Murphy's Law

When is a monster not a monster?

Even though he only intended to stay in Alderrath for a few days, Frederick made sure he had some time on his hands to visit the art galleries he owned. But it had been a whole ordeal all day. Ever since that nightmare of a night, when that horrible creature attacked him, it has been a struggle to get near any animal. He hated it. Being unable to ride a horse and forced to travel through the city by carriage. Horrible. Even the horses drawing the carriages he used were on edge in his presence. Snorting and shaking as they had to carry him around town, jumpy as they were. It almost caused several accidents. And again, the new baron sat in a carriage that didn't feel entirely safe. He could hear the animal neighing from outside the vehicle, its hooves clathering nervously through the street. The driver had a hard time calming the animal and leading it through the busy traffic of the middle ring.

When they finally arrived at his destination, Frederick stepped out with difficulty. His leg had been bothering him too all day, of course. But when the man tried to pay the driver, it all truly went to shit. The horse, who was already severely on edge, truly panicked now that Frederick came closer. The animal reared up, causing a lot of commotion amongst the citizens passing by. Several people yelled and screamed, pushing each other to get away from the now bucking horse. Frederick was pushed away, slipping on his side as he screamed in pain, grabbing at his still healing leg. As he fell, he dropped several gold coins on the floor. But he didn't care anymore. He was able to get up and hobbled into his art gallery. Hopefully, that would calm the whole situation down.

The space was being used by some artists, and there were several art pieces on display. No visitors, however, as Frederick stood alone in the small hall, thrembling. He felt he had reached his limit. He wasn't able to hold his temper anymore and boiled over. With a frustrated scream, he grabbed the nearest thing he could find and smashed it into tiny pieces on the ground. The vulgar cursewords he hollered still echoed through the hall when he realised what he had done, looking down at the smashed artwork of another man. Behind him, the sound of the squicking front door, opening. ”Who's there?!” he yelled with a thremble and cracked voice.

(C) Ross

Hazel knew that it wasn’t very smart to be here again in the Middle Ring. But the events in the Lower Ring had scared her so much that she wanted to be graced with the presence of people who weren’t after her money or… after other things. She knew that there still could be some scumbags in the Middle Ring as well, but the chances of that were lower than if she would go to the Lower Ring. And it was far safer for her to travel to the Middle Ring than it would be if she would go to the Upper Ring. While she had taken on a different name, died her hair and wore other clothes (basically she had taken on a whole new identity), she was fairly certain that her parents, her parents in-law and her ex-fiancé would still be able to recognize her if she were to wander around the Upper Ring. And her ex-fiancé knew about her secret, so if he would start yelling about it again, she would surely attract some unwanted attention. She had evaded most of the questions of the Church, but barely.

There was something about the art gallery that attracted her attention. Hazel had spent most of her time on the other side of the Middle Ring when she traveled here, so she hadn’t seen the art gallery before. It seemed like she could enter without having to pay a fee, so that was what she did. She entered the building, her troubles forgotten when she looked at the beautiful art pieces that were on display. Her heart started to pump wildly and adrenaline coursed through her veins when she heard some sound further ahead. She approached carefully, seeing how a man shattered one of the many art pieces on the ground. Hazel stumbled back, which apparently attracted the attention of the man; he yelled with a trembling voice to her and Hazel contemplated if she should turn around and leave.

But it was too late. The man had already seen her and she didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention by running away. ”I-I’m sorry,” she stammered as she made her presence known by approaching him closer. ”I was just in the area. I don’t mean to intrude on anything.” Her heart was still thumping wildly and Hazel was resting her hand on her heart to assure herself that it wouldn’t burst out of her rib case. ”I-I was just observing the beautiful art pieces around here. I swear I won’t tell anybody what happened.” She was fairly sure that she recognized him, but she didn’t know from where. All she knew was that it wasn’t safe around here for her to stay and that it was a stupid idea of hers to venture in the Middle Ring at all. She had wanted to get out of the Lower Ring so badly, but now that she was face to face with this outraged man, she wanted nothing more than to return to the Lower Ring and hide in her house.

When is a monster not a monster?

It had been months ago that Frederick had lost his cool like that. Over the years, he gained somewhat of a reputation as a hothead, especially in his early 20s. He'd worked hard over the last few years to shed that reputation, so this moment felt downright humiliating. And now he's gone so far as to destroy another artist's work. As an artist himself, he knew how much work went into it. So when he heard the person shuffling around behind him, he feared it was the artist in question. But to his relief, the person stepping into the light was a young woman. A very alarmed and upset woman nonetheless.

Seeing her so upset as she stammered apologies and tried to reassure him—a complete stranger with anger issues—made his mood die down immediately. Shit... "It's fine, really. You didn't do anything wrong. " He hopped a bit closer, grimacing slightly due to his painful leg, realizing he had left his cane on the street moments ago. He held up his hands in a gesture of peace to reassure her that he meant well. "I apologize for yelling at you, ma'am. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't scare you?" For a moment, he looked back at the smashed art and felt the rush of embarrassment again. "You don't happen to be the artist that is renting my gallery today, are you?" Frederick asked with an expression of shame on his face. He wasn't used to strangers witnessing his more vulnerable moments, and it was showing.

(C) Ross