Colours of Kronistadt
A chapter where Louis d'Avranches enjoys a cup of corporate issued tea
1132 VTE, April 22nd, Special Economic Zone of Kronistadt, Infinitum.
Outside Warden Street 17, District 4
The crisp April morning air stung his face as he walked out onto the grey streets of Kronistadt. Even though it was still early, the sun had already started rising above the eastern horizon, yet her warm rays had not yet dispelled the chill of the night. His breath condensed into white mist that melted together with the early morning fog that hung above the cobblestone streets.
The man standing outside the all too pragmatically designed house was the epitome of class and proper attire, if not for the faint red marks Lapin had left on his neck last night. He had woken up earlier than usual to make sure he had time to groom himself into proper shape for an officer of the Imperial Navy. He had left Lapin to sleep, she needed some rest.
The street was quickly filling with life as the locals and visiting foreigners alike left their homes for work or leisure. The Kronies were the most populous group among the citizens, walking about in their drab coats without making too much of a noise, nor taking too much space, their spirits grey and lifeless like that of their city. If he had not known better, Louis would have thought they were all on their way to the funeral of some important person, so depressed they all looked to him. Here and there in their midst Louis saw small sparks of colour in the form of Matiyotl, Hoomen, Risuners, and Deadbeats.
Louis lit one of his cigars. The sweet herbal scent of the tobacco supplanted the bitter stench of coal smoke that choked the city. Louis welcomed this change, over the past few days at Kronistadt he had learned to hate the smell of coal. It felt as if the smoke coated his lungs with soot. It was toxic to him. He took another deep drag from his cigar. He yearned to get back to the seas, to experience the fresh ocean breeze again.
The clock tower hit six o'clock, and immediately church bells all across the city begun to summon the locals to join in prayer to the Clockwork goddess. Louis sighed, cut off the lit end of his cigar, and stored the rest inside a small oaken cigar box. He would finish the cigar later. He corrected the position of his hat, and begun walking towards the central district, as he had been instructed.
At gardens, Chrono Plaza, District 1
His journey took him through the gardens that decorated the plaza in front of the company headquarters. Louis was shocked to see so many beautiful flowers and blossoming trees tenaciously growing out of the tortured earth, as in defiance of the greyness that surrounded them. The cherry trees that blossomed around a large bronze statue dedicated to the Clockwork goddess reminded him of his home. The juxtaposition of something so beautiful surviving inside a city like Kronistadt was inspiring to him. It was sad yet beautiful, like a diamond in the dirty, rough hands of a hard working miner, or a golden band in the ring-finger of a knight who fell defending his home.
He pondered on the trees, how they struggled so far from home, how alone they were, disconnected from the rest of living nature by a wasteland of brick and iron. He wondered what the trees had seen during their decades in the city. All the loves that were formed under their branches, all the poets that had sat under them writing their masterpieces, and all the coffins of lost loved ones and dead poets that passed by their bare forms in the winter.
He wondered whether they felt him, whether the trees would remember his passing by them too. He stopped to briefly touch one of the trees. Its surface was hard and rough, and cool to his touch, yet it felt clearly alive. The tree was warm with some energy or spirit that resided within it. The energy or life, glowing brightly against the grey death of this city. If he had time, he would have stopped to write a line or two into his diary. But no, he had been invited to meet the District Manager at the headquarters at seven o'clock. He had little time to spare if he wanted to be on time, and Louis preferred to be a little early.
He left the lonely trees and the bronze statue behind, and continued walking toward the large cathedral-like building. The architecture of the building was in stark contrast the the rest of the city. Where most of Kronistadt had been built in what Louis supposed was pragmatic, the company headquarters had been built in a distinctly nasfaqgian way, with fine ornaments and decorations covering the complete parts of the building. Even in its incomplete state it was one of the largest buildings Louis had ever seen, and he couldn't help but feel impressed by it. He recalled what Lapin had told him about the building: It was meant to triple as the home of her House, a cathedral for the Clockwork goddess, and the future headquarters of the entire company. Unfathomable riches had been poured into the construction of this building, and it did show. A bit of extravagance was a welcome break in the otherwise so dull Kronistadt, but to Louis the beauty of the building paled in comparison to the humble garden in front of it.
Somewhere deep within that palace sat the CEO, or "that old Crone" as Lapin so endearingly called her, on the chair that Lapin so deeply coveted. In all honesty it was difficult for him to imagine Lapin ruling an empire of merchants from within that grand building. Louis suspected that she was much happier commanding ships than she would be commanding numbers, even though she did not realize this herself.
He walked up the stairs that led to the entrance to the palace. On both sides he was flanked by tall guards dressed in dark blue uniforms, and carrying short rifles of a model he could not recognize. The breech of each rifle glowed with a pale blue light. Each of the guards also carried sabers as fine as his own, although far less decorated. Eight of these guards awaited him at the top of the stairs where they guarded the wooden doors decorated with carvings and reliefs of serpents and heavenly figures. He had arrived, approximately ten minutes early.
Louis told the guards who he was, and stated his business. Without a word the guards stepped aside and the doors began to open. Louis straightened the position of his hat, and vainly brushed off non-existent dust off of his suit. He then stood straight, in a show of good posture fitting for an officer like him.
Inside Apeiron Palace, Chrono Plaza, District 1
Behind the doors was a grand entrance hall of marble and granite, decorated by tapestries, statues, and paintings alike. Sticks of incense, burning over decorated plates were positioned on both sides of the entrance, the floral scent emanating from them spread toward him and overpowered the smell of smoke. Between the plates, right in front of Louis stood a woman of delicate build whose ethnicity Louis could not discern at a first glance. The woman was wearing a dark blue uniform and a dress of similar colour. On the left side of the row of brass buttons on the front of her uniform, over her left chest was pinned a badge, and on that badge was the silver insignia of Lapin's house. Two white serpents that formed the symbols 8 and ∞ over each other, forming a cross, while a third one enclosed them within a circle, all three consuming their own tails. Inside the loops formed by the serpents were set small white diamonds. The woman had two diamonds, both set inside the lower loop. Lapin's badge had five, two in the lower loop, and one in each of the other loops. The woman in front of Louis was her junior, and like Lapin, a member of the house. The woman gave Louis a graceful bow, and then spoke in a clear and potent voice.
"Commodore d'Avranches, on behalf of the Chronobanks Company, I welcome you to Apeiron Palace. I am Alla, and I have been tasked with escorting you to Sen Francis," the woman greeted him in accented Anykarian, which surprised Louis, but he outwardly he did not show any of that surprise. Louis reciprocated her greetings, and introduced himself. This was for reasons of etiquette. The two exchanged a few words as demanded by etiquette, one of Louis' remarks even eliciting a short but graceful giggle from the dark haired woman. After a bit of chat Alla begun to lead Louis toward the District Manager's office.
At the back of the entrance hall were doors, also guarded by the blue uniformed Kronies, that led to another large room with a staircase, and within that room was the apparatus. It looked like a large cage, large enough to fit a few people or one person with some carriage, and was hoisted by a series of strong ropes. Outside the apparatus stood a man wearing a uniform different from those of the guards, and who carried no weapons. Alla told Louis to enter the cage, and after a few seconds of hesitation he did. Out of habit he removed his hat as he entered the small compartment. Alla said something to the uniformed man in a language Louis could not understand, and entered the cage with him, closing the door behind her.
Alla stood closer to Louis than would have been socially preferable, close enough for Louis to detect the faint, sweet floral scent that followed Alla. There was not much room to maneuver inside the cage so Louis could not blame her. Louis also did not mind pretty women being close to him, and whatever perfume she wore was a pleasant one. There was no reason to complain.
A few moments passed, and then with a sudden jerk that made Louis lose balance for a split second, the cage begun to move upward. He stumbled for a moment as the muscle memory of the experienced sailor sprung to action to find balance on an uneven footing. In the chaos of the moment he felt his shoulder impact on Alla, shoving the woman against the caged door of the apparatus. Immediately as Louis realized what had happened he turned to Alla to apologize. Alla brushed it off with a short laugh, and told Louis it was all fine. Louis perceived a hint of annoyance in the woman's voice, but he was not sure whether he just imagined it. As the two continued to talk, Louis could no longer perceive any negative emotion in Alla's voice.
The cage was cast in shadows as it rose beyond the reach of the staircase hall's lamps. The faint floral scent conflicted the clanking of the barely lit metal cage as it rose upward. In the darkness Louis could see Alla's exposed skin glinting under the shifting lights of the cage. For a moment she looked as if her skin was composed of not flesh nor metal, but of something in between. It was as if just below the surface of her skin was a layer woven of impossibly thin golden threads. As his eyes met Alla's, Louis could see a thin thread, glowing with barely visible golden light, surrounding the amber iris of her left eye. Something in the woman made Louis feel like she did not belong to this world, or this scene with him inside this claustrophobic apparatus. She felt foreign, not in the same way a person from another culture felt foreign, but in the way a deep sea creature felt foreign. Then the cage returned to light, and the illusion was gone, only the thin golden thread around her iris lingered for a few seconds, before it too disappeared.
As abruptly as it had begun moving, the cage stopped, and Alla opened the loud metallic doors and stepped outside. The jarring normalcy of the moment pierced through the veil of enigma, and as Louis stepped outside the cage, he felt as if he was leaving a dream and returning to concrete reality. They entered a long hallway lined with doors. Every now and then, a Kronie or a Hooman or some other native of Ailivia stepped outside one of the doors, carrying stacks of paper or machines of various levels of arcane, before entering another door or walking past Louis and Alla to the apparatus and the staircase behind them. Soon they had arrived to the door that led to the office of the District Manager, Francis Gearson.
Inside Gearson's Office, 3rd floor of the western wing, Apeiron Palace
Knock
Knock
Knock
Francis was startled awake from his daydreams. He scrambled to collect his scattered thoughts and adjusted his glasses. Was it already time for his meeting with Sen d'Avranches? He had asked him to arrive at seven, had the man arrived early? Francis scratched his grey hair and searched for his pocket-watch. Two minutes past seven o'clock.
"Oh boros," Francis mumbled to himself. He had once again lost track of time daydreaming. Knowing he had only few seconds to prepare, Francis hurriedly organized his desk, shoving confidential and personal papers haphazardly inside the drawers of his desk, and making sure the remaining items were in their correct places. He then stood up and stepped behind his chair, careful not to accidentally knock over or hit anything. He turned to face the window behind his desk, and adopted a posture that would fit a deep thinker. This is the practiced image he wanted to give Sen d'Avranches, an elegant man in the autumn of his life, who spends his days working and thinking about the deep meanings of life. The image was not far from the truth, but Francis liked to exaggerate it.
The view outside his window was the usual one. Districts 7, 8, and 9 spread in front of him, reaching toward the horizon, and beyond them he could see a bit of the forests and hilly fields that surrounded Kronistadt. All across the city smoke rose from the hundreds of smokestacks, each proving the existence a warm stove of a family home or a storyhouse, or a blazing furnace of a foundry or a factory. In midst the rows of buildings the streets of Kronistadt were quickly filling up with the diligent citizenry on their way to work or leisure. Seeing the smoke and the people gave Francis a warm feeling. It was a concrete proof of the city being alive, expanding, and thriving. District 7 particularly, as that was the one he was in charge of, and he felt a certain sense of pride watching over it, both now in a literal sense, and as part of his job.
The door behind him opened, and Francis heard the footsteps of the man he assumed to be Sen d'Avranches enter his office. In a practiced move he turned around, and addressed the man in a cheerful and welcoming tone, as if he was seeing an old friend he had not expected to meet.
"Ah, Commodore d'Avranches! I've been looking forward to seeing you!"
Francis' eyes immediately scanned over the man. His uniform was in impeccable shape, and carried the insignia of a Commodore of the Tsukinode Imperial Navy. The man was about as tall as Francis, if not a few centimeters taller. His shoulder length strawberry blonde hair was groomed well, but Francis did suspect the man could do better if he really had the time. The man's eyes were a piercing grey-blue. On his neck Francis spotted the telltale red marks of a night spent with a passionate woman, whom Francis knew to be Sen Elizabeth. For the man to have taken a liking to that serpent of a woman, and for him to have earned her affection, told Francis that he was an exceptional man and a horndog. Francis wondered whether it was the man's head or his loins that were exceptional, or which part Sen Elizabeth liked more. Francis took notice of the beautiful saber that the man carried on on his right hip.
Holding his hat in his left hand, the man gave Francis a short bow, before returning to his normal posture and inserting his right hand inside his waistcoat. Then he spoke in a deep and potent voice, speaking accented Holodhennet.
"You must be Sen Gearson then. Thank you for the invitation."
Francis was pleasantly surprised to hear Sen d'Avranches use a Kat Nol title for him. His pronunciation too was almost on point. Perhaps he was interested in languages, or was otherwise attentive? Good qualities in a sailor, Francis thought.
"Please, Commodore, take a seat," Francis gestured toward the oaken chair in front of his desk. Sen d'Avranches gave him a nod of acknowledgement before pulling the chair back, and sitting down on it, with his hat on his lap. All of his movements were deliberate, and felt purposeful. Soldiers, especially commanders, often expressed those qualities in their movements.
"Please, just use d'Avranches, Sen Gearson."
"Ah, of course, Sen d'Avranches." Francis had to add the title. It felt improper to not use it whilst speaking to an important man in a work setting. "Please, just 'Francis' is enough."
"Thank you, Sen Francis."
Francis wanted to acknowledge Sen d'Avranches' jab with a chuckle but he suppressed his reaction. Francis waited for Sen d'Avranches to get properly seated before sitting down himself. As they were of similar heights, the two sat at eye level to each other. For a few moments that felt much longer than they were, Francis and Sen d'Avranches stared at each other in silence. Francis felt the grey-blue eyes bore into him as Sen d'Avranches read his expressions and mannerism. He felt as if the man was expecting him to make the first move, and so Francis relented. It would be uncouth of him to challenge Sen d'Avranches to staring contests as they had just met. Francis wanted the man to feel comfortable, he was there to be thanked and rewarded by Francis, not challenged by him.
Francis leaned back in his chair slightly, and softened his expression. He broke eye contact on the excuse of adjusting his glasses. He decided to start with the usual pleasantries, reserved for first meeting foreign visitors.
"Not including your recent encounter with one of the gangs, how has your stay at the city been?", Francis decided to give Sen d'Avranches a little probing jab, and made his glance at the red marks on the man's neck particularly obvious. "I hope Kronistadt and her people have been pleasant to you, Sen d'Avranches."
"I'll be honest, Sen Francis, I do not like these large cities so devoid of nature and beauty. The atmosphere, it is depressing, it kills my soul.", Sen d'Avranches answered honestly. The piercing quality of his grey-blue eyes melted into warmth as he gave Francis a knowing and friendly smile. "However, I have found her people to be quite pleasant. One of them especially so."
This time Francis allowed his reaction to come through, as he acknowledged Sen d'Avranches' words with an amused chuckle.
"Ah yes, its the architecture isn't it? Utilitarian to a fault, the mainlanders. 'As long as it works, it doesn't have to look pretty', as they say." Francis acknowledged the issue. He personally did not care that much for the beautification of the city, but he did want to find some common ground with Sen d'Avranches. That is also why he made sure to hint at the distinction between mainlander Kronies and those that hail from the Serene Republic. In some sense, he along with the company were visitors to Kronistadt just as well as Sen d'Avranches was. The difference being that Francis and the company would be here to stay, unlike Sen d'Avranches.
"The Valt is working on fixing this issue. In a few years Kronistadt will be the most beautiful city of Infinitum, I'm sure of it."
"Mhm. The palace is certainly a step in the right direction."
"The gardens too, those were all her work! Oh, Sen, d'Avranches, you would have been horrified by state they were in back in 1110s!"
Sen d'Avranches' attention seemed to perk up at the mention of the gardens. Francis guessed that he had found an interest of the man. Gardening? Botany? Perhaps it was the cherry trees, Francis thought. They are a seen as universally beautiful after all, and if Francis recalled correctly, were native to Sen d'Avranches' homeland.
"I passed the gardens on my way here just this morning. They were a welcome respite from all that smoke and brick, but I do wish the city had more greenery. Any good city needs greenery, where else are you supposed to relax and think in peace?", Sen d'Avranches rambled for a bit. Francis nodded along with him, giving Sen d'Avranches confirmation of him listening and on some level agreeing with his words. He had a feeling he'd get along with Sen d'Avranches just fine.
Inside Gearson's Office, 3rd floor of the western wing, Apeiron Palace
An hour later
Louis had been conversing with Francis for a while now. They had begun by discussing the intricacies of gardening and city planning, the former of which the grey haired Kronie sitting behind the desk knew little of, to Louis' dismay, although Francis did express interest in the topic. Louis did suspect that a major part of that expressed interest was done deliberately in an attempt to sway him to like the District Manager more. On the topic of city planning Francis was far more knowledgeable than Louis was, which did not come as a surprise to him, knowing Francis' occupation. Francis was frustratingly stubborn in defending the utilitarian nightmare that was Kronidstadt, coming up with constant excuses as to why the rebuilding of the city to be more pleasing to the senses was a low priority. Louis and Francis had found a fundamental disagreement in their way of seeing cities; Louis valued cities primarily as living spaces, Francis valued them primarily as hubs of production, and nexuses through which resources and people flowed. Then the conversation shifted to the matters of trade and seafaring, before seamlessly transitioning to discussing the Mission.
Francis was curious about the nature of the mission, and Louis did see it fit to give him some snippets of information, but none that could hint toward the existence of Sherah. To Louis' relief, Francis was happy with the little snippets. The conversation moved on, and the talked about Louis' stay in Kronistadt in deeper detail. Out of respect for Lapin, Louis omitted a lot of the details, but judging from Francis' reactions, he was already well aware of the nature of his relationship with her. How, Louis did not know, but he suspected their night at the storyhouse was the root of the rumors. Apparently he had gained quite the reputation among the lower middle rank of the company already, as the man who tamed the Clipper-Bitch as some of them insultingly called her. Francis was not one of those, to Louis' relief. He too expressed his distaste for how disrespectful some of the lower ranked members of the House were toward her. Louis had seen the behavior before, unambitious or untalented people becoming bitter toward those who rose above them through skill or hard work. He could also see how Lapin's certain behaviors would turn someone against her. She was not the most agreeable person, to others than Louis anyways. He was a special case for her, and this too had become apparent to many.
Then Francis had called in one of his servants, a young male deadbeat, and ordered him to get Louis tea and something to eat as they moved on with their topics. The servant returned a few minutes later carrying a collection of various pastries and confections on a tray, which he placed on Francis' desk between the two men, before serving them both some tea.
Louis and Francis chatted for a bit more before Francis finally brought up Louis getting rid of the Clockside gang. The District manager thanked him for his work, and offered him various material rewards, which all Louis refused. Eventually Francis managed to talk Louis into accepting a meaningless honorary title, "Warden of the City", which Francis assured would give Louis a degree of respect from the citizenry, and perhaps give him a bit of leeway if he ever needed to negotiate with the city officials. Soon after the two bid farewell and Louis left the building.