Van

  The man named Van was a fool.

  A frivolous man. A mischievous man. A man who likened himself to a clown at a circus, behaving like an indulgent and flippant person who appeared to be carried by his eccentric whims. It was easier to live this way, he found. No one took a fool seriously. Few could remain wary in front of a person who was not afraid to demean themselves for a laugh. People’s tongues got looser. Their guards dropped. Secrets and vulnerabilities spewed out endlessly. Even the most disciplined of men had something to vent after a couple of drinks. After all, he was just a fool. He was probably too simple and stupid to understand anyways, so why did it matter if they used him as an outlet for their lamentations?

  The mask of a fool was convenient in many ways. Van wielded as an asset in his Steiger work, but the fa?ade also served as a shield to protect himself. It was easier to detach himself emotionally if he played the part of a fool. If he never took anything seriously, then there was nothing for him to get worked up about.

  Nothing to grieve. Nothing to get angry for. Nothing to feel.

  This nihilistic outlook was the only tool that kept him sane over the years as Steiger dragged him through the dark underbelly of Ardair’s affairs. Of course, his mask would slip occasionally, such as when he begged Hortensia to save Emil’s life. Or when the guilt in his chest became too painful to suppress beneath a cheery fa?ade. He wasn’t perfect after all. If he was, he’d never have degraded himself to becoming a dog of Steiger.

  “All those who become Cleaners have a desire beyond themselves. It is a shackle that binds them. A shackle that Steiger wields expertly to make them do their bidding.”

  Van wasn’t born Van. The name that he now goes by was a name that he chose for himself after discarding his previous identity. He grew up to a poor young couple in the slums. It was him, his parents, and his little sister in a dilapidated abode. Life was simple. Van was not ignorant of their impoverished status, but he never lamented. He never needed to. His little sister, Ruby, aptly named for her scarlet eyes, was the light of his life. Ruby was a bundle of joy. She was smart, witty, and possessed an adventurous curiosity that made every single day fun and exciting.

  His parents must have loved her too since they spent everything on her with their meagre earnings. Money was tight, but Ruby never went to sleep hungry. She had colorful clothes that made her light up amongst the dreary monotony of the slums. Van sometimes suffered due to his parent’s blatant favoritism, but he didn’t mind. Seeing his sister smile was enough for him to be content.

  Joyous times were always fleeting, however.

  He arrived home on a rainy day, soaked to the bone after spending hours scavenging the slums for discarded items. When he entered his family’s tiny abode, he immediately dropped everything in his hands.

  Ruby was missing.

  Her section of the abode that had been neatly carved out for her to be comfortable was instead occupied by a sack of coins. His parents were sitting sprawled out in the center of the room, crying and giggling, seemingly intoxicated. It was only then that he noticed the smoky fragrance permeating their home.

  He recognized the distinct cloying smell. He caught whiffs of it often during his scavenge runs where he would pass by the pleasure district just bordering the slums. Drugs, used by men and women alike to escape this dreary world for a dose of color and euphoria. His parents were high off their minds.

  Interrogating them for Ruby’s whereabouts was impossible in this state. Desperate, he rushed back out into the rain, pleading to their neighbors if they had seen where Ruby had gone. The stormy weather had kept most people indoors, however, and very few could offer him what he needed. After an hour of running around, he finally found someone who could help.

  “Ah, maybe you weren’t aware, but a rich-looking man has been visiting her the past few days at noon. He might be a noble. Anyways, there was a carriage that passed by just a few hours ago. I think that Ruby went with him.”

  Van blinked, failing to understand what he was being told. A nobleman? Visiting Ruby at their rundown abode? Why? And why wasn’t he told? He had been busy the past few day scavenging, spending more time than usual due to his parent’s apparent illness. Had that planned to keep him away from home?

  He sifted through his memories. Ruby had seemed more downtrodden than usual lately. Her smile appeared more forced and forlorn. He hadn’t questioned it—he was too tired after a long day of scavenging, but even then, people couldn’t always be happy and energetic. It was normal to feel down sometimes.

  But Ruby had left.

  Was she unhappy at home? Did she grow tired of their poor lifestyle? Did Van simply misunderstand her sister this entire time?

  When he got home, his parents were slightly less inebriated.

  “A nobleman took fancy to her. Offered to pay a hefty amount. Enough to take us out of this piece of shit place. Ruby didn’t oppose.”

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  Ruby didn’t oppose. As if that somehow explained everything. As if that justified what his parents had just done. As if the sack of coins lying where her sister used to rest could replace her bright presence.

  “You sold her off?!”

  Suddenly, everything made sense. Their favoritism. Their insistence on buying her colorful clothes that the family couldn’t afford. Sacrificing their own meals just so that she would grow up healthy. He thought his parents simply dotted on her. But what if everything that they’ve done was part of a carefully curated plan? A scheme to make sure that his little sister would attract the attention of a rich, perverted nobleman.

  Van was sick.

  Everything came crumbling down like fractured glass. He was betrayed by the two people that he thought loved them unconditionally. But they sold off Ruby without hesitation. In fact, it had planned for a long time. It was always their intention to give up their beloved daughter. She was unwanted. They were unwanted.

  He ran away from home that night and never looked back. There was nothing left for him in that abode. He wanted nothing to do with his family. He discarded his name and his connection to his parents.

  And he made a vow to search for the whereabouts of his dear sister.

  ***

  “I want to see the young servant who goes by the name, Ruby.”

  He hated the way that the words escaped of his mouth. He was embarrassed at how juvenile and personal his request was in comparison to Troya’s proclamation. He detested the vulnerability in his voice. The edges of his lips quivered. Fragile. He was supposed to be Van, a frivolous man who never took anything seriously. Indulgent. Flippant. Never wavered. Never perturbed. Always in control. His heart thundered as his fa?ade nearly slipped. He only managed to hang onto his composure because of the alarmed stares from his junior. Emil looked like he had seen a ghost.

  “An intriguing request,” Troya said with a raised eye, “I do recall having a servant with that name within my estate. But why?”

  “If you’re truly curious, then we can discuss the reasons afterwards, Lady Troya. Can you fulfill my request or not?”

  He tried to sound firm and resolute, but he was afraid that the cracks in his fa?ade had already been read. Troya wasn’t just a warrior—she also had an astute instinct. It was the only reason why she had been one of the few Exalted from the Gharia annexation wars to have come out ahead. Myriad other Exalted who made their names during the conquest were silently disposed of or locked within Thanatos. The royal family had every right to be paranoid after seeing just how effective they were on the battlefield when left to run amok without restraint.

  “Hmph, very well then.”

  Troya called in her butler and delivered his request. For a while, the three of them stood in silence within the meeting room. Van didn’t dare meet Emil’s or Troya’s eyes. The latter because he feared that he would give away too much of the inner turmoil brewing in his mind. The former because he was scared of what face Emil was making. This was an egregious overstep of their trust. They were here on a mission from Steiger to enact the Crown Prince’s royal decree. And yet, here he was, making a secret deal behind everyone’s backs for his personal affairs. It was selfish. It was despicable. He’d be the first one to admit that he was in the wrong.

  But he regretted nothing.

  Everything that he had done since the day he ran away from home was meant for this moment. He joined Steiger on the promise that Hortensia would assist him in finding his sister. He took on missions that specifically put him in contact with the nobility so he could search for her traces. Over the years, the witch would occasionally dangle him with leads, but most of them led to dead ends. Frustrated, he began to take more and more independent action outside of his purview. Hortensia was either aware of his negligence and didn’t care, or she was too preoccupied trying to wrap his overly-competent junior around her fingers.

  Through his own investigations, he finally tracked down a potential lead in House Ulster.

  “Madame, Ruby’s here.”

  Van couldn’t help himself. He spun around faster than he intended—a reaction that betrayed just how much this meeting meant to him.

  A young lady in maid attire stood at the door beside the butler. She had a sheepish, confounded expression on her face as though she had no idea why she had been summoned before the head of the house. She had scarlet eyes, red as her name. Her skin was pale and unblemished. Her hair had been trimmed neatly to her shoulders. Van caught himself tearing up. It had been nearly ten years since he last saw her. But she looked just as he remembered. Her features were definitely older and matured, but the characteristics that made her his sister remained unmistakable.

  He took a step towards her, fighting off the urge to pull her into a warm embrace. But Ruby simply stared at him with a guarded gaze. Her eyes lacked familiarity. Recognition. Affection. As though she was looking at a stranger.

  “…Ruby, do you recognize me?” he asked, nearly pleading.

  His sister shook her head. Her eyes shuffled between the butler and Troya as if to ask for an explanation.

  “I suppose I should mention that Ruby has retrograde amnesia,” Troya suddenly said, “I picked her up from the ruins of a disgraced noble house nearly a decade ago. And well, judging by her condition at the time, I think she’s better off not having those memories.”

  Van felt like his heart had been ripped apart. The pain of being forgotten was quickly consumed by rage. Troya didn’t outright state it, but he could read between the lines. His little sister had suffered immensely after being sold off to that wretched nobleman.

  Mother, Father, I sincerely hope the two of you burn in hell.

  He took a deep breath. He was furious, but he no longer felt like a mess. He could work with this. Anger was familiar. He knew how to dampen the emotion and hide it behind an empty smile. He was much more in control than whatever wretched feelings had overwhelmed him just a moment earlier.

  “Hi Ruby, my name is Van,” he said behind a mask of composure, “You might not remember me, but I was once someone very important to you. I’ve looking for you for a long time. Our relationship might not be the same as before, but well, if you’re ever curious about your forgotten past, then I can help you fill in some of those gaps.”

  Ruby nodded uneasily, seemingly not quite sure how to deal with a stranger who had professed such intimate words to her. Van gestured towards Troya that he was satisfied, and the head of House Ulster allowed Ruby and the butler to get back to their stations.

  This’ll do for now.

  It was not the reunion he had hoped for, but seeing his sister alive and well was a blessing in itself.

  “Thank you, Lady Troya,” he said, once again in the fa?ade of a flippant man, “Now, shall we resume our discussions?”