Prologue

Patient #005

Nuvio, James F.

Admitted August 18th, 08:30 hours.

Admitted by Miss. S Julian.

Physician- Dr. Pettihue

Doctor's Notes-

"Diagnosis delusional psychosis, schizophrenia, and mantic depressive. Suggests shock therapy daily, may be increased depending on progress.

Personal Description-

James Fredrick Nuvio. Ex- professional artist, and engaged to marry Lady Silvia Julian.

Before admittance, painted portraits for the nobles of Auldale. Admitted to facility after a woman was attacked during a portrait sitting. Patient carries a telescope, possibly for voyeuristic behavior. May be allowed supervised visits to the Observatory- for now. Indulging these whims may not prove therapeutic.

Dr. Pettihue

Chapter One

A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned against the cold stone walls of the Cradle. The gruel playing mad games with his stomach, as he turned a pale shade of white that made the room spin in his eyes. It had been so long since they let him out into the yard. He missed the bright rays that crept into his studio, when the orange and red streaks upon the floor lit up the room at sunset. He hobbled onto his bed, the noisy rusted bed frame almost collapsing beneath his weight. He covered his eyes with his arm, trying to forget the hard painful meal in his dissatisfied stomach. His fingers rang along the rusted gold frame and cracked lens of his small telescope as he fell into a dreamless haze.

"James! Miss. Julian is here for her portrait sitting!"

My name is James Nuvio. I am a professional painter for the rich and noble. Or so they think they are. As long as they pay with the gold they think gives them power, then I am indifferent to indulge their petty whims.

"DRAT AND DAMNATION! RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF MY WORK!"

He threw his brush upon the floor, royal blue spots fell on the hardwood floor. He opened the door harshly and yelled over the heavily decorated banister

"Send her up!"

And marched back into the room, mumbling about being interrupted. As paint brushes flew into cups and paint was wiped from the floor, the door opened slowly and a young girl of about two and twenty entered.

"James, this is Miss. Silvia Julian." He dropped the large cup of red paint of the floor, splattering his shirt, the floor, and the painting. The young lady smiled to herself, and approached him.

"Thank you Mr. Nuvio, for agreeing to paint my portrait, my parents will be most pleased with your work, I'm sure."

Guards yelled and footsteps were heard outside his door. He chuckled, not bothering to uncover his eyes.

"Frieda has escaped again…They don't make it very hard…"

He stood up slowly and touched the back wall of his small room

"This should be graced with a portrait. I must find a subject and a room to work in."

He walked over to his cracked wooden table and reached under it, only to pull his hand back as a guard's keys jingled outside and opened the door. Dr. Hanscomb entered and sat down in the chair.

"Sit down James. I have a few things to ask you."

He reluctantly sat down on the crushed mattress and clutched his telescope with one hand.

"Why did you attack her James? You had everything that any man in The City could ever want. A rich lifestyle, a steady job, a wife and heh... pretty subjects"

His head snapped up "Don't soil Silvia with your degenerate talk."

Dr. Hanscomb smiled

"I've found a soft spot..." He mumbled to himself

"Alright James. Let's not talk about Silvia, let's talk about Miss. Newton."

James turned away "It wasn't my fault."

"Oh James, I'm sure it wasn't, but what happened?"

"You must hold still Miss. Julian. I cannot paint if you fidget"

"But it's been so long."

"We're almost done, child. Be patient."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle, her smile was brighter then the fleeting sunlight peaking through the thin window. He could not concentrate on painting

I cannot do her justice. Her features are too impressive to capture-

"Mr. Nuvio?" His mind snapped back into the room

"Yes, Miss. Julian?"

"Your candle is almost out" The sun had set and the candle had almost burned out while he had been thinking.

"Yes. Your right. You best hurry home. Your parents will worry." She stood up and shook his hand

"When shall we reconvene?" He thought for a moment

"On Thursday week." She nodded and descended gracefully down the stairs. He stood above, dumbfounded. He stared at the painting. Almost no resemblance to the enchanting creature that had just left. He could not stand his own work. He touched the cheek of the girl in the picture, leaving a thin red streak along her jaw line. His hand was still wet with the spilled paint. Anger mixed with failed frustration he slapped the painting, leaving a smeared hand print, and ruining the picture. Realizing what he had done, he cautiously picked up the painting and sighed in self-disappointment.

"James? I cannot help you if you fight me-"

"Your not here to help me…" Dr. Hanscomb exhaled and stood up at attendance

"Ah. Dr. Pettihue, We shall increase the shock therapy on Mr. Nuvio. He is not showing any progress to the current dosage. "Dr. Pettihue took him aside and whispered "George, are you sure? This one is one of our worse-"

"Albert. Have your ever doubted my judgment?" He patted him on the shoulder and left without giving him time to answer. Pettihue stared at James, and left with a sigh.

"And what of the children, George? They are getting restless."

"Let them be restless. Until we have these ones under control, we can handle a few restless children." The heavy metal door closed with a resonating slam

"Children….There are children in a place like this? They are perfect subjects. But where are they kept? I will speak with the King. He has been here the longest and knows everything about everything…yes. I'll do that…"

He placed the ruined piece of work in the corner and covered it in a black drop cloth. He washed his hands and descended downstairs. He ran his hand through his hair as a voice drew his attention.

"James?" He looked up to see Mary. His loyal and loving wife of two years.

"Are you alright? You seem distracted." He chuckled to himself and continued down the stairs.

"Yes, I'm fine. I've been working all day, and very tired. Please don't worry" She knew he was lying to her. Everything seemed so obvious now. He walked into his study and began to pour himself a glass of wine, Mary followed him insisting

"James, are you sure-"

"Mary! I said I'm fine! Now leave me alone! I have work to finish!" He forced her out of his study and locked the door.

"I don't need anyone's help... I am just fine and can take care of myself."

He stood up and walked back to the table, reaching to the supporting boards underneath. He pulled out a small watch-like object, and held it with almost obsessive affection. It was a small portrait of Silvia. When she was young and fresh, her chestnut curls falling against a dress of dark purple velvet, her crystal blue eyes almost as bright as her smile. She sat in a beautiful garden, with the sun setting behind her. He sighed in painful remorse, touching the picture softly. A tear the shone like a diamond in the dark room, rolled off his cheek and fell upon the portrait. He wanted so much to have her back in his arms, to feel the warmth of her smile, the bell- like ring of her laughter, that amazing sparkle of life in her eyes when she was happy. Just to spend one day as things once were, just to be happy again, he would be happy forever. But he knew it would never be. She never forgave him for what he had done. He never thought his misdeeds would lead to such unbearable torture.

He drank another glass of wine, the intoxicating taste making his head spin with delight. A small notebook lay on the table, a candle flickering over its scrawled words. He sat down and picked up his quill, writing only two words before his door opened.

"James. I have something to tell you." He stood up and approached her.

"Mary, I am sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you that way, I am overworked and sleep deprived. You know I never mean what I say when I am upset." She took a step back.

"You mean it all too clearly. I'm leaving, James. I feel that you would be happier without my presence." She held her head high, although the tears in her eyes made it feel heavy. He inhaled slightly and sat back behind his desk.

"And pray, what has brought you to this conclusion?" She held her hands tightly against her waist.

"I…..I disapprove of your manner towards Miss. Julian." He could not help but laugh.

"My manner towards Miss. Julian? What manner?"

"The manner that shows unusual attraction. That is not normal, nor is it healthy, James!" He stopped smiling.

"You have brought up a subject with no logical explanation, or support." She turned towards the door.

"George doesn't seem to think so." He stood in shock mixed with anger.

"You've spoken to Dr. Hanscomb about this? Without my consent?"

"Not yet, but I have written to him, and he has agreed to see me."

"When?"

"He has not yet said. I await his reply." He turned away in frustration.

"Mary-"

"Do not, my dear James, think you can stop this forthcoming event. Dr. Hanscomb thinks you would benefit from a few months in Shalebridge."

"Shalebridge? Have you gone mad?" As she started to leave the room, he took hold of her elbow

"I won't allow this!"

"It's already been arranged." His eyes clouded by anger, he threw her against the desk.

"I said….My dear Mary. I won't let you..."

He replaced the picture under the table, and wiped his eyes with his wrist. She never forgave him for the way he hurt her. Hurt everyone around him. Everything was just right, and he ruined it all for the sake of his no longer precious work.

"But it wasn't my fault!" He slammed his fists against the back of his cell.

"….It wasn't my fault, Silvia….." He leaned against his arms and cried

"I'm so sorry….Silvia….I'm so sorry…" He sunk to the floor and hugged his legs. He slowly picked up his head and sighed against the sharp stone corner.

"I could never bring myself to ask you to forgive me…." He closed his eyes as more tears trickled down his cheek.

His hands clasped his face, what had he done? The shattered glass of wine lay across the room. The embellished letter opener, near the foot of the desk, a drop of blood fell from its tip. Mary…Beautiful, sweet, kind Mary lay just beside it. Her eyes frozen in immortal terror, her golden dress stained red. He rest in the corner, staring at the dancing flames that lie among the hearth. As his eyelids began to flutter, he came to a realization. He crouched next to Mary's body, and touched her cheek with affection, and yet with resentment, as he looked towards the stairs. He inhaled deeply. The play had begun.

The handle of the heavy metal door jiggled then opened as a guard cautiously stepped in.

"Time to eat, Nuvio." James glared at him and laid his head back in his lap.

"Comeon, Hanscomb is threatening to take you back into surgery and you know what that means." The only response James gave was a slight mumble. The guard leaned out the door. James looked up and charged towards him. He took hold of his head, beating it against the cold steel door. As the guard lay faceless in the hall, James closed the door, and returned to the corner.

"I said... I'm not hungry." The nasty realization finally set in

"Oh lord…Silvia! I promised her it wouldn't happen anymore…oh god…oh god let her find it in her heart to forgive me…" He knew she couldn't. He knew she wouldn't always be beside him, and he knew why.

He brushed his hand against the wall, the broad nails, barely holding up the only barrier between him and his horrible deed. Horses approaching. He ran to the window. Miss. Julian! He tidied himself as he flew down the stairs.

"Miss Julian. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? To my knowledge it is not yet Thursday."

"Yes, and for that I apologize, I'm sorry, I expected to be greeted by your wife-"

"She went out for the day."

"Ah, oh yes. My reason for coming. My father has decided to send me to St. Edgars for the day, as my brother is to join their order. I explained that I had a portrait sitting for that day, but he refused and told me reschedule."

"Ah. Well. If you have time today, we may have a session today." A smile grew on her face, as she stepped into the large hall.

"When may I expect the pleasure of your wife's company?" He closed the door slowly.

"I don't expect her back for some time. She has planned to visit her family in South Quarter, although I'm not quite sure when. Excuse me; may I get you a drink?"

"No thank you, I am here for my sitting, not to impose upon you."

"No trouble, my dear. I assure you." He smiled to himself.

"No trouble at all…"

Voices outside the door told him that the guard's body had been found. He chuckled through his tears.

"I've upstaged you again…"

The door did not open as he expected it to, but remained closed as the body was dealt with. He stayed in the corner, and would be alone if were not for his thoughts, as loud and clear as if someone was right next to him.

"It's entirely fault you know." Said one

"You know she was right" said another.

"You just had to go and –"The door opened and a guard walked in with a plate in hand.

"You're not allowed out today, Watcher." He placed the plate on the table, and left. The revolting excuse for food lay on the table all night. James paced about the room, waiting. For what, he was unsure, but he was waiting. He knew something was going to happen, and it wouldn't be good. It was coming, and he could hear it as he heard the patrolling footsteps of the guards outside his door. He touched the door handle with one finger. He could escape if he wanted. But it wasn't time, not yet. Things weren't ready. Plans had to be made, maps had to be drawn, and deaths were mandatory.

As she sat quietly while James painted her portrait, Miss Silvia Julian observed the large and spacious attic, which to the common eye, would seem like a small study. A bookcase in the corner filled with cups of brushes and bottles of paints, a wood box filled with canvases, a line of wonderful portraits hanging in the sunlight, but something was out of place in this brightly adorned room. Something wrapped in a large black cloth peeked out from behind the blank canvases.

"Mr. Nuvio, may I inquire as to what is hidden under that cloth?" James turned, as if surprised, but twitched in slight frustration.

"A disappointment…"

"I'm sorry?"

"An unsuitable piece of work, if you will."

"You have an unsuitable piece of work in existence? I find that almost impossible to believe, may I see it?" He twitched again, hidden only by the large canvas by which he worked.

"Maybe another day when we have less to do." He said as he leaned out from behind the painting, smiling as best he could.

"May I see the painting in its progression?" He sighed in defeat

"Yes, it is time for a break anyway." She stood and slowly walked around the painting. Her eyes widened. It was like looking in a mirror.

"Mr. Nuvio! It's wonderful!" She threw her arms about his neck then pulled them back just as quickly.

"I'm sorry, I've forgotten myself. Will that be all for today?" James turned to the painting then back to her.

"Yes, I think so. Hurry on home, it is almost time for dinner." As she rode away, he stood in this hall, brushing a hand through his hair.

"This is going to be harder then I thought…"