Hi, and happy 2013 to all readers!

DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise from the Fable series belongs to me. I mention characters and events based both on Fable III, and, in this chapter, the Traitors' Keep DLC. I also make a reference, with no offense intended, (should offence be taken), to an enthusiastic game designer.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: MODERATE SUGGESTIVE THEMES, MENTAL ILLNESS THEMES

CHAPTER 10

INSIDIOUS INTENT IN ALBION

Elliot

Mum was in a lot of pain when she died. If Dad and I didn't miss her so much, I would have been happy that she'd gone on to better things. I've always been glad we had that extra time together before she went.

Things were pretty morbid at my home, with Dad being so depressed. I tried to cheer him up, but I wasn't cheerful myself, so success was limited. I missed Marion, too. I wondered if she was going to get better. At that time, I wouldn't have put it past Logan to have her poisoned or something like that: a rash of people had been executed for supposed sedition and treason. There was a lot of controversy, since there was actually solid proof that the charges were accurate, but most people sympathised with the criminals, even though they had committed the crimes. Logan had turned into a complete tyrant.

Taxes went up even more, quickly transforming Bowerstone's Old Quarter into a slum. Town guards disappeared on strange campaigns, leaving crime to run riot so badly that it probably hadn't been that way since Her Majesty's childhood. Money promised by the Crown to public causes was never granted. Financial aid for poor, injured, and abused people disappeared, (including the aid fund for prostitutes who wanted to stop walking the streets, leading to a rash of them being murdered, dying of starvation, or having to continue when they wanted to stop.) The orphanages started shutting down, unable to find other sources of funding. Criminals were bribing and extorting at every turn. The economy started suffering. None of this happened overnight, of course, but it did happen within four months. But the worst thing was when Reaver turned up from the blue.

I do mean Reaver, the Hero of Skill, and lifelong enemy of Her Majesty. He had, so people said, fled when Her Majesty defeated Lucien, and now, his enemy removed, had returned. Everyone expected him to return to Bloodstone and transform it back into its original vileness, but instead, he went to Logan, who, completely disregarding his mother's honour, struck a completely unacceptable deal with Reaver: Our industrial sector, which had always been productive, but ethical, suddenly implemented slave labour and child labour. Not only that, but many of the inventions were unnecessary, and there for the purpose of making revenue. The pollution also increased enormously, and spewed out into Bowerstone River, and then to the sea, like a giant, toxic ink pot had been tipped over. What, you may asked, happened to Professor Ernest Faraday of Faraday Industries, who was the head man of the industry at the time? Well, he'd also disappeared just before Reaver conveniently arrived. Nobody knew how he'd upset Logan, but he'd been locked away in Ravenscar Keep, Albions most secure and brutal prison. Well, but the people of Albion were angry. Not to mention Dad and myself.

Life fell into a pattern during those four months, and the two following months as well. For half the week, I stayed at the mansion with Dad, trying to keep him company and carry on with life. Then, I'd go to the castle and see if Logan had changed his mind about letting me visit Marion. He never did, so Jasper or Walter let me know how she was doing – which was always very badly – and I'd leave to do whatever I was going to do for the rest of the week. It generally involved helping in soup kitchens, or getting tired prostitutes off the streets, or possibly building huts for the homeless. The other lads and ladies who were on the job were nice, decent people, from many walks of life. Some were wealthy, like me, others middle class, and some were poor, but wanted to help others who were slightly poorer. After a while, problems got so bad that I had to choose just one area to help with exclusively. I decided that the best thing would be to get the child labourers in Bowerstone Industrial into good homes. So, for the second half of every week, I lived in Bowerstone Industrial, staying in a ramshackle room at the Riveter's Rest Inn. At first, I tried getting the children into the single remaining orphanage in Bowerstone, but not all of them were orphans, and, after a while, the pleasant secondary manager had to tell me, with regret, that they couldn't afford to keep my charges any more. After that, I got together with a couple of other people to try to keep the child labourers fed and sheltered, but we had limited success. After a gruelling, heart wrenching period in the slums, I would return to the mansion, stopping by the castle again on the way.

I'm not perfect, and sometimes, I neglected to see how Marion was doing. It wasn't just discouragement, either: sometimes, I got sick of it, and felt that it might be better if I just forgot about her and got on with my life. After all, I reasoned, if she ever regained consciousness, she might have been on the same intellectual level as a hobbe. Did I really want to cope with that? But I always went back, and I always regained hope. I also wasn't miserable all the time, which I felt guilty about for ages, until I realised that, actually, it's human nature to bounce back, no matter how bad things are. I couldn't help but enjoy a good steak when I returned to the mansion after several days roughing it in Bowerstone Industrial. I did sleep soundly more often than not. I still enjoyed a good book or game of chess, and kept up my physical regime. Even though Marion wasn't there to share it, I still liked watching the sun rise and set over the castle rooftops, (from afar, of course). I was happiest, though, when I saw the children in the streets enjoying a good meal, or clutching a stuffed rabbit I'd bought from a shopkeeper. I guess that makes me at least a bit more virtuous.

Then, after six months, I received a message from the castle. It read;

'I, His Majesty King Logan of Albion, revoke the ban from castle grounds on one Master Elliot Molyneux. I also inform Master Molyneux that Her Highness Princess Marion of Albion is conscious and anxious to see Master Molyneux.

It was sealed with the royal crest. Obviously, I wasted no time in getting to the castle.

Thanks for reading, and please review to let me know how I can improve my writing!