A Master of Deceit

A feeling of nausea and disgust crawled all over Remiel's skin as he followed Gentle Touch through the halls of Crimson Sky's manor. With the revelation of what the clothes were made from he was unsure what he should be feeling. Horror, disgust and rage battled in his mind for his attention. A part of him wanted to run for the nearest exit while another wanted to march back into the study to end that creature's life. Only by the strength of his own will did he subdue and ignore these instincts and focus on the task at hand. He would stick to his plan. This was the only option available to him, but it was now clear to him that this wasn't the game he had been treating it as.

Gentle Touch stopped in front of a door and turned to Remiel, her gaze still aimed at the floor. "Here's your room," she said meekly. Remiel donned a pleasant mask and smiled at her warmly.

"My thanks Ms Touch," Remiel said in a kind, charming voice. He opened the door and took one step inside before turning to face her again. "If you would be so kind, would you please fetch me some paper and something to write with, as well as prepare another bath as well? I would greatly appreciate it." The mare nodded her head and left to do his bidding. Remiel turned away from her retreating figure and entered the room and closed the door. His mask fell away as a look void of all emotion took its place. This was the real Remiel. A shell with no soul, a monster with no remorse, and Crimson Sky has brought out its fangs.

It's time to show him how a true monster operates, Remiel thought with no feeling behind it. The first step of his plan began the moment Gentle Touch returned. In the meantime he settled for examining his new room. Surprisingly it was well furnished. There was a large bed with a thick emerald blanket placed along the wall to his right, a small end table with a lit lamp beside it and on the other side a small dresser. Across the room from it was a cushioned reading chair that matched the blanket, and on the far wall was a writing desk, but sadly no paper or pens. It was a good thing he had Gentle Touch go and fetch him some. A dark humor filled Remiel, but it brought no smile to his face. The room wasn't much, but it was where Remiel would conspire Crimson Sky's demise; inside his own manor. Remiel first approached the dresser and opened the top drawer only to find it empty.  A brief search of the remaining drawers turned up much of the same, save for a single pair of red pants.

Remiel carefully felt the material and figured it had to be something like wool. Though all he really cared about was that it clearly felt different from the clothes he was currently wearing. Without wasting a moment Remiel began to strip off the abominations that adorned his flesh and changed into the pants. He disliked not having a shirt to wear, mainly because he saw it as being indecent but also because he had no muscle tone whatsoever, but he saw it as a small price to pay to rid himself of those monstrosities. The crawling on his skin dissipated somewhat, but it wouldn't truly be gone until he had a proper bath, or several. In fact it may never leave entirely so long as Crimson Sky still drew breath, but that would come with time. For now though, he must be patient and find those among the monster's rank he could use to overthrow him.

Remiel moved to sit in the reading chair to think as he waited for Gentle Touch to return. Despite his planning and despite his calm appearance, he felt restless. He had always been in control, knowing everything and having the resources to act in any situation, but now he had nothing. It was foolish of him to think of this as a game when the lives of innocents were in jeopardy. Remiel shook his head. No, he couldn't be concerned with them. He had his own people to worry about, and they were more important to him then the souls trapped here. He unintentionally frowned with that thought.

Then again, Remiel thought to himself his frown disappearing, helping myself and those imprisoned here may not be exclusive to one another. Killing Crimson Sky is the endgame, and not only would it free myself but them as well. Perhaps I could work them into my plan. Remiel pondered on that for a moment, but couldn't find a way that they would be of much use. A rebellion of enslaved miners may make for a good story, but in actuality it wasn't feasible. They were likely worked to the the point of exhaustion every day, and were undoubtedly under fed so they would be too weak to turn against their captors. Even as a distraction they would prove of little use as Crimson Sky almost assuredly had plans in place to deal with such an event. So if he were to use them as a distraction any he swayed to his side would have to sabotage these safety measures. A simple enough task. With this small amendment to his plan Remiel relaxed somewhat. If he could indeed set the workers free to cause chaos then it would likely mean he wouldn't have to recruit as many of Crimson Sky's following as most of his forces would have to deal with containing the workers.

A knock on the door snapped Remiel out of his scheming. "Enter." The door slowly crept open and in walked the pink mare. Remiel forced a bright smile to his face as he looked at her. In her arms she carried a small jar of what he assumed was ink, several pieces of parchment and a few quills. He was slightly surprised at the ink and quills. They must not have invented pens and pencils yet. That was something he could introduce to Tinker, a guaranteed seller. A warm feeling crept into his otherwise cold heart as he thought of the family, joy that they escaped this nightmare. "Thank you, Gentle Touch. Please, set them over there on the desk." She nodded her head in acknowledgement and moved to place the items. She then turned and bowed her head to him.

"I'll have your bath prepared shortly," she said before departing again. Remiel nodded his head and moved over to the writing desk. He sat in the dark wooden chair and examined the quills and ink jar.

This is going to be interesting to say the least. He began yearning for his laptop and printer, or even a typewriter, but sighed in minor annoyance and began the tedious act of learning to write with a quill. It took longer than he hoped and had to dispose of a few pages, but he got it down soon enough and began forging a diary.

Hello, old friend, or rather newfriend as my old friend is still hidden away in my office back home. Hopefully. It seems I've done a wonder of getting myself into another mess. You see, I made the foolish decision of trusting that spineless bastard "King" Joseph when he offered to pay his debts with a damned artifact from his treasury. He claimed it was magic, but I dismissed it as pure fantasy. I should have listened.

He wrote at a blistering pace, lines upon lines of lies appearing on the page in an elegant script. He told of how the object burst into light at his touch and the next thing he remembered was waking on the back of a wagon.

Imagine my surprise when I found a furred creature staring back at me. I had thought I'd gone insane. The creature turned out to be something called a pony. I'll be frank; It scared the hell out of me. Fortunately my delusions of being sacrificed to some pony god were baseless as it turned out that they were actually decent people ponies. Yes, that means they would make easy targets later. After all, I'll need the money in this new land.

He went on to detail the little time he had spent with them, giving false names of course, and wrote about Crimson Sky's henchmen attacking them before finally writing down the most recent events.

I now find myself in the company of a pegasus by the name of Crim Red Hoof. This manstallion is very unnerving. He is intelligent as well as ruthless, but also strangely charismatic. I have convinced him that I am worth more as an asset than a slave. Thankfully. When I learned the true depth of his operations I was more than a little stunned, but equally intrigued. I'm not a stranger to illicit activities, but I've never dreamed of something of this magnitude. Truly this pegasus is a genius. Even though his presence is still unsettling it's nothing a few bags of gold can't fix. So long as I stay in his good graces I will be safe, and perhaps wealthy as well.

Remielhad already planned for this small journal ahead of time. His only concern was getting it all down before Gentle Touch returned. With the final line down on paper he set the quill beside the ink jar and capped the jar. Now all he had to do was wait. It was something Remiel detested, but he was used to. How long does it take to ready a bath? Though Remiel supposed he couldn't complain about that either, it did give him time to write that journal after all. He narrowed his eyes and began to tap his left index finger against the desk.

Finally, there came a familiar knock on the door. "One moment!" Remiel called, sounding slightly panicked. He quickly opened one of the drawers and slid the three pages of his journal into it before hastily shutting it, making enough noise he hoped she heard it. He then stood up and blocked the drawer from the sight of anyone who would be standing in the doorway, but kept his hand on the drawer. "Enter." The door opened and Remiel wore a nervous smile, like one a child would wear when they knew they did something wrong. In walked Gentle Touch, her eyes looking at him instead of the floor. She must have picked up on at least one of his signals. Her eyes briefly flickered from him to the desk, but Remiel made no show that he noticed.

"Your bath is ready, sir," she said quietly.

"Thank you, Ms Touch," he said warmly, albeit nervously. He stepped away from the desk, allowing his right hand to linger on the drawer for a moment. Finally stepping out of reach of the desk his hand fell to his side and he approached Gentle Touch. He continued to smile as he noticed her eyes flicker to the desk again. Satisfied he had tipped her off to where the pages lay, Remiel shifted his focus to the mare. She flicked her eyes to the desk again, she was horrible at being subtle, she turned and led him through the halls once more. After a couple of minutes they arrived at the bathroom once more and Remiel thanked her before dismissing her, assuring her he could find his own way back to his room.

He entered the bathroom and closed the door. He looked longingly at the streaming bath, but knew he couldn't get in. He just had to wait. He silently approached the door again and listened closely. Soon he heard Gentle Touch's footsteps quickly moving away. He knew where she was going. He waited a few minutes then opened the door and backtracked to his room, making sure no one saw him. Fortunately the halls were all deserted as he arrived at his room. Turning the doorknob as slowly and quietly as he could, he gently pushed the door open. Once it was open enough for him to slip in, he did just that, closing the door just as quietly as he had opened it. On the far side of the room he saw Gentle Touch standing over the writing desk, carefully scanning the pages he had written earlier. As quiet as humanly possible Remiel approached her from behind. Just when he was within reach of her the mare suddenly turned around. Remiel's left hand shot up and wrapped around her throat.

Horror crossed the mare's face as she looked into Remiel's eyes, even though he wore a pleasant smile on his face. "Now what do we have here? Don't you know it's rude to go through other's belongings?" The mare went to speak, but Remiel tightened his grip to cut off her words. The mask fell away to reveal a cold and indifferent Remiel. "I didn't give you leave to speak." He loosened his grip so she could breathe. "Now let me tell you why I think you're here. Crimson Sky 'gave'you to me so he could have you spy on me. Correct?" The mare vehemently shook her head in denial and Remiel's vice grip returned. "Do not lie to me. I have neither the time nor patience for it. Now tell me, are you spying on me for Crimson Sky, or rather Red Hoof as you call him?" Gentle Touch refused to answer.

"I don't believe you fully comprehend your situation. I own you now. You were given to me by Crimson Sky. That means I am free to do as I please to you, and not soul will come to your defense." As he spoke he raised his right hand and used his fingers to tenderly move a stray strand of hair that hung down around her face, his voice softening only a little, but it wasn't too calm her. A shiver ran through her body, Remiel wasn't sure if it was out of disgust or fear but neither did he care. Or so he thought. Remiel felt a sickening feeling in his stomach, but pushed it aside. He had to do this. Suddenly her horn flared to life with a bright pink light and Remiel felt his heart stop for a moment. She was going to use magic on him! Remiel froze in shock, when suddenly the markings on his left arm began to glow and pulse like back on the wagon. The light in Gentle Touch's horn flickered and then died as she seemed to lose all of her energy. Remiel recovered quickly and loosened his grip lest she lose consciousness.

"That was very foolish," he warmed, playing it off as if it had been intentional. "Do that again and it will be the last mistake you make." The mare slowly nodded her head in understanding. "Now tell me, are you spying on me for Crimson Sky?" Remiel didn't really need to ask her, the answer was obvious. He merely needed to put on this show to inspire fear in her. She seemed the type to submit easily to those who terrified her, and Remiel needed her silence and obedience for his plan. Loyalty and trust were far more reliable than fear as a means to control others, but Remiel didn't have the time to nurture such a relationship. Fear would have to suffice. Gentle Touch hesitantly nodded her head. Good, this meant Remiel had at least temporarily inspired a greater fear of him than she had of Crimson Sky.

"P-Please, don't h-hurt me," she said in a weak, helpless voice. Tears of fear began to trickle from her eyes. Remiel's stomach churned with disgust for his actions, but he came this far and he couldn't back down now.

"That is entirely up to you," he responded, his voice and face still void of emotion, indifferent to the life he held in his hands. "Now that you've confirmed for me that you were spying for Crimson Sky I could confront him about it. Needless to say that would end poorly for you." Gentle Touch's shaking turned into full on tremors as her fear continued to grow, realising she had made her own noose. "However, I am not without compassion." Remiel let his hand fall from her throat and she reached a hand up to massage the pain. "From here on out you will serve as my eyes and ears in this place. Understood?" Gentle Touch nodded her head. "Any order I give you will be carried out exactly as I say." Again she nodded. "Good, now I assume Crimson Sky will be anxious to hear what you've found in those papers. Tell him everything you've read then return to me immediately afterwards. Tell him I sleep better with company." The mare openly winced at the implications of what would be inferred from that, even though Remiel had no intention of that. Even a monster such as himself had lines he wouldn't cross, albeit very few. "Now go." The mare quickly went around him and disappeared from the room. Remiel released a breath he hadn't known he had been holding in. Reluctantly, he looked down at his left hand in disgust, as if it was responsible for what just happened. Remiel shook his head to try and rid himself of the thoughts, but they refused to leave.

Denied his pace of mind, Remiel began justifying it. I wouldn't actually harm her, he told himself.I just need her to move my plans forward. If I had more time, then perhaps I could have done it differently. I don't have a choice! If things work out well she will benefit as well. She will be free from this place, no longer a slave to that abhorrent creature. Remiel caught himself and shook his head in disgust. Yes, keep telling yourself that you're doing this with her best interests in mind. I'm sure it's a real comfort as she suffers because of it. He had thought he was done seeking justifications for his actions. There was no justifying the things he had done. They were necessary, yes, but that doesn't mean they were the right things to do.

He had thought he learned that lesson long ago so why did this trouble him? What was different about this particular situation? Was it because he was the one directly threatening and manipulating instead of doing it through an agent? No, he had done worse in person than making a woman fear for her life. Perhaps it was because she was innocent? No, innocents were used and killed in the crossfire all the time. Maybe. Maybe it was because of Crimson Sky. Maybe he saw a little bit of himself in that vile monster, that a part of him knew he could easily turn into something just as dark and cruel. Remiel pondered that thought for a moment before giving a humorless chuckle.That couldn't possibly be it. He was far worse than Crimson Sky could ever hope to be. But the difference was not how evil they were, but the goal behind it. Crimson Sky was motivated by power and wealth, whether he had an endgame was irrelevant, whereas Remiel did it to change the world. Another chuckle escaped his lips. He was doing it again. Evil done in the name of good is still evil, but it was the only way he could see. Besides, the only difference that mattered between the two of them was which would live longer, and Remiel was certain it would be him. If it wasn't just one of those things, then maybe it was a combination of all of them.

After a few minutes of internal debate got him nowhere, Remiel finally managed to push the thoughts aside and waited for Gentle Touch to return in silence. He did have the fear that Gentle Touch would betray him to Crimson Sky, but he saw it as only a slim possibility. Still, he was prepared, just in case. As time slowly passed by, he noticed the pulsing light in the markings on his arm began to slow and dim. It seems that I can't store this power permanently. But why? Is it slowly dispersing from my body or is something else at work? The mysteries surrounding the Fragment of God now fused to his arm kept adding up and offered no answers. After several minutes the light had completely faded and moments later the dot opened to reveal Gentle Touch.

"How did he react?" Remiel asked.

"H-He seemed to believe me," she answered quietly.

"No. His reaction. Did he seem pleased? Suspicious?" Gentle Touch didn't look up, but seemed to think for a moment.

"H-He smiled a-a little." Good, he must be pleased with that journal.

"You did well, Gentle Touch." Remiel stood up and walked over to the bed. "Now, let us get some sleep. We will have much work to do in the coming days and a good night's rest will help immeasurably." He heard the mare inhale sharply and he sighed. He grabbed a pillow and one of the two blankets that covered the bed before returning to the reading chair. "Do not fear, I have no interest in...that. You will sleep in the bed and I shall sleep here." He looked at her and saw she had raised her head, a confused look on her face.

"T-The chair?" Remiel nodded his head.

"You did well so I will allow you to sleep in the bed tonight," he responded in a detached voice. "However, while I'm not heartless I will not be so kind should you betray or fail me. But loyalty will be rewarded with care and as much protection as I can offer." The mare looked at him, speechless. It was like he had given her a gift instead of pressed a knife to her throat. "Do not mistake this as kindness. You are an asset, nothing more. If you are to be of use to me I can't have you being harmed or otherwise hindered. That is all."

"W-Why are you doing this?" she asked, finally finding her voice. Remiel was silent for a moment.

"Perhaps I will tell you, but not now. You've done well so far, but trust must be built before I reveal my plans to you." Remiel placed his pillow on the chair before sitting down and making himself comfortable. Getting as comfortable as the chair allowed, Remiel covered himself with the blanket and attempted to go to sleep.

"Thank you," Remiel heard the mare say softly.

"Get some sleep," he replied. "We'll have to wake early so I can brief you on how we're going to proceed from here."

"Understood," she answered. With her dealt with for the time being Remiel adjusted himself slightly and tried to sleep, but it didn't come easily. And once he did find it, it was filed with the same blood and gore as it has always been. Only now Tinker, Healing Touch and Heavy Axe were there as well.

The morning found Remiel waking in a cold sweat as his heart raced. Shaking off the familiar feelings of fear, sorrow and helplessness he roused himself from his position on the chair. He wasn't unaccustomed to sleeping in a chair, he had fallen asleep at his desk multiple times, but this time he didn't have a desk to lay his head on. At least this chair was somewhat comfortable and larger than his desk chair. He cracked his neck and looked over to the bed, seeing Gentle Touch still sleeping soundly. A small smile tried to force its way out, but Remiel kept it down. He had already grown too attached to Tinker and his family, he refused to allow it to happen again. Remiel began coughing suddenly. His left hand quickly rose to his lips to try and stifle the noise, but it was too late. He heard feet on hardwood floor and felt something furry Touch his left arm and shoulder.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?" It was Gentle Touch, and she sounded concerned? Remiel quickly waved her off with his right hand as he tried to stem the flow of blood from his lips with his left. "I'll go get-" Gentle Touch moved to leave but Remiel grabbed her with his free hand, and shook his head 'no'. After a moment the coughing fit subsided and Remiel sat panting heavily for a moment. "A-Are you alright?" Remiel nodded his head.

"Don't worry...about it," he told her weakly.

"Are you sick? Do you need a doctor?" Again he shook his head.

"It's a condition...I was born with, but the only thing you need...to concern yourself with is what I need you to do today." Gentle Touch's corned look didn't fade, but she reluctantly nodded her head. "Good." Remiel took a moment to compose himself. "Now, everyone will be expecting that I have had my way with you." The mare flinched at his words. "Ruffle your hair and make yourself look slightly disheveled. You are to feed these beliefs, but don't openly talk about it. Be reluctant, but if they insist give them a tale about me assaulting you and taking you against your will." The mare looked shocked.

"Why would," Remiel cut off her words with a harsh glare.

"Did I not make myself clear last night? Do as your told. No questions." Gentle Touch flinched and nodded her head. "As for your meeting last night with Crimson Sky, did he give you any instructions regarding what to do with me today?" She nodded her head.

"Somepony was to bring you to him in his study so you could have breakfast together." Remiel nodded his head.

"Excellent. First, bring me a wet towel, I need to clean myself." She nodded her head and walked to the door, stopping to make herself look disheveled as he commanded, and quickly left. Just then another attack ravaged his body. Only this time it sent him sprawling on the ground, convulsing as if he was having a seizure. It continued for a few minutes before leaving him on the ground, sweating and gasping for air, his head lying in a small pool of blood.

It's...getting worse, he thought, exhausted. Once he managed to get himself together he lifted himself off the ground and crawled away from the blood. He turned around and used the chair to help prop himself up and stand. Once he was standing he immediately decided against it and sat back down in the chair. This wasn't good. He had assumed the attacks would get worse but not this soon. He may not have as much time as he thought. Then he would need to move his plans faster than he originally thought. But if he did that then the plan may unravel. He would have to take a careful approach, perhaps cut a few corners. All he really needs is enough guards to keep him safe while he killed Crimson Sky, and an escape route. Perhaps he could limit it to a handful of pawns he could sacrifice to slip away. Perhaps seven or so. Enough to be effective, but small enough to avoid attention. Yes, that should do. If he needed to he could even split the group, one team to free the slaves for a distraction then secure their escape in the ensuing chaos and the other to escort him out after Crimson Sky had been dealt with.

The door to the room opened and in walked Gentle Touch, the wet towel in hand. She approached Remiel and kneeled down in front of him, a caring look on her face, before tenderly cleaning his face. Remiel gave her a speechless look as his mind went blank. After wiping off one part of his face she went to wipe another and he flinched away from her.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" she asked softly. Remiel just looked at her, dumbfounded. It took him a moment to realize he was just staring at her before he shook his head.

"N-No," he managed to stammer out, his face growing warm. He held his right hand out, palm up. "I-I can wash it myself." Gentle Touch gave him a confused look, but handed him the wet cloth. He thanked her and began washing his face. He had never had someone do something so...intimate. He had learned at an early age he had to care for himself. He never knew his mother, and his father had been...detached to say the least. He never had someone touch him so tenderly. It was alien to him He shook off his shock and decided to get his mind off of it. "D-Did anyone approach you?"

"N-No," she stammered out. "Some of Red Hoof's enforcers chuckled, and the staff looked like they pitied me." Remiel nodded his head, distracted from his embarrassment by news of the success of his plan. Word will undoubtedly spread of this facade and because of it Crimson Sky will think he found a way to monitor and control him, and Remiel will get his first follower. Though he could already feel how...unpleasant recruiting his first follower will be. There was nothing for it. He had to start somewhere.

Remiel finished cleaning his face and other parts the blood had touched before motioning for Gentle Touch to move and he proceed to clean the small pool of blood on the floor, much to Gentle Touch's surprise. "Y-You didn't have to clean that. I-I would have cleaned it." Remiel shook his head.

"I made this mess, it's only right I clean it," he responded, his tone slightly warmer than it had been. "Do you know what Crimson Sky wants to speak with me about?" He already had an idea of what the pegasus wanted to talk about, but perhaps the mare knew something more.

"No," she admitted, sounding almost ashamed. "He only told me that somepony would come and bring you to him for breakfast."

"I see," Remiel said. Then he noticed something. "I've noticed you said somepony, not someone. Why is that?" Gentle Touch gave gin a confused look.

"Because that's how you refer to somepony."

"So instead of saying 'someone' I should say 'somepony'?" The mare nodded her head.

"Somepony, anypony. That's how we speak. Remiel nodded his head. Then he paused for a moment. He rose to his feet and turned to face the mare. He was about to apologize for his mistreatment of her when suddenly the door to the room opened and in walked a familiar blue unicorn mare.

Seems I'll get my first recruit sooner than I believed, he thought darkly. Subtly handing the bloodied washcloth to Gentle Touch behind his back, Remiel gave a bright, carefree smile to Crystal Clear. "Are you here to escort me to Red Hoof?" The dark look on the mare's face was almost scary and Remiel braced for what was soon to follow. This may hurt more than I originally believed.