polarissruler | FIC: Povetry (Soul Cartel

Ah, finally it's over! This is the last thing I need to post today; the fic for my daily prompt. It's a bit of cheating to use the prompt's name as the title, but:
A) I was already tired from editing all the crossovers and
B) I could not think of a title that fit better.

I hope you like this fic!

Title: Poverty
Prompt: Historical 03 - Poverty
Fandom: Soul Cartel
Rating: T
Summary: As Lord Mastema and Uriel leave the castle, the lord chooses to take an unexpected detour.

Also read it on AO3 and FFN.

The stench had always made Uriel gag. Lord Mastema could have taken any other road. Why had he chosen, with his ever-present fake smile, to walk through the slums? Uriel marched fast. His lord took his time looking around as if every suffering person was a sight worth seeing. Such reason — Uriel would not put it past him.

“Intriguing.” Lord Mastema had run towards Uriel’s side. “I did not believe the pristine Heaven Kingdom had such an ugly site. And in their capital!” His eyes — slit like a snake’s — turned at every plea for help, at every heartfelt beg.

“Food!” A man came near Lord Mastema. Wounds slit through his arms from the fingers to the elbow. He barely walked, shaking and shivering, waddling in everything but a straight line. The rags he was wearing looked as if he had put a blanket on his body. His skeleton-thin fingers circled an open palm — dead branches around a grave.

The man tripped, his bloody hand brushing sightly against Lord Mastema’s dark gray regalia. Blood drew a long, red streak from his heart to the end of the sleeve. Lord Mastema said nothing, but his head turned to Uriel. He snapped his fingers as if ordering a dog around. Uriel took his long sword from the scabbard. The bright sunset glistened the metal and blinded him.

“Well?” asked Lord Mastema. “Will you follow my orders? I need no broken automatons.” Uriel knew the broken’s fate. Lord Mastema’s rumored love of public execution was not baseless. Just a tool to hold the sword — did he had any care for people beyond that? No, how could he? “You said my orders are absolute, did you not? I expect you to follow your promise.”

Nothing would come out of the lord’s threat, right? He enjoyed destroying Uriel’s life too much. He would not break a toy until it begged to be broken.

The heavy sword shook in Uriel’s hands. Any moment it would fall on the ground. One easy move. One powerful slash. One more death to chase him in nightmares. And nothing to haunt the lord’s calm sleep.

The man saw the clear danger. He ran - again a pathetic waddle, barely faster than his usual one.

“My apologies, milord. I could not act on time.” Lie, far too clear. “Shall we walk on our way?”

“After we return to Fort Purgatory,” said Lord Mastema as they entered the chariot, “you will have to explain your actions, Uriel. I thought you have no sympathy left for that kingdom.”

“I do not, milord,” replied Uriel. “What I have sympathy for, are the common people. They would suffer the same if they were in any other kingdom.”

“Ah, a prince of the people?” If snickering was not a clear show of emotion, Lord Mastema would not have stopped laughing all the way to the fort. “If they would suffer equally everywhere, why have you run to us, in Inferno? I’ve decided; giving me your past would be your punishment.”

The snake wanted more power.