~ Interlude I: The Gilded Gluttony ~

 ~ Interlude I ~
The Gilded Gluttony

The dining hall of Lord Valerius was a cathedral to stolen time. High above, the vaulted ceiling was painted with a mural of the Great Engine, not as a machine of metal, but as a golden sun radiating life to a chosen few.

Lord Valerius sat at the head of a long table carved from white marble. Across from him sat Julian Thorne, his uniform crisp, his eyes like chips of flint. Between them sat a centerpiece—not food, but a "Temporal Fountain." It was a delicate glass structure where pure, unrefined essence dripped slowly, glowing with a soft, haunting neon green.

"The Sinks are restless, Julian," Valerius murmured, swirling a glass of deep amber liquid. It wasn't wine; it was a 'vintage' of twenty years harvested from a rural district fifty years ago. To drink it was to feel the vigor of a twenty-year-old for a single, blissful hour. "The tremors in the lower wards... they say the Unwinding is starting early this cycle."

Julian didn't look up from his own glass. "The Unwinding is a physical necessity, Valerius. If we do not vent the pressure of the years we hoard, the Engine explodes. If the peasants feel the ground shake, let them. It reminds them that the ground only stays beneath their feet because we allow it."

"And the girl? The one who broke into your vault tonight?"

Julian’s grip tightened on his glass. "A flea. She thinks she stole essence to save a dying sister. She doesn't realize she stole a drop of water from an ocean that is already boiling. I will increase the tax in the Sinks by fifteen percent tomorrow. We need to stabilize the core, and if the poor must age a decade in a day to keep this ceiling from falling on our heads, then that is the price of order."

He took a long, slow sip. For a moment, his wrinkles smoothed, his eyes brightened, and the century-old man looked like a youth of twenty. He exhaled a mist of pure light. "They are not people, Valerius. They are fuel. And one does not pity the coal as it burns."