Promotional Work: Catching Starlight

The Master and His Loyal Mutt

A young man with dark blue hair that began with purple roots sat on a rooftop overlooking the capital city. He was wearing rust colored armor with the image of a hairy monster sewed onto his sleeve. He was holding a dagger in his lap with a whetstone resting at his feet. The dagger glimmered sharply in the fading light, the silver metal illuminated by a bright gold. The young man stared towards the sunset, trying to see the last dredges of light disappear behind the horizon. All he could see were towers of smoke that gracefully spun in the wind.

A noise sounded behind him. A heavy thud like a musician pulling the string of a bass reverberated in the air around them followed by the chime of quickly moving steel. A swish of cold air fanned his neck as the sharpened head of a dark purple-black spear. The man lifted his head, seeing his calm expression in the mirror-like surface of the spear. He didn't smile as he met the angry, icy blue eyes of the woman carrying the weapon.

"I will give you one opportunity to explain what the fuck you think you're doing," She threatened, and they both knew she wasn't kidding. She was a woman of many infamous rumors and terrifying titles. She was called Hellhound by the masses. A dog that guarded the gates of hell, tearing demons and wandering souls apart without any mercy. She was the last face people saw when they perished, their bodies being mutilated until they were a mess of bloodied flesh and broken bone. That name came from the fact that she was exactly like the mutt from the depths of purgatory.

Another name she went by, however, was one that only her closest comrades and dead men knew. Covielle was the name that was given to her by the Bard of Avon, Shakespeare. He explained that in the Commedia dell'arte, Coviello (the masculine version of the name) was an adroit and supple character belonging to the zanni category. She had been proud of the name when it was first bestowed upon her. Now, all she knew is that it was the chain that held her to her sins. It was the name of a sly and conceited servant who obeyed the whims of its master. Perhaps the clever bard had been predicting her future when he called her that and put her in the care of the Chamberlain Troupe.

"You are awfully kind to allow me a moment to explain my decisions. If I were any other soul, I would have already been stabbed through the stomach and impaled with dozens of cursed thorns," The man said, pushing the spear away with his finger. The weapon twisted out of his grasp, coming to a stop when it hit Covielle's back.  The man in front of her was known as Magnifico. The man before her shared many qualities with the actor from the Commedia dell'arte. They were thinkers who used their intelligence to remain in control of the situation. They carried themselves with grace and superiority. They looked down on people metaphorically and literally. They were determined and egotistical. The only difference is that the character made it clear he was in charge; the man in front of her was fond of playing the puppeteer. He was the first person Shakespeare had recruited, and no one knew where he came from before that. His secondary sponsor provided him with significant strength, but he rarely used it. He preferred to send his subordinates, comrades, and the little shadow monsters he conjured to do his bidding.

"You can't weasel your way out of this one, Cyrus," Coviello spat out the name. It was Magnifico's real name. It wasn't a title Shakespeare gave him or a name the masses called him. It was a name Magnifico gave himself, and that made it all the more powerful. When his true name was called, something important or horribly wrong had happened. In this case, both had happened.

"Before you start demanding something as valuable as information, you need to take a good look at yourself. Can you handle the truth? Will you be able to put your emotions aside to critically think about what I have to say? The answer is no. You are an excellent and brutal fighter, Coviello, but you are not as clever as you would like to be. You are meant to follow orders and trust that I have your and the world's best interest at heart," Magnifico said with a bitter laugh rising in his words. Each sentence was as sharp as a knife and heavy as thunder. Magnifico wasn't just trying to hurt her feelings. No, that would be too elementary for him. He was trying to make her feel small and weak, like her value only came from being his puppet. She had been on the receiving end of this manipulation enough times to identify it at a glance.