The New God's Of Avaricia

The battle had been lost before it had even begun.

The next day, as the House of Garnet stirred to life with the pallid light of dawn, Ava's heart felt as heavy as the fog that clung to the city streets outside. She moved through the corridors like a ghost, her eyes red-rimmed and haunted by the specter of her own failure. The whispers of the house had carried the news that Sam Bower would visit Elara's chamber, and she knew that her love had not been enough to protect the girl.

As she passed by the young sparrow's room, the door cracked open a sliver, revealing the girl's terrified gaze. The sight of Elara's tear-stained cheeks and trembling chin was like a knife twisting in Ava's gut. The girl's eyes searched hers, desperate for some sign of salvation, but all Ava could offer was a broken smile and a silent nod of reassurance.

Forcing a smile that felt as fragile as the house's crumbling façade, Elara whispered through the crack, "It will be okay, won't it?" Her voice was a thread of hope, a feeble attempt to stitch the shreds of comfort back together. Ava felt her own resolve waver at the sound, the weight of her failure pressing down on her like a heavy mantle.

In that moment, Ava's smile was a lie of the most profound kind, a silent pact between two souls bound by fate and desperation. She knew the depth of the horror that awaited Elara in the presence of Sam, knew the way his eyes had once looked upon her own innocence. Yet she had to maintain the façade, to give the girl some semblance of comfort in the face of the inevitable.

Her feet seemed to move of their own accord as she rushed through the shadowy corridors of the House of Garnet, her heart a tumultuous sea within her chest. Each step echoed like the toll of a doomed bell, a mournful symphony that seemed to resonate with the very walls themselves. Madam Agatha's chamber loomed before her, a bastion of hope in the storm of despair that had enveloped them all.

"Madam," Ava's voice was a desperate plea as she burst into the room, "you must not allow Elara to be sent to him. She is innocent, pure, and he will destroy her." The words tumbled out of her mouth, a torrent of fear and love that could not be contained.

Madam Agatha looked up from her ledger, her eyes narrowing with the wisdom of years. "And what would you have us do, Ava?" she asked, her tone deceptively calm. "Defy the will of the most powerful family in the city?"

Ava knew the madam was right; the Bowers' power was absolute, their wrath a tempest that could lay waste to the very foundations of the House of Garnet. Yet, she had to try. "Elara is just a child," she said, her voice a tremulous whisper. "To give her to that monster is to consign her to a fate worse than death."

Madam Agatha's expression softened, the lines of age on her face deepening with the weight of her own regret. "I had hoped you would be the one to change his heart," she murmured, her eyes never leaving Ava's. "But it seems that love is not a force that can be bent to our will."

Ava felt the sting of failure like a fresh wound, each of her steps echoing through the chamber like a mournful dirge. "What chance did I have?" she asked, her voice raw with pain. "Against a creature so devoid of humanity?"

Madam Agatha sighed, the weight of her own regrets etched into the lines of her face. "You had the chance of love," she said softly. "It is a power that can move mountains, or so the old sayings go."

Her words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the House's early morning activities. The madam had given her the opening, the opportunity to save Elara from a fate that no one deserved. But Ava had failed, her love a mere whisper in the face of Sam's monstrous appetites.

Madam Agatha's gaze grew steely. "You know the stakes, Ava. The House of Garnet cannot stand against the Bowers." The unspoken truth lay heavy between them—Elara was the currency that would ensure their survival, a sacrifice to be made on the altar of political expedience. "I have no choice," she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of a thousand such decisions.

Ava's eyes flashed with a desperate resolve. "If you do nothing, I will!" she shouted, her voice a clarion call that pierced through the heavy silence of the chamber. "I will not stand by and watch an innocent girl be destroyed by that beast!"

With the force of a tempest, she stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut with a resounding boom that seemed to shake the very walls of the House of Garnet. The sound of her bare feet stomping down the corridor reverberated through the hushed space, leaving Madam Agatha to contemplate the gravity of the situation.

The stakes were higher than ever before. Ava knew that if she did not act, the girl would be lost to the monstrous hunger that dwelt within Sam Bower. Yet, the fear of the Bowers' retribution was a specter that haunted her every step. Their power was like a noose tightening around the neck of the brothel, choking the life from every soul who dared to oppose them.

With a steely resolve that belied the turmoil in her heart, she approached Elara's chamber. Her eyes were the color of a tempest, her voice a whisper of thunder. "I will not allow her innocence to be defiled," she murmured, the words a vow that seemed to echo through the very stones of the House of Garnet.

The night had descended like a cloak of despair upon the city, the stars obscured by the oppressive fog. Yet, in the heart of the brothel, a solitary flame of hope burned bright. Ava knew that the time had come to act, to do what she should have done from the very beginning.

When the carriage of Sam Bower pulled up outside the House of Garnet, the air grew thick with tension. The clatter of hooves and the jingle of harnesses seemed to be a grim tolling of the bells that heralded the girl's fate. Ava watched from the shadows, her heart hammering in her chest like a caged bird desperate for escape.

The first night had been a dance of seduction and deception, a masquerade of passion where she had offered her own soul in exchange for Elara's innocence. Yet, the demon that was Sam had seen through her ruse, leaving her bruised and defeated. Now, as the second night dawned, the stakes were higher, the tension a palpable force that coiled around them like a serpent, squeezing the very breath from their lungs.

Sam Bower strutted into the House of Garnet with the confidence of a peacock in full display. His eyes raked over the finely appointed chamber with an air of possession that sent a shiver down everyone's spines. It was clear that he thought himself the lord of this place, a king in the land of shadows and whispers. His steps were those of a man who knew that every head would bow and every knee would bend before him.

At the front desk, Madam Agatha met him with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. She knew the horror that awaited Elara and felt the weight of her complicity in the girl's fate. Yet, the wheels of fate had been set in motion, and she could only hope that Ava had found some way to save her.

"Your usual chamber, Mr. Bower?" she asked, her voice a forced melody of sweetness.

Sam's eyes narrowed as he took in the madam's forced smile. He knew she was not one to be trifled with, yet he could not help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the power he held over her. "Yes," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Send Ava's waiting girl to me at once."

The madam's smile grew brittle, but she nodded, her eyes flickering to Ava who had emerged from the shadows. "Of course," she murmured, her voice a serpent's hiss. "Elara will be sent to your chamber directly."

With a curt nod, Sam Bower strode down the corridor, his footsteps echoing through the House of Garnet like the march of doom.

As the door to Elara's chamber swung open, the air grew thick with anticipation and dread. The girl sat on the edge of the opulent bed, swaddled in the finest silks that money could buy. The candlelight danced across her youthful form, casting an ethereal glow that seemed to mock the darkness that was about to claim her. Her eyes, wide with fear, searched the shadows, seeking refuge from the monster that approached.

And then, like a silent guardian angel, the door clicked shut, sealing them both from the outside world. The soft sound of the latch falling into place echoed through the room, a harbinger of the fate that awaited them. The tapestry that adorned the wall rippled, revealing the hidden form of Ava. Her hand clenched around the hilt of a dagger, the steel glinting menacingly in the candlelight.

-To Be Continued-