Birth name of Empress Rheyn Destoiya, twin sister of Pietas
Series page: https://kayelleallen.com/chaos-series/
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Click covers for the buy link. Click text for the website page and excerpts.
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Series page: https://kayelleallen.com/chaos-series/
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Spymaster Alitus Vivaldi paused beside his new assistant's desk and tapped a finger on it.
The man jumped to his feet. "Yes, sir?"
"I didn't mean to startle you, Jarod." The man had been with Alitus less than a week, but he'd already proven himself invaluable. "I'll be working on a Class Four project the rest of the day. Keep interruptions to a minimum."
"Yes, sir. I'll ensure you're not disturbed, Minister Vivaldi."
Inside his private office, Alitus set the standard safeguards, and added a few layers of additional protection. The glowing logo for the Conqueror's Division of Imperial Intelligence faded as Alitus pulled up a bank of images from the idBot interface. He flicked his fingers to cast images onto the walls around the room.
"Begin capture. Target: Wulf Gabriel. Parameters: record my questions as well as any and all information available in database for target." Pointing toward the top right of one wall, Alitus moved his finger diagonally to the bottom left to bring up another bank of pictures. "Play series." His current quarry was walking toward the Renyoj Building in the Di Consueto District. "Stop playback."
Alitus tapped a finger on one picture to create a still, and zoomed in for a better view. Mid-stride, Wulf had reached the entrance. He wore a charcoal gray suit, dark hair tousled from the breeze. A former supermodel, Wulf's chiseled features and strong jaw set him apart in any crowd.
How could anyone fail to recognize him? Wulf was beautiful. All he had to do is walk into the room and everything stopped.
The lover of wealthy tycoon Luc Saint-Cyr, few things Wulf did were off the public record. The man still had fans from his modeling career five years ago, but these days, fans followed him because he managed famous rock bands for Lucsondis Entertainment, Saint-Cyr's business.
That wasn't what had warranted the attention of the spymaster. Wulf was no traitor to the crown, and he'd committed no crimes.
Wulf was suspected of having an affair.
Luc Saint-Cyr wanted to be sure, and since he was a friend of the Conqueror, she had tasked Alitus with finding out who was to blame. Saint-Cyr might have no qualms about engaging in an affair himself, and was well-known for his licentious behavior, but his partner had no such freedom. Saint-Cyr and the Conqueror were allies in every sense of the word. Were even lovers when it suited them.
Alitus would refuse no request she made. Nor could he refuse Saint-Cyr. One drew the Harbinger's ire at one's peril.
The man owned a large percentage of legitimate businesses on Tarth, Kelthia, and a smattering on other planets. He had once headed the Kelthian Thieves' Guild. No one had yet proven he led the largest crime syndicate in the empire, but the assumption was there, despite official denials. There was no public discussion of Saint-Cyr anywhere except entertainment news, where it seemed to be encouraged. On Kelthia, they said his name only if they couldn't avoid it. Otherwise he was the Harbinger, or the Man, or simply Him.
One could hear the capital letters.
Proving Wulf was having an affair would be dangerous. It could cost Wulf everything, up to and including his life.
Especially if they discovered the affair was with Alitus.
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The Bringer of Chaos hero wears a black mask painted on his face. It covers his eyes, up to and over the eyebrows. Why?
When I started writing about Pietas, the hero of the Bringer of Chaos series, I had no idea he wore a mask. The mask had never been part of my plan. But one day I was searching for a picture of an angel for a graphic design project, and came across a fascinating image of a fallen angel and a horned demon. Since the angel was male and had long blond hair, I was immediately intrigued. Often, angels are portrayed as sweet females who look heavenward with a devoted expression. They seem about as dangerous as milk. However, in Bible stories, one of the first things angels say when they appear is "Fear not." Why would they say that unless they inspired some kind of fear themselves? And the only named angels have male names. So, yes, I was fascinated to see a male angel. I clicked on the picture to get a better look.
Lo, and behold (sorry, I couldn't resist that) the person looking out from the image seemed to be staring straight into my soul. I zoomed in to get a better view, and in that instant I knew I was looking at Pietas, despite the mask. He seemed to be saying "What took you so long? I've been waiting for you." Look at this face! Arrogance personified. Those teal blue eyes pierce. He's a dead ringer for Pietas.
The photo shoot was a series of images between the one-winged angel and a horned female demon. The angel was being subjected to various bad things by the female, yet portrayed as sensual, rather than defeated. He was enjoying the attempted subjugation, but he wasn't submitting. How like Pietas.
The problem was, why would Pietas wear a mask? At that point, I decided it didn't matter. I liked the image. I bought it and put it aside for inspiration. However, I kept going back and looking at the picture, and thinking "What's with the mask?"
Pietas is the Gamemaster of Peril, a real-time role-playing game my immortals use as a means of both passing the time and also as a means of manipulating human society. In their various roles within Peril, the immortals introduce certain aspects into society and culture to direct mankind. Why? Peril, in itself, is a mask. It hides the real reason the immortals are among humans. Are they there to subjugate the human race, and turn it to their own collective will? Pietas, as the leader, directs every aspect of it. A little scary, isn't it? Doesn't it ring true in today's society, where we hear about conspiracy theories and stories of the illuminati, and secret, powerful groups directing mankind?
When I realized the mask had something to do with the role Pietas held in Peril, I went back and bought more images. The model's name is Nik Nitsvetov, and he's Russian. Nik has since done 3 private cosplays as Pietas.
I'm writing books about Pietas. The first takes place in the distant past of my universe and is an origin tale about my immortals. His love story is very sketchy right now. I think I know who Pietas falls in love with, and in the current universe, that person is not a fan of his at all. In fact, that person is trying to undermine his authority and recruit his people away from him. Not a good way to start a relationship. Again, how like Pietas. He never does things the easy way.
In what I'm writing now, he has no idea who this person is or if they even exist.
Below is an excerpt in which he applies the mask. This is the first time he does it in the Bringer of Chaos books. The second time, it's with an entirely different flair and for different reasons. Both scenes pack emotional wallops.
Early on the first morning of the peace talks, Pietas entered his round bathing room. Starlight filtered through the portal overhead. Sleek silver walls reflected the cool light.
He remained at the door, content to savor its calming glow. Its beauty did not dispel the worry niggling at his mind. Not given to trusting premonitions and omens, he grounded himself with meditation. Once he centered himself and calmed his spirit, Pietas took a deep, purifying breath, and with slow deliberation, exhaled.
"Time to begin. Lights."
The room brightened.
His platinum hair streaming down his bare chest, he lifted his hands, palms up as if praying.
On the planet Kaffir, warriors used this ritual to summon spirits. He used it to affirm his own superior strength and prowess.
Before a copper fire pit, he plucked one blond hair, and fed it to the fire. It singed and melted.
"As fire has victory over life, so I have victory over my enemies."
He passed a hand through the flame, and hissed at the searing heat, relishing the pain. He cupped his hand over the flame's source, and held it until the fire went out. The burns on his palm cooled, and the skin healed. Of all the elements, fire alone had power to linger on an Ultra's skin. He welcomed it as a symbol of victory.
"I am powerful, as fire is powerful."
Pietas thrust both hands forward, clutched his fists, and yanked them back.
"I own the wind. I prevail over the breath of my enemies."
In the bathing area, he took six steps down into a waist-deep pool.
"Water submits to my presence the way enemies submit to my will."
He cupped water in his hands, lifted it, and let it pour down his arms.
"The blood of my enemies trickles into the pool of time, is absorbed, and forgotten."
He pushed wet fingers through his hair, and released it.
"My mind is clear. I do not waver."
He submersed, and rose, head thrown back, face lifted to the sparkle of stars above.
"My body submits to my will. No pain defeats me. No fear touches me."
He swept his hands down his chest to his loins, and the tops of his thighs.
"My will is absolute."
A scratching sound alerted him to the presence of his silver-skinned android servant. The creature entered, and Pietas fixed him with a hard glare. "Why did you interrupt me?"
"Your guest is here, my lord, in the living area." He offered Pietas a towel.
"Leave it." He waved the android away.
After exiting the pool, Pietas brushed off the water and wrung out his hair. He pulled out a tray holding half a dozen clasps. He chose a silver dragon studded with six turquoise stones, twisted his wet hair, and fastened it up, out of the way.
He dried his face, gathered a brush, and picked up a pot of black face paint. Leaning in close to a freestanding mirror, he outlined a bandit's mask from beneath his eyes to over his dark eyebrows, and filled it with black.
He'd worn the mask in battle ever since defeating the First Division, a human special-ops group formed to fight Ultras. It came about because Pietas had slain an enemy, and blood splashed across his eyes. Thinking the blood belonged to Pietas, the Ultra troops had rallied to him and slaughtered the humans. The blood dried almost black.
Stories of how their "bandit king" had conquered the First Division filled the night. The name stuck. To his troops, he was First Conqueror, War Leader of the Ultras.
Pietas turned his head side to side, surveying the effect.
His body would reject foreign matter on his skin. The Ultra metabolism protected from every perceived attack, even harmless face paint. He closed his eyes and sprayed sealant over the mask to delay its disappearance by a few hours.
Satisfied with his looks, Pietas pulled on a pair of loose white lounging pants. With a deep, cleansing breath, he opened the door. Damp, shirtless, barefoot, he padded into the adjacent room.
Series page: https://kayelleallen.com/chaos-series/
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Book Hooks is a weekly cooperative blog hop hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog.
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Click covers for the buy link. Click text for the website page and excerpts.
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