Chapter Text
Bill Cipher was not someone that anyone wanted to mess with. The Kingdom of Gravitatium knew him as the heir to a long line of nobility and magic, the combined houses of Cipher and Somnia. Magic wasn’t exactly uncommon in the kingdom, but the power that Bill had been born with was phenomenal. He was well known as the greatest living mage of the age, hence why no one wanted to go stepping on his toes. Known for being unpredictable, all who knew him by glance were quick to move out of the way as he walked through the town’s market district.
Mendias wasn’t the largest town in the kingdom, no the largest was the Royal Capital of Mystra, but Mendias was still rather large. The Cipher family owned most of the town, save for a few plots of land belonging to other nobility. Which was why those who didn’t move out of fear of the Lord Cipher, moved out of respect for the one that practically owned (and ruled) the town. Bill rather enjoyed the ones that cowered, watching their eyes carefully turn away from him.
It was convenient, having the townspeople bow before him in a sense. They kept out of his way and he made sure that they weren’t over-taxed and their lives weren’t utterly miserable. If everyone in Mendias was being truthful, there were far worse nobles to be under the rule of. Still, it was clear that he was doing much for himself, keeping the possibility of rebellion low while not really doing anything to improve the town. Other than creating a sort of court to help rule on important matters, and owning much of the land, Bill Cipher kept to himself.
It was only every now and then the Lord made his way to town, guards and carriage in tow to pick up a variety of things. From exotic foods to potion ingredients to books to strange trinkets, it wasn’t all that uncommon to see Bill Cipher wandering the marketplace every few months buying whatever caught his eye. Nobody knew what he did otherwise, but then no one really wanted to know and test the rumours (mostly about torture or strange experiments that he had going on behind closed doors) by trying to find out.
Stepping through the parting crowd he grinned almost manically, cackling as a man nearly fell into a child as he quickly tried to move. Really, the meatsacks inhabiting the town were hilarious. He let out a breath, quieting his laughter down as he walked, taking the time to look around at all the wares. While he was there for more spell and potion ingredients that day, he loved to get a few extra things. Every now and then he’d come across a cursed object he felt the need to examine or a book in an exotic language, small things like that.
That day, however, it seemed like the market was much more crowded than normal, he noted with displeasure. There wasn’t any holiday, or festival, or anything he could think of to explain why it would be so busy on a Wednesday afternoon. It wasn’t until he heard a loud obnoxious voice shouting about the qualities of the stock they had for that day that he realized why it was so busy.
The auction house took in stock every day of the week of course, but they only had two days they sold anything. He frowned in displeasure, noting that they must’ve changed their schedule. He’d have to either have a word with the house or merely avoid Wednesday market trips. Being jostled in a crowd of smelly townspeople was not something he wanted to experience again.
He scowled as a woman bumped into him, sending him further into the crowd. It was clear they were so busy listening to the auctioneer that they weren’t paying attention to who they were bumping about. Clenching his fist he was about ready to just explode, consequences be damned, when his eyes fell on the stage.
Bill found himself stopping and just staring at the next item an auction house guard led out and displayed before the crowd. There wasn’t anything special about the boy; he was scrawny with pale skin littered with cuts and bruises typical of his station, and common brown hair and eyes to boot. In fact, there was nothing extraordinary about the boy at all that Bill could immediately discern and so he watched, wondering why he was so interested. It took another few moments before he realized exactly what drew his attention to the boy.
The auctioneer began the sale with the drivel that was practically the same for each item, trying to upsell them in an attempt to make more money than they otherwise would, so Bill paid the loud man no mind, only idly listening to the skills listed for a moment as he watched the boy intensely. Despite being pushed forward roughly on stage, the boy held himself upright, looking down to a point in front of him. Bill watched as the boy’s pale limbs trembled, fear and exhaustion probably being the cause, but he didn’t hunch into himself and continued holding himself up straight somehow.
Bill moved forward, weaving through the crowd of contemptible bodies until he could see the boy’s eyes clearly. The mage’s breath hitched as he saw the maelstrom of emotions swirling in those brown orbs. He didn’t even need to peer into the child’s mind to know that the boy felt a mix of hope and hopelessness, anxiousness and resigned calm. It was strange, the juxtaposition of those emotions, yet beautiful. The boy was teetering on the edge of a blade, about to be sliced in half if he stood there any longer. Bill didn’t know if he wanted to watch the boy sliced or to pull him from the danger.
Raising his arm, Bill joined the rest of the bidders. It had been a long time since something interested him, and this boy had captivated him. He felt like the boy was a puzzle created just for him, to solve or destroy at his leisure. He smirked as he bid again, more than a few bidders dropping out as they noticed him- they knew how wealthy he must be, maybe even wealthier than the crown. A few bids later and the boy was his, and he shivered in delight as the boy lifted his head, their eyes meeting for a moment. He could tell the boy was going to be fun.
He left the crowd, moving towards one of his guards, waving the nervous man over. “My Lord, is there something wrong?” The man asked, his voice betraying how nervous he was about interacting with Bill.
“You can relax… hmm, what’s your name again? Well, whatever- Question Mark, I bought one of the slaves, go and get him will you? Deliver him back to the manor and make sure Red cleans him and takes him to my room,” he commanded flippantly. “I’ve got some things to pick up. Well, what are you waiting for? Go!”
Bill chuckled as the man stuttered before stumbling to quickly obey and avoid his wrath. Sure he’d killed a few of his servants (for good reasons, he assured the staff), but he wasn’t all that cruel compared to some of the other nobility, though he was a bit more unpredictable than them, he supposed. They called him unhinged, eccentric, crazy. It didn’t particularly matter to him what they called him, just that they listened, for now at least. He did change his mind and reactions quite often he realized, so their fears of not knowing how he’d act weren’t totally unfounded.
He turned and started towards his other destinations, intending to pick up some spell ingredients to replace what he’d used recently at the very least, he liked to keep well stocked just in case. One never knew when they might need to raise the dead after all. Maybe he’d pick up some books too… and that strange star shaped fruit, oh, and maybe there were more cursed objects to be found too. Despite his thoughts, he knew he’d not spend too much time at the market. Not when he had a new toy to try out.