FicWad

S E A . O F . M A D N E S S
A Prologue of Sorts




Foreword
Please keep in mind that while there is no set time, the technology is rather primitive. It's probably around 1860-1920, if you need a slightly clearer image, but the story is definitely a fictional tale... set in America, by the way. ;D



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"...Hitherto, it had been a grand game... but... my time is finally up..."

The 'dying words' of the last Tsar. But they were not fitting. They did not seem like something he would say. No... Nikolai would have never referred to life as a 'game', not in his final shot at a good metaphor. Moreover, Elias Tolmanov was under the impression that the Tsar had been much too young to die of natural causes... it was quite probable that there had, in fact, been a terrible murder in the great country of Russia.

But who? How? Why?

Elias had met more than a few suspicious characters over the last couple months. As an unofficial detective, it was only expected that he be often found in dangerous and less-than-aristocratic locations... constantly searching for whatever there was to be found among the slum's polluted back streets. Thus he had managed to forge bonds with less-than-aristocratic people. The bonds served him well, in his studies, and research, and attempts at 'policery'.

But none of them - not one of those dastardly men that could most likely kill without flinching - seemed capable of doing anything so magnificently treacherous.
That's how it started, anyway - with that simple, unknowing utterance of a nobody Elias had passed on the street.

"They say his last words were..."




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Eduard Tolmanov was a respected detective, to say the least. His life revolved around his work - and as a result, the man was untouchable. Best in his class, known worldwide for solving the most mysterious, improbable cases. The ace player of Nikolai's Nine, a team of detectives from different precincts that were so successful; they worked for the Tsar himself, who ordered them in person. It was an honor to be proud of - Nikolai was a man whose face was hidden from the general public. The only people who knew what he looked like, as well as his true personality, were people of the Nine's rank and higher.

Eduard soon married Katrina Aisenyev. He was twenty-seven, and she was nineteen. He had been working for the Tsar for three years already, and had already accomplished what most men twice his age could merely dream of accomplishing. Only his young wife matched his sharp wit and unimaginable ability to solve problems. And she bore him two equally bright sons. Fraternal twins. Elias and Dmitry.

Of the two boys, Elias seemed to far surpass Dmitry in regards to learning abilities, at first. Such was the case until they turned five, and Dmitry had pretty much caught up to Elias in every which way. Though Elias always seemed one step ahead... he always made the extra effort. He had obviously taken after his father, even if he did have his mother's blonde hair, and grey eyes.

It was to be his downfall.