《Grimoire》


 Match

    Darkness. Ever present, sweeping over the seas and skies. An ignorance to the world and it¡¯s wonder and mysteries. Secrets kept, minds closed. Deep, ugly, unyielding darkness.


    And then. . .


    A glimmer of light.


    It was cold, and not just that regular chill that slipped through stone walls and called for lit fireplaces or a sweater to be worn while you went about your day. It was a type of cold that cut through the clothes and grabbed the bones in an attempt to slip a slight tinge of what death might feel like under the skin. It was the type of cold people talked about over their tea and coffee in parlors along side conversations of the governor¡¯s latest quiet woman or chats about neighboring state¡¯s relationships going awry. It was cold that somehow made itself news, as if it were a foreign dignitary that had descended, unwantedly, upon the sweet and unsuspecting region of Kar


    .


    It was totally and utterly unnatural.


    As young Gil walked through the snowy streets towards the import store the cold was all he overheard the people in the streets chattering about. Nothing more interesting had left a single person¡¯s mouth since he had left to retrieve the books from Saint Wilshest¡¯s Imports, books that the young Lord had ordered from a sketchy seller on the continent across the sea.


    He agreed, at least to some point, that the cold was worth talking about but not so much so that he believed it needed to head the newspapers and be called in the town center like a crier in some dramatic comedy.


    A chill swept swiftly down the street guided by the walls of the buildings, rushing past the young man¡¯s body like a pack of wild dogs. He shuttered, grumbled, and pulled the fur lined cape closer to his body. He turned down an ally between a small bakery known for its rum bread and a florist shop that appeared to be out of business. Snow crunched between his boots and the cobble stone as he made his way towards the dimly lit and somewhat disheveled looking building at the far end of the lane.


    A bell jiggled in the shop as the heavy oak door was pushed open. Wind and snow tried to force its way in with Gil but the young man put his whole weight into the door to force it closed behind him. With a heavy thud the latch closed between the outside and the warm, if somewhat dusty haven of escape.


    ¡°It¡¯s as if the sun itself turned her back on us today!¡±


    The crackity old voice bounced the best it could off the walls of the shop, muffled by stacks of parsels and lines of books. From behind a tower of paper wrappings shuffled an elderly man. He hobbled to the counter between the door and the towering city of stacked packages that made up the rest of the small store. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°That¡¯s what people are saying,¡± Gil responded, shaking the snow from his cloak and hanging it on the rack by the door. He slipped off the leather gloves and tucked them into his pocket. He turned to face the man again as he dusted off the blue velvet of his suit jacket. ¡°You¡¯ve foregone your cane again,¡± he commented, watching the old man shuffle, unaided, to his seat behind the counter.


    The old shop-keeps unsteady walk, coupled with the unkempt hair and tattered wool suit would leave you to believe he might sleep above the shop, but a person who believed that would be easily swindled out of coin by the frail disposition of what was otherwise a perfectly sound and wealthy man. Despite his appearance, he had just as much coin lining his pockets as he had rickarack lining the walls.


    ¡°Cane¡¯s are for the elderly,¡± He responded, motioning over the young gentleman. ¡°Would you care for a cup of tea? I¡¯ve had it brought all the way from the Green Isles,¡± He reached to the gold leaf pot from the edge of the counter and poured him some of the light pink drink without concerning himself with the answer.


    Gil knew better then to pay the elderly gentleman any mind at this point. After so many errands on his master¡¯s behalf he¡¯d gotten to know the self proclaimed collector and procurer quite well. There was a sort of quaint eccentrism you learned to ignore. He took the cup of tea to warm his hands at the very least.


    ¡°So Lord Salphus has sent you on a mission in this weather? You must be quite the respectable retainer, Gilbert,¡± The keep said, lifting the cup to his lips with shaky hands.


    Gil shrugged a bit, turning the cup in his hands. The liquid was pungent and he was reluctant to try it. ¡°My Lord¡¯s whims get the best of him when it comes to books. If I were to let the order pile up simply because the weather was a bit unpleasant I¡¯d need a cart to bring them back with me come thaw.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a strong lad to consider this hellish storm just ¡®unpleasant¡¯,¡± he retorted.


    Gill shrugged yet again, as was accustomed to the apathy of boys his age. He could feel elderly eyes on his cup, taking note of the fact he hadn¡¯t tried it yet. To keep from offending Gil lifted the cup to his lips, held his breath, took a sip, and nearly gagged.


    Despite that a wry smile came to the shopkeepers thin lips and he seemed satisfied with the attempt. ¡°Well let¡¯s go see what it is he ordered this time.¡±


    The two rose from their seats, walking behind the counter and down one of the small halls created by the piled procurements. There didn¡¯t seem to be much of a rhyme or reason to the manner in which they were ordered and yet somehow the old shopkeeper knew what each wrapped box was without having to take a look.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see here¡­.let¡¯s see¡­¡± He muttered to himself as he scanned each of the parcels, looking for the order. ¡°Ahh yes...that¡¯s right,¡± He took a sharp turn around a corner almost losing his tagalong. Gil wasn¡¯t quite sure how he moved so swiftly for a man in such need of a cane.


    ¡°You should tell young Lord Salphus that he¡¯s quite lucky with this one. The package had to change hands three times to get here. With the weather so bad none of the delivery services wanted to bring it in. You can''t take a horse out in this much snow after all, and the delivery fees aren¡¯t worth a few frozen toes,¡± He said, reaching up on top of a stack in dark corner near the back door. ¡°But it found its way here nonetheless,¡± He said, taking the paper protected book and offering it to the Lord¡¯s servant.¡±Here you go, keep that one safe. The Lord got his money¡¯s worth with that one,¡± he said.


    Gilbert took the package, turning it over in his hands. It didn¡¯t look like anything special to him, but then again it might not have been. Warren had an odd taste when it came to literature, and Gil had picked up all sorts of books for him before, both prized first editions and tattered throw aways. It wasn¡¯t his place to question or, more precisely, he wouldn¡¯t have gotten an answer if he did. Warren always claimed that these items were treasures worthy of his library no matter what condition it was in.


    After having retrieved the book the pair walked back to the front of the shop. Gil collected his coat and gloves, donning the fur lined cloak and leather gloves once more. Bidding farewell to the shopkeeper the young man headed back out into the dark, snowy streets of the city, clutching the book and the edges of his cloak to his chest.

 Delivery

    The kitchen door of Cedarwake Manor seemed miles away from the gate by the time Gil made it back to the estate. He was half frozen and completely worn out from the task and just yearned for the safety of the mansion.


    It was quiet when he arrived. No men and women conducting the business of the state, no servants bustling to keep the household moving, no cooks scurrying about the kitchen to prepare dinner. Then again, with the Governor and most of his faculty gone, the only people that needed feeding were himself and the Governor''s son, Lord Warren Salphus. With the weather only getting worse as the day sank into night Gil could only guess that Warren had sent the staff home to their families. Several of the servants lived at the Manor, himself included, but the young cook and most of the maids were not counted amongst them.


    Gil pulled the cloak from his shoulders and placed it, absentmindedly, on the empty countertop and tossed his gloves to the side with the ease only someone who had grown up in the house and was used to being chastised by the housekeeper could.


    Out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and into the grand foyer, Gil moved with the blind grace of a boy who had been running the halls since he was strong enough to discover his legs could be used to get him into trouble. His Mother had been an aid of Governor Salphus, and his father was a lawman from a neighboring state. While he hadn''t always lived in the Cedarwake Manor, he was only a few years Warren''s Junior so they had been assigned playmates when he was still very young.


    Gil climbed the grand staircase that flowed from the second floor down to the entranceway like some sort of stained wood and red carpeting waterfall. The stairs were solid, well made and expensive like everything else in the manor. Gold paint trimmed the delicate details of the handrail, small flowers bloomed softly in the oak. He turned his eyes from the blood-colored floor to the top of the stairs. Most of the doors were closed. He could hear rummaging behind the large set of double doors at the end of the hall that lead to Governor Salphus''s room and study. The housekeeper and the Stewart who lived on premise must''ve been taking the Governor''s absence to get deep cleaning done.


    At the other end of the hall, a cracked door let out the light flicker of light and the soft smell of burning wood. Cresting the staircase, the retainer walked towards the beckoning light and into the young Lord''s private library, and what a library it was. Bookcase lined the room from floor to ceiling leaving only room for the windows and doors. The shelves were brimming with all manner of literature, from informative texts on nature and medicine to the brave tales of fantastical adventures, to the musings of philosophers and poets. Warren Salphus had an insatiable appetite for the written word and spent nearly all of his free time in this room. His father often worried he spent too much time caressing the spine of a book and not that of a future wife.


    The door creaked it''s welcome as Gil entered, smiling a bit at the familiarity of the scene. Amongst the piles of pages and the soft glow of the fireplace as the young lord of Cedarwake Manor. A bright-eyed young man in his early to mid-twenties, tall with the build of someone who played sport more often than he did and blond hair that often fell out of its tie and into his face. Gil had always thought of him as handsome, though he had never really put much thought into whether that was his own opinion or if he was just nodding along with the coos of the housekeeper and maids.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "I should keep this stupid text for the pain I had to endure to obtain it," Gil announced loudly, an attempt to rouse Warren''s attention. He pulled the book from underneath his arm and walked towards his friend, presenting him with the absolutely ordinary brown paper package.


    Warren''s head shot up and he locked eyes with Gil for just a moment. His seemed to sparkle with more anticipation then they did over the last bundle of tales he had brought back. Whatever was in here must''ve been more exciting than the compiled histories of Ocular fungal Meningilia.


    "Gil Greaves you are a hero amongst men!" He proclaimed as he leapt from his seat and took the book that was offered to him. He swiftly strode to the door, closing it and locking it. The key was in the breast pocket of his silk vest before Gil even had a moment to register the fact that Warren had locked a door he''d never seen a key to.


    "I''d like to know just what it is that is in there that you made me go out in that forsaken snow storm for," Gil asked, following Warren over to his desk at the far end of the room. Perhaps it was a particularly expensive first edition after all the shopkeeper had seemed to mention this parcel was special compared to the others. Even if it was expensive he was quite certain that the maids would nick the silverware or the gold-hilted sconces before she nicked a book.


    "Come here Gil, and keep your voice low," He said, ushering his companion to his side. "This, my friend, is the finest piece my collection will ever see," He said softly, untying the string that wrapped the package with the same sort of delicacy Gil imagined one might untie the laces of a lady''s corset. He noted that Warren''s hands were trembling, which just caused a moment of confusion to flood his mind. However, the confusion for the trembling was quickly replaced with confusion for what was in the package.


    As the parchment was peeled back all that was unveiled was the plain cover of a completely humdrum, run-of-the-mill leather bound journal. The leather didn''t even seem particularly exceptional. It was beaten brown bindings just like you might find in the bag of anyone who was walking about the streets.


    Gil began to wonder if Warren understood that there was nothing particularly interesting about the book in his hands. He cocked his head a bit in an attempt to catch Warren''s eye, but it didn''t work. The young Lord was captivated by the book.


    "What''s so extraordinary about this? It just looks like your average day Journal," Gil said, going to grab the book from him but, the tease was stopped before it could even begin.


    Warren snatched Gil''s wrist before his fingers had a chance to brush the cover of the book. Gil was a little caught off guard with the suddenness and severity of being grabbed like that.


    "You don''t understand," Warren pushed, slipping his grasp from Gil''s wrist to his hand. He pulled the two of them farther from the door, practically against one of the shelves as he opened the opened the book.


    The pages looked like they were adorned with handwritten scribbles, illegible to even a well-versed scholar, or at least Gil had to assume. "I don''t understand, what language is that? Is it from the Green Isles? Irmous?" he asked. He knew that Warren had learned to read in several languages, one or two even that wasn''t common to their continent, but this didn''t even look like it could have been from the Far Western Mountain Region.


    "No, it''s much rarer than that! So rare only a handful in the world know how to read and interpret it. No, these writings are more than just a language. These writings speak the mysteries and the truths of our world. It''s the breaths of the trees and the songs of the bird and the great roars of the ocean. No, my dear friend. This is not just a language. This¡­.is a book written in Theban," he said.


    Gil felt the chill pierce his flesh again as the word cut through him like the wind outside. He shivered, looking down at the book again. Theban. . . The language of the forbidden. Gil felt his heartbeat in his ears and his blood fall to his feet as if it too were trying to escape the reality of what he''d just heard. "T-theban?" he repeated out loud.

 Deilvery Pt. 2

    Deilvery Pt. 2


    "Theban! The language of the Wit-"


    Warren yanked Gil close to him and clasped a hand tightly over Gil''s mouth, muffling the shout from him. There was a moment where Gil was pressed so tightly to the young Lord''s chest he could feel him hold his breath. His own heart pounded in his ear. Once, twice, three times. Long beats like a drum at the climax of a play, announcing the coming danger for the heroes.


    Luckily, that Danger never came. The housekeeper and Stewart were too far down the hall to hear Gil''s surprised shouts. It was for the best too, the young men''s fear did not come unwarranted. Possessing books written in Theban was a capital offense. It was a crime not even the son of the state''s governor could escape.


    Warren finally loosened his grip on Gil but had to quickly find his hold again when he felt his companion slip towards the ground instead of regaining his composure on his own two feet.


    "Do not lose track of your voice again. A manor home is known for the attentiveness of its caretakers," Warren warned, though he kept his arm around Gil''s waist to keep him from collapsing.


    Gil stared at him, open-mouthed for a moment. In all the years of his life, he would''ve never thought that this man with such a bookish disposition would do something as stupid, as foolishly reckless, as seek out text like this. He had never guessed that there would be danger in the hobby of book collecting.


    "Warren. . ." His voice was still shaky. "You know what that is. . . it''s a spell book, the personal writings of a Witch! Forbidden knowledge! You''re treading on the grounds of the divine!" he exclaimed in as soft a whisper as he could muster at this point.


    "Listen to yourself Gil, forbidden knowledge? The divine?" He scoffed, flipping through a few pages of the journal. "There should be no such thing as forbidden knowledge. If Cors is so divine and powerful do you really think that he''d just allow us to discover truths we shouldn''t be able to learn? Don''t you think he''d strike down those reckless fools instead of letting them write it down in a book?" he asked.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "You''re the reckless fool!" Gil snapped again. "What you''re saying is blasphemy, and what you''re holding is taboo!"


    He took his Master''s hands as they held the book. "Please, you still have a chance, throw it into the fireplace, no one will ever know that you had it. Please!" He begged. Warren''s grip tightened around the book, and his gaze grew more steely than Gil could ever remember seeing it.


    "Gilbert."


    His full name sounded as foreign as the writings of that book when it was spoken by Warren.


    "You have a choice before you it seems," Warren said. He''d never sounded so much like a Lord when he spoke to him in private.


    The choice didn''t need to be said aloud. Gil knew what he meant. By confessing the existence of the book, Gil risked sentencing Warren to the hangman''s noose for heresy. By keeping quiet Gil made himself an accomplice to his Master''s explorations into the forbidden. There would be no leniency for a man''s servant who willingly turned a blind eye to the defiance of the Divine.


    Gil felt his heart beat in his chest like a drum. Once, twice, three times.


    He took a few steps back before sinking into the couch behind him, wishing he could fold up and disappear between its cracks. "At least¡­.tell me what it says. That way I can not blame you if I am punished for these trespasses. If I hold those forbidden words as well then these transgressions are mine as well," He said, his eyes locked on the floor beneath is feet. The carpet swirled and swayed like the waves of a pond after a rock is chucked unceremoniously into its waters.


    Those waters were interrupted as his gaze was lifted to meet Warren''s. He smiled at him, comfortingly, a warmth that felt misguided and out of place in the turmoil of the moment. Warren began to read. He gave Gil no moment to ponder how it was he knew the words of a language he had no right to speak.


    "To those who turn, in this moment of lost hope, to the heavens for the answers to the troubled fate that has mounted against them. Do not beseech those who do not have ears to listen for help to guide you through the dense forest and the troubled ocean, but look amongst these pages for the songs of the trees and the waves. For only through understanding how each breath of the earth stirs each strike of lightning will you learn the language of the sky and the sea. Then, and only then, with the knowledge of the very existence of life will you be able to move through the darkness with absolute certainty.


    This is the Grimoire of Edwina Eudora Rowena Rose. My this book be your match with which you create your spark."

 Kindling

    Kindling


    Gil sat sideways in the plush chair, his legs kicked up on the arm, ankles crossed over each other as he leaned back to examine the pattern of the paint swirls on the ceiling.


    "You should throw a Garden Party, " He said, turning his gaze from the ceiling to his friend. For the past few weeks Warren had spent every waking moment he had (and a few he didn''t) pouring over that Journal. He took meticulous notes, muttered to himself frequently, and over all was turning himself into a proper shut in.


    "It''s still too cold for a garden party, not to mention nothing''s bloomed yet. It would just be a lot of people dressed up nice to stand in the cold amongst some dead trees," He retorted. His eyes never left the paper.


    "Well, hold it in the parlor," Gil responded.


    "Then it wouldn''t be a garden party."


    Gil frowned a little, swinging his feet forward and righting himself in the arm chair. He stood up, walking over to Warren and placing his hands on his shoulders as he looked over him to the notes he was taking. Something about the flow of water moving with the breath. Warren frequently tried to explain what he learned to him, but it was like a scholar speaking to an adolescent. Everything was just a little too dense to be comprehended. Even though the words were in the common tongue he might as well be transforming Theban into a spoken language. Warren, however, seemed to be soaking it in like it were as natural as a chat over lunch. He was almost jealous of it. Gil was holding all of the risk without reaping any of the reward.


    "Warren, people are starting to talk. You''re spending too much time in here. You''ve shirked your duties, you''re not going to any social events, Your other friends are starting to suspect you''ve gone mad," He said. "Which I suppose would be preferable to the truth," He added, letting his hands slide to the side and sitting against the edge of the writing desk.


    Warren finally set down his pen, turning in the chair to face Gil. The younger man could tell that Warren was looking for a sort of retort in an attempt to give himself a proper opportunity to prove that he had not, in fact, holed himself up to focus on the Shadow sciences, but the more he searched the for one the harder it came to deny the truth. People were going to become suspicious.


    "I suppose I could feign a slight illness" he said, finally closing the journal. Gil felt like someone had picked a sack of flour off his his chest and he could breathe a little easier. A small smile came to his lips.


    "It wouldn''t be improbable. After that storm quite a few people found themselves in bed with a chill," Gil mused, leaning forward a bit to watch Warren collect his notes. His hands seemed paler after all, though his servant knew the ghosting of his skin was more likely do to his new found habit to forgo supper and sleep in favor of this unhealthy study.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "Then, with that settled, the next step would be to find a party where I could make my wonderful and miraculous recovery from the clutches of death!" He laughed, leaning backwards and holding his hand to his forehead in a feign. "For I was too young and too charming for death to whisk away from this world. The heaven''s, in all their glory, saw it fit for my presence to grace these good people for just a while longer," he mocked in lament.


    If Gil had rolled his eyes any harder he might have pulled a muscle. "My world would be a right bit less stressful if you had actually been in bed ill," he snipped, standing up so that Warren could collect the rest of his notes.


    A chuckle escaped him as he slipped the journal and the notes beneath the false bottom of his desk drawer and locked it, slipping the key into it''s comfortable resting place inside his breast pocket. The spot where a normal man might keep a handkerchief or a pocket watch instead of the key to what could be his death in writing.


    "Come then, I suppose I should make myself known again, lest my father fear I''ve disappeared to the forest to live the life of a hermit."


    Warren seized the coat that hung on the back of his chair, slipping it on with a smooth flick and giving it a soft tug into place. Fingers ran through his hair to brush it from his face and, only haphazardly, back against his head where it belong. Gil watched him lazily. It was a motion that he had done for many a year, probably to the point where Warren wasn''t aware he did it. Though as his slender hands pushed the hair from his face something caught Gil''s eye. Right on his neck, bellow his jaw, was a small mark that he had never noticed before. A small beauty mark. Was Gil simply paying his Master''s neck more mind then he had before. . . Or had that mark always been there?


    The two men found their ways out of the library. The sun shining through the picture windows and illuminating the house almost seemed alien after so many long days in the library with the curtains drawn. Light flickered and bounced off the glass vases set on small green and gold stands scattered along the hall, casting flickering outlines of the winter flowers and the water in which they sat.


    With long, confident strides Warren made his way down the hall and to the foyer. The great chandelier that hung from the ceiling glistened like the snow that still lightly dusted the lawn outside the windows. Young maids and house men scurried about tidying and dusting for the turning of the seasons that would be happening soon.


    Unfortunately, the thoughts were cut short once they rounded the corner to the top of the stairs and caught glimpse of the housekeeper speaking to a group of men in the hall. None of them looked familiar. They weren''t local, that was for sure. Most of them were scruffy, unkempt men. Definitely too rough to be from the Region of Kar. Their state was wealthy, and even those who were not fortunate enough to live in the laps of velvet and gold still weren''t generally this brutish type.


    In front of the motley lot stood several far more distinguishable men. The simple white and yellow robes, slicked hair, and small sun pendants that hang from their necks spoke of their origins. These were men of the Temple, priests perhaps. Wait. . . Priests!

 Kindling Pt. 2

    Kindling Pt. 2


    Gil''s eyes shot to Warren as he felt his breath quicken in a coming panic. He tried to calm himself but no matter how hard he tried the air refused to refresh his lungs. He found the young Lord''s arm, squeezing harder than he had intended too. Warren, how ever, did not seem to blink. He held his head high with the dignity of an official of his stature. "Calm yourself, This is not unusual. Members of the Temple visit from time to time. This is routine," He affirmed. Gil''s nerves were not quelled. The Housekeeper, who was generally a pleasant if not mildly over attentive woman, seemed flustered by the sudden appearance of the mismatched group. They had not announced themselves, they had just shown up. This could not be good.


    Warren strode forward, and descended the staircase, Gil on his coattails.


    "Gentlemen, is there some way I might be of assistance," He inquired in a steady voice that''s baratons carried themselves easily across the wooden floors. As if someone had given them a countdown, all the men''s attention turned up to the young Lord Salphus in what almost seemed a practiced pace.


    "Please forgive Miss Windsworth, she''s not fond of unannounced guests, especially not on a day when there is so much cleaning and rearranging being done for the spring." Warren was letting them know that he was aware they were uninvited. An unfortunate slight on what was otherwise a relatively good natured young man.


    From the gaggle of priests one separated himself. He was average in every manner of the word. Heigh, weight, features. Hair and eyes all a dusty, unintrusive brown. If asked the number of people in a crowd, a person might not even remember to count him. "Are you Governor Salphus?" he inquired, inspecting Warren as he found his way down the stairs and to the entrance hall. Gil stayed three steps from the bottom.


    "I am his son, activating assistant Governor, Warren Salphus," he asserted in response. Once again the average priests eyes assessed the man before him. A mouse would''ve had an easier time intimidating a mountain.


    After a moment of locked presences the man who seemed to be speaking on behalf of the group extended his hand and relaxed his posture. "I do apologize for the sudden intrusion, but it is normally expected that we make ourselves known upon entering a city. We are the here on behalf of the central Temple of Cors, In Kingswallow."


    "Kingswallow you say," Lord Salphus repeated with what could only be described as completely and utterly lacking in amusement. He reached out, shaking the priests hand. An absolutely forgettable handshake.


    Gil watched the two from a few paces back. His heart felt as though it was going to leave his chest to rest on the outside of his coat along side the silver chain of his watch. His palms felt sweaty and the tie of his silk cravat felt all to0 close to what he imagined a noose would. Yet somehow Warren hadn''t flinched in the presence of the few people in the city how could have his life with no trial. One day he was going to make an absolutely magnificent governor.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "Now if I may," Warren said with an abrupt transition. "Not that I am upset with the presence of the fine men of Cors flock, but what spurs the sudden appearance of the clergy in our fair state?" He asked.


    "Ahh yes, the matter at hand," the ordinary priest said, once again speaking for the group. "We are sent here on the information of what could possibly be the forbidden arts at play."


    Warren wrinkled his brow as if he had no idea what they could have possibly been insinuating. "Forbidden arts? Forgive me Sir but I must say I''m not as well versed in the vernacular of the Temple as I fear I should be."


    "We are here on the rumor that there may be those who defy the privileges of the gods amongst your cities people."


    "Defy holy privilege? Sir, are you trying to tell me you have cause to believe that there are witches in my city?!" His voice grew a bit, anger touching softly at the edge of the words as his act shifted his posture.


    "I understand your Ire Lord Salphus, but do not fret. Witches are daring creatures with the will and the gall to tread the path meant only for god," he nodded along.


    "What rumors have you heard then? What brings you to the city?" Warren asked, though his tone spoke more of a demand, as any leader of state would. It was the safety of his citizens at risk if there were others willfully abandoning their morals in favor of a sense of superior knowledge.


    "A storm, a few weeks back. Im sure you recall." How could you not, it was all the city spoke of for a fortnight. "An unnatural storm we are lead to believe was the guile of a Coven, a gathering of witches," the priest explained.


    The surprise on Lord Salphus''s face was quite genuine now. "The storm?" he asked. "How is it possible that a single human could have created such a powerful act of nature, and why? To what avail?" he asked.


    "No, not a single. No single witch is strong enough to move the clouds and the wind like that. A coven, however. A Coven, well trained and willing enough, could wretch the reigns of such a storm from heaven and steer it to their will. For what reasons though, we do not know. That is why we are here," The priest explained. "We will cause your people no unrest, we promise, we will just conduct our investigation to see if this coven lives within the borders of your lovely state."


    Warren couldn''t deny them. The Temple acted outside of jurisdiction of any single governor and on this continent could go, quite frankly, anywhere they pleased. This introduction was for Governor Salphus''s sake, not their own. They expected not only free passage to move about the city, but pleasantries and cooperation as well. Warren had to agree.


    "Then I have no choice but to allow your investigation access to Kar, Sir," Warren relented.


    "Please, call me Rudolph," he said, extending his hand once again to the assistant Governor of the region. "I look forward to our time together, and I will pray that these smug cretins have left your city and state in peace."


    Warren once again grasped his hand for a shake. This time the unremarkable of it brought a bit of sweat to the nape of his neck. Now Warren understood why someone so unimpressive was leading this group of inquisitors. A man this forgettable was dangerous when he was forgotten.

 Lemon Cake

    Lemon Cake


    "Witches!"


    The Governor of Kar was a stout man in his mid-forties. Broad shoulders, strong build, hair that may have been grey now but was thick enough that he still needed to tie it back at the base of his neck like younger men did. He had a temper, though not with the citizens. No good governor kept his position by being hard to handle or difficult to reach. In the manor, however, he forwent his otherwise logical demeanor to let his every feeling and thought fly through the house like a plate whipped across the hall by an angry dish-maid.


    "Some no name, bleach collared bastard has the nerve to prance into my city like the goddamn pied piper of the Temple and accuse us of harboring Witches!"


    He slammed a now emptied crystal whiskey tumbler to the table in front of him. The colorful dinner conversation roused reactions from neither his son nor Gil. Governor Benedict Salphus could bolster himself with just about as much hot air as a weatherman could a surveying balloon, and his anger wasn''t directed at them.


    "He didn''t use those words, Father," Warren said, sticking a small, roasted potato with the end of his fork.


    "He didn''t have to say those words! We all know he sure as hell meant them!" He thundered. A particularly startled maid shuffled into the room to place a fresh decanter on the table for the men. "Thank you, Love," He grumbled over the sound of his own bellyaching. Gil always felt bad for them when they were new. The Housekeeper and the Stewart were too concerned with their job to warn them that, in most cases, the Governor was just about as dangerous as a hungry house cat to his own people.


    "They''ll move on as soon as they discover there''s nothing to warrant their time or money here," Warren assured his father.


    "Unless they are packing up their suns and prodding sticks right now then they''ve already been here too long!" He snapped, spearing a helpless piece of roast pork. "I want you checking up on them, Warren. It''s your duty to make sure that our people feel safe, and I won''t have these "priests" make them feel like they are suspect in their own homes." He seemed to use to term priest loosely here.


    "Of course, Father," Warren agreed obediently.


    Gil was less than enthused by the idea of having more interactions with those men. He was hoping to keep as much space between them and himself as possible, but it seemed that ever since Warren had opened that blasphemous book nothing had gone his way. Maybe that was the magick of it all. That he had been cursed with bad luck for the rest of his pointless and miserable little life.


    "You seem distracted Gilbert," the Governor said, setting his fork down to refill his glass.


    Gil''s eyes tore away from his plate to meet the steady gaze of the far too drunk to be this observant governor. He searched the room for an excuse since admitting that he and his companion were the ones harboring the secrets of the witch wasn''t a viable deterrent.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Ahh, that''s right, forgive me I''ve forgotten. It''s about that time of year, isn''t it?" the Governor asked, answering his own question. He leaned back in his seat, setting his glass down. "It was only a few years ago, it must still be fresh," he said.


    Gil felt a soft tug at his heartstrings as his mood swam softly to the bottom of the recesses of his memory. He''d forgotten as well. His mother had died two years ago near the equinox. He still had the letter that had brought him word of her passing folded up in the bottom of a box he kept tucked at the back of his bookshelf. Still covered in small water stains, edges rumpled and worn away from the constant folding and unfolding of the letter, hoping that he''d find a new message every time.


    Lydia Greaves had passed away in the spring from a bought of black lung that hadn''t escaped her with the thaw. Gil already hadn''t seen her in several years because she moved to his father''s home state near the sea. His father, the weak man he was, broke under the weight of her casket and escaped across the ocean to the Green Isles with a woman who poured beer at the tavern three blocks from their home.


    Young Gilbert had fallen silent and a dark storm had moved across his face. His eyes were fixated on the plate before him.


    Warren''s lips turned down in a soft frown as he put his hand gently on his friend''s shoulder, but Gilbert shuttered and pulled away. Warren knew how close to his mother he had been and knew how harshly the memory of her absence hurt him. It was probably too much to hope that in the chaos of everything that was happening, he might forget what time of year it was.


    Thanks to the governors poorly voiced observation, the dinner fell silent and it didn''t take long for Gilbert to excuse himself from the room. He left like a ghost, eyes fixated on the patterns of the carpet and the swirls of the hardwood beneath it as he made his way towards his room. On the top floor at the end of the hall was his room. It wasn''t as large as the young Master of the House''s was, but it was still a beautiful room. He''d been so excited when he first came to the manor to live alongside his companion, but now it seemed to hold nothing but miserably precious memories.


    He didn''t realize that he''d sunken into the recesses of the couch in front of the small fireplace until he had to sit up at the sound of a knock on his door. Before Gilbert could bid him entry, Warren opened the door. He never did bother to wait. Then again, it was his house.


    "You know how mad Mrs. Dotty will be if you skip out on her dessert," Warren said with a soft smile as he set down some tea and a small slice of cake on the table before seating himself besides Gil.


    Gil felt a bit of relief when he felt Warren''s presence beside him, but that was quickly replaced by guilt. "I don''t really feel like sweets at the moment," He muttered.


    "And I don''t really feel like getting an ear full from the cook about wastefulness," He said, holding the plate towards Gil, but he wouldn''t take it.


    Warren sighed, setting the plate to the side and placing his hand on Gilbert''s knee. He leaned forward a bit to catch the poor boy''s downcast eyes. He wanted to say something, but he couldn''t find words that hadn''t already been said over the last couple of years. So instead, he just gently squeezed Gilbert''s knee. "How about a story then, I''ll read to you," he offered with a bit of a laugh and a small grin.


    "I''m not a child anymore," Gilbert said in retort.


    "I never said you were," Warren said right back, standing up. "What''s the point of having a library filled with stories of daring adventure if they can''t be useful in moments like this," He said. "I''ll be right back, I know just the one," he added with a grin. Once Warren had made up his mind on something it was near impossible to stop him. It was like trying to stop the summer breeze. It was going to go where it fancied.


    "Warren," Gil called to him as he made his way to the door. "You''re not going to stop me," Warren replied. Finally, a soft smile broke at the corner of Gil''s lips.


    "Thank You."

 Chess Board

    Chapter 4: Chess Board


    The weather was starting to warm. It was almost bearable to be outside these days. Kar was in the northern part of the Empire so winter liked to cling to the state and linger like a desperate illness.


    The city had started to catch wind of the men from the Temple wandering around the state. It had only been several weeks since their arrival and yet, somehow, they had already crept back towards the capital, pulling away from the rest of the state. When Gilbert caught news they were back in town he had gotten nervous, but Warren seemed calm as ever.


    Warren finally stopped neglecting his proper duties as the assistant Governor. Thanks to his lackadaisical attitude the past month or so Warren had been forced to dive into his work to make up for the lost time. That meant that Gilbert spent most of his time running to and fro on behalf of his master. At least as Warren had gotten older he''d turned into a diligent young man and no longer required the constant nagging from Gil to get work done.


    It was a particularly busy day for Warren. His father had left with one of his advisors to visit a neighboring Governor to deal with some strife that had popped up on their borders between two towns of farmers, leaving Warren temporarily in charge of all local affairs. Since they do say that trouble often comes in pairs, Warren found himself dealing with a smuggler in their port not long after his father had left.


    Gilbert had just arrived from the port inspectors office with the official report of what had been smuggled in. Illegal arms had been shipped in at the bottom of several boxes of imported fruit.


    The servant opened the door to the study and brought the papers over to Warren. "What did the inspector say?" He asked, his eyes still glued to the document in front of him. "It seemed like a rather small batch. Much too small to be a part of a large operation. He suspects it was probably a one time attempt," He said as he placed the small report on the desk.


    Warren sat back, frowning a bit. It didn''t really add up to him, but he didn''t have the authority to involve a bigger investigation. "This is going to have to wait until Father returns¡­" he muttered to himself. Pushing away from the desk like a man freeing himself from chains he stretched a bit. "I need to take a break, I feel like I''m going to melt into that desk," he said, grabbing the coat that was draped over the back of the chair. "Let''s go into town for a bit," he said, making his way towards the door.


    "Into town?" Gil asked, following behind him. "I just came back from town. You couldn''t have made this decision before I had to deal with the port inspector on my own?" He asked with a frown. The port inspector was a harsh and crude man who seemed to take an instant disliking to Gil simply because he worked for Warren and not Governor Salphus himself.


    "You know Gil, I''ve always been so grateful for what a studious and dependable aid you''ve been," Warren said with a small grin.


    "Don''t try and flatter me," Gilbert grumbled back, following him out of the study.


    *____*


    The two of them arrived in the city just a short while later. It was still cold, but the wind no longer whipped across the skin, turning it raw if you were outside too long. The snow had nearly melted, pathing the way for people to once again take to the streets of the fine capital city. With how bad the weather had been this winter, some shops were forced to close their doors entirely for a few weeks. It was nice to see them open and the city thriving again.


    Gil had been hoping they''d be able to visit the fine goods store and see if they had his favorite coffee in, but it seemed that Warren was already on a mission. He should''ve known better. Wanting to go into the city meant wanting to see about a new book. If it weren''t so quaint, his master''s love for books would be a borderline unsettlingly obsession.


    The cobblestone clicked beneath their feet as Warren strode confidently...right past the ally the specialty import shop was at the end of. Maybe he was wrong. That would be a first.


    "Where are we headed?" Gilbert asked trotting a bit to catch up to Warren. He was older and taller and his strides were longer, so when he walked at such a determined pace sometimes it was hard for Gil to match it. "There''s a new Cafe at the end of the street I''ve been wanting to try."


    "A Cafe?" Gilbert asked curiously. Warren had never been particularly fond of such places, it was a bit odd to see him suddenly interested in one. It sounded quite nice though. The two of them hadn''t enjoyed a quiet outing together in what felt like a while. Gilbert smiled to himself at the thought of such a relaxing and enjoyable afternoon. Despite how much time he spent around Warren, his company was always so refreshing.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    As they reached the end of the street, Gilbert could see the little red brick building sandwiched between a women''s boutique and what looked like some sort of firm. The smell of freshly baked bread and brewed teas pleasantly flirted with each other as they got closer. However, with their approach a man at one of the outside tables stood, walking over to greet them. He was an attractive man, well dressed with delicate features. He was the type women swooned for when he merely passed. Gilbert almost tripped over the discovery of this unnecessary third wheel.


    "Lord Salphus," The man said, walking over to Warren to shake his hand. "What a pleasure to finally meet you in person," He said. His voice was crisp and clear, pleasant to hear, and he smiled and moved with natural charm.


    "Lord Ross, I hope I wasn''t too late." Warren grasped his hand firmly in return. "It''s a pleasure to meet you as well," He said turning to Gilbert who was never very good at hiding his displeasure with a situation. "This is my Aid, Gilbert Greaves," He said. Gil was quite often introduced to people, especially other Lords and Officials as Lord Warren Salphus''s Aid, but this time hearing it annoyed him a bit.


    "It''s nice to meet you as well, I''m Lord Edwin Ross," he said, offering his hand to Gilbert who shook it with all the fervor of a dying man. "Gilbert," he said in return. Both men politely ignored the servant''s prickly attitude.


    "Well let''s not stand around, come have a seat, I''ll order some more tea," he offered. Warren sat across from the other Lord and Gil sat by his side.


    "So is this your first time in Kar?" Warren asked. He spoke in a casual and natural manner as if the two of them had already formed some sort of friendship, but they had clearly both said this was their first time meeting in person. Gilbert had worked beside Warren long enough that he was quite aware of most of the Lords and Governors from surrounding states and even some of the farther ones, yet Lord Ross didn''t ring a bell. Was it possible he was from one of the Empire''s newly acquired Kingdoms and not from the Central States?


    Lord Ross paid Gilbert little mind and nodded in response. "It is not, but it is the first time in a while. Things have changed quite a bit since the last time I was here," he said. "Well, I hope you didn''t simply travel all this way to meet me. I don''t believe I''m a man worth making that sort of trek for," Warren said with a small laugh, leaning back in his seat a bit.


    Something changed in Lord Ross''s smile in response to that comment. Gilbert wasn''t quite sure what it was, but it made him wary of the man. "To the contrary! My Mistress and I believe quite the opposite," He said. "But I''ll take your humility as a good sign that our faith is not misplaced," he said. "In fact, I came here to bring you a special delivery on her behalf," he said, reaching into his coat. The sweetness of his words coupled with the slyness of his tone made Gilbert worry that he was going to pull a knife on Warren, but those fears were silenced for the moment when he produced a small parcel, wrapped in a dark blue cloth.


    Warren took the item, a familiar feeling in his hands as he unwrapped it a bit to see the corner of a book. "I suggest you not open that here," Lord Ross warned with a small nod. Warren peeled back the cloth just a bit more, before once again wrapping it. "Tell your Mistress I am incredibly grateful for her generous gift," He said, sliding the package away before Gilbert was able to see exactly what it was. Though despite not catching a good look at it, he had a haunting suspicion that it wasn''t a thrilling novel.


    Lord Ross nodded in approval to Warren''s acceptance of the gift. "So I hear that the Governor is out of town to deal with a scuffle around the border? " he asked.


    "You must be quite astute to already be aware of that," Warren said, though he was cautious with his words, they weren''t necessarily guarded. To Gilbert, it sounded like he wasn''t all that surprised to know that this Lord Ross kept a close ear to the ground.


    "I like to be aware of the movements of important pieces," He said, much more nonchalantly then someone should''ve when referring to the ruler of a state as a game piece. He relaxed in his chair and took a sip of his coffee as if this were just an average kind of conversation for him.


    Gil''s eyes followed the conversation moving between the two men as they spoke. It was painfully obvious that something deeper was going on in this conversation, but they spoke with the secrecy akin to that of men who believed their lives hung on the careful selection of their words. The more they spoke of the conflict on the border and the inner workings of the city the more Gilbert grew uncomfortable. It only took one more question for the quiet servant to become unsettlingly aware of just why their conversation sounded so roundabout.


    "And the Temple men, they''ve made their way back into the capital this morning, haven''t they?" Lord Ross asked, setting his cup down and catching Warren''s eyes. Gilbert shivered at the intensity of the look. A look that could''ve stopped the winter storms in their tracks.


    Warren never flinched. "I believe they have, but their movements are something you would be more aware of than I, isn''t that correct?" he asked, his pointed response piercing through that intense look. There was a small bit of surprise that rippled across his face, but he quickly drew it back in before leaning forward and smiling a bit. He seemed to concede defeat in their verbal game of chess. "I suppose you are correct, Lord Salphus," He said. "In that case though, I do urge you to be careful. Even rats bite when they feel they''ve been cornered," he said, standing from his seat.


    "And you feel they''ve been cornered?" Warren asked.


    Lord Ross smiled at them one more time. "Oh, I do."

 Bitter Tea

    Gilbert could do nothing but watch as Lord Ross excused himself from the table and made his way down the street, disappearing amongst the crowd in a matter of mere moments.


    He reluctantly turned to face Warren. It felt like they¡¯d just sat down at a table with some sort of panther. ¡°What was that all about?¡± He asked, picking up the cup of tea that sat in front of him. He¡¯d forgotten it was there.


    Warren sat back in his chair and leaned his head onto his hand, taking a moment to contemplate. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not quite sure¡­but I think it was a test,¡± he muttered to himself, looking past Gil, staring at the distant nothing as his mind used the focal point as an excuse to wander away from the table and follow Lord Ross.


    ¡°But do you know who he was? It seemed like the two of you knew each other quite well,¡± Gil insisted. He felt the need to pry now. It felt as though Warren was putting up a purposeful barrier between the two of them.


    ¡°We¡¯ve written each other over the past few months, though I believe he probably knows quite a bit more about me then I know about him,¡± he muttered, his eyes retracing the man¡¯s retreat over and over again, locked on the cobblestones and the crowds ahead, searching for something in the cracks in the street.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m asking!¡± Gil insisted. ¡°Do you know who he is?¡± He repeated.


    ¡°You mean do I know what he is?¡± Warren asked, his eyes finally breaking away and turning to his companion. They held a certain intensity that Gilbert couldn¡¯t recall having seen before, especially not directed at him. It startled him a bit, and he, in turn, directed his gaze downwards.


    ¡°I had my suspicions,¡± He said. ¡°He¡¯s never come out and directly said it, but I believe he just got as close to admitting it to an outsider as he ever will. That¡¯s why we met in public, and I brought you with me. I knew he¡¯d be more cautious if I did so, and in that case, he¡¯d be less likely to do something.¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You brought me with you as some sort of shield?!¡± Gil snapped, raising his voice just enough that it drew the young Lord¡¯s Ire. ¡°You forget yourself, Gilbert,¡± he said in response.


    Such cold, harsh words only worked to upset Gilbert more. He was so tired of these flippant answers to such a dangerous situation. How could a man have so little care when playing with an open flame inside a house of straw. It was as if this absurd and irrational search to hold knowledge had caused him to completely forsake his better senses. He didn¡¯t care about the consequences. He didn¡¯t care that he could get his whole family tried, that he could get Gil hung as an accomplice! That...That he himself would suffer a fate worse than death at the hands of the Temple in an attempt to root out others.


    Gil¡¯s emotions got the better of him. He took a sharp breath, biting his lower lip to keep himself from saying something he¡¯d regret even more. He stood, pushing the chair back as he did so.


    Warren sat up straighter. ¡°Where are you going?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I have other duties to perform for the household before I retire tonight.¡± The formality from him struck Warren like a lashing across the back and brought him back to his senses. He suddenly became acutely aware of his attitude.  ¡°Gil,¡± he said, catching the younger man¡¯s hand before he had a chance to leave. Warren wanted to apologize. He¡¯d gotten lost in thought and said something he shouldn¡¯t have, he knew that. But it didn¡¯t quite matter at this moment what he¡¯d wanted to do. Gil pulled his hand free of Warren¡¯s. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, My Lord,¡± he said, before swiftly turning his back to the young assistant Governor and making his way towards the Manor home.


    His title had never tasted so bitter or sounded so coarse. From Gil¡¯s lips, it was the deepest cutting insult he¡¯d ever heard. Warren wanted to be upset for being spoken to that way, but he knew he couldn¡¯t. He knew the depths of Gil¡¯s compassion and loyalty, and he¡¯d taken advantage of it.


    A groan escaped him as he pushed his hands to his face, trying to rub away the shame of his actions. He felt a sinking in his heart he hadn¡¯t felt in a long time, a feeling that only found him when his closet companion was truly, deeply upset. The worst part was that he had been the cause of unpleasant feeling now and deserved to feel it.


    He paid for the meal and left the small Cafe. He didn¡¯t want to return back home quite yet, so he wondered amongst the people and the paths for a bit. When he was sure that no one was paying him any mind, he pulled the book that had been gifted to him out from his coat, unwrapping the cloth around it until a few theban letters poked out across the leather binding. He ran his finger across those letters, muttering unintelligible nonsense to himself.

 Bitter Tea Bonus

    Night draped over the room like the most luxurious silk cover. A few candles lit, casting dancing flames across the room as the door handle turned. The delicate outlines of fine furniture swam in the comforting shadows.


    There was a rustle, movement under the covers when the door creaked open. A woman sat up in the bed, her long dark hair tumbling down her shoulders as she did. Her eyes still bright amongst the darkness.


    A smirk flashed across the face of the man who had entered the room as he made his way towards the woman. ¡°Stunning,¡± He said, reaching out to take a small lock of her hair, turning it over between his fingers.


    The woman was neither surprised nor moved by his actions. She leaned back against the headboard of the bed, turning her head just enough so that she could keep watch of  him with tired eyes. ¡°You¡¯re back much later than I anticipated. Did you run into trouble?¡± She asked him.


    ¡°Nothing I couldn¡¯t handle,¡± He assured her, letting her hair slip from his hand as he walked towards the dresser. He pulled a few rings from his fingers and a pocket watch from his coat pocket, setting them on the small oak tray.


    ¡°And your trip?¡± She asked, covering her mouth as she yawned a bit.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°Fruitful,¡± he assured her, pulling the jacket from his shoulders and setting it aside. ¡°His interest is genuine. There¡¯s no mal intent in his search. As always, you were ever wise, giving him Rowena¡¯s book. They share the same hunger for understanding. I¡¯m sure her words and studies sang perfectly to him,¡± He said, pulling the silk tie loose of his neck.  ¡°He doesn¡¯t seem to have yet made use of the knowledge though. I¡¯m sure he will soon but. . .¡± He trailed off a bit as he began unbuttoning his shirt.


    ¡°You sound less then certain,¡± The woman said.


    ¡°There¡¯s a companion of his. He is very obviously aware of the knowledge inside the book, but he¡¯s about as pleased at the idea as a rich man is of a beggar,¡± He commented.


    ¡°And he will not forsake the companion?¡±


    ¡°Mmm, no, I¡¯m afraid that doesn¡¯t seem so. There¡¯s something deeper to the two than simply a Lord and his servant. I suspect that unless the boy is willing to open his eyes as well, we might as well toss aside the Lord,¡± He said.


    The woman leaned her head back and closed her eyes. ¡°We will not,¡± She said firmly. ¡°He has chosen his path, and we do not turn our backs on brothers and sisters who have opened their eyes and taken their first steps. We must show the other that we are not his enemy, nor are we the enemy of his Lord,¡± She said to him.


    The man grabbed her hand. ¡°Why do you close your eyes?¡± He asked, pulling her hand to his chest, forgoing the conversation. The woman huffed a bit. ¡°Are you listening to me?¡± She asked. The answer was an obvious no as he pulled her hand between the folds of his shirt and against his heart.  ¡°Everything I am is thanks to you. Won¡¯t you open your eyes and enjoy what you¡¯ve created?¡± He asked.


    The woman let out a small sigh, opening her eyes and looking up at him. With the candle¡¯s too his back it was difficult to see his face. ¡°Edwin I am tired, and you have work to do now,¡± She said.


    She couldn¡¯t see his expression, but she knew he was not going to let such a simple comment stop him. He leaned towards her, a knee on the bed as he hovered over her, supporting himself by her side with his free hand. ¡°You¡¯re so cruel Mistress,¡± He sang.

 Locked Drawer

    Almost a week had passed since Warren had unceremoniously put distance between himself and Gilbert. Gil used to spend his free time lounging around his master¡¯s study, occupying himself with chat or picking a random book from the wall. Warren had never noticed how much he enjoyed Gil¡¯s unimposing presence. He was polite and considerate. He never distracted him while he was working on something important and offered just enough conversation to keep Warren from straying from his desk and disappearing from his duties.


    Now, with Gil avoiding, him the room felt too large and empty. His worries and anxieties easily bounced off the walls and settled in the center of the room with no one there to act as a barrier. He was forced to realize just how diligent the younger man had been in his duties as an aide. Warren had mistakenly taken advantage of that studious work ethic. Getting a hold of Gil when he was actively avoiding the study meant that getting his work done was harder than usual. There were other aids wondering about the various offices in the Governor¡¯s manor but, none of them knew him and what he needed as well as Gil. He¡¯d just get frustrated with them and he couldn¡¯t risk doing something stupid and making himself seem even more intolerable.


    Gil did work for the Lord¡¯s estate. It was possible for Warren to order him to come to collect different documents or perform certain errands. One of the aids had even commented on that to him when he¡¯d needed to get the inspection report reviewed before handing the issue over to his father. Warren was no fool though. Ordering Gil to do something when he was this upset was probably the quickest way to sever any and all communication with him for the foreseeable future, and that was the last thing he wanted.


    He groaned to himself, pushing back from the desk and running his hands through his hair. He had no idea what to do to make this better. Maybe he¡¯d think better if he ate something. He had skipped lunch because he was trying to catch up on work that had fallen behind. Without Gil¡¯s help, it felt like he didn¡¯t have time to eat or sleep.


    His stomach had finally tugged his attention away from his work and forced him to venture out of his office in search of a snack. The young Lord made his way down to the kitchen. His Father had returned a few days ago so once again the Manor was filled with the bustle of state officials and visiting Lords moving amongst each other in a chaotic dance to keep the State running. He greeted the few other men and women that stopped him in the hall, though he tried to keep the pleasantries as brief as possible. With his father being the Governor of one of the wealthiest areas in the Central States and on personal terms with the Emperor, many visitors wanted to stop and talk to him in the hall. They figured that becoming informal with the son of the Governor would give them a better standing in the bigger political scheme. Right now Warren didn¡¯t have the energy to deal with the theater that was those types of daft and pointless conversations.


    The walk from his study to the kitchen took him longer than he would¡¯ve liked. The cook and her help were already starting to prepare dinner. When he popped into the kitchen he carefully moved around the working women to make his way towards the counter that Mrs. Dotty was using to cut vegetables. He gave her his best smile. ¡°Mrs. Dotty how are you?¡± he asked. The middle-aged woman had an unamused expression as she looked up at him.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°You missed lunch, young Lord,¡± She said, taking only a brief pause before returning to her preparations.


    Warren laughed a little, attempting to charm the woman, but she was married and a mother of several young boys herself. It hardly ever worked on her. ¡°I¡¯ve been quite busy this week, I¡¯ve hardly had time to sleep, nonetheless break midday for a meal. Surely you can take pity on your hard-working young Lord?¡± He asked hopefully. She just let out a small huff in response. ¡°Lord Salphus seems to be having no problems. It¡¯s hard to believe he¡¯s giving you so much work you¡¯re unable to find rest,¡± She said between chops of carrot.


    Warren was a bit annoyed with her line of questioning and her attitude, but she was one of the servants whose family had served the Salphuses for Generations. They worked hard and took care of the home as if it were their own pride. His father would absolutely destroy him if he let a bit of attitude slip towards her.


    ¡°Have mercy on me, Mrs. Dotty, I¡¯m a bit short on help these days,¡± He said. ¡°Upset Mr. Greaves, have you?¡± She asked, setting down the knife and going over to the pantry to retrieve a loaf of bread for him. Warren felt a tinge of embarrassment, but could he really be surprised that she knew? He was sure the entire staff knew by now. No one had ever accused the staff of this house of being mindful of gossip.


    ¡°You know huh?¡± he asked, stepping out of her way again as she returned to the counter to slice the bread. ¡°Young Lord, the entire household knows,¡± She said. ¡°Mr. Greaves wears his grievances next to his cufflinks,¡± She said. ¡°And he¡¯s normally glued to your side,¡± She added, setting the sliced bread onto a plate.


    Warren sighed a little, running his fingers through his hair anxiously. ¡°I may have crossed a line when I spoke to him¡­ he hasn¡¯t said a single word to me that wasn¡¯t curt business in a week,¡± He mumbled. ¡°Honestly, Mrs. Dotty, I¡¯m at a bit of a loss. I don¡¯t know what I can do to fix it. I¡¯ve been wracking my brain for days, I feel like it¡¯s starting to make it hard to get work done,¡± he said, leaning against the counter.


    ¡°Did you apologize?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Of course I apologized,¡± He insisted. ¡°I apologized that evening, but he wouldn¡¯t hear me.¡±


    ¡°But did you REALLY apologize?¡± She asked. ¡°My boys like to fight. They always have. Ruffians the lot of them. There¡¯s never a problem at the end as long as all of them know it was just their usually rough and tumble. Even if one of them really hurts the other, gives him a bloody nose or the like, a ¡®sorry¡¯ works fine because they know it was just one of their fights but, that only works if there was no ill will.¡± She said, switching the bread for a brick of cheese. ¡°You said you crossed a line, young Lord, and words can hurt just as bad as a fist. Thing about words too, is you can tell when people mean to hurt you with them,¡± She said, passing him the plate. ¡°A ¡®sorry¡¯ isn¡¯t gonna be enough this time, I think.¡±


    Warren let out a long sigh but smiled at the end of it. ¡°Thank you, Mrs. Dotty, I think I understand,¡± He said, taking the plate she offered him and kissing her cheek. ¡°How will I ever repay you for your wisdom?¡± he chuckled. She rolled her eyes at him. ¡°Get out of my girls way and don¡¯t ruin your appetite,¡± She said, shooing him towards the door. ¡°And get Mr. Greaves out of that mood. The atmosphere between you two at dinner could suffocate the rest of us,¡± she called to him as he left.

 Locked Drawer Pt. 2

    On his way out of the kitchen, Warren smiled to himself. Mrs. Dotty was a good woman. There was definitely a reason she was so valuable to the house. He made his way towards his study, but turned over his shoulder and looked down to the hall. There was light coming from inside Gil¡¯s room. Maybe he¡¯d returned from his errands for the day. Before he really had the chance to think about what he might say, he turned and headed towards that small began of light instead, knocking on the door and then opening it gently.


    ¡°Why do you bother knocking if you¡¯re just going to open the door anyway?¡± Gill asked, looking over to him from the couch near the fireplace. That was always his favorite place to feel upset.


    ¡°I brought a snack,¡± Warren offered, walking over to him, showing the plate of bread and cheese. Gil glanced up at it before returning his eyes to the book in his hand. It was one Warren had started reading to him the other night. Despite his attitude, Warren couldn¡¯t help but smile at that.


    ¡°I¡¯m not hungry,¡± he said, flipping to the next page and going back to ignoring him.


    Warren wasn¡¯t deterred. He sat the plate down on the table and sat against it so he was facing Gil.


    ¡°Tables aren¡¯t for sitting,¡± Gil said, leaning back against the couch and away from Warren.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Warren said, his eyes locked on his companion. He wasn¡¯t going to let Gil force him out of the conversation again.


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize and then keep sitting on my table,¡± he shot back curtly.


    ¡°No...Gil...I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry for what I said, back at the Cafe. I¡¯ve never spoken to you that way. I don¡¯t...I don¡¯t know why I suddenly started then. I know your upset about it-¡± He noticed Gil hadn¡¯t even looked up at him. He wasn¡¯t going to let this go just like that. He was going to make Gil acknowledge him.


    He stood up from the table, leaning forward and pushing the book in Gil¡¯s hands down into his lap. He leaned over the younger man, holding himself with one arm against the back of the couch so that he couldn¡¯t just move away. He leaned his face was closer to Gil¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± He repeated, this time with more earnest. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that I spoke to you like you were just some...I don¡¯t know some servant. It was cruel and I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯re not just a servant. You know that. You know you¡¯re more important than that.¡±


    For a moment it looked like Gil was going to forgive him. There was a moment of surprise on his face, and Warren felt relief wash over him cooler than a pond in the middle of the summer but, that relief didn¡¯t stay. It was just a moment of reprise that was taken over by seething anger. He shoved Warren away, making him stagger back a bit. Gil wasn¡¯t physically stronger than him, but he¡¯d been so caught off guard he near tripped over the table behind him.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!?¡± he shouted at Warren. Now it was time for the Lord¡¯s confusion to take hold. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± he repeated back to him.


    ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s the only reason you think I¡¯m upset!?¡± He was bubbling with the pent up anger.


    ¡°I Thought th-¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re not just selfish? You¡¯re a fool on top of that!¡± Gil looked like he wanted to use that plate as a weapon.


    ¡°Wait now, Selfish wh-¡± Gil wasn¡¯t going to let Warren get a single word in now.


    ¡°Selfish!¡± He shouted again. ¡°Selfish, pig-headed, and obviously naive! I¡¯m not only upset because you spoke to me like you needed to remind me of my place. I¡¯m upset because you¡¯re being so...so¡­.so idiotically reckless with your own life! Ever since you¡¯ve found that blasted book you¡¯ve done nothing but dig yourself closer and closer to the pits of the damned. It¡¯s as if your insufferable quest for knowledge includes wanting to know what the blades of torture feel like! I¡¯m more important than that? Have you taken a single moment to think about how important you are? How many lives depend on you? You¡¯re the sole heir to House Salphus. The state hangs on your well being, and you¡¯re willing to turn your back on all the people that depend on you because you wanted to read a gods damned book!?¡± Gilbert probably didn¡¯t realize it, but in his anger and his shouting small tears had formed in the corner of his eyes, threatening to break from of the dam at any moment.


    ¡°Gil, I¡¯m-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t! Don¡¯t you dare try and say you¡¯re sorry again when you¡¯re just going to disregard all of this? If you¡¯re going to remind me of my place as your servant then I¡¯m going to remind you of your place as the master. So many of the people in this manor would give their lives to protect House Salphus, myself included. Start acting like you deserve that loyalty!¡±


    The tears finally broke free and rolled down Gil¡¯s cheeks. He turned his head to the side to quickly wipe them away. Warren was stunned silent. Had he really been upset because he was this worried about him? Had Warren really been that naive? He thought that he had been an adequate Lord. His father was still alive and well and he wouldn¡¯t be stepping down from his post for another few years, so he¡¯d rarely thought about himself as someone people would depend on like that but Gil¡­ Gil was right. Maybe this all was a little reckless. Especially with the Inquisitors in town.


    He reached towards Gil, pushing his hand to the side and wiping the tears that had trickled down his cheeks away. He took Gil¡¯s wrist, pulling him forward to his chest and wrapping his arms around him. ¡°Gil, I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m truly sorry. I was being naive. You¡¯re right. The loyalty of these people...your loyalty¡­ I need to earn that,¡± he said. Gil hadn¡¯t tried to pull away from him but hadn¡¯t looked up at him either.


    He was silent for a moment. He didn¡¯t like the idea. He was finally starting to get a grasp on the books and what they meant¡­.what they could do...but he really couldn¡¯t risk everything over that right now. There was only one course of action. ¡°I¡¯ll put them away. For now, I¡¯ll lock the Grimoire away until it¡¯s safer,¡± he said.


    Gil finally lifted his head to meet Warren¡¯s gaze, before pulling away from him a bit. Warren could tell that wasn¡¯t the whole answer he was looking for, but¡­ it was the best he could do.


    Gil crossed his arms and turned his back to Warren. For a moment it felt like his heart stopped. Had Gil gotten upset with him again? Was he going to demand the books be thrown into the fire or something? The moment hung in the air heavier than smoke.


    Finally, Gil relented. ¡° Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Just be careful Warren,¡± he muttered. ¡°Please just be careful.¡±

 Dry Well

    The Manor home erupted at dawn. The cry of a rooster''s call could be heard outside as the sun started to peek over the treetops. The maids had only just woken up to start the morning chores and the kitchen hadn¡¯t even begun to smell of the baking bread yet.


    The startling commotion woke up the house slowly. First calling attention from the staff, and then the few visiting, and finally the Master of the house.


    ¡°What is all this fuss so early in the morning!¡± The Governor boomed as he made his way into the foyer where it seemed the commotion had started. Several maids stood scattered around the room watching as the old butler and two of the house men tried to keep out several townspeople who had shown up at the door.


    Gilbert rubbed his eyes as he stepped out into the hallway, meeting Warren at the top of the staircase. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked. Warren frowned a bit. ¡±Nothing good,¡± He muttered. The citizens of the capital didn¡¯t exactly make it a habit to go barging into the governor''s home like this unannounced. While it was illegal for him to train and staff his own forces, there were a small number of the Emperor¡¯s men station at the Manor home.


    The townspeople were shouting over top of each other, making it hard to be understood. ¡°Enough, everyone be quiet! I can¡¯t understand a word anyone is saying!¡± He commanded. Silence rippled across the front hall with the stern order from Governor Salphus. Warren made his way slowly down the stairs, gilbert trailing behind him.


    ¡°You, there,¡± he pointed to a particularly frazzled looking young shopkeep. ¡°Take a breath and slowly tell me what¡¯s going on. Why are you all at my front door so blasted early in the morning.¡±


    The young man took a deep breath, looking it out slowly, shaking as he did. ¡°D-dead¡­.a-at the bottom of the well in the center of the city. T-their eyes were all missing, nothing but scorched black holes left. Dear Cors, it was horrible!¡± he started to grow frantic. ¡°Who, boy, who is dead?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Men from the temple,¡± A hard looking elderly farmer piped in. ¡°Three of them at the bottom of the well. We went to check and see if the water had filled it yet and there at the bottom they were. Eyes looked like they¡¯d been burned out, and it looked like they¡¯d been bound with barbed wire.¡±


    Gil felt his heart jump into his throat. Priests were dead? In such a grotesque way? He took a few fearful steps back up the stairs, but Warren grabbed his arm. ¡°Don¡¯t, it¡¯ll look suspicious,¡± he whispered to him. To hell with looking suspicious people were dying! What if they were next?


    ¡°My Lord! It has to be witches right? That¡¯s who they were here for! And now they turn up dead and disfigured!¡± The third citizen, an elderly woman asked, starting to grow panicked.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Lord Salphus shouted once again. ¡°Rumors aren¡¯t going to do anyone any good right now. Don¡¯t go spreading things that have no solid truth to them. Our state has never once had an issue with witches. There has been prosperity and peace since House Salphus took charge, do you think we would let something like this happen?¡± He asked. There were murmurs across the room.


    ¡°Warren,¡± he called, turning around towards his son. Warren nodded, leaving stairs and approaching the group. ¡°Yes Father?¡± he asked. ¡°Go collect Captain Lee and take six men with you into the city to start figuring out what¡¯s going on. If the Temple of Cors shows up you have authority to make sure they don¡¯t do anything reckless. Be physical if you have to I will not have this spiral into a fear-filled hunt before we know what¡¯s going on. And Gilbert,¡±


    Upon hearing his name the young man froze. ¡°Yes My Lord?¡± He asked. ¡°Go get dressed and run ahead. If the city guard isn¡¯t already there grab them and have them make sure that the secure the area until Warren and the Emperor¡¯s men can arrive,¡± he said. Gilbert was unable to move. The last thing he wanted was to get close to those men right now, but the diligent Governor wasn¡¯t having any of that. ¡°Go, boy, now!¡±


    Like a pup who had received a command he turned and stumbled up the stairs, running to his room to throw on his clothes as quickly as possible. His heart was beating so hard he felt like it was going to block out everything else with its cacophonous pounding.


    Gilbert didn¡¯t want to be caught up in this. Nothing but panicked thoughts filled his head. Images of him arriving and the priests already being there, ready to take him away, or demanding that he tell them where Warren was. Or even worse, that the already knew where Warren was. Nothing else shook around in that empty space he called ahead as he made his way towards the center of town. Blast that forsaken book!


    *------*


    Gil was out of breath when he arrived at the scene. The city guard were already there. He stopped in front of the man who seemed to be in charge and practically vomited out the Governor¡¯s orders. The guards began to push people away forcing them to take a few steps back from the well. Gilbert leaned over to catch his breath. As he filled his lungs with refreshed air he noticed small bits of rope hanging out of the well. He knew what was down there, but he was filled with the urge to see it for himself. Like hearing a howl in the middle of the night he let his curiosity get the best of him as he took a few steps forward to look into the depths of the well. He took hold of one of the ropes and peered over the edge.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to look down there.¡±


    A heavy gloved hand clapped down on to Gil¡¯s shoulder. In a ballet of responses, he leaped out of his skin and swung around, releasing the rope and letting it tumble down into the well. The city guard who had seen him groaned a bit when the tail of the rope slithered back into the basin.


    ¡°Now we¡¯re gonna have to re-rope that one. You shouldn¡¯t go around touching things like that,¡± he mumbled. ¡°When did you say Lord Salphus and the Imperial men were getting here?¡± The guard asked.


    ¡°They should be here any minute,¡± Gilbert said, straightening himself out a bit.


    ¡°Good because our friends are here,¡± He said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.


    Attempting to part through the crowd were the remaining priests and their gruff looking companions. They looked solemn, but something about that expression felt deadly. The men who had just been shouting fire into an empty room now had a flame of proof to show people. Now their actions were justified.

 Dry Well Pt 2

    ¡°Who is in charge of this? Where is the guard in command, let us through on the authority of the Central Temple!¡± Rudolph was at the front. If not for his robes and sun-shaped pendant he would''ve looked like any other townsperson. The guard who had been beside Gilbert pulled away, addressing the angry priest. ¡°Sorry, can¡¯t do that. We¡¯ve been ordered not to let anyone through until the Imperial guard arrive,¡± he said.


    The disdain for that answer might as well have been printed on the priest¡¯s face in red ink.


    ¡°This is a temple matter! You must let us through! You have no authority to impede our investigation unless you are trying to protect the witches who quite clearly committed this heinous crime!¡± He spoke louder this time. The more people who heard his claim the more people he had on his side.


    The gossip burst from the crowd at the mention of witches, and people started to push against the guards.


    ¡°Let them through!¡±


    ¡°Catch the Witches!¡±


    ¡°Our city is in danger!¡±


    Shouts from the people started to grow. The priest¡¯s eyes landed heavily on Gilbert and he felt the weight of the bricks of burden that were being placed on his shoulders with each cry. He had no authority to go against the Governor or Lord Salphus, yet every second he felt a creeping fear that if he didn¡¯t agree it would turn on them.


    With his silence, the priest motioned for his barbaric companions to push the guards aside. Gilbert took a step back. In slow motion, he could see this crowd turning into a riot if a fight broke out between this hired muscle and the city guard.


    ¡°Stop, you¡¯re not allowed any closer!¡± Gilbert demanded of the priest.


    ¡°You have do not have the authority to stop men of the Temple from investigating matters like this. Keep pushing through!¡±


    Just as it seemed things were going to grow dangerous and that fists were going to fly, the sound of a sword being drawn silenced the priest. Warren and the Imperial force had arrived just in time. One of them had grabbed the arm of the instigating priest while others held their weapons against the two men who had laid hands on the city guard.


    ¡°I know you weren¡¯t ignoring the Governor¡¯s orders to stay back from the scene, were you, Mr. Rudolph,¡± Warren said, having made his way through the crowd, accompanied by the Captain of the stationed forces. They were intimidating men. Men whose faces and bodies showed signs of fights that were much more dangerous than a scuffle in the center of a city. With black uniforms embroidered with the gold crest of the Emperor, they were actors of his direct rule in each state, commanded by his Governor¡¯s on his behalf.


    Rudolph seemed turbulent at their appearance, pulling against the man who had restrained him. ¡°The Governor does not have the right to stop us from investigating matters of the Temple like this! You¡¯re protecting Witche-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have the ability to stop you, that is correct,¡± Warren walked towards the priest with stern confidence. He wasn¡¯t shaken. He was Lord Warren Salphus, assistant Governor of Kar and voice of the Emperor. Gilbert could see that confidence radiate off of him in the way he walked. Shoulders back, head high, looking down his nose at the other man. That attitude is what was going to get him into trouble, Gilbert knew it. He acted recklessly because he wasn¡¯t afraid of the consequences of that confidence.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°We all know that the Emperor offers the Temple of Cors the privilege of free movements between his states and kingdoms, but that is a privilege that he has the power to be revoked as well. This is a delicate situation right now. Do you really want to see who curries more favor? You with the Temple or House Salphus with the Emperor?¡± He asked in a low voice.


    Rudolph''s lips pursed tight, but he stopped resisting. He looked like a cornered rat. Warren motioned for him to be released.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know what happened yet. We don¡¯t know if it was witches or if it was a robbing. All we know is three men were found dead in a city well. City property. Which means that the city has the right to investigate these deaths first. As a courtesy, because they were your fellows, we will permit one member of the Temple to assist in our preliminary investigation. Once we rule out the possibility of street violence, we will return the matter to the hands of the church, and you may continue your investigation,¡± Warren said, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down the priest.


    ¡°I want to speak to the Governor directly about this manner,¡± Rudolph demanded. Warren nodded. ¡°Absolutely. The Governor has agreed to see you any time today, whenever you see fit you can discuss this matter, peacefully, at the Governor¡¯s Manor,¡± He said, with all the courtesy one would bestow a great favor. Rudolph had no option but to accept, otherwise, he¡¯d risk his investigation at this point.


    He turned like an indignant child, leaving the crowd with his entourage and making his way towards the manor. The Governor was going to be in the most joyful of moods for the rest of the day, enjoying the Temple¡¯s company.


    Warren turned to the city guard and ordered them to disperse the crowd before addressing the Imperial men. ¡°We need to get the bodies out of there and to a private place where they can be examined. We can¡¯t do it out here without causing a scene. Try to get them out of there and covered as quickly as possible,¡± he ordered, before walking back over to Gil.


    His demanding exterior melted away as he put away the face of Lord Salphus and once again became just Warren. ¡°Are you alright? You look a little shaken up,¡± he said. He offered him a kind smile, the kind that made Gilbert momentarily forget his worries. That smile was a feat amongst itself because Gilbert often needed a cart to carry his anxieties.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± He nodded in response. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you do it. How you can remain so calm in moments like that. It¡¯s like you weren¡¯t afraid of anything,¡± He said, letting out a long sigh and rubbing his face with his hands.


    ¡°I was scared...but I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± Warren offered.


    ¡°You¡¯re not making any sense.¡± Gilbert groaned back.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, it doesn¡¯t make sense. It¡¯s hard to explain but¡­ once you know things. Once you truly understand them situations become less frightening. I was scared because I haven¡¯t put what I know into practice before but, I¡¯m not scared because I know that you can put it into practice,¡± he said, putting his hand on Gilbert¡¯s shoulder, running it gently down his arm. ¡°I really do hope one day you¡¯ll take the chance to read the book, to listen to what it says. I want to share this comfort with you.¡±


    Gilbert let his hands drop to his side let out a heavy breath, looking up to Warren. He really did want to understand. He wanted to understand everything about his master, but how could learning more lessen the fear of being caught and hung.


    ¡°You promised you¡¯d put the books away,¡± He reminded him, lowering his tone.


    ¡°I did and I have. Just like I swore to you. I haven¡¯t taken them out, and I won¡¯t. Not unless you decide you want to read them beside me,¡± He said.


    Gilbert was a bit suspicious as to how long that would last. He said he locked away the books, but had he really not tried to conjure anything he¡¯d learned. Had he not taking that forbidden knowledge to wrench control from the hands of heaven? And if he hadn¡¯t how long would he hold back from that temptation, and what if there was someone edging that temptation forward. Lord Ross, the one who he¡¯d been corresponding with. Was he still doing so?


    These were all questions he wanted to demand answers too, but he knew right now he couldn¡¯t. Right now he had to be grateful that Warren wasn¡¯t getting himself into trouble. As long as he could continue serving his Lord, he was alright with leaving those questions unanswered.

 Dry Well Bonus

    The weather was cool, making the cafe quite pleasant. Tea had been served with some small cakes. They could just barely see the remnants of the morning chaos from their table.


    ¡°Did you intend to bumble like this and leave your handy work behind?¡± The young woman asked. She pushed wheat blond hair back behind her ear to keep it from getting in her tea as she sipped.


    ¡°Technically it wasn¡¯t my handy work, It was Snake¡¯s,¡± The black haired man chuckled in response.


    ¡°Your familiar¡¯s handy work is your own. The Mistress is going to be upset when she finds out that you not only killed three temple men, but you left them where they could be found,¡± She chided him, setting her cup down to reach for one of the small cakes. The man pushed the plate closer to her.


    ¡°You worry too much. The Mistress trusts my Judgement. I¡¯m not a child. If I hadn¡¯t wanted them found they would¡¯ve never been found.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even want to imagine what little ingenious plan you think you have, giving those nasty dogs a bone to chase. If you had left them alone they would¡¯ve moved on to a new state in a few months. You should¡¯ve let them chase their tails,¡± She said with a huff, catching his eyes with a judgemental stare. For someone who looked so much like a girl she certainly had the attitude of an angry old woman.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have left empty-handed,¡± He reminded her.


    ¡°But they wouldn¡¯t have left with a witch,¡± She said, setting her cup back down with a clank.


    ¡°An innocent death isn¡¯t much better. I¡¯ve never believed that it¡¯s right to let someone who knows nothing die in our stead,¡± He said.


    ¡°So you¡¯d give them a witch?¡± She shot back at him.


    ¡°Ideally I¡¯d give them nothing. You needn¡¯t be so defensive. I¡¯m not careless. From what I¡¯ve gathered from other covens it¡¯s been a few decades since they¡¯ve caught an actual witch. People are growing weary of them.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re giving them just what they¡¯re looking for? A witch to chase?¡±


    He leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in his lap. ¡°I am. I¡¯m giving them me. The temple is too close to our new baby brothers. They aren¡¯t yet awake enough to walk amongst the ranks of the coven, and they know too little to protect themselves if the accusations turn to them. The Mistress was very clear. We do not turn our backs on those who have chosen to open their eyes. ¡®And only then, with the knowledge of the very existence of life will you be able to move through the darkness with absolute certainty.¡¯ Those are your words, are they not?¡± He asked her. ¡°They¡¯ve chosen to move through the darkness. It¡¯s our job to guide them as best we can. I am not going to put the Mistress, or you, or Anya in any danger. I am taking this risk knowingly out of love for the Mistress and her coven. So please. Don''t question where it¡¯s not your right to question.¡±

 Black Lace

    Spring had come to Kar with all the grace and dignity expected of a battering ram. Trees shook their white blankets and burst into bloom in a display with the intensity and beauty of a fireworks show. Windows were thrust open to let the still too cold first airs of spring into the house to nip at the ears and fingers of bustling servants as they put away heavy velvet table runners in favor of lighter silks or stewards who hung old rugs from lines in the side yard as gardens arrived to tend to the awakening plants.


    The house felt more alive then it had in months. The investigation of the body¡¯s had been determined to be the results of a street mugging gone wrong. Even though the Temple refused to accept that answer, they had gone quiet and allowed the city to embrace the turning of the seasons.


    Warren had seemed like he¡¯d slowly shifted back to normal. The books had been locked away and he seamlessly returned to his duties. He walked the streets, making sure that fixtures were secure and roads weren¡¯t in need of repair. He kept Gil busy, sending him to tax collectors and bankers and offices to collect this or distribute that or make official requests on behalf of the Governor¡¯s office. Gil was content to settle into normality.


    The night of the equinox came swiftly. The spring parties were some of the best in the empire. From street block parties to lavish soiree everyone was celebrating the coming of my new seasons. The home of House Salphus was no exception. After the uncertainty around the young Lord¡¯s behavior over the past few months, Warren had decided to throw a generous party to make up for the lost time. He had always loved parties, so Gil was quite happy to be knocked side to side by the waves of excitement that came with planning the event.


    The afternoon of the equinox Gil had just finished up his errands and was making his way into the house. Servant¡¯s were buzzing about under the direction of Mrs. Windsworth who used her every breath to make sure this party was more beautiful than the last. Sometimes the servants joked that she hadn¡¯t retired yet because she loved to feel like the lady of the house when putting together these events.


    On his way into the house, Gil nearly tripped over a caterer who was trying to set up plates in the parlor. Maids and housemen gave little thought to jostling him left or right in the hall. Jealousy was the right shade for Spring but the aid didn¡¯t pay it any mind. He was the servant that got to attend the party after all. While the rest of them only got to mingle amongst the well to do when they were serving the food or drinks, Gilbert got to stay beside the young Lord and enjoy the finer things House Salphus had to offer.


    Gil quickly dropped off a few papers in Warren¡¯s empty study. When he did so something on the desk caught his eye. He stopped to look again at the envelope that was opened with a letter half hanging out of it. At first, he could''ve sworn he saw it addressed from Lord Ross, but his eyes grew blurry for a moment, and after rubbing the tiredness from them he looked back to see it was just an average report from the northern part of the state.


    Paying it no mind after that, he made his way out of the study and to his room. He only had two suits that were suitable for a party like this. He wasn¡¯t a Nobel himself so he didn¡¯t call for such clothes very often. Both a different shade of blue, he pulled the newer one from his closet and laid it across his bed to get dressed.


    As he did he couldn¡¯t help let his mind drift. A small smile came to his lips as he thought about how sweet and serene life had become. Happiness filled him like a light air these days, lifting him off his feet. No matter the work or the errands, he didn¡¯t mind doing them, because Warren had kept to his promise. The threat of danger seemed to slide away. Soon it would be gone for good. He knew that.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Once he had finished dressing he left his room. He had to go check on Warren and make sure he was actually getting dressed and that he hadn¡¯t gotten distracted halfway through the process. Gil smiled to himself and laughed a bit. For a Lord, Warren was practically useless without him.


    A tray of table linens rounded the corner, forcing Gil to duck as he exited his room. The maid who had almost beamed him with the tin tray didn¡¯t even look over her shoulder at him. He could hear her scoff a little as she muttered under her breath about how some of them were busy.


    No matter. Gil trotted down the hall towards Warren¡¯s room. The sun was setting, food was being placed out, and the dissident ping of a string quartet in the main hall warming up echoed across the house.


    ¡°Warren, your guests are going to be arriving soon,¡± he said, entering the young Lord¡¯s room. He closed the door behind him as he entered, catching glimpse of the fact Warren was still dressing. Gil couldn¡¯t help but take a moment to wonder how Warren managed to keep his body so healthy with how much he lazed about.


    ¡°Guests don¡¯t need me to help themselves to wine and sweets,¡± he answered, pulling on a silk dress shirt. Before he could get far, Gil¡¯s fingers found the buttons, fixing them into place as Warren reached back to comb his fingers through his hair, trying to guide it back into the ribbon tie with little luck. He smiled down at Gil. A snide comment bubbled up in his mouth, but he bit it back. He didn¡¯t want to stop him.


    Gil ignored Warren¡¯s eyes as they fixated on him for a moment. The young Lord let out a small, disappointed sigh. ¡°You should branch out every once in a while, you only ever seem to wear blue,¡± Warren commented, giving Gil¡¯s suit jacket a disapproving once over. ¡°I like blue, what¡¯s wrong with blue? ¡± Gil responded, grabbing the vest that had been laid out across the back of a chair. A distinguished design of green and gold checks.


    ¡°Blue is just fine. It compliments the black tones of your hair, matches your eyes, and is absolutely the only color you own,¡± he taunted, letting Gil slip the vest onto his shoulders for him.


    ¡°No one else has ever minded the amount of any color I¡¯ve worn,¡± Gil said as he handed Warren the ring and gold pocket watch set on the table.


    ¡°Mmm, I suppose, but I am the one who has to look at you in it all the time. Blue is such a subtle and subdued color. It does you just about as much justice as a waistcoat does a robin.¡±


    ¡°Well then. What is it that you, in your all knowing wisdom, suggest I wear,¡± Gil asked, leaning back on the table where the pocket watch once sat and resting against his arms as Warren finished dressing.


    His companion pondered the question for a moment. He kept his back to Gil as he did, fixing the ring onto his finger and slipping the pocket watch into his vest pocket. He let out an unnecessarily drawn out ¡°Hmmmmm,¡± as he fixed his cuffs and cufflinks, before looking over his shoulder at Gil. He gave him a look so sly it could alarm a fox.


    ¡°Red.¡± He said, satisfied with his answer. ¡°You should try Red. A bright, alluring color is much more suited for you,¡± He said, tugging his vest down and checking himself in the mirror. Gil felt a tint of heat in his face.


    ¡°Red?¡± he asked back, turning his eyes away from Warren and looking out the window. His face felt warm. Warren hadn¡¯t opened his windows to air out the room yet.


    The young Lord gave a small chuckle. ¡°Yes, Red, the opposite of blue,¡± he teased. Before Gil could think of a comeback, Warren had seized his jaw and turned his head so he was forced to make eye contact with that upsettingly smug expression. ¡°Red, Just like your face right now.¡± Warren¡¯s eyes sparkled with a frustrating amount of amusement as he snickered.


    Gilbert smacked his hand away from him, bringing only more laughter out of Warren. ¡°The party hasn¡¯t even started and yet you¡¯re already insufferably drunk,¡± he said, yanking down his coat and pulling his collar back into place. ¡°I¡¯m going downstairs to greet YOUR guests,¡± he huffed, leaving the room with a little slam of the door.


    Warren couldn¡¯t help but grin as he left, leaning back on the wall behind him as he did. He¡¯d be down in a moment after Gil had a chance to cool off.

 Black Lace pt.2

    It took no time at all for the party to fill the house and for laughter and gleeful shouts to flood the manor like a burst water pipe, washing down the halls and splashing against the walls, echoing into each room, cove, and cranny. Carriages were lined up in the drive, unloading the young and well to do. Men and women sat draped across every chair, bench, loveseat, and couch to drink and sing and tell stories each more dubious than the last.


    Warren lounged in a chair in the parlor, glass in hand. It took only moments for his hair to escape the holds of the silk ribbon meant to keep it back. Gil sat against the arm of the chair, cheeks flushed with the warmth of expensive wine. Across from them was the Lord who oversaw the southern region of Kar on the Governor¡¯s behalf. Beside him sat his wife. She was a lady he married, quite obviously, for her beauty and not for her talent of song yet somehow they had already been graced with three or four different tunes. To their left was a relative of the Governor from a neighboring state. A brash man who was known to pick up challenges and duels as quickly as one might pick up a precious piece of jewelry that had fallen. He¡¯d also drop them just as quickly upon realizing what a stupid idea that was as well.


    These were some of the nobles in the area that Warren was closer to. Warren had a larger sphere of influence than Gilbert suspected that he was willing to admit. His family was close to the emperor, and through the power games that the rich normally played, Warren was one of the best pieces to get close to. Especially for parents of an unmarried daughter. Gilbert clicked his tongue underneath his breath at the thought, taking a sip of his wine.


    When he looked off to the side he caught Lord Salphus¡¯s loose grin. ¡°Why do you look like you¡¯re drinking vinegar instead of wine?¡± he laughed, taking the glass from Gilbert¡¯s hand. ¡°I wish you wouldn¡¯t do that,¡± Gilbert said. Warren did a perfect job of ignoring him, raising the glass to his lips instead. ¡°It tastes fine to me,¡± He said, giving it back to Gil. He huffed a little, snatching the glass back, his cheeks warm. Expensive wine seemed to have a quicker effect on him then what he normally drank.


    ¡°So,¡± The southern Lord asked, snagging a glass from a passing maid and slipping it into the hand of his wife before she had the chance to lift her voice again. ¡°What kept you away so long? For a little while there it seemed like our dear friend had disappeared,¡± He commented.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I fell ill this winter. It kept me in my room for several weeks, and then once that had finally cleared I was so behind on my duties I might as well have still been locked in my room.¡±


    ¡°Oh our poor Lord, so busy being oh so important,¡± He mocked with an overdramatic sigh.


    ¡°You know, my love,¡± his wife piped up, taking a small sip from her glass. ¡°Maybe if Luke didn¡¯t have to keep you out of social gatherings and you focused on your work a little more, our poor Lord wouldn¡¯t have to pick up so much slack in the south,¡± she said.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    A laugh circled the group as the young man clutched his heart. ¡°My sweet wife you wound me,¡± He said, putting his arm around her and pulling her to his side. ¡°All I do is shower you with my love and you choose to side with Warren over your Dear Husband? Why is Cors so cruel to me,¡± He said, trying to lean his head onto her shoulder. Gilbert couldn¡¯t help but think the woman must¡¯ve had the patience of a saint to be able to keep reigns on Lord Alsopp.


    ¡°Ahh!¡± Gilbert suddenly felt Warren pull away from the seat and stand up. ¡°Lord Ross you managed to make it!¡±


    Gil¡¯s tie felt so tight all of the sudden. What was that man¡­.That¡­.witch doing here? He turned to see if maybe he was mistaken. Maybe there was a different man who just shared a similar name. No such luck.


    There he was wrapped in a lush black velvet suit, trimmed with gold. His black hair was slicked and tied back at the base of his neck. His all too mischievous smile and his glittering dark eyes were more focused on Warren with more interest then made Gil comfortable


    ¡°Lord Salphus, thank you for the invitation. We¡¯re more than happy to spend the equinox in such wonderful company. After all, what a celebration!¡± He said with a smooth enthusiasm.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure you¡¯d be able to make it. I thought you had already left town,¡± Warren said, offering him a glass of wine. ¡°My business kept me in town for longer than I had expected. We met some hiccups along the way,¡± He said, graciously taking the wine and handing it off to the woman to his left.


    Gil¡¯s eyes were drawn away from Lord Ross to the woman at his side. He hadn¡¯t even noticed that she was there. She seemed to simply slip into the background, which was hard to imagine. Perhaps he needed to slow down a bit with the liqueur. He felt the sting of being watched, looking up to meet the woman¡¯s gaze. Eyes the color of melted gold caught his. It should¡¯ve been beautiful. It was a tingling color he¡¯d never seen on a woman before, it should¡¯ve taken his breath away, but it didn¡¯t. It felt like those eyes swirled and turned, gripping the heart in his chest until he couldn¡¯t breathe, overpowering him. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was awe or terror he felt.


    ¡°Warren!¡± Lord Aslopp called. ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there, bring your friends over and introduce them!¡±


    Warren laughed a little, turning to the other Lord. ¡°You¡¯re a bit late, it seems the merriment has already begun,¡± He said, holding out his arm and gesturing to the group.


    ¡°I would hope so, it is a party after all,¡± Lord Ross said, walking with them to join the group, the woman following next to him.


    Lord Withrop, the quieter and notably more irritable of Warren¡¯s friends stood when they approached, offering the Lady his seat. She bowed her head lightly to him scripted courtesy and slid into the seat with delicate ease.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it seems I didn¡¯t catch your names,¡± Lord Aslopp said. ¡°Jasper Aslopp, I oversee the southern region of Kar for Governor Salphus,¡± He said, offering his hand


    Lord Ross Laughed contently in response, leaning forward to shake his hand. ¡°It¡¯s alright, on a night like this I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll all learn and forget many names, Lord Edwin Ross. And this lovely lady beside me is Lady Ross,¡± he said.


    Lord Withrop looked a little surprised to hear the name. The bewilderment didn¡¯t go unnoticed by Lord Ross. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, have we met before? You seem to recognize me. I apologize I¡¯m absolutely horrible with faces,¡± he said.

 Black Lace pt.3

    ¡°My cousin governs a state that backs into the Kingdom of Seth. Supposedly the land at his border is governed by a Duke by the name of Ross, but last I heard he was quite the elderly man,¡± he said.


    ¡°Aha, Yes. My Father must be the man you¡¯ve heard of. It¡¯s a tradition in Seth for men who carry the House to also carry the same name. My father was Edwin Ross as well,¡± he said. ¡°Though I don¡¯t know whether to be worried or prideful about that look on your face at the sound of my family name. Please tell me we do have a reputation that precedes us,¡± He implored, a devious smile spread across his lips.


    ¡°You are well aware no such reputation follows your name, now behave yourself.¡± Gil couldn¡¯t recall hearing the woman speak since she¡¯d been introduced. He¡¯d remember such a melodic voice. It carried the words of that chiding to a much more satisfying end than several of Lady Aslopp¡¯s songs.


    ¡°Any Lord worth his salt is hopeful to hear that his name speaks for him!¡± Warren chimed in with a laugh. The lady flashed him a small look of annoyance. Perhaps it was for goading on Lord Ross.


    ¡°Ah, well, not any Lord,¡± Lord Aslopp added, leaning forward to offer the man across from him a taunting gesture. ¡°I¡¯m sure Lord Withrop here isn¡¯t elated at the idea of having to count ten paces every time he enters a room.¡±


    ¡°My dear, is the man who is known for duels really the one you want to mock right now?¡± His wife interjected.


    ¡°My point made for me! Thank you, my beautiful wife!¡± He laughed, hooking his arm around her in a fashion that would¡¯ve embarrassed her had not everyone in the room been two or three glasses into their evening.


    ¡°One doesn¡¯t have to be a lord for word to follow them,¡± Edwin offered, sinking to sit against the arm of the chair his Lady companion was in. ¡°Sometimes It is just a title.¡±


    ¡°A title?¡± Lady Aslopp asked curiously, letting her husband pull her against his side and practically into his lap. ¡°What title would proceed a man? Perhaps the Emperor? Or a King?¡± She asked


    ¡°Or Witch Hunter,¡± Edwin said back leaning forward like a child telling a ghost story. ¡°I heard that the bodies of three of them were found in a well at the center of the city. I¡¯m sure that caused quite the upset,¡± he alleged.


    ¡°Has word already traveled that far?¡± Gil asked. A grisly imagine popped to mind that would explain just why Lord Ross was so aware of the comings and goings of the witch hunters.


    Edwin situated himself, taking a sip from the wine. ¡°That type of news travels far and fast. After all, the hunter became the hunted. It¡¯s rare that you find the witch hunters being ripped apart, not doing the ripping,¡± He said.


    Gil couldn¡¯t help but think his language quite grotesque. Surely there were sweeter things they could talk about in the presence of two Ladies.


    ¡°No! Witches? In this state?¡± Lord Aslopp exclaimed, drawing himself towards the conversation like a month to a flame. Gossip was the best part about getting to count yourself among the ruling class. ¡°There are witches in Kar?¡± He asked.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡°They¡¯ve proven nothing! Our investigation proved that the incident was just a bad bought of street violence. No hunting involved. They¡¯ve been here for a month and have done nothing but make the citizens of this city suspicious of their friends. They¡¯ll leave when they realize they¡¯ve found nothing,¡± Warren maintained.


    ¡°Oh they¡¯ll find something,¡± came the solemn interjection from Lord Withrop. ¡°They always find something. The Temple found their way to our port city a two or so years ago and after months of agonizing and interrogating they eventually pulled three young women from the city. They started accusing them of being witches and hauled them off to Kingswallow for a hanging. Claimed they found one of those witch books, but after all the commotion from the city and pressure to find something I¡¯m not completely sure they didn¡¯t place the book there themselves.¡±


    Gil felt the hand of this conversation grip his stomach and twist it to the side. He glanced at Warren. So far, every time something like this had come up, Warren had remained level headed about it. Not a single time had he batted an eye. He was dedicated to his search for knowledge and did not fear the idea of it being taken from him. However, it seemed that act was harder to maintain when champaign had loosened the dam of his worry. He looked a bit shaken now, for the first time he seemed fearful of what the Temple might find.


    ¡°That¡¯s Lunacy!¡± Lord Aslopp exclaimed, only to receive a worried hush from his wife. ¡°You can¡¯t say things like that,¡± She muttered to him.


    ¡°I can and I will. I¡¯m a man of Cors just as much as the next but these priests are not holy beings themselves! They¡¯re just people. Some of them are outstanding people but you can not tell me in the whole of the clergy there isn¡¯t a man or two amongst them that counts himself in the lower degrees of society. I¡¯ll just come right out and say it. I don¡¯t believe the Temple should be able to go state to state unchecked like this.¡±


    ¡°To err is human,¡± Edwin agreed, nodding his head a bit.


    Sharp, glittering eyes found their mark on Gil while a sing-song voice wrapped around him, gripping tight like the talons of a bird of prey. ¡°You¡¯ve been quite silent on the matter. Have you no opinion? Or is it simply that you are a devout man of Cors?¡±


    It felt like every eye in the room was looking to Gil for the answer to that question. Why was anyone being targeted? He was just an aid. All of the people here knew that. No one ever demanded his opinion on anything. It felt like someone was pushing the walls of the room closer to him. He needed to give an answer but he wanted to stand and leap out the window and into the garden. He clenched the crystal glass a little tighter in his hand, trying to read the woman¡¯s face for the type of answer she wanted. Impossible. It was like trying to see her through Lace. Only glimpses and glances of emotion through cracks in an otherwise beautiful and dark veil.


    ¡°What opinion should I have?¡± he finally spoke, nearly croaking his answer. ¡°I am not a Lord, nor am I a Priest. My opinion bears little weight on the way things play out. It¡¯s easier to just...try and ignore it,¡± he answered. Whatever answer this woman was looking for, the one he gave was not it.


    ¡°That¡¯s a pity,¡± She muttered, leaning her head tiredly against her hand. She held up her glass, Lord Ross taking it without missing the cue. ¡°It seems that my Lady would like a refill. If you¡¯ll excuse me for a moment. Lord Salphus, would you accompany me? I have a few things I¡¯d like to ask you about our last meeting,¡± he said.


    In response, Gilbert immediately stood up. ¡°I¡¯ll go with you,¡± He offered. Their last meeting was not an event he was going to let Warren repeat. He wanted to keep this man at arm¡¯s length if possible.


    For his effort, he got nothing but a smile in return. ¡°If I had an aid as diligent as you I¡¯d get so much more accomplished. It¡¯s just a glass of wine. I¡¯m sure Lord Salphus and I will be able to figure it out on our own,¡± He said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it will be fine,¡± Warren leaned in to whisper. He patted Gilbert¡¯s shoulder before following alongside Lord Ross.

 A Spark

    The garden was not where the wine was kept, but somehow it was where the Lords had found themselves. The moon hung large and bright in the sky, casting just enough light to keep them from tripping in the evening darkness.


    ¡°You and the Lady have an interesting set of signals,¡± Warren commented, his gaze turning to the man beside him. He was as cool and sirene as the waters in the pond. He walked about as if it were his own manor. He smiled nonchalantly at Warren. They¡¯d traded thousands of words up to this point, but Warren still didn¡¯t know exactly who Edwin Ross really was.


    Lord Ross didn¡¯t seem off-put by his stare. Why would he? They both knew that at this moment, Lord Ross held all the cards.


    ¡°Mmm, no. I¡¯m sure that My Lady most certainly did want more wine,¡± He said with a soft chuckle. ¡°She¡¯ll be quite annoyed to find I didn¡¯t obtain it. Unfortunately when opportunity strikes only the fools turn their backs on it. Her ire will by the price for our chance at a private conversation,¡± He said. His smile never faltered when he spoke. Warren had spoken to many a politician in his life and none had kept their hands as closely guarded as this man.


    ¡°Then may I ask just who it is I am speaking with? Who are you when you¡¯re not pretending to be a Duke of Seth?¡± He asked. He eyed Edwin closer, hoping to see a ripple of something. No such luck, all he got in return for his intrigue was a soft chuckle.


    ¡°I am most certainly the true Duke of Seth. You shouldn¡¯t be so surprised that I¡¯ve survived in such a high profile position so long. After all, the church doesn¡¯t have the same rights to enter our Kingdom as they do to roam around your empire,¡± he said, stopping. He stood for a moment in silence. Warren could tell he was waiting for him to say something. No matter how hard he wanted to try, he wasn¡¯t the one driving this conversation.


    ¡°So the Kingdom of Seth is full of them then?¡± He asked. Once again he got nothing but a chuckle. It felt like he was being patronized. Warren wanted to snap at him but knew that no good was going to come of this. For whatever reason, Lord Ross saw himself as Warren¡¯s superior and would continue to speak to him with the tone a teacher would use when aiding a child in his lessons.


    ¡°No, no there are probably were at one point just as many of us in the Empire as there were in Seth. Over the past few decades, the numbers have become a little unbalanced thanks to the temple, but it¡¯s not as if witches act like rabbits in Seth. Several families have just fled behind our borders. Though, our king¡¯s weak disposition and the nearly bloodless take over from the empire is going to strain that again,¡± He let out a long sigh. A sigh that certainly didn¡¯t belong to a man who was simply the Duke of part of a conquered kingdom. That was the sound of the burden of many, many lives.


    ¡°So what is it then that you want of me? You do not expect me to aid you in some sort of uprising, do you?¡± He asked. Edwin shook his head. ¡°No no, it¡¯s quite far from that. Brother, I have a question for you. Why do you seem to think that we¡¯re some sort of sinister pack of creatures bent on dirtying your hands?¡± He asked.


    Warren scowled a bit when Edwin called him brother. Suddenly so familiar. That made the hair on his neck stand up. His sweet tone and friendly nature made him seem even more untrustworthy. Everything in his gut told him that these were the actions of a traitor. The type of people he had learned to be most wary of growing up. People who spoke tenderly and with good will either wanted to bed you or use you. Neither of those outcomes particularly drew his fancy in this case.


    ¡°You had been doing such a good job containing your thoughts, dear Brother. What happened?¡± He asked, cocking a brow at Warren. Warren pursed his lips a bit. ¡°You sound more like a suitor trying to woo me than a witch,¡± He asserted in a rather sharp tone.


    ¡°And what is a Witch supposed to sound like? If you¡¯re looking for someone who''s a bit more of a storybook horror please, I implore you, have this conversation with my Mistress instead,¡± He said, waving his hand back towards the manor.


    To Warren that sounded like another threat, and he was getting tired of being threatened in his own him. Edwin had been helpful. He¡¯d offered him the books, helped him with his troubles in translating Theban and hand answered every question he had asked. It was like that facade and been washed away by the hold of the temple men and the wine of the party. A chilling switch between Lord and Witch.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    With a quick tug, Warren felt himself pulled towards Edwin. A single finger had looped around the tie of his cravat but it held him solidly in place. His whole body had turned to stone and he had no might or will to move it. He was pinned beneath Edwin¡¯s steady gaze.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t answered my question, Brother. What makes you think witches are vile?¡± he asked. The darkness of the garden wrapped him in a suffocating blanket of fear.


    ¡°Witches kill,¡± He managed to eke out.


    ¡°As do you, maybe not directly, but you host a squad of the imperial guard, and they have the authority to kill. Under your orders I am quite sure they¡¯ve made use of that authority,¡± Edwin swung back at his question with ease.


    ¡°It¡¯s different, you¡¯re not like us,¡± He insisted.


    ¡°Brother we ARE you,¡± Edwin replied, releasing him from his grasp. His muscles immediately contracted from the strain he¡¯d put on them. He stumbled a bit, threatening to fall. Edwin caught him and steadied him, helping him upright again. ¡°I¡¯m simply a little farther down my path then you are. We are not some strange creature. We have not abandoned life or happiness or our souls in exchange for power. We opened our eyes, the same as you are doing at this very moment. Those books are not otherworldly writings, those are the words of your Sisters, reaching out to you and speaking to you the same way they¡¯ve spoken to many others,¡± he said.


    Warren fell silent, that scowl set on his face. If he had no ill will what was all this pageantry then? Why the fear, why the secrets. Why walk amongst the shadows, hiding from the truth? Why not be honest? It was too much to believe that they were cut from the same cloth and shaped into men.


    The disappointment was wrought across Edwin¡¯s face. ¡°Come here,¡± he said, sitting at the side of the fountain. ¡°How far into Rowena¡¯s grimoire have you read?¡± he asked. When Warren refused to sit he snagged his cuff and pulled him down. Just as earlier his body immediately complied with the will of someone other than it¡¯s owner. ¡°Don¡¯t be stubborn, how far?¡± he repeated. ¡°I¡¯ve read it all,¡± Warren relented.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so hard, was it?¡± He asked. Taking Warren¡¯s hand, he guided it to the water. ¡°When I met Rowena she was just like you. Inspired to know everything she could. Knowledge was the greatest currency and she was determined to roll in its wealth.¡± Warren had been forced to give up fighting him and let him move his hand. His touches were skilled and practiced. They were the patient hands of a teacher.


    Edwin took a single one of Warren¡¯s fingers and dipped it into the water. ¡°That¡¯s why the Mistress believed her book would speak to you the strongest,¡± he said, waiting for the water to become still again. ¡°I bought that book from a private merchant,¡± Warren insisted, watching the water as well. It felt cool and calming, like a quiet voice whispering sweet words. ¡°You went searching for knowledge, who were we to stop you? We only made sure that the book that reached you was one you would make use of,¡± He said.


    Silence embraced the pair. Nothing around them but the sounds of the night. insects called to each other. The wind played about the bushes, twisting and turning between their leaves. The smell of spring hung heavy in the air, the scent of rain and flowers and sweetgrass all mixed in a tranquil perfume. It was practically hypnotizing. Warren¡¯s breaths became shallow and slow, his gaze light and drifting. ¡°There you go, you¡¯re learning,¡± Edwin cooed. ¡°Your heart is beating with the breath of the garden. Now, take what you learned, that knowledge you¡¯ve sought after, and use it. Breath now, careful, purposeful breaths. Feel the wind in your lungs, the water in your blood, the soil in your bones. Direct your breath back to your fingertips, to the water. Understand your body and it¡¯s connection to the rest of the world.¡±


    Warren was reacting now without much thought. He took a sharp, deliberate breath, feeling the pulse of the water at his fingertips. He took another. And one more. His heart beat in time with his breaths. Once, Twice, Three times. Like the beating of a drum.


    Edwin¡¯s smile grew wide. ¡°Look now, Little Brother, open your eyes.¡± Those sweet words drifted to Warren¡¯s ear, drawing his attention as he looked down. Little waves left his finger in ripples, splashing against the edges of the fountain. His eyes widened and he jumped back, ripping his hand out of the water and stumbling backward. Warren¡¯s back slammed to the ground as he fell. He felt incorrigible dizziness as he laid on the ground of the garden, lifting his hand to his eyes. He was trembling, he couldn¡¯t stop. He wanted to cry out in fear.


    No. It wasn¡¯t in fear.


    ¡°Ha!¡± A startled cry left the young Lord as he laid on his back, eyes fixed on the sky. ¡°Haha! Ahahah!¡± He cried out in laughter, sitting up, staring at his own hands. It wasn¡¯t fear. It was a shocking joy. A terrifying elation. The type of satisfaction that took his heart and body and crushed it under the weight of its awesome might. He was terrified of his wonder. This feeling of absolute delight wrapped him up and threatened to choke him. ¡°I-I...I-I did¡­.Ahah! I did that?¡± He looked up at Edwin, who leaned over, offering him a hand. There was a certain pride on his face as he bent down to help him off the ground. ¡°You did,¡± He said, hauling him to his feet with an easy tug. ¡°Congratulations little brother, you¡¯ve taken your first step down your path. Cheers here¡¯s to many more steps,¡± he said with generous encouragement. Warren was trembling, but he couldn¡¯t stop laughing.

 Bloody Ring

    Chapter 10: Bloody Ring


    Edwin sat himself on the edge of the fountain, watching contently as Warren enjoyed the freshness of his experience. He¡¯d walked in circles for a few moments, just looking at his hands and laughing. He¡¯d stopped to stare in wonder at the world around him, looking at each blade of grass and each star in the sky through crispy, new eyes. He started babbling to himself a little as well, under his breath. It was near incoherent to the Witch, but he didn¡¯t stop him. It was endearing to watch this Little Brother''s happiness. It¡¯d been so long since Edwin had first opened his eyes. He could hardly recall the feeling of the first time he truly understood the strings of his soul beneath his skin. The only thing he could remember was his Mistress¡¯s soft eyes and warm smile as she congratulated him.


    He let himself drift in the pleasantness of that memory. It was such a simpler time back then. There was danger, sure. Being a witch, to his memory, had never been a safe path of enlightenment to follow. However back then it was much more in your face, no one hid their hatred. There was no fear of being dragged out of your bed at night. The Temple wasn''t this militant enemy. It was just face spitting and the occasional beat down. People didn¡¯t fear them out of disgust for ¡®treading alongside the gods¡¯ or whatever nonsense they claimed now. It was a simpler, more primal anger. The madness was easier to control back than. Back when it was just him, and his Mistresses, and a handful of brothers and sisters.


    He forced himself from his thoughts, reaching down and dragging himself painfully back to reality. ¡°We should get back soon. If we don¡¯t your friend will call the hunters on me himself,¡± Edwin said, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up. Warren stopped his circles, looking over to the Witch Lord. The young man had completely forgotten about the party. Edwin couldn¡¯t help but smile at that. That type of joy took over your whole being. No wonder he¡¯d forgotten.


    He started walking, his new Little Brother by his side. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to show Gil. Once he sees it...once he experiences it he¡¯ll truly understand! This is wonderful,¡± he laughed, opening and closing his hands.


    ¡°Calm down now. You don¡¯t want to ale-¡± He felt a stinging in his cheek as something smacked his head sideways. He suddenly stumbled into Warren, catching his balance.


    ¡°Lord Ross, are you alright? What- are you bleeding?¡± He asked. It was hard to see in the dark garden, forcing Warren to lean in to get a look. Edwin pulled his hand away from his cheek, looking at the blood on his fingers, running his thumb across it, before a sharp, heated gaze fell on the building. His eyes narrowed as he felt a bubbling rage swim inside his chest.


    ¡°What the hell happene- Lord Ross!¡±


    Warren¡¯s shouts were already behind him as he tore off running for the mansion. Someone had just made a horrible, horrible mistake. Someone had laid a hand on his Mistress.


    *____*


    Gil wasn¡¯t sure what in the world was happening.


    One moment he¡¯d stood up to go see where his brainless master had run off to after promising he¡¯d make safer decisions. He¡¯d stood up to move to the other room where he knew more of the champagnes and wines were. He looked around the people in the room, trying to see if he could pick Warren out of the bunch. He wasn¡¯t happy when he couldn¡¯t. Worry and fear filled him with a sense of dread. He could feel himself beginning to panic as he looked around for Warren, checking another of the parlors, the hall, even the terrace, but he couldn¡¯t see him.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    He turned around, wanting to go alert the guards, but the next thing he knew there was a loud commotion taking over the foyer of the manor. He could hear Mrs. Windsworth shouting.


    ¡°Sir you can¡¯t just barge in here like this! The young Lord is having a private affair! How did you even get past the guards?¡±


    Gilbert rounded the corner, and there was the old housekeeper, trying to keep that priest, Rudolph, from barging his way into the party. The music had stopped, everyone had fallen silent. Murmurs and whispers drifted around the room like soft petals on a breeze. Words spoken softly and in private, but in this room, with these people, those were words that moved the shape of the Empire. Gil had no idea where Warren was but he had to get ahold of the situation.


    The priest and two of his thuggish friends. Warren had found out recently they were recently told were hired ¡®enforcers¡¯. Enforcers his ass they were no doubt just some gang from around Kingswallow.


    The group had made their way into the parlor where Warren and the others had been moments ago. Lord Withrop had risen from his seat. He was a mountain of a man, well trained with a sword. Had he not been a Lord he may have found himself a commander of the Imperial forces. There was a reason that duels seemed to follow him.


    ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this!¡± Gilbert demanded, catching his breath a little.


    ¡°Oh Mr. Greeves, there you are! I don¡¯t know where the young Lord is but this man just barged his way through the front doors! I don¡¯t know where the guards are or how they got here, but they won¡¯t wait! He¡¯s quite rudely demanding to see the young Lord, even when I told him to wait in one of the sitting rooms.¡± She blustered out.


    Gilbert was nervous at their presence. They¡¯d barged in here for...for them? He swallowed the lump in his through pushing down his anxieties with it. ¡°Sir, I¡¯m going to have to ask you to leave immedia-¡±


    Gilbert was seized by the collar and pulled close to the Priest. ¡°Under the authority of the Temple, I demand to speak with the Governor or the Assistant Governor in regards to the recent deaths of three Temple priests and the falsified report.¡± Gilbert felt himself go pale when he was grabbed.


    ¡°Unhand me, Sir, the official report decided that there was no more need for te-¡± Gilbert couldn¡¯t get a word in edgewise with this man. He was furious and had forgone the rules of courtesy between the Temple and the government. Most importantly, he was embarrassed, and a man afraid of losing face was a man at his most dangerous


    ¡°Listen here,¡± he growled, pulling Gilbert towards him. No one had intervened yet. A room full of people and no one had bothered to step up on his behalf!


    ¡°That poor excuse for an investigation made a mockery of the Temple. Those men''s¡¯ souls will not find peace in the warmth of Cors until this wrong is righted. Do you see this?¡± He asked, holding a small, thin piece of stone in front of him. ¡°This was on the body of one of our priests. Look at it!¡± He held it close to Gilbert¡¯s face. ¡°This should be proof enough!¡± He shouted.


    ¡°A-a piece of cobblestone?¡± Gilbert asked. ¡°Are you a madman? How does a piece of cobblestone prove anything?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Cobblestone!¡± He shook Gilbert. ¡°This is the scale of a familiar!¡± he shouted at him. Whispers and murmurs broke out amongst the crowd that had gathered. Gilbert tried desperately to push him away one more time. ¡°Y-you¡¯re raving!¡±


    A lace gloved hand came to meet the one that was holding onto his collar. He looked to the side. ¡°Sir, you are making a mockery of your Temple right now, don¡¯t you think?¡± Lady Ross asked. Those molten gold eyes pinned themselves on the priest. The companion of Lord Ross? That meant she surely had to be a-

 Bloody Ring pt 2

    The sound of a smack rang out through the quiet room. Gilbert''s eyes went wide. The Priest, out of anger backhanded the Lady with the full force of his god. The sun emblem ring on his finger dragged across her face leaving a neat cut on her cheek. She''d fallen to the ground with the force of his hit. Stunned, the young woman stayed like that for a moment, before she lifted herself up, running the gloved hand against the cut, pulling it back to see blood staining the delicate fabric. She ran her thumb against it before those eyes turned to meet the Rudolph''s again.


    A shiver ran down Gilbert''s spine. The cold intensity of her stare hadn''t wavered. It looked like Lady Ross been stung by a bug, not slapped by a priest. She locked the insolent man where he stood with an invisible hand. Moments passed and the room stood stopped in time. The swirling gold in her eyes chilled.


    "This has gone far enough!"


    Finally! Warren returned from where ever he was hiding. Lord Ross stormed in just a ahead him, rushing to Lady Rosses side when he saw her sprawled out on the ground. Kneeling down beside his lady, he reached out with a shaky hand, caressing the cut on her cheek. Something stirred in his expression as he felt her blood on his fingertips. "I''m so sorry, my Lady," He whispered to her. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to shield her from a nonexistent threat. Lady Ross leaned in towards him, her lips near his ear. "It''s just a cut, Edwin," she muttered back. Lord Ross wasn''t soothed by those words. " I let an insignificant piece of trash lay his hands on you, I''m so sorry."


    Warren strutted past the two, yanking the priest''s hand off Gil''s collar and shoving him back. When had Warren gotten so strong?


    "I would appreciate you keep your hands off my Aid," he spat, before turning to Gil. "Are you alright?" He asked. "F-fine... I- I''m Fine. Where were you?" the young servant stuttered out. Warren gave him a soft smile. "We''ll talk about that later," He said, before facing Rudolph once more. "I think it''s about time you leave," He scowled. As he moved towards him, the two enforcers stepped up to block him. "I will not leave until you''ve handed over the report and retract that ludicrous investigation!" He sounded like a madman now.


    "I don''t think you understand the position you''re in now," Lord Ross interjected, helping his Lady to her feet. "You attacked my wife and you drew blood. Now, I am new to the judicial system of the empire, but in the Seth Kingdom the assault of a Duchess by a commoner is a serious crime. Lord Salphus, if I may inquire, what is the punishment for attacking a Noble Lady?" He asked, though despite his question being directed at Warren, his eyes never left the Priest. Never wavering. He looked like a snake poised for the perfect strike. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Gilbert moved his gaze nervously to Warren. He could do nothing but watch. Whatever fear for the inquisitor Warren had earlier was gone. He seemed confident, untouchable. "Our laws are similar to yours. If blood is drawn then the punishment for the crime is death, carried out at your discretion, Lord Ross."


    "T-This is absurd!" Rudolph howled. "Of conspiracy and heresy!" He cried out. The rat had been cornered. "The Temple will not have any of this....this...absolute crockery!"


    "Absolute crockery?" Lord Salphus chuckled. It was a strange sound to come out of his master in this circumstance. "I have here....oh...forty or fifty witnesses," he said, gesturing to the room full of young nobles and officials. "And let''s see, the judgement of how many governors?" He asked.


    A still fell amongst the gathering. They couldn''t believe he wanted representative''s of the Governor to step forward against the Temple. Accusing the Temple amounted to political suicide! It didn''t matter how well respected House Salphus was. This was not the time to draw the line of friend or foe. Or at least that''s what Gil had assumed would happen. Lord Withrop, however, didn''t much seem to care for the repercussions.


    "I will judge on behalf of Sorswift," Lord Withrop said, stepping forward. Murmurs rippled across the group.


    "I will judge on behalf of Saffron Coast," The second son of another Governor said, pushing forward out of the crowd.


    Warren smiled. That smile reminded him all too much of Lord Ross''s. When had Warren found himself such an ally?


    "And I will judge on behalf of Kar. So that''s three States, all finding you guilty of assault. If I were you, good sir, I would be praying to Cors that Lord Ross or Lady Ross choose to have mercy on you," He said.


    Gilbert knew this was a power move. While Warren was not lying about the law, and Lord Ross was within his right to punish his Lady''s assailant (especially with three states agreeing on the judgement) it would be a bold, yet incredibly stupid move. Making the decision as a Lord, a Husband, or as a... whatever he was... There would be massive consequences for executing the Inquisitor, no matter the reasoning. However, that look in Lord Ross''s eye was too vengeful to be ignored.


    Silence took hold of the room. Anticipation now clung to the room like a strong perfume, moving from one guest to the next. Lord Ross seemed furious, as to be expected of a Duke of Seth. Everyone knew that in that kingdom the Dukes and Marquises clenched the power of the stake in tight fists of long-standing Houses.


    "I shall relent today, and seek no retribution," Lord Ross said finally, relaxing a bit as he held Lady Ross to his side." I only ask that he be removed from the premises. This spectacle ruined what is supposed to be such a pleasurable evening."

 Bloody Ring Pt 3

    Sitting beside her, Lord Ross turned to face his Lady. He took a lock of her hair between his fingers, twirling it around his thumb. The carriage rocked gently as it made its way away from the manor, leaving the chaotic party behind. They¡¯d stayed for a bit, but Lord Ross¡¯s anger had become hard to hide. His Lady had feigned exhaustion and they excused themselves early.


    ¡° My Mistress...I¡¯m so truly sorry.¡± His words were heartbreakingly soft. Edwin looped the strands of her hair around his finger, gently stroking it. His Lady didn''t stop him. She knew he enjoyed playing with her hair like that.


    ¡°You have nothing to apologize for Edwin, it was just a cut, I told you that. I¡¯ve suffered far worse than a back handed slap from an ignorant man,¡± She assured him.


    It didn¡¯t matter, sorrow and guilt filled his body to the brim. He bowed his head to her shoulder, hiding his face from her. ¡°I told you that you should¡¯ve brought Crow with you. Crow¡¯s insufferable but that priest¡± he nearly spat the word out. ¡° He would¡¯ve lost his arm before he had a chance to damage your beautiful skin.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being irrational again Edwin. What good would Crow have done? Why let him have one of Snake¡¯s scales when you could just drop a whole familiar in front of him?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°Still-¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Her finger found his chin and she lifted his head towards her. He immediately averted his gaze. How could someone as worthless as him dare look upon her right now. She smiled so kindly at him. It was so soft, so nurturing. A smile that understood your pain and embraced you despite everything terrible about you.


    ¡°Don¡¯t. I broke my promise to you, I don¡¯t want kindness for that.¡±


    ¡°My Darling, look at me,¡± She said, reaching up and brushing some of his loose hair behind his ear. Delicate touches that always made his heart flutter. ¡°When you look at me with such a pitiful expression, it makes my heart sink,¡± She cooed to him. Such words, such warmth. ¡°You know your confidence is one of my favorite things about you. How could a man who makes such a face be my love?¡± Her smile was so tender. He didn¡¯t see it often from her. He never had. It wasn¡¯t something she gave away carelessly, but when she graced him with that smile he could do nothing but comply with whatever she asked of him. He relaxed a bit. ¡°Will you forgive me than? For breaking my promise to you?¡± he asked her.


    She gave a small chuckle in response to the question. ¡°So long and you still haven¡¯t changed,¡± The promise seemed so silly to her all those years ago. She¡¯d always been stronger than him, but he was the one who promised her safety. To this day he held himself to that. ¡°Yes Edwin, I will forgive you,¡± She said. If he still held onto that vow, the promise meant the world to him, and she wasn¡¯t going to dishonor his affections by telling him that he hadn¡¯t broken that promise. She knew instead that forgiveness would soothe him. Even if she felt there was nothing to forgive. ¡°Now my Darling, it¡¯s been a long night, and I¡¯m quite tired. Will you rest with me?¡± She asked.


    Edwin¡¯s heart warmed as he wrapped his arm around her, bringing her against him so she could rest her head on his chest. ¡°Of course, Mistress,¡± he said, holding onto this moment for as long as he could. Everything he was, everything he had was thanks to her. How could he ever deny her commands? She was more precious to all of them than any jewel. No wealth or land could hold a candle to her value in the eyes of the coven. He could give up the entire Ross dukedom and it would amount to nothing in comparison to her.


    As she slept against him he stroked the cut on her cheek. That fool. That priest hadn¡¯t escaped him. The coven would seek their own retribution. He had no interest in punishing him by the laws of the empire. He¡¯d give judgment not as the Duke of Seth, but as the Right Hand of the inner circle. He wanted to find the witches? Edwin would be sure he did.

 Veiled Eyes

    When the Governor had returned home, there had been an absolute uproar. This wasn¡¯t to be stood for. The Temple looked at the line, spat on it, and then leaped across it. Barging into his home and making wild demands, threatening his son and striking a woman in his home?! This time the Governor did more than bluster.


    Gilbert looked uneasily across the carriage to Warren. Kingswallow was only a two day¡¯s ride from the capital of Kar. That was part of the reason that Kar was so wealthy. It covered two or three major trade routes into the heart of the empire. Its closeness was an essential part of their loyalty as well. House Salphus had learned generations ago that if they were going to enjoy the fruits of the empire they need to not bite the hand that fed them. So far that had worked out in their favor. They offered major financial support in times of war, offering a good give and take between House Salphus and the royal family.


    ¡°You look distressed again Gil,¡± Warren said with a smile that Gil believed had no right to be there.


    ¡°I¡¯m distressed because you¡¯re not. We¡¯re going to the capital to place a grievance with the Temple DIRECTLY to the Emperor. We¡¯re going into the depths of the lion''s den with flank steaks strapped to our back, how can you sit there so relaxed?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m not worried,¡± Warren said with a frustrating amount of blind confidence.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been since the party, and that¡¯s what worries me. What happened when you disappeared, Warren? You haven¡¯t explained that to me yet,¡± he said.


    Warren just continued to give him that assured smile. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you right now, but I¡¯m so eager to finally do so,¡± He said, leaning forward and putting his hand on Gilbert¡¯s knee. ¡°I want to share this with you so badly¡­¡±


    Gil¡¯s cheeks flushed, Maybe it was this strange confidence, but he seemed quite handsome when he smiled like that. His Lord had always been a handsome young man, sure, but Gilbert had never really thought about it before. Maybe he was just noticing now.


    He coughed a little, loosening the red silk tie around his neck. It felt tight for a moment.


    He sat back in the seat again, crossing and uncrossing his legs. They were almost to the Palace. Maybe a few more hours. They wouldn¡¯t be seen right away. After all, the emperor was a very busy man, and this probably wasn¡¯t top on his priority list. Honestly, he was probably only seeing to this personally because the request of Governor Salphus directly. If it were anyone else they¡¯d probably just send verdict via a staff member and that verdict would probably amount to ¡®play nice you two¡¯. Ahh...this was going to be so nerve-wracking.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    *____*


    ¡°Lord Ross, Lord Ross!¡± There was a continuous knock on the door to his office, but he was lost in thought, staring at the books and scratch notes that were laid out on the table in front of him. Everything he could possibly get his hands on from other Covens. They weren¡¯t as forthright as he would¡¯ve liked, but what could he do? He could only make requests to other hands as a hand. Their coven was highly respected but these days witches were, for good reason, incredibly suspicious. It was hard to get a beaten dog to trust you.


    ¡°Lord Ross I¡¯m coming in!¡± The door was shoved open with a huff. The boisterous young woman marched over to him, hands on her hips. Still refusing to raise his head she slammed her hand on the table. ¡°Duke Edwin Ross!¡± She snapped at him. The papers shuffled a bit, running away from her palm. Finally, he raised his head. ¡°Your guests are here,¡± she reported, clapping her hands gently.


    He couldn¡¯t help but smile at her. ¡°Ah, is it that time? Alright, thank you, Hattie,¡± He said standing from his desk. Hattie oversaw the operations of the Ross Dukedom and estate. Her family had served that purpose loyally for generations. The title of the role would change, depending on the need. Since ¡®Duke Ross¡¯ obviously couldn¡¯t live forever, sometimes it was a son who acted as ¡®Lord Ross¡¯ or a daughter took the place as ¡®Lady Ross¡¯ when his Mistress didn¡¯t feel like presenting herself. With both him and the role of ¡®Lady of the house¡¯ filled, Hattie filled the role of a cousin, but in truth, she did far more than that. It was infrequently that Edwin could commit himself fully to the duties of his Lordship so in this case, one might consider this young woman the ¡®Shadow Duke¡¯. She enacted laws and rulings from behind his pen.


    ¡°Did the Left hand accept the invitation?¡± He asked, walking with her out of the office. ¡°She did, however, she doesn¡¯t seem happy, though I suppose Ms. Rowena never seems happy,¡± She said with a somewhat exasperated sigh.¡±No, I suppose she does not,¡± He replied, chuckling a bit. ¡°But the others are all here as well, they¡¯re in the east parlor waiting for you. I had the servants bring in some tea,¡± she said.


    Those who worked in his household and were not members of the Erafeal family, like Hattie, were almost entirely young witches themselves. Anyone who was still too young and unequipped to live on their own, or were unhappy with how secluded and lonely the coven grounds could come to work for him. A wayward shelter for any soul who had opened her eyes and found herself completely lost in the woods.


    ¡°You¡¯re always so on top of things. What would I do without you, Hattie?¡± The young lord asked, fixing his cuffs as he made his way down the hall. ¡°Make sure all the young ones stay out of the east side for now. You know how brutal these circle discussions can become. We wouldn¡¯t want to scare any of them away,¡± He laughed a bit.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure Sammie and the more seasoned maids attend to the room,¡± She said, stopping as he made his way towards the parlor. ¡°You¡¯re a gem!¡± He called to her, flashing her a smile that dazzled many, but not Ms. Hattie. She was too used to his antics. She just shook her head at him as the flutter of the black tails of his coat disappeared around a corner.

 Veiled Eyes Pt. 2

    With the spirited lady out of site, Edwin reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a thin black lace veil. He ran it from one temple to the other, and it held itself in place like a shadow just covering his eyes. A uniform of sorts. When making moves as a group out in the world, they wore them to protect themselves if a poor soul caught sight of them. However, in cases such as meetings between the members of the circle, it acted to separate personal feelings from coven matters. They all lived and worked together. They knew each other, but by covering their eyes they were saying ¡®Here I am not an individual, I am a member and mind of the coven¡¯.


    He pushed open the door to the parlor, greeted with the unwelcoming and heavy silence that covered the room like thick smoke. This was going to be a long meeting they were already upset.


    ¡°I apologize for my tardiness, I was reviewing some reports from the families to the south,¡± He said, closing the door behind him. Twenty or so Witches, mostly women, sat in a circle around the room.


    ¡°You call us here and then you are late to your own meeting?¡±


    Ah yes. His eyes fell on the young woman sitting prominently to the front of the circle. Appearing a mere fourteen or fifteen years old, her looks were not to be taken lightly. She was an incredibly powerful witch. Sometimes newer members of the coven would forget such things.


    ¡°There it is! The gentle chiding of the wise Left hand, I feel like it has been too long,¡± he said, using honey to cover the bitterness of his words. Naturally, her job was to oppose him. The Right and the Left Hand were the proverbial angel and devil on the shoulder of the coven¡¯s leader. However, Ms. Rowena seemed to take particular joy in tossing his words to the side whenever she could.


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Another woman spoke up in irritation. ¡°You called the Circle without the Mistress or explanation.¡± The circle was essentially the government of the coven. It consisted of a few dozen of those witches dedicated to the Coven who wished to do more than just live with their eyes open. These witches were the soldiers and scholars that helped them stay protected and to grow.


    ¡°The Mistress is not required to be at every meeting. This is not the first time she hasn¡¯t attended.¡± He said.


    ¡°Has her lack of attendance got something to do with her being injured on your watch?¡± Ms. Rowena¡¯s voice was serious now, bringing in the consensus of many of the other members. She was more on edge than normal. His plans must have really made her feel like she was trying to recover a kicked hornets'' nest.


    If she was going to be serious, then he would as well. Edwin sat back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, folding his hands in his lap. ¡°It does,¡± he admitted.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    One of the girls to his left stood in her chair. ¡°Is that why we haven¡¯t heard from her in several days, Elder Brother!?¡± Angrily accusing him of letting something heinous happen to her.


    ¡°Calm Yourself, Sister.¡± The charm was gone now, and it was simply commanding. He would not have things growing chaotic this early in the meeting. ¡°She sustained no serious injury. You know that the Mistress grows weary from time to time, she is simply resting. I attended to her this morning myself, so be assured she is fine,¡± He said.


    ¡°Then what¡¯s your excuse?¡± Ms. Rowena targeted him again. She must¡¯ve been quite worried. Normally she only got this harsh when Anya was involved. Had it just been the two of them he would''ve made a jab about such sour words coming from the lips of such a sweet girl, but he would not assault her reputation in front of the circle for something so petty.


    He closed his eyes behind the veil, letting out a slow sigh through his nose. ¡°I have none,¡± He said. ¡°While by my side, a Priest laid a hand on her. Because of my carelessness, she bled. I have no excuse for my lack of responsibility.¡± His admittance brought an uproar amongst the circle. The word Priest echoed around him as if being shouted by a choir of mockingbirds. Tea hadn¡¯t even had a chance to cool and the tension of the room had become so thick he wasn¡¯t sure how well his words would cut it.


    Edwin slowly raised his hand. As he did the chattering amongst the witches melted away until there was nothing left in the room but still air. There might have been consequences if a regular member had silenced other¡¯s voices, but he had a little more leeway. Aware of what he had done, the members'' eyes drew to him, demanding answers even without the power of their voices.


    ¡°I understand your worry and confusion, Brothers and Sisters, but we must not think so lowly of our Mistress. While it is our duty to protect her as the mother of the coven, we are all well aware that if she had truly wished to show her power, she would¡¯ve.¡± He slowly returned the voices to their owners before he caused an outbreak and the poor maids were forced to come in and clean up while they were still talking.


    ¡°The reason I called this meeting is so we can put together a plan to deal with this priest, to seek retribution of the blood spilled,¡± he said.


    ¡°If a Priest found the Mistress we need to make an attack on the whole Temple!¡± Came the call of a man behind him.


    ¡°Attack?¡± A woman stood next to Ms. Roween. ¡°We need to pull back and wait for everything to quiet down. We can not risk the Temple finding our coven. Let¡¯s not forget what happened to our Sisters in the north less than half a century ago! An entire coven, slaughtered because of recklessness!¡±


    ¡°We can not just let this affront go! We need to deal out punishment!¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± Edwin interjected. ¡°I believe you¡¯re right, Sister, it would be unwise to recklessly go after the Temple. The priests do not believe he struck a witch, they believe he struck Lady Ross, and thanks to that Incident they¡¯re attention is currently locked against one of the governors of the Empire. However, we also can not simply let a priest who has dared lay a hand on the coven go free,¡± he said.


    ¡°So what is it you are suggesting, Brother?¡± The Left hand asked.


    ¡°They are not close to the Coven however, they are very close to a new Little Brother of ours. I have been trying to lure the Temple away, but they¡¯re quite hell-bent on their path. I believe we can kill two birds with one stone. Seek atonement as well as finding out what the Temple¡¯s plans,¡± He settled into her chair again, his lips spreading to a predator¡¯s smirk. ¡°I suggest a hunt.¡±

 A timely Report

    The palace felt like a city in and of itself. It was hard to believe such a building existed. Halls as big as streets decorated in paintings and drapery of blue and gold. Corridors that ran like alleyways amongst room after room after room each more finally adorned than the last. Gil had to wonder how many servants the palace employed. He¡¯d always thought the manor to have a large staff, about 25 of them, himself included, however in such a grand place, surely there had to be hundreds of them in house staff alone!


    They had arrived a few days earlier. Gil had helped Warren prepare a report and go over the events at the party. He¡¯d gathered statements from three or four other Nobles who had been there as well as letters on behalf of the two other states that had stood beside him for judgment. Along with Lord Ross¡¯s letter, Gil had sent all that information ahead to the Emperor¡¯s office so that he could review them ahead of time.


    Early that morning they had been informed that they¡¯d meet with the Emperor that afternoon and had been picked up just before noon. Gilbert was more worried about observing etiquette in the palace, especially around so many staff and aids of the empire, but two paces behind Warren felt like such an odd place to be. Particularly when he wasn¡¯t running behind him trying to stop him from doing something reckless.


    ¡°Will I be going in with you?¡± Gil asked. Honestly, he wouldn¡¯t lose a moment of sleep if Warren said no. There was nothing appealing about having to stand before the ruler of the reaching lands. He completely content remaining behind the curtain for this.


    ¡°You were the one to witness the affront to Lady Ross, not me. His Majesty may want to ask you some questions,¡± Warren said. Gilbert had to suppress the urge to mutter something under his breath. They were in public and there was already enough to worry about without having to defend himself against allegations of slandering the empire.


    Warren gave him a comforting smile over his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯ll be an easy meeting, I assure you,¡± He said. They had approached a set of ornate double doors, guarded on either side. A servant announced their entrance as they were escorted into the audience hall. In the center of glistening of white marble and deep blue drapery sat the emperor. Despite his older age, he held himself with quite the high air of dignity. He smiled when he saw Warren.


    ¡°Ahh, young Lord Salphus. It feels as though the last time I saw you, you were still running up and down the halls chasing your father,¡± He chuckled a bit.


    ¡°Time certainly has passed quickly, your Majesty.¡± Warren responded like a proper heir to a grand house. He only ever bothered to act like this in front of such important people. Gilbert didn¡¯t miss the switch.


    Warren bowed at the waist, Gil quickly mimicking the act. ¡°If I may introduce my aid, Gilbert Greeves, he was the one who witnessed the assault by the Temple Official,¡± He said.


    ¡°If I may, your Majesty, we haven¡¯t even established that any assault took place.¡±


    To their left, dressed in white and gold robes, stood the man who was representing the Temple. Gilbert turned to the speaker and shivered a bit. Before discovering the book all the priests Gil had ever met always seemed to be small bits of sunshine that seemed to be placed on this earth by Cors himself. However, this man looked like an old soldier playing dress up in a priest''s room. Tight-jawed, with a scar deep cut over his mouth and nose, it didn¡¯t seem like the man could feel warm if he stood directly in the center of a fire.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Warren was no stranger to that fact either. He gave the man to his left a small, steady glare. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you, in all your wisdom dear priest, would call a backhanded slap across the face. If that isn''t assault my father is going to need to revisit our laws,¡± he said coolly.


    ¡°I was informed that Lady Ross was impeding on an investigation,¡± The priest returned, turning his eyes back to the Emperor. ¡°But I am not here to start an argument with an arrogant child,¡± He ignored Warren with a swift sweep of the eyes. From the side, it was quite easy to see the anger stirring in the young lord''s eyes. Gilbert could¡¯ve sworn it was getting warmer in the room.


    ¡°Now now, I have already looked over both of the reports that were sent to me. I¡¯m sorry to say it does look like the Temple is at fault. Barging into the Governor¡¯s Manor unannounced, causing a scene, hitting a noblewoman from the Seth Kingdom, and then attacking one of the guards when being escorted out,¡± The Emperor looked over a few of the papers that were handed to him by his aide. ¡°We¡¯ve always had the agreement that the Temple of Cors has the right to conduct its affairs without the influence of the government, and we¡¯ve always allowed certain permissions, but this time those permissions were clearly taken advantage of,¡± The Emperor said.


    ¡°Your Majesty, I sent six priests to Kar to investigate the very credible threat of witches and I come to find that only three returned. After those men, who were simply doing their holy duty, suspiciously turned up dead the government of Kar ruled it street violence and refused to allow us to investigate the matter any further. However, when our dear men were returned to us notes of magick, as well as the evidence of a witch¡¯s servant, a familiar, were found on the bodies. We came to the conclusion that the government of Kar is trying to cover up this threat,¡± He stated firmly.


    ¡°Cover up?¡± Warren asked a touch of malice in his voice.


    ¡°That is quite the accusation to be making Sir,¡± The Emperor cautioned.


    The Priest was solid as stone. Undeterred in his accusation. He believed the words that came from his mouth were words of divine justice. ¡°I understand, and I do not say so lightly but, all of the evidence points a scandal. Your Majesty, I am sure you are already aware that the witches are a threat not only upon our morals and duties as servants of Cors, but to the stability of our dear Empire as well. These witches command power that does not belong in the hands of man. If such a power became politically motivated well, even a small state such as Kar could over through your Majesty.¡±


    The temperature in the room spiked. Gilbert could feel himself starting to sweat. ¡°I will not have you so blatantly accuse my house of plotting treasonous nonsense. House Salphus has been loyal to the crown for generations and will continue to be for generations to come.¡± His words were calm but there was a bitter bite to them as he spoke. It was as close to a shouting match as he could get in the presence of the Emperor.


    ¡°If it were all that simple why is Lord Ross not here pressing for the intervention himself? After all his wife was the one we supposedly assaulted,¡± The Priest said.


    ¡°Lord Ross is the Duke of the second largest dukedom in the Seth Kingdom, who only last year became a part of the Caspian Empire. He¡¯s incredibly busy and while the assault of the Duchess is a part of this matter it more largely pertains to the conduct of the Temple inside Kar.¡±


    ¡°All that said,¡± The Emperor spoke before the two of them could begin throwing verbal punches. ¡°I am more inclined to side with House Salphus. The conduct of the church has been less than diplomatic. I hereby command that the Temple remove itself from Kar for the time being. If new evidence to your investigation rises, then House Salphus shall allow you to continue so long as the matter is handled respectfully.¡±


    Reluctantly the Temple¡¯s representative bowed. ¡°Yes, your Majesty,¡± he said.


    ¡°Thank you for your just and understanding ruling, your Majesty,¡± Warren said. It finally felt like the air was moving through the room again. Gilbert felt relieved that everything had gone relatively smoothly. Luckily, Warren and the priest had begun trading blows in their verbal spare before he could ask any questions. He was almost grateful for that. The Temple would finally be leaving Kar. Things could finally grow peaceful.

 Embers

    Peaceful days surely had fallen across the region. Spring warmed Kar, letting it bloom into its full glory. Farmers began preparing the rich land, artisans took to selling their wares in the streets, and with the Temple being formally requested to leave by the Emperor people no longer felt nervous of their neighbors. If the emperor had demanded it then surely there was no truth behind the accusations.


    One evening, in the middle of his attempts to relax, Warren handed Gilbert a clipped stack of papers. His translations of the Grimoire. Warren had said that he wasn¡¯t going to demand he read them, but since they were already in hot water together, he might as well. He¡¯d said it in his normal joking manner but as he walked out of Gilbert¡¯s room he¡¯d added, almost wistfully, that there was something he wanted to share with Gil so bad it hurt some nights, but he couldn¡¯t do that unless he read.


    It was a¡­strange thing to hear. He¡¯d hidden the papers in the back of his wardrobe, but every so often, throughout the day, his eyes would settle on the otherwise mundane piece of furniture. Every day he got a little closer to wanting to read them.


    Warren had called Gilbert to accompany him into the city. There¡¯d been complaints from some of the city¡¯s businesses about an increase in taxes he wasn¡¯t aware of so Lord Salphus had decided to go investigate the Tax collector.


    These types of trips were always rather troublesome. Warren wasn¡¯t particularly fond of having to put his foot down about things, but he supposed he had no choice anymore. His father would be retiring from the position of Governor in the next few years and he would be taking over. It was important that he establish his authority as much as he could for a smooth transition.


    ¡°My Lord, If you walk around with that look on your face, people are going to assume you¡¯re a half-wit.¡±


    Warren smiled to himself. Even with such chastising words he still managed to sound caring when he said them. Warren had gotten lost in thought as they strolled the street, taking his mind off their destination. ¡°Haha, maybe I can use that to my advantage. If people make the mistake of thinking so lightly of me then I¡¯ll be able to take advantage of them,¡± He grinned to Gilbert. The young man had all the amusement of a Dreger.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the way the future Lord of House Salphus should speak.¡±


    Warren let out a small chuckle of amusement. ¡°Such a dry answer Gil,¡± He teased.


    ¡°My Lord, your poor etiquette aside. . .¡±


    Oh, how Warren hoped Gil never found a new job. No one else would dare speak to him like that.


    ¡°The weather seems to have turned foul, we should find a place to wait it out,¡± Gilbert recommended.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Foul? It was absolutely gorgeous half an hour ago. Storms normally didn¡¯t come into the capital that quickly. Warren¡¯s eyes turned to the sky. Angry grey clouds rolled in from the south, blanketing their city in dreary darkness. He breathed deeply, frowning. The air smelt of pepper and tea tree. There was a soft churning of the wind. If he stood still, he could feel it, moving in slow, deliberate circles across his skin. The air pressure pulsed, slowly and faintly. A heartbeat that no person with their eyes shut would be able to feel. By his side, he turned his palm outward. Slowly he tried to curl his fingers inward, but he was met with sharp resistance like he was holding a stone in his hand. There was nothing natural about this storm.


    As if Cors had heard him the sky opened up and spilled tears to the earth, the wind wailed and screamed. Thunder cracked across the horizon. Gil grabbed Warren''s hand, pulling him into a small shop to their back, ducking into cover. The hair on the back of Warren''s neck was standing up. The storm felt temperamental, lashing out at those below it. He didn¡¯t like this at all.


    ¡°Tsk, you never listen to me,¡± Gilbert complained, squeezing out his hair. Water dripped and pulled from his own clothes, gather in a little puddle at his feet. How had they gotten so wet so quickly? How long had they stood in the rain?


    The pounding of the rain against the roof drowned out most of the chatter in the little store. It seemed to be a shop to buy tickets down the river on a ferry. Warren looked around the office. A ticket counter and a few benches where people waited with their luggage, but otherwise mostly empty. He turned his attention back out the window. Not far from them he could see the docks and the ships that sat upon the wide and winding SinJin river. When¡­.had they walked all the way out here? This was nowhere near the tax collector''s office.


    ¡°You must have something on your mind, you¡¯re not normally quite THIS distracted,¡± Gilbert said, offering him a small towel that he¡¯d gotten from the woman at the ticket counter. ¡°Yes, it seems that way¡­¡± mumbling, he took the towel beginning to pat himself dry. His eyes were glued on the ships outside the window as the rain assaulted the docks and churned the river into a frothy mess.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen the river get like that. We¡¯re going to be stuck here for a while,¡± Gil said, sighing a bit and rubbing the back of his head. Still, when Warren didn¡¯t acknowledge his comment he followed the young lords eyeline out to the docks. He stepped up beside him, squinting a bit.


    ¡°That small ship, with the yellow flag, is that the Temple¡¯s?¡± Gil asked. Warren¡¯s eyes ran up from the water, up the side of the ship, flowing the lines to the tip of the mast. At the top, a white and yellow flag whipped around in the furious wind, yanked side to side in a flurry. The wind seemed like it wanted to rip the flag in half. ¡°They must be leaving today. The river will take them down back to the Temple,¡± Warren muttered. The wind sounded like it was beginning to come in rhythmic waves, a waltz¡¯s tempo being beaten out against the sides of the building. He pressed his hand to the window to feel the throb of the wind. As the storm grew even more fierce and the ships began to bob at their docks a sense of curious calm came over him.


    There was a soft pulling at the back of his mind like he could just barely make out words being said in the distance behind him. He turned to look, but no one seemed to be talking. He felt drawn outside despite the weather. A yearning that felt almost primal in nature, as natural as desire. The itch became too strong to ignore. He opened the door to step back out into the rain, walking towards the dock, a few slow steps at a time.

 Embers pt 2

    The wind was howling in anger. The river was becoming impossibly aggressive, tossing the ships side to side now. Confused moorers were in a frenzy, out on the dock, shouting at each other as the dockmaster tried to get the ships under control and keep them from crashing into each other. The waves lapped viciously against the shores, reaching and crashing across the wooden planks to grab the dock hands who would dare try and tame the ships against its will.


    "...ren...wa...ren!" It was faint, and hardly even scratched the surface of his consciousness. Gilbert had rushed out to him and grabbed his shoulder, shouting at him to get back inside, but the young lord ignored him.


    He breathed in beat with the cry of the storm, eyes fixated, almost in a trance at the dockyards in front of them. Finally, he could hear it, if he listened carefully he could hear it. The song at the heart of the storm.


    "* ...look at the storm on the river bay. I can tell from your eyes¡­*"


    The voice was a whisper that carried across the winds, the sweetest voice he''d ever heard. It wrapped it''s way through him, through his bones. It transfixed him, called him out to watch.


    "*...down by the water, the river bed, somebody calls you, somebody says...swim with the current¡­.float away,*"


    The haunting melody felt calm, satisfying as the ships bobbed and crashed.


    "HOLD HOLD HOLD!! GRAB THE ROPES!" The Dockmaster shouted over the rage as one of the smaller ships rose on a wave, threatening to crumple the dock beneath it.


    A man separated himself from the group, walking towards the far end of the dock. Warren felt a tug on his shoulder as he tried to step a bit closer, but Gil was holding firmly onto him. He was shouting at him now, but he couldn''t hear it over the storm. Excitement was building in his chest with the rising of the crescendo


    "*When that old river runs past your eyes...to wash off the dirt of the riverside¡­.go to the water so very near¡­*"


    The man stopped at the edge of the doc, staring at the waves as they reached up for him. The moorers shouted at him, yelling at him to get away. Warren couldn''t hear their words over the beautiful symphony of the storm, but he knew that was what was being said.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    " *walk to the borders on your own¡­*"


    The dockmaster shouted a curse, sending a dockhand towards him.


    "*Fall in the water just like a stone¡­*"


    "What''s that man doing?! What the-"


    Warren grabbed Gil before he could walk towards him, clutching his arm. "Listen," He insisted.


    "*...Chilled to the marrow, wind to the bones¡­*"


    The man took a step out over the edge of the dock.


    "He''s going to-!"


    "*...Why did you come here on your own?*"


    The man disappeared into the mouth of the waiting river. A forgettable man, forgotten.


    Satisfaction rushed over Warren as he watched the waves pull the priest deep into the water. Men rushed over to the edge of the doc, looking for him in the water, but he was gone now, pulled away from the docs.


    "*...I see how everything is torn...by the river...deep. And I don''t know the way...you''ll come our way...brought by the riverside¡­*"


    He''d never felt such a rush, such a thrill! Watching a wretched creature vanish into the depths, pulled in by the song, how could he ever describe this feeling. His breathing grew heavy as he turned around to face Gil. The young man was terrified. He had some sense of what was going on, Warren knew it. He''d heard the song, at least felt it. Gil was shouting at him, he couldn''t hear it. The storm still raged too strongly and drowned out all over the sound, but Gil looked scared. He shouldn''t have been scared, this was wonderful.


    Gill had clutched his lapels angrily, shaking. His eyes weren''t quite open, that''s what Edwin had said. That''s why he was scared. He didn''t know what he was hearing. Warren took his face, running thumb hand along his cheek to comfort him.


    Gil slapped his hand away, pointing at him now. He was accusing him of something. Warren had felt like all his fears and worries had melted away. His inhibitions were gone. Gil was shouting again now, Warren''s name on his lips, over and over ''warren¡­.warren¡­'' Warren''s eyes lowered to Gil''s lips. He''d always thought there was something special about the slight pout that always sat on his lips.


    He ran his finger along those lips. Now Gil looked surprised, but the fear seemed gone for a moment. His name again, sitting on Gil''s lips. He hooked his arm around Gil, pulling him close. The young man stumbled against him, but Warren held him steady. He could tell Gil hadn''t expected that, but he didn''t push him away either. Warren couldn''t just look at those lips anymore. The storm had cleansed him and his doubts.


    His other hand came to the back of Gil''s neck, pulling him forward as he dipped his head. His name again now, captured against his own lips. Gil gripped at the sides of his coat. Warren could feel him shaking a bit, quivering against him. See, there was nothing to be afraid of. He pulled back from the young man, holding tightly to him. The rain pelted against them, washing over them. He looked down at Gil, panting a bit. The song had drifted away and the storm, satisfied, had ceased its screams. The fear was gone from Gilbert''s face.


    "...Warren¡­"

 Broken Twigs

    The wind whispered slowly through the trees, rustling the leaves and caressing the skirts and coats of the witches who stood, waiting, but the river¡¯s banks. Night had fallen silent along the forest outside of the capital city of Kar. There was stillness in the forest. No croak of a frog or hum of a cicada. No sounds of deer or fox or other nightly creature moving about in search of their nightly meals. The animals could feel the uneasiness in the air as the shadows moved towards the river.


    Clothed all in black, they stood, eyes shrouded beneath the veils, wide-brimmed hats coming to sharp points that fell backward in their own weight. Ceremonial attire for the coming evening. Ritual was important to the Witch. Everything was done with intent, carefully staged and set to shift the words of the world to their liking. Even for this hunt, a wild and passionate event, there would be order and ritual.


    The Circle waited, gathered in small clusters, sitting on fallen trees or standing, boots deep in the tall grace. Living shadows stalked behind some of them, poised for movement at any moment. Young and old, mostly women, they all quietly listened. The river¡¯s hum grew louder as it carried their prey to them.


    Edwin stood beside the Left hand, and she beside her wife, the last member of the inner circle. He was anxious, apprehensive, but brimming with excitement. It had been far too long since they had gotten such a chance. The chance to strike their full power, to show that they were far more powerful as a group then any of their worthless attackers could ever hope to be. A chance to show them what happened when they prayed upon the innocent. A pent up aggression that needed a chance to be released. A chance to return the favor to the one who always protected them.


    A shadow slithered up to Edwin¡¯s side, whispering to him in a low hiss. ¡°He comes, around the bank the river brings him,¡± she reported. His heart beat harder as he spread his lips in a grin. ¡°Good,¡± He said, nodding to Ms. Anya, Ms. Rowena¡¯s wife. She was a beautiful young girl with a sweet disposition. The perfect lure.


    She agreed, walking over to the bed of the river. Pebbles shifted softly beneath her delicate steps as she peered down the dark bank. The outlines of a body came into focus, floating on it¡¯s back, bobbing as it was carried downstream. Closer and closer it drew until the water pushed it to the shore several paces from where Ms. Anya stood. Beside her, a hulking shadow lumbered over, dragging the man from the water and up onto the shore. Tattered yellow and white robes, brown hair, an average face, and an average build. What a lackluster prey.


    The Shadow laid him on his side before retreating. Ms. Anya crouched down beside the man, placing two fingers between his ribs below his sternum. She slowly dragged them upwards. He spasmed and gurgled as her fingers reached his throat before he leaned over and spit out a lung full of water onto the soft black wool of Ms. Anya¡¯s skirt.


    ¡°Oh my,¡± She said softly, a slender hand resting on the man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Are you alright sir?¡± She asked.Stolen story; please report.


    Her voice startled him into reality. He snapped up to look at her. He seemed lost and confused. It was no surprise. From the moment the wind sang to him his thoughts would¡¯ve become fuzzy. It was hard enough for them to ignore the song, none the less the priest it was targeting. He stared at her for a moment as if he couldn''t really get a good grasp on what he was seeing. Well, it was dark after all. ¡°What are...you doing out here in the middle of the night Miss?¡± He asked, trying to get his bearings and get to his feet. She gave a sweet chuckle. ¡°Oh, just a little bit of hunting with my brothers and sisters,¡± She said, standing up, taking a few steps backward. In return, he took a few steps towards her. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be in these woods at night Miss, it¡¯s dangerous,¡± He mumbled out grasping his head as he stumbled to regain his composure. ¡°There are Witches not far from here.¡±


    Gentle laughs echoed from around the two of them as the dazed man looked around, trying to figure out if he had heard them or not. ¡°Oh! You really believe so?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Are you really all that surprised though?¡± Now behind him came the soft disappointment of the left hand.


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Anya nodded a bit. ¡°That¡¯s true, Elder Brother has said that you¡¯ve been looking for us for quite some time.¡±


    The man shuttered, stumbling away from the two.


    ¡° Searching for you!¡± He bumped into a third woman who grinned at him. He spun around to face her as well. ¡°Sister I think you scared him! The poor priest thought we really hadn¡¯t noticed him,¡± The witch said, feigning sympathy. ¡°Poor man of the sun, it must be so hard to see in these shadows,¡± She said, reaching out to touch his face.


    He smacked her hand away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t come any nearer! Don¡¯t touch me you hell beast!¡± There were more chuckles, more laughs. They blended so well into the shadows that all he could see where the flashes of their smiles as they enjoyed his despair. They surrounded him, on all sides. The priest turned with a desperate panic and urge to flee. He only made it a few steps before he tumbled to the ground, caught on the root of a tree. Now the laughter was loud, uninhibited, mocking him and his inevitable misery.


    He tried to get up as quickly as he could, but he¡¯d fallen at the feet of the master of the hunt. Edwin crouched down in front of him, hooking his chin and lifting his head.


    ¡°Poor, Poor, pitiful priest,¡± he cooed, leaning down towards him. ¡°You¡¯re terrified, I can feel the quiver in your bones. Your heart is beating quicker, and your mind is screaming to get away. Looks like that spirit you had during the Equinox is all gone. It¡¯s such a shame.¡± His lips drew near the priest''s ear. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t just sit here trembling,¡± his breath hot as he whispered. ¡°You should probably run.¡±


    The Priest yanked away from him, jumping to his feet. He turned like a top, looking for a break in the circle. Edwin, watching him flail, slowly raised his hand to give a small wave. The circle parted.


    The priest took the bait, darting past the witches and into the forest. ¡°Run priest run! It¡¯s hours until morning! Your sun can¡¯t save you here!¡± He called, laughter flooding behind him. The Right Hand looked over his shoulder. ¡°Snake,¡± He said. The shadow moved behind him. ¡°Yes, Master.¡±


    ¡°Take the others and follow him, make sure he isn¡¯t able to turn back towards the city. We wouldn¡¯t want him being able to sneak away. Do nothing else though. He¡¯ll pay the blood directly to us,¡± Edwin ordered. The Shadow, his familiar, nodded before she and the others melted into the forest.


    ¡°What do you say, Brothers and Sisters, Has he had enough of a head start?¡± Edwin asked. He strode deeper into the forest, the rest following suit behind him. ¡°Let¡¯s start.¡±

 Broken Twigs pt 2

    Cracking branches underfoot, the sound of labored panting, distressed utterances in the dark. The once silent forest now echoed with the chase. Rudolph ran as fast as he could. He tried to find his way back to the capital, but he felt like a needle on a compass that couldn''t find north. He had to have been running in circles, but he had to getaway. He had to live. If he could get to a town, get to other people, the wretches would be too fearful to attack him. He had definitive proof now that they lived in this blasted state. He couldn''t let them rattle him! He had to get away!


    Rudolph took a sharp turn to the left, finding a large branch with his foot. He grabbed the tree next to him for balance. He had to calm his heart. He wouldn¡¯t win if he didn¡¯t have a cool head. He took a deep breath, trying to get a bearing of where he was. As he peered into the darkness, there was movement amongst the trees. Uncertainty and fear swirled inside him again, clouding his judgement. He couldn¡¯t tell if he was really seeing something or if it was his imagination. Either way, he had to run.


    He pushed away from the tree, dashing out into the woods again. More and more he saw movement, forms of people in the shadows chasing after him. Laughs, more of those insidious laughs. He couldn¡¯t figure out what they were doing, just chasing him? Blasted unholy creatures! The laughing echoed around the forest, it was impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from or how many there were.


    He saw them everywhere now, swarming around him like a pack of hyenas. Ugly, beastly demons! He grabbed his knife from his belt. Maybe if he killed one of them then they¡¯d learn their lessons. He saw that movement out of the corner of his eye. With trained, swift action he lunged towards it.


    Suddenly the ground left his feet. He was in the air, floating...no not floating...falling¡­


    He met the ground again, his leg turned underneath him with a sharp snap. Incredible pain coursed through his body as he tumbled down the edge of a bank. He crashed to the ground, crying out as he came to stop in the mud. He heard claps echoing from one side of him to the other. Deliberate claps in an jarring, repeating rhythm.


    Forcing himself to his feet he saw them, scattered in front of him, crouching in the clearing, standing by the treeline, sitting on low hanging branches, those twisted, sick smiles splattered across their faces.


    That man, that wicked man stepped out from amongst them. A man who had fallen into his deeper base desires and followed the witch. They were few and far between, but there were those men who couldn¡¯t keep their wits about them. Those men whose will became clouded by these cunning women with the promise of something special. That Lord was one of them, a slave to his darker needs.


    Rudolph forced himself to up, despite the searing pain in his mangled leg. ¡°You¡­¡± he panted, but pain made it harder to think.


    ¡°You wanted to find the Coven, didn¡¯t you, Mr. Rudolph Stapher? Well, here we are!¡± He jeered.


    ¡°Oh dear, Mr. Stapher, it seems you¡¯ve been hurt!¡± He looked to his left. The first woman who had spoken to him as he came out of the water sat on a low hanging tree branch. That fucking minx! She¡¯d be the first one he got his hands on when he made it out of here. ¡°Tch,¡± he heard an annoyed click. Below the woman stood another, younger girl. At least she¡¯d wiped that filthy smile from her face and looked at him with her true feelings of disgust.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Brother, it does seem Mr. Stapher has begun thinking some cruel things,¡± She said with a vicious hatred in her voice. She was surely too young to play the games the others were playing.


    ¡°Cruel things? That can¡¯t be right, Sister. You wouldn¡¯t do that, would you Mr. Stapher? After all we were quite enjoying ourselves. It would be a pity to have to end the hunt early for something like this.¡± Their tones and their words were as different as light and dark. It brought a burning anger to him to hear them speak so casually, so sweetly knowing full well what they were intending. Nothing but mockery.


    He wasn¡¯t going to listen anymore. He¡¯d deal with the pain later. For now he needed to go get away, needed to escape. He ran as hard as he could, away from the group. He heard the cackling behind him. Damn Witches!


    He ran.


    He ran hard until the pain blurred his mind, but finally he found a clearing. The light of twilight fog was heavy, coating the ground in a thick layer of distortion, but he could see a wooden gate. That was it, he¡¯d found help. He limped towards the gate, his vision was creeping inwards, threatening to take his consciousness from him, but by the glory of the great sun Cors he wouldn¡¯t have it!


    He pushed open the little wooden garden gate, stumbling past it. The fog was thick, and he was too pained to see anything, but he pushed onward. He¡¯d find a front door eventually.


    The fog cleared and he saw it, a country village! Little cottages surrounded by gardens! Blessed by the sun! His heart leapt as he made his way through the garden path of one of the little cottages. He braced himself against the side of the home and veimentally banged on the door. ¡°Please! Is anyone awake please! I am in need of help! I¡¯m injured!¡± He shouted, banging on the door. ¡°Please!¡±


    His heart rose as the door rattled. A older woman opened the door. ¡°Oh dear!¡± She gasped, startled. She opened the door wider and he could see what must¡¯ve been her young son toddling towards her. ¡°Madam! I¡¯m so sorry to alarm you and to wake you this early but you have to help me! It¡¯s not safe to stay out here! I¡¯m being chased by Witches! If you let me in I can protect you don¡¯t worry,¡± He begged desperately. She wasn¡¯t stepping aside, why wasn¡¯t she letting him in. ¡°Ch-chased?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Madam please don¡¯t fe-¡±


    ¡°Oh, Ms. Genevieve.¡± That voice. That voice of that wicked man! Rudolph looked over his shoulder at his slow approach. From the foggy path they all came. Bold of them! Out in the open now! Lord or not he wouldn¡¯t be able to hide now.


    ¡°Madam for the sake of your son-¡±


    ¡°Mr. Edwin, what is going on?¡±


    Did this woman know him? Could she not clearly see who he was? He made no attempts to hide. The black attire, the lace veil, the hat. All of it clearly made him a witch! All of them! A whole coven standing to his back.


    ¡°M-madam¡­¡± she had to listen to him.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry Ms. Genevieve. We weren¡¯t expecting him to go through the gate on his own. I apologize for the disturbance, but don¡¯t worry,¡± that man smiled so sweetly at the woman. ¡°This catch is for the Mistress, so there¡¯s no reason to fret.¡±


    A strong hand found his shoulder. He turned back to the woman, one last hope that she¡¯d see what was happening and help him. ¡°Please,¡± He begged. Why did she look so uncomfortable!


    ¡°If the whole circle is out...is he dangerous?¡± She asked, but she wasn¡¯t asking him, why was she asking that man!


    ¡°Not anymore,¡± he replied with a smile. The pressure on his shoulder pushed onto his broken leg. He let out as the pain became unbearable. ¡°Go take little Liam back to bed,¡± He urged the woman. She nodded and closed the door, leaving him abandoned there. ¡°Now, I do believe you¡¯ve disturbed these poor people enough.¡±


    The pain was too much and the blackness took over. He reached for the door, but his body went limp, falling backwards, and his consciousness was gone.

 Momentary Hiatus

    Hi everyone. Not the chapter you might''ve been looking forward to, but I wanted to let you know that Grimoire will be going on Hiatus until the 1st of August. Japan''s spring semester is coming to an end so my work load right now is a little absurd (I was literally assigned 500 pages of reading this week). Thank you for understanding and check back in a few weeks for the resumed update of Grimoire!


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    .


    .


    .


    .Hi everyone. Not the chapter you might''ve been looking forward to, but I wanted to let you know that Grimoire will be going on Hiatus until the 1st of August. Japan''s spring semester is coming to an end so my work load right now is a little absurd (I was literally assigned 500 pages of reading this week). Thank you for understanding and check back in a few weeks for the resumed update of Grimoire!


    Hi everyone. Not the chapter you might''ve been looking forward to, but I wanted to let you know that Grimoire will be going on Hiatus until the 1st of August. Japan''s spring semester is coming to an end so my work load right now is a little absurd (I was literally assigned 500 pages of reading this week). Thank you for understanding and check back in a few weeks for the resumed update of Grimoire!


    Hi everyone. Not the chapter you might''ve been looking forward to, but I wanted to let you know that Grimoire will be going on Hiatus until the 1st of August. Japan''s spring semester is coming to an end so my work load right now is a little absurd (I was literally assigned 500 pages of reading this week). Thank you for understanding and check back in a few weeks for the resumed update of Grimoire!


    Hi everyone. Not the chapter you might''ve been looking forward to, but I wanted to let you know that Grimoire will be going on Hiatus until the 1st of August. Japan''s spring semester is coming to an end so my work load right now is a little absurd (I was literally assigned 500 pages of reading this week). Thank you for understanding and check back in a few weeks for the resumed update of Grimoire!


    Hi everyone. Not the chapter you might''ve been looking forward to, but I wanted to let you know that Grimoire will be going on Hiatus until the 1st of August. Japan''s spring semester is coming to an end so my work load right now is a little absurd (I was literally assigned 500 pages of reading this week). Thank you for understanding and check back in a few weeks for the resumed update of Grimoire!


    Hi everyone. Not the chapter you might''ve been looking forward to, but I wanted to let you know that Grimoire will be going on Hiatus until the 1st of August. Japan''s spring semester is coming to an end so my work load right now is a little absurd (I was literally assigned 500 pages of reading this week). Thank you for understanding and check back in a few weeks for the resumed update of Grimoire!