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.

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.