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.

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-