Elias POV
The dust of Rebelbub Village still clung to the creases of my cloak, a grim reminder of the shadows I'd had to command to keep the capital from falling. A month of relentless fighting, of summoning horrors to fight horrors, and finally, the spires of Caria stood before us.
I pulled back on the ethereal reins, and my Shadow Horse dissipated into wisps of black smoke, sinking back into the cobblestones.
"Wow, a scent of fresh air," Catherine said,
She stretching her arms and letting out a long, weary sigh, the witch attire seemed like it, the blackish outfit seemed that Catherine was more of my daughter than a friend. The light reflected off her staff, a stark contrast to the darkness I carried.
"Yes, Catherine, now, we will go to the Bureau. We have reports to file and debts to settle." I replied, my voice raspy from disuse.
I haven't heard Eirene every since, ever since we beat the tax collector into a doll, everything changed since I left Town Allure, there, a strange disease was spreading toward the town and yet, the Bronze Coin attacked the Flower Manor, from which my sister lives.
Even though she has the mastery of blood manipulation, I cannot tell that she'd handle all that kind of stuff by herself. And if, a single limb was completely torn into Eirene's body, I swear I'll gone rogue. But Eirene's a strong woman, I'm sure she'll be fine, no one could touch her with her blood manipulation."
"I hope she's okay." I muttered
As we walked toward the grand entrance of the Luminous Knight Bureau Association, I checked the weight at my hip. My fingers brushed the cold, etched steel of my revolver. It was a specialized piece, designed to channel my dark magic into lead, a final insurance policy for a man who dealt in shadows. I ensured the cylinder was seated properly before stepping into the bustling hall.
The air inside was thick with the smell of parchment and old magic. We approached the main desk, where the registrar, Sydney Popov, was frantically sorting through a mountain of casualty reports and mission logs. She looked up, her eyes wide behind her spectacles as she recognized me.
"Elias Rynd, you're back from the capital. We heard the fighting was... intense."
"It's over, I'm here for the debrief. But first, I need to know if my sister has checked in. There's some things that has been going on Town Allure, I need to check her status?"
Sydney's expression shifted instantly. The professional mask crumbled, replaced by a look of profound, haunting pity. Her gaze flickered to the deceased logs at the corner of her desk, then back to my face. Her lips trembled.
"Eirene… Elias, I... I didn't think you knew yet. Your sist…"
"Elias Rynd!"
The conversation was severed like a silk thread by a booming, authoritative voice.
I turned to see Anton Kif, the Bureau Chief, marching toward us. His heavy boots echoed against the marble floor, and his face was set in a grim, unreadable mask. He didn't look at Catherine or Patricia, his eyes were locked onto mine, hard and cold.
"Chief Anton, I was just asking Sydney about my sister."
Anton reached us, his shadow looming over the desk, effectively cutting Sydney off from speaking another word. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, his grip like iron.
"My office, Elias, Now! We have things to discuss that are not for the ears of the lobby."
I looked back at Sydney, but she had turned her head away, her shoulders shaking. A cold stone formed in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. The air in the Bureau, once so welcoming, suddenly felt as stagnant and suffocating as a grave.
"Suspicious… huh?" I muttered
As I turned to follow Anton, Sydney's hand shot out, trembling as she pressed a sealed envelope into my palm. I didn't wait for an explanation. I snatched the letter with a practiced, predatory flick of the wrist and shoved it deep into my coat pocket. Whatever was in there, it smelled like bad news, and I wasn't in the mood for a public wake.
"What was in the letter, Elias. Can I see it." Catherine said
"Oh it's nothing, just some taxes."
"No, I mean it, I miss Aunt Eirene, that Harold dude give me chills from your sister."
With the pleas from my daughter, I handed the envelope from Catherine and said in a calm tone.
"Catherine, here, read it later once we get home."
The walk to the Chief's office was silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of my boots and the heavy thud of Anton's footsteps. Inside, the room was suffocating, draped in the self-importance of a man who fought wars with a quill.
Anton didn't even sit down. He whirled around, his face reddening.
"Is it true, Elias? Is it true that your mentor, Alistair Peregrine John, has allied himself with the Immoral Knights?"
I didn't blink. I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms.
"He wore their mark. He spoke their creed". I nodded once, a cold affirmation.
"Dammit, Elias! Why did you kill him? He was a goldmine of information! We should have interrogated him, broken him, learned where the rest of those traitors are hiding. You let your instincts get ahead of the bureau's needs!"
The air in the room grew heavy, the shadows in the corners beginning to writhe like living snakes. Anton's voice was just noise, the babbling of a man who stayed behind walls while others bled in the mud.
In one fluid, blurring motion, I drew the revolver.
The hammer clicked back with a chilling finality. I stepped forward and jammed the cold steel of the barrel directly into the center of Anton's forehead, forcing his head back against the leather of his chair. Catherine and Patricia gasped behind me, but they didn't move. They knew better than to step between a shadow and its prey.
"Listen to me very carefully, Chief, Alistair wasn't a source. He was an enemy. My enemy."
I leaned in closer, my eyes narrowing into slits of dark malice.
"He orchestrated the attack on Rebelbub Village. He timed it when the rescuers were miles away, leaving the innocent to be slaughtered in the dark. I don't interrogate men who burn villages for sport. I end them."
My finger tightened on the trigger, the tension in the room so thick it felt like it might snap.
"Don't ever mistake my efficiency for a mistake again, the Bureau wants reports. I want results. And right now, the only thing keeping your brains from decorating this wallpaper is the fact that I haven't decided if you're worth the paperwork."
I slowly eased the hammer back into place and holstered the revolver with a sharp, metallic click. The shadows in the corners of the room receded, though the chill in the air remained. Anton exhaled a breath he'd been holding for a lifetime, his face transitioning from a panicked white to a weary, frustrated grey. He straightened his collar, trembling fingers smoothing out the wrinkles of his uniform as he sat back down.
He didn't mention the gun. He knew that in the world I walked in, respect wasn't given, it was taken at the end of a barrel.
He pulled a stack of papers toward him, his eyes scanning the ink with a forced professional focus.
"The reports from the capital are... grim, the civil war within the Immoral Knights' ranks is still raging. It's a bloodbath out there, and their internal fracture is the only thing keeping them from a full-scale invasion of the southern territories."
He looked up at me, a flicker of genuine, albeit fearful, gratitude in his eyes.
"The Council thanks you for your defense of the capital, Elias. Without your... methods... the gates would have fallen within the hour."
Suddenly, I remembered one of Eirene's troops being sent to Caria, they were about to die but I saved them from danger, when I meet them, I will call them dead weight. Especially that shithead, Ned Haro, to which, is bad at wielding a spear, I should call him pencil dick when we met.
I shrugged, a cold, indifferent movement that shifted the heavy coat on my shoulders.
"I didn't do it for the Council. I did it because the noise of screaming civilians is annoying when I'm trying to work. I'm just doing my job."
Anton cleared his throat, sensing that praise was a wasted currency with me. He pulled a separate, wax-sealed folder from a locked drawer and slid it across the mahogany surface.
"Since you're so eager to work, I have a new objective. We've received reports of strange activity in Mount Caria. It's not just scouts this time. There are sightings of high-ranking Immoral Knights gathering in the high passes, rituals, supply caches, something big."
He leaned forward, his hands clasping together.
"Investigate the peaks. If you find a nest, burn it. We can't afford another surprise like the one at the village. The mountains are treacherous, but I assume that won't be an issue for someone who commands the dark."
I snatched the folder without a word, the paper crinkling under my grip. The Caria Mountains. Cold, jagged, and filled with things that liked to hide in the mist. It suited me just fine.
"Catherine, Patricia. Pack your gear, We leave at dusk. I've got a feeling the air up there is going to smell like more than just snow."
As I walked out, my realization drifted to my pocket, I gave the letter to Catherine, feeling the edge of the letter Sydney had given me. The mission could wait a few minutes. I needed to know what the Bureau was trying so hard to hide about my sister.
"I need to know more…"