“You have a great house. I wouldn’t mind living in there. Although, I would mind the neighbors,” a woman chuckled behind him. The sun was at the highest point in the sky and the forest was unusually silent. The scent of evergreen invaded his nose and the coldness of winter seeped through his thick cloak. She waited outside the small abode with Maximillian.

“Carmine, I didn’t invite you to my hometown to talk about such things. I thought you knew your place. When I asked you to gather information, you’re supposed to quickly act then give me what you gathered. Stop your idle chatters,” crossing his arms across his chest, Klerien glared. She wore a red cloak and carried a small woven basket. Klerien eyed its contents. Green apples and bread filled the basket with a small brown envelope wedged in between.

“Stop your glaring. I was merely jesting. You never really knew how to take my jests. By the way, I was surprised by your sudden eagerness. Was your resolve shaken after yesterday? I thought you’re tougher than most lads?” she grinned, showing her pearly white teeth. Carmine had long blonde hair, small face, opal eyes, and pouty lips. Klerien never did fell for her charms. He ignored her before kicking a small patch of snow.

“I found someone that might provide us information. I wanted you to find everything about his background,” he simply stated without averting his eyes from the envelope. She noticed where his eyes were pinned so she reached for the object. Pushing herself from leaning against the bark of a tree, she walked towards Klerien.

“And, what was their name?” Klerien grasped the envelope being offered to him without answering. Tearing through the parchment, he pulled a folded paper. His eyes widened in surprise.

“What was this?”

“A key,” she waved her hands, scoffing. “I still don’t know what it’s for, but I learned that it’s important. The people who chases you might increase because of it.”

“Thank you,” Klerien snapped, gripping the old iron key inside his hands. He gave a stern gaze at Carmine then nodded. “I’ll inform you when I learned his name. He’s currently unconscious inside. For the meantime, I want you to hide. You already know what they are capable of.”

“Of course,” she nodded. The two shared a dark gleam in their eyes. “They almost killed you. You should be thankful for that wolf of yours, just like your angel. I don’t feel comfortable in this town. You should be careful.”

“I know,” with those words, she averted her eyes before turning around. Klerien watched her figure disappear behind the trees before sighing. With the key in his hand, he thought of the mess that waited for him. The sound of his footsteps receded as he entered the house.

“Rien...,” swiping the dust from the table, Klerien whispered. He sat with his back hunched on a chair at the head of the table. The cupboard that was once filled with pots, plates, cups, and cutlery was toppled on the floor beside the broken and dusty kitchen wares. His head turned towards the wooden, rickety floor. It was painted with the dark color of dried blood, dirt, and thick layers of dust. “Will there ever be a time when... I could no longer feel anything from uttering that name? Living with you has been great, but I— there are times when I miss them too. I missed mother’s reprimands, I missed Liezel’s reliance, and I missed father’s presence...”

He brushed Maximillian’s soft fur, reaching behind the wolf’s ears until its tail. He sadly smiled as his friend nozzle his palm. Klerien was overwhelmed with the string assault of emotions. His breathing came in slow and heavy breaths. His wolf quietly sat beside his feet, leaning on him, and giving him warmth. “Do you still remember when I first met you? After pouncing at you like a child, you almost bit my arm. Father scolded me for it.”

He softly chuckled, caressing his left arm. “He told me that approaching a wild animal without any warnings was too dangerous. They will immediately see you as an enemy that tries to hurt them. How about that time when we cuddled Liezel when she was but two summers?”

“She was so tiny...,” Klerien bit his lips as a choke escaped. Maximillian glanced at him with alertness. He formed his arms like he was cradling a small baby, like he did for his sister. He covered his lips with both hands as tears silently poured from his green eyes. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed his cries. His brows are furrowed, and his lips curved into a sneer. Clutching the edge of the table with one hand, he loudly slammed a fist on top.

From a distance, through the swirls of red and orange in the sky of the setting sun, a high pitch bark reverberated until it changed into a short, distressed howl.

ՓՓՓ

“Yes, my lord. We’re finally rid of Reiner Stumpp and his family. The man was a hazard for your future. Hemlock didn’t even bat an eye,” Verdun kneeled in front of his lord. He had the honor to serve him when his father confessed everything. Verdun came from a family that his lord had saved in a brink of being excommunicated.

He would do anything and everything for his lord.

“Are you quite sure, Verdun?” his lord snapped. Verdun ignored the shivers crawling throughout his body after hearing his lord’s agitated voice. His lord merely cares for his servant’s

well-being. He, then, further lowered his head that it almost touches the ground.

“I believe that Hemlock created an uproar when Joseph Steinberg faced the trials. Snipping out his followers would surely cause the same reactions. You know how I could be when-”

“I am certain, my lord,” Verdun exclaimed before his lord could even finish his rumble. Verdun’s heart pounded against his chest while tiny droplets of sweat formed on his forehead. The presence that his lord exuded was truly magnificent and overwhelming. A smile formed on the servant’s lips as pride rose in him.

“The people of Hemlock already acknowledged their existence, and they despise it. I did my best to erase any trace of our involvement in the matter. That accursed church and town will not know what will hit them until it was thrown on their faces. I could confidently state that, my lord, you will have a grand stage waiting for you in that town and no one will be standing on your way,” Verdun resumed.

“Wonderful!” his lord blurted out before letting a loud and boisterous laugh escape from his mouth. Verdun slowly lifted his head to have a glimpse on his lord’s expression. The man who sat on his throne-like chair had both of his hand clenching the chair’s arms. His face was contorted into a laugh. The reverberating sound coming deep from his throat was the only sound in the room beside the crackling of the fireplace.

“I’ll trust that matter upon you, Verdun,” his lord added between his laughter. The servant merely nodded at him, feeling a sense of pride in his esteem for causing such delight in his lord’s expression. “You could leave that matter to me, my lord.”

However, he was blind from everything else besides the twisted satisfaction etched on his lord’s face. While the laughing man clutched his stomach in delight, while the servant bowed with a sense of pride, the other slaves in the room didn’t feel the same light expression that the other two produced.

A woman laid on the bed found at the corner of the room. In the darkness, where the light from the fire couldn’t reach, she laid battered and bleeding. Her blood stained the pure white sheets and pillows. She wore nothing as she lay unmoving and barely breathing.

Only moments before Verdun arrived at his lord’s abode, the same woman was defiled and sexually assaulted by the same man that was laughing at this moment. The grunts and moans that bounced on the four corners of the wall were still playing inside the woman’s head. She had been living in the same house for a year but the taunts and pain from her lord were the only sound that she could hear, whether she’s awake or asleep. The man and another younger woman that sat on the floor beside the bed also feels the same as the said woman.

In fact, the only people that found amusement inside of a room filled with the scent of blood and the sinful smell of intercourse was Verdun and his lord.

“How about that other matter?” his lord asked once he calmed down from his fit. Verdun nodded as his lord brushed his fingers through his unruly red hair. The servant immediately avoided his lord’s intimidating eyes, when their eyes met.

“It seems that whoever was keeping on meddling in our affairs finally ceased a month ago. I haven’t heard anything from my subordinates about anything remotely like any dangers. I believe that it was from a mere curious but spineless man,” the man’s eyes narrowed at his kneeling servant. He knew that Verdun would do anything he would say, but it would hurt to have doubts on some.

“Fine, you’re dismissed,” he murmured. He watched as his servant suddenly looked appalled and gaping at his feet. “Once you left, find Marc and tell him that I need his presence.”

“But- my lord!” his lord glares at him as he lifted a finger to silence him. Verdun’s mouth clamped shut at the sinister gleam hiding behind his lord’s unusual glowing eyes. He stumbled on his feet to stand as he realized what his lord means. “Immediately, my lord!”

The doors shut with a soft thud as the sound of purposeful steps receded. A whimper echoed in the darkness as the man stands from his chair towards his bed.

“Shall we continue where we left off?” he grinned as a teardrop fell from the corner of Marguerite’s eyes.