Darkness, Flames and Hopes Ch. 07

Olven frowned slightly, but still nodded with the weakly smiling woman. Bernard turned his eyes to Miraed and responded to his smile in the same way. The brown-haired warrior was also dressed entirely in black. In the middle of the silver knitting covering the rib cage, there was a heavy round layer that protected the heart exactly.

"And I'm Miraed. Combat commander of the third unit, but I think you already know that, Bernard. You're exactly as I recall. We did a good job together. It's sad to meet again this way, but it's good to have a brillant investigator like you with us."

Bernard didn't want to pass this warm greeting with just a nod. He would need someone close, and although Miraed was a stranger, he looked like a family member among other foreign faces.

"Thank you, brother Miraed. You're as I remember you also, except the bright armor."

Olven answered the question he wanted to ask.

"You'll be wearing similar armor. It's a special operation. Privacy is the most important rule."

It wasn't a request. The rationale might have made sense, but it was too early to start a real operation. Also, would all these important names leave their troops alone? Just for a sorceress? Although Olven expects a quick and firm result, it would be difficult to easily find someone or some people who comfortably terrorized for four months. Father Miremir was the only person who could make the deputy discouraged from this lack of attention, but no one was talking about the leader.

Bernard turned his black eyes to the last unfamiliar face after a nod. The bronze skinned man still had the same disgusting grin on his face. He preferred gray like Ogral, but the dark blue mosaic decorations on his collar and cloak was distorting this similarity. His blonde hair glowed with the sun that flushed the room. Apart from his thumbs and middle fingers, different gold and silver rings shone on each finger.

"Would you mind answering me a personal question, brother Bernard?"

The investigator frowned. It was an interesting opening sentence but at least better than other words of insincere love and admiration.

"What is it?"

"How was King Oliver convinced to let his little sister to marry you?"

After trying to swallow the question for a moment, Bernard clenched his teeth so as not to punch his damn face, glancing at the deputy who kept his face cold. In fact, it was a question that anyone who knew the king of Weidenhold and his sister could wonder. King Oliver hated Light Warriors and had valid reasons for it. During the fight for the Weidenhold throne, some commanders and the temple leader supported Oliver's brother and enemy. Despite this hostility, his sister was married to a light lieutenant. The only reason was a painful love drama, and Bernard was not eager to speak about it.

"You are the spymaster, I take?" Bernard finished his curiosity. Still, he couldn't spoil his grin.

"Yes, sir! My name is Ralias. I am also an mastermage." He turned his face to the deputy without waiting for an answer from the investigator, and pointed the earring on the table with his finger. Olven threw the jewelry in front of him. Ralias took it quickly and put it on his left little finger without looking at it, turned back to Bernard.

"I will analyze it. I'm sure it's not enchanted with dark magic even now, but I want to make sure what the spell is. Maybe it will be useful to you too."

Bernard turned his head to Olven, who grinned significantly. He wanted to go to the bloody garden and breathe some fresh air immediately before anger and stress burn his brain anymore. And Ovyr. He might have been more worried than himself. Fortunately, he didn't have to say anything. Olven quickly rose from his seat and straightened. He looked at all the eyes around the table.

"Brothers and sister Iris. You know who the target is. Send your assistants back to your units and inform your lieutenants. You will stay at home with brother Bernard for a while. We can act with a new piece of information at any time. May the light shine on you."

"To all of us!" they all roared and stood up. As everyone was running to the door quickly, Bernard nodded to greet the deputy for the last time, but Olven signaled for him to wait with his hand, destroying his slight enjoyment again. As Bernard sighed and reluctantly sat back on his chair, Olven walked back to the desk behind him, picked up the jug and glass, and came closer to Bernard. Although he filled the glass with water without asking, Bernard was pleased. His dried lips were begging for any kind of liquid. Olven walked away, sat down on his seat, and while Bernard was running out of the glass of water in one go, he waited for the hallway to fall back into silence again without taking his eyes away from him, smiled after step sounds ended, folded his hands on the table.

"You have questions, Bernard. I know. I expect everyone to do their own tasks. I expect everyone to do what they do best. And the questioning is your responsibility. Not anyone elses."

Bernard raised his eyebrows in delightful surprise. It was certainly a logical reason, but could he find real answers to his questions? There was only one way to know. Like Olven, he leaned back, thanked him with a nod and asked.

"Thank you, brother Olven. There's a lot I want to ask, but it would be more effective to ask them at the right time. For now, just..." He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Samson. How did Minerva's suspicions start? Why did she act alone? How did she meet Marievel? And why would a witch hiding in public declared an innocent teacher as a Seven Will-"

"Samson wasn't innocent. Minerva was right in her suspicions."

Bernard grimaced, trying to weigh new information, but Olven continued without waiting.

"We used him. We were aware of the whole operation. We destroyed many Seven Will camps and contributed to justice by following him instead of catching and hanging him. It was a dangerous and... Brutal decision considering the families of the children. But we saved countless lives beside the fears of those children and families. Would it be better if... We caught and killed him, brother?"

Bernard clenched his teeth and left the filthy question unanswered. He could understand the rationale, but he did not even want to understand it. The army was never an innocent and fair structure, but he could understand what sorts of pain a centuries-old war could cause. And it was quite customary for them to turn the war in their favor using people's sufferings. Still, it was an incredible evil that innocent children were at the center of this disgusting cycle.

"What happened to the kids?"

Olven twisted her lips and shook his shoulders.

"We saved them all... Almost."

Bernard did not react except to bow his head. The damage was much greater. Minerva, on the other hand, must have lost her faith in the Light after realizing this secret information. But it was not enough reason to start killing templars and warriors to ensure her own justice. Still, the whole issue could be better understood.

"I... I don't understand. What does the witch have to do?"

Olven bent her lips and turned his narrowed eyes to the sun chandelier on the ceiling, knocking her fingers synchronously on the table, after a deep breath he gave her attention to the curious investigator again after a light punch on the wooden surface.

"Yeah, don't forget that, but... I'm also curious about something. About a more philosophical matter... I mean, you're an experienced warrior. It's been a long time since most youthful pains you left behind. Still... There is a period of interrogation that every warrior overcomes. It is a period which hurt their self-confidences with many questions about whys and hows. Questions, like, what does all this mean? Why does the Light need such a disciplined army? Why are we killing other wizards? What is the power that turning this dramatic circle for centuries? I mean... We call them dark blood, but their blood is not really dark? It's red and warm. Just like ours. Their only difference is that they use a different sorcery... Of course, they are far from our god and our culture, too, but... Have you ever struggled with such questions, dear brother?"

Bernard thought for a while before nodding. Of course, it was the questions that everyone with a higher level of intelligence than donkeys asked themselves. Although the answers are revealed in caves or streets covered with blood and bones every period. The whole problem was not just magic and culture. The triangle of benefits, politics and tragedy that lasted for centuries was the only reason that the bloody circle that even challenged the gods continued to wheel around at any moment. The army of the Light was undoubtedly greater than a handful of ignorant wizards, but every step beyond the walls, where any kind of light didn't illuminate, belonged to this dark power. Although the Light had accepted its god centuries later, its army was not a force that the people fell in love with. Although it was a fact that nobody can speak out loud... As a result of this fact, the army was suppressing all people and their any kind of authorities, including the kingdoms, at every opportunity. This pressure was coming back as more hatred. It was the birth of a different circle and a different triangle. Hate, totalitarianism and rebellion. Even though the people hated Seven Will, and even those who saw them as a more hopeful and brighter force were crushed in the middle of these two bloody circles, they had more sympathy for the enemy of the Light.

"Is that what happened to Minerva, brother deputy? Youthful pains?"

Of course, a single nod was not enough to answer these questions. Olven's slightly wrinkled face and twisted eyebrows made this much clearer.

"To kill nine warriors, you need more than that. If we go back to the problem... Sevens declared him as a traitor before us and decided to execute him. They did it in their own wicked way, by using our precious warrior against us. I hate to say it, but... They are very successful."

Bernard shook his head, tried to understand again.

"If Minerva was someone important enough to be a commander, why didn't you tell her truth?"

Olven answered, raising his voice without waiting.

"I told her the truth personally. I called her and told her, secretly. Of course. Unfortunately my words disturbed her more than relaxing her. She never revealed her true faith before she martyred Azavan."

Even if what he said was true, the fact that a deputy paid attention to a warrior with such diligence only meant that Minerva was a truly brilliant warrior. Was there any other reason for this intense interest, it was impossible to know. The other shortcoming was the main reason for Minerva to change enough to cooperate with a devil despite her possible high standards of justice. Why torture him, instead of killing him? Perhaps Marievel had not fooled her, although the story of the witch was full of questions. Maybe they had acted together from the beginning. And why? Undoubtedly, this theory also destroyed Minerva's goodwill. Questions were not ending, on the contrary, it was increasing so fucking more.

"What about the witch's husband. Is he alive?"

Olven shook his head and broke another hope of the investigator.

"It was too late when we discovered her true identity. The young trader lies in the Llevannar cemetery. There was someone who provided the link between her and the enemy of course. A link that the temple or guards haven't yet discovered. I don't want to keep you anymore. As promised, I'll send you all the case files. I will also inform the guards. You've had enough of this mess today, brother Bernard. You'd better get some rest."

He stood up with a smile, carefully studying the stretched facial muscles of the investigator before proceeding with a sharp tone.

"I don't want to repeat myself, Bernard. But I have to say it again. The case we want you to care about is Minerva. Not the witch, not Samson. But her. Is that clear?"

Bernard nodded and stood up without waiting for him or showing his reluctance. The whole mess was annoying, but there was no point in being stubborn enough to require damn cases to cast a shadow on his career. Especially when he was so close to retirement. No, everything would be as the temple intended, unless his life or Ovyr's life were in danger. Even if they couldn't find the cursed sorceress, the people who died and killed as a result would not be Weidenhold warriors.

"Thank you, brother. I will go to my room and analyze all the data. You can be sure that I will inform you about everything. I can assure you, our conversation will stay in these four walls."

Olven's nasty grin adorned his face again. He pointed at the door with his hand without answering. Bernard turned around and walked to the door, trying to ignore the sweaty underwear that was scratching his body. The first face he saw in the hallway belonged to Tim. The funny authority opened his arms and mouth, causing Bernard to mutter a quiet swearing. One of the reasons he was here was his damn tongue.

"Alas, friend! We ruined you! Welcome aboard! It was actually better than I expected but... I know how you feel, believe me. Come on, I'll show you your room."

Bernard raised his hand and stopped the dark skinned brunette's enthusiasm.

"Not so fast, Tim. Where is my assistants?"

"Still waiting for you, you moron. We reserved rooms for them too. Right next to yours. Come now."

Bernard wiped the sweat on his forehead with back of his hand, with great disgust, finally started walking. After all, there were at least two people that he wanted to hug. All the hateful foreign looks, reminding him who he is and who he isn't, promised that he would experience this need and weakness for a time. Maybe for a long time.

"So... The situation... How bad is it?" Tim asked curiously, as Bernard looked at the anxious blonde head at the end of the hallway and sighed.

"You and your damn tongue."

*****

Tailroad

Sindevear Village

The absence of a hill high enough to look into the woods from above, as she did with Minerva a few days ago, was another matter of Dimana's hopelessness. The white light of the moon was disappearing under dark clouds. The big branches, blown by the slight breeze, was the only movement she was aware of. And her earring that cools down as she moves away, warms up as she waits. It must have been an hour since she left the sorceress and plunged into the dark and tight woods. Instead of running in a straight line, she thought it would be a more logical strategy to search for a white head by drawing wide zigzags in the northern forests, but she wasn't much sure how accurate this decision was. Maybe she should have run straight. Another reason she didn't want to worry about was the uncomfortable heart in the middle of her lungs, which rose with short breaths. It was full of fear. The only source of courage that cause her run and drain her sweat into the dark forest was the warmth of the earring. It was a new discovery for Dimana. The temperature also made her understand the distance between her and Minerva. And the sorceress was still alive.

There was no trace of them. She kept her all senses open even though she was sure she couldn't felt any dark wizards. It was of no use, but the faint silhouette of the sorceress, which she felt far away from, was enough to make her feel a little better. She held one hand against the dry trunk of a wide tree and pressed the other hand to her left knee, making her lungs relax with deep and silent breaths, while showing around her burgundy eyes in the dark forest. She closed her eyes slowly and raised her ears into the tight woods. She could hear the water slowly flowing on the right. On the left, she noticed two howling sounds that rose from a distant point in a row. She opened her eyes again and started analyzing the situation. If she was a human... Dimana was sure that she was more successful in this regard than any creature in hell, but... If she was a human... A human would be afraid of wolves and want to stay close to the water. But a dark wizard, who was afraid of being noticed, was a different story. A dark wizard would undoubtedly look for a safe place to take refuge. A cave or a house. When she felt that the earring was starting to warm up again, she covered her mouth with her palm slightly and whispered.

"Minerva. Minerva... I will follow the water. To right direction. You... Go straight."

She took a deep and loud breath to calm down. It would be more logical for the sorceress to head the left, but the fear that cooling her blood was a good reason to keep Minerva nearby. Damned witch can go to hell! She covered her mouth again and spoke in a more pronounced voice.

"I'm off now. You... Be careful. Try... Try not to lose me!"

She was quite sure that if the sorceress appeared behind her, she would run back to her and kiss her full lips, grasp her long neck and lick her soft skin, listen to her divine groanings. Not for lust, but to calm down. Fear and despair were undoubtedly stronger than all good emotions, and she missed the damn lips too much. Should she really ignore the logic that whispered to her to run back to the sorceress? The witch was an important human for her. But enough to make her risk her life? Maybe Minerva was right. Maybe that master carried only a corpse. Even just a bag filled with the head of the witch. She looked at the dark trees behind her with sad eyes and tried desperately to feel Minerva. The future of all her existence was hidden in that brain, and her hope was as fade as the woman's form. She pushed her steps forward and started running towards the stream.

Her dirty, broken toenails were getting more and more whining at every step she took on hard ground. She could now feel her shoulder completely. It didn't hurt, but the coldness was still trembling her crimson body uncomfortably. The sound of water increased with each step. The sounds that disturbed the silence before the rain didn't reveal any existence of a human. The biggest creature she felt was belonged to a white owl on the branch of the tree in front of her. An interesting sound made her stop in the middle of the dark forest before reaching the small stream. Ignoring her lungs begging for air, she stopped her breathing and turned her burgundy eyes to north. Something was dragging on the mud. With a few weak steps, she moved her body a little further, trembling with fear and excitement. She couldn't get any other detail, but she could hear the sound of wet soil much more comfortably. Someone had to be dragging something on the ground and whatever it was carrying had to be heavy enough to make a sound. A corpse? She clenched her teeth and quickly covered her mouth with her palm, but another noise made her motionless like a stone. Even the owl stared at that spot and flapped its wings, leaving Dimana completely alone. The succubus slowly kneeled, keeping her eyes on the northeastern direction, and laid her body and face on cool grass. A soft step and a short cough. Close enough to be heard. No, it couldn't be related to the sound of drifting. She slowly lifted her head and tried to observe through her messy hair. The tall grass covered her entire field of vision. The deep dark was concealing every possible danger. Despite the cold ground, her body was getting more comfortable every second. She shouldn't have been noticed. Still, the danger was very close, and none of her senses helped.

With the courage of the earring that started to warm up again, she lifted her breasts from the grass, buried her elbows in damp soil, and slightly gathered her knees. Without taking her eyes apart from the dark, she slowly pulled her body towards the broad roots of the tree two steps away. She leaned her back against the trunk, opened her mouth wide and filled her burning lungs with a deep and quiet breath, quickly refreshed her shield and filled her veins with flames. To her right, she felt the red form that moved quietly and slowly. Apart the stream, she could hear neither stepping sound nor dragging, and the sorceress should have been walking exactly towards them. She tilted her head and looked through the tree with her right eye. When she saw the long silhouette above a big rock fifteen steps away, her breath was cut off again. She tried to capture more details without pulling back her head back. He was quite different from the attackers in the village. His all-black robe and cloak, pants and leather boots were camouflaging him well in the dark. Blood was dripping from where his right hand was supposed to be. Obviously Ambryn managed to hurt him, but she could not escape getting caught. Except for his wide mouth and black beard, his wide hood on his head covered most of his face. Was he the master? He should have been waiting for other wizards to return from the village with worry, but what caused Dimana to clenched her teeth was the spot he was following. He was looking exactly at where she felt Minerva, and Minerva was getting much closer every second. Why the damn woman didn't stop despite seeing what she saw! Dimana moaned anxiously, leaning her head against the tree again, and covered her mouth with her hand.