Darkness, Flames and Hopes Ch. 08

"Oh my... You horny sorceress make my mouth water... That was the best ass I've ever seen!"

"Okay, funny, shut up now!" Minerva wrinkled her face and barked to shut her up immediately, but Ambryn continued after a laugh.

"I mean... Now I understand sooo much better why your commander is in hell. Definitely an ass to die for!"

As Dimana finally sat up on her tail and muttered a weak apology, Minerva clenched her teeth and pointed to the valley with her finger to Ambryn and ordered in a threatened voice.

"Keep rolling!"

"Can I touch it too?"

Minerva stretched out her palm and responded by sending a lightning strike on her. Ambryn fell to the ground with the blow she took on her shield, her torn gown slipped off her shoulders. Ambryn continued to wink and laugh for a while, putting her dress back on her shoulders and stood up.

"Calm down, darling! Okay. Stand up, succubus whore! Make me wait again and I will spank both of you until your asses ignites!"

Dimana stood up slowly without taking her sad eyes off the sorceress, Ambryn went down again with a smirk on her face. Dimana was acquiesced that Minerva would be angry, swear and even crush her breasts again with her fists. Her only fear was the possibility that the sorceress wouldn't let her come closer to her side with such a purpose again, and her wide, rageful eyes turning to her were promising much more than that. Minerva slowly lifted her finger, shook it to her, opened her mouth to shout or threat, but only filled her breasts with air and closed it again. After rechecking her clothes with her hands, she quickly followed the witch. Dimana allowed her to put a few steps between them, stood up and pursued her, muttering mouthful curses to the witch.

*****

Tailroad

Temple of The Kingdom

The small windows and narrow doors in the chambers of the temple guesthouse and the thick stone walls separating them were making them no different from prison cells. The low wardrobe and desk made of oak wood, or one extra pillow in the single bed wasn't reducing this similarity. The darkness of the night was dominating the chamber and suppressing the torch light next to the door. The moon shining on top was telling that it was time to go to bed. But neither for Ovyr, who was sitting on his bed and polishing his leather boots for the fourth time, nor for his father behind the wall he rested her back on, nor for Kowan on the other side of the investigator. Well, maybe for Kowan and maybe for his father too, but definitely not for Ovyr.

He couldn't remember that his father had lost so much coolness while on job. Since they left the temple and discussed the new case in their room, there was no peace for all three. Warriors were not killed by another warrior for the first time. It was not the first time that a warrior escaped from the army neither. Or they were not investigating the case in another kingdom for the first time. No, the problem wasn't Minerva and the devil she carried with her. The problem was the temple. Despite being bursting for hours, he couldn't make sense of what was reported by Bernard. This wasn't a simple escape and serial deaths. The temple was officially throwing them blindfolded into a dark room, closing all the entrances and exits, and asking them to find a faceless monster that perhaps had never been in the room.

Centuries ago, only three witnesses needed to kill someone in execution. It didn't matter whether they were lying or telling the truth. It was enough to find and bring three people to the guards or army commanders and claim whatever they wanted. And then it was time for the defendant to be questioned. If the defendant couldn't find any immediate con-evidence, the head flew and end of the story.

Ovyr threw the boot on his lap to the floor, scratched his head, pursed his lips and opposed the example he reminded himself. In fact, the conditions of three witnesses were even fair. There were far more ridiculous courts just after whole Reghmer had divided. For example, wicked cats. Kill somebody, rape his wife, sell their kids to slave traders, and this, and that... When you are accused, you throw the crime to the cat of the family you just murdered and claim that the cat is a witch. The people and even judges would believe you. Even if they didn't, well, some gold was enough to save your ass.

He stood up slowly, without breaking his puckered lips, clasped his hands over his butt, and began to stroll around in the narrow chamber. The justice desired by the temple was just that ridiculous. There was no evidence that the sorceress named Minerva is the murderer and only murderer of twenty-three warriors and templars. There were too many crime scenes where they could find evidence. But the Tailroad Temple, which kept them like prisoners, didn't want it, didn't even offer a good explanation. There was just a ridiculous story told by the deputy. There were only words. And they weren't going to allow them to act outside of these words.

Why... 'There will be no why.' Bernard had warned them clearly. This was what burned Ovyr's mind most. There's no case without reason! This too was a saying from his father. And 'The power that sustains the kingdoms is justice.', and 'Justice determines the value of your life, not gold.', And 'Justice is not the sword of the strong, but the shield of the weak.', And 'The culprit is the idea, not the stabbed knife.', And this, and that and finally... There will be no why!

One of the reasons that led him to keep his life on this road after leaving the Weidenhold College with applause of teachers was this holiness. He had accepted the concept of justice as a god long ago. And his god was trampled on this cursed night. First of all by the man he saw as a prophet!

And Minerva. It didn't matter who she is or how she was related to damn Olven. She was someone who needs to be listened to and rights granted. Just like all other suspects. Declaring someone as a guilty who has not been proven guilty yet? Declaring the investigation as a hunt!

When he realized that he was not breathing for a long time, he rested his hands on the desk, opened his mouth wide and filled his lungs with thin air. He looked at the wall as if he could see his father if he look very carefully. No, it wasn't his fault. He just wanted to protect himself and his two assistants. And Minerva was guilty. The succubus was dead, Olven was sincere, and the Temple was sacred. All these possibilities formed the outlines of an alternative reality. A dream that will keep all three in safe.

He took his green eyes from the wall and drawed them into the door. It was impossible to notice anything from the back of the entrance, which was riveted with high threshold and iron molds. No sound was heard from outside or no light was leaking through the tight boards. At this hour, leaving the chamber and knocking on the door of another chamber was quite suspicious, but it seemed worth to trying. After wearing his shiny boots, he gazed at the sun armor in the open wardrobe for a long time. And at the hanged new black chainmail next to it. Neither of them would fit very well with the lie he designed quickly. He ironed his long black nightgown with his hands, bowed his head and cleaned his throat, made a small rehearsal.

"I... Good- Blessed night, brother. I... Uhm. Blessed night, brother! I have to talk to him immediately- Very- About a very important subject I discovered about the case- Damn, too long! I have to talk to him...about something very important about the case... About the case- Fuck it!"

After quickly checking his dress and blond hair again, he approached the door with slight steps that would envy a cat, held the door steady with one hand, pulled the iron bolt with the other with small pushes and released the door. He tried to show his right green eyes through a narrow gap and control the surroundings, but he couldn't see anything other than the fire of the torch on the opposite wall illuminating the turquoise corridor carpet. When he heard the sound of heavy boots coming down the stairs at the end of the hallway he just closed his eye and didn't opened until the sounds ended. He opened the door far enough to squeal his thin body by screeching the rusty hinges, and eventually stepped into the hallway. There was no danger as far as the torches hung on the walls could show every ten steps. All doors were closed. Of course, including Bernard's and Kowan's. He wanted to wait a little longer and break a possible last second surprise, but it was much more stupid to wait.

He tried to close the door behind him with incredible slowness, but every time he left the handle, the damn door left a narrow gap looking into his torch-lit chamber to attract all the attention of a possible gaze. He muttered a quiet swearing, opening the door again with the same slowness, once again checking the hallway, putting his head and right arm inside, extinguished the torch with a fast and sharp frost spell and handed his chamber to the darkness. At the very least, the gap seemed too hidden enough to be noticed unless it was carefully looked at. He locked all his senses into the darkness at the end of the hallway, proceeded with the same cat steps, stood in front of his father's door, but didn't raise his hand to knock it.

Was he sleeping? The long and non-stop trip from Weidenhold to Llevannar, from there to Kingdom's Heart made even his young body tired. A man close to retirement like Bernard would normally have to sleep for up to ten hours. Normally... He was probably writhing in his bed. He must have been tightening his eyes and trying to think of something else. Just like as Ovyr tried to do an hour ago.

Ovyr blew his disturbed breath on his door, then he left and passed to the other door. No, he wanted to meet his assistant, not him. Kowan had been a student of the famous investigator much longer ago than him. He was six years older than him. He was more experienced than him. But he was never clever enough to be a good investigator. Kowan himself admitted that. Still, he had the same sense of justice and was faithful enough to jump into the fire without even blinking to protect his father. Although he was originally from Uhemer, he was like a member of the Manwise family. Thanks to the warrior, Ovyr was able to taste the big brother compassion. Brother... He pressed his grin and knocked his door twice. And once again after a breath. And one last time. They had long decided to use the password and had worked many times. Ovyr waited hopefully to it would work again.

There was no movement at first. Ovyr hadn't expected any reaction in the first second after all. Still, limits of getting angry and worrying was at the bottom, and the stone walls seemed to be approaching to catch him every second. The step sounds he wanted to hear came from far away. Hard steps rising from the bottom floor to the top were crushing the carpet that adorned the stone steps and getting closer each passing breath, turning Ovyr into a sculpt and cutting off his blood circulation more. He fisted his shaky hand and lowered his bloodless knots on the wood again. And again. And again. He just noticed that he had forgotten the damn password only when his green eyes automatically gazed at the end of the hallway. Even if Kowan was standing up, he must have been skeptical enough not to open the door anymore.

"God damn it, Kowan open up!" He shouted quietly to the door. Maybe loudly. The steps that leading up to the hallway now crushed the capacity to understand the difference. He remembered preparing the little rehearsal, but not what words he decided to use.

"Hey, Liah!" Someone called out downstairs. "Uncle Tim wants to see you, now." he added, in a more hoarse but more anxious voice.

The boots had stopped and their owner was asking in the same worried voice.

"This late hour?"

Ovyr didn't pay more attention to the little controversy. He put his nose and palms on the door and started begging.

"K-Kowan! It's me. Open up! I'm Ovyr, open the door, now!"

The door was unbolted with great noise, the hinges creaked, and the half-naked man took a quick look at Ovyr's breathless face, waving his chestnut hair covering his nape, holding his head out, checking the sounds, grabbing the younger investigator's collar and flung him in, pulling the door again with the same loud noise.

As soon as Ovyr got rid of Kowan's big hands, he swiftly moved from the door to the farthest corner, leaning his back against the cold wall and finally breathing in and out. After listening to the door for a while, Kowan turned to him and put his fists on his waist.

"Where the fuck is Sindevear? And what the fuck are you doing!"

Sindevear? Ovyr didn't think he heard this part. Although he had heard, he was not conscious enough to catch it at that moment. Still, the name evoked something. A name from the Tailroad map he reviewed while still on the Weidenhold road. He responded to Kowan's prying eyes by shaking his shoulders, clasped his hands over his waist, and continued to drawing circles he left halfway in his chamber.

"I couldn't sleep."

Kowan grimaced, shook his head down, and turned back to his bed, and rested his back against the wall.

"It was stupid." He measured the reason in his usual wild tone. "But me too."

Olven pointed to the wall behind him with his chin. "I'm sure he too... I can't take his face out off my mind."

He lifted his answer prospecting face from the red carpet and turned it to the man who was scratching his thighs under his white jockey shorts. Simplicity was his colleague's lifestyle. Bloody answers were no different. Nevertheless, even a 'calm down', or 'nonsense' or simply 'yah' as his most common answer, could help him to gather up his straggly mind.

"Yah." Kowan answered without a care, taking one hand from his crotch and stroking his nose, but Ovyr was not carefree enough to be happy with his prediction. After a deep breath, he continued to draw circles where he left off, grunted aimlessly and undecidedly.

"His discomfort is of course not due to the case. Okay, the case so shitty, but the temple bothers him at most. The deputy bothers him. They are lying. They're even aware of they're lying. They are also aware that we knows that they are lying. And yet they keep shitting around. No... They don't want a court. They just want to find Minerva's trail and destroy her. And they're using us. Damn foreign lands! Always the same shit. Always, always- Will you stop stroking your damn balls!"

Kowan continued to scratch them recklessly, but at least he told his thoughts to the blonde's angry eyes this time.

"It ain't matter what you think, boy. The temple gives us job, and we do it. It ain't matter which temple it is. Also I don't think anyone is lying?"

He could have been right, under normal conditions. But the temple couldn't play with its own warriors, couldn't try to fool them, couldn't give them lies or false information. This was a kind of... Blasphemous. Although they were not written and sealed, the temples also had responsibilities before the warriors. Otherwise, what difference would holy Light Warriors have from an ordinary mercenary army?

Or else? Nothing... Whether the temple lie, deceive, or prevent justice, there was nothing a few warriors could do. Without the request of another temple leader or kings or surely an order from the Silverland queen, everything would be at the temple's will. One of the reasons Ovyr was in this chamber was one of those minor possibilities.

"Do you really believe in Olven's story?" Ovyr frowned and asked in a curious voice. Kowan finally pulled up his hands and crossed his legs on the bed, his black eyes stared at him.

"Yah, I do."

"Because you're a fool?"

"Because I'm wise enough." Kowan responded with a grimace and a throaty voice.

He was pointing out the harms of being opposed to a deputy and a temple leader, but at least his gestures made it clear that he was also not happy with this. Ovyr approached him slowly, puckering his lips, and sat on the bed beside him. He raised his hand to move his fingers on his sweaty chest as hard as an invisible armor, but he didn't want to end the discussion with interest that would drain both of their heads.

"Doesn't it bother you to see father like this?"

"Unhappiness is better than death."

"He's a father to you too, Kowan. Unhappiness is a high limit. We can't allow it."

Kowan threw back his chestnut hair covering his forehead and cheekbones and turned his eyes to nowhere.

"You're asking me a favor?"

Ovyr displayed the first sincere and wide smile of the day and night, stretching out his hand on his lap and holding his wrist, but the man swelled his muscles and turned his arm into a stone. The blonde waited for a while for his muscles to relax and hopefully got what he wanted after a sigh. He locked his fingers on his and rested the back of his hand on his own thigh.

"You have to go back to Weidenhold."

Kowan frowned, stroking his chin beard with his free hand.

"What for?"

"You should tell the leader, Rolan, the whole situation. You should tell him to persuade Miremir. Or at least you should return with at least five friends. Tilhos, Dervan, Hylma maybe-"

Kowan easily saved his hand, squeezed his teeth, jumped to his feet, and turned to his colleague and hissed.

"Come on son... It's stupid... So fucking stupid!"

"They need to find a solution. They need to learn! Father is very valuable to them. They will not allow him to be compromised by Tailroad in this way." Ovyr clenched his fists and hissed back. A second later, Kowan's flickering, furious face was in front of his eyes. Kowan's finger pointed at the door.

"They probably have already sent a letter. And by f-fucking Miremir!"

"And what do you think is written there? We lied to them and imprisoned them?"

Kowan waved his hand, rejected his offer, pulled back his wrinkled face, and started touring around the invisible circle that Ovyr had just drawn.

"You're pushing. You're pushing! They didn't imprison us. Bernard... Bernard can write a letter... I can't leave you."

Ovyr closed his eyes and shook his head desperately, took a deep breath and weakened his fingers, which flushed his palms.

"Father never shows himself weak. Even if the damn man dies, he doesn't want anything like that. No matter how valuable he is... He wants to retire... No, Kowan... You're the only remedy."

Kowan stood in the spot and turned to him sharply and came back to him with heavy steps.

"I said, I can't leave you. Both of you."

Ovyr smiled sadly and stood up. No, he didn't want the damn guy to go, but their lives could be in danger. Tailroad could remain as their last stop. Their bodies could be buried in these lands. It was better for Kowan to move away from him for a short time than any other terrible possibilities.

He wanted Kowan to understand this sincerity and importance as he lifted his hands and grasped his rigid cheeks, leaving a dry kiss on his lips, shaking with anger and anxiety. The older investigator shared his heavy feelings in a short time. His fists firmly held his black nightgown covering his shoulders, as his wet lips pressed and pushed his golden head back. Just as he had opened the door of lust, Kowan was also the one who withdrew suddenly. Kowan pulled back his hands from his gown, grabbed his soft cheeks, rested his forehead against his and whispered with an apologetic tone.

"Not here! Turn back. Tomorrow we take leave and go down to the city and...make a decision. With more solid head."

Ovyr opened his mouth, sniffed his sweat smell with a deep breath before a reluctant nod. He slid his body out between the bed he wanted to lie on and the man he wanted to feel his hard muscles, and started to walk towards the door with same reluctant steps.