PART FORTY:
Sedentary Secrets:
The witch carefully opened up the neatly folded cloth. For a little over a decade, it had stayed, stacked and stowed away in a little wooden box. Hidden for so long at the corner of the room, it was now dusty and dirty. Yet it remained undamaged, at least visibly. She lifted the fabric, then gently flapped it inches away from her face. Watching absent-minded, as dust particles rose and floated into thin air. She proceeded to drape the material unceremoniously across her two arms and simply look at it. In and of itself, this was an unremarkable piece of textile. But what it had once represented, was an office of dignity and unspoken clout. It had been the last time she was acquainted with peace, or entertained any form of goodwill whatsoever. It was the moment, she parted ways with all that was virtuous and honorable.
The sorceress looked around at the small coven. Taking in strewn and scattered items with her eyes. Objects that seemed to beg for some sort of order, while pending for unforeseen assignments and usages. She might or might not get to the displayed issues, that were obviously expecting some action from her. Instead she would lend herself for the first time, in almost two decades. To the barrage of nostalgia that would not let go. Memories that demanded attention. Events that surfaced to harass. Unwanted reflections that she would rather not have remembered....
Sense and Uncensored:
She was going about her father's business, as she had always done. When what some could term fame and fortune, came knocking on her door howbeit faintly. She was at the workshop that day, when the king's carriage rolled and stopped by. Her father was a black and metal-smith. He molded and produced steel structures and irons. Theirs was a considerably comfortable family, though not wealthy. She often came into the workshop, to help with the customers and their orders. The employed workers handled the metals and steel along with her father. He never let her or her younger sister, go near the fiery molding furnace. It was no place for a woman he said and both of them were all he had.
So there she was as always, at the front. Quietly interacting with the rest of the world. Her sister never liked to come into the workshop, how much more work in it. She was the extroverted and outgoing one in the family. And she was always up to her sleeves with fun. She had better things to do with her time, she would often proclaim. And she was gladly left to that choice. Both girls were just a year apart. And together, had gotten some level of learning. The next expected and awaiting stage for them, was without question marriage. They would now wait for suitors, as was the norm. Their family was quite known among some and so was the girls' marital status.
However, her sister had her own plans. According to her, she would roam until she found whom she believed was suitable for her. She knew her way around their small town and was already very friendly and known to the young men in it. They were boring and limited she complained. She had recently talked about and was making plans to visit the next town. They had an aunt who lived there and she would spend some time with her. The sorceress and her mother knew exactly what that meant. Her sister was disappointed with her findings at their hometown. Therefore, she was broadening her horizon to include the neighboring town. She would cast her net wider, so to speak. And based on past experience, no one would try to stop her.
Now this very day, as she tended to a customer that had come to carry their iron bars. A magnificent carriage stopped right in front of the workshop. It turned out it was a royal carriage, carrying the prince. The great grand-son of the wildly notorious and publicly disliked king. With his great-grand father's rebellion and a historically unforeseen division. Theirs was now a slowly deteriorating influence and kingdom. But a kingdom, nonetheless. One of the wheels in the carriage had come loose, while the royal entourage traveled across town. And they had been directed to the only and metal-smith in the small town.
She offered the prince and his aide seats, which they politely declined. Then she scurried to the back, to find her father. A week after that fateful encounter, the metal-smith received word from the royals. He was complimented on his daughter’s hospitality and efficiency. And then he was invited along with his family to the royal castle.
Spokes person, suspect person:
"The session is now dismissed." The first magistrate announced. After he slammed a small wooden stick on the long and sturdy bench. Murmuring sounds erupted almost immediately, as shuffling feet began to head out of the chamber. All that activity halted abruptly, when Dezen the sixth magistrate. Yelled out from his seat and position, where he appeared not to have moved. Unlike his fellows, when the session ended.
"But you still have not told us the conclusion of the murder investigation. What decision, have we as a group unconsciously or you as the leader deliberately arrived at? Do we not as a ruling panel? Who have at some point or another, contributed to the final result. Deserve to know?" He raised his brow and produced a crooked smile, as he looked at the head of the committee.
“Magistrate Dezen,” started the first magistrate slowly and deliberately. Then he lowered his head momentarily. Appearing to be leafing through or reading the parchment leaflets, in front of him. Or maybe he was just gathering his thoughts together. Searching for the right words and approach, for his often belligerent challenger and opposer.
“The final results and conclusion of the murder investigations, are not yet available to the panel and/or to the public. His majesty the king would have to review it first. Then and only then, can we make any disclosures. So on that note....” He paused before continuing, seeing that he was now getting the attention of most in the room. The previous noisy exodus had ceased, when Dezen had started his loud inquiry.
“Since you are obviously very concerned about the outcome of the investigations. I am sure you might have heard, that a couple of very key leaflets are missing from the investigation's bundle in the record room. Apparently someone removed them from there. Do you have any idea as to who, why or what may have happened?” He stopped and fixed his gaze on the magistrate. Who seemed to squirm initially, but then quickly regained his composure. Before he shot back, angrily and defensively.
“Why would I know anything about missing investigation leaflets, from the records room? Why are you asking me and not everyone else? For what reason, have you singled me out this day?”
The shuffling and movement, erupted once again. Only this time, those who were not already doing so. Were now turning to look at the sixth magistrate.
Taking back and care of business:
“Did I not tell you, to get that coven back into function again.” The ‘fly-lord’ barked at Heinus, the first monitor. That one did not flinch or move. He just fixed his cold gaze, at a spot beyond the great mirror. Their master did not like them arguing or defending themselves. And he was also highly averse to eye contact.
The monitor stood still, starring at the imaginary thing that had his attention. He was used to his leader’s tirade and would wait till the bellowing was over. Besides he had absolutely no feelings that could be hurt. Therefore, the only reason he would attempt to respond or exonerate himself. Would be to buy himself as much time as possible. So he could cause more gratifying damages and chaos, to the lower yet glorified race.
It was embedded in their dark depraved nature, to produce, feed-on and relish evil. Another reason he also would defend himself, was to avoid being roasted earlier than necessary. An eternity of fiery torment and anguish, did not have to begin at the moment.
“It will be my lord. We just need to eliminate the obstructive vessel. We just have to get rid of the cause of the cessation. In fact, I plan on taking care of that tonight.”
“Need, plan and care, are hardly welcome or sufficient words in this place.” Snarled the dark prince. “The longer it takes, the more ground we loose. It has to start right now!”
“Certainly my lord, certainly.” Submitted Heinus, as he walked over to the great mirror.
A warning signal flashed at him when he got there. But he purposely ignored it. The flicker of light was slowly advancing, towards ‘shiny-shoes’ territory. Since he had just been deemed incompetent, he thought. Let the dark lord deal with it himself. After all, he claimed to be the ‘all-knowing’. Though the 'fly-lords' defeat, was also ultimately and devastatingly theirs also. He would rather send Xitus a warning signal….
Within hours, minutes and/or seconds. Or whatever would translate as a timeless stretch, between both worlds. A small legion was dispatched. The ominous forces, slithered into the high priestess’ coven like shifting shadows. Agitating everything in their wake as they moved. They were to quench the opposing life. And with her death, kill and destroy every binding oath of protection. Resisting aggressively, the influence and interruption of light.
.