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Ashes of Gold
The vigilante

The vigilante

The walls of the great hall were spattered with fresh blood, again. The body was gone, on its way to join the fourteen other men at the cemetery, yet the familiar, suffocating stench of death clung to the air. A small group of guards were gathered around the scene, murmuring among themselves. They all wondered the same thing—who did it?

Across the room, a young man entered, head high and back arched. Immediately, all four men fell to their knees, heads bowed as the man swept past them, stopping only to gaze at the blood-spattered floor. His face was blank; impossible to read. After a moment, he himself knelt, pulling off his gloves. “Saoirse, was it?”

The men glanced at one another before one replied, “Yes, Sir.”

The man traced his fingers along the marble floor, lost in thought. A frown spread across his face as he murmured to himself. “What a shame.” His blue eyes darkened as he wiped his hand, staining his white trousers. “I liked him.”

His head turned to the men behind him, still on their knees, gazing at him in awe. He blinked. “You didn’t have to kneel.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The man closest to him huffed. “But sir—”

“There’s no need for titles, please, I’m no better than any of you.” standing up, he straightened his bright coat, now spotted crimson. “Just call me Asher.”

The man nodded. “Of course, Pri—Asher.”

Asher gave a grim smile, and, with one last regretful look at the scene, turned his back. “I will find someone to clean this up immediately.” He had barely cleared the hall when a voice called after him.

“Wait, Prince Asher!”

Asher stopped and looked back, eyes wide. “What is it?”

“Do–” The rugged man at the front of the group drew in a breath. “Do you have any leads yet?” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I know it’s not my place, but—”

Asher paused, took a few steps back toward his soldiers, and started to speak, quick and low. “No, not as of now, but you all should listen closely.” His eyes darted to each of his men as he continued. “I trust you, and certainly don’t want any of you to get hurt. All I know is this killer is cunning, and he’s probably in these walls as we speak.” He gritted his teeth, then sighed, frustration etched in his young face as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Watch your backs, my brothers, or else you might find a bullet in them.”

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