10. Father (I) - Olster the Protagonist

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“I hope she doesn’t come back,” said Olster. “I’m tired of pretending to be her friend.”

“Yeah, she’s not one of us! Even if she does the dare, I still won’t accept her into our group.”

“No one will believe her anyway.”

-

When he and the boys tramped back to the election party, Olster immediately knew something was wrong. The four of them hadn’t been gone too long. Ten minutes. Fifteen, maybe.

The yard was empty.

“Did your dad bring the party inside?” asked Huck Bastion [Bramblebog Villager].

“He must’ve,” replied Olster.

His mother, Liane Spurline-Wealcroft, hated having people in the manor. She worried their skin and clothes carried filth and disease. There was no world in which his mother allowed dozens of villagers into their home unless she had no choice.

Considering how his father pampered her every whim…

Olster brushed imaginary dirt from his pristine white shirt. “They’re probably in the tobacco room.”

Huck Bastion led the way. The teenager was sixteen and thought that because he was older that he was in charge. The other two boys - Wombert Rowe and Bellamy Triskelion - looked to Olster first and waited for him to follow Huck before walking behind him.

Truthfully? Olster hated them all.

At least Kindred Holt, for all her sins, made things interesting in Bramblebog.

When Kindred returned - terrified out of her mind and finally subservient to her betters - Olster supposed he could go easy on her. Out of all the droll Bramblebog girls, she appealed to him the most.

If she begged, he might even request a marriage between them after his Spring Rites.

But only if she begged.

Wealcroft Manor was huge in its emptiness. Portraits in burnished bronze frames lined the walls, and they all seemed to be staring at Olster, watching, waiting. Olster sneered at them. The invisible and ever-present pressure on his shoulders increased and he had the sudden urge to scrape their faces off.

Muffled shouting carried down the hallway.

The four boys ran into the parlor room. Everything was in disarray. A storm. In the middle of the chaos was Kindred’s mother.

Mielle Holt contorted on the love seat, clutching her head. A trickle of dried blood stained the skin under her ears. Father Linus [Priest] hunched over her like a mother hen, patting her brow with a handkerchief and whispering to her.

She was a small, slender woman with eerily gray eyes. A vixen, still. There was no doubt why Callum Holt had taken the hit to his reputation by marrying her. Not just a Ravenbone, but a bastard too. No man had ever come to claim the woman as their daughter.

If Olster remembered correctly, Mielle Holt was Ferrin Ravenbone’s cousin. They had grown up together as brother and sister, until Mielle decided to seduce Callum Holt, escaping the Ravenbone hovel.

Olster could only admire her ambitious spirit.

“Olster,” [Mayor] Wealcroft put an insistent hand on his shoulder. The man’s expression was deadly serious. “Where is Kindred?”

“What are you talking about?”

Mielle Holt screamed and clutched her head and blood wept from her nose and eyes. “She’s gone… she’s gone…” she cried. Callum Holt [Hunter] paced the carpeted floor like a pissed off [Bog Tiger].

His father forcefully turned Olster’s shoulder so that he faced him and only him. “Mrs. Holt is prone to… visions. She believes her daughter is dead. Is she?”

Dead?

Suddenly, it felt cold in the room.

Olster tried to brush off his father’s grip but the man was unyielding. “Why is everyone putting so much stock in some crazy woman’s delusions? I haven’t seen Kindred since the start of the party!”

The [Mayor] nodded. “Then where did you and your friends go just now?”

“Nowhere!” Glancing behind him, he searched for support from the three boys. However no one stood near him. Huck, Wombert, and Bellamy were being accosted by their families in the corners of the room.

“Look at me. I won’t ask again.” The golden monocle flashed. “Tell me what happened, quickly, so we can manage the situation. I’m on your side, son. If you killed the girl, so what? But I need to know what to tell Callum.”

Olster couldn’t help his eyes wandering to Callum Holt. The man was a [Hunter].

And he’d been a [Hunter] since he was eleven years old.

A prodigy. A monster.

All of a sudden the trouble he was in slammed into him.

Olster’s father was many things, but first and foremost he was logical. The [Mayor] shouldn’t be taking a woman’s delusions seriously - especially a Ravenbone woman’s - but he was. Did that mean his father believed her? Did that mean…

Kindred Holt actually died in the Dark Forest?

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“Wasn’t she given the dark baptism?” whispered Olster furiously. “You said that anyone who receives it can’t be touched by the Dark Forest. That no beast, no spirit - you said - “

The [Mayor]’s face blanched and his lips thinned into nothing. “We are mortals. How much of the Four Fallen Kings’ power do you think we can harness? Our version of the dark baptism is only a pale imitation of the real thing. Any beast or spirit of sufficient power can overcome the protection.”

“Then what’s the point of even doing it!”

“Because its better than nothing.”

Finally the hand on Olster’s shoulder released. “I’ve only ever told you how dangerous the Dark Forest is. People who go in there are never seen again.”

“Not Raziel,” argued Olster.

“He’s a Ravenbone. Don’t compare yourself to him.”

Olster’s throat bobbed.

The [Mayor] sighed. “Kindred’s death was a tragic accident. You boys didn’t know any better… that will be the story we tell her family. We don't want to lie to Mielle, she might have more visions.” The [Mayor] paused. “As for the village grapevine, I’ll come up with something else. It’s best if your name isn’t attached to a tragedy like this. After all, one day you’ll become the [Mayor]. Then after that…” he shook his head. “We’ll save that talk for another time.”

The way Benedict Wealcroft spoke about Kindred’s death told Olster that his father didn’t believe in his innocence. It irked him.

Olster hadn’t wanted her to die.

He thought the Dark Forest might scare her a little. Kindred was always so spirited and arrogant despite her questionable bloodline. She had so much to be ashamed of. She needed to know her place and be taken down a peg.

Kindred would’ve returned, sullen that she hadn’t been able to find the White Pillar. From then on, Olster could taunt her, saying that she wasn’t really a True Family member, and that she didn’t belong with them. Eventually, she’d break down. No one would be willing to pick up the scraps except the magnanimous and gracious Olster Wealcroft. Then, Kindred would be grateful to him. She'd bow and scrape for more of his approval.

And wouldn't that be embarrassing for Raziel?

Back then, Kindred's dark baptism protection hadn’t even crossed his mind. Of course Olster knew going into the forest was suicidal and that she might die. Still, he hadn’t wanted her to die. Not really.

What he definitely didn’t want was all this fuss. Who knew Mrs. Holt would collapse and have a vision of her daughter’s death? Why couldn’t Kindred have died an hour later, long after Olster and the boys had re-entered the party?

Even in death Kindred was a massive pain.

When his father finally spoke to Kindred’s parents, Olster made himself scarce. His father continued to spin the villagers’ perceptions for days afterwards - Kindred had run away, Raziel had lured her -

Olster didn’t quite understand why his father cared so much.

They were Wealcrofts. The richest family. The most powerful family. So what if everyone figured out that he played a part in Kindred’s death?

He was a Wealcroft.

Bramblebog belonged to him. No one could touch him.

//

Olster posed in front of his bedroom mirror, admiring himself.

His body was a blank canvas. Clothes were like paint - dashes of shape and color. He owned a lot of expensive pieces but preferred a simple white shirt and dark trousers. He didn’t dress up often, but his uncle was coming for supper. Olster respected the man. Father Linus left his birthright as the oldest Wealcroft male to become a [Priest] of all things.

Instead of living in luxury, his uncle stayed in a stone chamber in the church.

Father Linus could’ve had the world. But he gave it up to do what he wanted. The man lived for himself and only himself. Olster couldn’t begrudge him too much - after all, if his uncle had become the [Mayor], then where would that leave Olster?

A soft knock came at the door. “Mr. Wealcroft, supper is ready.”

He knew the feminine voice better than his own mother’s. Olster opened the door to reveal Isara Ravenbone. She stood demurely, her eyes to the floor.

“Then why are you standing in my way?” Olster shouldered her aside, sauntering down to the dining room.

The table was covered in plates. It smelled incredible.

He took a seat opposing Father Linus [Priest], who was already scooping bone broth into his bowl.

“Where’s mother and father?”

“Liane isn’t feeling well today,” said Father Linus. Olster sighed and rolled his eyes. “Benedict paid a visit to the Holts earlier. It seems he’s running late.”

“Again with the Holts,” muttered Olster. “It’s been a week since Kindred died. What more needs to be said?”

“Well, since she ran away, we can’t hold a funeral for her. Your father is working with her parents to come up with a suitable alternative to honor their daughter.”

Olster slouched in his chair. “Great.”

Father Linus cut a piece of chicken breast in half. “Olster… if you were anyone else, Callum Holt would have your head on a spike in front of his house.”

“I’m a Wealcroft. He can’t touch me.”

“That’s not what I mean,” said Father Linus, calmly placing the slice of chicken into his mouth. He chewed. “If Benedict had fathered another spawn with even half your talent, you’d definitely be dead right now.”

Olster looked at his uncle strangely. “What are you talking about? No one would dare - “

“Callum Holt would dare.”

“Why am I the only one being blamed? What about Huck, Bellamy, and Wombert?”

Father Linus said thinly, “Because you’re a Wealcroft.”

Olster’s blood spiked hotly. The whole thing hadn’t even been his idea. Huck Bastion was the one who suggested that they bring Kindred to the creepy shed. Olster merely followed along. Why was he getting all the criticism? At the end of the day, no one had forced Kindred to run into the Dark Forest. She was responsible for her own actions.

Even Father Linus couldn’t help but needle him about the situation. He couldn’t catch a break from anyone!

The white-haired boy smacked the table and several dishes clattered to the floor.

“She’s dead. Get over it!” he yelled. With fire in his dark eyes, he turned to Isara Ravenbone, who stood silently in the corner. “Well, what are you waiting for? Clean this all up!”

Mrs. Ravenbone bent down to pick up the food. Olster felt a sudden pique of rage and he kicked her in the stomach. All of the scraps in her hands fell to the floor, and she scrambled to pick them up again.

Father Linus steepled his fingers and looked at him above his circular sunglasses. His eyes were ice cold. Olster felt a jolt of fear down his spine.

“Yes, you are very lucky that you’re an only child,” said the [Priest].

“Why?”

“When you were two weeks old, you spoke your first word. You can paint foreign places and creatures perfectly, despite only having read about them in books. The chances are high that you’ll have at least a B-Rank aptitude, unlike your father.” The man paused. “With the proper resources, your advancement to Level 1 is a guarantee.”

“I - I know!”

“No. No, you don’t. You have a purpose, Olster. A destiny,” said the [Priest]. “The only reason why everyone walks on eggshells around you is because, one day, you will become Bramblebog’s next [Demon Mayor].”

Olster was at a loss for words.

Father Linus smiled dryly. “So what’s one death, when you’ll prevent so many more?”

//

When Olster awakened his soul the first thing he did was open his Card Repository.

A pure black card stared back at him from his first spell slot.

Watching. Waiting.