It was difficult to understand what was going on. Inessa somehow knew she was asleep but didn’t realize it until she felt sunlight on her skin. It was warm. She should be awake. But she wanted to sleep so desperately.

“Indenuel,” she whispered, feeling her fingers moving.

“Inessa?” That was not Indenuel. It was Adosina. She kept her mouth closed, fearing she had given herself away. “Can you hear me?”

“Keep pulling, Ana. She’s coming to,” Rosa said on the other side of her.

“This is inappropriate! This is something only High Elder Dalius should be doing,” an unfamiliar voice said.

“High Elder Dalius wouldn’t be allowed in Inessa’s room without my father present. He is taking far too long to get here, and I assure you, Ana is more than capable.”

Nathaniel? What was he doing here? Not just on the other side of the door of her room, but here at the house. He should be away, fighting Kiam. What happened at the battle?

“Indenuel.” She couldn’t help but let his name slip again as she tried to sit up.

“Easy, Inessa. There are a lot of demons keeping you asleep right now,” Rosa said.

Inessa blinked, her vision coming back. Rosa and Adosina were on either side of her on the bed. Ana was at the front, making a pulling motion.

“This is a delicate situation. If she isn’t careful, she could release those demons into the city,” the guard said.

“She’s cleared,” Ana said, holding something in her hands.

The guard threw the door open and walked in, which is when Inessa realized the string of her nightclothes was useless and she was showing far too much cleavage. Rosa and Adosina stood, talking at once.

“This is inappropriate, sir,” Rosa said.

“You cannot come into her room when she’s only in her bedclothes!” Adosina said.

“I have a note sighed by Acting Senior High Elder Navir himself,” the guard said.

“And it still gives you no right to walk in here while she’s dressed like this,” Adosina said.

Nathaniel walked in, taking the guard’s shoulder. “I assure you, good sir, these women will not let Inessa leave. Come on. We’ll wait outside.”

Inessa felt sick to her stomach as the door closed. She clutched the blankets around her, watching the women. What was happening? She barely remembered anything except Indenuel looking at her. Telling her he loved her.

“Addy,” Inessa said, hardly a whisper. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

“There’s a black carriage out front,” Adosina said, folding her arms and glaring at the door.

A black carriage. Meant to take a person into the dungeon. And a guard here so focused on arresting her that he would walk in while she was in her bedclothes.

“Do you know who put you to sleep?” Ana asked, dropping her hands to her side.

Inessa closed her eyes. She didn’t know what she was thinking. One secret night with Indenuel wasn’t going to fix all her problems. What it did was help remind her what it was like to be happy. Her pain numbed. She was certain it was Indenuel who drugged her. How, she didn’t know, but who else could it be?

“It’s going to be alright, Inessa. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I swear it,” Adosina said, rubbing her shoulders as Rosa got a dress out for her to get into.

“The war? What happened… is it…” Inessa started to say.

“We don’t know,” Ana said.

“Indenuel. Is Indenuel alright?” Inessa hated how much her voice gave her away.

Adosina frowned, looking at Ana. “No one has heard news about him in weeks.”

Inessa nodded, covering her mouth. Her hands trembled, and she refused to talk. Somehow the guard was here for her, and somehow the High Elders knew she slept with Indenuel, and yet she was most afraid for Indenuel.

The women helped her get dressed, and once she was done, Ana opened the door and the guard walked in again. He and Nathaniel were talking, and Nathaniel had put him at ease to the point where he was chuckling when the door opened.

“Is she ready?” the guard asked.

Inessa found herself falling back on a habit. She placed her hands in front of her, looking down, trying to look as meek as possible. “I am, sir.”

The irons appeared on her wrists before the guard grabbed her elbow and led her out of the house. Adosina followed, demanding to know the entire situation.

“Addy,” Nathaniel said to dissuade her.

“Whatever issues you have with the arrest may be taken up with the person who signed the warrant, which is Acting Senior High Elder Navir himself,” the guard said.

“I will take it up with him. I will make sure he followed the law,” Adosina said.

“Addy, shh,” Nathaniel said.

Inessa said nothing. Nathaniel glanced at her, the concern obvious in his face. She stepped into the bright light before she was forced into the carriage. No one had to tell her why she was being arrested. She already knew. Wonderful things rarely lasted long in her life.

***

Martin walked down the stairs to the dungeon, opening the door to Indenuel’s cell. Dalius was sitting there, still pulling the corruption out, his eyes closed. Martin walked forward, and Dalius stopped, opening his eyes. He gathered the corruption that had come out of Indenuel, shielding it with his own peace shield as he smothered it.

“Am I allowed to leave? I feel like a prisoner here,” Dalius asked, slight sarcasm hitting his voice.

“You are making your wrong decisions right. It is what every person in this dungeon is meant to do here,” Martin said.

Dalius said nothing. He simply straightened, brushing off his robes before leaving the cell. Martin waited until Dalius’ steps receded before walking closer to Indenuel. Without meaning to, he touched the boy’s forehead, feeling how frightfully cold he was.

“Has he ever complained of the cold?” Martin asked.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“No, sir. I think he’s used to it,” Tolomon said.

Martin nodded, blinking back tears. “I’ll bring blankets tomorrow, just in case.”

“Thank you.”

Martin saw the marks. He wasn’t sure how long Dalius had been down here, but it was working. Slowly. He was still terrified at how dark it looked, but it was getting better. Martin reached out slowly, knowing exactly how his powers would feel if they were as strong as they had been, and feeling nothing there. He placed a finger on the frigid black mark at his shoulder. Indenuel gasped, his eyes still closed, before he turned his head, mumbling something through the mask. Martin let go of the mark. Tolomon appeared by Indenuel’s side, watching the boy’s face carefully before taking the edges of his shirt and moving it back on his shoulders.

“He is in good hands, Tolomon. Thank you,” Martin said.

“I don’t know, sir. I couldn’t tell anyone about what was going on. It was driving me mad,” Tolomon said.

Martin nodded, watching his son’s closest friend tying Indenuel’s shirt back together, not hiding the emotions of worry and concern on his face. “You once called me Martin.”

“I meant no disrespect, sir. It was a moment of deep confusion and hurt for me,” Tolomon said.

“Which means I lost your respect in that moment,” Martin said.

Tolomon finished tying Indenuel’s shirt back on, not looking at him. “You gained it back by punching Navir.”

Martin smiled, looking down at his hand that had started to bruise. There was still a little swelling, too. No one else had noticed it. Tolomon motioned him over before placing his fingers on his temple, doing a circular motion as healing power poured into him. Martin closed his eyes, sensing the healing power a little, realizing Tolomon was now a stronger healer than him.

Tolomon broke away, and Martin looked at his hand, wiggling his fingers. “Thank you.”

“An honor, sir,” Tolomon said.

Martin tried to smile again. “You know, I’d like to think by asking people to not use sir, or my title of High Elder, I could somehow be more approachable. That it would be easier for people to come to me with their struggles.” Tolomon glanced at Martin as he gathered up the chains but said nothing. “I know punching Navir was needed, but that act alone won’t heal the decades of trauma the Graduate program has caused you.”

It was there, the slight tremor of Tolomon’s hands that wouldn’t have been noticeable except he was holding chains, and they began to shake. Tolomon set them down, looking at the floor, running a hand through his short hair. “I’ve watched a lot of friends crack. Looked away as they murdered innocents. I thought, since I hadn’t done anything, it wouldn’t get to me, but it has. I’ve cracked too, I can feel it.”

Martin nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. “It’s going to take years to fix what we’ve done, and decades for it to heal.”

“The women? The children?” Tolomon asked.

Martin couldn’t look Tolomon in the eye. “I pray they are resting easy in the next life, and I know we High Elders are going to suffer in hell because of it. I will try and do everything in my power to stop this, but please give me the compassion and mercy I need to fix it. It might be a few years before I can make this right. And even in making it right, I will still go to hell.”

Tolomon gave a slow nod. “It’s not just women and children, is it? The assignment I received. Two sisters. No questions.” Tolomon about said something but looked as though he was having a hard time getting it out. There were tears in his eyes. “Do you know what they did? Why they deserved to die?”

Martin studied Tolomon, knowing he would be going against all the secrets he held as High Elder by letting him know. But the man was clearly suffering. A quiet suffering but suffering all the same.

“I can guess. If you are willing to take on another secret for the time being,” Martin said.

Tolomon nodded. “I’d like to know.”

“If Reynaldo told you they were sisters, that’s a term we use to keep the truth a secret. They most likely weren’t sisters. They were lovers,” Martin said.

Tolomon frowned. “Lovers?” Martin nodded, waiting for the questions. “As in…” The man looked genuinely confused.

“There are individuals who feel an intimate love towards members of their same gender,” Martin said.

“And you…” Tolomon again tried to organize his thoughts. “And you murder them?”

Martin winced. He couldn’t help it. He tried telling himself the lie that helped him sleep at night. That he was simply looking the other way. He wasn’t actually the one making their deaths look like accidents. Tolomon had never done one of these assignments, but there was still a deep hurt in his soul. Martin never wrote down the assignments to have them murdered, but he didn’t stop it, either. Tolomon had experienced hell by his inaction, and Martin would go there for his.

“Why?” Tolomon asked, his voice cracking in emotion. “Why did they need to die?”

Martin sighed, not able to look at Tolomon. “We believe individuals who feel this way are dangerous.”

Tolomon’s frown deepened. “Are they?” Martin had no answer to that. Tolomon studied him further, his frown deepening. “Did those two women commit a horrible sin? Did they murder? Steal? Lie? Cheat? Did they wreak havoc in their town? Or did they just love each other?”

Martin felt it again. The crushing weight on his soul, and the knowledge that once he died, the demons would drag him into hell to remind him just how wicked a man he really was. And of everything that happened recently, he had a plethora of sins for the demons to feast on. Tolomon picked up the chain again, wrapping it around Indenuel.

“I don’t understand why those women have those feelings toward each other, sir, and I’m not going to judge what I don’t understand. What I do know is murdering them isn’t the answer to it.” Tolomon locked the chains back up. He sighed, looking across the way. “Those two women died in a swimming accident. My old friend Fish got the assignment instead. We called him Fish because he could hold his breath for a very long time.” Tolomon wiped a tear from his eye. “Pretty sure he was responsible for a lot of those kinds of murders. The man didn’t last a year before he took his own life. Discovered his body at the bottom of a well. He made it look like a murder during one of his bodyguard assignments. It’s what the record says, but I saw inconsistencies in it. He killed himself and made it look like a secret murder. Maybe he was trying to make up for all the other kills he made look like accidents.” Tolomon held his forehead, letting out an unsteady breath. “They didn’t even have to send him on an impossible mission to die. He was dragged to Hell. Did so quietly, not even putting up a fight. I was told he looked exhausted but resigned. The face most of my common class Graduates had when they-” Tolomon’s voice finally broke. He looked down, gripping the table, crying. “Dammit, Martin. We don’t have years to solve this problem. There are a lot of good men breaking under the pressures, a lot of innocents dying for no reason. I can’t keep watching them break. I can’t keep pretending everything is fine.” Tolomon touched Indenuel’s shoulder, looking away. “A piece of me dies with them, and there’s only so much more I can handle before I’m left just a shell.”

Martin sank into a chair, tears in his own eyes. The orders he was given, knowing Tolomon had taken on too much. This was a confession, and Tolomon was unstable. The man needed a reassignment. An impossible one to give him a different type of rest. But Martin simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. That was murder. And murder was wrong.

“There are a lot of messes I need to clean up in the High Elders. It’s corrupt. Almost too corrupt.” He instinctively looked down at Indenuel’s chest, thinking of Inessa. “We have a dark red mark of our own, collectively. It is going to take time.” Martin paused, then stood up, reaching over to touch Tolomon’s arm as he wiped his tears with the other one. “Tolomon, you have carried far more than anyone was ever expected to. I will not blame you if you need to set it down and walk away.”

“You want to reassign me?” Tolomon asked, almost numbly. “Send me somewhere to die?"

"I want you to rest, but I don’t want you to die. I couldn’t handle it. If you need to… to fake your death and run away, I will not intervene. I will keep the High Elders off your trail. I promise I will keep cleaning these messes while you’re away,” Martin said.

Tolomon was considering it. He saw it in the way the weight seemed to lift off his shoulders. But then he looked down at Indenuel, and the weight returned. “I can’t. It would kill him.”

“And staying could get you killed,” Martin said.

Tolomon nodded. “It might, yes. But it’s alright. Indenuel is an idiot. He’s obnoxious. I poke fun at him too much. But I consider him my brother. I can’t leave the poor man now with how dark that mark is. He is the most important person in the world, and I can keep him from cracking for as long as possible.”

Martin nodded. Tolomon folded his arms, looking away, and Martin thought he saw a little of the weight lifted off his shoulders. “Thank you, Tolomon. I appreciate you telling me all this. I hope it has lightened your burden a little.”

“It’s helped me see my purpose, yes. Thank you, sir.”

Martin tried to smile. “You still insist on calling me sir?”

Tolomon met Martin’s gaze, sorting through some things in his mind. “You and Sara took me in like I was one of your own children, and for that I will always be in your debt. I cannot call you by your given name because it seemed wrong to do after you helped save my life and my career when I was fifteen. I can’t call you Father, because I know you’re not, but sir feels like a close enough title.”

Martin nodded, remembering just like him that Tolomon wasn’t actually one of his sons, even though he always considered him one. “Then I thank you. I shall strive to be worthy of your respect again.” Tolomon finally smiled. Martin gave the man a hug, and Tolomon hugged him back. “I will be back tomorrow with blankets.” Martin broke away, heading toward the door. “And would you like some of Sara’s cooking? I’m not sure what they feed you down here, but I can always bring a basket with me.”

“I will always accept Sara’s cooking,” Tolomon said.

“Alright, I will see you tomorrow morning,” Martin said.

“See you tomorrow, sir.”