Chapter5.Ashburne
703 Words
.Chapter 5 Ashburne
At the Council grounds, the walls rose tall and imposing, declaring the importance of this vast estate. Inside one of the grand chambers, Lord Davian Voryne stood listening.
“The witches are growing bolder, their chaos slipping out of control,” Elder Valerius stated gravely. “I’ve dispatched Rain to the North—reports say they’ve uncovered new leads there.”
Davian settled leisurely onto a couch, as if the chamber belonged to him. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d handled your duties properly from the start,” he replied, tone sharp and sarcastic.
Though Valerius outranked him, the younger Lord showed deference to no one. The Elder simply ignored the jab—he was long accustomed to Davian’s manner.
“A certain town has drawn my attention,” Valerius paused, studying him closely. “Ashburne.”
“Ashburne,” Davian answered instantly, his eyes bright with sharp understanding. “Ruled by Magistrate Thomas Vane. A human, but one with far-reaching connections… which makes me wonder. It’s known as a peaceful place, quiet in trade.”
“I received reports from my men stationed there,” Davian continued, standing to his full height. “It was struck by an attack—or so it seemed. Everything was swept clean and covered up by the Magistrate himself. My men witnessed the aftermath but could not intervene; they had to remain hidden. Most telling of all: the markings and ground patterns were not those of a common raid.” He locked eyes with the Elder.
“A ritual…” Valerius murmured.
“I shall travel there to inspect the site myself,” Davian decided. “And keep this from the other Council members—we both know there is a traitor in our midst.”
He turned to leave, but had barely stepped out of the chamber when a voice called after him.
“Off so soon, Voryne?”
Davian glanced sideways. Minister Caelian Thorne stood by the corridor pillar—
Minister Caelian Thorne carried the weight of decades like a crown—tall, lean, and upright, though silver streaks ran thick through his dark hair, and lines of wisdom edged his eyes. His face was pale, refined, and calm, yet his gaze remained piercing—bright, watchful, never missing a single detail. He wore robes of deep charcoal and rich indigo, stitched with fine silver thread that glinted faintly like starlight, marking his high rank.
“Business doesn’t wait for old men to finish gossiping,” Davian replied coolly.
“Bold words,” Caelian chuckled, falling into step beside him. “You’ve always marched as though you own every stone in this fortress.”
“I might as well—at least I don’t hide behind titles and fine words.”
“Careful,” Caelian’s tone turned light but edged. “One day that tongue of yours will offend the wrong ally.”
“Only those weak enough to take offense.”
“And where does this sudden haste take you?”
“None of your concern, Minister.”
“Everything within these walls is my concern. Or perhaps… beyond them, too?” Caelian’s gaze sharpened. “You’re not hunting alone again, are you?”
“I do not require permission to move.”
“True. But the Council worries when you vanish—especially now.”
"you don't need to worry about that minister cus I have my way of appearing back " He retorted before walking ahead, leaving Caelian watching him go with a thoughtful, narrowed gaze.
Resumed Journey
Outside, Mr. Rogers waited with the carriage. It was grand and steady, built for long travels. Davian stepped in.
“Where to, my Lord?” Rogers called from the driver’s seat.
“Ashburne,” Davian said, settling back and closing his eyes. The carriage
rumbled forward, leaving the Council grounds behind.
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