Featured Fiction Writing

Inside the Graves Manor: Chapter 3

by Sylvia Renda

Untitled Story: Part 2

by Danny Cianchetta

The next morning Derby woke up in a chair next to the Master’s bed, the Master’s hand grasped his, and his crippled leg was hanging off one side of the bed as he snored. Derby pulled his hand away. 

The Master slowly blinked his eyes open glancing at Derby, then rubbing his eyes and sitting up, then did a double take at Derby. 

“W-wh-why are y-y-y-you in m-m-my r-r-room?” he stammered, “Wh-why am I-I-I in m-m-my r-r-room?” 

“Well since you fell asleep in the coach I carried you in and tucked you into bed,” Derby explained, the Master scowled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Wh-why d-d-do yo-you tr-treat m-me like a ch-ch-child?” He grumbled looking around for his cane, “And wh-where is-s-s my can-n-ne?” he scooted to the corner of the bed, “We-were you tr-tr-trying t-t-t-to ki-ki-kill me ag-again?!” 

“No,” Derby said simply, picking up the Master’s cane which had rolled under the bed, “If I still wanted to kill you I would have let the poison finish you off.” 

“I I I I…” The Master stammered, “G-g-get out-t-t s-s-so I c-can ch-ch-cha-change!” 

Derby got out hastily as the Master was already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He waited in the hallway, hoping the Master wouldn’t need help. 

Just then a very mopey Simon walked by, glancing up at Derby briefly, then he froze, “Is the Master alright?!” he asked suddenly. 

Derby looked confused then pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against “Yeah he’s fine…”

“Good. Cause Last night I had a feeling that something bad had happened to him!” Simon sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve, Derby stiffened, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the small boy skip down the hall. 

The door creaked open and the Master limped out, dressed in his usual black suit coat with red accents and gold buttons, black dress pants, and a white button up shirt underneath. He clearly hadn’t brushed his hair as it was in its usual messy display, his goggles on top of his head.  

As he followed the Master to his study, a realization dawned upon him. Willis Inc. thought that the Master was dead, Derby was expected to return to work, he needed to leave…

He cleared his throat tapping the Master on the shoulder, “Er…Master?” Master Graves glanced over still limping, signaling Derby to continue. 

“Well uh…you see…the only reason I came…to work for you was because I was er…I was hired by the company I work for to kill you…and now they believe you are dead…and expect me to…come back to work…” Derby said fidgeting with his tie. 

The Master froze, “B-b-b-but-t you wo-work f-f-for m-m-me…” 

Debry bit his lip “Yeah…but they pay more and- I don’t know just…it’s hard to live with the fact that I tried to kill you…I feel so bad and-” 

The Master dropped his cane and grabbed Derby’s fidgeting hands looking up at the taller man, “B-b-but you c-c-can quit-t!” he stuttered, “An-and I c-c-can rais-se your s-s-s-salary!” 

Derby winced, he had grown rather fond of the Master, and didn’t want to say goodbye so soon, apparently neither did the Master. It was funny, they were polar opposites and somehow got along so well. Mostly. The Master’s leg gave out and he fell forward landing on Derby’s chest, Derby caught him unlike the first time this happened, and pushed him back up, the Master’s face was turning red again, watching as Derby picked up his cane for him. 

“I-I-I d-d-d-don’t-t-t wan-t-t you t-t-to leave…” the Master said quietly, “You ch-changed me so much…i-in a g-g-g-good way…” he admitted.

Derby didn’t answer, looking at the ground, maybe he could stay. Maybe. 

The Master continued his rant, “A-a-and I n-n-never th-th-thought th-that-t I co-could fa-fa-fall in love…not af-af-aft-after my wife…” he trailed off his eyes glowing, his whole body tensing, then he snapped out of it, “B-b-but th-then I met-t you and I…I th-think I love you…” he said softly, looking at his shoes, “I-I don’t-t even know wh-what love f-f-feels like but…I know I l-love you…” 

  Derby froze, blinking he knew the Master liked him, he noticed all the signs, the flirting, the weird aversion the Master had for women, the way he blushed everytime Derby helped him up, his odd trust towards Derby. All of it. 

“I uh…I don’t know how to respond to that…” he said eventually, “You…I…” 

The Master looked down, fidgeting with his gloves, “J-j-just con-con-consider st-staying…” he limped into his study, locking the door behind him. 

Derby went to his room and started packing his bags.

Caroline was in the living room, starting a fire in the fireplace, Iona came in, sitting down beside her. 

“What time did Derby and the Master arrive home?” Caroline asked, still focused on the fireplace. 

“About one thirty a.m…” Iona sighed, “The Master was passed out, he was probably just tired but Derby claimed he had too much to drink.” 

“But the Master doesn’t drink!” Caroline exclaimed, “That doesn’t make any sense!” 

“That’s what I said!” Iona replied, “although I forget what he told me in response…” 

“Odd…” Caroline finally managed to light the fire, and smiled proudly, closing the gate. 

Simon came running in, “Ladies! Guess what!” he exclaimed, grinning. 

“Ok first of all don’t call us ladies, you’re six, and second-” Iona was cut off by Simon. 

“I was cleaning Derby’s office, and Derby was telling the Master he had to quit and- and-” he sneezed, “and the Master said he was in love with Derby! Then Derby went to his room to pack his bags!” 

Iona put her hand over her mouth, Caroline sighed, Simon grinned. Derby quitting? It seemed almost impossible. The children had gotten so used to his presence…but now he was leaving…

Lily walked in wiping her hands on her apron, “Well that’s a relief, he ate too much anyway, I had to cook even more when he came along. Although it’s gonna be weird without him…” 

Simon sniffed “The Master’s gonna cry,” he sneered, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

The next few days were spent with Derby packing and preparing to leave. On the morning of his departure, a coach pulled up in front of the house, and Derby got up from the seat he was in in the parlor. The Master watched, biting his lip, he got up, following Derby. As he opened the door, Simon suddenly ran over to hug him. 

“Goodbye Mr. Knight,” he looked up at Derby who chuckled. 

Iona, Lily, and Caroline stood there solemnly. The Master was shaking, trying to keep himself together. Simon pulled away and Derby turned to the door. The Master limped forward and tapped Derby on the shoulder. Derby sighed and turned around, looking at the shorter man. 

“Good work Derby,” the Master looked at his shoes, “um…I-I-I…” he looked like he was trying not to cry, Derby eventually grabbed the Master’s hand and shook it firmly. 

“Pleasure working with you,” he smiled, then let go, “Goodbye Henry.” 

He turned to the door and left, closing the door behind him. 

And just like that. 

He was gone. 

The entry hall was silent, the Master’s grip on his cane tightened, he turned away, blood trickling down the side of his mouth from where he had bitten himself. He wiped his mouth then looked at the stain on his glove.

“I-I-I’m going t-t-to m-my room…” he grumbled, his expression darkening. 

He limped up the stairs, looking at the ground as he went. It was almost sad watching him, he seemed small, like he shrunk from the weight of his emotions. It was pathetic, really, he was just starting to gain trust with people. Just starting to come out of his shell. And then just like that, it was gone. 

“So…” Simon said quietly “what do we do now?”

No one spoke. 

Iona sighed, clapping her hands together, “Well I suppose we get back to work

`then! We’ve got work to do, no rest for the weary!” she chuckled at herself before walking away. 

The rest of the group soon dispersed, leaving Caroline standing in the middle of foyer, she looked at the front wall, there was a clock right above the two grand dark doors, it didn’t have a normal face, it had hands, but there were gears of the clock were showing, it was rather mesmerizing. So this was the clock that made that horrible horror inducing gong every hour.

Iona, who was sweeping the floor, noticed her looking at the clock, “It’s hard to read, and it stops working sometimes…the Master refuses to get a new one…” she said softly, “Don’t know why,” 

Caroline didn’t say anything, turning and walking towards the spiral staircase, “I’m going to go check on Master Graves,” she mumbled. 

As she walked down the hall, she began noticing some things she hadn’t before. There were portraits that were torn up hanging on the wall, people’s faces destroyed. She stared at one of the portraits, it seemed to be a family portrait, but it was hard to tell for all of the face’s were slashed out. As she continued down the hall, eventually reaching the doors to the Master’s study. 

She paused, taking a deep breath before knocking, no one replied so she pushed the door open and entered. The Master was slouched in his chair, his cane leaning against his desk, his face was buried in his hands, and his foot was tapping against the blackstone floor. 

“Uh…Master Graves?” Caroline said timidly, glancing around the room. 

“Wh-wh-what-t-t,” he said sharply, his voice cracking, he ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

“I…I wanted to check and see if you’re um..feeling well…” she fidgeted with her hands, shrinking back slightly as the Master shakily stood up. His eyes were red and puffy, he had been crying. 

“I d-don’t-t-t th-think I’ve ever felt l-lo-ove before I met-t-t Derby…” he sighed,“M-m-my ex-w-wife was-s-wasn-wasn’t-t the kind-kindest t-t-to me,” he sighed, looking at a painting on the wall, the face slashed out as well. He looked at Caroline, his eyes darkening “I-i-i-if you ar-are m-m-m-my dau-daught-daughter, I-I’d n-need t-to t-t-tell you th-th-th-tha-tha–” he cut off, pulling his hair.  

Caroline didn’t say anything, instead she watched the Master as he struggled to get the words out, buttoning and unbuttoning a gold button on his suit. 

“Wh-wh-what I’m tr-tr-trying t-t-to say is-” he swallowed, his eyes beginning to glow, Caroline could tell he was panicking, “Wh-wh-what- I- er- hmm-” he went silent, looking her in the eyes, cleared his throat, “I…I…I didn’t want…to have you…m-my ex wi-wife…did….” he said slowly looking at the ground, his whole body trembling. 

Caroline stared,  so that's why she was sent to an orphanage, her father never wanted her. Suddenly she felt anger rising up from deep within her. 

“So you left me at an orphanage because you were too pathetic to take care of me?” she spat, glaring at him. 

The Master shrank back, fidgeting with the button of his coat, “Y-y-you d-don’t-t under-under-under-” he cut off, breathing faster, clutching his chest, “I-I-I-”. 

Caroline scowled, turning around and heading to the door, she paused, then said “just so you know I’ll never think of you as my father,” she spat before slamming the door. 

She stormed down the hallway, going downstairs. Iona was waiting, she saw the angry expression on Caroline’s face and continued to busy herself with sweeping the floor. 

“How was he?” she asked cautiously, still looking at the ground. 

“He was fine,” Caroline huffed, then paused, “I’m going to the library,”  she turned on  her heel and walked back up the stairs. 

In the library, she walked over to the old wooden filing cabinet; upon opening it the smell of old parchment filled the room, she flipped through the papers, not quite sure what she was looking for. An old photograph caught her eye, she pulled it out, examining it. It appeared to be a photograph of the Master’s family; there were two boys, a husband and wife. The wife and husband looked tired, their faces wrinkled despite their younger looking age. The older boy was dressed in a well-fitted suit, while the younger one; presumably the Master, was dressed in a suit that looked a size too big, a nervous expression on his face. She put it back and continued to flip through the files, finding an old newspaper, she unfolded it reading the headline. 

Entrepreneur and Inventor Henry Graves’ Wife Murdered, suspect unknown. 

Caroline paused, thinking for a moment, then continued reading. 

On January 7th 1862, the wife of well-known inventor Henry Graves was found dead in the master bedroom of the Graves House in London. Authorities have reported she was found with multiple stab wounds. They found Henry Graves in a nearby pub in a state of extreme distress, and took him in for questioning. The London Police Chief reported “it was impossible to get a coherent response from [Henry Graves] as he was stuttering and stammering too much.”  He was later released from custody to take care of his newborn daughter, Caroline Graves. 

Caroline scoffed, more like sending her to an orphanage, she thought, and shoved the article back into the box. She sat there, contemplating the article, who had killed her? She assumed it was the Master, he had mentioned he despised his marriage. But why? Because she didn’t love him? That could have been the reason, but wouldn’t he have just dealt with it? But then again the Master didn’t seem like the most resilient person. 

Caroline got up, closing the cabinet’s door. She walked out of the library, still lost in thought, when she bumped into Simon, who was coughing. 

“You look depressed,” Simon said bluntly, wiping his nose on his sleeve. 

“The Master could have killed his wife, who was my mom,” Caroline grumbled, “Then left me in an orphanage.” 

Simon blinked, pausing for a moment, “Well…if he did kill his wife…maybe he thought he couldn’t handle parenthood…or he was just scared…he can barely take care of himself as it is…” he sniffled, looking at the ground, “It was probably hard for him…” 

“You’re seriously taking his side right now!?” Caroline exclaimed.

“Yes,” Simon shrugged, “Is that a problem?” 

“Yes-No-I mean ugh just be quiet!” Caroline snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration, “Since when are you nice!?” 

With that she stormed off, leaving Simon in silence, the young boy stood there, fidgeting with his hands before heading off down the hallway. 

Dinner was eaten in mostly silence that evening, excluding Iona’s half hearted attempts at conversation. The Master was nowhere to be seen, still locked up in his study. That night as the children all said their goodnights, Caroline noticed a red flickering glow coming from underneath the door to the Master’s study, she didn’t think much of it, and proceeded to the next floor heading up the stairs. 

Meanwhile in the Master’s study, the Master was sitting in his chair, motionless, staring blankly at the paper on his desk. Derby had left him a letter before he left, but he couldn’t bring himself to read it. He buried his face in his hands, sighing, Derby had tried to kill him. Kill him! How had his departure hurt so much?  He let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a groan of frustration. He pushed aside the letter, looking at the desk emotionlessly, his eyelids drooping. 

There was a knock at the door, Iona’s voice called out “Mas–” 

He cut her off “G-go away!” he snapped, inhaling sharply and grabbing his hair. 

He heard footsteps receding and assumed Iona had left. He slumped back down in his chair, letting out a shuddering sigh. The Master stood up shakily, staring at his twisted leg. Derby hadn’t seen him as a cripple…Derby was one of the few people who didn’t just see him as a crazy old man. Or maybe Derby did. The Master didn’t  care anymore. All he cared about was how Derby was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. And that his daughter hated him. So? The Master didn’t even know his daughter until a few months ago. And she expected him to love her like a father? He just couldn’t do that. As much as he wanted to. 

He couldn't love again.

He was broken.

Caroline stared up at the ceiling from her bed, lost in thought, she ran a hand over her face. She got out of bed, walked down the stairs and headed to the lounge. She needed to clear her mind, but as she entered she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the Master staring at the fire, trembling. 

Caroline took a step forward, the floor creaked, the Master flinched, letting out a choked sound. He turned around sharply, falling back slightly but caught himself. 

“H-h-hell-hello,” he muttered, fidgeting with his gloves, “um…” his eyes were bloodshot, he looked more miserable than usual. 

“How come you were able to love Derby and not me?” Carolfine said “You knew us for the same amount of time!” 

“We-well I-I-I d-d-don’t-t re-really ma-ma-make an ef-ef-effort to bond with-th my s-servants…” he stuttered “A-and D-derby was diff-different…”  

“But isn’t Derby a servant?” Caroline snapped, her fists clenched in anger. 

“N-n-no he was-s-s my as-as-assi-assit-t-assitant…” he bit his lip, “We we h-had more t-t-time together-together…” 

Caroline crossed her arms “And you discovered I am your daughter and-” she was cut off. 

“I never wanted you!” the Master snapped, “Why do you th-think that!?” he ran his hand down his face. 

“Because Fathers are supposed to love their daughters!” she looked at the ground, the Master’s crippled leg looked out of place, he shifted leaning heavier against his cane. 

“Except le-le-legally, I a-a-am not-t-t your guard-gaurdian and you are  not not not my legal daughter,” he wobbled slightly, “Y-you a-are a-an or-or-orph-ph-phan!” the Master fell forward, but caught himself shakily with his cane, then limped to a chair, falling into it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with an exhausted expression, “I-i-it’s no-no-not like I-I-I ca-can– it’s it it-s just…bet-better…” he slumped down. 

“How is it better?!” she exclaimed “You left me to suffer at an orphanage, then go to work at Simon's age!” 

The Master muttered something along the lines of ‘Well Simon’s working just fine,’ but it was nearly incoherent.

There was a long deafening silence, the Master  seemed to be weighing his words, fidgeting with his goggles in his hands. 

Finally Master Graves spoke “D-d-do y-you th-th-think I c-c-can ta-take c-care of a ch-child?” he muttered, “You-you pro-probably would-would-wouldn’t be able t-t-to talk…”  

Caroline’s face softened, “...Ok…it’s just hard for me I guess…” she muttered “I’m going to bed…” 

With that she trudged out of the room, leaving the Master in her wake. He sighed feeling a familiar ache settle in his chest, he closed his eyes slightly, taking a deep breath, still staring at the flickering light of the fire.  

The next morning, Lily crept down stairs trying to remain quiet. She passed the lounge and saw a figure laying in a chair, legs propped up on the side table. She stuck her head in, and realized it was Master Graves, asleep, she crept closer, her arm slightly outstretched. Did this man ever sleep? She reached out nudging the Master. 

He jerked awake violently, his fists clenching “Wha-?!” 

Lily startled backward. “You were asleep, and I, well…” She looked at the ground. “I don’t know…”  Lily noticed the Master’s cane lying on the floor, then noticed how he was groping around for something. 

She leaned down picking up the cane and handing it to him, he grabbed it, then set it down on his lap, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his coat which had fallen off his shoulder in his sleep. She watched as he slowly got up, gripping his cane and the armrest for support.  Lily stared for a moment before heading to the kitchen. 

She started the fire in the stove, then put on the tea kettle. She decided she would make pancakes that day, it was one of the few recipes her mother had taught her before– No she didn’t want to think about that. As she cooked, the floor above her began to creak signaling the rest of the house was awakening. 

Iona was one of the first to come down, followed by Caroline and finally Simon. Iona got to work on setting the table. As Lily was bringing the tea to the table, she noticed the Master limping back up the stairs, his head down. She sighed, of course he wasn’t going to eat. 

They ate in silence, which was unusual for them, normally Simon would start some sort of conversation, but he was oddly quiet. 

Finally the small boy coughed before rasping, “I coughed blood last night.”  

Everybody froze, Iona’s face turned to one of horror, Caroline spit out her tea, Lily’s mind raced to catch up with this news. Coughing up blood?  She knew Simon was sick, but not this sick. 

Finally Iona broke the horrified silence, “Simon have you been taking your medicine?” 

Simon nodded vigorously, for it hurt him to speak, then coughed, blood splattering onto his plate. Iona got out of her chair and picked him up. 

“Maybe the Master can take you to the doctor, we need to do something!” she said, cradling him. 

Simon pushed himself out of her arms. 

“I’m fine! I’ve always had this cough!” he snapped, crossing his arms. 

Lily was already running up the stairs, banging on the study door, “Master! Master! Please Master! Open up! I need to tell you something!” she exclaimed. 

There was a thudding from within before the door creaked open, the Master was hunched over looking at her. 

“Wh-wha-what d-d-do you w-w-w-want,” he grumbled, his arm shaking from putting his full weight on it. 

“Simon has been coughing up blood! You need to take him to the doctor!” Lily said,  grabbing the Master’s hand, forgetting about his leg, and attempting to drag him down the stairs. 

The Master toppled forward, landing awkwardly on his leg, “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, pulling himself up with his cane, “Wh-wh-why’d yo-you do th-that!?” 

Lily tensed, “I-I didn’t mean to! I-I forgot!” she stuttered, stepping back. 

The Master sighed, “It-it-it’s fine…” he mumbled, “What do you want me to do? Take him to the doctor?” 

“Yes!” 

“Oh…” 

Soon enough, the Master, Iona, and Simon were on their way to the doctor, Simon was wrapped in a blanket in Iona’s arms, as his condition had worsened. The Master was dragging his leg behind him, a tired expression on his face. Iona let out a long breath, despite the fact that she was carrying a 6 year old boy in her arms, she was still faster than the Master. 

When they finally reached the doctors office, it was high noon, and the Master looked on the verge of collapse. As they entered the waiting room, his leg finally gave out and he fell into a chair, groaning slightly. 

Iona ran up to the desk “Can you help my uh…brother…” she held Simon up higher, “He’s always had a bad cough but now it’s getting worse!” 

“And why is Mr. Graves here with you…?” the receptionist asked, looking at the exhausted man. 

“Uh he’s our…Master…” Iona hesitated slightly looking back at the slumped figure, “Can you help my brother?” she repeated, growing frustrated. 

“Right…and how old is he?” 

“Six! Now help him!” Iona finally snapped. 

The  receptionist sighed, going into a backroom, a doctor came out and looked at Iona and Simon, then the Master. 

“Ok come on in, I’ll see what I can do for him,” the doctor said, ushering them in through the doors. 

The Master looked around in a slightly dazed state, his leg hurt like hell, and he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to stand again. looked over at the receptionist who was staring at him with a tired expression, he looked away. The waiting room was silent apart from the occasional mumble from the Master. He stared at the wall, his eyes glazed over slightly. He shifted, fidgeting with his gloves. He had been wearing those gloves for years, after he had bitten his nails until they bled. After that his father had forced him to wear them. He rarely took them off, only to wash his hands.
“Now you won’t ever do that again,” His father had said sternly, “Why can’t you be more like your brother? He never causes any problems.” 

He had looked down in shame, his face and eyes burning, as his brother laughed at him. 

The Master didn’t know how long he was sitting in the waiting room, but eventually Simon and Iona came out, Simon still looked sick, but he was on his feet; he could still work.

“He needs to take these,” Iona said, holding up a bag, “I can handle it…” 

Master Graves just nodded struggling to stand, he wobbled slightly, before limping towards the door. Iona glanced at him, her eyes widening in concern. 

“Do you want to wait some more time before we leave?” she asked uncertainty. 

“N-no…I’ll be f-fine…” he mumbled. 

The walk back was longer than the walk there, as the Master was limping more than ever and Simon was being slower than usual. Once they arrived back at the manor, the Master barely made it to the couch in the lounge before his leg gave out again. He groaned slightly, pulling himself up onto the couch. 

“S-ssss-s-s-th-someone pleas-s-se get-t me ssssome tea…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily. 

Caroline rushed off to the kitchen, Iona nudged the Master, he twitched, mumbling something. 

“Are you feeling well…?” she asked, running her hands through her hair. 

“Mmmm…n-n-no….” he said, barely audible, “Wh-wh-why’d I have t-t-to d-do th-th-that? You’re old-d enough t-t-too–” he sighed, adjusting his posture, “t-t-too too old enough t-t-too-” he stopped talking, unable to get the words out. 

Iona nodded, Caroline came back carrying a tea tray, she set it down carefully on the side table, the Master shakily poured himself a cup. He looked up at the children, scowling. 

“St-st-stop watching m-me drink like I’m s-s-some animal! Go b-busy your your your yourself!” he snapped, waving his hand dismissively.

The children all left, going to the kitchen, Simon dragged himself into a chair, coughing. Caroline looked at Iona, then towards the door. 

“He isn’t normally like this right?” Caroline asks “the Master…he isn’t normally that tired after a walk to town, is he?” 

Iona shook her head “No not really” she ran her hands through the ends of her hair, “he’s probably still upset about Derby leaving.”

Meanwhile in the lounge the Master had fallen into an uneasy sleep. He hated sleeping, it always brought back terrible memories. Now was no exception. 

He was back in the bedroom of his London house, blood on his hands, his wife’s lifeless body lying on the bed, he was frozen, his mind screaming at him to move, to run, to get out. He stared at the knife lying on the bed. It felt so good but also terrible, he shoved on his shirt and coat, washed off the blood in the water pitcher, and ran; his breath fast, everything felt like it was too much, like he was getting crushed–

And then he woke up. 

The Master gasped, looked around, Simon was sitting on the chaise lounge across from him, the boy looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Did you have a nightmare, Sir?” Simon sniffed, staring at him. 

The Master stared, then got up, limping out of the room, Caroline watched him as he headed up to his study. 

“I don’t expect him to come down for dinner,” she said to herself, then paused, how could it be that this broken, stuttering, shell of a man, could be her father? When she was quite the opposite. 

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, Simon coughed, looking at the stares, his eyes wide. 

“Do you think he even cares about us?” he rasped, “Or are we just servants to him?” 

Caroline looked down “I don’t know…he obviously cares…but he might not have a bond with us…he’s just being humane…” 

“Do you think he’s afraid of loving someone?” Simon sniffed, “But he loved Derby…” 

Just then the dinner bell rang and the two headed to the dining room. 

Meanwhile in London at the large WIllis Inc. headquarters, Derby walked down the long windowless  hallway, lit up by dim lanterns only. He adjusted his cravat, swallowing nervously. As he approached the two doors at the end, he paused, then knocked. 

“Come in,” Raymond’s voice rang out, bored. 

Derby pushed open the door, Raymond and Charles sat at the long wooden desk, Charles had his feet propped up against it. 

Derby looked at the two, waiting for one of them to speak, Charles brought his feet down, Raymond adjusted his tie. 

“Uh…I completed the mission…” Derby finally said, “Henry Graves is dead.” 

Raymond smiled coldly, “Took him long enough, that man was weak from the day he was born,” he chuckled. 

Charles nodded “Remember in school, he would always–” 

Raymond cut him off “Yeah yeah whatever,” he stood up, shaking Derby’s hand “You did good Knight.” 

Derby smiled, then adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, “So…um…when will I be paid?” 

Charles opened his desk drawer “Right now!” he said, handing Derby a check. 

Derby took it, shaking Charles’ hand, “Alright, thank you…I wanted to tell you that I’ll be leaving the company next week, I found somewhere ehh better to work,” he smiled professionally, “It was an…honor working for you…” 

Raymond’s expression darkened, he sat down again, folding his hands, “Oddly suspicious that the second you finish a mission, with a target whom you said was in love with you,” he sighed, his voice a dangerous calm. 

“Well he’s dead! Why would he even be in my thoughts?” Derby exclaimed, “I just didn’t want to go back to sitting in an office day in and day out!” 

Raymond sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Perhaps…fine, you are dismissed, you did good work, Knight…” 

Derby nodded and headed back out through the double doors, and down the long hallway. 

Meanwhile at the Manor, Caroline was getting ready for bed, she was passing the third floor when she noticed a red glow coming from underneath the Master’s study’s door. She didn’t pay much attention to it, this had happened before, until there was a thud followed by a series of bangs, she sighed, did she really want to deal with that right now? No, not really. 

She went to bed, ignoring the sounds coming from the study. No wonder Simon couldn’t sleep. It took her hours before she could sleep. 

But that sleep wouldn’t last long. 

When she woke up, smoke was filling the room, she coughed, trying to regain her bearings, Iona was shaking her awake. 

“Caroline! Caroline! Wake up! There’s a fire!” she coughed, pulling Caroline out of bed. 

“Where’s Lily and Simon?” Caroline asked as they hurried down the stairs, she stumbled, “What about Master Graves?” 

Iona didn’t answer until they were on the bottom floor, “They already got outside, I think the fire started in the study so I don’t know where the Master is,” she dragged her out the door and stumbled onto the ground. 

Caroline didn’t notice the burning in her lungs until then, the adrenaline rush had numbed her, but now she realized how much smoke she inhaled. She vomited onto the ground gagging and coughing. She looked at Simon who was wheezing clutching his chest. 

Iona rushed over to him, “Simon? Simon, can you breathe?” she asked frantically, rolling him onto his back. 

Simon wheezed, coughing with every fast inhale and exhale, he shook his head, grabbing his neck. His breath was dangerously quick, he whimpered, Iona was frozen, she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to save him. 

Lily ran over “Simon! No, you can’t die! You’ll bounce back you always–” she cut off, words lost in her throat. 

Iona finally unfroze and propped him up on her lap, rubbing his back, “Simon please…try to breathe please…” 

Simon shook his head, clawing at his chest, gasping for air. In, out, in, out, in, out, in– he couldn’t. It hurt, everything hurt, his eyes welled up with tears as he struggled, a lump forming in his throat and making it harder to breathe. 

He gasped again, tears streaming down his face, he thrashed, his panicked mind trying to get rid of the pain. Iona stroked his hair with one hand and his back with the other. 

It seemed like that for hours, Simon struggling and spasming, gasping for air, before he went limp, his face pale with a blue tint. Lily was frozen in shock, tears streaming down her face, she collapsed, sobbing, Caroline hugged her tightly, Iona looked down hopelessly at the curled up body in her arms. 

The roaring of the fire was drowned out by their grief. Everything slowed down. 

Then suddenly there was a loud crash as the large window of the Master’s study broke. Apart from the glass shards falling everywhere, the children noticed a very human looking form fall out of the window, landing on the ground with a crack. 

Caroline got up to inspect the form, and quickly realized it was a very burnt, very hurt Master Graves. His sleeve was torn, and his skin burnt, his face was bleeding. He groaned, opening his eyes, coughing and struggling to get up. 

“I-sss is every-everyone f-f-fine?” he stuttered, looking around, he noticed Simon’s limp body, and stumbled towards him, “Is is is he al-alright?” 

“He…he couldn’t breathe and…and…” Iona trailed off, looking at the ground. 

The Master stared, his vision hazy, “died?” he said, his eyes glowing “C-can I- eh- help him?”  

He picked up the small boy out of Iona’s arms, taking off what was left of his glove, and pressing his hand to the small boy’s heart. Then he didn’t move, just staring. 

“Um…Master I’m pretty sure…he’s kind of dead…” she said uncertainly. 

He didn’t move, suddenly there was a bright flash of red light. Then Simon jerked, gasping, then went limp again. The Master didn’t move for a moment, then handed Simon over to Iona. 

“He’ll live…I think…” he whispered, looking down. His eyes were drooping, and his head hurt like heck, and his leg. His leg might as well be double crippled, he landed on it weird when he fell and–

Suddenly he collapsed onto the ground; unconscious. Caroline stared at the burns on the Master, he had been in his study when it started, trapped, no wonder he was so burned.

Simon was regaining consciousness, his breathing stable again, he looked at the Master, blinked, then said bluntly, “is he dead?” 

Lily rushed over to him and hugged Simon tightly, “I thought you were gone! But then the Master saved you and-” she cut off, hugging him tighter. 

Iona was inspecting the Master, who had partially regained consciousness, eyes half open. His fingers twitched, and he reached his hand up to the burn on his face. He winced, then went limp again.

“We need to get the doctor here…” Iona said, concerned, looking at the other three. 

Suddenly there a voice rang out and a man appeared through the trees, “Are you kid’s safe? I saw smoke and-” he noticed the Master’s limp body, “is he well?” 

“Take a lucky guess,” Simon said, crossing his arms. 

The man paused, then said “the fire men should be here soon…” he paused, then crouched down, inspecting the Master, “er…hang in there…” 

Once the firemen got there the fire was mostly out, due to the manor made mainly out of stone, and the Master was rushed to the doctors. 

Four days later, the children went to visit, apart from the bandages on his arms, face, and leg, he seemed in good health well…the health he was in before the fire, which wasn’t too good. 

He looked at them silently the whole time, clearly registering their words but not responding. He just nodded, his eyes flickering from one child to the next; his fingers twitching. 

Meanwhile at Graves Manor, people worked to repair the damage caused by the fire. Months passed, and the Master was discharged from the hospital, and moved back into the Manor. 

About a week after his return, Iona knocked on his study door. 

“Master Graves? You haven’t eaten in a while…are you alright?” she tapped on the door,  carrying a meal tray in one hand. 

There was rustling from within, and the door creaked open, the Master poked his head out, leaning heavily on his cane. She noticed there were more streaks of grey in his hair and he looked exhausted. He huffed, looking at her expectantly. 

“I uh…came with a meal…please eat it…you haven’t eaten much and…it shows…” she said cautiously. 

It did show, as the Master had lost a considerable amount of weight since the fire, his clothes hung more loosely around his frame, and she could see the bones in his face. He was slightly more hunched over, as if waiting for someone or something to attack. He looked at the meal, then took it, retreating back into his study. 

Simon walked up behind her coughing “Is he alive?” 

Iona sighed “He’s all skin and bone but he’s alive,” she smiled softly “he still won’t talk…” 

Just then the doorbell rang out, shaking the portraits on the wall, Iona ran down the stairs, grabbing her dress so she wouldn’t trip. As she reached the first floor landing she saw that Caroline had already opened the door and was staring. Iona ran over and stopped next to Caroline, then saw what she was looking at. 

Derby Knight was standing there, confident and polished as ever, smiling, “I’m back? Why do you all look so grim?” 

“Well long story short, there was a fire, Simon died but the Master revived him, and now the Master won’t talk,” Iona looked bored, “Why are you back after all this time?” 

“Well…I just didn’t like working for my old job…and I rather enjoyed working with you kids, um…may I see Master Graves?” Derby fidgeted with his cravat, “if he lets me in…” 

Iona sighed “You can try he hasn’t been eating well, or leaving his study…” 

Derby smiled sadly, “I can always try,” with that he walked past them and up the spiral staircase. 

When he reached the door to the Master’s study, he paused before knocking, there was a grunt from inside followed by shuffling, and then the door creaked open. The Master appeared, looking at the ground, then looking up, blinking, processing. Then he reached out to grab Derby’s arm as if testing if he was real. Derby stood there watching him, as the Master let go of him, stepping back. 

“Hey…um…can I work here again?” Derby asked bluntly, the Master just looked at him, shrugging. Derby sighed “I understand if you don’t want me working for you but I uh…I quit my job at Willis Inc. so I could come back to work for you and…” he looked at the smaller man, “and help you…” 

The Master opened his mouth, as if going to talk, then closed it, licking his lips and clearing his throat, then opened his mouth again, “I…um…mm..” he twitched, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. 

“Can you talk?” Derby prompted, the Master shook his head no, Derby bit his lip, “so…do you want to write something down,” he suggested. 

Master Graves nodded, limping back into his study, and sitting down in his chair, grabbing a blank piece of parchment and scribbling down a few words before handing it to Derby. 

They’re going to realize I’m not dead and come for me again. 

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the past three months?” Derby handed him the paper back, “I held a funeral with a closed casket of course, and had the empty casket buried in the graveyard in town, Raymond doesn’t like talking to the ‘common peasants’ so he won’t question the townsfolk, as long as they don’t see you outside you are…pretty much safe…” 

The Master stared, blinking, then scribbled something else down, ‘Did my family come to my ‘funeral’’. 

Derby sighed “Your brother did,” he commented, “He said your parents didn’t want to come, and his speech wasn’t the kindest…” 

The Master looked irritated and returned to his desk, grunting in annoyance, looking out the window. When it was repaired, the glassmaker put in a different design, which he only realized after he moved back into his office, and the glassmaker couldn’t understand what he was trying to do. Now he was stuck with some red and orange design, it looked like fire. He hated fire now. 

Derby looked at the window, then at the Master, “New window?” he said awkwardly, fiddling with his thumbs. 

The Master huffed, shrugged, and adjusted his goggles. Derby nodded, then sat down in a chair beside the desk, studying the Master’s tense expression. The room went silent, save for the Master’s unsteady breathing. 

The Master slid a piece of paper over to Derby, ‘You’re hired’. 

Derby smiled, shaking the Master’s hand and causing the older man to tense, “Well, that’s wonderful, shall I go help the children?” 

“Hm..mmhmm,” the Master nodded slowly, turning back to his work. 

Derby stood up heading back downstairs, where the children were helping Lily in the kitchen. He watched for a moment, before Simon ran up to him, beaming. 

“Oh gee! Mr. Knight you’re back! Did the Master hire you again?” Simon blurted, tugging on Derby’s waistcoat. 

Derby chuckled, “Yes he did, I heard you died, are you quite alright?” 

Simon coughed, “Oh yes, I’m fine now but there was a fire! And I couldn’t breathe and then there was so much pain and- and-” he trailed off, biting his lip, then he perked up again, “and then the Master saved me!” 

Derby nodded slowly, “Well that’s good, was anyone else harmed in the fire?” 

Simon blinked, “Yes! Did you see the scar on the Master’s face, not the other ones, but the big scar on the side of his face! The fire was in his study you see and his arm was burnt and–” he sneezed loudly, “and he had to go to the hospital!” 

Lily marched over grabbing Simon’s sleeve, “What have I told you about covering your mouth!?” she pushed him out, “you can’t contaminate the food!” 

Derby followed him out, “So the Master went to the hospital?” 

Simon nodded “Yes he was in there for like a month! And when he got out he went straight to his study, and he hasn’t come out for a while…” 

Derby sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that's great…” he said sarcastically, “I’ll try to talk to him.” 

“Except he won’t talk!” Simon blurted, “he only grunts and stuff now, and that's rare!” 

“Wonderful…” Derby grunted, “I’ll try to make progress…” 

The next few days were spent with Derby trying to get the Master to talk, but having no effect. One day he sat on the couch in the Master’s study, next to the Master who was reading a book silently, his hands shaking. Derby looked at him, thinking. 

“What are you reading?” He asked the Master uncertainly. 

The Master blinked, then held up the book so Derby could read the title. Jane Eyre.

“Huh…” Derby nodded politely, “do you want to read it out loud?” 

The Master shook his head, then looked back down at the book. Derby groaned inwardly, getting the Master to talk was harder than expected. 

Derby sighed, the Master glanced over, twitching, Derby noticed his eyes were dropping, he looked exhausted, probably about to fall asleep. Derby checked his watch, and suddenly felt a weight against his shoulder. He looked over to see the Master’s now asleep form leaning against him. His face was still in that permanent scowl of his, he was still tense. Derby didn’t move, if he did, the Master would probably snap awake and not go back to sleep. 

Meanwhile downstairs, Lily was cleaning up in the  kitchen. She opened up the cupboard and put in the cookbook she had used that day. There were two shelves of cookbooks, the bottom had all sorts of different cookbooks from different countries. She had never touched the top shelf, mainly because she couldn’t reach it. But also because a few of the books didn’t seem to be cookbooks rather than books from the library the Master had left in there. Those books didn’t seem normal, not in the least, their pages were tattered and dog-eared, and there were papers sticking out of them, Lily just didn’t want to deal with it. 

She sighed, brushing off her hands on her apron and glancing over the kitchen, making sure everything was neat and orderly. It had been harder to cook good food since Derby had returned, or when he first came to the Manor. The children never ate much, none of them were used to having food, so Lily had become used to making smaller portions. And the Master rarely ate as well. However when Derby had arrived, suddenly she had to cook for three growing children plus one full grown man who, judging by his mannerisms, grew up with lots of food. 

It. Was. Exhausting. 

She left the kitchen and entered the lounge, Simon was waiting with a book. 

“Will you read to me, Lily?” he sniffed, smiling and holding up a children's book. 

Lily smiled and nodded, sitting down and taking the book, and began to read. 

Meanwhile Caroline and Iona were up in the attic. They had never been up there before, but since they had nothing to do the girls decided to go exploring. The attic was filled with boxes, cobwebs and dust. There was one big window at the front that the last bits of daylight shone through. It was barely visible there, and Iona had insisted on not bringing a candle for it was a fire hazard. 

The floorboard creaked as Caroline knelt down looking at a box that seemed to be stuffed to the brim “Elli’s Things” it was labeled. 

“Iona, I think I found something about the Master’s former wife,” Caroline said softly, opening the box. Inside, there were mostly dresses. Caroline went to the next box, this one however had photos, and paintings. 

She pulled out a painting, the Master stood by his wife, who was clearly pregnant, he was shorter than her, and had this hopeless look in his eyes, his wife’s smile looked strained, almost irritated. 

Iona peaked over her shoulder “She doesn’t look happy,” she mumbled. 

“Neither does he,” Caroline replied, digging through more papers.  

She pulled out an old letter, looked at it, made a disgusted face and shoved it back in the box. She then pulled out an old official looking document from the box. 

Certificate of Death.

Eli Frances Graves

On the day of January 7th in the year 1862.

And there are the bottom in very very shaky handwriting. 

Signed, Henry Graves.

Caroline stared in shock, frozen, finally she managed, “Iona…I think I just found the Master’s ex wife’s death certificate…” 

Iona took it out of her hands and studied it for a while, finally setting it down “Yep, that looks about right…” 

“I once found a newspaper, she was apparently stabbed to death…” Caroline whispered, “They never found who did it…” 

“I have a hunch,” Iona commented before continuing to rummage through the boxes. 

She sighed, standing up, there were a lot of boxes. A lot of things the Master wanted to forget about. 

Meanwhile at WIllis Inc. headquarters,  Raymond and Charles were sitting in their office, talking. 

“Y’know Derby seemed kinda flustered when he told us he killed Henry Graves,” Charles said to his twin, who was lost in thought. 

Raymond’s eyes snapped back into focus; Charles wasn’t the brightest but he did notice things others didn’t, which was the only reason Raymond kept him around. 

“How so?” Raymond inquired, folding his hands and leaning back in his chair. 

“He kept adjusting his cravat and he wouldn’t make eye contact with us,” Charles said coolly, tapping his foot. 

“Maybe we should send out a messenger as a decoy? I believe John Clarke’s messenger boy is fit, and Clarke does owe us a favor…” Raymond considered this before continuing, “We could send the messenger in with a message for Graves and if he accepts the message we will know if he is still alive,” 

“What if one of the kids replies for him?” Charles blinked.

“Why would the children even be there? If their master was deceased?” Raymond uttered slowly, dangerously, then snapped “How much of a fool are you! You idiot!” 

Charles flinched at his brother’s outburst, recoiling slightly, “I-I didn’t- I just–” he stammered. 

Raymond glared at him “Stop stammering! You’re sounding like Graves for heaven's sake!” he grabbed the front of his twin’s jacket, pulling him out of his chair, his eyes widened with fear, “Get a grip!” 

Charles, knowing if he said anything he would make it worse, nodded vigorously, putting his hands up. Raymond let him go, Charles fell backwards with a thud. Raymond walked over to the window, looking out, his hands folded behind his back.

“Charles,” Raymond sighed, looking out at the cityscape.

 Charles looked up, “Hm..?” 

“Tell Mrs. Knox to write a letter to Lord John Clarke for his messenger boy.” 

The next morning at the Manor was a sunny one. Derby woke up realizing he had fallen asleep with the Master still leaning against his shoulder. Derby shifted slightly, and the Master snapped awake. 

“Hmmf?” the Master grunted sleepily, sitting up. 

“You realize you slept against me all night,” Derby commented, his eyes flickering towards the smaller man. 

The Master grunted, adjusting his goggles, and standing up shakily, Derby looked at him for a while. 

“Are you fully functional other than your speech?” Derby asked, then realized, “And your leg of course.” 

Master Graves side-eyed him from where he was standing, leaning against his desk. He squinted out the window, then sat down in his chair, spinning to face Derby. He crossed his fingers, which were covered by gloves. Derby stood up and examined himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, and adjusting his waistcoat. 

The Master cleared his throat, “I- err…umm…” he trailed off, shaking his head, mumbling something that sounded something like ‘nevermind’.   

Meanwhile in the garden, Iona sat plucking the weeds from the flower beds. She glanced around at the decrepit garden, I should repair the walkway, she thought to herself, and…everything else in this garden. She had planted a few more flowers over the past months, a few roses, petunias, a couple of lilacs. And now that it was summer, they were in full bloom. 

She picked up her tools and went inside, Derby was in the sitting room, reading a book. He looked tired. 

“Sleep well?” she asked, sitting down across from him. 

Derby sighed “I did, just…stiff, the Master slept against me all night, in the same position, my legs went numb…” he sighed, pinching his nose. 

Iona left to help Lily in the kitchen. The rest of the day passed as usual. And so did the week. But on that Sunday, during dinner… 

The Master was sitting at the table silently, Derby was forcing him to eat some bread, he looked annoyed. 

“I..d-do-don’t–” he sputtered then gave up, sighing frustratedly. 

Suddenly the doorbell rang, shaking the house, the Master jumped, grabbing the table. Iona stood up and walked out of the dining room to the entry hall. 

She opened the door, and the messenger boy who had delivered the invitation. He looked nervous, fumbling with his bag.

“I have a letter for Master Graves, to be delivered personally, uh…is he home?” the boy asked, glancing behind Iona into the dining room. 

Of course he’s home, he's never not home, Iona thought, but instead she smiled and said, “Yeah… he’s eating dinner… come on in, I guess…” Iona was leaning against the doorway again, staring at the boy’s face. 

The boy eyed her suspiciously then walked in, heading into the dining room. Derby was trying to wipe sauce off of the Master’s mouth and the Master was batting him away. 

“Uh… Are you Master Graves?” the messenger boy asked, Master Graves nodded, the boy continued, “My name is Phillip Cross…I am the messenger boy for Lord John Clark…I was instructed to give you this letter, for your eyes only…or something,” he dug in his bag and pulled out a letter, handing it to Graves. 

The Master opened it, glancing at Phillip, reading the papr, his eyes flashed suddenly, and he got up, grabbing his cane. The red haired man limped over to Phillip, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the dining room. 

“Le-le-lea–” he stuttered, his eyes glowing. 

Derby stood up, “Master are you alright?” he ran over to the Master, who was watching as Phillip ran out the door. Derby grabbed the Master’s shoulder, Master Graves jerked, stumbling back. 

“Hey, hey, you alright?” Derby questioned. 

The Master shoke his head mutely, stumbling back to the letter and tearing it up, fidgeting with his gloves. Derby stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.  The Master grabbed his cane again and left the room, going to his study. 

Simon looked at Derby, then at Iona, “Iona why is your face red?” 

Iona blinked, “Uh…no reason!” Iona blurted before grabbing her plate and leaving the room. 

Simon looked at Derby, “Why won’t the Master talk? He only grunts and makes half a sentence before giving up. At least he could talk before the fire!” Simon coughed, scrunching his nose. 

Derby ran a hand threw his hair, “Uh...he just…doesn’t want to talk…” Derby faltered, adjusting his cravat, the truth was, he didn’t know why the Master wouldn’t talk; and Master Graves wouldn’t tell him. 

One by one everyone cleared their place, and began to get ready for bed. Derby went to check on the Master, who was undoubtedly in his study. He twisted the handle on the door; locked, of course it was. 

He thought it best to leave him alone and headed to his room. 

The next morning, the house was quiet, Lily and Derby were the only ones up, making breakfast. 

“Do you wake up this early every morning?” Derby asked Lily, who was cooking an egg on the stove. 

“Yes…it’s my job to handle the meals, sometimes the others help but that’s mainly for lunch and dinner…” Lily replied. 

Derby nodded “That’s a lot of–” 

DONG.

The doorbell rang loudly, a candle nearly fell over. There were footsteps coming from upstairs, and startled yelps. 

DONG. 

Derby rushed to the door, opening before the bell rang again. An elderly couple stood on the doorstep, a man and a woman. The man had an expressionless face, staring coldly at Derby, he had brownish-red hair, wearing a dark red coat, black pants, and a top hat. The woman had grey hair, was wearing a purple dress with a black scarf, clinging to what Derby assumed to be her husband’s arm. 

“Uh…hello may I help you?” Derby asked politely, wringing out his hands. 

The man looked him up and down, blinking, then he muttered, “Who are you?” 

Derby blinked then replied, “Derby Knight, Mr. Master Graves’ assistant,” he stuck his hand out, the man shook it firmly. 

“So Henry still lives here?” the woman asked, looking at Derby. 

“Yes? What do you want? And who are you?” Inquired Derby, adjusting his cravat. 

“Well we are his parents, I am Mr. Edward Graves and this is my wife, Diana Graves…We heard about the fire and thought we ought to visit our son!” the man explained, inviting himself into the house, his wife followed. 

Derby trailed behind, Lily peaked her head out of the kitchen, and saw the couple before going back inside, they went into the sitting room, sitting down on the couch as if they owned the house. 

“I’ll go get him,” Derby muttered, heading up the spiral staircase. 

He knocked on the study’s door before entering. The Master sat in his chair, staring out the window, his cane leaning against the desk. Derby tapped him on the shoulder, and Master Graves jumped, grabbing the armrest. He looked up at Derby and grunted, looking at him expectantly. 

“Your mother and father have arrived…unexpectedly…they wish to see you, would you like to come downstairs with me?” Derby ran a hand through his hair, watching the Master closely. 

The red-haired man shook his head violently, his hands going to his hair, pulling, mumbling incoherently. Derby looked concerned, gently grabbing  the smaller man’s hands and pulled them away from his hair. 

“Do you not want to see your parents?” Derby asked slowly. 

The Master nodded yes, then turned away, mumbling, and hunching over his desk, picking up his pen and continuing his work. 

Suddenly the door creaked open, Derby turned around, the couple was standing at the door, smiling. Derby froze, the Master slowly turned around in his chair, his eyes flickering, then horror flashed across his face. 

His parents stood there, looking at their son, then they burst into chatter. 

“What is the scar on your face are you alright?” 

“Your hair has gotten awfully long hasn’t it, Henry?” 

“Who’s this assistant of yours? I thought you only had children work here!” 

“Why is everything here so dark? Everything's black and red!” 

Then a pause, then his father said:

“Why won’t you talk?” 

The Master shifted uncomfortably, and opened his mouth, then closed it, fidgeting with his hands. 

Derby stepped in front of the Master, “He’s mute and he won’t talk, he got the scar from the fire, he has refused to leave the house, thus not going to the barber, and he hired me nearly a year ago.” 

The pair seemed to be taken aback, they blinked, the Master blushed, biting his lip. 

He opened his mouth and let out a stammered mumble, “m-m-mo-o-th–er…f-f-f–a-a-a–” 

Suddenly, Simon burst in, “Grandma! Grandpa!” 

The Master’s parents turned, “Whatever do you mean?” the woman asked.  

“You look like my mom’s parent’s before my mom–my mom–” Simon broke off into a coughing fit. 

Iona rushed in, taking Simon into the hallway, trying to soothe his coughing. The adults stared at where they had left. 

Edward  turned to his son, who was still frozen in his chair, “So you won’t talk.”  

The Master shook his head, adjusting his goggles. He grabbed a piece of paper, and scribbled down something, then handed it to Derby. 

Derby picked up the paper and examined it, then cleared his throat, “You may stay for one week.” 

The parents exchanged a glance, then nodded, and headed out. 

Caroline met them in the hallway, “I can show you your room, it’s upstairs,” she said, leading them up the spiral staircase.  

She made sure they were comfortable before saying, “Dinner is at 7, call one of us if you need anything,” then she turned and walked away. 

Iona met her in the hallway, “Do you want to go out into the garden with me?” she asked awkwardly. 

Caroline nodded and the two headed outside. 

Dinner was far from calm. 

Derby had dragged the Master down to the dining room again. And now the Master was sitting at the head of the table, staring blankly. 

Once everyone was seated, Diana looked at the Master expectantly, “Well? Aren’t you going to say grace?” 

Derby pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “If you haven’t noticed your son is unable to talk.”  

The Master’s father shifted in his seat, “Has he gone to church lately?” he asked Derby, folding his hands. 

Derby glanced at the Master who had visibly tensed, tapping his finger against the table, then he replied slowly, “He hasn’t really been…leaving the house lately…” 

The parents seemed irritated but did not discuss it further. There was a moment of silence, Derby tried to get the unresponsive Master to pick up his fork and eat something. Simon coughed. 

Diana looked at the small boy, “You’re a sickly one aren’t you?” she puzzled, Iona glanced at Simon who had a mouth full of bread. 

“Yeah! And once there was a fire! And I almost died! But the Master healed me—but I’m still coughing and I don’t know why and I have to take this medication– and–” he was cut off by Iona. 

“Ok…that's enough Simon…It’s not polite to talk with food in your mouth…” she commented, patting Simon on the shoulder.  

The Master looked tense the rest of the dinner, until Derby brought him back up to his study. That night Caroline made sure the couple was comfortable before heading to bed herself. 

The week passed, each day getting more tense, as if building up to something. Derby had forced the Master into coming to each meal, although the Master ate little. When the Master’s parents began to pack up, Master Graves looked less tense than he had all week. Simon, who for whatever reason, had grown rather attached to the pair, and was sad to see them go. 

However at dinner, it got tense again, it was raining harshly outside, and suddenly, there was a knock on the door. 

Derby looked up from his chicken, “I’ll get it,” he muttered before standing up. 

He headed to the door and was met by the sight of Raymond and Charles Willis. Derby blinked, shook his head, then looked again, they were still there. 

“We would like to see Henry Graves,” Raymond said coolly.  

“And don’t try sayin’ he isn’t alive, ‘cause we know he is,” Charles snarled. 

Derby swallowed, then stammered, “We-we-well…he’s not here right–” 

“Oh shut the ‘ell up, we know he’s in ‘ere,” Charles said gruffly, pushing past Derby. 

Raymond followed his twin into the dining room. The Master was sitting uncomfortably in his chair, when he saw the two he got up, grabbing his cane and limping out the second entrance to the dining room, panic flashing through his eyes.  Raymond ran around and jumped in front of him before he could get any further than the door to the lounge. Charles came from behind, and the Master was trapped. 

“Well, well, looks like the freak is still alive,” Charles smirked, crossing his arms. 

“Alive and mute,” Raymond commented, “he hasn’t said a word.” 

Suddenly, Derby ran in between the two, grabbing the Masters sleeve and dragging him towards the stairs, the Master stumbled, then tripped, falling flat on his face, his cane rolling away and stopping next to Raymond's foot. Derby didn’t see the cane, instead hoisted the Master back up and continued to drag him up the stairs. 

“Uh Ray…should we like…do something with these kids? They uh…I don’t know-um…” Charles blubbered uselessly. 

Raymond glared at him, “No, we are only here for Graves and maybe Knight if we feel like it,” he paused, “plus, what are a bunch of kids going to do?” 

Charles hesitated but followed his brother up the stairs. By now Derby and Master Graves had already made it into the study with surprising speed. 

“Should we lock the door? What if they hurt the kids?” Derby asked urgently. 

The Master shook his head, hobbling slowly over to a lever on the wall, and grasping it tightly. His leg looked like it was going to give out, yet he pulled down, red sparks flying from his fingers. Then there was a horrible grinding noise, the room shook, thunder boomed over head. 

Then, the roof opened up.  

Derby gasped, “Was this what you were working on all day? Something that opens up your roof?” 

The Master did not reply, instead shakily grabbing a rope  ladder that had fallen down as the roof opened up. Everything was soaked by now from the rain,  but it was hard to think about at the time. 

The door burst open and Raymond and Charles ran in. 

“We got you now,” Charles sneered, cracking his fists. 

Raymond smirked, also cracking his knuckles, and pulling out a pistol from his jacket pocket. The Master grabbed a hunk of metal nearby and hurled it at Charles’ head with surprising strength. He attempted to climb the rope ladder, only to feel his crippled  get caught at the first rung. The metal hit Charles' head hard, knocking him out. Raymond looked at his brother, then looked at the Master with even more rage than before. Derby had unhooked the Master’s leg by now and was helping him climb the ladder. 

“Charles’ for crying out loud! Wake up you buffoon!” Raymond yelled, kicking Charles who only grunted, “Guess I’ll be doing this on my own,” Raymond sighed. 

“Hurry, Henry, hurry!” Derby urged, as he helped the Master up the ladder, “He’s really mad now–” he was cut off by a series of bangs, from Raymond’s shotgun most likely. 

The Master had made it to the slippery tiled roof by now and was shakily standing, digging into his coat pocket with one hand, he pulled out a pocket knife and opened it, revealing a sharp blade. 

“I’m coming for you Graves!” Raymond snarled, already halfway up the ladder. The Master stumbled backwards.

 Just as Derby pulled himself onto the roof, just about to make it to the Master when– the pistol fired. The blue-haired man winced as the bullet hit his leg, but did not show many other signs that he had been shot. 

Raymond brought himself onto the top of the roof. He looked half mad, his hair was sticking out in different directions, wet, and his eyes were wild with rage, his coat was half off. 

The Master’s leg was starting to give up, probably kept up only from adrenaline, his hand grasped the knife tightly. Derby was standing in between the two men, Raymond was reloading his pistol. 

The Master had little time to think, he needed to act now, or Raymond would shoot again and–. 

“Derby– mmm-move!” The Master gasped as he stumbled forward, Derby tried to move to the side but his leg that was shot gave out, and he fell to the side. The Master still stumbled down towards Raymond,  raising the knife and bringing it down on Raymond’s shoulder. 

Raymond screamed, as the Master stumbled back, pulling the knife out of Raymond’s shoulder, now covered in blood. His eyes were wide, and filled with terror. 

“You bloody little–I swear to god–” Raymond sputtered, grabbing his shoulder, the gun flew from his hand, sliding off the roof. Panic flashed across the man’s face, but it quickly turned to a sinister kind of joy. He looked around at the other two men, Derby limping and slow, and Graves frozen in shock. Surely it would be easy to finish them off. 

Just as he was about to approach Graves, he felt a weight against his side, he slipped on the tile, and clung to the ridge of the roof, looking up. 

“What the–” Raymond stared in disbelief. 

Caroline was standing over him, standing at his face, “Why do you even care so much? He hasn’t left this town for years, and–” she paused, thought for a second then said “in any case, good-bye Raymond Willis.” 

She stepped on his hand, then released him, he slid down the roof and despite his best efforts, off the side of the house. 

Caroline turned around, looking at Derby, who was now standing, hobbling over to the Master. 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Caroline whispered in shock, blinking slowly. 

The Master was shaking intensely, “Wh-what ab-about Ch-ch-cha-charles?”  

“Simon, Iona, and Lily took care of him,” Caroline said smugly. 

Derby considered Lily and Simon’s morals before saying, “Really? And how did they do that?”  

“Simon hit Charles’ head a few more times, and then they almost threw him through the window if it weren’t for Iona, who insisted they lock him in a closet,” Caroline explained, “None of them are hurt.” 

The Master looked at Derby, still shaking. Derby was losing his balance slightly, but still managed to hold up the other mans’ weight. 

“Let’s get you down, shall we?” Derby sighed, guiding the Master towards the latter. 

Once they were all safely down, the Master closed the roof, everyone was in some state of shock. Lily and Simon were hugging each other, Iona was wiping her eyes, Caroline just stood there with a blank expression, and the Master was shaking. The only one who seemed to be holding himself together was Derby. 

“We should try to fetch the doctor…” Derby commented, looking everyone up and down, then at his own leg, “But…it’s good we are still alive…” he glanced at the Master, “it could have ended much worse. 

Simon seemed to be pulling himself together because he suddenly chirped, “They thought I wasn’t gonna do anything– but I thought since the Master saved my life, I have to save him.” 

Iona smiled softly, “You were all very brave…” she whispered, almost inaudible. 

Derby sighed, “Well I suggest we all change, we all seem to be some degree of wet, and uh well I’ll try to fetch the doctor, if not tonight, I’m sure I can hold out until morning.” 

All the children dispersed, leaving the Master alone with Derby. The Master was now leaning heavily against a bookshelf. 

He looked at Derby with wide eyes, adjusting his goggles. 

“I- uh– th-thank you…” he muttered, his cheeks flushing again, “f-for s-saving my li-f-fe…s-several t-t-t-times…” 

“Of course, it is my pleasure,” Derby said softly. 

Suddenly Derby felt the Master grab his shoulders and then–

And then he kissed him.

The End 

Chapter 2

Days had passed, and the trio was still walking through the meadows, though with each step more trees began appearing.

“This is the Great Eastern Glade. I have tread here twice before, and one time I lost someone very important to me. Be wary, bandits can often be found here.” Said Silner, his lip quivering, his eyes beginning to be clouded by tears. He saw himself walking into the forest as a child, three hundred years prior, holding his mother’s hand, and his tears as he walked out of the forest, his mother cradling him in her arms. Silner fell to his knees, his attempts to hold back tears having failed as the sadness of three centuries came crashing down upon him.

“Stay strong, friend. You’ll be safe soon.” Assured Thur.

They walked into the glade, where the branches above formed a thick thatch that blocked out most of the sunlight, the ground was covered with moist leaves and sticks, birds sang their falsetto melodies in the branches. Silner’s rabbit moved from his two shoulders anxiously. Silner was downtrodden the whole time they were in the forest, occasionally beginning to cry. After some time, the group came upon a clearing, where four lumberjacks stood cutting trees with their hefty axes. 

“Ah, hello there, travelers.” Greeted one of the lumberjacks gruffly.

“Hello to you, good sirs.” Nodded Karluk without stopping, obviously hurried.

After Silner, Thur, and Karluk could no longer see the lumberjacks, one of the lumberjacks pulled out a paper from his pocket depicting Silner’s visage. “Yes, this is our target.” he announced to the other lumberjacks as they began to follow down the path where the trio was walking. “That cult will pay us good money for dispatching that elf.” Said one of the lumberjacks.

“Disguising ourselves as lumberjacks surely paid off. We’re probably some of the smartest bandits in this area!” Said another.

“Quiet! We can’t let them hear us!” A bandit shushed.

As the sun reached its zenith, more light and heat penetrated the branches above. The trio began to feel the fatigue that they had amassed walking over the past few days. Tired, they sat down in a small clearing by the side of the path. Thur supplied waterskins to his comrades as they sat on trees in the cool shade. Silner and Thur had dozed off where they sat, and Silner was obviously seeing the person he had lost in his dream, seeing as he was calling out in Elvish, but Karluk remained awake and alert. As Karluk stood there, he heard footsteps on the trail. “Hello!” Said Karluk.

“Silence! They can’t know we’re here!” Someone whispered loudly.

“Who goes there?” Asked Karluk.

“No one!” Responded someone.

“You sound familiar. Are you that lumberjack from before?”

“No!” 

The lumberjacks from earlier emerged from the trail, brandishing their hatchets. “Ah, hello! We have come here to go logging in this clearing!” Said one of the lumberjacks.

“Really?” Responded Karluk skeptically.

“Yes. Now let us begin logging!” 

The lumberjacks surrounded the tree that Silner lay on and began chopping it, which woke him abruptly. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOU NEARLY KILLED ME!” Howled Silner.

“Apologies.” Said a lumberjack.

“I don’t accept, you barbarians.” Replied Silner.

“Very well.” Said a lumberjack as another snuck up behind Silner and raised his axe.

As the lumberjack raised his axe to kill Silner, Karluk stabbed him in the hip with his halberd.

“You just killed my cousin!!” Screamed another lumberjack as he lunged at Karluk with his axe before being tackled by Thur.

The whole scene erupted into a violent fracas with Karluk and Thur fighting lumberjacks and Silner running down the path.

“Get away, you bandits!” Screamed Karluk.

“They’re onto us!” screamed a bandit.

 Thur stole the axe of the lumberjack he had tackled and delivered a decisive blow to his head, while Karluk was blocking the blows of another lumberjack with the metal handle of his halberd. Thur stood up from the body of the lumberjack he had felled and began to aid Karluk fighting the other lumberjacks. One lumberjack landed a blow on Karluk’s shoulder, which caused him to drop his halberd. Thur quickly picked up the halberd and handed Karluk his axe as he fended off the three lumberjacks that remained. They landed light blows on Thur’s chest before he stabbed a lumberjack with his halberd through the chest. The two lumberjacks approached Thur and Karluk, Thur instantly thought to flee, and he and Karluk did just that. 

Farther down the trail, Silner was running for his life when suddenly some thorny vines ensnared his arms. “Who goes there?” Demanded a female voice from the woods.

“Silner Verthris!”

“Hmmmm… Where do you hail!?”

“I don’t know myself!”

“Interesting. I shall free you.”

The vines came down from Silner’s arms as a wizened Halfling druidess emerged from the woods. “Come with me.” She said kindly.

“Very well?” Responded Silner as he followed her into the woods. There, he saw a small village made up of huts made of holly and colorful plants. The druidess led Silner into a large hut. The hut was full of druids, studying lore and chattering. She led Silner to a desk, where a message with an ink wax stamp lay. The druidess told Silner to read it, and what it said shocked him. It was a note written in Elvish, about being lost in the woods for some days, and being found by Druidess Ragnhild. At the bottom, it said in elegant script ‘Mallidea Verthris’.

Silner began crying, he said to the druidess “Mallidea Verthris is my sister. She got lost in these woods three hundred years ago, when we were children.”

“My mother found her and raised her alongside me, and we became druids, studying the untamed magical arts. Mallidea recently left to study the refined magical arts in Pruselia, and she said she would send me a letter, but she never did.”

“Thank you, druidess! I shall go to Pruselia and find her! But now I must return to my comrades.” Proclaimed Silner as he went on his way back to the trail.

Thur and Karluk were running from the two bandits when Thur ran into a tree, causing him to stop running. Karluk picked up the halberd as Thur got up and stabbed a bandit through the thigh, which made him collapse. Thur picked up the axe of the wounded bandit and hacked off the arm of the other before resuming running. Much to Karluk’s surprise, the one-armed bandit continued to chase him down the path. The bandit put his fingers up to his mouth and exhaled, making a loud, shrill whistle. There was rustling from the trees beside the path, and soon about fifteen bandits emerged, wielding various weapons and screaming their war-cry.

Just as the bandits emerged from the woods, Silner came along, holding Mallidea’s note. He went to talk to Karluk and Thur before realizing that there was a horde of bandits behind them. He screamed and fled just as he did before, but not before throwing a rock at the head of the one-armed bandit, who was then knocked out. Thur picked up a hefty stone and lobbed it at a bandit, who grunted as he descended to the ground, propelled by the stone. A bandit threw a javelin at Karluk, which penetrated his shin and embedded itself in the ground. Karluk howled in agony as he fell to the ground. 

“Keep running!” He commanded Thur.

“No. I won’t leave you here.” Responded Thur as he pulled the javelin out of Karluk’s shin and began to fend off the bandits. He managed to kill one, but the blade of the javelin broke. Thur bludgeoned some bandits before he was surrounded.

“I won’t kill you,” Said a muscular bandit who stepped forward “Unless you don’t tell me where the Elf went.”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Are you sure?” The bandit said as he hit Thur in the face with the pommel of his sword.

“Yes.”

“Very well.”

As the bandit raised his sword, a thorny vine wrapped around it. The druidess from the woods stood before a great oak tree, with about twenty druids at her side. “Let them live, or face the wrath of the woods.” She commanded.

“We shall face the wrath then.” Responded the leader of the bandits.

Animals of all sorts arrived. Birds, bears, wolves, deer, rodents, and even Silner’s rabbit, charged the bandits but left Karluk and Thur intact, and vines, trees, and plants surged forth. After the attack, the three remaining bandits ran down the trail, screaming.

“Thank you, kind druidess.” Said Thur.

“You are welcome. Now, let us heal the poor man’s leg.”

The druids surrounded Karluk, with serums, salves, bandages and staves. They rubbed liquid on his wound, cast spells upon it, and wrapped it in bandages. Karluk was amazed at the fact he could stand and walk on his leg comfortably. 

“Many thanks,” Said Karluk as he cordially bowed.

“You are welcome.”

“Now let us go. We should find Silner.” Said Karluk

“I am teaching him to fight when we find him.” Said Thur.

Karluk and Thur said goodbye to the druids and continued on the trail. An hour passed, and they found Silner cowering behind a large rock. “Wh-who goes there?”

“Calm yourself. It is us.” Assured Karluk.

“Phew. Now let’s go. The sun is going to set in a few hours.”

“Yes.”

The trio continued down the trail.

“My friends, I know where we must go. To Pruselia, the Great City. I was told my long-lost sister is there.” Said Silner.

“Very well, to Pruselia!” Said Karluk.

“We must go north for about twelve days to arrive in Pruselia, across the Beige Fields.” Said Thur.

After some time, the sun had set. Silner offered that they make camp once more to sleep, and Thur and Karluk concurred. They made tents out of leaves and slept through the night, set on the fact that in the morning they would begin heading toward Pruselia.

            Chapter 3

When Karluk, Silner, and Thur woke, it was around 7:00 AM. They had slept turbulently, and there were signs on the ground of where they had rolled over. The trio, without saying a word, dressed themselves and continued on their way to Pruselia. The forest continued seemingly endlessly, animals making their various noises. The leaves crackled when they were stepped on, a sound which satisfied Karluk, even if he never showed it. Their journey was relatively uneventful, until Silner found a rusted sword on the ground. “Interesting. I will use it to defend myself.”

“But you don’t know how to fight.” Said Thur.

“I’ll learn.”

“Very well. I shall teach you soon.”

Silner celebrated and stashed the sword in his bag as he continued down the path.

After a few minutes, a small stream was visible beside the trail. Thirsty, Karluk drank from the stream and then continued to walk. Every step, the stream grew wider until it was a full-fledged river. “This is the Lowean River. It supposedly leads to the center of Pruselia.”

“How are we supposed to go down it? There’s no boat in the vicinity.” Thur asked Silner.

“We can walk beside it.”

“Very well.”

As the three walked, the river flowed gracefully through the woods, which degenerated into wetland. Frogs could be heard croaking, herons waded through the stagnant water, occasionally leaning down to seize their batrachian prey from the depths, albeit shallow depths, with their pointed beaks. The moist ground was covered in mushrooms and silt, which combined into a black-brown ooze that squelched with every step. The water was the source of the smell of molds, mushrooms, and algae that was omnipresent in the marsh. Small mounds of dirt rose from the water, bearing saplings upon them.

A small village was in the marsh, with houses made of bricks with tile roofs. In the square, a familiar figure was pulling a cart. It was Suler Krin, the merchant who had gambled with Silner at the game when he had bet his soul to Malvagion.

“Ah, it’s you! Silner Verthris! Thur Bellin! How do you fare? And who is your companion?”

“Since I bet my soul, I have been hunted by a demon cult,”

“Rum luck, my friend.”

“Yes.”

“And where are you and your comrades headed?”

“Pruselia. To find my sister.”

“What fortune! I happen to be headed to Pruselia myself! Allow me to travel with you, I shall be most useful!”

“Very well. We depart from this village at dawn.”

Silner, Thur, Karluk, and Suler headed towards the inn, the Partridge in the Gables. Upon their entrance, they were greeted by a jaded innkeeper, who handed them a key to a room and showed them a table for dinner. Suler, Thur, and Karluk went upstairs to the room, whereas Silner sat at the bar. Beside him sat an Elf wearing the uniform of a Pruselian city guard.

“Don’t trust that merchant. He’s nothing but a charlatan.” Said the Pruselian Guard.

“Nonsense. I know him quite well.” Replied Silner.

“You don’t know him at all. He is not what he seems.”

“Feh. I don’t trust you! I trust Suler Krin! Goodbye!” Seethed Silner as he rose from the bar and headed up the stairs.

Silner entered the room of the inn. It was musty with discolored sheets on the bed, creaky floorboards lacking any sort of polish, and an ugly wallpaper depicting the close-up visage of a bull. He exhaustedly collapsed into the bed and immediately fell into a deep slumber.

Silner awoke with the sunrise, seeing the world outside the empty window frame bathed in an ethereal orange glow. He trudged down to the bar to see his friends gorging on breakfast kippers and bacon. Silner sat down to eat with them.

“Suler. Some deranged city guard told me you are a charlatan.” Stated Silner.

“No! No, of course not. Now, to Pruselia!”

The road continued through the wetland, which remained ever the same. The sunlight tore through the foliage, beaming down heat and light to the marsh. Thur, having lived in a mountain for most his life, had never accustomed fully to the sunlight, which was why he constantly had his hand over his eyes and complained about the heat, until Karluk silenced him.

The four continued down the road until they came upon a fork in the road. A sign stood in the middle, with one arrow pointing west labeled ‘Lowean Plain’ and another arrow pointing east labeled ‘Peak of the Gods’. Silner drew his map and analysed it carefully, the faster route to Pruselia was over the Peak of the Gods, a low mountain with religious significance among the native gnomes of the area. 

“Up the peak we go!” Announced Silner as he and his friends ventured uphill.

Miles away, in the small village where Silner’s adventure began, a line of figures in black and red robes and masks of a lachrymose visage carrying the Standard of the Infernal Hand marched down the road. At the head of the line stood Filena, wearing her cloak over a suit of armor, carrying a longsword on her back.

“Attention, citizens! The man we seek was recently in your township! Anyone who knows about the whereabouts of Silner Verthris is to come forward and divulge immediately, or face the consequences.” She announced to the people.

A reluctant Wilfred Quaintoak inched forth, quivering.

“Silner Verthris stayed in my inn several days ago. I believe he went down the road westwards.” He uttered.

“Interesting. You are free to go, innkeep.”

Quaintoak walked slowly back into the crowd, palpably relieved.

“Any more information on this man?”

Silence.

“I demand more information.”

Silence.

“TELL ME!”

A blacksmith stepped forward and said “A member of the local Blacksmith Guild is killed by who we assume was Silner Verthris, judging by the man running through the streets calling for Silner Verthris.”

“Tell me more about the man.”

“Well, he was blonde, about yea high, with a large nose. He was carrying a fancy halberd.” Explained the smith, raising his hand to Karluk’s height. 

“Strange. We had an operative in this town who was a blacksmith who fell silent about five days ago.”

“That was him!”

“Thank you, smith.”

Filena sat down in the town square to ponder what the blacksmith had told her of the events when Silner was in town. She had only seen one man who looked as the blacksmith had described - Karluk. 

“Impossible. It couldn’t be him. Although he did disappear alongside one of the halberds on the library wall. No.”

She sat there and repeated in a similar manner, considering if Karluk had killed the smith or not. After several hours, she came to a conclusion.

“Yes. It was him, that traitor. I shall find him and Silner Verthris, and then I will spill their blood in the name of Prince Malvagion.”