CHAPTER 31: WARREN’S REQUEST

The chief’s office smelled faintly of parchment and smoke. A single lantern burned on the corner of his desk, its light casting long shadows that seemed to crawl across the walls. Behind the heavy desk sat Chief Warren, his expression clouded with fatigue, his robe still tied loosely at the waist. Though his eyes were heavy with interrupted sleep, his presence was steady, watchful, and demanding.

Edward, Aeris, and Seraphine stood before him until the chief waved them toward the seats opposite his desk. They settled in, the creak of wood loud in the quiet room.

For a moment, the four of them simply sat. Aeris shot Edward a glance—silent encouragement or a command, he wasn’t sure. Either way, the weight of the explanation fell squarely on him.

And so he spoke.

Edward recounted the night’s events, his words steady, skipping over details that did not matter. Instead, he focused on what mattered—the pact mark, the whispered confessions, the number of cultists, and the location of their gatherings.

By the time he finished, the room felt heavier. The chief leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming once against the desk before falling still.

"I see," Warren said at last, his voice deep and cutting through the silence like a blade. "Then the matter is even worse than I feared."

His eyes darkened with thought, then sharpened with decision. "I will write to the capital immediately. We need reinforcement—more than I could possibly spare from here. A lot more."

He looked straight at Edward.

"Edward." Chief Warren began in an even tone.

He straightened instinctively, as though summoned by an officer’s call.

"Continue gathering information. Learn what you can of this... Church. But do not make any moves before we hear back from the capital. This is beyond what my soldiers, or you, can deal with."

Edward nodded. He already knew that much. Ten or more cultists weren’t something he and Aeris could simply cut down like common thugs. Not without help.

"Good." The chief’s gaze drifted from him to Seraphine, who sat with her hands folded tightly on her lap.

"As for your new... friend," Warren said, the weight on the word deliberate, "I will have Halden find her temporary accommodations and keep an eye on her. That should—"

"No!" Seraphine shot to her feet, panic flaring across her face. "You can’t! They’ll find me. They’ll kill me!" She jabbed her finger toward Edward, her voice trembling. "I’m going to stay with him."

Edward blinked. "What?"

"You said you’d keep me safe, didn’t you?" she pressed, taking a quick step closer to him as if claiming ground.

"I said you would be safe," Edward replied, baffled, "not that I would—"

"Edward," the chief’s voice cut across him like a hammer. The weight of command silenced the protest on his tongue.

Warren folded his hands together on the desk, his face set into stern lines. "I’m sorry to burden you with this, but perhaps it is best that you and Aeris keep an eye on her. We cannot fully trust her, not yet. And I cannot spare men to watch over her—I need every soldier patrolling the streets. The town is uneasy enough already."

He paused, his eyes flicking briefly to Aeris. "I believe there is a spare bedroom in your townhouse?"

"There is," Aeris confirmed, her voice calm but clipped.

A slow smile curved across Seraphine’s lips, relief mingling with something more playful. Edward, on the other hand, felt the tension tighten in his shoulders. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this would prove a lot more troublesome than it sounded.

"Very well then." Warren rose to his feet, signaling the end of the meeting. "I must write the letter to the Capital. The sooner they are warned, the sooner we can deal with this whole thing"

He gave a firm nod, his robe swaying with the motion, before striding out of the office with purposeful steps. The door shut heavily behind him.

The three of them lingered in the flickering light of the lantern, silence holding them a moment longer before they too rose and left the building.

The streets of Ashenhold were nearly empty now, cloaked in the eerie stillness that only came deep in the night. A thin fog clung to the cobblestones, blurring the lantern glow from the street posts. Their footsteps echoed faintly as they made their way back through the quarter, none of them speaking.

It wasn’t long before the familiar townhouse loomed ahead, its windows dark save for the faint glow of embers dying in the hearth.

Inside, Aeris moved with efficient precision, showing Seraphine to the spare room with no unnecessary words. But before Seraphine disappeared behind the door, she threw Edward a quick, deliberate wink.

Edward frowned, unsure whether to be annoyed or unsettled. Either way, the gesture left a bitter taste in his mouth.

With a sigh, he lifted his hand and summoned the Shadow Striker. The dark figure rose from the floorboards, blade already in hand.

"Stay here," Edward commanded quietly, "Keep an eye on her."

The summon gave a silent nod, its form melting into the shadows of the spare room. Only then did Edward retreat to his own chamber.

His room felt strangely empty after the day’s chaos.

He paused at the threshold, eyes falling to the shirt draped carelessly over the chair. Torn at the seams, its buttons scattered beyond repair. He touched the fabric, lips tugging into a dry smile.

"I’m going to need more shirts," he muttered. With two of his shirts ruined, he only had one remaining.

Kicking off his boots, he let himself collapse onto the bed. The mattress welcomed him, soft and familiar. The weight of exhaustion pressed down harder than he cared to admit.

His thoughts drifted—toward the mark on Seraphine’s chest, the fear in her voice when she spoke of the cult, the stern command in Warren’s tone, and the quiet strength of Aeris at his side.

Questions swirled, but fatigue swallowed them whole. His eyes slipped shut, and soon, sleep claimed him.