Chapter 7: The Commander and Chief of the Fallen

  The carriage jolted as it rumbled along the cobbled road, casting shadows on the darkened landscape beyond the windows. I sat in silence, watching the scenery pass by. After the encounter with Moore’s daughter, my mind churned with questions, doubts, and a gnawing sense of unease that lingered even as the city lights faded behind us.

  Finally, I cleared my throat, glancing at Morbius. His piercing red eyes immediately turned to meet mine, sharp and unblinking.

  “Do you have something to ask me, my Lord?” His tone was calm, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes.

  Suppressing my curiosity, I responded as evenly as I could. “Yes, actually. What do you think of Moore’s daughter?”

  Morbius crossed one leg over the other, fixing me with an intense stare. “Don’t tell me you’re taken with her, my Lord Marquette,” he said, a faint, detached smile curving on his lips.

  His words hit me unexpectedly, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. I couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, her strength only adding to her allure. But annoyance quickly replaced my blush as I realized Morbius was enjoying my discomfort.

  “Morbius, you know that’s not what I meant,” I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady. “What I meant to ask is how you think she’ll handle her role as Enforcer.”

  He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his voice taking on a rare note of seriousness. “I think she’ll excel. She didn’t hesitate to consider eliminating her own advisors. Many within the Fallen, even seasoned members, would hesitate with such a task. But she… she was ready to do it without a second thought.”

  I nodded, silently agreeing. His words echoed my own assessment—Moore’s daughter was formidable. In her, I saw both loyalty and a terrifying willingness to act. I wanted to ask Morbius more, but he was already staring back out the window, lost in thought.

  Much to my surprise, he turned back, his expression unreadable. “Are you certain you want to do this again, my Lord? We’ve just crossed onto Lord Jacob’s estate,” he said, his voice tinged with caution. “You know that once the carriage stops and you enter that house, I can do nothing for you.”

  I let out a long breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yes, I’m sure—especially since I’m not here as a member of the Fallen but as a friend.”

  Morbius reached into his jacket, pulling out a small, finely crafted dagger. He held it out to me, his eyes dark with a hint of concern. “Please be careful, my Lord. I’ve heard from Lord Jacob’s servants that today was especially difficult for him.”

  I took the dagger, the weight of it solid in my palm, and slipped it into my coat. Just as I did, the carriage came to a stop. Morbius opened the door, stepping out to help me as I descended, his hand lingering in a moment of silent support before he returned to his place.

  Jacob’s estate stretched before us, the largest among the Fallen, yet the most decayed. Cracked windows stared out like hollow eyes, the wraparound porch sagging with rotting wood, and jagged nails jutted out at odd angles, threatening any who dared step too close. Where other estates held grandeur, this one felt like a memory—faded, abandoned, and filled with a sorrow that hung in the air.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  I made my way cautiously up the creaking steps. As I knocked, the door fell open, groaning on its hinges. Inside, the grand foyer lay in shambles: shards of glass, empty bottles, and discarded armor scattered across the floor. I stepped carefully, stopping at the entrance.

  “Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out, my voice echoing in the emptiness.

  From the shadowed staircase, an elven maid appeared, descending with quiet grace. Her dark blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, her piercing green eyes holding an almost ethereal calm. She moved with elegance despite the broken surroundings, her demeanor both refined and weary.

  “Lord Marquette, what brings you to our humble estate today?” she asked, bowing her head slightly.

  I cleared my throat, straightening myself. “I’m here to see Lord Jacob.”

  A troubled expression crossed her face. “Are you certain, my Lord? Today has been… exceptionally hard for him.”

  I began pacing, a sense of foreboding settling over me. “That’s exactly why I’ve come.”

  With a resigned nod, she gestured for me to follow her. “Very well. Please be mindful of your step, Lord Marquette. The estate has deteriorated further since your last visit.”

  As we ascended the staircase, I couldn’t help but take in the ruin around me. Broken glass littered the carpeted steps, exposed nails gleamed in the dim light, and framed portraits bore holes as if they’d been assaulted in fits of rage. The deeper we went, the thicker the scent of alcohol became, mixing with dust and despair.

  At the end of a long, narrow hallway, the maid stopped before a large door riddled with scratches and dents. She glanced at me, her voice barely a whisper. “Please… be careful.”

  She stepped back, and I hesitated before pushing the door open. The room beyond was a battlefield in itself. Bottles lay shattered across the floor, scraps of armor were strewn everywhere, and the dim light illuminated a figure hunched over a large wooden desk at the far end of the room.

  Taking a steadying breath, I moved forward, stopping a few feet away. “Jacob?” I said softly. “Are you all right?”

  Jacob looked up, his gaze wild and unseeing, his sword flashing as he leapt across the desk, swinging it at me in a frenzy. “You won’t take my life!” he roared, his voice a guttural snarl.

  I ducked, narrowly avoiding the blade, raising my hands defensively. “Jacob! It’s me—Marquette! Calm down!”

  But he was lost in some distant nightmare, his squinted eyes blazing with fury, his once well-kept beard now braided into a warrior’s braid, giving him a fierce, haunted appearance. His swings were erratic, fueled by desperation and something far darker.

  “Jacob, listen to me! You’re not at war—you’re in Lian Yu,” I said, trying to ground him.

  At the mention of Lian Yu, a flicker of recognition returned to his gaze. The wildness faded, and he lowered the sword, breathing heavily. His voice, now calm, was laced with exhaustion. “Marquette… when did you get here?”

  I staggered back, catching my breath. “I’ve been here about twenty minutes.”

  Jacob’s sword clattered to the floor, and he sank into his chair, covering his face with his hands. Tears slipped down his cheeks, silent and unchecked. “Where do we go from here, Marquette? I’m broken… and the Fallen has no use for a broken tool.”

  His words cut into me like a knife. Section 81, Article 1 of the Fallen Guide came to mind: If a member can no longer perform his duties, he or she must be eliminated to make way for the next generation.

  “I’ve fought too many wars to count,” Jacob continued, his voice cracking. “Killed, destroyed, all for Lian Yu and the Fallen. And for what? What do I have left?”

  I couldn’t answer him. Instead, I asked softly, “Was it all worth it, Jacob?”

  He looked at me, his face etched with sorrow. “War is never worth it, Marquette. All it brings is suffering, hatred… a cycle that only deepens. Our ancestors thought they were securing peace with the demons, but instead, they sowed discord that haunts us even now. The king lives in luxury, sheltered from his choices, while we bear the weight of his sins.”

  I felt the dagger in my pocket, the one Morbius had given me, growing heavier with each word. “Do you really want to go away from all of this, Jacob? You know what the Fallen will do.”

  He slammed a hand down, his voice breaking. “And how is this any better? Some nights, I can’t even sleep. I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. Commanding the armies of Lian Yu has hollowed me out.”

  Before I could respond, he stumbled forward, reaching out to me, his body trembling. He wrapped his arms around me, his voice barely a whisper. “Please, Marquette… take it all away.”

  With a pained heart, I clutched the dagger tighter. As he held me, I plunged the blade into his back, feeling it sink deep into his heart. His grip on me loosened, and he whispered one last time, “Thank you… Marquette.”

  I held him as he fell, tears streaming down my face. I had done what he asked—not as the Bookkeeper, but as a friend.

  When his last breath left him, I gently laid him down, pulling the dagger free. Exiting the room, I found the maid waiting, her face stricken as she read the truth in my expression.

  “Lord Jacob’s suffering is over,” I said quietly. “Tell his firstborn to report to the caverns in two days’ time.”

  She nodded, and I made my way back to the carriage, collapsing inside as the door closed behind me. Only then did I allow myself to break, tears pouring down as the carriage drove off into the fading twilight.