Chapter 9: For Whom the Bell Tolls

  An hour after my conversation with Morbius, I found myself sitting at my desk, staring at the ties in my hands. In my right, I held a jet-black tie. In my left, a dark gray one. It should have been a simple decision, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to choose. My mind was too preoccupied with what lay ahead.

  So deep in thought, I didn’t even notice when Morbius stepped into the room. His piercing red eyes bore into me, but I remained oblivious until his voice shattered my trance.

  “My Lord.”

  I didn’t react.

  “My Lord,” he said again, this time sharper, louder. His voice snapped me back to reality. I blinked, finally registering his presence.

  Morbius pulled out his pocket watch and spoke with his usual efficiency. “It’s time to go, my Lord. I don’t know what has you so distracted, but you need to pull yourself together before the meeting. Given the gravity of the situation, everyone might be in attendance.”

  I glanced at the ties once more before setting the gray one down. “I know, Morbius. That’s exactly what has me so distracted. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the other members of the Fallen.”

  Before I could dwell further, Morbius plucked the black tie from my hand and began tying it for me, his movements precise and practiced. “My Lord Marquette, I think you’re overthinking this. It will be just another meeting.”

  I pulled away, finishing the knot myself. “How can you say that, Morbius? You know what I’ve done. And I’m sure the rest of the Fallen does too.”

  Morbius studied me for a long moment, his crimson gaze softer than usual. There was sympathy in his eyes.

  “My Lord, you are not the first member of the Fallen to harm or eliminate another. Nor will you be the last.”

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  Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them. “Do you hear yourself, Morbius? ‘Not the first, and not the last.’ How am I supposed to live like this? Am I expected to eliminate each of my friends as they become... unfit?” My voice cracked. “As they fall victim to the same torment that took Jacob?”

  Morbius cleared his throat and pulled out a handkerchief, gently wiping my tears away. His touch was uncharacteristically tender, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in his usually stoic expression.

  “My dear Marquette,” he said, his voice almost gentle, “that is not what I meant. And for that, I apologize. You know my... condition has dulled my emotions.”

  He sighed, looking at me with something that might have once been sorrow. “We don’t do this job because we want to. We do it because we have to. We make the impossible possible. We do the things no one else can. And yes, sometimes people get hurt. Sometimes good people are lost. But that is the weight we bear.”

  I turned away, shaking my head. “It’s not right.”

  Morbius reached out and pulled me into an embrace, holding me firmly despite my resistance. “Marquette, I know Jacob was your friend. And I know he was a good man. But you did the right thing. You gave him an honorable death, one he would never have received from anyone else. Do you really think he would have wanted to die at the hands of a stranger? A dishonorable death in the shadows?”

  Deep down, I knew he was right. But that knowledge did little to numb the ache in my chest. Overwhelmed, I let the emotions take over, sobbing into Morbius’s shoulder. He didn’t say a word for the next twenty minutes, even as the meeting drew near. He simply held me, letting me grieve.

  Eventually, my tears ran dry, and Morbius dabbed away the last remnants of them. “My Lord Marquette, we must leave. But before we do, there is something I must give you.”

  He reached into his coat and produced an old letter, its seal unmistakably Jacob’s. “Truth be told, you weren’t supposed to receive this until after the meeting. But I believe you need it now more than ever.”

  I took the letter from him slowly, my hands trembling. As I walked to my desk, Morbius quietly excused himself. “I’ll be waiting outside when you’re ready.”

  Alone, I retrieved the silver, handcrafted letter opener that had been in my family for generations. With delicate care, I broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

  Dear Marquette,

  I hope this letter finds you well. This is your dear friend Jacob.

  These past few months have been some of the hardest of my life. I told the other council members I could no longer continue on the battlefield, but no one listened—no one except you and Morbius. After every deployment, the two of you helped me pick up the pieces. You helped me keep going. And for that, I want to thank you.

  I know Morbius likely dealt the final blow. But if, for some reason, it was you… I want you to know that I’m grateful. I know you would have given me the dignity and honor I deserved. Not in the way that I died, but in the way that I was allowed to choose my death. Dying by a friend’s hand…

  Marquette, this was never personal. It was business. And as Bookkeeper of the Fallen, you must always remember that. Never forget your duty, your role, and your responsibilities.

  There is one last thing I must ask of you. Please, guide my son. Help him become the warrior, the man, and the Fallen member he is destined to be.

  And please—remain the man I always looked up to.

  - Jacob

  I folded the letter carefully, pressing it to my chest as I let out a shaky breath. The pain was still there, but so was something else.

  Resolve.

  Clearing my tears, I straightened my tie and strode toward the door. The meeting awaited. And for Jacob’s sake, I would not falter.