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The knife feels heavy in his hand. Cold hilt. Sharpened steel. It would be easy for him to walk forward and plunge it into his heart or even just swipe it across his neck so he chokes on the very air he breathes. How red his blood would stain Colum’s hands just as much as his voice haunts his soul? Too easy. Too quick. Still, there is faith that Colum will succeed.
After all, who else can come closer to killing the Eighth’s necromancer than his own cavalier?
/
“It is a pleasure to see you both. Thank you for meeting me at this late hour.”
The clock inches past midnight. Father Abram looks bright with eye wrinkles that tighten when Silas and Colum enter his residence. The church elder speaks of kindness and invites them to sit at a lone table in his living quarters. A candle burns at the center and beckons their dancing shadows around the room.
Colum pulls out the chair for Silas to sit and takes his place behind his shoulder. Abram pulls out documents and begins a spiel with fancy jargon. By the end of it, he’s presented eight different papers for the Master Templar to sign. But Silas only subtly nods to Colum. The cavalier moves with poignant steps. Abram squints as Colum pulls a specific page from the stack and slaps it in front of him. He taps on a specific clause. Abram stills like he’s been turned into a statue.
Silas speaks plainly.
“Trying to reallocate the church’s resources in this way leaves a significant amount for you to gain. Theft is a punishable sin, but you already know that. Although it’s minor compared to your other grievances,” he states.
“Are you accusing me of doing worse things?” Abram asks.
Silas suddenly pulls out his own set of documents. Abram pales as he’s confronted with years' worth of crime. Theft, blackmail, assault, et cetera. There are first-person accounts among financial proof, and his image is captured in clear likeness. At the very top lies multiple sources of instigating insurrection against the necromancer. Silas’s lips twitch into a small smile.
“Thank you for your years of service, but we have no need for a demon in our midst. You are hereby relieved of your duties, Father Abram. Permanently.”
Colum swipes the knife at his nape, and Abram’s eyes roll back. His body falls into a heap on the floor. Silas stands up and starts to leave. Colum twists the knife and stabs it into the table with utter disgust and disappointment. The candlelight illuminates the F.A. engraved in the bloody edge. He trails after Silas, and the house is left soulless in the night. Father Abram is no more.
/
“You know, you could have killed me if you wanted. I wouldn’t blame you for being angry at me,” Silas says quietly as he sets aside his personal copy of the tome on the nightstand. Colum eyes him warily.
“I have no reason to be angry at you, Si.”
“Don’t you? Soul siphoning hurts you, and you’ve been forced into this path. I would not hold it against you had you done what Abram sought. My death would be a comfort to many as much as my birth was.”
Silas scoots over on the bed as Colum naturally falls into the vacant space beside him, easing up into the headboard. He closes his eyes as he pulls Silas into his arms.
“That is what I was meant to do, and I’ve had years to prepare for it. It matters not to me,” Colum explains. For a moment, doubt crawls through Silas. When Colum opens his eyes, he finds Silas staring at him. “What’s on your mind?”
Silas seems to shrink as his voice comes out in a whisper. “You never have doubts about your duties to the tome?”
Colum opens his mouth to answer, but to say yes isn’t quite true. Instead, he says, “My loyalty is beyond what the tome nor the Eighth calls of me. I live for you, Si.”
“Others will come and attempt to take my life. They will try to sway you again.”
“And I will choose you every time,” Colum affirms. “My life will be in respect to you just as much as my death will.”
Silas swallows and settles for that answer. He relaxes and hugs him close while Colum pulls the blanket over them. Both of them may be too old for it, but neither cares for it. With such time so easily snatched between them, they’ll savor every second together.
Life doesn’t feel right if Colum weren’t right by Silas’s side.