Witch Hunter

Chapter Ten: Complications

He was in an uncharacteristically bad mood.

The servants and lower ranked Exorcists gave him a wide berth in the halls, as if afraid that he would lash out in a bout of rage.

Not that he would lose control like that, but they knew him by reputation only, and it was a terrifying reputation indeed.

What angered him was not that his judgement was being questioned, but that he himself had misgivings. Uncertainty was a weakness that he would not accept. He was too stubborn to admit that he could have been wrong, and as a result, strove to rationalise the thought process that had led to his decision.

Much of his decision had hinged on something that had just proven to be wrong. This was what had led to his recent misgivings and the cause of his anger. Regardless of what happened, he did not want to waste that boy. He was valuable.

How he knew this was another mystery given birth to by his gut feeling. But he also knew, without any self-indulgence, that his intuition was rarely wrong. It was one of the reasons Lucent still kept him around.

He strode the length of the wide path, ignorant of the large, gilded doors to his left and the beautiful vista of a lush mountain forest to his right. The pathway ran in a full circle, enclosing the numerous rooms on this level and open to the outdoors like a balcony. He was currently on the sixth level, so high up that he could see a wispy, white enshrouding the forest below, but not quite high enough to reach the clouds that drifted lazily above. This level held the second fewest rooms; almost all of them were either interrogation rooms or personal quarters for the members of the Sixth Circle.

Above each door was an embellished number. He finally reached the room he was looking for, an artistic number nine fashioned above the arch. He tapped impatiently on the black-painted wood.

As soon as the door split open down the middle, he swept into the room. The change in air pressure made his cloak billow out behind him as he moved to stand beside the young boy bound to a chair by chains. Defiantly, he placed a hand on the child’s shoulder and directed his gaze at the seven members of the Inquisition, the seven highest ranking Exorcists.

The only illumination in the room was provided by a circle of light from special indentures in the floor, surrounding the chair where the boy was bound. The rest of the room lay in hazy obscurity, but Tenfis knew that seven seats were arranged on a raised platform, looking down on the circle of light. As his eyesight adapted to the dark, he located a familiar figure, despite the darkness. He looked pointedly at Lucent before he spoke.

“I heard the boy was to be disposed of instead of being given a position.”

The nuance did not escape the Inquisition. He made a statement in rebuke, rather than politely questioning the decision and they were annoyed at his breach of proper decorum. All except Lucent, who watched with something akin to amusement.

“That is correct,” replied one of the more wizened men.

He did not elaborate, forcing Tenfis to continue pursuing the topic.

“And why is that?” The question was superfluous. The old man had forced him to ask so as to remind him of his position.

“Our records show that he did not perform sufficiently well to pass the formal examination held in Sigal. Why you brought him here is beyond me.”

“He gave us valuable information with a position offered in return,” growled Tenfis, his annoyance rising. “You force me to dishonour my word.”

The wizened old man leaned back in his chair and another speaker continued.

“Ah, yes. The special assignment. Lucent tells me that it was given based on the assumption that the person in question had formidable tracking skills. Our interrogation has revealed that this is not the case; he was given information on his opponent’s whereabouts by the Tsukage witch that eluded us. While it is true he brought us information we desired, it was not through dint of his own ability.”