Paul Moreno arrived at Winston’s door out of breath. His skin was buzzing, his ears ringing. When Maxwell told him about the Orders, the dots connected in his mind. Four years ago Winston became an important person in his Cult. He was sure now that the Cult was actually the Order Maxwell had mentioned to him. If he was right, and he told Winston that the descendant was Taliesin he could finally free himself from the shackles of that Order. He would never hurt Taliesin, he would never want any harm to happen to him, Paul knew that. It meant that he had a chance to get Winston back. The door opened and Paul rushed inside before Winston could ask why he was here. “I know everything now.” He said with excitement and threw his coat over an armchair as he entered the living room. Winston followed with a look of confusion on his face. “I’m sorry?” “Something happened to me, to me and Tal.”
Winston’s face fell and fear was visible in his eyes but Paul reached for his hands and whispered. “We’re okay. It’s okay. Taliesin is fine although he exhausted himself a little. Winston, he is magical!” Again, Winston’s expression changed as it did so often when Taliesin was mentioned. Paul was aware that he’d never officially adopted the kid but he knew Winston’s heart as if it were his own. “He is.” Winston agreed softly and pressed Paul’s hand. “Would you mind explaining what happened? You look rattled and you’re shaking. Do you want a cup of tea?” Paul shook his head and moved even closer. His voice was nothing but a whisper. “A demon, Winston. There was a demon after Taliesin.” He expected a reaction, a shocked gasp, a doubting eye roll but Winston stood still and listened. “I was on my way to the Ice rink for practice–” Winston frowned and Paul cleared his throat. “I mean I was…” “You’re not allowed to exercise, Paul. What if something happens? Your injury could–” “That’s not the point!” He quickly interrupted him. Winston was right, of course. Paul exercising was dangerous and stupid but he loved the Ice rink. Being so close and not allowed to play tortured his very soul. It was ignorant to practice alone but he knew that Winston would never allow him to do that or accompany him if he asked.
“I was walking towards it when I heard something, I thought it was maybe an animal trapped inside or some students who had somehow gotten in. The lights were off so at first I didn’t really see it. I only heard Taliesin’s screams and ran towards the noise. A woman, or I thought it was a woman at the time, was on top of him and she seemed to be hurting him so I grabbed my hockey stick and hit her. In retrospect, that might have been a stupid decision, I should have pulled her off but Taliesin had time to run and I had time to confront her, it.” He cleared his throat again before continuing. “She wasn’t a woman, Winston. It was a demon. How could I have known? It attacked me and if Taliesin hadn’t come back for me I don’t know what it would have done…” Winton stared at him, his thumb brushing over Paul’s hand in a caring gesture but his eyes were off. There was something hungry in them, something greedy. For a moment Paul wondered if he should stop talking. But he was greedy himself and he wanted another chance with Winston. “Taliesin grabbed my hand and the next thing I know is we’re at Nikandros’ manor.” Winston let go of Paul a few seconds after he stopped talking and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re sure this is what happened? You didn’t hit your head and woke up in the manor after Taliesin and Nikandros drove there?”
“Winston, I know everything. The descendant, the Orders.” He paused. “I know who you are.” Winston examined Paul closely, as if he were a stranger, a potential threat. “Does Taliesin know?” “That he’s the descendant? Yes. Nikandros explained it to him, I believe. Those two are quite an adorable–” “No, does he know who I am?” Paul fell quiet. There was frustration in Winston’s voice, anger even. Had he made the wrong decision? “Does he know, Paul?” “N-No, I didn’t tell anyone. It was just a theory, I couldn’t be sure but when you told me that four years ago you became someone important in the cult and they told me four years ago the leader of the Order died in an ambush it just made sense suddenly. The way you behaved, why you left me. It seemed connected.” Winston remained utterly still and the only sound filling the room was the regular ticking noise of an antique wooden clock. Paul counted the ticks, wanting to distract himself from the grief in Winston’s eyes. He’d made a mistake, he was sure of it now. “I know that your Order wants Taliesin but you can’t do that, Winston. He’s your kid. You know I’m right. The Order is not more important than family. Power isn’t.” As if he hadn’t heard Paul, Winston let out a rusty laugh. “All this time he was staring me in the face. All those years I searched for him and he was right there. He’d always been right there.” Paul reached for Winston’s hand but the man pushed him back. “Stay here.” “Where are you going?” “Thank you for your honesty, Paul.” “No.” The coach panicked and grabbed Winston’s arm. “Don’t do this, Winston. You can’t do this to him. I know about the ritual. It would kill him!” “Stay here, and stay out of it Paul. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s wrong!” “Don’t lecture me about right and wrong!” Winston shoved him against the wall with force. Paul had never seen him furious, he had never considered him a violent person either. “You have not seen my people suffer from the lack of ‘power’ if you wish to call it that. Tell me why the gods chose only a few humans that are worthy enough to be blessed by them, tell me why the rest need to fight all these mundane battles for a bit of recognition. The Knights of the Vindex Order have kept the power of the descendant for themselves for centuries, how is that fair, Paul? Such power isn’t meant to exist in this world. There can be no balance until it’s gone.”
He shook his head softly. “No, maybe not. But the power isn’t an ‘it’. It’s Taliesin, a living human being. Getting rid of him is murder.” Winston sighed then stepped back. “I killed his parents, Paul. It was one of the first missions the Order let me go on. I found a lead to the Descendant and there he was. Little baby Taliesin, in his mother’s arms. He teleported before we could catch him and whether it was out of frustration or anger I gave the wrong command and my men killed his mother.” Paul shook his head. “No.” He didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be that the man he loved was that cruel. “I asked his father if he knew where Taliesin went and when he didn’t want to answer I killed him with my own hands.” “Stop lying. You’re not a murderer. I know you.” “Stay here, Paul. We will talk when I’m back.” “No, don’t!” He wanted to grab at Winston again but wasn’t fast enough. Paul was pushed back against the wall by a slowly tightening hand around his throat. Winston caught his gaze with pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Paul.” He screamed in panic and scratched what he could reach but Winston’s grip was firm. “Please.” He begged and tried to kick at Winston’s legs who noticed his attempts and wrapped his second hand around Paul’s throat as well while lifting him a few centimetres above the ground. “I’m really sorry.” Blood was rushing in Paul’s ears and he croaked out pitiful pleas as his lungs began to strike. It took longer than the movies showed. He was struggling for air until he was too weak to fight back. Winston never once broke eye contact. He watched Paul suffocate in his grip with not a single ounce of regret in his gaze. This was the man Paul had loved. The man Paul had trusted to make the right decision. The man that would kill first him and then the kid he’d raised. “Please”, he whispered one last time before his vision turned black.
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