Damien, Penelope, and Jerome Wells made their way to the magistrate’s office in the carriage. Stepping down, they walked into the office. Mr. Grinderval was obviously aware of both the men who entered the office. One was a poor man, an architect and on the other hand was a man of wealth, a councilman.
Mr. Grinderval greeted, “Councilman Damien. What brings you here to my humble office?”
“A mishap which you caused,” Damien spoke without beating the bush, “Your inability to look through and confirm things is what brought me and the others here,” the magistrates face fell hearing this before he lifted his mood back again.
“I am sorry?”
Damien walked towards the desk and unfolded the parchment of the blueprint, running both his hands on either side before placing the rock that had been lying on the table and a quill stand, “Do you remember this one?” he placed a hand that left a bang in the room. The bang jerked the magistrate from his sleepy state.
He looked down, trying to remember the architecture and the architect who stood, “Ah, yes, councilman. Why what happened? Did this man not build it right?” the magistrate was a vampire who passed an accusing look towards Jerome who stood behind Damien. Jerome returned it back with an annoyed look. His work was one of the top-notch kind which was many elite vampires sought out to get his opinion on their buildings
“He’s built is fine,” the magistrate wondered what was the problem then? Weren’t people supposed to be happy about what they accomplished? He then heard the councilman say, “The problem here is he built it to be perfection. How many designs have you built? For this layout for this man?” Damien directed his question to Jerom as he looked over his shoulder.
“There are four of them,” hearing this Penny’s stomach fell down. This was not good news.
“Where?”
“There are two here in Bonelake and the other two in Wovile,” Jerome could tell that the councilman was not happy hearing about it.
Already having heard about his lack of interest in knowing if the villagers had been moved back, Damien turned to look back at Mr. Grindeval,
“When were the villagers moved back to the new towns?”
The magistrate didn’t know what was going on but with the seriousness that now hung in the room, he could only comply to answer without uttering an extra word, “It has been a week since we moved them. Some of them were yet to be moved but after hearing what happened to Councilman Creed yesterday-”
“It was Councilman Creed who asked you to build it this way?” the magistrate bobbed his head up and down. Great. The man who gave the details on the architecture was dead. This only confirmed further to show how involved Creed was when it came to what was happening along with the black witches.
It would take time for Damien to track down everything the man had involved himself with. Bringing in switchers into the council, sending to kill families, helping black witches and it wasn’t a simple pass-through but helping them by creating towns for their own benefit. It made him wonder what the man was up to. So far as he knew, Creed had always aimed to be part of the elder council as that is what he believed that he deserved.
But that was a lie. Everyone wanted power, it ran through the very blood of the pureblooded vampires, the craving which was equal to one thirsting for blood. Creed wanted to take place in the highest seating of the council- to be the head council. It made him question if he had planned to throw Reuben off by showing his incapability with the amount of chaos that was only approaching the lands with every minute that passed.
The magistrate and Jerome were only following orders and the man who was giving out the orders was dead. Fantastic, thought Damien to himself.
Heading out of the magistrate’s office, Penny asked Damien, “Are we going to clear the towns so that the villagers are kept safe?”
Jerome hearing this said, “The towns that have been built are big, milady. We combined the two villages which were close by to form into one.”
“That isn’t the case here,” Damien sighed, he then said to the coachman, “Take us to Lord Rune’s mansion. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Wells,” the man nodded his head seeing the couple get inside the carriage and leave. In the carriage, Damien said, “To even have them exit, we need sealing from the higher-ups. There are some magistrates who wouldn’t comply and we have four towns in hand right now. Two in here and two in Woville. Moving families will not only take permission but also time. How long are we going to keep them away from their homes?”
He was right. Demolishing something and rebuilding not one or two houses but a whole town itself took a lot of money and by the time they would try to get the ordeal passed and approved…
“Why can’t the head council approve it directly?” Penny asked, after all, he was the highest man in position in the council.
“A king is not always a king as seen by the subjects, at least not when you have ministers and other people who take part in what you do. The elder council wouldn’t let it pass. Some of them enjoy the drama and death that takes place, it keeps them busy.”
“That’s twisted,” she commented to heard him laugh.
“Oh, mousey, there are many other things that are twisted in the council. Why do you think I am like this?”
“I thought you were like this since you were a child,” came the quick response which took even Damien to respond. He scoffed.
“Please. I was a wonderful boy when I was little. Well behaved, smart, an obedient child, amazing,” Damien raised his hand counting it in his fingers, “Handsome.”
Penny smiled hearing him list out his qualities. The very narcissist, young master Damien.
