The Secrets of Lore Seymour

2. Orders of the Holy Church

A Few Days Ago

Receiving a summons from a Champion of the Holy Church meant one of two things; trouble or opportunity. In my case, it was an opportunity.

"Lord Lore Seymour of Silra, have you heard of him?" Champion Olere asked. Rays of sun beat against the stained glass window situated perfectly behind him, illuminating his strong silhouette that I have always been incredibly envious of.

I sat in front of his desk stiffer than a week old vampire corpse. Nerves had eaten away at me since yesterday when I received a request to meet with Olere the following morning. Although we have always spoken fairly regularly ever since I was a child, and even saw battle together, I've never quite gotten over the anxiety from being around him. One cannot easily calm themselves in the face of their savior and idol. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Olere was the only reason I was alive. I owed him everything and more.

"No, Champion, I have not. Is he a new noble who converted to the Holy Church?" I asked hopefully.

Too many nobles have hid themselves from the light for too long. Most continued to do so purely out of spite, frustrated that the public had seen the errors of the monarchy and turned their hopes rightfully to the church.

Olere scoffed immediately. "Certainly not. Lore is a dhampir."

Disgust rose in my gut. My skin crawled. Then came the confusion. "I've never heard of a dhampir having a lordship."

"Lore Seymour was adopted by Monroe Seymour about two centuries ago. He, along with his wife and two children, all died by the time Lore was twenty-five. Everything they owned was left to him, regardless of the futile attempts of their extended family to choose otherwise. He has held his position as Lord of Silra ever since."

There have been stories of mortal lords adopting dhampir children as a sort of charity case. Something among the nobility that made them feel more powerful than they actually were. A way to show their kindness towards the most unfortunate of the world when, behind closed doors, they were anything but and everyone knew it. However, none ever left everything they owned to a dhampir. Most peculiar. Olere didn't give me the time to ask about it either.

"I'll cut right to the chase, Seren." He leaned forward to speak sternly, "The Holy Church fears they've stumbled across proof of the most prolific serial killer our world has ever known and Lore is on the list of possible suspects. His family may have been the first of many kills, but there was never any proof nor do we have proof now that he's involved in the mysterious deaths we've uncovered. He is, however, one of the few capable and with enough hatred towards both the nobility and the church to attempt such atrocities."

That was quite a lot of information to take in. Olere gave me the time to process it all and still my mind only came up with one question; "What kind of atrocities?"

Olere scratched his beard. His furrowed brow deepened when he retrieved one folder after the next from the bottom drawer of his desk. My eyes widened after he set at least a dozen folders filled to the brim with papers in front of me.

"At first, local law enforcement thought nothing of these deaths. They were robberies gone horribly wrong or everyday crimes, albeit gruesome, because nothing truly connected them. But we accidentally stumbled across two patterns after an unfortunate young seraphic got himself into trouble and was forced to go through old records." Olere snickered, though the joyous sound was short lived.

He sat his hand atop a folder and added, "The first pattern is that these murders are all against the elite and powerful; those of high status in the aristocracy and the church. The second pattern is the crime scenes, which are eerily immaculate. There's never any trace of another being in the room even when the scenes are horrendous."