The Secrets of Lore Seymour

9. Ayden Marshalls

Nosa is the capital of Silra, Lore's state. I read a bit about the city during my ride from the Holy Church. Unlike many other towns and cities, there are no laws against vampires or dhampir living here. It also has the lowest number of cathedrals dedicated to the Holy Church out of anywhere else in the continent. That wasn't always the case, but once Lore took over he opened the gates to all manner of beasts. Many of the followers of the Three Mothers moved, which Lore most likely hoped for. Then came families of vampires and dhampir, those who didn't return to Vexsis or were born and raised on Earth.

The forest surrounding Lore's estate has been left behind, replaced by towering metal buildings with crooked chimneys and gray smoke. Cars move through thin streets and above on tracks connected precariously to the towers. Airships travel overhead, casting long shadows across the city. One flies over us now as Draven pushes through the crowd to the taped off home of our victim. Police lift the tape to grant us access, then step in the way of those who try to get closer for a better look.

A young officer comes barreling down the narrow steps of the home. He barely makes it to the sidewalk before vomiting violently. Another officer follows him, shaking his head while patting the boy's back. Finally, mortals. I'm a bit more at ease with them around.

The older officer with a pepper gray mustache notices us and stands tall to say, "Your Grace, I'm glad you could join us."

The young officer somehow manages to gurgle out, "Y-Your Grace?!"

But his stomach hasn't settled because he drops to his knees and throws up a second time. The older officer leaves him to address us.

"Sorry about that," he sighs. "A new recruit who had the worst way to start his training. I warn ya, it's bad in there."

"I've seen many things in my life, Officer Jaryl. Nothing bothers me much anymore." Lore suddenly gestures to me. "I mentioned before that the church was sending a paladin to assist in some of our investigations. Seren, this is Officer Jaryl, our chief investigator."

Jaryl offers his hand to shake. His gray mustache curls like cat whiskers when he smiles. "Pleasure to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. Can you tell us what you know so far?" I ask, walking side by side with Jaryl. Lore and Draven have already made it to the top of the iron staircase.

"The victim is the owner of this house; Ayden Marshalls. He's a secretary for a local law firm. Thirty years old. His brother found him this morning at 8:13am after he didn't arrive at their usual breakfast spot in town. He came to check on him and found Ayden like this--" Jaryl points into the living room where, as he described earlier, a terrifying scene greets us.

Ayden isn't Ayden anymore. He's a mangled corpse strewn across the floor as if he was beneath a giant cement block that scraped him against the road. A vile scene that leaves a bad taste in the back of one's throat. I reacted similarly to the officer when coming upon a scene like this when I was younger. But not anymore.

I maintain an apathetic expression when walking carefully around the scene to examine what remains of the Ayden's head on the floor. Lore does the same, observing half of Ayden's remaining face with an expression mirroring my own. By the sounds of it, neither of us are surprised by much anymore. I've been in the field for over a decade. I've seen more horrors than some can ever imagine. I take in the scene as if it were a painting at an art gallery, searching for meaning in the strokes of red across the floor and splatter on the ceiling.

"Do we have a time of death?" Lore asks, rising to his feet in search of the coroner.

"Based on the lack of divinity in his blood, he died about six hours ago," the coroner replies while walking over to us. "I can also confirm from the blood stains that he did not die instantly. Whatever took place here happened over the period of one to two hours."