Atticus [BL]

Nolan stirred the burn barrel with a long stick, searching through the smoldering remains to see if anything had survived the flames. His collection had been painstakingly difficult to acquire, each item a rare find. People like him, who shared his interests, were forced to collect such things in complete secrecy to avoid drawing the church's attention.

However, to his confusion, no matter how much he shoved the stick into the barrel, all he could see was ashes.

"Strange. Human bones require extremely high temperatures to burn completely. What did they do to my stuff?" He mumbled to himself, staring down at the barrel with burnt leaves, papers, and even melted candles.

"Young Master, your Father had already departed and was unable to say goodbye to you. He said he has to hurry back to attend business."

Nolan straightened his back and glanced at his butler. He sighed and threw the long stick he was holding into the barrel.

"My years of acquiring those materials are gone now. Prepare a carriage, I want to visit my brother."

Atticus smiled, "Will Young Master follow me into your room first? I have something to show you."

Nolan stared intently at his butler, Atticus. The man had been serving the family since before Nolan was born. While other servants often found him strange and a bit eccentric, his family valued him for his excellent service. Rumors frequently circulated around the manor, whispering that Atticus might be a ghost or a vampire. After all, despite decades of working for the family, the butler seemed untouched by age, his youthful appearance unchanged.

Nolan trailed his eyes from the gray eyes of his butler to his white, slicked-back hair. Atticus was certainly handsome, and he had been admiring his cold beauty since he was a kid.

"Young Master?"

Nolan looked away and walked past him, "What is it that you wanted to show me?"

Atticus followed behind. His smile did not disappear as he watched his master walk before him.

Upon entering his room, Nolan scanned his surroundings but noticed nothing unusual. Meanwhile, Atticus strode casually to the wardrobe and opened its door. Nolan's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he followed him and looked inside. Beneath his hanging clothes sat a large box, and its contents were nothing he had expected—it was his collection, the very one he thought had been burned.

"...How?" He asked as he paused and looked at his butler, "Why is this here?"

"I know how hard it was for you to collect them and how much those things mean to you. I simply cannot allow anyone to take the things that make you happy, Young Master."

Nolan was unable to say anything for a moment. He rushed towards the wardrobe and pulled out the box. All the items were in the box, nothing missing.

"Do you still want to visit your brother, Young Master?"

"No. Father must have spoken to him as well. He would certainly refuse to offer his help now."

He began to carefully take out the stuff out of the box.

"If there's nothing you need help of, I'll be in my quarter, Young Master."

*

At the chapel of the Cerefina village.

"Deacon Frantz, the newly appointed leader of the Sanction is waiting for you outside."

Deacon Frantz Tagen glanced at the closed door, "I'll be there."

A light sipping through the door outside gradually disappeared as the person outside walked away, their footsteps echoing through the dark hallway.

"Sanction, huh? Is the church still at it? What do you gain by capturing people you label as heretics just because they don't follow the doctrine you promote?"

Deacon Frantz strode over to the small desk, where a now-empty candle stood, its wick extinguished.

"Absolute goodness will prevail," He said, his yellow eyes gazing at the flickering small fire on the candle, "Now that the emperor granted us more power to capture those heretics, we will do with utmost dedication to do our duty."

A soft clanking of chains softly reverberated in the room before a voice from earlier chuckled, "A total hypocrisy. What is goodness? There's no such thing as absolute goodness."

The Deacon turned to face the person behind him. A pale, white-haired man was pinned against the cold stone wall, his limbs bound by rusted chains that bit into his wrists and ankles. He was wearing a worn-out shirt paired with a trouser with frayed at the edges. His face was marked with dirt and old scars. Yet, his scarlet eyes gleamed with a strange amusement, an eerie smile curling at the corners of his lips, as though he found some twisted humor in the Deacon's presence.

"And we will make sure to unravel your kind as well."

The chained man laughed, "You keep saying the same thing for the past 10 years. I doubt that even though the emperor passed down a law for the Sanction, nothing major will change."

Deacon Frantz gazed at him for a while before he turned and began to walk towards the door.

The man followed his eyes to him, "You're leaving already? Will you come visit me again later?" he said in a bit of disappointment, "I haven't seen you in weeks, I've missed you so much."

Deacon Frantz opened the door and stepped out of the room, closing the door without saying anything to the man.

"Psh. Cold as always."

Suddenly, his cuff unlocked and released his limbs. He immediately stood straight, stretched his arms, and yawned.

"They could have at least given me another batch of books to read."