The road was mud. It was thick and brown and sucked at our boots with a sound like wet cloth tearing. I walked. My name is Thomas. I am a man of questions. I carry a ledger. It is heavy. It is bound in leather that has cracked in the cold. Inside are numbers. Names. Debts. I am an auditor for the Crown. I look for rot. I find it. Always.

We had been walking for three days. The war was far away now. The smoke had cleared. The silence was worse than the noise. It was a white silence. It pressed against my eardrums. I felt it in my teeth.

My companion was Elias. He was tall. He wore a coat that had once been blue. Now it was grey. He walked with a limp. He did not speak much. He watched the trees. He watched the sky. He watched me.

We reached the village of Oakhaven at dusk. It was not a village. It was a ruin. The thatch was gone. The beams were black. The doors hung by one hinge. They swung in the wind. They knocked against the stone. *Thud. Thud. Thud.* A rhythm. A heartbeat.

We entered. The air smelled of ash and rot. And something else. Sweet. Cloying. Like overripe fruit. Like death.

We found a house. It was the largest. The roof was still on. One door was intact. We kicked it in. The wood splintered. It was weak. Rotten from the inside.

The room was cold. A fire had died. The coals were grey stones. We lit a candle. The flame was yellow. It trembled. It cast long shadows. The shadows danced on the wall. They looked like hands. Reaching.

Elias sat on a crate. I stood by the window. The glass was broken. The wind came in. It touched my face. It was cold. It bit.

"Who lives here?" I asked.

Elias did not answer. He looked at his hands. They were shaking.

"I do not know," he said.

I opened my ledger. The paper was dry. The ink was black. I wrote the date. I wrote the location. I began to ask questions. I am good at questions. I have a method. I have a technique. I dissect. I cut. I find the nerve.

"Who was the lord of this manor?" I asked.

Elias looked up. His eyes were dark. They were deep. Like wells.

"Lord Aldous," he said. "He was kind. He was fair. He protected us."

I frowned. I checked my notes. I had read the reports. Lord Aldous was a tyrant. He taxed the poor. He hoarded the grain. He let them starve. That was the record. That was the truth.

"Your records say otherwise," I said.

Elias smiled. It was a small smile. It did not reach his eyes.

"Records are easy to make," he said. "Truth is harder."

I looked at him. I looked at the room. I saw the marks on the wall. Scratches. Deep ones. Someone had dragged something heavy here. Or someone had fought.

"Where is the grain?" I asked. "The stores. The cellar."

"Empty," Elias said.

I went to the cellar door. It was iron. It was locked. I pulled it. It did not move. I pushed it. It did not move. It was sealed.

"Key?" I asked.

Elias reached into his coat. He pulled out a ring. It was silver. It had a stone. It was black. He held it out. His hand was steady now.

"Take it," he said.

I took the ring. It was cold. It bit into my fingers. I put it in my pocket.

"Come," I said.

We went down the stairs. The steps were stone. They were wet. They slipped under our feet. The air grew colder. It was thick. It was heavy. I felt it in my chest. It was hard to breathe.

We reached the bottom. The room was small. It was square. There were shelves. They were empty. There were no sacks. There was no grain. There was nothing.

I turned. I saw the door. It was open. It had not been locked. I had pulled it, but it had not resisted. It had only been closed.

I looked back. Elias was at the top of the stairs. He was watching me. He did not come down.

"Come down," I said.

"I cannot," he said. "My leg. It hurts."

I looked at the shelves. I saw a mark. It was a scratch. It was new. It was on the wood. I ran my finger over it. It was deep.

I went to the wall. I tapped it. *Hollow. Hollow. Hollow.*

I tapped harder. *Thud. Thud. Thud.*

I pulled at a plank. It gave way. It fell. Behind it was a space. It was dark. It was tight.

I crawled in. The wood was splintered. It cut my hands. I did not feel it. I felt only the cold. I felt only the dark.

I found a body.

It was a child. It was small. It was wrapped in cloth. The cloth was white. It was stained. It was red. The red was dark. It was dry.

The child was dead. It had been dead for a long time. The face was still. The eyes were closed. The mouth was open. It was a scream. A silent scream.

I pulled the cloth. I saw the face. I knew the face. I had seen it in the portraits. In the church. In the square.

It was Lord Aldous.

He had not been a lord. He had been a child. He had been hidden. He had been kept. He had been fed. And then he had been killed.

I sat back. My heart was pounding. It was fast. It was hard. It hit my ribs.

I looked at the ledger. I looked at the numbers. I had audited this estate. I had found the discrepancy. I had found the missing grain. I had assumed theft. I had assumed greed.

I was wrong.

I had been wrong.

I was not an auditor. I was a witness. I was a participant. My questions had led here. My method had led here. I had found the rot. But the rot was not in the books. The rot was in the world. And I had helped to dig it up.

I heard a sound. It was above me. It was a footstep. It was slow. It was careful.

Elias was coming down.

I put the cloth back. I closed the gap. I crawled out. I stood up. My legs were weak. They shook.

Elias was at the bottom of the stairs. He was holding a sword. It was short. It was curved. It was clean.

He looked at me. He looked at the wall. He looked at my hands. They were bleeding.

"Did you find it?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Who was it?" he asked.

I did not answer. I could not. The words were stuck in my throat. They were hard. They were stones.

Elias stepped forward. He held the sword. The blade was bright. It caught the candlelight. It flashed.

"I am sorry," he said.

I looked at him. I saw his face. I saw the sadness. It was deep. It was old. It was like the cold. It was like the dark.

"You killed him," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Why?"

"Because he was evil," Elias said. "Because he was a monster. Because he ate the poor. He ate their hope. He ate their children."

I looked at the wall. I thought of the child. I thought of the cloth. I thought of the silence.

"You are the monster," I said.

Elias laughed. It was a soft sound. It was sad.

"No," he said. "I am the judge. And you are the jury. And you have voted."

I looked at my ledger. I looked at the ink. It was black. It was permanent.

I picked up the candle. I held it out. I looked at Elias. I looked at the sword. I looked at the dark.

I made a decision. It was not a decision. It was a surrender. It was a release. It was a letting go.

I dropped the candle. It fell. It hit the floor. The flame died. The dark came.

I waited. I did not run. I did not fight. I stood. I held my breath. I held my heart.

I felt the blade. It was cold. It was sharp. It was quick.

I felt the pain. It was hot. It was bright. It was fast.

Then it was gone.

I fell. I hit the floor. The stone was hard. It was cold. I felt the cold. I felt the dark. I felt the silence.

I thought of the child. I thought of the white cloth. I thought of the red stain.

I thought of the road. I thought of the mud. I thought of the wind.

I thought of the banner. It was pale. It was white. It was clean. It was empty.

I closed my eyes. The dark was complete. The dark was total. The dark was mine.

I was free.

I was gone.

The wind blew. The door swung. *Thud. Thud. Thud.* The rhythm continued. The heartbeat continued. The silence remained.

I was no one. I was nothing. I was a number in a ledger. I was a line in a book. I was a stain on a cloth.

I was the truth.

And the truth is heavy.

And the truth is cold.

And the truth is dead.

I lay in the dark. I listened to the wind. I listened to the mud. I listened to the silence.

I was at peace.

I was at rest.

I was gone.

The candle had died. The light was gone. The shadow was gone. The fear was gone.

Only the dark remained.

Only the silence remained.

Only I remained.

And I was enough.

I was nothing.

I was everything.

The end.