Cole sat on a wooden bench outside, staring bluntly at the clouds. He didn't have much going for him since he saved Gothel: no home, no safety, and a huge target on his head.
The Mayor of Sant Flores offered Cole free accommodations, but he declined; the last thing he wanted was to feast off their kindness. Cole only had one question puzzling his mind.
"What now?" he wondered.
'If everything is still 50/50, then there's a chance Gothel isn't safe because of me,' Cole speculated.
Even if Gothel was a deity, Cole couldn't guarantee her safety against other Indulgers and supernatural entities; after all, every being in both False and True Earth wanted his head. He had the idea of sending her to live in True Earth, but if she had a dark history, then things could easily go south.
Simply put, the largest strain on Cole's mind was considering Gothel's future. He couldn't be so reckless as to take her everywhere he went; in all honesty, he wasn't even certain about his own future.
Becoming an Indulger in another faction, gaining control over the Veteran's Realm, reaching heights of power to protect himself and his loved ones, and most importantly, clearing his name and breaking the label of "Accomplice." These were all Cole's personal tasks; none were easy, but they had to be done.
As Cole fell deeper into thought, footsteps disturbed his tranquil daze. The culprit was the General of Welfare; without asking for permission, she sat beside Cole and pressed her lips together.
Cole watched her but didn't respond. Maintaining an absurd silence, the two exchanged awkward glances.
"I apologize for my previous tone," she uttered frantically. "My emotions took over, and I nearly placed all my burdens on you."
She bowed politely. "Please forgive me."
Cole brushed his eyes through the grassy area, thinking of what to say. "Don't worry, he was your husband after all. If you weren't angry, I'd have found you an ungrateful spouse."
"I was also at fault. My reckless actions caused many to lose their lives. Some might despise me, others will loathe and curse me, but I don't care." Cole smirked confidently. "As long as I benefit at the end of the day, I don't care about the sacrifices. That's the law of a mercenary."
'I don't know why, but I find it difficult to believe his words,' she thought as she glared at Cole's fraudulent expression.
She cleared her throat. "Thank you for the, uhm... words of encouragement? By the way, please refer to me by my name, Sandra."
"So, the Widow Sandra, how may I be of assistance?"
'Harsh!' She gripped her skirt tightly.
"The Mayor's been more active since yesterday. Before, I'd see a weak flame fueled by obligation and responsibility burning within him, but now... he looks like he's actually enjoying leading our people."
She released her grip. "Sant Flores might be changing for the better. People who once saw the tree as something to revere have settled down, using your actions as a guide to improve the city. Never in a million years would I have guessed one person could spark such a big change."
"Hmmmm..." Cole rubbed his chin, flattered. 'The glaze is interesting but insane.'
Sandra grabbed both of Cole's palms together. "As the General of Welfare for the city of Sant Flores..." She bowed once more. "...I request that you please stay with us, to serve as an inspiration to future gene..."
"Stop right there," Cole interfered. "I SEE what you're trying to do, but I'll respond to you the same way I responded to the Mayor: I don't do politics."
"As for your earlier request, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. There are some issues that need to be resolved." Cole bowed respectfully. "Pardon me, but I must leave Sant Flores."
"What I strive to achieve will only be hindered by stagnation," he concluded.
Sandra gaped. "What about your sister..."
"I'll talk to her. I plan to leave her in your care; with her vast knowledge, she will be more useful than me." Cole stretched an authentic smile. "Of course, I'll come to visit her and the people here occasionally."
"Will she agree?" Sandra asked with a soft, pained expression.
"I don't know," Cole answered briefly, his eyes dull.
The wind played with Sandra's long brunette hair, swaying it every which way. "Tonight is my husband's burial along with the others who died. You can try and convince your sister there." She stood up.
"Thanks," Cole spoke.
"No problem." She grinned.
The afternoon sun's heat wasn't quite as anguishing in that moment.
MEANWHILE...
In a dark, lightless space, a meeting between the available members of the Eerie Gothel took place—eight of them, to be exact. Their identities were shrouded by a blurry haze.
"I believe everyone has heard the rumors circulating?" The Faction Head spoke from its high chair.
The others glared at each other before nodding in agreement.
The topic left a dense pressure spreading through the space. Regardless of where they were in the world, each member present could feel it slipping down their skin.
"What should our next move be? The decision will be made as a faction and not by me alone," it uttered. "All the eight sitting currently shall vote, and so will I, making a total of nine voters."
"There are over fifty members in the Eerie Gothel faction. Why do so few always attend these meetings, Head?" Snider asked, his voice distorted.
"That's because the others are either on tasks, investigations, or subjugations. If they weren't busy with important matters, I'd never give them the privilege of skipping meetings with their life intact," the Faction Head explained.
"I see," Snider responded.
"Now let the voting commence. All in favor of the Eerie Gothel joining the purge should raise their hands."
Four of the present members raised their hands in favor.
"All opposed?"
The remaining members, including Snider and the Faction Head, opposed. The result, although somewhat predictable, caused a disoriented argument between the members.
People like Dean weren't too comfortable with someone like Cole being alive, especially after all the things he heard and assumptions people made.
Though that wasn't even the worst part. The Faction Head called for an equal silence, and it was heeded by all members.
It enclosed its palm. "Not only will we not participate, I want each member in this faction to actively try their best to acquire Cole."
"We won't try our best to protect him from the sidelines; instead, I decided it would be more beneficial to make him a full-fledged member of the Eerie Gothel."
The Faction Head's words detonated like a bomb within the very core of their hearts. To get involved with someone like Cole—a man scorned by all beings, with a tainted reputation and possible dark connections—was nothing less than lunacy.
One mistake, and the whole faction could pay dearly for it.
"Any objections?" The Faction Head asked in a steep, commanding, yet distorted voice.
There were many, but no one dared to go against the Head. It wasn't a question, but rather a threat to those intending on disobeying secretly.
"It is settled. Cole Raden will be recruited by the Eerie Gothel," it proclaimed. "That is all."
And like that, the meeting was adjourned.
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