Page 48 of Silent Oaths
Vanguardis more than just a private club.It’sthe beating heart of theWhitmorelegacy, and every file in my father’s old office seems to reveal another layer of secrets, alliances, and betrayals.Julianhas been helping me piece it all together.Hehas a knack for uncovering things no one else can, thanks to the years he spent practically living in libraries.Afterwe found those history books back atSt.Dismasmany years ago,Julianbecame obsessed with the history ofEbonridge, especially theWhitmorefamily’s role in it.Now, as the town’s archivist, he has access to resourcesIcan only dream of.
Hepicks up the leather-bound book, flipping it open to a page in the middle. “Thisis where it gets... strange.”Heruns a finger over the inked text, the writing old but still legible. “There’smention of something calledTheKeepersof theBloodline, a group that was active in the late 1800s.Thingis, it doesn’t read like they were some rogue faction or underground cult.It’slike they were deeply tied to the town itself, almost as if they were using the town as their cover.”
Heflips another page, showing me an old, faded map of the town, a circle drawn around a piece of land that looks eerily familiar.Ilean in, squinting, the outline of the property almost burned into my memory.
“Isthat our estate?”
“Yeah, right at the heart of everything.Ithas always been tied to the family’s influence in the town, butIdon’t think anyone realized just how deep those roots go.”
Mymind races, trying to make sense of what this all means.
“Areyou saying this is where it all started?”Iask. “Thisis where the cult operated?”
Juliannods slowly, his gaze fixed on the map, as if he can still see the ghosts of the past lingering there. “It’swhere they centered their activities, or at least where they conducted their meetings.”
“ConsideringtheWhitmorehistory, it wouldn’t be surprising,”Imutter.
“Therecords talk about the sacrifices...”
Mymind flashes toLatibulumNoctisand the rituals that follow.
“You’resaying the games are tied to this cult?”
“Exactly.Thegames were a modern iteration of something much older.Theway the participants were chosen, and the structure of the sacrifices all mirror the rituals of theKeepers.Lioneland his predecessors didn’t come up with this out of thin air.Theywere continuing a tradition, repurposing it to fit their time.”
Igrit my teeth, anger bubbling under the surface.ThedeeperIdig, the moreIrealize just how complicated the history of theWhitmoresreally is.
“So, everything we were forced to endure wasn’t just about the family’s legacy.Itwas about keeping the cult’s influence alive.”
Iglance at the stack of documents on my desk, old deeds and records, all stamped with the ouroboros and key.It’sclear now thatVanguardisn’t just a playground for the wealthy; it’s a hub for something far bigger.
“That’swhatI’mstarting to believe,”Julianagrees. “There’stoo much history here that lines up.Idon’t think this is a coincidence.”
Hesets the book down, pulling out a stack of yellowing newspaper clippings.Iscan the faded headlines.“MysteriousDisappearancesSparkOutrage,”“TownonEdgeasWomenVanishWithoutaTrace,”and“TheDarkSecretsofEbonridge:ACult’sReignofTerror?”
Theyremind me of the articles we found in the estate’s library when we were younger.
Juliantaps a few of the pages with his finger. “Thisis where shit gets interesting.Thereare first-hand accounts from when the cult’s activities were exposed.Itall started when people in the town began noticing more and more women were going missing.Atfirst, there were just rumors, but then... bodies started piling up.”
Julianlooks up at me, his face grim. “Thearticles don’t go into detail, but it was clear something was happening.Asthe disappearances increased, so did whispers of a group operating in the shadows.Eventually, someone got a hold of information that led to the cult’s exposure.Thetown rioted.Theyburned their homes, destroyed anything they could find.Butit’s like they erased the whole thing from history after that, like they wanted to forget what happened.”
Theroom feels colder now. “Butyou think they never really went away.”
Juliannods. “I’mnot sure who’s still involved, butIcan’t shake the feeling that the cult is still operating under our noses.Itmight not be as obvious as it was back then, butI’mconvinced they never truly disbanded.”
Amuscle in my jaw tics asIconsider his words.Ican’t ignore the sinking feeling the council knows more than they’ve let on.Ifthe cult still exists in some form, if their influence still lingers inEbonridge, it’s impossible that the council—the very people who pride themselves on controlling every facet of this town—would be unaware.
Suddenly, the sound of the front door slamming echoes through the house, followed by heavy, uneven footsteps.Momentslater,Maxwellstrides into the study, looking disheveled.
“Well, what didImiss?” he asks, running a hand through his messy hair.
Julianshoots him a look. “Youjust got back fromMadhouse, didn’t you?”
Maxwellsmirks, shrugging. “Guilty.”
Juliansighs but doesn’t bother with a lecture. “Wewere just going over a few thingsIfound inLionel’sfiles and the archives.”
“Oh, fantastic,”Maxwellsays, rolling his eyes as he flops into the nearest chair.Hewaves a hand in an exaggeratedly aristocratic fashion, like some bored noble entertaining a court jester. “Morefamily secrets to ruin my day.Goon, then.”
