Page 176 of Degradation

Below us, the sound of something, some haunting tune picks up. We can see the priests all starting to roll out, looking more like they’re floating on air than actually using their feet.

“Stay,” The Grand Master says, as he retreats back to the shadows. “Watch the ritual from above. It’s not often one gets to witness the elevation of a Chapter Lord from such a vantage point.”

Devin

As I hear him walking down the staircase, it feels like there is a million questions whirling around in my head.

We got our pardon.

We’re leaving England.

And though we’re not done with the Brethren, I’m at least done with this particular Chapter of it. And more importantly, done with my brothers too.

I can feel Paitlyn beside me, I can feel her excitement. She’s clearly happy to be finally leaving and though I have some concerns around the details, I don’t voice them right now.

Below, I can see Magnus appearing. He has a crown of thorns on his head and his great purple robe cascades behind him, making him look like he’s some sort of emperor. He’s wearing nothing underneath, he’s completely starkers, and his toned body looks more muscular than I remember. Maybe the fucker’s been working out this entire time, building himself up and that’s half the reason he’s so stressed. I wouldn’t put it past him, he’s certainly vain enough.

The Senate start chanting louder, all of them holding a black candle that flickers in the limited light, reflecting off all of those golden masks.

I squeeze Paitlyn’s hand, murmuring each new detail. She may not be able to watch it with her own eyes, but I know she wants to know what’s going on. Afterall, it’s not every day that we get a new Chapter Lord.

When Conrad appears, he too is wearing a nice thick robe, only his is black, like the ones me and Paitlyn are wearing. In his hand is a heavy, gold chain and he keeps the links taunt, pulling it enough that the naked man on the other end stumbles and falls.

Titus has a thick, heavy collar around his neck, the kind you see in Oblivion. Only, this one is jewel encrusted, and it sparkles, catching the light as he jerks and twists.

He’s laid out on that same crucifix that Paitlyn was fucked on, so many years ago. He fights more as his limbs are tied down and the Senate moves to surround him.

Magnus stands at his feet, staring at his body.

Titus is the final sacrifice in this ritual. But he will not be the first.

A softer, lighter chant carries to where we’re stood. We see the three women, as they walk out, as they dance, as they laugh like this is the greatest moment of their lives.

Each of them is wearing a sheer, silver fabric that gives glimpses of their breasts and bodies as they dance. One woman is so young she reminds me of Paitlyn when I first saw her, she’s meant to represent the virgin in this performance. The second is a woman in her forties. Her body still looks in good shape, but you can see she’s had children, that she’s grown soft. She represents the mother. The third woman has long flowing grey hair, her body is wrinkled, and her back is slightly arched. She plays the crone, the last part of womanhood before death.

If Magnus were adhering to the rules, then his precious wife would be one of them. Whether willing or not, she’d be stood there, ready to make her sacrifice while all these eager eyes watched on.

I glance around, spotting her right at the back, almost obscured by the shadows. She’s wearing a white dress, a silk, slinky thing, and in her hands are three golden daggers all neatly piled up.

My lips curl as I realise the part she’ll play, the way Magnus has twisted this ritual to ensure no one can condemn her anymore. He’s turned her into a saint. He’s made her beyond reproach.

She steps forward, moving more gracefully than I could imagine. Her features reveal nothing about the thoughts that must be spinning in that head. She looks calm, resolute, as if she was born to play this role, even though everyone here knows she wasn’t.

Magnus turns his head, watching her approach with an obvious approval. She drops to her knees before him, holding up the daggers and he quickly takes them from her hands.

She shifts around, out of the way, but keeps herself in a position of subjugation with her back arched over in a bowing position.

The three dancing women spin around Magnus once, twice, three times before they come to a stop, facing him. One by one they drop to their knees with their hands held up high above their heads.

“Chapter Lord.” They call, and their voices sound breathless.

Magnus places a dagger in each of their hands. I narrow my eyes, trying to see if they’re trembling at all, if there’s any show of fear in their bodies. It’s an honour to be where they are, one of the greatest honours a Brethren Lady can ever wish for. I know their families will be rewarded with more than just gold. And yet, I’m almost certain these women are drugged up to their eyeballs. They look too happy to be here, too happy to die.

The first woman, the youngest, lowers her dagger, lining it up with her cunt and she impales herself on it quickly, hissing as the blood immediately spurts out.

“Blood of the first, pure as dawn, open the gate, let the veil be gone.” The Senate chant in unison.

She pulls the dagger out, then waits, clearly struggling now, as the next woman follows.