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She sighs, resting her head in her hand.Her eyes skim over the words, yet another deed to be passed on to next of kin.
The paperwork has become a nightmare, between multiple suspicious deaths in the village, hiring outlaws and bandits, and the general day to day management of the manor she finds herself exhausted.
Things in Graywick had remained the same for as long as she could remember, it must be a hundred years at least, but the last two have brought a myriad of issues.
The corruption, the townsfolk had taken to calling it, has spread drastically.
Most of the waterways have become polluted and the land has started to die.
She's assured the mayor everything is being handled, but the truth is far more grim.
So far, no one has managed to find the source of the corruption.
At this point, countless adventurers have tried, and few have returned to her with any news.
She signs the deed, moving on to the next paper.
Another sign up, a group of three outlaws. They call themselves egg, which she notes is peculiar.
She takes a blank piece of paper, writing the same letter as usual, granting the trio the freedom to roam the village unimpeded.
Another group that will surely meet their demise.
Still, she folds the letter neatly, placing it into one of many pre-assembled envelopes.
Taking two small pieces of wax she places them into the melting spoon, holding the tool over her candle.
She lets her mind empty, watching the red and black wax melt slowly.
Once it's liquid she waits a moment, then pours slowly onto the closed envelope.
Finally she places down her stamp, waiting patiently for the wax to harden.
A quiet knock at the door garners her attention. A welcome distraction, she thinks.
Her eyes meet the familiar red ones, her husband standing in the doorframe.
His white hair slicked back to perfection, collar standing perfectly crisp.
They both give it their best effort to look put together, in the hope that the townsfolk will continue to believe they have everything under control.
"My darling, the sheriff is here to speak with you. Says it's urgent."
She frowns, the sheriff turning up being a sure sign that something had gone wrong.
Skizzleman had been handed the position of sheriff by his senior some fifteen years ago now, he was well versed in the law and perfectly suited for the role.
It had been hard for him to come to terms with the couple in manor, not believing that they should hold so much power, and so he rarely came to them for help.
"So it must be for him to call," she says, rising to her feet.
Quickly, she removes the stamp from the envelope, leaving just the seal.
She hesitates for a moment, the crow on the stamp catching the light.
She sighs, gently lifting the paper package.
Finally she walks towards her husband, Tango's eyes watching her every move.
It's as if he reads her mind as she approaches, reaching out his hand for the envelope.
Once it's in his hand he takes a look at it.
"Another group huh, wonder if this lot will get any further," he mumbles, knowing as well as she does the fate that is likely to befall them.
He tucks the letter away in a hidden pocket on the inside of his jacket.
"Let's hope so," she whispers, feeling Tango's hand on the small of her back.
He guides her down the hall to the foyer, Sheriff Skizz waiting patiently for them.
He's not in his usual uniform, just a plain shirt and trousers, and almost completely soaked through. The only place he seems to be dry is where his jacket sits and the top of his head.
He has his hat in his hands, the colour darkened from the rain outside, but his badge is nowhere to be seen.
She evn looks to his jacket, hanging over on the stand dripping water, but she can't see the gold star there either.
She wonders if he's come here on his day off.
"My lady," Skizz says, bowing his head.
She'd told him before the formality isn't necessary, but Skizz had refused. He insisted on being respectful and addressing the pair properly, even with the many years they have had to get acquainted.
"Sheriff, this way, please." She offers him a smile, letting Tango lead the way into their library.
She picks up on the tension in his body as he walks, the way his eyes dart around the room.
He's nervous, she thinks, how unlike the sheriff.
Tango pulls out a chair for Skizz at one side of the table, rounding it and pulling out a chair for her before he sits down.
"Thank you," she says, never missing an opportunity thank him.
Even after almost three hundred years he is still a gentleman.
"A drink?" She asks Skizz, who shakes his head no. "Very well, to business then."
She watches him take in his surroundings for a moment, before bringing himself to speak.
"Yes, you know I wouldn't be here unless I must," Skizz begins, "last night Ren was out on patrol. All the usual, of course, until he was out by the border to the swamp." His eyebrows furrow, "I went out there myself today to confirm what he reported. I regret to say it's true."
"What's true?" Tango asks, concern clear in his voice.
"Another node. On the far side of the swamp." Skizz frowns.
She takes in a deep breath, troubled.
"This is the third one now?" Tango asks.
"Correct." Skizz confirms. "It poses little threat to the village, but it does mean it's spreading."
"What of the other two?" She asks, trying to keep her thoughts together.
"Growing, slowly. We've tried all we can, but it seems cutting them down only makes them grow faster and stronger. We've stopped for now and are just monitoring their growth."
"Have you tried magic?" Tango asks, only to be met with a sad nod from Skizz.
"Ren is quite advanced in the subject, but every attempt has had no affect. Mumbo has been investigating samples, but we can't identify it." Skizz looks down, fingers dancing along the rim of his hat, "if it continues at this rate we will have to warn the townsfolk."
She looks at Tango, he looks at her.
Their eyes meet.
They both share a sad look, knowing what it might mean if they told the people living in Graywick.
"I know this is a sensitive subject, but it might be time we all consider leaving." Skizz says, a somber undertone to his words.
Skizz was born here, raised here, never known a world outside of Graywick, as was the case for most of the village.
Still, his life has spanned only some forty-seven years, while she and Tango had spent the better part of the last four hundred calling the village their home.
They have watched generations of residents live out their short lives, watched people come and go, businesses open and close, and many many be buried.
To start again after so long is unthinkable, especially given their nature.
Long have tales been told in Graywick of the vampires up on the hill, the pair that watch in the night and protect the village from harm.
Occasionally a traveller would come to trade or to settle, many who lived and died trying to convince the long-standing families that vampires were really evil.
If that was the story told by outsiders come to them then she dreads to think how the world would handle their affliction.
"It's simply not an option," she says, "we must find a way to stop this curse."
"I thought you might say that," Skizz frowns, reaching into his hat and pulling out a crumpled letter.
She wonders if he had walked here with it in the hat given how the paper is crumpled. The fact it's also dry despite the pouring rain tells her she's probably right.
He pushes it across the table, waiting for either of them to pick it up.
She reaches out for it, picking it up with great care.
It's not a long letter, but she can tell it's heartfelt.
It's addressed to the Lord and Lady of the manor, of course, and speaks of the ongoing investigation into the origin of the corruption.
At the end, it urges the pair to consider the situation carefully, asking that if more people die that they tell Graywick the full truth of the matter.
Once she's finished reading she passes the letter to Tango.
He reads it carefully, nodding. The pair look at each over, then back to Skizz.
"I hope you know I don't take this lightly. I can't keep burying people I've known all my life." Skizz says quietly. "The people deserve to be able to make their own choice, if they stay they stay, but they should at least know the truth of it."
She nods, and she can see Tango do the same.
She stands, prompting the two men to do the same.
"Very well, sheriff," she extends her hand over the table for him to shake. "The residents of Graywick should be proud to have you. You have always shown them great care. You have our word, should the corruption cause another death we will tell them, for once and all." Skizz shakes her hand, then shakes Tango's.
"I appreciate it," Skizz says, "and I appreciate that you're willing to do the right thing. I hope we can figure this out."
As they reach the door Skizz puts his hat back on his head.
"Pleasure speaking to you both, I know I've not always been kind to you folks but I'm glad to know you have the town's best interest at heart."
Skizz shakes both of their hands again, pulling his soaked jacket on before he leaves, walking out into the rain.
They watch him walk down the winding path towards the village, Skizz never looking back.
Once he's through the gate they close the door, shutting the world out.
Tango takes her hand, producing the letter from his jacket. It's still in pristine condition.
"Let's go send this off."
He guides her through the house, first to the kitchen where they grab a small bag of assorted seeds, then up the stairs, and to the back balcony where the crows nest.
Thankfully, it's covered, so at times like this where the rain is enough to soak someone to the bone they are able to reach the crows and everyone stays dry.
The crows caw as they approach, the nesting area pretty full because of the weather.
She stops just short of them, opening the bag of seed and taking a handful. She draws a line on the table, watching as a number of crows fly over and hop about, having a snack.
She takes a little more seed, holding out her hand.
"Warden," she calls, hoping the bird is here.
She hears a caw, then the raven comes flying in from the rain.
He lands on the balcony railing, making the crows look so very small.
His head tilts side to side, watching her closely.
She walks up to the railing, leaning on it beside the bird.
Warden looks at her hand, cawing for her to bring it closer, so she does. He pecks at the seeds, filtering through them to find his favourite ones.
"You've been out watching again, see anything interesting?" She asks, but the bird gives her no response.
He'd earned his name, always perched on the roof facing the village. That was a trait he'd learned from the raven the couple suspected was his father, who was aptly named Sentinel.
They had seen many a generation of various corvids, the crows being by far the most common.
Their bond with the birds started when they moved into the manor, the previous lord telling them the crows would be their closest family.
That remains true despite hundreds of years having passed, the crows were always around. That's why they're the house symbol.
Once Warden has had his fill of the seeds Tango passes the bird the envelope.
The raven takes it in his beak, understanding his role.
"They said they are staying at the inn North of the village." Tango says. Warden bows his head in response, hopping down from the railing to be further into the shelter.
They are clever birds, and Warden knows not to fly with paper in the rain.
She scatters the rest of the seed in her hand for the crows, turning to look out over the village.
It's hard to make out in the rain, she can only make out the shadow of the buildings.
Tango wraps his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder.
"I don't want to lose our home," she whispers, leaning back into him.
"I know," Tango replies, voice muffled, "but we're running out of options."
She knows he's right, they've tried as much as they can.
The sheriff has too.
"What else can we do, Tango?" Her voice is soft and full of sorrow.
She feels him raise his head, presumably to look out over the village as well.
"We can hope," he says, "we hope that someone comes along and takes care of it."
She bites her lip gently, careful not to catch it on her fang.
"What if no one does?"
The silence is almost too much to bear as Tango thinks of a response.
It's a tough question, one neither of them have dared to ask up until now.
Four hundred years of history in their home, all at stake.
Tango softly turns her around to face him, his blood red eyes meeting hers.
He takes her hand in his, playing with the wedding ring that has sat on her finger for over three centuries.
"If worst comes to worst and the corruption threatens our home we will have to leave. If it comes to that I'll find us somewhere just as quiet, and we will make a new home. But, I swear to you, no matter what, no matter how long it takes or how far we go, I will find a way to stop the corruption."
His words are reassuring, although she can't help but still feel sad.
A part of her will potentially be lost forever, no other home will be the same.
This is the home they built their life in, and no matter what it will hurt to leave it behind.
But, his determination makes her feel seen, heard.
Still, he seems to decide what he has said isn't enough, adding one final thing.
"I'll turn the world upside down if it means I get to see you smile again."