((While I realise that this post is long and rambling, I also realise that there was too little said throughout the thread to construct a satisfying conclusion from, and ended up on a sort of tangent. I hope its not too bad though 
EDIT- I know you told me never to edit my posts, however, somehow I managed to not copy a small yet important section into the post from the word processor, so, sorry for that.
))“Please, let me go! I’ve done nothing wrong!” Abella’s voice rung painfully in Geddoe’s ears, full of panic and desperation. Her face was barely recognisable to him as they shared one last glance before she broke free from the hand on her shoulder and fled into the darkness in the opposite direction from which the pair had come from, the sound of heavy boots following her, a stampede of thundering steps rattling and echoing all around.
“Abella!” He called after her, but to no avail, only the looming cathedral’s aging walls and the ears of shadowy figures now forming a perimeter around him received his cry. Geddoe was held in a desperate panic, invisible hands kept him motionless, paralysed by confusion and terror. His pupils dilated, and sweat erupted from every pore.
Unable to control himself, his hands began shaking violently, and a single salty tear ran down his pale face and dripped from his bearded chin, landing between his trembling legs in silent defeat.
The encroaching crowd were now close enough to be clearly visible, their robed bodies forming an impregnable circle all around him, in each of their gloved hand was held a sickeningly curved dagger. Completely cloaked in identical black robes, peaked hoods casting shadows across their facial features, the crowd stood silently imprisoning him for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally one of them took two steps towards Geddoe breaking ranks with the others and lowing a gaze to him.
“Number 00-45-13-37.” Came a woman’s voice, although it was impossible to make out the lips that called out this string of numbers, which meant nothing to Geddoe.
“Codename- Geddoe.” The voice again boomed, silencing the once howling wind, leaving only the captive’s pained breaths to pierce the silence.
“For the transgressions of disserting the order, showing your unmasked face in a public place, and…” She paused for a moment, allowing the tension to fill every available space in the street. “For the theft of the personal property of your lord, specifically the children chosen to lead our mighty order in the event of the death of The Master, you are herby sentenced to death.”
With this the shrouded woman returned to the crowd, becoming invisible in the sea of identical bodies.
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!” Blasted Geddoe, now on his knees. Screaming through a veil of tears.
Seemingly unfazed by this outburst, another broke forward from the circle slowly taking two steps, placing themselves directly in front of Geddoe.
"Geddoe, I understand that you do not remember your oath, so I shall remind you of the relevent section which you seemed to forget even before your unfortunate accident. You see, when you swore your oath to me, you relinquished control of your property, it seems to me that you did not realise that, this includes family. You see, your children hold within them a mighty power, laying dormant like a sleeping dragon. I saw this power, and I know that this power is required to lead our mighty order when I am no longer of this world. Living as your sons, would be two magnificent lives wasted. Goodbye Geddoe we shall not meet again."
The hooded man who had now finished speaking turned on his heels and slowly walked away, the gravel beneath his feet crumbling as if under immense force. He merely brushed shoulders with his subjects as he did so. His path led him in the direction that Abella had fled in earlier, and he too was soon engulfed in the shadows.
The third and final figure to emerge from behind the sea of bodies was a good deal shorter than the rest. Dressed all in black, glistening dagger in hand, he strode silently, closer to Geddoe than the others had come. Close enough that his young face became defined in the cool glow of the moon.
His throat too constricted with fear to speak, Geddoe could only stare into what seemed like his own eyes, a face so hauntingly similar to his own.
Geddoe remained in silent resignation, as the steady, black-gloved hand of his own son raised a blade and thrust it into his chest.