“Every failure makes you stronger” he repeated to himself as he bled on a sidewalk “every defeat strengthen you.”  It was supposed to be an easy job, he had to receive an item from a person. Unfortunately, he found himself surrounded by three people and without the item. A few blasts, a few broken ribs and the last run away. Little did he understood that if he didn’t run away he could have killed him. His torso was cut, his jaw half-broken and he didn’t hear from one ear. The situation was bad. He walked with one leg, using a mace as a walking pool. Very slowly he reached a phone, one of the few public phones, and called support.


    Once he got back to the hospital he realized how dangerous the situation had been. One of the blows had cracked the inner shell of the torso. The inner core could have been damaged. His prosthetics could have stopped working all of a sudden. The doctors, paid by the inquisition, healed his wound and adjusted the prosthetics as best as they could.


    When he got back to work he saw a new person standing in the library. He had a strange hat and a long rifle on his back, he was busy making bullets and adjusting his pistol.


    <


    > the man said


    <<Yes?>>


    <<I am Sir inquisitor Renes, I will be your working companion for a few mission. This until we don’t find a way to overcome your…>>This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    <<Disability?>>


    <<Yes. Last mission got the inquisition to worry about your state.>>


    <<Aren’t we suppose to disposable?>>


    <<Disposable? Us?>> the man nearly laughed <<we might be cogs but we are precious cogs. For them is better to lose ten soldiers than an inquisitor. Being an inquisitor is more of a question of character and determination than a question of training>>


    Pxan nodded, not understanding the full implication of this phrase.


    <<How were do we begin?>>


    There was a new mission that needed to be accomplished. They needed to speak to a little girl and see if she remembered anything about a certain cultist. Nothing easy.


    The two of them begun to walk on the sidewalk silently. After nearly a quarter of an hour, Pxan was the first to spoke up <<So about that Sir?>>


    <<Don’t worry Pxan, you don’t have to talk to me. I don’t like talking to people.>>


    Pxan looked down unsure of what to say.


    << Where that sir comes from?>> Pxan asked curious


    <<An old tradition. We are supposed to be nobles or something. Doesn’t really matter now. Nor that it mattered in the past. What matters is how a man behaves and do. Not a title and his blood. For example, y->> he stopped half phrase << wrong example. For example captain Ides, he was a scavenger.>>


    <<Ides was what?>>


    <<Yes. He joined the inquisition when he was thirty-four, climbed pretty quickly the ladder. Was the only one capable of managing a district with that discipline.>>


    <<Were he learned that?>>


    <<No idea. No idea.>>