《There's a Crack in the Void》 Part I The consecrated steel did not meet its target. Before my very eyes, my father, my champion, my general, failed as the heretic¡¯s blade sliced into his armor. The man stumbled, age and iron driving his knees into the mud. The first rule of knight was to never relinquish your blade¡­ and yet his fingers failed. The blade fell, drowning in the muck. The heretic stood behind him, and demanded that the man surrender. That his trial be ratified, as per the law of my order. His eyes turned to me, his blade lowering to the man¡¯s neck. I, as the Commander of my Order, raised my hand and pronounced the Trial of Blade sanctified. ¡°As the Goddess wills it,¡± my lips pursed about each phoneme, the poison on my tongue evident with each hiss. As the Goddess wills it? How could the Goddess will such a thing? The heretic pulled his blade away, sheathing it as the rain began to drop again. He took a moment to scan the faces of the paladins that surrounded him¡­ before he leaned down, and whispered something in my father¡¯s ear. His eyes widened, his body lurching, his fingers scrambling for his sword, only for his body to sag. A cry swelled in my throat as the great General fell, his men charging forward to support him. I leaped forth with a very different intent. I did not even realize I had charged, not till my snarl reached my gaze, and the heretic¡¯s lapel was in my hands. I had hefted the man clear of the muck, his shoes dangling as the rain set in. The man¡¯s lips had not moved into the smile of victory I had come to recognize as the self-assured ego of one who abandoned both faith and humanity. ¡°You¡¯re no different from him,¡± he hissed. ¡°You plan on sullying her name?¡± Whatever else he had to say, it was lost as a crack of thunder resonated through the keep. The heretic had managed to reach the inner halls of the Holy Eye, the center of all the Faithful. Solasta, the ever watchful light, had been blinded by a thick blanket of clouds. No wonder she had allowed the cretin in my arms to win a holy trial. But just hearing those first words roused within me my honor, my code. I released the heretic, and ordered my retainers to see him to a proper room for the evening. He had earned his freedom, and the right to a medical examination. In the morn, he would finally be set free, and we would be rid of his menace. From the state my father was in, it was clear that I would have to say his name. ¡°Halt,¡± I turned to face the man as he was lead away, the rain starting to sluice down his features. ¡°What did you say your name was?¡± ¡°Henri,¡± the mercenary replied. ¡°No last name.¡± ¡°I cannot commute your sentence without a family name,¡± my stern gaze held upon him. Henri- a famous name amongst the heretical brand. Named after Henri Sussel, the first Summoner who acknowledged the Goddess¡¯ truth, and through his faith, earned the first pardon a heretic had ever received. Despite the mercy he was shown, however, his descendents revealed the inherent evils of magic, forcing the Order of the Sun to properly purge them once and for all- the Crusade my father had taken upon and fulfilled in the name of Her Grace. I could already tell what the punchline would be to his foul joke¡­ but he had the mercy to not give voice to it. The spite in my gaze must have been enough to ward off his tart response as he started to trudge through the mud. ¡ª- ¡°Starlit Mother,¡± my voice echoed through the pews, the thundering cascade of rain echoing through the empty hall. Before me stood a monument to the Goddess in all her glory. Marbled wreathed with veins of gold from the base of craft, the stone manipulated and lovingly carved into a flowing robe of starlit night. Her visage was crowned with a radiating circle of gold. This was the Goddess Solasta in her most glorious. ¡°Forgive my¡­ discomforting words,¡± I took a moment to ensure I was alone with her. I was alone¡­ with my faith. ¡°But my father lays ill, bested by a man accused of grave crimes against you and your faithful. He accused my Order of¡­ profanity and yet¡­ beneath your gaze, his blade stayed true¡­ while my father¡¯s¡­¡± I dared not give voice to the fears of my heart. Though I had only known him but a scant twenty years of my life, he was the man I looked up to. The man who guided me. To admit his age had finally come to claim him¡­ he had yet to see my rise to my heights. My debt to him was too great to abandon here. ¡°Please¡­ see him through this. I ask for nothing more than the grace of your mercy.¡± The rain was all that met my ears. Each drop resounded through the hall, as I waited to hear from her. Waiting for my sincerity to be rewarded. My eyes were closed as I repeated the prayer I had memorized throughout my childhood. A hymn of mercy and patience. A promise of faith, no matter what tide may come. When I next opened my eyes, I became aware that I was not alone. The man that sat upon a pew not far behind me was dressed ornately, his hat massive upon his head. He smiled gently, and nodded. He had patience enough for me to finish my prayer. I still rose from my kneel. My knees were sore, my knuckles creased from the fervent prayer I offered. ¡°Father Magimus,¡± I offered a bow, but the man raised his hand. ¡°Think nothing of it, Meredith,¡± the man¡¯s voice soothed my hasty response to his appearance. His lips were still curled in that comforting smile of his. ¡°I can tell a great deal weighs upon you.¡± ¡°Yes¡­ Father, the General, he¡­¡± I started, my tongue starting and stopping in my mouth, blood pumping through my head as I struggled to correct myself¡­ but the man stood from his seat, and placed a comforting hand upon my shoulder. ¡°Relax, dear. Just breathe. The Goddess would not leave her most ardent of followers bereft of her light,¡± the man insisted¡­ before pausing. ¡°Though, it does surprise me to find you here, rather than by your father¡¯s side.¡± ¡°The healers¡­ dismissed me. Ordered me to find some solace and comfort in their efforts, and rest¡­ while I can.¡± ¡°Ah¡­ I see,¡± the man paused¡­ before striding past me. ¡°Your father¡­ he is a dear friend of mine,¡± his voice grew faint, almost tinged with an ounce of regret. ¡°He would probably not say the same of me,¡± he turned with a lighter smile, and deadpan conjecture. ¡°But he thought the world of you. Trusted you with everything he knew,¡± the man stepped up to the statue, and placed a genteel hand upon the Goddess¡¯ worn feet. Congregants often showed their respect by placing their hands upon her toes- a deferential sign of great respect. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say that¡­ I had not done the same,¡± the man insisted. ¡°But I saw the way you composed yourself after that duel¡­ You are shaping up to be someone worthy of that trust. I¡¯m sorry I had not seen it till now. I think you¡¯re ready. Come with me,¡± he gestured. As he did, a loud click echoed through the hall. The statue before me began to turn, her body spinning and rising to reveal a well beneath her. I stood there, stunned as the dias rose, arches forming door way, and unveiling the steps below. ¡°The key to your father¡¯s survival¡­ I have something just for him. But I will need a hand,¡± the aging Father held out his hand. ¡°My knees just aren¡¯t what they used to be.¡± ¡ª Our long descent in the depths below was only interrupted by the man¡¯s anecdotes about the past. ¡°Time was, we had a platform that would rise and fall. Alas, the magic we used to raise¡­ faded with time. I never truly appreciated it¡­ till now,¡± the man chuckled as he shambled down the stairs, one hand placed upon my forearm for support. We were close to the end now, at least given the light. ¡°Ah, we¡¯re here,¡± the Father stepped upon the floor at the base of the pit. If I had to venture a guess, we were at the deepest depths of the Eye, past even the dungeons we caged the Heretics in. A massive stone door stood before me. Too large for any man, any beast I had fought in the name of the Inquisition. Summoned monsters- the Heretics used their rituals to chain, bind and pervert the nature of the world¡¯s beast to meet their unholy ends. I had cleaved through many a creature bound in their chains, each almost thankful to be released from their hellish bonding. The man raised his hand, before turning to me. ¡°With me Meredith. The prayer works best with a duet.¡± I stepped up, my heart hammering against my chest, and placed my hand across from his, a door resting beneath each of our palms. The man began to recite psalm, one that my tongue began to recite, slowly adjusting my tone and tenor to match his¡­ for a moment, I was twelve again, doing my recitations in his study¡­ back when my father was convinced that I would make a serviceable nun, maybe even an Abbess. He had not known my passion for the blade, though he knew of my keen interest. I had chosen a path that defied him, and yet I wished to show him all I could achieve. This was the life the goddess had afforded me after all, and I could not help but wish to see that was more than worthy of her grace and his name. As we hit the prayer at the end of it, the door began to part, stone grinding against stone as I was given a chance to see what lay within. Light flooded my vision, at first blinding before slowly ebbing away, giving way to volume, then shape, then color¡­ before me hung a woman, her hair aglow, but her hands and feet nailed by massive golden spikes, and her body chained in thick black iron. The tools¡­ of the heretics were being used to bind this woman to a massive column. The light that caressed my skin was golden, light. That ache in my ankle seemed to fade away, my armor felt¡­ lighter. A myth came to mind¡­ a story heretics would whisper of. Of the goddess when she walked beside her faithful, more a guide than a goddess. A twisted, heretical interpretation of the shepherd of all light¡­ yet seeing this woman there, her skin bared and bitten by chains of night, a thick black blindfold bound tight about her eyes¡­ Was there¡­ a hint of truth to it all? The Father smiled, striding forward. ¡°Come now Meredith. We must take what we can. Your father has spent too long without her- he¡¯ll need more of her to properly regain his strength. ¡°... What?¡± the word slipped from my lips, as the man huffed and puffed his way to the¡­ captured woman. My legs began to stiffen as I made to follow the man, the shadows of my doubt sharper into the face of such brilliant light. The man did not immediately answer. He approached her, the glint of glass teasing my eye as he raised a vial beneath her toes¡­ and he twisted the stake that pinned her ankles to the column. Her scream tore at me, a fear setting in as her blood began to flow from her wound. It was red, but far too red to be called blood. It shimmered, as if it were a liquid of jewels, all flowing down her feet and into the vial. I felt my stomach constrict. My dinner had been light, yet still it threatened to escape. ¡°S-STOP!¡± I felt the command tear through my throat as the man finished his foul ritual, lifting the vial and shaking it beneath the light the woman¡¯s glowing hair provided. ¡°I-It can¡¯t be¡­¡± I felt the doubt rouse from my lips. ¡°Of course it¡¯s not her,¡± the Father said, still sounding patient, still gentle. ¡°Our Goddess would take on so simple form, would she?¡± the man pulled out another vial. ¡°Come child, get the one in her wrists.¡± He sounded so distant¡­ yet I was standing just behind him now. ¡°Then¡­ what is she?¡± I asked. ¡°A gift. From the heavens. A holy maiden,¡± the man insisted, not turning to face me. As if he had told this lie before. As if he had conned¡­ ¡°How many have¡­ been here¡­. Has father been here?¡± I trembled, the doubt beginning to gnaw at me. All I learned, all I believed¡­ all the lies I had consumed¡­ ¡°Of course he has¡­ he needed the strength to perform his duty¡­ just as you do,¡± the man turned, the vial in his hand bright as ruby¡­ ¡°The goddess¡¯ light burns bright within our souls¡­ but our bodies can barely keep up. With this, we can truly embrace our duties to her,¡± he pressed the vial into my hands. ¡°Drink it sparingly, and only moments of true desperation,¡± he cautioned me, as if advising a patient on when to take her medicine. The sickening proposition gnawed at me from within as he began to fill the next. ¡°Our Goddess¡¯s light shines brightest in the darkest of moments after all-¡± Before he could finish his statement, the air sizzled. The hairs at the back of my neck rose. I recognized that sound¡­ the sound of portal opening. A Heretic! I twisted my head about to the door, only to find the heretic standing there¡­ and by his side, leaning upon a crutch¡­ my father. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡ª ¡°MEREDITH!¡± the General¡¯s voice called across the catacomb. ¡°GET AWAY!¡± My muscles moved to obey, though my mind was a mess. I did not see a beast- instead the Father¡¯s shoulder shattered, as if cleaved by a massive blade. His blood splattered upon the dias, accentuating just how different the woman¡¯s blood was from that of an ordinary man¡¯s. His scream felt almost pitiful compared to the bound woman¡¯s, like a babe with freshly soiled linens. I am completely serious about the jumbled mess of thoughts my mind was crammed with. My father¡¯s hobbled lurch towards me was outpaced, however, as the Heretic stood between us. ¡°Out of the way Su-¡± ¡°Hold there,¡± the heretic¡¯s voice echoed, a poison in his own tongue that matched mine just a morning ago. ¡°Who do you serve?¡± ¡°She¡¯s never had a drop of Solasta¡¯s bloo-¡± ¡°What¡¯s she holding then?¡± His eyes were cast down, settling upon my hand. I only then realized what I had gripped in my desperation for understanding- the vial full of ruby-red blood. I raised it up to my eyes, before my vision began to swim. At first I thought I had been struck from behind¡­ but then first trace of liquid arched down my cheek. ¡°Dad¡­¡± I said, the word strangling in my throat, the void in my stomach starting to swallow me whole. Before my knees buckled, my Father rushed forward, his hands wrapping about me. ¡°Forgive me child¡­ forgive me¡­ I¡­¡± he held me close, balancing against me as his crutched toppled aside. ¡°I couldn¡¯t bear it¡­ the thought of you knowing¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s not her¡­ it can¡¯t be her¡­¡± my fears burst forth, begging the man to comfort me, to swaddle me once more. But the man could not offer such comfort. I was far too large for him anyways. I opened my eyes to find the heretic standing there, unable to take his eyes away from the scene. When he did, his body lurched forward towards the body that was bound upon the pillar. But he was too late. As I turned back, I realized that the Father had not been properly killed. Instead with a surge of strength he grasped the woman¡¯s thigh and bit in. His jaws seized down, the woman¡¯s scream tearing through my sanity again as he tore through a chunk of her flesh in ravenous desperation. ¡ª-- ¡°Take this,¡± the heretic¡¯s voice cut through the horror. He held in his hands a blade. A knife, likely the one he used in his duel. ¡°Now,¡± he insisted, pressing it into my free hand, the warm vial still clenched in my other. His gaze turned back to the wretch Father as he turned, chin dripping with the ruby red blood. ¡°Heretic. I see the Inquisition¡¯s let you loose after all,¡± he spoke¡­ despite his shattered arm. Before my eyes, a miracle began to partake, and yet I could not feel the grace of the Goddess in any of his movements. His back straightened, the wrinkles of time slowly unwinding into unblemish flesh. His hair began to grow full and bright, as his muscles began to swell. The cut that should have killed him began to heal, sinew knitting and winding as he recovered. And despite the obvious discomfort the transformation should have caused him, the man seemed quiet¡­ assured. Confident and yet still faithful. ¡°A shame, but an expected one.¡± ¡°I won by their rules. And they are nothing if not¡­ dogmatic,¡± the heretic answered him. ¡°And General? What brings you here? You swore you would never seek the Goddess¡¯ Guidance again,¡± the revivified Father turned to my own. I stood straight as I felt the man lean against me, acting as his crutch. ¡°The heretic reminded me of a certain clan,¡± my father adjusted himself. ¡°Yes¡­ the Sussel line,¡± the Father¡¯s eyes turned to me. ¡°Hair red as rust. Eyes dark as a starless void. How fortunate you are- she did not inherit a drop of their fetid blood.¡± My eyes turned to the heretic. His hair was indeed red, but his eyes were a shade lighter than the Sussels I had¡­ butchering the past. But by the time my thoughts turned back to his words, I realized my father¡¯s fist had turned white with his rage, his muscles tensing. ¡°In¡­herit?¡± ¡°Meredith, I¡­¡± ¡°Not now you two,¡± the heretic cut in. ¡°What, afraid you¡¯re not the last?¡± Magimus scoffed at the Heretic¡¯s interjection. ¡°Afraid your wretched bloodline will continue on, even after we¡¯re finished here? Afraid that more children will be born with skills like yours and suffer the consequences?¡± The heretic took a steadying breath, but he did not answer. Only now did I realize he was unarmed. Instead I heard the sizzle of air once again- a portal was opening. I turned, eyes dancing about, instinct taking over as I expected a beast to pounce us from somewhere, anywhere. Magimus tensed, his muscles taut and ready to strike, his own eyes darting left and right, expecting a beast to strike from the deep shadows the columns behind us cast. Instead, the chain behind him snapped, the night black links splintered and shattered. ¡ª The goddess¡¯ body slumped as the chains clattered upon the ground, the Father twisting back to ensure his¡­ prize was still there. The very thought sickened me, but seeing her form dangling there, held only by the spikes in her wrist and ankles roused that bile far faster than knowing that her flesh was the source of Magimus¡¯ power¡­ and power of¡­ ¡°Run. Merry, run,¡± my father¡¯s voice echoed in my ears. With a roar, the man charged forward, first to grab his discarded crutch, and then to strike the man. A scream echoed in my ears as I tried to reach after him, only for my legs to stumble. My balance was failing me. The very floor itself felt wet, fluid, as if sucking upon my heels as I stumbled back. The heretic did not seem as phased. He charged after my father, intercepting Magimus¡¯ strike by gripping the man¡¯s arm and pulling him back. As they scuffled, I held my knife, still struggling to piece together the madness of it all. Magimus¡¯ body twisted and turned, his lack of experience in combat evident in how easily my father¡¯s crutch kept his legs from balancing properly. I knew of the heretic¡¯s skill personally. I tried to will my legs to move back¡­ but¡­ then my eyes turned to the Goddess of the Sun. Dangling there. Half alive, if life held any meaning for a creature like her. When I compelled myself forward, it was a far easier ordeal. As the three wrestled, Magimus still unadjusted to having a body that actually¡­ moved properly, I found myself slinking along in the shadows, every fiber of my honor withering at the thought of such¡­ subterfuge. But there was a life at stake, and I could not risk the eyes of Magimus falling upon us. As I pressed my back against the column, I had to force my eyes from closing completely, the locks of bright light preventing me from seeing anything further. I reached out, pressing my hand against where I thought her arm was meant to. What I felt in my hands was no arm. No, it was naught but bone. Her muscles were but dust, veins little more than dried capillaries. The sensations in my stomach returned, but I kept my focus on the task at hand. That was where my strengths lay. My other hand stretched up, fingers angling, reaching for a certain handle. The spike was warm to the touch, my digits gripping on, as I whispered into the goddess¡¯ ear, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± And then I pulled. My whole body twisted into the effort as I drew all my weight into the act. But the goddess¡¯ scream¡­ did not reach my ear. I could not see her face, but I could feel what muscles she had stretching as she thrashed in pain. ¡°Please,¡± I whispered, ¡°hold on, I almost have you,¡± I insist. Unable to think of anything better, swung my leg about the column, and postured myself over, straddling her writhing form as I pulled with all my strength. It was only then that it loose. The withered form collapsed against me as the spike came loose, her hands dangling free as I fell back. My back hit the dias, as the goddess fell atop me, her withered form as light as a few stones, as I turned to find all the combatants staring back at us. ¡ª- Her body lay upon mine. Her breaths were desperate, rasping, a desperate wheeze escaping from with each exhalation. But from behind me, I could hear a cry of rage. ¡°UNHAND HER HEATHEN!¡± Magimus¡¯ voice echoed in my head, but my arms clung to her nonetheless. A part of me wondered how I could have considered her to be so divine with her form so frail. With my eyes shut, I could feel it- the dim flicker of light that still lay within her. ¡°It¡¯s ok,¡± my voice echoed with the words I wished I could be graced with. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± I said again, as if she were a victim of a heretic. Perhaps she was. Perhaps I was as well. But blind to the fight behind him, I had no choice but to continue my struggle. I picked myself, the Goddess¡¯ voice a dry rasp, as if she were trying to echo my words. The content of her speech mattered little now- clasping my hands around her, I began to push her back against the column, hands groping in the dark of my lids, reaching down for the last stake. ¡°She will not be lost beneath my office!¡± came Magimus¡¯ voice once again, but that high pitch ringing hit my ear again. I tensed my hand about her leg as I felt some hot and warm splay across my back. It teased down my shirt, a thick ichor that sluiced down my hair¡­ but I forced it out of my mind. I had a duty to complete. My hands gripped the stake that pinned her to the column, my feet planting into the base and leveraging my weight. The screams behind me grew fiercer and fiercer, the battle likely going poorly as I heard my dad bark an order. None of it mattered. I had a duty to fulfill. The stake began to move. I redoubled my efforts, tugging, pulling straining, the goddess¡¯ own ichor loosening my grip as I strained to undo this curse laid upon her. ¡°Just a bit more,¡± I begged of her. ¡°Just wait a moment¡­ longer¡­¡± I was thrown back as it finally came loose, the goddess falling upon me as I scrambled to catch her. The stake still gripped in my hand, I tried to pull her aside, only to feel a hand grip my shirt. I steeled myself for a moment, raising the stake, ready to strike. I allowed my eyes to part, if just for a moment. The man holding me was my father. ¡°Dad?¡± I mumbled, before he hefted us both high and through us far from the battle as he could- an impressive feat, considering my height and his beleaguered state. My eyes were open now, but before I could say a word, I felt another hand grip me. This grip lacked the strength of my father, and if so, that made it impossible for it to be Magimus. This was the heretic. His pull was incessant, urgent by lacking in physical strength. How could he have beaten my father? ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± his words were terse. Right¡­ a duty to fulfill. I turned back to Magimus¡­ or what I believed to be him. It seemed¡­ wrong. Distorted. Like he had the shape of a human, but something had gone awry. His muscles were too¡­ oblique. His form too perfect. And his eyes had turned from their familiar chocolate brown to piercing violent shade of blue, pulsing with an electric might. ¡°You WILL stop,¡± his voice growled, reverberating with a tone I once associated with the divine. Light began to warp around him, forming wings of crystalline shards as he rose above us. ¡°It is by my will the divine still persists amongst us.¡± ¡°Move!¡± the Heretic pulled me back, away from the astonishing sight. The golden mane of the man I barely understood now formed, long and smooth with an inhuman sheen as I was pulled into the pit. The Goddess¡¯ hair shimmered with a dulled light now, a welcome change from the harsh tone that had assaulted my senses before. I turned to the stairs, only for the Heretic to push me towards the center of the basin. ¡°Stay,¡± was his next command, as if he were speaking with a dog. He bent and laid his hand upon the floor, the whole well quivering as a magic pulsed through the bricks. As the doors of the underground vault screeched close, locking our enemy in, I looked around and realized, with a quiver of horror¡­ ¡°Where¡¯s my father?¡± ¡ª ¡°LET ME BACK DOWN!¡± ¡°NO.¡± ¡°YOU LEFT HIM DOWN THERE!¡± I stood over the Heretic as we continued to rise, his hands planted upon the floor. If I wished it, he could have died right there and then. His neck was weak, vulnerable. If I killed him now, perhaps I could jump to the stairs and run back down. I could make it back in time- The doors beneath us shuddered, the violent jolt echoing through the towering stairwell. My eyes turned to the goddess. Her form looked sunken as it was now- the glow of hair dimmed without the stakes pinning her in place. I took a look at the one I had carried with me in the madness of it all. Blood still stained, yet it still glow hot in my hand. ¡°Sunstone,¡± the heretic said, unbidden. ¡°They likely have a whole supply down there, to ensure her grace didn¡¯t run out of holiness to share,¡± he all but spat the words out. ¡°You¡­ knew?¡± ¡°That the Goddess was down there? I knew she was here¡­ but I did not expect Magimus to be that¡­ insane,¡± the Heretic sighed. The magic that was giving our party rise began to slow, his eyes starting to glance about. ¡°Soon as we reached the top, get her out of here. At least get her in sunlight¡­ she¡¯ll¡­ have a chance then.¡± ¡°A chance for¡­ what?¡± ¡°Survival, in her sense of the word.¡± My curiosity was struck by the¡­ familiarity in his tone of voice. As if he understood something about the goddess in my arms that I, her most ardent servant, failed to comprehend. ¡°What are you?¡± I asked him, hoping to cut through his mysteries. ¡°What, you didn¡¯t hear your dear Father back there? I¡¯m a Summoner. A Sussel.¡± ¡°Funny, I didn¡¯t see you summon a single thing.¡± ¡°Yeah, well¡­ hard for someone of my lineage to form a contract these days.¡± ¡°Yet you were able to injure a man drunk upon Holy Flesh.¡± ¡°That was just a bit of creative spellcasting, Inquisitor,¡± the Heretic said with a wry little chuckle. As I looked down upon him, I realized I had never seen him¡­ properly before. Despite the scars and the wrinkles, like this, so vulnerable and exposed, he seemed to be a man just a bit older than myself. I hefted the goddess in my arms, as I saw the arch of our exit above us. ¡°Don¡¯t look her directly in the eyes.¡± ¡°What?¡± I turned to him just as the well shook again, and a crushing crunch reverberated from the well beneath us. ¡°SUSSELLLLLLL!!!!¡± a horrifying screech echoed from beneath us, its shrill scraping against my very bones. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s me,¡± the Heretic¡¯s smile did not lessen. ¡°Best go while he¡¯s occupied.¡± He did not need to say it- I had already jumped from the platform. He shook his head as he hopped off¡­ and with a whistle, the platform started sailing down into the abyss. ¡ª The first rays of the morning had began to paint the Holy Eye in gold, as so many fine mornings began. However, on this morn, I had already worn myself thin. Night had passed me by in a thrice as the battle unfurled, and I had yet to stop running. I could no longer hear Maginus, but I could not rule out the possibility that my father and my¡­ no, he was still a Heretic. A blaspheming, magic wielding beast in man form, willing to sacrifice children to support his corrupt ambitions¡­ right? I did not bother with mustering the paladins beneath my command. They would not understand, or I simply lacked the ability to explain. I certainly could not best Magimus in a contest of words. If I had my consecrated blade, perhaps it would serve me well.. .but I had no time to grab it. Not when my Goddess lay in my hands. As I charged through the halls, my eyes scanned the courtyard¡­ a bale cart was already beginning to depart. My eyes quickly cast between the cart and the nearest rampart, the wind whistling in my ears as I took several steadying breaths. It was time for a leap of faith. The farmer departing with his cart of hay, the muddied reeds of the stable teasing his nose, heard something thunk behind him. What he found as he turned was a woman, fierce, blond, and armed. She pressed something against his throat, something that gleamed with a warm light. ¡°Drive,¡± she ordered him, her authority quivering through every fiber of his being. ¡°Get as far away from here as you can.¡± She paused a moment¡­ the farmer¡¯s eyes turning to the frail girl in her arms. ¡°Please,¡± she added after a moment¡¯s hesitation. His eyes widened, perhaps in understanding, as he mushed his mule to quicken its steps. When he turned back to face her, the woman had already collapsed into the hay, a forced peace set upon her. He chose the path least guarded, lest she be roused. ¡ª- When my eyes next parted, the sun was burning upon my skin. The hay that clone to my skin had warmed beneath its radiance and fallen away. My eyes turned to the fragile creature that was supposedly my Goddess. In absence of the dark, her blond hair has lost its divine luster. I could see her now, draped in a makeshift cloth blanket, her body bandaged, and breathing settled. I turned to our host, grateful for his aid. But the farmer simply focused upon his task, driving his mule further and further from the Holy Eye. I could imagine it now- the furor that was roused in the wake of battle. The knights would likely awake to a set of harsh, violent orders. I would probably be branded a heretic, and he would have me captured alive. I closed my eyes and awaited the sounds of the bell, the Paladins of the Sun summoned by an alarm. Perhaps it was on the wind. I could not tell. I shuffled my way to the form of the goddess. Her blindfold was still on, but when I gripped her arm¡­ it felt¡­ Alive. Power was pulsing through her again. Muscles slowly rebuilding. I began to pull the cover from her form, exposing her to more of the sun. The Heretic had been right- her body was beginning to radiate beneath the rays of her namesake. How did know? Why did he know? Would I ever know? Part II The farmer was shocked when he watched the spectre of the woman he had bandaged step down from his carriage on her own two legs. It probably seemed like a miracle to him, though his pointed away quite rapidly. We had stopped for a bit of water for the mule¡­ the sun rising to its mid-morning position. As I turned from the sun, to the man, the farmer¡¯s eyes were glued upon my charge. The Goddess had chosen to step into the cold waters of the river, opting to bathe herself. When had she last¡­ best not think of it. ¡°Is she a heretic?¡± the man asked me in a hushed tone. I paused a moment¡­ the irony not lost upon me, but still required a sense of serious contemplation. ¡°Not quite. Still, the Holy Eye will seek her. Thank you for taking us this far.¡± ¡°... I can take you a bit further¡­ no matter how much I help you, the Inquisitors will punish me just the same.¡± I stiffened at his errant response. I turned to him, a question on my lips and concern on my tongue. ¡°Surely if you tell them we threatened you¡­¡± ¡°Eh, crusaders¡­ even on suspicion, they¡¯ll burn you and you kind at the stake. Hand a heretic a lamb, they¡¯ll accuse you of supplying a sacrifice. Shelter a marked child, they¡¯ll cite you for trafficking. Once their holy eye is upon you, they¡¯ll lie, cheat, steal¡­ and they¡¯ll be praised for their ¡®diligence.¡¯¡± I know not what compelled the man to speak so brazenly with me about the matter. Perhaps he took comfort in knowing that I too was an enemy of the church. Why else would I be so eager to run from its auspices? ¡°Did they gouge her eyes out? I dared not peek,¡± the farmer continued to speak. ¡°Most of the other injuries I saw were¡­ well, outdated is a term.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°The stake- its sunstone. Old Inquisitor tactic- they¡¯d nail a heretic to a pillar, and let the stone burn through the victim¡¯s hands. Haven¡¯t seen it for¡­ two decades at the least.¡± Despite the sun, I could feel a chill set in. ¡°Miracle she made it this far.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ she¡¯s a bit¡­ blessed in that sense.¡± The Goddess turned to me as she heard my voice. She smiled, splashing her hands in the water. Even from this distance I could see the burn marks in her hand¡­ but they were whole in spite of that. My brow furrowed, but after her arms started flapping wildly, I had no choice but to voice my response. ¡°Yeah, I see you!¡± I announced my continuing presence. ¡°Do you know where you¡¯re going?¡± That question gave me pause. The only instructions in my head had been born of confusion and panic. With the distance between myself and the Eye, I could afford to actually think my actions through. My mind began to work through its cobwebs, as the Goddess cleansed herself in the river water. My parentage could wait. My mourning could be delayed. My thoughts now focused upon one central conceit- the fact that the more time I gave him, the more powerful my enemy would grow. I turned back to the goddess. My fears could be abated a while longer¡­ For Inquisitors had a duty. ¡°There¡¯s a heretic to purge,¡± I said, my voice finally dropping to a growl that felt¡­ familiar in my throat. ¡ª To become an Inquisitor of the Sun, one had to take several oaths. First, to serve the Goddess above all. Second, to serve her faithful. Third, to bring light to the shadows. This was the code of Ethics that bound our order. But that simply served as the qualifications to earn the title- to survive as one, you need the cunning, resolve, and moral fiber to stay in good standing. I remembered the first time an Inquisitor went rogue beneath my watch as I dried my charge. The farmer had done us a great service in taking us beneath the sun, but I could not bear him to suffer the consequences of aiding us for the next sin we would commit upon the Eye. Her name had been Asha. Unlike most, she had been sun-kiss- her skin a shade darker than most of those who served the Goddess. I paid her little mind when she first joined. She was a pair of hands, useful with a blade, an adept shot. Over time she earned a good deal of trust within her cohort, till the day were given the order to purge a village worshipping a pagan god. The heretics in question had yet to commit a crime, but an Inquisitor¡¯s duty was not to question an Inquisition- simply to affirm it. It had been Asha who attempted to shirk her duty first. There were no bodies to attribute to this god. No sinful sacrifices, no sacrilegious effigies. Simply a mark in the homes of the heretics. Asha claimed that it was a monument to an elder god of some fashion- that its worship was ordinary and was deeply ingrained in the culture of the land. But our Commander at the time would not hear her- instead, he viewed it as a rejection of the true, proper path. Looking at Magimus now, I wonder how that Commander would view the twisted Celestial¡¯s actions. Would he see him under the same light? Or would he choose the self-serving path of supplication? I will never know. Asha slayed him before he could give the order to raze the village. Before the eyes of all her peers, she descended down the path of the Heretics, and was suitably punished for her sins. I remember her smile most, before the axe cleaved her. She was sinless¡­ blameless. Would I meet a similar end? Or would Magimus possess the same convocation when I drove my blade through his heart? ¡°Pu-tree?¡± a voice reverberated through me. I paused in my ruminations, and looked down. The Goddess peered back up at me, her head tilting to face my own. An errant part of me wished to remove her blindfold, to see what gaze she saw me in. Her language was foreign to my ears, but perhaps it was a variant of Sunscript. I could never speak the words, but reading was fine. Alas, this would not aid me with her eyes bound like this. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I tried my best to express how little I could understand her. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ speak your tongue.¡± Wait, her tongue? I reached up to her chin, and parted her mouth open. Her tongue had been repaired, but the scarring remained. I released her, feeling a sigh of relief pulse through my lungs. The sun truly had done wonders for her, just as the Heretic said. The Heretic¡­ I was less concerned with him than I was with my father. Even if he had been captured Magimus would have likely branded him a traitor, to be locked away for a proper ¡°inquisition.¡± Most were sham trials of course- how could one disprove that they held the wrong god in their hearts? But few were as skilled as my father in manipulating truth into lies¡­ perhaps his gift of gab would aid him there. I was a poor hand at such games, preferring to speak with a blade than my tongue. ¡°When do we go back?¡± a voice whispered in my mind. ¡ª-- I jolted, pulling my hands away from her soaked hair. The goddess looked to me, or at least¡­ she turned. Her mouth did not move, and yet¡­ I could hear her voice. ¡°Summoner? No¡­ Sussel. When do we return?¡± I raised my hand to her. ¡°Are you¡­ speaking with me?¡± I asked of her, uncertain of this strange¡­ sensation in my mind. ¡°Yes?¡± her head tilted. ¡°You have the Summoner¡¯s blood in you. It is not as strong as the last one.¡± She began to rise from the stump that served as her seat. ¡°But it is sufficient for me now,¡± the voice in my mind persisted. It tingled, it pulsed, like a sensation in the back of my mind, teasing at me with a constant whine. ¡°You were difficult to reach,¡± she commented, striding towards me. ¡°It was difficult to reach¡­ any of you.¡± Her hand graced my cheek. ¡°You were crying,¡± she echoed in my mind. Her thumb was wet- I had not even noticed I was letting my tears fall. Her other hand rose up and began to feel across my face. ¡°You would not answer me with words. Hence my intrusion. I apologize- I do not know your tongue.¡± ¡°Ironic,¡± a humor within me rose. An odd sentiment to have as I chuckled. ¡°Do you see all my thoughts?¡± I asked, keep her in mind. ¡°A mind is a dangerous thing,¡± she responded. ¡°I can only see what you convey with me in mind.¡± ¡°I¡¯m an Inquisitor. Your Grace is always on my mind.¡± A sound trumpeted from her throat. Followed by a harsh cough. Did she¡­ laugh? Was that a chuckle? Had her torture lasted so long that even a laugh was a foreign sensation to her throat? ¡°Forgive me. It was a joke in poor taste.¡± ¡°Are you doing this on purpose?¡± the goddess¡¯ wry smile was enough to communicate her intent to me. She gestured to her leg- I winced seeing the bite marks of a certain madman in Priest¡¯s clothing. ¡°No.¡± I wish she could see the pain in my face at the insinuation. ¡°But I think I better understand this¡­ connection. Are you¡­ did someone¡­ summon you to this world?¡± She nodded. ¡°The faithful needed guidance. I was their guide. In that sense I would be akin to your Goddess¡­ but as you can see, I do not possess the strength one would expect from such¡­ magnanimity.¡± ¡°What are you then?¡± ¡°An aspect of her. An avatar, if you will. A piece of her that was sent to this world to guide your race¡­¡± she paused, seemingly shrinking as she pulled away from me. ¡°But alas¡­ I seem to have failed.¡± I did not have words for her. All I could offer in comfort was a hand upon her back. ¡°We need to kill him. Excise him, like the tumor his faith has become.¡± 9kjThe sun began to die. A shadow passed over it. The mustered Paladins stumbled as the shine that accentuated their armor suddenly faded. Magimus¡¯ eyes turned upward as he felt the wind grow¡­ stale. ¡°It¡¯s just as you said!¡± stammered a priest by his side. ¡°The heretics¡­ they are claiming the sun!¡± It had not been his intent¡­ but it put his words into vivid, visual reality. The faithful were so easy to lead along. It was not easy, controlling himself. Keeping his body looking as old and decrepit it had been till he tasted the flesh of the goddess. But the Heretic was still there. He and his brand of magic were too messy an issue to leave unresolved, but he did not possess enough eyes to find him once he hid in his shadows and lies. Worse yet, by the time he erupted from the vault, the Inquisitor had taken the divine maiden and flown from the Eye. There were too many factors at play here. Too many little inconsistencies for him to simply reveal himself in all his glory. No, he had to play it smart, cautiously and carefully building their faith in him¡­ and diminishing their faith in her. First, she was branded a Heretic. Simple enough, all he needed to do was reveal her mother¡¯s name- Illania Sussel. That alone gave her the motive she needed to abandon the faith and betray his trust. He made a great show of it too. Even scarred his arm with her blade, just to show the depths her treachery. Then he had her father arrested. A little piece of bait. Magimus had not lied to her- no, they had been friends once. That friendship ended the moment his wife¡¯s family was purged- a loss Magimus could live with, and one he truly did believe Arthus could move on from. He never remarried, of course, but he had a daughter to protect. He turned his eyes to the blackened sun, its eclipse complete. How simple it all was¡­ just as her father would have fought to save her, now she too would be forced to save him. Like poetry, it all¡­ set itself in place. ¡ª Locked away in the darkest cell, furthest from the light of sun, General Leonis awoke with start. His muscles ached, his arm lay shattered. His legs was still attached, but it had been¡­ treated. His head throbbed and his throat was parched, and worst of all, he could no longer see. He groped the ground about him, twisting on his bed of straw, as he twisted about. A pair of hands landed upon him, pinning him to his bedding. ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± the now familiar voice of the Heretic graced his ear. The man¡¯s eyes snapped open, but his gaze was black and void. As he turned, however, he could see some dim light between the iron bars of his cell. ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°Imprisoned. Your daughter¡¯s accused of heresy,¡± the heretic¡¯s words were terse, as he continued to touch the man¡¯s joints. Sure enough, as he pinched the man¡¯s right elbow, the General hissed. ¡°She¡­ what?¡± the man gasped. ¡°She escaped right?¡± ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s got the goddess with her.¡± ¡°Knowing her, she¡¯ll be back¡­¡± ¡°The sun¡¯s gone out, for what it¡¯s worth.¡± ¡°What?¡± the man said, before the Heretic''s hand pinned his arm to the wood beneath the straw. The man¡¯s howl of pain seethed through clench teeth as a lamp was lit- like this he could see the boy¡¯s face, as he surveyed the damage to the general¡¯s arm. ¡°Still bleeding. Surprised he didn¡¯t order it amputated there and then¡­ Magimus¡¯ grown confident.¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°What do you mean the sun is gone?¡± ¡°Quite simply that- an eclipse has swallowed it whole. It¡¯s got a neat ring around it, but the sun¡¯s just a black void.¡± The general laid back upon his bed, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. As he did, the Heretic began to undo a bandage wrapped about his arm. He had seen it before- the Heretic¡¯s arm had always been wrapped in an unsullied bandage. As more of the boy¡¯s arm was revealed, the General¡¯s eyes were drawn to a bite mark on his arm. Teeth dug into his flesh, so deep that the scars were still there. ¡°Wolf bite,¡± the boy said, noticing what the general¡¯s eyes had latched onto. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the Father didn¡¯t bite me¡­ doubt he would, now that he has taste for the flesh of gods.¡± ¡°How old were you?¡± ¡°When the wolf bit me?¡± he responded as he tied the general¡¯s arm up in the cloth. Arcturus Leonis hissed as the heretic carelessly lifted his arm and tightly wound that strange silky cloth about his shattered elbow. ¡°I¡¯d say¡­ 12?¡± ¡°Have you been¡­ on the run¡­ since then?¡± the man asked, before the Heretic tugged his bandage a bit too tight and drew another audible wince from him. The Heretic did not answer him. ¡°The locket¡­ do you still have it?¡± the General asked him after a moment. The Heretic did not answer him with words, but he did fish from his pocket a silver chain. The General sighed in relief. ¡ª- Just a morning before, that chain had been wrapped about his neck, as he approached a muddied field and set himself to take the Heretic to task. He had not expected the boy¡¯s technique, but the boy understood his tactics well enough. He was ready to accept that the boy had defeated him when he lost¡­ but in the fray, the boy¡¯s knife had slid, and cut the locket about his neck loose. The boy¡¯s eyes were sharp- he caught but a glimpse of it before it fell into the mud. That sullied pendant now hung above the general, dangling from the hands of the young man that had bested him. ¡°She was beautiful,¡± the Heretic said, before dropping it down upon the man¡¯s chest. ¡°Her daughter is nothing like her though.¡± The man shot him a withering look. The Heretic quickly threw in something gratifying to appease the General wrath. ¡°She seems to take more after you. Quite¡­ handsome.¡± ¡°Give it to her.¡± ¡°The pendant?¡± ¡°I know what he¡¯s done to my arm. I can feel it. I¡¯m not going to make it boy. She deserves to know what¡­ she looked like. Truly looked like.¡± ¡°You got options,¡± the heretic took a moment to extract from his chest pocket a vial. Even beneath the limited light they had, both could see the ruby red liquid for what it was. The General rigorously shook his head. ¡°Never. Never again.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± the Heretic pocketed the vial once again. ¡°Then grit your teeth.¡± ¡°For wha-¡± the General¡¯s jaw clamped shut as pain shot through his arm. From the corner of his eye, he could see the bandage begin to burn away, a pale blue flame flickering in the dark of his cell as he could feel the pain of bones grinding against each other shoot straight through his arm. As his body writhed, the Heretic held his arm in place, letting the magic do its work. As the pain ebbed away, the General¡¯s eyes opened¡­ the last wisps of the bandages were gone. And his elbow answered his call to bend. ¡°How?¡± ¡°Healing was my mother¡¯s specialty,¡± the Heretic answered. He did not expand on the topic, his eyes still set upon the elbow he had mended. ¡°... Did I kill her?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I wasn¡¯t there for the purge. I was studying in the Capitol- the mobs couldn¡¯t just hang children before the Holy Eye, so I had the time I needed to get away.¡± The General¡¯s eyes widened as he began to better understand what led them to this point. Locked away in the depths of the holy temple, a saboteur and a paladin. The Heretic rose from his seat. ¡°I¡¯ve done all I can. Your daughter¡¯s probably got a plan to get you out. Just hold out till then.¡± ¡°And what about you?¡± The Heretic paused, before he began to meld into the shadows. ¡°Wait, at least give me a name!¡± Arcturus sat up from his bedding¡­ with a clink, the man realized that he had left something behind. His hand reached down for his pendant¡­ its lock was still set in place, but from the mud it was clear it had been opened. He parted its clasp, and in the dim light of the lantern the Heretic left behind, his thumb pressed in longing upon the last true portrait of Ilana Sussel. It seemed it was down to him to ensure his daughter knew her mother¡¯s true face. ¡ª The Matron did her best to keep the children calm. The sun was eaten whole, the land cloaked in black, and for some reason, the orphans took it as an excuse to be the gremlins she warned them they¡¯d become. Caustus was stealing the drapes, Penelope was picking Ethel for her name, and worst of all, she kept finding a specific child standing out in the courtyard. From the moment Rina had been left upon her doorstep, the Matron had considered her¡­ odd. Distracted. She was a loner, rarely crying, often doing the others a favor by sequestering herself away from the others to play with her dirt and her sticks. Those who would come to adopt children would dismiss Rina. Claim she had an ill favored look. There was something to be said about her dark curls and dark eyes- but the Matron would never say it. As per the scripture, every child was a gift from the goddess. But she was a perceptive one- sometimes, when she At times the Matron worried about her. At other times, she was happy just to let the child be- the others could be such a hassle. But she had never seen the girl like this. Rina stared up at the sky, her eyes enamored with the void that had swallowed the sun whole. She stood at the center of the courtyard, her lips forming words. The Matron stepped out to meet her, her name on the Nun¡¯s lips¡­ but Rina seemed locked in her stupor. ¡°RINA!¡± the Matron began to shake the girl from her stupor. As the Matron held the girl¡¯s shoulders, she found herself reflecting upon a refrain. Something a potential parent told her when she rejected the child. ¡°Her eyes are like the void.¡± The void the Matron found reflected in Rina¡¯s eyes was silhouetted by a sliver of white, a shimmer of the sun fighting through the void that masked it. ¡°She¡¯s coming,¡± Rina¡¯s lips formed about the words. The Matron pulled away, the voice of the girl seeming hollow. Distant. The void in her eyes began to crack with lines of gold. ¡ª The Holy Eye was built a century ago. A monument to the authority of the Church, a golden dome staring up into the sky, meeting the gaze of the sun, unbllinking and undaunted. At its center stood a spire, reaching ever closer to Her domain. It would never have reached of course- it was the symbol that mattered more to the architects of its magnificence, rather than the true accomplishments. It proved more resilient that the gold. The very sky rent open, a harsh golden light dancing down upon the faithful as a form robed in a dress black as night descended upon the dome, the gold bubbling and melted beneath her feet. As it bled away beneath her, Her voice echoed through all the capitol. ¡°My judgment is upon you.¡± The gold descended in rivulets, the radiance that it suffered rendering it thin as water. It flowed down the parapets, clogging drains meant to siphon rain to the lowest quarters. An urchin found the first blobs of gold cooling in the sewage. What value could it have now, as the Goddess stood atop the highest point in all the land? Cracks of golden lightning snapped sharply upon the Holy Eye as the faithful and faithless alike scrambled. As I snuck through the lower quarters, I could only marvel at the distraction she made. The woman that I could only refer to as Goddess was not nearly as powerless as she claimed- to block the sun required a great deal of power, one would assume. Or was it more the opposite? That to keep the sun burning and feeding the people below, a great deal of energy needed to be spent? Such complications were not fit for the minds of mortals, I presume. Panic gripped the hearts of the Priests and Nuns as I passed by. They phased past me, screams in their eyes, their breath short and shallow. Their legs carried them to and fro, their hands flapping out, attempting to quell the fear that gripped the hearts of their braying sheep. I could not stop to reassure them, for this¡­ this had been the plan. It was, admittedly, a slapdash mess of a plan, but it was something better than nothing. For now, I needed to focus on finding my most trusted companions. My fellow Inquisitors, paladins who possessed the wits to see reason. Find them, get my own consecrated blade¡­ so that the goddess could enact her part of the plan. Even now, the rumble of her ¡°judgment¡± rolled through the minds of the thronged masses. As I passed through the port into the Paladin¡¯s Barracks, the guards had all but abandoned their posts. It took but a quick nod from me to assure them that I belonged there- they lacked the wherewithal to pause and question my appearance. As I reached my quarters, I took a moment to look upon the Meredith in the mirror. Her tresses were matted with muck, ends splayed aside, her visage muddied by the stains of her myriad battles. She looked as though she slept through a storm and half, or been dragged through a war. Perhaps I had been. As I pulled the shirt off my back, I realized that the back had grown dark with blood that had been sprayed across it. I had all but neglected the fray that my father engaged in with the¡­ amalgamation of sin that Magimus had become. As I turned, I found myself confronting the judging gaze of a fellow Commander. Jorrel was his name, and gray was his mane. He stood there, resplendent in his armor, blade by his side. My hands rose to cover what I had bared of myself, but the man¡¯s eyes diverted. ¡°Finish up,¡± he ordered. ¡°I will not face a heretic harlot¡­ undressed.¡± The scorn in his voice bit, but I had expected it, from the way Magimus had attempted to manipulate me. ¡°Heretic?¡± I asked of him as I quickly threw on a shit, doing my best to bury my spite at his usage of the second term. ¡°Magimus told us of your attempt to kill him.¡± ¡°Magimus is a liar.¡± ¡°Your Heretic friends are robbing us of the sun, and you claim the Father is false?¡± The blade was being unsheathed behind my back. ¡°Perhaps the Goddess is relinquishing her gift to you. For your faith in the wrong man.¡± I knew Jorrel well enough. He was a man who found his meaning through his faith. Convincing him would prove a challenge. ¡°That¡¯s not¡­ no, that¡¯s a Heretic trick. I know what you are, Sussel!¡± There it was, the song of a blade ringing through my head. HIs blade was out. I turned slowly, my hands carried within his view. ¡°Jorrel, think this through,¡± I eased him in, trying to use his own memories- his own perception to guide him towards the light. ¡°You know me. You know how many.. Heretics lay dead by my hand. I slaughtered them all,¡± I insisted. Jorrel knew my record well- we were competitors once, both aiming for the right to serve by my father. My youth and charisma earned me many allies, but his experience had always proven an even match. ¡°How could I have done that without the Goddess¡¯ blessing? To, supposedly, my own people?¡± I could see the wheels in his mind turning. That¡¯s right¡­ he was questioning it. Comparing my claims against the Father¡¯s. And then¡­ he began to laugh. Sharp, harsh barks of laughter. Each resonating with an increasing depth of horror that roused from a sinking part of my heart. When he finally faced me, he spoke with a growl. ¡°Show me your hand.¡± I blinked, but he pulled his hand away from his blade, showing the back as he pulled his glove off. ¡°Both of them. Like this.¡± I presented my hands gingerly as the man shook his head. ¡°Of course you weren¡¯t a proper one. Should have known the moment he locked your father away,¡± he reached back for his blade. In his lackadaisical mannerism, however, I found opportunity. My hand flew for my knife, as he dipped his hand down to the blade at his hip. Neither of us made it in time. The hiss of a summoning reverberated through the small room I had to myself. What had once been my sanctuary suddenly felt small, constraining as my instincts kicked in. In hindsight, I suppose I expected a beast to appear. I had fought many a troll or direwolf, or similar monster summoned by the Heretics. Each time I heard the sound of their magics, I felt I had to prepare. But nothing appeared. Nothing to my eyes at the very least. Jorrel¡¯s body, however, seized, a hand cupping his ear, his body stumbling as the whine of the Heretic¡¯s magic continued to pulse through the room. ¡°Come on,¡± the Heretic¡¯s voice echoed from the doorway. He looked¡­ worse, but whole. His body sagged against the frame for support, his hand holding a position from his matted cloak, the muck of his night still weighing him down. Jorrel howled out a profanity or two, as the Heretic¡¯s eyes focused upon him. I grabbed my knife, before pausing. Jorrel¡¯s hands were clenched upon his ears, his form bending into a fetal position. I reached down¡­ and took the blade from his hip. ¡°Let him go,¡± I ordered the heretic as I buckled his shortblade about my waist. The Heretic did not. ¡°Henri, stop it,¡± I insisted, marching towards him. He took a moment longer, before finally lowering his hand. The sound ended with his release, Jorrel melting upon the floor as he turned towards us in the doorway. ¡°The Goddess¡¯ judgment is upon us, Jorrel. The Father will face his punishment. Whether she condemns you too is¡­ up to you to decide. If there is an ounce of doubt within you¡­ gather whoever you can, in her name.¡± The Heretic slammed the door shut before he could respond. ¡°This way,¡± the young man rushed towards the stairs. ¡°Your father¡¯s locked away in the furthest cell they could find, but the guards are all distracted by¡­ her. You might find safe passage-¡± ¡°Stop.¡± The Heretic listened this time, his eyes slowly twisting towards me. ¡°We¡¯re not running,¡± I insisted. The Heretic took a moment. His eyes darted from down the hall and back to me. ¡°What do you mean, not running? Your father needs help. You are not¡­ properly armed.¡± I did appreciate his candor on my lack of armor. ¡°You saw what he became. Nothing in this church, in this¡­ realm of existence can match that, save¡­ you know,¡± he gestured to the port. ¡°Let the Goddess handle her faithful flock. She has the sun behind her- all you will do is hold her back.¡± ¡°I am an Inquisitor,¡± I answered him. When he stared, lost and stunned by my simple answer, I had to clarify, ¡°It is my duty to wield my blade in her name.¡± The air grew still. The scant light that escaped her eclipse framed the Heretic¡¯s body as he took several deep inhalations. The frenetic energy that possessed him when he had dueled my father was bubbling from deep within, his hands clenched in fists. I stood, resolute in my position. ¡°We have a plan-¡± ¡°Sod off.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°Go. Go on then. Die. I can¡¯t waste what remains of my mortal coil protecting minions of the Church.¡± That¡¯s right. He was a Heretic after all. But¡­ ¡°You have a part to play too,¡± I said. ¡°The Goddess-¡± ¡°She¡¯ll find replacements. They always do.¡± ¡°... Did she¡­ ever reach out to you?¡± He turned to me. HIs eyes were cast in shadow, but I could see a glint of refraction shimmer from the void where his eyes should have been. ¡°She¡¯s a summoned spirit. You know¡­ a demon. Shackled and chained to this mortal world by a contract. With the church. Every person you have ever hunted. Every summoner you ever killed¡­ you don¡¯t protect the people. You just protect your own.¡± HIs finger pressed against my collar. The snarl in his voice grew deeper, the air in his throat garbled by a resentment I had only just begun to contemplate. ¡°In Her Graces, are all equal, right? In Her name, all may find absolution wasn¡¯t it? I read my scriptures. I know what you all truly believe. Your pontifications, your sermons, your consecrations, look who they serve-¡± he thrust his finger out towards the courtyard. A procession had begun. Paladins in gleaming armor, the gold of the Goddess¡¯ light danced upon their polished helms. At their center stood Father Magimus, in his ancient decrepit form. My heart raced- I had grown late. ¡°I¡­ I wish you the best in your escape,¡± I began to angle towards the stairs. The blade alone would have to do. I did not turn to face him again, my heart still set upon the task ahead of me. He kept his silence as I made my retreat, my focus bent upon that odious toad in priest¡¯s clothing. I simply hoped my plan would be enough to save us all.