Serafin marched down the hallway of the infirmary so fast that her black cloak flew through the air behind her. The few people still working made way for her, diving out of the way. Nobody in their right mind would stand in the way of a paladin, even less so when they had drawn their weapon.

She barged into the last room on the left, and her weapon fell to the ground. On the small white bed laid Ellyrie, tucked in underneath a heavy white blanket. Serafin raced over to her. She laid her hand on her head, it was cold. Tears started to run down the paladin's face.

"El, El, you big dumb idiot." Serafin had to sit down near the bed, her legs were trembling. She took Ellyrie's right hand into her own, ran her fingers across the captain's golden ring. "You still remember..even after all this time."

"My, My lordship?"

Serafin's head turned on a dime towards the door, toward the figure that was peeking in.

It was a priest of the Mother, per usual the caretakers of such facilities. He withered and squirmed under the look Serafin gave him.

"What is wrong with her, tell me this instant!" She had risen up to her feet and picked up her blade, with every step she took towards the priest he sunk further down into the ground.

"I, We do not know your lordship. We found a large scar on her chest, though it looked healed. All signs of life are normal, she just does not seem to wake up. We have tried all we can."

Serafin's hands were trembling as she towered above the man. To his luck, another voice called out to her, little more than a whisper.

"Lord commander, you are needed. The locus has been found."

Her eyes flickered to the end of the hallway. For just a moment she could see the shadow before it vanished from sight. Serafin bit her teeth together.

"You will continue to tend to her with all the ressources you have at your disposal, priest."

She grabbed him by the collar and forced the trembling man to his feet. Her grip only tightened.

"That woman is the only heir of the imperial Steward, do you understand? The imperial succession rests in your hands, and if I return to find a single hair on her head out of place I will drag you personally into the deepest pits of the Zanaan ore mines where even your goddess will not find you."

As Serafin marched off the priest bowed in her direction over, and over again.

Outside the infirmary two of the "Purity"'s hunters awaited her. Their thin and tall silhouettes, nightmare made manifest to most imperial citizens, were a welcome, comforting image to her now.

"Lead the way." At a wave of her hand, they set in motion. The long red cloaks that obscured their bodies danced in the wind, each and every of their movements akin to strings caught up in a breeze.

They lead her to a small bookstore close by the local temple. The door had been broken open, by the cuts most likely by the hunters themselves. Before she stepped across the doorframe Serafin pulled out a glove from her bag.

Midnight blue, it shone and reflected the light with the multitude of crystals that adorned it's surface. Serafin put it on and grasped the doorframe, closing her eyes.

Within moments, images assaulted her mind. Giant black pillars standing lonely in a wasteland of ash, legions of hideously deformed creatures marching under the ceaseless drum that beat like a heart, a staircase of bone that lead up to a giant malformed creature.

Serafin pulled away and gasped for breath. Not a moment too soon. With shaking hands she returned the glove to her bag and turned to the hunters. "Bring the Adjutant and inform the Grand Master that we are dealing with something incredibly dangerous."

She did not have to wait long before Serafin could see the robed figure of the Adjutant march down the street to her. It looked at the store once with it's glowing sockets, then turned her head to Serafin.

"You were right to request me, Lord Commander. We should move with haste."

She followed the skeletal figure inside. Even without her glove, deep down she could feel how wrong everything inside was. She stayed in the middle of the room, circling around with her blade raised while the adjutant walked past the shelves.

"It is here." It had stopped near a wall, pulled out a book from one of the shelves and stood silently as a hidden door opened in front of it.

Beyond it laid a vast black chamber. After a moment of hesitation, Serafin followed the Adjutant inside, only to regret it immediately.

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The darkness around them was absolute. There was no up or below, only the faint light coming from the entrance, and a stone pedestal before them. Serafin took every step with great care, not sure of the solid ground before her. Were she to step to the side, would she fall? Descend into an endless abyss? Her mind raced, and she clung onto the Adjutant for dear life as she reached it and the pedestal.

"I apologise for my rashness, lord commander. I did not expect the distortion to be this powerful. It would have been the correct procedure to warn you beforehand." The Adjutant reached out it's skeletal hands and picked up the tome resting on the pedestal. With it removed the darkness around them faded, leaving only a small, dingy lit room behind.

Serafin looked over the Adjutants shoulder onto the book. The letters branded on it's cover moved and shifted before her eyes, enough to make her dizzy. She shook her head and stepped back. Elder runes had never been her strong suit, and these were far beyond the complexity she could understand.

"What is it, what are we dealing with?"

Adjutants were not meant to have or voice emotions, but Serafin could hear worry in it's melodic tone.

"Lord Commander, this tome is not in any of the Guardian's records. The only resemblance I could find was to 'The ranks and spires of Ash', confiscated after the scouring wars a hundred years ago."

Serafin took a step back, her eyes widening as she stared down at the book. "But we lost two legions then, they had summoned a Herald, the left hand of Elthaine itself, and you mean to tell me this thing is in the same league?"

The Adjutant clamped the book under it's shoulder. "I mean to say exactly that, lord commander. It is not my position to offer assistance to the reigning lord commander, however I cannot help but advise that any action must be swift and decisive. Anyone who has been in touch with this book and knows it's contents could create an army we could hardly oppose this far away from the heartland."

As they walked out of the store, they found the lord commander awaiting them, flanked by four of their hunters.

"I see you were successful in locating the source, Serafin. Please, come walk with me and tell me what you found."

The sun shone down on them as they walked, a comforting summer warmth that Serafin just could not feel. Nothing had hit the empire harder in it's recent history than the scouring wars, and now she had discovered the means to start another?

"So, what do you intend to do about this, Serafin?" Helder had stopped, his gaze fixed on the growing camp outside the city walls. There were no trees for miles, material to build proper walls was in short supply, most people had to sleep on the ground.

Serafin grasped onto the hilt of her blade for support. "We do not know who it is that got this tome, we do not know how many others they have inducted. It could be just a few, they could even have died summoning the demon, but I, I simply do not know."

"And what do you know, Serafin?" Helder's words made her shoulders slump.

"That if there is just a single person with knowledge of it that gets away, they can start anew. Form another coven, spread their corruption to another city, lie in wait until they can try again to bring ruin into our borders. I cannot let that happen. If another infestation bursts out, it would be all my fault." She pulled her cap further into her face. "Their blood would be on my hands."

Helder crossed his behind his back. "Our hands are always bloody, Serafin. We may not kill with our blades, but with pen and word. That does not make us lesser killers."

He laid a hand on her shoulder. "And it does not make our task any easier."

Tears started to stream down Serafin's face, she could not lift her head. "El will find out, and if she does, oh bless her heart she would never understand."

"That they do not understand is proof of our success, Serafin. To keep them blissfully unaware of the danger around us, free from the fear of corruption. Their disgust is our honour, Their fear is our reward." Helder let go and looked across the growing camp one more time. "You are in charge, and I know your heart is in the right place, that you will make the right choice. The empire depends on you."

With his last words ringing in her ears he returned to the "Purity", leaving Serafin to herself. The streets were quiet, save for the few Gardists patrolling and checking empty houses for anyone that had tried to stay hidden. Every now and then they found and dragged someone kicking and screaming out their home. She watched this, her hands shaking.

These were the people she was supposed to protect. That is why she had become a guardian. And now she had to mow them down, on the suspicion of a single rotten weed.

She did not take note of where her feet took her, first when she looked up did she see the infirmary in front of her, and the shadows of multiple hunters stalking the building. At least El was safe, but would she ever be able to look at her the same way again? After she had pleaded for Serafin to join her instead of taking up the mantle?

For ten years had she worn it with pride, not the black leather felt unbearably heavy, fullfilling her wish to sink into the ground and disappear.

"Lord commander." The melodic tone of the Adjutant pulled Serafin out of her stupor.

"The hunters have reported that the city has now been emptied, the population awaits your decree."

She closed her eyes. What a paladin she was, she could not even face the skeleton head on. She gripped her blade with both hands and rested it's tip on the ground. That at least caused her hands to calm.

"With the evidence of such absolute corruption and a threefold breach of the truth immaculate the decree can only be one. The suspects overwhelm our capacity and the danger of the culprits escaping cannot be risked. I hereby decree the suspects guilty in the eyes of the pantheon, the imperial steward and the Imperator Aeterna herself. May the Reaper take their Souls and the Judge decree their final rest."

The Adjutant bowed. "May the truth shine eternal."

Serafin turned her back to the infirmary, returning to their airship.

"May the truth shine in glory."