“Why were you at the wall,” Sim slammed his hand on the table.

Raylas sighed, longingly looking at the thin, barred window near the ceiling.

The room was dim and felt more crowded than it should. There was a guard watching the door, probably one on the other side, one standing behind him making sure he doesn’t move round too much, then there was Sim pacing around their table.

It would be a party if it wasn’t for the topics of discussion.

“You said you were not followed,” Sim roared. “Yet here we are with fresh undead ripping down the palisade and almost getting into town.”

“I did what I could to get them off my trail,” Raylas said wearily. “I warned you that undead had followed me, and you still let me stay in the town.”

“Don’t blame me for your misdeeds,” Sim snapped. “You have endangered the town with your carelessness and led them here!”

“I was also the one to hold them off until your guards showed up to clean it up.”

The guard behind him slapped him on the back of the head. The air twisted angrily, a gust of wind blowing through the room in a harsh gust.

“Stay down, girl,” Raylas called. “They’re just doing their pathetic investigation. Leave ‘em be.”

Sim glared around the room and then growled at him.

Raylas shrugged his shoulders then twisted in his chair to get more comfortable again. The slap had pushed him off that one spot which didn’t strain his tied up arms, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t find it again.

His clothes were stiff and itchy, just bought from one of the tailors in town. As he wiggled in his chair his skin felt irritation from the fabrics. Even his feet needed to be adjusted, so he patted his heels on the ground to push the new boots into their proper position again.

At least he smelled clean again.

“You also abandoned the area after the attack, leaving the guards clueless to what had occurred,” Sim started again after the wind calmed into stillness.

“Why should a civilian stay during a guard’s matter?” Raylas asked.

“Because said civilian is the reason we have this problem in the first place!” he roared, his hands slamming on the table again. A faint sound of splintering wood resounded from the impact.

The man’s surprisingly strong, he thought as he scratched the shadow of a beard growing on his chin. Not only were the clothes itching, but so was his face. A twinge of fear popped into his head thinking he caught the fleas again, but no… he was clean.

He hoped.

“You told me to stay out of trouble,” Raylas added. “I did what I could to keep them contained, then left the scene to avoid any other problems.”

“You could have been tainted by them!”

“I might already have been tainted before I came into town,” he countered. “Need I remind you what the hell happened again?”

Sim clicked his tongue and turned away.

Raylas leaned back in the hard wooden chair and sighed again. Today started off so well. A nice bit of reading of the horrible actions of the Captain, fighting undead in the biting cold, spending far too much coin on a new set of clothes.

Even with the amount he took from the merchant wagons, he was running low on copper. He still had the silver coins, but who besides a guild merchant or traveling one had enough coins on their person to exchange for one? That dwarf got so lucky to get that silver piece…

Then, while enjoying watching his pouch shrink further and further he was dragged from the shop to be interrogated by the guards for causing a ruckus near the wall. They tried to drag ‘those poor children’ away from him until they screamed and burst into mist again, which only added an extra charge of hexing the villagers until some of the guards recalled Sapphire’s ability yesterday.

He looked at the window again, the clouds changing color as the day was coming to a close.

It was a beautiful day.

“You should have gone to get the guards than risk the safety of–,” Sim growled.

“I sent Sapphire to get the guards while I held them at bay,” he interrupted, getting annoying at having to repeat himself… how many times now?

He received a smack from the guard behind him again with an order not to interrupt.

“By cutting the opening wider to get at them?” Sim hissed.

“I cut nothing open. They found holds in the wood and pulled it apart. I aimed for the fingers to keep them from getting a good grip on them.”

“Undead are too weak to pull the wall apart. We have found many marks of your knife on the outside of the wall as well, cutting and splitting the wood. When you attacked the undead you should have controlled that hook. Instead you created extra dangers for everyone else.”

He gave the guard an annoyed stare. Control his knife? He pushed those bastards back and held the line by himself, yet they think he caused part of the incident to… recklessness?

“I never forced my knife outside the wall,” he defended. “How could I when they were piled against it, to the point of crushing each other to get in.”

“We have evidence against you proving you did.”

“If there are marks outside the wall, then it wasn’t caused by me.”

“Are you suggesting we have a traitor in the town?” Sim asked, his expression darkening into fury.

“Who said anything about a traitor,” Raylas snapped. “I was in the town all day, mostly reading in Sunnyside. How could I have cut open a hole for the undead? Why would I? There is no profit for me to do something that dumb.”

“Profit!” Sim punched down on the table, the plank he hit splitting in half.

“Hey, boss,” the guard at the door said hesitantly. “Calm down a bit…”

“You damned Inquisitors just don’t want to dirty your hands,” Sim spat, gripping the table and ripping the broken plank off. “Throw this trash into the jail until… You know your orders.”

Raylas tilted his head.

The air around the room shimmered and a blue haired form condensed, sitting crosslegged on the table.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The guards all drew their weapons but none moved against the girl. Sim turned and gave her a scornful look.

“And it looks like the true agent has appeared,” he spat again.

“You think we are part of this inquisition?” she asked.

Raylas burst out laughing as the pieces clicked together.

“Me? In the inquisition? You think I’m one of those maniacs?”

A smack resounded. His head swam as the guard smacked him again but he kept on laughing. A thud sounded next to him and he saw the girl had leapt from the table and was standing next to him. She was holding the guard’s arm, his fist was less than a hand's distance away from him. The guard yanked his arm back, his muscles straining until she released him. Sapphire stood stiff and turned to glare at Sim.

“I warned you not to hurt my Master,” she rumbled, a fog of breath escaping her mouth.

The room’s temperature chilled. Flecks of frosty lights appeared at the girl’s feet and spread out. Small patches of frost formed where the lights touched, and the light phased through the wood and armor of the guards. Each one grimaced in discomfort and rubbed their arms after the light passed.

Raylas tried to grab the girl but his hands were stopped by the rope which tied them together. A cold radiated off of her like a pillar of ice. The guards started forward but Sim beat them to attack her, his sword in his hands.

It flew down and was about to decapitate her but as the sword struck it went through her as if she wasn’t even there. Once it exited the blade broke in two, ice covering the section that entered her.

Sapphire’s eyes glowed in an unnatural purple, her hair sparkled and blew around. She growled and started to reach for Sim, the air around her fingers waving like the air around a hot stone. Her touch made Raylas’ danger sense alert, telling him that to be touched would mean something terrible would happen.

His heart increased and he took in a breath, the chill air causing him to cough.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay down,” he choked.

The breeze froze. The girl flinched around to see him catching his breath. Her glowing eyes seemed to peer into his soul, reading him in ways that he couldn’t understand. It made him recall the look she gave him when they first met on the road, the feeling of helplessness and distance in strength between them.

“If I am your Master, then you will listen to me. Stand down.”

Her frown grew, but her eyes turned back into their usual purple and the room warmed. She gave him a bow and backed up next to him. Sim remained where he was when he swung the sword holding the broken blade, both shock and wariness etched on his face as he held the sword in front of him to defend.

“Demon…” Sim breathed.

“Djinni,” Sapphire deadpanned. “Don’t compare me to something as pathetic as a mere demon.”

“A powerful mage,” Raylas explained to the guard’s fearful and confused face.

The girl gave him a look which appeared disappointed and exasperated.

“She is very protective toward me,” he sighed, frowning. He sat back in the chair, trying to look comfortable in the room of guards.

“So I can see,” Sim said, examining the girl for a moment before turning back to him.

“Now before we continue this little song and dance, know that I am no inquisitor, no scout of the church, and I’m not even all that fond of the gods to begin with.” He tugged at the ropes for a moment to release some pressure, but they were very tight. “Now if you would untie my hands I think we could hold a more civil conversation.”

The chair also seemed to dig into his back, the comfortable spot still eluded him. Sim was peering at both of them, indecision etched in his face. The other guards have stepped back to the wall giving him as much space as possible.

“Listen,” Raylas said in an exasperated tone. “I don’t care about whatever all of you are up to in this town, and I have no love for churches, gods, or any of that nonsense. As far as I’m concerned I just want to sit back and relax for the week then head out once my armor is complete.”

“I see no reason to believe you,” Sim snapped.

“I, too, see no reason to believe,” a deep voice resounded as the door to the room opened. Vodi strode inside and gave the guards a curious glance. Sim matched his stare and gave the guard outside a glare only for him to shuffle away nervously.

“You are not needed here, Sir Knight,” Sim hurriedly said with a polite bow.

“The man was my guest last night and now he is being imprisoned,” Vodi commented. “I would think it's my business to keep those I associate with out of trouble, or at least know why they are being treated as criminals.”

Sim looked between him and the old man. He then glanced around the room to the guards, each one Raylas could see slightly shook their head. A message of some sort?

“This man has brought undead to the town in an attempt to eradicate us,” one of the guards quoted.

“Eradicate is a strong word,” the Knight said.

“I deem him, and his companion, too dangerous to remain free to roam the city,” Sim joined.”As such they will be imprisoned in a cell until we determine their innocence or until they are no longer considered a threat.”

Raylas sighed and slumped in his chair. He broke the rules and fought some undead. He thought he would be in the clear for doing a good deed, but just as the saying goes: ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’

He was at least happy to at least get one night of comfortable sleep in a bed, but he made a down payment for a week's stay. Losing that much money hurts more than being accused of attracting undead. He probably did bring them, but it wasn’t like he controlled the curse.

Maybe it would be best just to jump town and pray for an uneventful trip to the next town. He might be able to get a loan for some new armor, or maybe even afford some with the other gems he had in his pouch. Hell, the girl was surprisingly powerful with those cold spells, maybe he could hire her to keep him safe for the journey?

Imagine, him the Patron for once?

“If their crime is bringing the undead, then the best course should be to toss them outside the walls and let the undead feed.” Vodi leaned against the wall, his armor clanking as he crossed his arms. “To imprison them would keep the undead focused inside. Having him run away would create a space of safety from the town.”

“Agreed,” Raylas chimed in, smiling at the thought of an easy freedom.

“That isn’t acceptable due to evidence he tried to open the way for the dead,” Sim countered, glaring at him. He then explained the supposed scratches on the outside of the wall.

“With a hooked dagger, you say?” Vodi inquired.

“Correct.”

“Why?”

Sim took in a breath. “By opening the way for the undead he could have them attack the town. During the chaos, he and his associate would flee the town and leave us as the sacrifice.”

“Stupid plan,” Raylas complained. He felt the wind of a guard’s hand fly over his head and a grunt from the girl. He glanced up to see she had the fist’s trajectory away from his head, though she was wincing. “If I was going to do that, why attack a wall in the middle of the day? Wouldn’t it be easier to do at night when the undead are more active?”

“It would also have been sloppy,” Vodi sighed in agreement as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his bag. “To attack the town while leaving his armor with the smith and a very nice quality map in his room?”

“How did you get that?” Raylas exclaimed as the Knight laid out his map on the table, showing the marks of the journey the caravan planned to reach Gloomcrest.

“I had someone investigate your room when I heard you were brought in,” Vodi said. “Good thing, too. Your packs were still in there, unpacked and not prepared for a quick escape. A high quality emerald was also hidden with the map as well.”

“This proves nothing,” Sim growled. “He wouldn’t need his supplies to... He would just need to pass the message.”

“Why would he abandon his fortune, map, supplies, and defenses to use you as a sacrifice?” the old man sighed. “Think, Sim. He would die within a day from the elements, much less a monster.”

“Then he would kill himself to make them… to make,” the guard started to look uncomfortable.

“To give the inquisition proof that you collaborate with monsters?” Vodi stated.

Sim stiffened and gave the man a look of fear then glanced at his men. The other guards put their hands on their weapons, preparing to draw.

A sudden eruption of bloodlust erupted from the old man. Raylas’ heart slammed against his throat, his breath frozen in his lungs unable to be released.

The old man slowly lowered his arms and held out his hand. A liquid seemed to flow out of his armor toward his hand and solidified, growing larger and larger until he was holding an enormous, solid black two-handed sword.

The air shimmered and Sapphire appeared between Raylas and the old man. He gave her a knowing smile and turned to Sim.

“I think it's time to explain what your town is trying to hide, Sim.” Vodi smiled. “I’ve been patiently staying in our little house graciously given by the chief. Your hospitality has been acceptable. My grandson has also found this puzzle very enjoyable, but now you’ve gone and arrested someone I am interested in.”

His fist tightened on the sword, his knuckles cracking from the grip.

“How about starting from the beginning before things get… simpler.”