Camille recovered faster than any of them, and she immediately bowed deeply to Maedras. “We are but your humble servants in the light and under the Angel, Inquisitor, how can we assist you?”

The others, perhaps less gracefully, also bowed, repeating the standard greeting Mikhail had taught them “just in case”. A bead of sweat rolled down Sam’s neck as he felt the Inquisitor’s grim eyes looking down on him from above. Was this it? The Inquisitor wore heavy armor, rode a horse, and was definitely much better trained than he was. If he’d come for them…

“Rise, I have no time for pleasantries.” the Inquisitor's stern voice said from above them.”

When they steadied themselves, they found the scarred man still glaring down at them.

“To what…” Camille began uncertainly, “do we owe this privilege, Inquisitor?”

He stayed silent for a few moments more, studying them intently. Sam’s heart thumped like a bass drum in his chest. “You faced a Fallbeast two weeks past,” he finally said. “I need to know everything you can tell me about it.”

Sam had to fight to hold back a sigh of relief. “Inquisitor,” he began, “you should perhaps speak to the two who actually… killed it. They seemed much more knowledgeable about such things than us.”

“Yes,” the Inquisitor mused, “Father Mikhail suggested the same thing. “But even should they have been available, I would have wished to speak to you. Now do not waste my time. Daylight burns fast, and I have much road to cover still.”

“It was… very big. About this tall,” Camille said, with her hand about four feet off the ground, “and very thick and muscular. It also had red stripes running down the sides of its face.”

“Muscular, you say,” the Inquisitor repeated, rubbing his chin with a gauntleted hand. “Would you have described it as well-fed? Or was it gaunt, or have a hungry look about it, perhaps?”

“No,” Sam answered, “it looked fit. We didn’t have much time to study it, but it didn’t look hungry at all… except for trying to eat us, of course.”

“Yes, tell me more about that,” The Inquisitorlooked back at them. “It attacked you. Did it seem like it was trying to track you down? What did it do exactly?”

“Well,” Camille began carefully, “We don’t know whether it was tracking us, but we do know it tried to attack us, and it got Sam’s arm. The only reason he still has it is that Wayfarers Edne and Alder arrived in time to slay it and heal it.”

“Oh?” The Inquisitor cocked his head, then with a smooth motion he lifted himself up and off his horse, and landed on the dirt with the clink of metal on metal. He stepped in front of Sam, and was tall enough to look him right in the eyes. “Your arm, show it to me.”

Sam hesitated for a second, but then gave it to the Inquisitor. The tall man grabbed the arm in a strong, gauntleted fist, then rolled up the sleeve of the simple linen shirt from the clothes Mikhail had given them to replace their modern outfits. Maedras quirked an eyebrow. “Those are a lot of scars. And yet, perfectly sealed and faded. From two weeks ago? And you retained full use of your arm?”

“Yes, Inquisitor. Edne repaired my bones and flesh, and Mikhail reconstructed my nerves.”

“Hmm.” Maedras hummed thoughtfully, and looked closely at him. “Samson, was it?”

“Ah, yes?” Sam fidgeted, arm still locked in the Inquisitor's vice-like grip.

“As I understand it,” the Inquisitor continued, peering at his face, “you forced the beast to release your arm after it had taken hold. Is that true?”

“Yes, I stabbed it with a knife and it let go,” Sam hedged, “but I was already dead by then. The shock was setting in, and my blood pressure was dropping fast. If I hadn’t gotten healed right away, I would have been dead in minutes.”

“You are somewhat knowledgeable about wounds as well, it seems.” Maedras noted, still not releasing his arm. “That is uncommon.”

Sam cursed at himself for letting slip more than he should have. “Well, only some basics, Inquisitor. Nothing very sophisticated.”

The Inquisitor stared at him for a few moments, and Sam held his gaze uncomfortably. If he needed to draw Steed, he’d be at a disadvantage, he would have to draw it from the left with his right hand, putting his arm across his entire body, which would be impossible for the Inquisitor to miss. And then he’d be fighting with a huge sword in very close quarters with an armored man who matched him in size and passed him in experience. No, his best bet would have been a knife, or…

Maedras released his arm, and turned away to mount his horse once more. “Thank you Initiates. I have what I needed.”

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“So, what is it you’re looking for?” Kaisei spoke up. “Uh, Inquisitor?” he added hurriedly after a glare from Camille.

“That, Initiate, in an indiscreet question.” Maedras said. “But I am in a good mood, I suppose, and there is no harm in letting you know.”

He looked down at them from his horse. “I am investigating a recent disturbance in the Ether that took place in this area. The dates might be consistent with the Wolf’s appearance, which could be concerning. Potentially nothing, but such disturbances can herald the coming of worse than a few twisted beasts. Demons, at worst. I pray this is not the case, but I also ride and ask, and keep my sword sharp. You might see more of me in the coming weeks. Perhaps I will have more questions for you. For now, get back to your Chapel, the hour grows late.”

He looked at them one last time, and his piercing gaze stopped on Sam. “Stay diligent in your training, and always place your faith in the Angel. I will be following your progress with interest.”

With a jab from his heels and a barked order to his horse, Maedras set forward again, and soon he was galloping off into the distance.

“Sam,” Kaisei said eventually in the silence that followed the Inquisitor’s departure, “I like you and all, but you’re a goddamn trouble magnet, you know that right?”

----------------------------------------

As they arrived at the Chapel, they pushed the door in to find Mikhail, sitting on a chair in front of them, with his sword drawn from its scabbard and resting on his knees. When he saw them, his shoulders sagged.

“Oh thank the Lady,” he breathed, as he stood. “When that Inquisitor decided to go seek you out, I feared that he would be the one stepping through that door with a still-bloody sword.”

“But you still stayed?” Kaisei asked. “Even though he would have come back for you?”

“Foolish boy,” Mikhail said as he rose. “If he didn’t figure anything out, then me trying to run in the night after his visit would be a death warrant. Old I may be, but I am no coward yet, and Death will not find me running away from Her like a guilty thief. More importantly, he didn’t suspect anything?”

“No,” Camille said a bit sourly, “but he took note of Sam. Apparently you can manage to become a celebrity no matter where you go.”

“I didn’ ask for it!” Sam protested. “And it was just dumb luck! Apparently, the arm thing is a really big deal.”

Each jumping in to comment, they quickly recounted their encounter with the Inquisitor to Mikhail.

“Well... Shit.” Mikhail said when they’d finished telling the story. “A blessing and a curse, that feat of Healing was. On the one hand, a superstitious Inquisitor will say that your miraculous recovery was proof of the Lady’s blessing and perhaps give you a pass for any unusual strangeness… But now he’s got his eye on you.” Mikhail sat back down and rubbed at his temples, grimacing. “It may be a benevolent one for now, but Inquisitors are perceptive, and this one is hunting you down, even if he doesn’t know it yet. If he ever noticed something he shouldn’t…”

Mikhail trailed off then looked back at them. “Very well, I’ll have to also give you some doctrinal formation. It won’t be the full process they give to proper trainees, but most of that is less education and more turning them into little fanatics anyway. With enough basics, you should be able to pass muster. Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Camille deadpanned. “You know, you’ve got a talent for reassuring people, Mikhail.”

“Well it’s not my bloody fault a fucking Inquisitor decided to show up, is it?” Mikhail snapped. “If you’ve got better ideas, by all means, tell me about them!”

“Couldn’t we just… vanish?” Kaisei suggested. “It’s not like he can kill us if he can’t find us, right?”

“Inquisitors are master trackers,” Mikhail said, shaking his head. “Hunting down fugitives is half of what they do. Running would just tell him you’re the ones he’s been looking for, and then he will find you. It doesn’t matter how long you run, the Inquisitors always get their prey in the end. Maedras in particular has a… reputation.”

“What kind of reputation?” Sam asked.

“Not long ago, there was a heretical cult that cropped up near Vahein. A bad one. They stole children away for heretical indoctrination, killed two traveling priests, and burned a church. They sent Maedras in to root them out. The idea was that he’d investigate, find the cult, then report their location and lead an assault on their compound.”

“And, did he?” Sam asked.

“Oh, he found them alright. The damn fools hadn’t bothered to train their men in spotting a tail, or really in making any efforts in covering their trail at all. Maedras tracked them down easily enough to an old abandoned mine. Only, when he did, he didn’t report them. Instead, he recruited local villagers and had them chop trees and pile them up at the mine’s exit. Then he lit them on fire and waited with sword drawn. He killed any adult that stumbled out of the mine. Some tried to surrender, some to run, but he gave mercy to none. He even killed some of the captured children when they tried to attack him with rocks and broken bottles, shouting heresy at him.

“By the end of the night, he’d destroyed the entire cult, by himself, and even rescued some of the children. Three dozen lives he claimed that day, and since then, you can hear all sorts of nicknames being told about him. Some respectful, some much less so, but none uttered in front of him. That,” Mikhail concluded, “is the man hunting for you.”

Silence reigned in the room. Eventually, Mikhail sat back in his chair and took out his pipe. “Ah, well. It is what it is. Now all we can do is work with the trials the Lady has seen fit to send down upon us. Your training resumes tomorrow, and I’m afraid there won’t be any more breaks for a while. All our efforts must go into making you convincing enough trainees. Sam already has a proper weapon, but I will fetch some for the rest of you as soon as I can, and you Kaisei must focus on learning spells from Myrrin. What’s he got you on?”

“We-We’re just starting,” Kaiser stuttered, face still pale, “he’ll be teaching me ‘Glow’ tomorrow.”

“Bah, tell him to forget ‘Glow’ and go right for ‘Spark’, and tell him I said so. You need some combat magic as soon as possible because dear boy, your efforts with the spear are still pathetic.”

Mikhail waved a hand in the air to cut him off before he could answer. “No, no time to protest, you know it’s true anyway. Now, the night is still young, and you have a lot to learn. Let’s get started right now. Fetch yourselves some chairs, or sit on the floor. We have a lot of doctrine to cover, and not much time. Let us begin.”