“That’s all?” Hector asked me blankly as I finished recounting a summary of the negotiations and my interesting conversation with Dahl afterwards. “He accused you of mass murder and lying about your swords?”

“Yeah.”

Hector drank some more. “Huh.”

I shrugged. “Mass murder isn’t exactly a light accusation.”

“Sure, but he’s talking about in the West, and for Akuma. No one is going to be pressing charges on that.”

I gave him a dull look. “I don’t think that’s really the point.”

“It’s kind of the point. It’s the point for him. Nothing he brought up is actionable.”

“He’s just poking,” Ehud commented, the only one from my squad really paying attention at this point; the rest were engaged in what looked to be a very entertaining game of Bluff that Jair was presently winning, much to Tola’s chagrin. “Trying to get reactions, maybe get you to condemn yourself.”

“Again, what is he going to do about it? Even if you were this– who was it?”

“The name he gave was Kallish,” I said.

“Even if you were this Kallish person,” Hector continued, “who is going to charge you with anything? Akuma won the war, and, last I checked, doesn’t tend to run a bastion of justice over there.”

“I’m sure the Church could find some reason to murder me for committing war crimes, Hector,” I said a bit wryly. “That’s not really in question.”

“The Church could find some reason to execute you for pretty much anything though. Why bother trying to pin that on you?”

“Because he’s well liked,” Ehud offered a possibility. “They might need to tarnish his reputation first, to avoid backlash?”

“Mass murderer from the West seems like kind of a stretch for that,” Hector rebounded, and Ehud didn’t deny it.

I sighed. “I’m not really sure it matters. I’m sure we’ll find out what he’s planning soon enough, when he makes a move. He told me he wanted to speak to me again soon, so I’d imagine we’ll be finding out sooner than we like, honestly. We have more important things to worry about, though. How’s the investigation coming?”

Hector shrugged, leaning back in his chair in a slightly more relaxed fashion now that we were no longer talking about my private conversation with the High Inquisitor. “Not fantastic. No one wants to talk to us still. I briefly checked out the graveyard and spoke to Lord Ennis’ servants– he says hi, by the way– to see if we could pin down some dates for the disappearing coffins, but I didn’t have much luck. There’s no written records, and people’s memories are vague at best. It’s kind of depressing how mundane they find the burials to be at this point. It’s just part of their weekly routine.”

“I haven’t had much of a chance to do any more digging,” Ehud echoed Hector’s sentiment.

I gave him a bit of a look. “You didn’t have time?” I repeated.

“I am doing you a favor, Captain,” Ehud reminded me.

“Yeah, but what else do you have to do?”

Ehud smiled at me enigmatically and returned to watching the others in their game just in time for Jair to throw up her hands in a whoop of victory, having won yet another large pot.

Tola started cursing up a storm, Will glared, and Jehu finished his drink.

“So, what’d we miss?” Jehu asked, returning to our conversation.

“The High Inquisitor is potentially a slightly smarter prick than anticipated, and Ehud apparently has too many other things to do to be bothered trying to help me find a serial killer,” I summarized.

Ehud threw a grape at me.

“Where did you even get those?”

“Picked them up while I was doing my too many other things.”

I snorted bemusedly.

“So, do you have some kind of plan?” Will tugged the conversation back on track, also rejoining us while Jair and Tola continued quietly bickering in the background.

“I’m thinking we’ll go check out the graveyard again tonight, maybe watch it for a little while. Aside from that, I feel like we’ve hit a dead end until there’s another kidnapping.”

“That’s rather morbid,” Will noted, sipping her drink.

“We’re in the murder business, Will,” Hector responded. “Our lives are kind of morbid.”

“And on that chipper note,” I muttered. “I need to go pay for our drinks.”

“Oh! Oh, it’s that time again?” Jair asked, suddenly invested. “I cannot wait to throw things at you.”

I rolled my eyes while also smiling as I headed around to the back of the stage. Every so often, the innkeeper here at Hector’s place of lodging would request that I performed, as Turyn were known for doing, in exchange for free drinks for the night. We’d settled into something of a regular arrangement, at least during peacetime. I didn’t have my own lyre anymore, so I picked up the one I normally used from the back of the inn before heading out to the little stage-like area towards the front and sitting down.

There was no dramatic hush, but it did get slightly quieter as some people realized there was going to be music soon. I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to play; I normally didn’t. Most of the songs I knew were from the West, so they weren’t common up here, and I relied on that to keep things fresh.

I tuned the lyre while I thought before finally settling on something simple.

The song opened with a musical solo that carried the bulk of the story, really, setting the tone for something tragic. It wasn’t until nearly the end when the lyrics started, and then I began to quietly sing.

Stand broken, lost, and sacrificed,

Rejected by their better,

They’re sunken in forgotten lands,

And buried all together.

Now, changed and ruined for all time,

Fell down so far, the pit so deep.

A place, a race, that none would keep,

Save one who loved his children.

How deep this father’s love for them,

How vast beyond all measure.

He left his throne of gold for them,

And made the lost his treasure.

How great the pain of searing loss,

He turned his back on gods above,

He sacrificed it all for love,

The love of broken children.

Now father sits alone, below,

Stranded by the gods on high,

With no one there to calm his mind,

Or speak with as the years fly by.

Down in the depths below they lie,

Forgotten kin and father, lost.

For love, his mind, it was the cost,

Price paid for broken children.

It wasn’t a permitted story, wasn’t part of the lore carried by the Chantry. It came from a period of history that they liked to forget altogether or claim as myth, but the Turyn knew better. The words had been translated from the old Highborn tongue and then reformatted to rhyme in common, so it was a little clunky. It was somewhat intentionally vague so as not to be outright heresy while painting the story clearly enough. It was the tale of how Cyren abandoned the other Fates after they committed a crime against him and his people. It was a story the Chantry denied, for the Turyn and the Chantry carried very different mythos when it came to the Purge.

But it was a pretty melody, and it didn’t name the Fates specifically, so when I finished with a flourish and a minor chord, I received applause rather than calls to burn me at the stake, which was good.

I stood up and gave a little bow before departing off the stage to put the lyre back in its case behind the stage of the inn.

I heard someone enter behind me, but sometimes the innkeeper liked to meet me back here personally to thank me for providing the entertainment– or occasionally to not-so-subtly hint that I should play happier songs– so I didn’t turn.

“I thought you’d have better reflexes, Hand of Cyren.”

I paused for only a moment in carefully returning the lyre to its place before continuing to insure the instrument would remain secure. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked as I finished, slowly turning around.

I didn’t recognize the man instantly– I had never met him before– but after a quick scan through recent memories I identified him as the third man who had been in the Chantry’s landspeeder, the one who had not joined them at negotiations and the only one not wearing the Chantry insignia.

Up close, I could tell once again and with more certainty that he was most definitely a Westerner. He was only a bit taller than me, wore dark clothing, and had black hair and brown eyes that were almost so dark they could match. He was carrying a small gun, the kind that wouldn’t pack a punch through a shield or through any kind of enhanced armor but were generally favored for females for self-defense in the city. They would rip through clothes and flesh without issue and were easily concealed.

I leaned back against the wall casually, barely paying the pistol a second glance.

“I have an invitation for you,” the man said somewhat chipperly, reaching into his jacket to pull out an envelope marked with the seal of the Church, “from High Inquisitor Dahl. He requests your presence in his office at the Cathedral tomorrow at noon, so that you may speak over lunch.”

“And he sent a man with a gun to deliver it?” I asked, arching an eyebrow as I reached out to take the envelope. “He has an interesting way of making friends.”

“He sent a servant. I waylaid said servant and persuaded him to let me carry it the rest of the way.”

“Really? What prompted such reckless behavior?”

“I wanted to meet you! The great hero of Ildanach, the Hand of Cyren, the Bloody Knight of Akuma!”

“That last one is just a theory being tossed around by your boss,” I noted, “and one I would have thought he would have had the good sense to keep to himself considering his lack of proof.”

“Oh, that wasn’t his theory. It’s mine. And I am quite convinced.”

“Is that so?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I’ve been tracking your work,” the man said, somewhat disturbingly excited considering he apparently thought he was talking to a mass murderer and war criminal. “Who else could have won the war for Akuma?”

“Once again, kind of offended on behalf of everyone else that you people seem to think I’m the only person on the continent who knows how to fight.”

“Not the only person who knows how to fight, but the only one in recent memory who makes death into an art.”

“I think you might have some problems.”

“Deny it all you want, but do you know how the Bloody Knight of Akuma was described by onlookers?”

“Terrifying and having a mask? All that does is confirm that we’re both Turyn who can be scary.”

“Graceful.”

The answer was so unexpected that it gave me pause, recoiling just a hint from him at the proclamation.

“Obviously, yes,” the stranger continued, “they also described you as terrifying, horrible, an omen of death descended upon the world like a punishment from the gods themselves. But when you got past all that, they said it was a like watching a dance. Soldiers don’t dance.”

“Learning how to perform is part of the Turyn Code. I would imagine it lends us all a sense of grace on the battlefield,” I said slowly.

“You are very insistent.”

“As are you. I am not Kallish, and you aren’t going to trick me into saying I am.”

The man regarded me for a moment, something akin to disappointment flashing through his eyes before being followed by puzzlement, a reaction that I admittedly could not explain. “I’m not trying to trick you into admitting anything. I have no wish to see you hang. I simply wanted to express my appreciation of your work.”

“Of the Bloody Knight’s work.”

“Of your work. All of it.” He smiled at me enigmatically before suddenly bowing. “I am but your humble servant.”

“Bowing to a Turyn as a member of the Chantry. Your boss can’t be too pleased about that.”

“Oh, I’m not part of the Chantry,” the man laughed. “Dahl is just another employer, of which I have had many. Soon, I’m sure he too will slip into the Abyss.”

I blinked. “That’s… an interesting way of phrasing that.”

“I have been called an interesting person on occasion, Captain.”

“I’d prefer to call you by your name.”

He laughed. “Keric. My name is Keric Thurien. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Kazere. I hope to see you again soon.”

With another short bow, he left the backstage area while I was still trying not to make a face at him calling me “Lord Kazere”; it brought back bad memories.

I looked down at the invitation in my hand and then tucked it into my coat before returning to the table with my squad.

“Depressing song,” was how Jehu greeted me as I sat back in my seat.

“Why don’t you ever play anything happy?” Jair moaned.

“I do sometimes,” I objected.

“You sing about war sometimes and winning it,” Jair argued. “Or losing it! But it’s still not happy either way.”

“Winning wars isn’t happy?”

“It’s victorious. Upbeat, but not the same sentiment,” Ehud answered as Jair paused to drink.

“Well…. Sorry?” I attempted.

Jair snorted slightly into the bubbles of her drink. “But let me guess– you’re still not going to play anything happy?”

“I don’t think happy is actually what you’re looking for,” Hector said bemusedly. “I think you’re looking for a drinking song.”

“Those are happy!”

Several of us chuckled.

“I’m afraid I don’t know any of those,” I said honestly.

“I am sure that someone of your great and many talents could figure it out,” Jair said a bit snidely.

I didn’t deny it, shrugging and taking a drink of water. “I’m going to head back to my place for a bit before we check out the graveyard. Meet you all there at nightfall?”

Jair scoffed and waved me off.

Tola grumbled, but the others all gave me some measure of affirmative.

“See you there, boss,” Will said with a grin.

I smiled back at my second before leaving the bar and heading towards the outer ring of the city, pulling out the invitation as I walked and running my fingers briefly over the seal.

I liked your song choice.

I snorted softly at the voice sliding into my mind and looked up to find Teris flying above, but his eyes were glowing violet rather than their normal colorless black void.

I suppose I’ll be glad that someone did. Do you know anything about that guy? Keric?

I know a lot of things about a lot of people.

I rolled my eyes. You’re not very helpful.

You remain living; our bargain stretches no farther than that. There was a short beat. You should be nicer to Teris.

I’m not not nice to Teris.

I got the distinct impression of my conversation partner arching an eyebrow at me.

I’m not… mean to Teris, I amended.

The voice scoffed. Be nice. And watch your back. You might not be the only one around with a deal with higher powers anymore.

I frowned. What does that mean?

But the presence in my mind had shrunk back to its normal level of unobtrusiveness and a quick glance upward again told me that Teris’ eyes had gone back to normal.

I don’t suppose you know what your boss was talking about? I poked at the bird a bit irritably.

He told you to be nicer to me.

I rolled my eyes and gave up, going back to the invitation in my hand. The script inside was ornate and flowing, yet the content was direct and to the point– written directly by Dahl, I guessed. He wanted me to join him for lunch the following day, just as Thurien had said.

Thurien was an interesting fellow, I had to admit despite myself, probably one of the more interesting people I’d ever met. In another life, we probably could have gotten along, if only he weren’t quite so nosey. Or working for the Chantry that wanted me dead.

I was still thinking about the invitation, and wondering about what the right move would be in relation to it, when I walked through the doors of the inn. Somehow it caught me by surprise yet again when I found Avaline sitting in front of the fire, quietly reading a book.

She looked up and smiled when I walked in the room. “Leon. How did things go with Aeron?”

I shrugged. “They… went,” I said a bit blandly. “It’s too soon to tell. Did you get out into the city?”

“I did. It is beautiful, as you said. I didn’t go terribly far, however; I’m a bit concerned I will find myself lost.”

“It is rather big,” I conceded, though I had personally almost forgotten how daunting such a size could be to someone who had spent their life living in the countryside. The Akuma Empire was so much larger and less orderly, sprawling in every conceivable fashion, that Ildanach nearly seemed small and quaint to me now. “I have work tonight, but tomorrow morning I would be most honored to show you around,” I reiterated my earlier promise before finding myself grudgingly adding on, “although I do have a lunch engagement, unfortunately.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“I’m generally quite the early riser, so feel free to join me here in the common area at your leisure tomorrow then.”

“Thank you, I shall.” She paused. “Do you not expect your work to keep you late?”

I was briefly thrown by the question. “I’m not sure, honestly. Why?”

“Well, it seems you wouldn’t want to rise so early if that were the case.”

I breathed a faint laugh. “Your concern is touching, but I assure you that I will be fine.”

She narrowed her eyes at me slightly before shrugging. “Very well.”

The conversation could easily have been over, but it wasn’t like I had anything better to do until sundown, so I took a seat across from her near the fire and looked a little closer at her book. “May I ask what you’re reading?”

“Oh! They’re just children’s tales.” She seemed slightly embarrassed. “We didn’t have an abundance of books at home.”

“Do you read them then only because they are what’s available or do you enjoy them nevertheless?”

She hesitated.

“There’s no shame in enjoying old tales.”

“They’re for children.”

“They’re historical legends; that’s not just for children.”

She smiled at me, as though thanking me for justifying her taste.

“Also, you can like whatever you want regardless.”

Ava smiled at me a little sadly. “Not everyone feels that way.”

“Well, screw them,” I’d had my fill of diplomacy for the day. “It’s your life– or, more specifically, they’re your preferences, and they’re not doing any harm to you or anyone else.”

Her eyes widened a bit in surprise and then after a moment she chuckled quietly. “I suppose so. Is that how you live? Not caring how others view or think of you?”

“Obviously there’re always some exceptions to that kind of thinking,” I prefaced, “but it’s rather difficult to be a Turyn in these parts if you put too much weight on other people’s opinions of you.”

“You’re a hero though. Turyn or not.”

“True. Now. You think they looked so kindly on me when I first walked into the city? Why do you think the Hand of Cyren, or whatever, has a room in the outermost ring?”

“I figured you like the atmosphere,” she said with a coy smile.

The response took me off guard and startled a laugh from me. “I do,” I admitted. “Still, I really wasn’t welcome in the inner city when I first arrived. I’ve stayed because Berd’s hospitality is legendary.”

Ava smiled. “It is a very nice place. Unexpectedly so, considering, as you said, it is in the outermost ring.”

“Ildanach is that kind of city,” I admitted, some of my fondness for the place seeping through in my words. “After all, the outer ring here is good enough that a noble is willing to make it his home.”

“One of the minor lords lives out here?” Ava said in surprise.

I blinked and then realized she must have gone directly into the middle ring during her exploration earlier today; Ennis’ Manor was hard to miss if there was any time spent in this particular section of the city. “Not a minor lord, actually. He’s the head of the Transportation Guild.”

Ava’s eyes widened. “He must be an interesting sort to make his home here among the less fortunate.”

“He likes being close to the gate and forests so he can better monitor his shipments, but yes. He is interesting.” Speaking of Ennis suddenly reminded me of the two tickets he had given me to a Turyn play, still sitting in the pocket of my coat. I looked at Ava a bit longer and then figured, well. Why not? “Actually, speaking of Lord Ennis, he gave me open tickets to one of the Turyn performances in the central ring. I expect they’ll probably be moving out soon with the increased Church presence, so if I want to take advantage of them, it will have to be soon. Would you have any interest in attending one with me tomorrow night?”

Ava blinked at me in surprise. “Truly? You don’t have… anyone else you’d rather take?”

I smiled. “Well, I mean, I could bring Hector, but he eats all the snacks,” I said lightly.

She giggled and then considered me for a moment before nodding. “That sounds delightful.”

I grinned. “Fantastic. They usually have multiple showings, so I’ll check on their location and exact times while we’re out tomorrow morning. Like I said, I do have a lunch engagement, but I’ll make it up to you with dinner and then we can go to the show.”

“Sounds like a date,” Avaline said softly, looking up at me carefully as though measuring my response.

“Well, I don’t know what else you’d call it,” I agreed with a wink.

“You’re not what I expected,” Ava said.

“What, from the legends of the ‘Lion of Ildanach’?” My distaste for the title remained evident in my tone, and I resolved to make sure that wasn’t what the Turyn performance tomorrow was about; I wasn’t sure if Ennis had been serious about them doing plays based on me or not.

“I realize it was silly of me to think I could know you as a person from those, but even so.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I conceded. “I’m never what anyone expects.”

“Well, in this particular instance, I think the reality has been better than the expectation,” Ava said with a smile.

I smiled back. “Weren’t expecting much, were you?”

Ava breathed a laugh. “I was expecting less… personable. More caught up with yourself, I suppose. I felt it would hard not to be with a reputation such as yours.”

“Oh, I’m plenty arrogant. I actually feel a bit bad if I’ve somehow deceived you into think I’m not.”

“Arrogant and full of yourself aren’t quite the same thing.”

I shrugged, conceding the point. “So I’ve just managed to be less narcissistic than you had imagined. You really didn’t think very highly of me from the reputation.”

“I thought you would be amazingly competent. I just thought you would have more startlingly impersonable flaws to go along with it,” she admitted, laughing softly at herself.

I chuckled along with her. “I suppose that seems fair. So instead, I’ve proven myself less amazingly competent but at least also more personable.”

“Well, it’s hard to say on the competency front. A truce was mysteriously called the very morning I arrived.”

“Ah, peace. Always getting in the way of the proper evaluation of men.”

Avaline laughed. “It’s just the worst,” she agreed jokingly. “After all, I generally make it a habit never to date anyone unless I’ve seen them singlehandedly defend a city in combat. I suppose I’ll have to take your reputation for it just this once.”

“Your generosity astounds, my lady,” I said with a grin, and then, on a whim, scooped up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I appreciate you giving me the chance.”

She blushed and seemed to suddenly be at a loss for words, the abrupt tonal change apparently and not unreasonably having taken her off guard.

So I stood, taking the pressure off and letting her hand fall. “Alas, it seems my free time is expiring. It was lovely to see you again, Lady Norel. I look forward to tomorrow.” I bowed and headed for the stairs.

“Until tomorrow,” she echoed, regaining her voice as I walked away.

Berd gave me a look that I ignored on my way up the stairs.

It was time to try to solve some murders now.