Alexander focused on the image in his mind. He pictured the villa garden lush and green, plants with stems bent over under the weight of their fruit. He imagined himself walking through the vines, running has hands along the leaves, feeling the weight of their fruit in his hands, the image becoming as clear as if seeing it with his own eyes and nearly replacing the sight of the wood and knife he held in his hands as he sat cross-legged on the ground. Careful not to break his concentration, Alexander took the knife and carved the words "Abundance" and "Produce" in the thin slice of wood, one word on each side.

With a sigh Alexander placed the engraved shingle carefully on a pile to his right. He stood to stretch his legs. The sun was high in the clear, blue sky. The villa garden was peaceful, quiet, a welcome refuge from the frantic activity of the prior day. Alexander was not sure if he had even slept the night before, the events of the day playing in his mind over and over. The sight of Simone lying on the ground, the faces of all the people shocked by her death, always coming back to the image of William charging at him. The dagger in the large man's hand, the frantic struggle to draw his own weapon while lying on his back in the dirt, the feeling as his Inquisition-forged blade punctured bone and found the smith's heart, the resistance as he withdrew his dagger from the man’s chest.

The young Inquisitor shook his head to clear his mind. He checked the sun. "Not quite noon," he thought to himself and then looked at the piles by his feet, "and I'm over halfway done."

Alexander sat back on the ground and took a fresh shingle in his hand and began to concentrate, this time on the fields surrounding the villa. The memory of his fight with William, intrusive as it had been since the previous evening, was unable to disturb Alexander's concentration on his task. He had always been a daydreamer, at least since he had arrived at the orphanage in Tariopolis. Perhaps he was a dreamer before then, but he had few clear memories of his life prior to the orphanage. He knew his parents were not wealthy, though not poor either, but they were taken by sickness and he remembered little of his life with them.

Life in the orphanage was not easy by any means but he was fed, clothed, and educated. He would often lay awake in his bed, long after the other boys in the dormitory had fallen asleep, imagining himself in all manner of scenarios. Sometimes he imagined his life if his parents hadn't died, or if they somehow came back, often dreaming that the physicians were mistaken and they hadn’t died and were searching for him all this time. He'd picture himself as the character in the stories he heard, or make up wild scenarios of traveling in an airship and single-handedly fending off a boarding party of sky-pirates. Often he was scolded by the teachers he drifted off into fantasy instead of paying attention to his lessons. Fortunately, he was able to learn discipline to apply himself to his studies well enough that he was not sold into slavery the year he turned thirteen. Many of his peers who did not show enough potential in skilled labor, military service, or academics were sold off to farmers or craftsmen who needed help with simple work. Alexander, though far from the best, showed enough merit to be worth keeping around for a couple more years for more advanced training and instruction.

Alexander often wondered if his vivid imagination was a result of his ability as a Caller or if it merely served it ever since Marcus first discovered his talent. Many children have vivid imaginations without the ability to reach out to the unseen forces that govern the world and manipulate them to bring their imaginings to reality. Shortly after bringing Alexander north from the Inquisition academy, Marcus brought his young apprentice into his study and sat the young man down. The older Inquisitor pulled out an old manual from Wollema on the training of Callers, what they called those with the gift of magic in that land. Marcus placed two identical candles in front of Alexander and lit them both simultaneously, taking one out of sight and instructing Alexander to imagine the candle burning hot, bright, fast. As soon as the flame sputtered out Marcus licked his fingers and snuffed the remaining candle, revealing it had only burned down by two-thirds.

Again, two identical candles were lit. This time, Alexander was instructed to imagine the candle burning but slowly this time. When the candle had burned down to its last fifth Marcus snuffed out the flame with his fingers, revealing that the other candle had burnt completely. "Take this, read it whenever you get a chance. Calling is too great a gift to ignore, but remember that you are an Inquisitor first," Marcus said as he handed Alexander the book, which the young Inquisitor had read multiple times over the next two years, always seeing some new thing he had overlooked in his prior readings.

Alexander finished his carving late in the afternoon. One of the men who worked for the villa would retrieve the piles and distribute the shingles to the other workers. A few would be buried in the ground beneath the garden, the rest would be buried deep in the fields and orchard. The magic would nourish the crops, encouraging a bountiful yield come harvest time. Alexander sometimes wondered what his life would be like if his gift had been discovered earlier but was glad it was Marcus who discovered it. Life in the north was generally slow and peaceful, events of the prior day notwithstanding. The far north was relatively untouched by the machines common in the south and central provinces of the empire, though metal and pistons and gears crept closer each year as progress marched inexorably onwards. If his gift had been discovered sooner he would no doubt have been sent to the College of Thaumaturgists, learning to employ his gift in supporting the Empire by enhancing the performance of machinery, increasing crop yields, possibly even directly stoking the steam engine of a ship in the Imperial air fleet.

"Hello, Inquisitor, all finished?" Chloe greeted Alexander as he entered the house.

"I am, hopefully we have another good year."

"I don't doubt that we will, not after what you did last year. I imagine you're hungry, not eating all day as you did. Dinner is still a little ways away from being done, I'm afraid. Marcus- apologies, I forget myself. The Inquisitor is in the study if you're looking for him."

"No need to be so formal, Chloe, Marcus of all people wouldn't mind if you called him by name, he thinks of you and everyone in this house as free."

"I know, still, best to practice proper manners in case we ever have visitors who'd take offense to a slave addressing her master too familiar."

Alexander made his way to the study and knocked gently on the door.

"Enter." Marcus called out from inside. Alexander opened the door and stepped inside.

"All finished?" Marcus asked, closing his book and placing it on the desk.

"I am, took me all day but it should be worth it in the end."

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"Excellent. Chloe will see to it that they get buried soon."

"What are you reading?"

"Oh, lots of different things. I realized this morning I've been neglectful in continuing to learn lately. Here, listen to this," Marcus said as he picked up a different volume from the desk and flipped through until he found the page he wanted.

"This is from 'A Collection of Folk Remedies and Cures in the North.' This part deals with all things related to conception and pregnancy, and this section is called 'A test for learning of pregnancy and determining the sex of the child.' Talks about having the potential mother urinate for three days on a bag of barley and wheat mixed together. If the barley sprouts, she'll have a son. If the wheat sprouts, a daughter, and if neither sprout she just needs to eat more chicken eggs to encourage her flow to return."

Marcus placed the book back down on the desk. "Had I read this before I would have known what the sack of barley was about and we wouldn't have needed Eugenia to tell us hours later."

"To be fair, you have little reason to be reading about pregnancy tests and ailments."

Marcus chuckled. "I suppose you're right, but even still, this just shows that you never know what piece of information will be useful. It's important to learn as much as you can, even things that don't seem useful and don't apply directly to yourself."

"By the way,” Marcus said after a short pause, “A messenger came by today while you were in the garden. The town council wants to speak to us tomorrow."

"Did they say what about?"

"No, but I imagine it's about what happened with Simone and William."

"I can't imagine they're happy about the loss of the town smith," Alexander began, "especially with no apprentice to take his place."

"Yes, people had been urging William to take on a new one ever since his son died but the man stubbornly refused to let anyone else replace his boy."

"If the council asks us about Simone," Alexander began slowly, "how much do we reveal?"

"We answer any questions they have truthfully and in full."

"Even if our answers about his daughter's conduct would shame Simeon before the council?"

Marcus took a deep breath and turned to his apprentice, studying him carefully.

"Alexander, what do you think about Simone? Her actions?"

The young Inquisitor blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you feel contempt for the girl?"

"I'm not sure if contempt is the right word. I mean, I pity her for the way she died. I know women are lustful and lack the discipline to control their appetites and emotions-"

"And how much discipline did William show, hmm? It's not as if Simone overpowered the smith and ravished him against his will."

"But she sold her body to him for what she thought was money."

"So William said. We do not have the truth of this matter, Alexander, we have only heard William's side of things. Simone died before she could tell us hers. One of the most important things for an Inquisitor to learn is that people rarely tell the full and unadulterated truth. Even if they aren't lying on purpose, people usually give versions of events that favor themselves or whichever position they want to be true."

"But didn't she attempt to trick Edwin the younger into laying with her so he'd think her baby was his?"

"So he said. Falsehood can never be condoned, but can you blame the girl for acting in fear? The world is not kind to girls in Simone's situation."

Marcus paused for a moment, thinking. "Do you know what William's punishment would have been if the affair had been discovered before Simone died? The council would have charged him a fine payable to Simeon to compensate him for how much the council believes Simone's marriage would have benefited her father. And do you know what Simone's punishment would have been?"

Alexander shook his head and Marcus continued. "Whatever Simeon wanted. Legally, she was his property. The best-case scenario for Simone would be getting married off to someone who didn't care about her past, likely a man whose family was too poor to be picky about brides. Otherwise, Simeon could sell her as a slave to be rid of her, he could have her stoned to death if he wanted. Or, since the child would be his property as well, he could raise it up until it was old enough to be sold as a slave, get some money out of the situation. Cruelest of all, I think, he could have his daughter carry the child in her body and go through the pain of labor only to force her to abandon it in the wilderness to the cold and hunger and beasts."

Alexander said nothing.

"Which of those fates do you think Simone believed awaited her, do you think? Seducing Edwin and convincing him to run away, thinking the child is his wouldn't be right, but fear can drive even the most principled person to take extreme measures."

Marcus scoffed and shook his head again. "Exposure, funny how that stuck around. Do you know where the practice of exposure comes from?"

Again, Alexander shook his head and said nothing.

"It's a practice centuries old, predates the Five Kingdoms period. You see, the ancient people would abandon infants who were unwanted, typically because they were sickly or had some defect or often just because they were girls. Leave them out in the wilderness to die. Except, not necessarily to die. See, before King Theskelos banned all worship of gods and spirits, people would take an unwanted baby on the ground and call out in a loud prayer to tell their gods they were renouncing their claim on the baby before leaving. Then, if the gods wanted the baby to live, they could claim it themselves or send some servant to rescue them. Theskelos outlawed the stories of the gods but the Inquisition has collected some fragments of the old tales. Their legends often featured children who were rescued by devout farmers or shepherds or even wild animals."

"Funny how we kept the practice centuries after the justification for it was outlawed. That's another lesson you should keep in mind; sometimes people, entire nations even, will simply go along with some act or tradition despite having no idea what it means or why it came about in the first place."

"Inquisitors! Dinner is ready, come get it while it's hot!" Chloe shouted from down the hall. Alexander could smell it and became aware of how very hungry he was.