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Chapter 142 - Lust

Feeling faint from the abrupt psychic attack, Exill backed away from the railing and stumbled down the stairwell in a state of panic, trying to put as much distance between himself and the procession.

If the Church had a way to detect Aberrations like himself, he had to leave now, tonight at the latest. Only when the door of his Clinic latched behind him did some semblance of reason begin to take shape.

‘I forgot about Envy and Tsarra’ he belatedly thought.

Cradling his head in both arms against the counter, Exill took several deep breaths, and sorted his thoughts out one by one.

‘The bug-out bag containing essentials for four days travel is prepared in my room.’ he assured himself.

‘I’m going to leave Tsarra behind, and since I can’t free Envy yet, she must flee with me. That means I need to wait for her return and ensure everything is packed up and good to go...’ He briefly wondered if Envy would refuse to leave with him, but quickly dismissed the thought as an unnecessary complication. There was no question that freedom was the highest priority in her mind.

Once he had gathered all of his and Envy’s meagre belongings in one place, there was only one thing left to do, and that was to wait. A fresh notarized contract had also been prepared, that would overwrite the vow of secrecy with Tsarra. This would allow her to cooperate with the Church and lead a semblance of a normal life – here in Ark. A sense of finality and calm descended upon him, with a smattering of regret over the farewells he couldn’t share.

‘If the Church had a way to detect me, why have they brought it out only now?’ the intrusive thought knocked the breath out of him for a moment.

‘The Inquisitor suspects I am some Eldritch Abomination, and he would have brought out the big guns; like the Elderwood staves the Bishops were carrying, or that maleficent eye that the Oracle wields.’

Remembering how all the staves pointed at the Labyrinth Tower, containing the greatest Aberration in the region, Exill breathed out a sigh of relief. ‘Maybe only the Oracle’s Eye is sensitive enough to detect my presence, and she is covering for me, at least, I would like to believe so.’

He didn’t know how extensive the Church’s arsenal of detection equipment was, but he knew Deroch. He suspected the Inquisitor had already tried to detect him using a Bishop, perhaps by walking past the Clinic at night time. The greatest unknown factor was the Oracle. He couldn’t perceive her motives and he doubted the wily Inquisitor did either.

Exill was startled out of his thoughts when the door was unlatched from the outside and Tsarra and Envy entered the hallway, similarly startled by all the belongings out on the counter.

“Are you going somewhere?” Tsarra asked in a suspicious tone, noticing that only her belongings had been excluded from the pile.

“Ah…” Exill improvised, “I had a talk with Perg this afternoon and he wanted me to go to Brieshire to fill in for a Healer for two weeks. It is a picturesque town with a brewing industry just two days by fast coach from here… he offered to pay me 2000 Denars. I just wanted to check if we had everything ready to go.” He winded the speech down, remembering he had a tendency to get wordy whenever he was lying.

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“So you were thinking of leaving without me?” Tsarra asked, noticing his sentences had grown longer.

“I-I haven’t accepted the posting yet if that’s what you’re asking! Even if I did, you are more than capable of holding your own here. We only travelled together last time because our lives were in danger. Things are different now.” Exill bit his lip to stop talking.

Tsarra felt hurt that he did all this without even consulting her, and retreated to the treatment room and softly closed the door behind her. Exill stood still for a moment, torn between chasing after her, or explaining to Envy their situation when a sudden epiphany struck him.

‘Why didn’t I think of using the rune throwing bones?’ he thought belatedly.

He had tried to wean himself off the divination tools, much like an addict would, knowing how much harm they could do with the wrong questions. Locking himself inside his room, he channelled mana into the throwing bones and asked the question:

‘Am I in danger in Ark.’

The runes flashed impossibly fast, but their meaning was simple and clear. There was no present danger in Ark threatening him. Feeling somewhat relieved, he channelled mana into the bones and asked a different question:

‘Will I be in danger at Brieshire?’

The runes flashed faster than before, if that was even possible. Even using Chronomancer’s [Haste] he could grasp a fragment of what they were communicating. It felt like they were saying there simultaneously was, and there wasn’t, only a looming pitfall awaited him down that path.

‘I guess that makes things clear.’ He thought, checking the answers a few more times.

After a while, he climbed down the stairs and knocked on Tsarra’s door. She was lying on her belly on the patient’s examination table. A soft bedroll was unfurled over the surface while she read ‘Herbalist Koncoctions’ by lamplight. She had yet to change out of her favourite teal dress and studiously ignored him.

“Did you have a good time today?” he finally asked.

“Maybe. The Royal Family was a bit underwhelming.” She replied in an unfamiliar tone. The silence stretched out uncomfortably until she tenderly closed the book and turned to look at him, her gentle jade eyes looked troubled.

“Was that elf healer your mentor?”

“In many ways yes. To be more specific her grandmother Old Savta was my mentor, and she was her granddaughter and fellow apprentice.”

“Did you love her?”

Exill’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the sudden question, rendering him speechless. ‘Did I love her?’ he reflected, allowing the seconds to pass by, ‘and what is love?’ he thought.

“If I truly loved her... I would have figured out a way to stay beside her and keep her happy.” He admitted after a while.

“Are you going to Brieshire without me?” she asked, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

“No… my runes indicated there was some danger there.”

“Good.” she replied and surprised him by wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a light embrace and a quick peck on his cheek. “Thank you for today.”

Exill was taken aback, pleasantly so. They had held their distance since the accidental kiss, and he hadn’t realised how much he missed her shy affection.

Her arms lingered around his shoulder, and she was too close, the breath from her soft parted lips warmed his chin. The fading sensation on his cheek leaving him wanting more. Maybe she sensed the willingness in his eyes. Not knowing where she drew the courage from, Tsarra inched closer and pressed her lips against his.

Feeling him melt under her advances, she began to nibble on his lower lip. Tenderly at first, then with more bite. The slight moan escaping his breath only emboldened her, pulling him tighter, leading him to the bed.

Releasing her pent-up passion, she squeezed his waist with her thighs, crossing her feet behind his back. Her dress had ridden up and one sleeve was slipping off her shoulders, but she didn’t care and hung on as she expressed her desire and affection.

“Haah!”

She stifled a moan when something hard pressed against her. Realizing what it was, she quickly pushed him away, breathing heavily as guilt overwhelmed her.

“Envy… we can’t do it” she panted.