CHAPTER 122

It was the first snow of the year, and the city lay wrapped in stunned silence.

The humid ocean air rolled past the docks where burly men in leather vests unloaded cargo from four other continents, past the wharfs’ gambling dens, whore’s cribs, and hells, past the warehouses, into the Merchant’s Quarter where shopkeepers usually cried their wares. It seethed past them, moving through the Noble’s Quarter, past the titanic gothic edifice known as the Miskatonik, the home of all mages of the empire.

The heavy, moisture-laden wind met the Garrison, where the best warriors were drilled and shaped into an indomitable fighting force, somehow reaching further heights of martial prowess. It even reached past the Alstroemeria, the Grand Cathedral of the Anglish Empire; heading north, heading inland.

That thick, heavy moisture-laden air met the algid winds from the north, and thick clumps of snow and soggy frozen ice fell from the sky.

Everything in the city seemed balanced on a razor-thin precipice. All around the city, it was if everyone held their breath... waiting. All of life can be broken down into moments of transition or moments of revelation. This had the feeling of both.

It was the first snow of the year, but shock and disbelief had already frozen the capital. No one could define it, apprehend its shape, and so they were silent, incapable of conceiving anything but the vacuous gap in their hearts and minds. No one gave voice to it, because it could not be voiced. No one gave words to it, because it had no definition.

The world, in some indefinable but tangible way, had changed so shockingly, so swiftly, that all across the capital, there was only the hushed, almost sacred stillness that slowed everyones’ step. Inevitably, eventually, eyes were drawn to the Grand Cathedral. Not once, sometimes not even consciously, but they were drawn.

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? No one could tell, the numbing horror, the shock had all but rooted everyone to the spot.

For the first time in nearly eight hundred years, the Golden Lady, the Goddess of the Dawn, the Light of Spring, had selected one of the devout to be Her Saint, Her Champion, Her Emissary to Her people. That was enough for most. The light of the world had returned, the beloved Goddess had not abandoned them, her face had once again turned towards the people that worshipped her.

A wave of miracles had seemingly burst from the Alstroemeria, spreading, covering the capital. Diseases cured, wounds healed, sight and hearing restored. Grudges were forgotten, old hates evaporated.

Bearing the cheers and ribbons and passions and brilliant dreams buoyed by hope, the Blessed Saint rose from the city to do her duty, to champion the cause of the Lady of Spring. Everyone was happy. Everyone celebrated. Bells pealed in the streets every day. Sacred candles and incense were lit; promises from the finest, most prominent sculptors were given and accepted. The Saint would be immortalized forever, dressed in the finest marble.

For a time, everyone looked to the dawn of the morning sun as a promise. Hope renewed.

And then, shockingly, stunningly, unbelievably, the broken body of their beloved Saint was carried into the Alstroemeria, and enshrined in the Temple of the Lily.

Soon, the questions would be asked. Soon the horror would be given shape. Soon people would ask the unvoiced fear, the terror with no voice of its own: How could this have happened?

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Sasaki was eating when the paladin accosted her.

"I need you to tell them I can do this. That I can be the Living Saint’s apprentice." The armored woman urged straightaway.

Sasaki eyed the woman from across the table, and then recalling her first meeting with Katarina, sneered. "Not even a dilettante of the social graces, are you?" She observed acidly. "Not so much as a ‘Good afternoon’ or ‘Let me introduce myself’, just straight to whatever it is that you want." She finished.

Armilla stared quizzically at Sasaki, baffled as she tried to work over what the other woman had said.

Sasaki rolled her eyes. "I am Sasaki of the Long Blade, Initiate Witch Hunter." She introduced herself challengingly. "I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of introductions with you before." she offered, her voice dry and mocking.

"Kuroyuki, daughter of Sasaki." A voice suddenly appeared as if by magic from Sasaki’s left, startling the paladin. She hadn't even noticed Sasaki's companion. "Likewise, I haven’t the pleasure of being introduced." the dark-robed woman announced, adjusting her seating next to Sasaki on the bench.

Armilla’s eyes flicked between the two Yamato women. "You know who I am." She insisted.

"I’ve heard of you, yes." Sasaki replied, eyeing her food. "And there was a brief time in Landeck where we were in the same room together, but we were never formally introduced." She added.

"I have not heard of you." Kuroyuki replied. "Should I have?"

Armilla sighed. "I am Armilla Chancy, of House Chancy. I am a Paladin and former Apprentice Witch Hunter." She replied as if by rote.

"Apprenticed to whom?" Kuroyuki asked curiously.

"Kuro-chan, that’s rude." Sasaki remarked in the Yamato tongue.

Armilla sighed. "The Living Saint."

Kuroyuki tilted her head. "Who might that be?" She asked curiously.

"Kuro, it’s bad manners to speak the name of the Living Saint aloud." Sasaki admonished her, switching to Anglish.

"My forgiveness, mother." She replied with a slight bow to the other woman. She turned to Armilla once more. "What is it you wish from us?"

"She wants us to intercede with the Book on her behalf. She wants to reclaim her position as Herald to the Living Saint." Sasaki replied to Kuroyuki, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

"Why should she need us to intercede?" Kuroyuki asked curiously. "The city proper is not far. If she wishes to herald the name of the Living Saint into the streets, would it not be simpler to ... do so?" She asked, a touch of naivete in her voice.

"No, I want a second chance. I want to be an apprentice." Armilla replied testily.

"The way I hear it, Kat-" Sasaki cut herself off, "The Living Saint gave you dozens of chances."

Armilla sighed again.

"I want to know everything that was done in your investigation and pursuit of the Witch, Alsabet Pavlenko." Sasaki replied steadily. "Facts, details, theories. Where you went, who you spoke to." She offered, as if if were conditional as a trade.

Kuroyuki raised an eyebrow, but since she wasn’t specifically asked, she subsided.

"Will you at least talk to them?" Armilla whined.

Sasaki smiled, remembering a conversation she had with Katarina.

"It won’t hurt your chances." She replied steadily.

Armilla nodded, and launched into her tale.

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Armilla started with Alsabet's file, the trek through the forests, the assault on a mages' fortress, the slaying of a Witch and the savage encounter with what she believed to be a Major Demon. Armilla and Katarina had given chase after a second mage, believed to be Alsabet, Katarina's sister. They'd encountered a mage of significant power on one of the Empire's own Skyships north of Begierde and after resupplying, struck north, hoping to find the Witch. Their search had led them to Landeck, the southernmost city in the Nauders Duchy. There, Katarina began gathering intel, but left Armilla in Landeck while she continued the pursuit alone.

Sasaki eyed Kuroyuki at that, but her strange daughter said nothing.

"So then Katarina left you at the temple of Landeck and traveled south, where she ran into that awful village." Sasaki summarized, and shuddered. "Loathsome place. Creepy doesn’t even begin to describe it." She tapped a finger against her lips meditatively. "I’ll hate to go back to that place, but if we have to go there to find a clue to Alsabet’s whereabouts, I suppose we have no choice." She began arranging the food on her plate. "The fastest way I see we can go is to Translate to Landeck again, and maybe..." She trailed off. "Ugh. Horses. I hate horses." She moaned and then let out a disconsolate sigh and tossed her fork onto the table with a vexed sigh. "Oh, the indignity." She complained.

A young man in the gear of a Forest Warden approached the table where the three of them conferred. He saluted the three, fist to heart, and eyed Sasaki specifically.

"Initiate Sasaki?" He asked, and Sasaki glanced up at him.

"Yes?" She asked, and the man nodded.

"Ranger Dillon." he offered by way of introduction. "It's time."

Kuroyuki glanced at Sasaki in curiosity, but Sasaki put a restraining hand on her daughter's arm.

"Very well." Sasaki agreed, and stood up. She eyed Armilla. "We'll continue this talk later."

She gestured to the ranger. "Lead on."

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As Sasaki followed the young Warden, she kept eyeing the man speculatively. What did he mean by "It's time"? Certainly, if she waited, the answers to her questions would be revealed, but she was impatient.

"What exactly is it time for?" She finally asked, giving in to her curiosity.

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Dillon barked a laugh at that. "The worst-kept secret of Witch Hunters, obviously." He replied, but sobered up at the smaller woman's nonplussed expression. He sighed, and slowed his pace a fraction so the smaller woman could keep up at the same time she increased her pace to match his.

"Have you not heard of the Worg Project?" He asked, and Sasaki shook her head. "I haven't." She replied.

"Strange." He muttered. "It's usually the talk of the Witch Hunter classes."

Sasaki shook her head. "I haven't been a part of the regular classes. I'm ..." She paused, trying to decide how to explain it, "Somewhere between an Initiate and an Apprentice. They can't seem to decide if I'm one or the other, so I've been getting tested by Cyrillus, Nadette, and Lady Inquisitrix Elenore lon Straub." she explained finally, and Dillon nodded sagely.

"It makes sense that you haven't heard of it, then." He replied, and gestured to a horse-drawn carriage. "I'll explain on the way."

Sasaki climbed into the carriage, and Dillon followed after.

"The average Witch Hunter ..." He trailed off, but then continued, "has a lifespan of about two years." He paused again, searching for the words. "The Worg Project was something developed to try and extend that." He explained, and then asked her a question. "Have you ever heard of Dire Wolves?" He asked, and Sasaki shook her head.

"Well, that'll make this harder to explain..." He mutted to himself. "On the other hand, perhaps the Handler will be able to explain it better."

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The Kennels were a massive, walled off enclosure just outside the city, and ecapsulated several acres of forest. The 'Handler' turned out to be a slightly overweight man in simple leathers.

What roamed the grounds of the kennels made Sasaki pull up short. They were... her first reaction was to drop her shoulder so that her sword dropped from her shoulder to her hand.

"These blasphemies are your creations?" She asked the man warily.

"Blasphemies? Hardly. They’re called ‘Worgs’ or ‘Dire Wolves’." He remarked with indifference.

Sasaki eyed with beasts with an air of distaste. The things looked like wolves, or perhaps what a crazed or simple mind might envision a wolf might look like, but there the comparison ended. Roughly the size of a small horse or a pack pony, they were massive specimens of their wolf cousins, with bone spurs erupting from the shoulders and down the spine. Their jaws were filled with a multitude of jagged fangs.

"And what, pray tell, could the Empire of the Golden Lady want or need with such things?" She asked, and the man laughed, eyeing the woman.

"Witch Hunter, right?" He guessed, and Sasaki nodded.

"Sasaki, Apprentice Witch Hunter." She replied by way of introduction.

"I see." He remarked thoughtfully. "Haven’t been here to the capital in some time, is it?" He guessed again, and Sasaki nodded with an impatient cranking gesture, urging him to go on.

"This is the latest program to extend Witch Hunter survivability and usefulness." He replied, rising from his squatting position and knuckling his back with a sigh.

"Usefulness?" She asked skeptically.

"Poor choice of words, I suppose." He replied simply. "Your average Witch Hunter has an average life expectancy of two years, give or take." The Wolf he had been tending eyed the two of them, eyes switching back and forth between the two, as if following the conversation with an unafraid curiosity that was unnerving to the novitiate Witch Hunter. "The Worg Program aims to increase their survivability."

He leaned against the kennel with his elbows. "They’re intelligent, and can understand complex commands. They can run about as fast as a human on horseback," He paused "though I would never recommend doing so at long distances," He added, and then continued, "and can dash for short distances much faster than that." He examined his hands. "How far did you test on the Lucianus Scale?" He asked, and Sasaki shrugged.

"Charcoal, though I don’t understand how that’s relevant." She replied indifferently. His eyes widened at that.

"Charcoal!" He blurted. "You’d be perfect-" He caught himself. "No... no." He muttered, eyeing Sasaki. "I don’t think you’d do too well with the Worgs." He waved his hand in negation along with a shake in his head. "You say you're an Apprentice, but it's pretty obvious you've had more than your fair share of fighting." He guessed. "I can see you've probably got too much experience." He let out a dolorous sigh.

"I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage." Sasaki replied, confused.

The man sighed. "Do you have a pet? Have you ever had a pet?"

Sasaki shook her head. There was simply no way that something like a 'pet' would be allowed on the House grounds, and she said as much to the man.

He shook his head again at this pronouncement. "Pairing with a Worg is best done when both are young. You see, a Worg is not ‘just a pet’, and it’s certainly not a ‘tool’." He made a face. "And I doubt you’d miss the loss of your horse the way you’d miss the loss of a Dire Wolf."

He turned to the kennel. "Perhaps... perhaps I should show you, and maybe it would be the best way for you to understand."

He whistled and called into the Kennel.

"Chershi!"

A slightly larger, and obviously much more mature wolf eyed him and Sasaki with what the Witch Hunter was certain was a noble sort of disdain, the kind that said, "I am here by my sufferance, not yours."

As an aside, he gestured to Sasaki. "Over here, and kneel down. Let her smell you. That’s the first part." he encouraged in a low voice. "She’s the matriarch."

Sasaki obliged him, and dropped to one knee. The matriarch of the worgs gave him a cursory sniff, and obviously unimpressed, approached Sasaki and gave her a few investigatory sniffs.

"Well, she hasn’t killed you. That’s a good sign." The man encouraged.

"It’s been known to happen?" Sasaki asked, as the horse-sized wolf loomed over her.

"It’s ... not talked about often." He admitted. "Now put your hand on her head, between her ears. Carefully. Don’t want to be seen as a threat."

Sasaki dutifully followed his request. The wolf’s fur was thick, somewhat wiry with the outer coat, soft and cottony with the undercoat.

"Now, using your mind, try and ‘reach out’ to Chershi." He urged. "There aren’t many who can do this, but the fact that you tested ‘charcoal’ is a promising sign. Just think in your mind, an introduction, as if you were speaking in your mind to her."

Sasaki’s heart churned at this instruction. What sort of instruction was this? I am Sasaki, Apprentice Witch Hunter of the Golden Lady. She thought, and the Dire Wolf’s gaze sharpened. There was a strange feeling, feather-light, that felt as if fingers danced lightly against her scalp.

Many moons of hunting in your heart. There was a pause. Too many. The wolf, apparently satisfied, got up and strolled into the warren of kennels with stately grace.

"...huh." The man observed. "What did she say?"

"Too many years of hunting." Sasaki replied. He nodded. "I suspected as much. We bond the whelps and Witch Hunters that make it to Apprentice-level, and the pair grow together." He paused. "Like siblings, though I suppose it’s more like marriage." He paused again. "But the long and short of this program is that the DIre Wolf will help the Witch Hunter. They’re trained in hunting and tracking skills, and ways of taking down an opponent." He took one of his hands, help it at waist-level. "The Worg offers a greater chance of survival to the Witch Hunter." He held out his other hand. "The Witch Hunter gains a valuable ally and trusted friend. The bond is quite unbreakable." He clasped his hands together. "But we can’t bond an inexperienced Worg with you because you are too advanced, and a Dire Wolf too new. Not enough trust on either side, you see." He explained. "Judging from Chershi, even an experienced Dire Wolf will reject you, as well."

"Why?" Sasaki asked, curiously. He shrugged.

"Any number of reasons. You didn’t grow up together, for one. Two seasoned and experienced warriors constantly questioning each other’s tactics." He paused. "It’s a deeply intimate connection the two of you would share." He added. "If you were to die, then by necessity we would have to put down the Worg."

He eyed her. "They would just go mad with the loss, Witch Hunter." He paused. "The other way ‘round- if your Worg died, then the feedback would drive you mad, if it didn’t kill you outright." He shook his head sadly. "You would have to be confined, drugged, and it would take a great deal of therapy just to be up and moving around." He spread his hands disarmingly. "Not ideal for one of your experience."

Sasaki nodded her agreement. She was also certain she would not want to be in constant mental communion with those things. They weren’t human. To her, it was unnatural. In a way it made sense, but to her it was simply abhorrent.

"Have you always been the Handler for these... Dire Wolves?" She asked, and he nodded. "That's right."

Sasaki considered her question before asking. "Did Her Radiance ever have a Dire Wolf?" She asked, and he blinked at the question.

"Her Radiance-" He began, but nodded to himself. "You mean her." he responded with some significance. Sasaki nodded.

He compressed his lips together and looked away. "She did. I was against it. There were..." he paused, uncertain of what to say, but moved on; "circumstances with her that made it unwise for her to pair with a Worg at the time." He raised his hands, and then let them fall. "But I was told to do so, and I followed orders." He shook his head and sighed, and hung his head as he propped himself against the wall.

"She-" He cut himself off. "The Worg she was paired with died shortly after." He shook his head. "The bond didn't take, I think. I don't really know. A ... meaningless waste." He complained quietly. "The Empire should care about the Witch Hunters." He offered, but shook his head. "Just as I look after these pups." He shook his head. "A meaningless waste."

He looked up at Sasaki. "You've got too much experience under your belt to take a whelp, and the older ones wouldn't take to you, anyway." He stated. "There's no point for you to be here."

Sasaki went over what she'd seen at the kennels in her mind several times as the carriage made its way back into the city. The man was right. Sasaki had been fighting as a duelist since she was fourteen. Even though she'd only just become a Witch Hunter, she'd been through many different fights, ranging from the flashy, showy duels she'd fought in the dojos of her homeland, to common street fights and even through the continent of Hesperia. She had her sword, she had her rifle, and she had her strange daughter, Kuroyuki. More, she had a job to do: If she could track down and slay Alsabet, she could spare Katarina the pain of having too slay her own kin. She would take that burden.

If Katarina woke up, she'd likely hit Sasaki, tell her she was being stupid, but hopefully, secretly be happy she'd been spared the burden. At least, Sasaki liked to think so. Katarina was a woman who was driven with frightful intensity, and Sasaki could imagine that Katarina might even hate her for denying the right and responsibility of hunting her own kin.

"Stubborn and prideful." Sasaki muttered. She was just like Katarina. Stubborn and filled with a strength of pride that absolutely would not allow her the ability to ask for help. Still, she would do this for Katarina, even if she were hated. Her own pride would accept nothing less.

When she returned to Darnell, Sasaki sought out Kuroyki, who was waiting patiently in Sasaki's quarters.

"We're hunting Alsabet, Kuro." Sasaki stated, and Kuroyuki raised an eyebrow.

"For future reference, mother, do you mean... right now?" Kuroyuki asked her, and Sasaki frowned.

"Of course. We don't have much to go on, but-" She began, but Kuroyuki rose to her feet and held out her hand.

"Then allow me to help, mother." She offered.

Sasaki eyed Kuroyuki's hand, baffled. "Do you have some idea-" She began as she took her daughter's hand.

Kuroyuki pulled and Sasaki was suddendly surrounded by darkness that brushed against her face like thick, sticky cobwebs. Strange colors danced in the black, hypnotic, dazzling. Sasaki blinked, and suddenly sunlight splashed against her eyelids. She didn't even remember closing her eyes.

A moment ago, she had been in the simple room she'd been given; the air cold and pregnant with snow, the next she was kneeling in winter-dead grass with the sun shining overhead. As sensation returned, Sasaki immediately felt her gorge rise. There was simply no time to stop it; she immediately leaned forward and vomited everything in her stomach in a steaming rush.

"My apologies, Sasaki-sama", Kuroyuki was saying, "I had no idea the experience would be so unpleasant for you."

Sasaki tried to say something, but instead vomited again. She couldn’t shake her head so she waved her hand as another convulsion wracked her.

She spat sticky ropes of phlegm and wiped her mouth with a handkerchief when a cramp rippled across her midsection. She barely had a moment’s chance to pull her skirts out of the way and squat before everything came out the other end.

"Oh dear." Kuroyuki worried.

"You do this sort of thing all the time, Kuro?" Sasaki asked wearily, as she glanced around. Trees, a stone and wood house with thatch roofing, a well. What had happened? Where had she gone?

"My body apparently does not suffer the same complaints, Sasaki-sama." Kuroyuki replied. She glanced around. "You should prepare yourself, I should think." Kuroyuki offered helpfully. "Your target should be close."

Sasaki nearly overbalanced and fell over at Kuroyuki's proclamation. Sasaki had somehow been pulled by Kuroyuki through... what? and they had traveled... how far? Alsabet was nearby? Too much had happened much too quickly for Sasaki to process.