CHAPTER 45

Katarina sorted through her small collection of belongings with a forlorn expression. Were she to die, these things would be all that would be left of her legacy. Perhaps she should take her mother's suggestion and retire. Build a greater legacy then a scant handful of belongings scattered across packs and saddlebags. The temptation to do just that swept over her almost like a physical force, compressing her heart in her chest. She'd ring the bell on the stand over there to summon a maid, and she'd send for her mother. She'd agree to everything.

Bizarrely, what stayed her hand wasn't revulsion at the idea of settling down, but instead, pride. She was a Witch Hunter. She left a long and bloody trail in her wake, killing Witches and heretics for the Golden Lady for ten years. She alone had triumphed against hundreds of Witches.

Other Witch Hunters weren't so lucky. They were like candles guttering on the windowpane, quickly snuffed. She alone had persevered. She alone had endured. If she gave that up, what would she be? Not Katarina the Witch Hunter. Katarina the noble. Katarina the wife. Katarina the mother of children. Katarina the Boiyar, Lady of the Merchant House of Pavlenko. Not dishonorable, certainly, but without that fierce savage pride that burned in her breast at the thought of all she had accomplished for her Goddess.

So instead she eyed one rough leather sack with a confused expression. What was that? She didn't own anything like this, and for good reason. The leather had been dyed a garish oxblood so dark it might as well have been burgundy. She hated the color.

She turned the sack over in her hands thoughtfully. Where had it come from, she wondered. It was bound closed in some golden rope that looked to have seen better days. No, she certainly had never owned such a thing in her life. She undid the thong that held it closed, and upended the contents on the table, and gasped as a number of baubles and trinkets and chains skittered across the table. Some tingled with the feeling of magic, and she settled down with them to discern their function.

Many of the items were much like Katarina's own: they augmented certain abilities. A thin chain gave off the impression that if it were wrapped around the ankle, she could jump higher than normal. A clasp for a cloak mended and cleaned the cloak, reattaching torn threads and repelling dirt.

One item in particular resisted identification, a golden plaque perhaps two inches across, four inches in length, and as thick as one of her fingers. A polished blue opal set in the center. Her hand hovered over the plaque while she probed it with her blessed senses, striving to understand the nature of the thing.

A feeling of confusion enveloped her. She couldn't figure out what it was for, but it seemed to be a container of some sort.

Katarina touched it with a fingertip, and the plaque vibrated and a woman's voice spoke clearly from it, startling the Witch Hunter and causing her to leap back with a shout.

"I told you Witch Hunter, I am not your plaything!" The voice demanded hotly. "Release me from this prison and let me die!" It demanded in a voice filled with a hot desperation and suffering.

"What...?" Katarina gasped. Neither the voice or the accusation resonated with her. Yet it claimed to know her?

Suddenly the plaque hissed, and a thick jet of mist squirted from the plaque like a syrupy liquid, billowing in plumes, forcing Katarina further back. A female figure suddenly formed from the mist, a woman with short hair and plain dress. Her features were bland, indistinct.

"What is this?" The plaque asked. The mist-woman's mouth moved in time with the question. The figure gesticulated, and the plaque vibrated with an angry, hurt woman's voice. "Who are you?"

"I am Katarina." she replied warily. "A Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady."

The plaque gave a deep, longsuffering sigh, and the mist-woman drooped despondently. "Another Witch Hunter." She replied despondently.

"What witchery is this?" Katarina demanded.

"Don't you know?" The plaque demanded hotly, and the misty figure waved its hands angrily.

"I don't." Katarina replied honestly.

The plaque sighed again, and the mist-woman shook her head.

"That monster Morgan trapped me in here." The plaque wailed. "He called me his love, his darling, he was everything a woman could desire, and in the end he trapped me in this prison."

"Morgan!" Katarina exclaimed. That explained it; at some point in time she'd taken his pack. She'd carried it with her all this time and had no idea.

"If Morgan is not here, then where is he?" the mist woman held out her hands.

"He abandoned the Goddess." Katarina replied. "I sent him back to her." She replied simply.

"As I thought." The plaque replied, and the mist-woman nodded, arms folding across her bust. Her foot tapped thoughtfully.

"Tell me who you are." Katarina encouraged.

"Who I am?" the woman shot back hotly. Whatever else she was, she was certainly mercurial.

"I was Isabella. I am-" She paused for a moment, and then continued, "I was a Sanctioned Mage in service to the Golden Lady. Officially I was his Penitent, though it was I who asked him to take me with him." The figure gestured. "I loved him, you see." Katarina nodded.

"Morgan, you mean." Katarina replied, and the mist-woman seemed to give her a baffled expression.

"Of course, Morgan. Who else have we been talking about?" She asked truculently. "I loved him. I couldn't stand the thought of being apart from him, and so I asked him to take me as his Penitent." She repeated, and Katarina nodded again.

"We were together for nearly a year, and-" She paused. "He started behaving strangely, without explanation. Thrashing in his sleep. Arguing in his dreams. From time to time, he would seize up in bed, all his muscles tense and thrumming like a plucked string." She paused again, and shook her head. "We had returned to Tannit for assignment, and he went to see someone and left me behind. When he returned to our room, he had that plaque." the voice hardened bitterly.

"He drove a knife between my ribs, and when next I could think, my link to him, our bond had been broken and I was trapped."

Katarina sat down on the floor and tried to reason things out. Isabella had been a Sanctioned Mage and had willingly allowed herself to become Penitent so that she could be with her love, the former Witch Hunter Morgan Blackhand. Morgan had gone rogue and at some point decided to break the Penitent bond, no easy feat.

When a Witch Hunter encountered a Witch, there were several routes they could take. One, they could bring the Goddesses' Mercy to them. That was Katarina's way, she simply preferred to send them to the Goddess by way of her gun. The second way was to bring them to the Holy Church for Sanctioning; something Katarina did rarely, and normally only to those willing. She'd attempted that with Mystia because the girl was young and frightened and Katarina believed that with enough persuasion and reason, she could be Sanctioned and welcomed into the mages that were owned by the Church.

The final method was to make the witch Penitent, a ritual that forcibly welded the soul of the mage to the Witch Hunter. The Witch Hunter could command complete obedience, gained a mage ally, and when they died, the mage would die as well, and both souls would be commended to the Goddess.

Katarina shuddered at Isabella's fate, a soul without a body. Blasphemous and horrific.

She looked at the female figure made from mist. "Isabella, what would you like me to do?" She asked. The figure made a severe cutting gesture with her hand, and the plaque on the table piped up.

"Kill me." She replied with the voice of finality. "This half-life is abhorrent." She cursed. "All I wanted was to serve the Goddess and be by my loves' side." She wailed.

"How do I kill you?" Katarina asked, and the figure paused in its thrashing.

"You'll do it, then?" The plaque asked, a hint of eagerness in the voice.

"If I can figure out how." Katarina replied. "Should I destroy the plaque?" She asked, and the figure drifted over to it.

After a long moment the misty woman turned back to Katarina. "I do not know if you can. This was made well." She admitted. "Beyond my skill, at least." She laughed jaggedly.

Katarina stood up. "Very well, I'll try." she decided. She approached the table, and the misty figure suddenly flung up a hand.

"Wait!" the plaque buzzed.

"What is it?" Katarina asked.

"Will I..." The figure began reluctantly. "Will the Goddess welcome me, do you think?" She asked. "I do not want to be trapped as a spirit. I don't want to become one of those restless undead."

"I honestly don't know." Katarina admitted reluctantly.

"Then don't." The plaque replied decisively, and the misty woman vanished. "Take me to a Church. Find out for certain. If I am to die, I want to make sure I am properly commended to the Goddess."

Katarina nodded. "As soon as I am able, I will free you." She promised.

Katarina repacked Morgan's satchel mechanically while her mind drifted in thought. Already so much to do. She couldn't discharge any of her responsibilities, either.

If she were to abandon her post as a Witch Hunter, who would hunt her sister down? Alsabet had been taken to the Church when she was but six years old, had been trained in magic for the past twenty years. Whoever faced her would be fighting a seasoned, well-experienced mage. It was possible, she surmised, that a wet-behind-the-ears Witch Hunter could take down an experienced magic user, but not likely, barring taking the mage by complete surprise.

If she were to abandon her post, there would be an inevitable clash with the Church. It might be possible to retire, however, she thought. Simply turn over all of the materials relevant to her investigations, hand over her gun, and be done with it. According to Indigo's gossip, Katarina herself was the most infamous Witch Hunter, only as a close second to her former Master, the Justicar Witch Hunter Donald of House Christensen. She might be able to swing it with her notoriety.

There was a flaw with that idea, however: You didn't retire from the Church unless it was feet first. Inquisitors, maybe with a backing force of paladins would likely be showing up to arrest her. For desertion she'd likely be taken to the capital of Darnell for trial and executed.

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Katarina eyed the cloak her father had thrust on her. Wearing a cloak on the estates would be bizarre, certainly. Or maybe it was expected? She wasn't sure. She marched out of the room, her maid scrambling to keep up with her.

Kristoff was settling down to his breakfast when a knock hammered rapid-fire on the doors to his estates. After a moment he guessed it as his older sister and took an angry breath. She knocked again, and he waved at his maid to let her in.

"Good morning, little brother." She announced, striding into his room aggressively. He shook his head at that. She walked like a man.

"We need to talk about a few things, I should imagine." She said as she came in, her maid following at a distance. "You're upset at my arrival and I'd have the reason why." She stated, hand on her hip. He twisted his mouth. That was not a posture a woman should adopt.

"Oh, I'm upset about a great many things, Witch Hunter." He replied in a strangled voice. Had she no sense of decency?

She made a face. "I have a name." She warned, and he pointed at her. "As do I." She nodded at that.

"You and I aren't particularly close." She replied. "We didn't grow up together. I feel more comfortable calling you 'little brother'."

"All right." He replied, and sighed a little. "Then I'll return the favor, 'elder sister'." he replied, and she smiled at him. He clenched his teeth. If they weren't related, a smile as beautiful as that would set his heart aflame. "What can I do for you?"

"I thought we might have a chat over breakfast." She explained simply, and then held up her tape measure. "And I have a favor to ask of you."

"What's the favor?" He asked suspiciously, and she rolled her eyes.

"You needn't look at me like that." She replied. "I just want your measurements. I plan on seeing our tailor today and you look to be a similar build to me." She said with a gesture.

"What? That doesn't even make sense. Why would you need my measurements?" He asked, and she laughed a little. "I can't wear dresses and the like anymore. I spend most of my days chasing down Witches, little brother. I need shirts and trousers. I doubt I'll find a tailor anywhere that would make shirts and trousers for me. I'll take your measurements and tell them that I am making clothing for you as a gift. I'll make the relevant adjustments on my own."

He gestured at her. "Your... waistcoat?" He asked, and Katarina shook her head and rapped on her vest with her knuckles. "Armor." She replied. "I'll get some embroidered silks and re-cover it when I have the opportunity." She replied.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

He gestured again. "Elder Sister, are you hunting Witches right now?" He asked sarcastically, but she nodded seriously. "Always. That's why Witch Hunters are permitted to carry their weapons anywhere, including churches and cemeteries." she replied and he sighed.

"You clearly have no idea how beastly you look." He replied distastefully, but gestured at his table. "Breakfast, elder sister?" He offered, and she nodded.

"To answer your question, I'm upset because your presence complicates things more than they already are." He offered by way of explanation as she took her seat and began serving herself. "The House of Pavlenko is matrilineal as you well know." he explained. "Whoever I marry will take over the House unless I marry beneath my station." He refilled his wineglass from the carafe. "That's my problem, though, not yours." He added as an afterthought.

She shook her head. "I'm a Witch Hunter. I can't take over the House, little brother." She reminded him.

"You say that like it means anything." He retorted. "I know that. But I saw how Mother and Father looked at you last night. All of their problems, gone." He snapped his fingers. "Mark my words: they'll name you successor and place me in a "supervisory role" to oversee things while you traipse about in the woods like a peasant."

She shook her head. "I don't want that." She replied simply, despite the discussion with her mother. "I have enough problems as it is."

He took his seat and served himself. "I'm not really mad at you." he finally admitted after a few bites of his food. "All my life I've been told I was an only child. Now I find that I have not one but two older sisters, one of which is an apostate mage."

"I don't know why you weren't told the truth." Katarina replied. "I'm sure Mother had her reasons." She added.

"Must you dress that way?" he asked her. "I mean, in the house. Would it kill you to wear a dress like a proper woman and not flounce around in that ... attire?"

She shook her head. "Impossible." She replied with a grin, and he snorted.

"Fine, a peace offering, then." he gestured at one of the doorways. "Take your pick of whatever you like from the wardrobe. It also spares you the embarrassment of trying to convince a tailor to make men's clothes for you."

She laughed. "I'd make the alterations myself; I know how." She replied dismissively, "but I'll accept the gift in the spirit it was intended."

He nodded, and they ate in silence for a while.

"You know..." he mused. "If you were to get married and have your own child, I could act in the role of an advisor until your child came of age." He postulated. Katarina shook her head.

"There's a few problems with that scenario, little brother." She offered, and gestured at him with the fork. "First, I spend most of my time in the woods and forests hunting witches." She informed him. "I've been doing this for the past ten years- trust me when I say a wonderful man won't simply pop up in the middle of the woods conveniently." She advised.

There was a knock at the door, and Liliana stepped into the room.

"Mistress, there is a woman here to see you. She's announced herself as Pastor Aleima."

Katarina nodded. "Have her sent to my apartments and..." She glanced at Kristoff. "Offer refreshment." She added. Her maid nodded and disappeared.

"Since I'm raiding your wardrobe, you can answer me a question, little brother." Katarina offered while she pulled out several shirts and inspected them.

"Ask." He offered, and she nodded. "Have we a clothier? I need fabrics."

"Certainly. What type?" He asked.

"Silks, I think. Brocaded silks would be appreciated. Also cottons." he nodded.

"What for?" He asked, and she fingered the patched and torn silk on her vest. "This needs to be replaced." She advised, and he nodded. "There's no problem there. I can arrange a visit in a few hours."

Katarina nodded at that. "I appreciate it, little brother."

"No problem, elder sister." He replied with a smile. She paused at that.

"From now on..." She began, and took a breath. "I want you to call me Kat." She decided. "I don't have many people I'm close to, but the ones that are call me Kat." She informed him.

He gave her a simple smile and nodded. "I can do that."

Katarina returned to her apartments, Liliana following along dutifully with an armload of shirts, waistcoats, and trousers. Upon arrival at her quarters, she was surprised to see not only Aleima, but three men in brown robes.

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"It's good to see you again, Aleima." Katarina greeted warmly. "Who are your friends?"

One of them approached, an older man with a rough scruff of stubble on his cheeks. "I am Elder Lambert." He said by way of introduction. "I am from the Cultus Sancte." She nodded.

"I am Katarina, a Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady." She replied in turn. He raised an eyebrow at this. "Not to the Church of the Golden Lady?" He asked, stressing the word.

She gave him a careful look. "I serve the Golden Lady in thought, word, and deed." She replied simply. "While I travel, it is Her world I ride through. When I sleep, it's the Golden Lady who watches over me. It is Her mercy I bring to the heretic." She replied. "The Church gives me my assignments, but it is through her that my work is done." She finished. He nodded at that.

"Well spoken." He said by way of reply, turning to glance at his companions. When he turned back, he eyed her with calculating, shrewd eyes. "And has she rewarded that faith?" He asked curiously. "Has she spoken to you?"

The Witch Hunter took a breath and set her jaw. "I don't know how that's any of your business." She stated. "I'm not familiar with the Cultus you speak of."

He gave her a small, deprecating smile. "My colleagues and I curate information related to persons of significance for the Church." He replied.

"Then you'd know of my Master?" She asked, and a flicker of doubt crossed his features.

"Master?" He asked, frowning. "I was given to understand that you were a Justicar Witch Hunter."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. I suppose I must be." She replied testily. "I'm speaking of the man who made me his apprentice years ago. Lord Donald Christiansen, the Wolf of Alastor."

His eyes lit up. "Ah! It makes sense, now." he replied. "Yes, of course. We have many records of him. Sadly, we have no knowledge of his ultimate fate and how he came to meet it, but we know of him as an honorable man."

She nodded. "I'm glad he's not forgotten." She replied softly.

"You haven't answered my question." Lambert replied in a soft voice. "Has the Golden lady spoken to you?" He asked.

"Twice." She replied. "Once, just after the passing of my Master." she added reluctantly.

"What did she say?" He asked. Over his shoulder she could see one of his compatriots writing everything down. "You are a torchbearer, bringing the holy light of the Goddess to the dark corners of the world to banish shadows. When you have no strength left in your limbs, you speak the word. The Light of the Goddess is a blessing to the righteous and a bane to the iniquitous. When you have no breath left with which to speak you spit in the eye of darkness in defiance." Katarina repeated. "I've tried to live to that goal since. I have brought the truth of the sword to Her enemies."

"And the other?" He asked, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

"Some weeks back." She admitted grudgingly. He made a dismissive movement of his hand. It was irrelevant when the Golden Lady had spoken to her, it seemed.

"What did she say then?" he asked urgently, drawing close.

"I-..." She paused. "I don't know if I should repeat it." She admitted reluctantly. "It had the feel of something... important. A vow."

His eyes lit up and his hand clenched and unclenched eagerly at this.

"If it was Her vow" he replied, stressing significance on the word, "then it is safe to repeat to me. Now, quietly." he turned his head and tapped his ear.

Katarina bit her lip and leaned forward. The man practically quivered in his robes.

"She spoke to me." She whispered. "She said..." She took a breath and repeated it.

"I kill, I give life. I injure, I heal. There are none who escape from my hands. There are none who escape from my eyes. May it be so that you are shattered.

I welcome the defeated, the aged. Surrender to me, learn from me, obey me. May you be at rest.

Do not forget the song, do not forget the prayer, do not forget me. I relieve you of all burdens. May it be so that there is no deception.

Retaliation unto forgiveness, betrayal unto belief, despair unto hope, darkness unto light, death unto life. May you rest in my hands. Let there be a mark of your sins.

Eternal life is found only in death. Forgiveness is before you, and so my incarnation vows." She finished, and then added, "and when i woke up the next day, my hair was as you see it."

He quivered. If Katarina hadn't been trained to notice the smallest detail, she wouldn't have caught it.

He touched her hair, fingering the golden streak. "And your eyes? Did she do that as well?" he asked blandly, and she frowned. "My eyes?" She asked. He raised an eyebrow. "Have you a mirror?" he inquired. "Your eyes are green."

Katarina rolled her eyes at that. "My eyes have always been green." She replied simply. He nodded. "My mistake, then." He replied diffidently.

Katarina eyed him suspiciously as he murmured quietly to one of his compatriots.

Katarina looked to Aleima. "I'm uncertain why you brought them here, Aleima." Katarina observed.

"There's a lot we have to discuss Katarina." Aleima replied, "But we should do so privately." She added with a significant look at the three men who murmured amongst themselves.

Katarina maneuvered around the trio of men and faced the older woman.

"Katarina darling, I think you should avoid visiting the Church just yet." She advised in a low voice. "There seems to be some sort of political..." She shook her head. "There's too much I don't know. But if you go to the Church, I fear you may be arrested." She murmured tightly.

Lambert spoke up. "Lady Katarina, One thing the three of us have noticed has been a sense of the divine about you." He paused. "I apologize for the ... dangerous language. I mean to ask if you have forged a contract with a Cassisian or perhaps a Lyrakien?"

Katarina blinked and her brows furrowed at that. She turned towards him, confusion painting her face. Her mind raced, trying to put a finger on what he asked.

He caught her confusion. "The Church now calls them 'Angelic Wisps'." He offered testily. Katarina shook her head and a sudden coolness at her thigh caused her hand to brush her pistol in its holster. A word whispered in her mind and she frowned, mouth twisting.

"If I gave you the name, 'Im Adad', would you know what that meant?" She asked cautiously, and he jolted suddenly, and he was slower in schooling his face to neutrality.

"An Angelic Spirit. Elemental." He offered as an explanation, gesturing with his hand. "You are truly fortunate, Lady Katarina, if you have met one such as they. The Im Adad are the harbingers of the storm. They are as fickle and as deadly as the lightning they wield. More, they're said to ride the winds of prophecy."

He shook his head and gave her a tight-lipped, patronizing smile. "But you cannot have forged a contract with one, however. They acknowledge no one their Master but the Goddess."

Katarina laughed lightly at that. "Certainly I can't claim to have subjugated her. Nevertheless she has been at my side for the past ten years." Her face grew thoughtful. "She's been teaching me of..." She paused and blushed. "Aspects of myself I've neglected."

He chuckled politely. "Lady Katarina, forgive me my condescension, but you simply cannot have done what you claim. When we forge a contract with a Cassisian, it's done of a mutually beneficial relationship. Many are used as scouts or messengers, because that is their nature. In the divine hierarchies, they are the lowest, carrying and relaying messages. In the lands of Rothgar, occasionally a Lyrakien will agree to the bonding ceremony of the Wisp because they delight in music and travel. It's perhaps the highest pride or arrogance when I describe their attitudes, but they are given to understand that their time is infinite, so taking a mortal master for a handful of years is inconsequential to them. A Im Adad has no such motivations. What value is there to a storm in subjugating themselves to a person? None." he answered his question simply. "An ant cannot make you its servant, likewise you cannot contract with a Im Adad." He stated emphatically.

He glanced at Katarina, who was stroking her gun

"I can't give her truename." She spoke musingly, her eyes somehow turned inward. He blinked at this. Was she somehow in communion with an angelic spirit? He eyed her gun, and whispered a prayer to the Golden Lady. His blessed sight saw it blaze alive with divine energy, practically seething.

"She says you have named her as Simurgh, Angel of Thunder..." her lips compressed with obvious amusement at something, and she added, "And she dares you to presume upon her intentions again."

Her eyes cleared. "I didn't forge a contract with her in the method you describe. There was no ceremony of the Wisp. That is as much beneath her as you say; an ant requesting help from a human. She accompanies me at her sufferance." She smiled at that.

Lambert glanced to his two associates. Katarina realized she hadn't gotten their names.

"It appears as if we've reached an impasse." He suggested delicately. "I think we should perhaps speak again after we all cool our heads."

Katarina raised an eyebrow at that, but nodded. "As you say. My maid will show you out. I will need to spend some time in conversation with pastor Aleima."

They gave her respectful bows and allowed Liliana to escort them.

As soon as they'd left her apartments, Katarina rounded on Aleima. "What was that? Who were they? Cultus Sancte?" She demanded.

Aleima let out a sigh. "The Cultus Sancte... is the Cult of the Saint. As they said, they curate information related to persons of note within the Anglish Empire. They also are the political body that determine if someone qualifies for Sainthood."

"Are you implying that the Church wants to make me a Saint?" Katarina scoffed. Aleima sighed. "For that you'd have to be dead."

"Celestine and Andrianna both were considered Living Saints in their time." Katarina replied.

"That's because they were blessed by the Golden Lady." Aleima replied patiently. "To receive Her Blessing is to be elevated." She added.

"So what are the requirements to be a Saint?" Katarina asked.

"Well, first you must be dead." Aleima replied wryly, and Katarina chuckled.

"I tried that once, and I didn't like it. Next?" She asked, and Aleima eyed her strangely, but placed her hands on the back of the chair she had been sitting in. "A miracle must have been worked on your behalf." She eyed the seasoned Witch Hunter. "Your healing counts." Katarina added in her resurrection in Aston silently.

"There are other factors as well." Aleima added. "And there are exceptions that could be made." She added. "Things like prophetic dreams, finding ancient relics from bygone Saints, or achieving the impossible."

Katarina laughed at that, but Aleima raised her hand warningly. "You might not qualify for Sainthood, but they could give you the title "Servant of the Goddess", which is a tremendous honor." She advised, and nodded, "It's also very political. You would be forcibly retired." Katarina rolled her eyes. "Goddess protect me from the Cultus Sancte." She mock-complained.

"You don't want to be honored for your work?" Aleima asked curiously. Katarina shook her head in negation.

"Certainly not." She replied. "I just want to do my job. I don't care about fame or reward." She replied simply. "Let those who want power and authority chase after it." She encouraged. "I just want to serve the Goddess. The best way I know how to serve is through my work. I hope you'll indulge my arrogance a bit, but I like to think I'm somewhat good at it." She added, and Aleima rolled her eyes.

"You sound just like him." Aleima replied testily. "And what did that avail your Master?!" She demanded, a thread of frustration in her voice. "Katarina, you're the best Witch Hunter the Church has had since your Master." She lauded. "You're too good to waste on an unknown death in uncharted woods."

Katarina shook her head at that. "You and I aren't going to see eye to eye on this. Tell me: Why shouldn't I visit the Church?" She asked.

Aleima sighed. "Stubborn stupid, just like he was." She hissed, shaking her head angrily. "Sit down, calm down, and I'll tell you." She advised, and Katarina took her seat.

"First, Your authorities as a Witch Hunter have been frozen. You are commanded to return to Darnell with immediate haste on pain of arrest, where you will present yourself to the Book of the Golden Lady."

Katarina let out a sigh and closed her eyes wearily at that.

"Secondly, the Inquisition is looking for you. Charges have been levied against you: Mutancy and consorting with dark powers. You have been labeled a sixth-degree Moral Threat."

Her eyes snapped open at that and fury blazed in their green depths. "What?!" She exclaimed hotly.

Aleima nodded. "I don't believe you're guilty of either." She reassured the woman. "But don't you see?" She urged. "There are forces arraigned around you!" She exclaimed. "One power wants to see you recognized for your accomplishments. One wants to destroy you. The Book of the Golden Lady wants you. All three want you to go to Darnell."

Katarina nodded. "Aye, I should go there, if nothing else but to clear my name."

Aleima shook her head. "Katarina, if you go to Darnell, you will die. There has never been someone who has survived the Inquisition. At best you can hope for a quick death. You know the Church! They will kill you and commend your soul to the Goddess for judgement."

Katarina glared at Aleima. "Your solution, then?" She asked hotly.

"Come with me. Stay with the tribe. You can have a new life, you can find a new way to serve the Goddess."

Katarina shook her head. "I need to think."

"Katarina," Aleima interjected, but Katarina cut her off.

"I said I need to think!" She shouted. Aleima raised her hands and took a step back and Katarina sighed.

"I have... I have- since I returned to Darnell following the death of my Master- I have followed the Golden Lady. I have served her in the only way I know how. The Church has always been a thorn in my side. They keep wanting to pull me away from my work. They pigeonhole me. Doorstop me. They impede my work at every opportunity. They put a gun in my hand and tell me to do my job and then they do everything in their power to keep me from doing that job. If I had my way, I would execute the lot of them." She spoke in a rush. "But I know that the Golden Lady has a purpose for them. That they have a role to serve. Still, they're an endless thorn in my side." She took a long breath and let it out slowly.

"Maybe, maybe I could leave the Church and retire my gun and simply be Katarina Pavlenko. Maybe I could join your tribe. Maybe I could help my mother and father with their work. Maybe I could do these things. I serve the Golden Lady, not the Church." She mused.

Aleima nodded.

"Aleima, can you come back tomorrow?" Katarina asked. "And I'm sorry for shouting at you. Forgive me."

Aleima nodded and left quietly.