The church had a small living quarters set aside for the pastor, and Valmont had finished washing off the blood from his nose and cut lip and was pressing a cold washcloth to his face when his sister came in from the garden behind the church. "What happened to you?" She asked curiously. She was a hand shorter than her sibling, but otherwise shared his features; dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, a narrow, angular face and a figure that was softening with age.

He glanced at her and shrugged helplessly. "Chasseur de sorcières." He replied and her eyes widened with surprise. "Here?" She asked, hand going to her chest. He nodded in response.

"To think, a Witch Hunter in Higgenfal." She breathed. "For me?" She asked him, and he shook his head. "No, Camille. She was seeking help with a captured witch." She blinked a couple of times at that.

"She?" She asked suddenly. "A madame chasseur de sorcières?" She asked, curiosity and incredulity in her voice. "The Goddesses' wonders never cease." She remarked with awe.

Her eyes narrowed at her older brother. "But brother, whyever did she strike you?" she asked, and he shrugged again. "My Anglish, is not so good. I misspoke and the lunatique, she struck me."

Camille compressed her lips together briefly. "I had warned you that this would happen, mon frère." She replied mercilessly. "You need to let our old tongue go." He shrugged again.

"It makes the flock suspicious of us, brother." she added. "Think! How can you guide them on the Golden Lady's path if they cannot trust you?" She urged. "Let go of the old tongue, brother."

She took the cloth away from him and her eyebrow twitched. "She struck you well, it seems." Camille judged clinically. "You will carry a scar, but it is small." she wrung out the cloth and pressed it against the side of his face, which he accepted with a small hiss of pain. "You said she came here for help?" She asked conversationally, and he nodded. "You accepted, of course." Camille queried, and he shrugged. "She wanted me to hold the witch here."

Camille's eyebrow twitched and her hand froze. "You did not accept?" She asked, and he touched her forehead lightly. "I did not want to upset you, little sister."

She frowned at him. "You should have accepted straightaway! Now she likely thinks you a heretic!" She exclaimed, worried. She wrung her hands briefly, and then straightened. "Well, I need to speak with her anyway, I will tell her myself." She stated decisively. She got up and headed for the door.

"You're going now?" he asked, and she nodded. "Of course." She eyed him reproachfully for a moment. "I have to try and undo the damage you've done... again." She left the room afterward, leaving him to sigh and reapply the cloth to his face.

Dinner was practically a feast, with the patrons of the inn having their choice of thick slabs of mutton or pan-fried chicken, a mountain of mashed potatoes, and a pan of boiled greens. Regardless of what dish the patrons received, their food was cooked in with garlic, onions, cracked peppercorns, and slathered in a thick sauce made from pasted pine nuts.

Katarina was used to such fare, having traveled through tiny villages and towns, but Mystia wasn't, and goggled at the mountain of food in her trencher. Sasaki made a show of slicing everything into smaller pieces with a knife and then once again using a pair of wooden tongs to tweeze the food into her mouth with dainty bites.

"Look at you, eating so pretty." Katarina remarked, and Sasaki smiled a little. "It keeps me free of mess." She remarked simply, and Katarina nodded.

A cluster of chuckling and joking villagers filed past them, on the way to the bathing room, one young man ducking out of the inn, into the night.

"Are you not going to join them, Katarina?" Sasaki asked. "If you gag Mystia, I'm sure I can watch her while you tend to yourself."

Katarina shook her head. "I'll use the baths in the Maiden House." She remarked shortly. She smiled, then. "But if you want to join them, go ahead. No need to stand on formality with me."

Sasaki raised her eyebrows and her eyes opened wide. "Certainly not."

"You have a problem with communal bathing?" Katarina asked, but Sasaki shook her head. "I have no problem whatsoever with communal bathing. I am from Yamato, after all." Katarina raised an eyebrow interrogatively, and Sasaki sighed. "Fresh water isn't scarce or rare, but separate baths are an extravagance. Families bathe together, warriors bathe together. I haven't seen it for myself, but I can guess monks and Shrine Maidens bathe together, respectively."

Katarina gestured towards the baths. "Then by all means."

Sasaki shook her head. "Bathing should not be a raucous affair. It should properly be for cleaning, reflection, and relaxation. Besides, I've heard about what goes on in Anglish bathing rooms." she mock-shivered.

Katarina nodded. "I feel the same, actually. I'd prefer to avoid... entanglements like that."

Sasaki nodded sagely. "Just so. I'll bathe in the Maiden House." She eyed the inn speculatively. "I'd heard, though, that the Anglish rarely bathe?"

Katarina shook her head. "Purity of the body leads to purity of the spirit. Mother Church encourages daily ablutions."

"I can assure you, those are anything but pure." Sasaki replied, pointing with her wooden eating tongs.

Katarina nodded with a laugh. Common bathing rooms were usually filled with an assortment of men and women. In the baths humor, hands, and more were free and left to their own desires. There was a reason why unmarried girls and women were often separated from other villagers.

Katarina turned her mind back to her meal.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Heads up." Sasaki murmured to Katarina, and motioned with her head at something past Katarina's shoulder. Katarina glanced back; a blonde woman that seemed to be of an age with herself came to stand by their table.

"Excuse me, which of you happens to be the Witch Hunter?" she asked in a low voice, and Katarina's eye twitched. She had the same accent as the pastor, but there was a sense of something else, something more. She spoke in a low, conversational tone so as to not be overheard by the few remaining patrons, people who were finishing up their meals still, or getting ready to return to their own homes.

"I am." Katarina replied, and showed the woman her holy symbol. "I am a Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady. My name is Katarina." the woman bobbed her head respectfully. "My name is Camille. You met my brother already, Madame Witch Hunter."

Katarina nodded again. "Yes I did, and I was not impressed." She remarked indifferently. "There are a number of suspicious elements I have observed in Higgenfal already, and he is responsible for at least three of them. I originally came here to weather the rains, but it's looking more and more like I will have to open an investigation."

Camille took an angry breath, face clouded and upset, an objection blooming on her lips. She clamped her lips tightly together however, biting back her reply until she'd calmed herself, and then replied in a normal voice, "He is devoted, Madame." Camille urged.

"Oh?" Katarina asked, eyebrow raising. "You two are from the Jeweled Cities, right?" Katarina replied, holding up a finger. Camille clamped her lips shut again. Katarina nodded. She liked this girl; she had a self-control that was obvious, but noteworthy.

"We are from the City of Opal, Madame." She replied quietly. "The city of healing and restoration."

The Anglish Empire held a complicated relationship with magic. "There should exist no power that does not come from the Goddess Herself". Any power that did not come from the Goddess was deemed heretical. Anything heretical needed to be crushed, excised, destroyed.

However, magic had many fundamental uses that were simply impossible to replicate with clerical powers. While clerical healing could stop bleeding, accelerate healing, and soothe the ravages of disease, magical healing could regenerate lost limbs, outright cure diseases, and so much more. So, begrudgingly, magic was allowed to exist, though in a tightly controlled and regulated fashion.

The "Jeweled Cities" were a cluster of city-states in the Sarkomand Highlands, just south of the nation of Lyonesse. Each city was dedicated to the study of a particular type of magic. Opal had at one point been known for its study of healing and restorative magics, before it had fallen. Each of the cities on the high plateau of Sarkomand had fallen. The Anglish Empire had declared the place tainted and corrupted by foul magic, and anathema against all who came from, or went there.

"The people here sing songs that are not part of the Church canon." Katarina replied, holding up a second finger, and Camille nodded. "Yes, they have been doing so since before we arrived." she replied. "We have been trying to steer them onto the correct path, but it is slow work. It does not help that my brother's Anglish is..." She trailed off. "Not so good."

Katarina held up a third finger. "His sister is a witch." she replied in a voice like doom itself. Sasaki, who had only been paying a passing sort of attention, jolted in her seat, eyes widened in shock, and there was a sudden sense of readiness about her.

Camille's eyes widened in anger. "I am no witch!" She hissed.

Katarina affected a surprised expression. "What, you think a Witch Hunter cannot tell when a Witch stands before her?" She replied ostentatiously.

"I was properly Sanctioned in the Church at the age of nine." Camille replied hotly.

Katarina noted Camille had not raised her voice once. Most of the inn's denizens were in the bathing room, likely splashing each other, telling the kinds of jokes that lumberjacks and farmers and miners told, but still, Camille kept her voice down. Katarina could understand why. If it were known that the pastor of the village had a witch- no, a mage- for a sister, regardless of whether or not she had ever used her ability, regardless whether she were Sanctioned by the Grand Lady Cardinal Herself, the villagers would likely riot and hang the both of them. Small towns and hamlets were provincial and much less forgiving of the use of magic.

"What do you wish of me, Camille?" Katarina asked finally.

"I would like to speak with you discreetly, if I could." She requested simply, hands folded at her waist.

Katarina considered the possible reasons behind her request, and nodded. "Sasaki, I'll return shortly." she mentioned to the Yamato, who flicked her hand dismissively as if shooing away flies.

"Do you want me to watch her?" Sasaki offered, and Katarina immediately shook her head without hesitation. "My responsibility."

Katarina, Camille, and Mystia maneuvered their way through the interconnecting doors between the inn and the Maiden House, Katarina pointedly ignoring the large hole she'd put there when fighting with Sasaki. The innkeeper and his wife both gave her level, even stares. What did they have to complain about, besides a hole in the wall? Determining whether Sasaki was a certain threat or not to the village was surely worth a hole in a wall. If Sasaki had proved herself a witch, a mutant, or worse, the village would have suffered far more than a simple hole in a wall. Some wood lathes, plaster, and a new coat of paint was a infinitesimal price for such a thing.

Katarina led the young woman to her room, and once Mystia had been secured to the bed, Katarina turned to Camille. "All right, we're as alone as we can be, what is it you need of me?" She asked, and Camille began undoing the lacings on her dress. "I would like to submit myself for Inspection." She announced.

Katarina raised an eyebrow. What was this? The girl lowered the top of her dress, and stood ramrod straight. Her seal was of an older style, a convoluted knotwork circling the Lily of Spring. Each of the petals had an incomprehensible arcane symbol on them. The older style of seal was over the heart, so hers was just above her left breast, below the collarbone. Newer seals were on the hand, the face, or the hip.

Katarina ran her thumb over the woman's seal, probing with her blessed senses. The seal was intact, robust and potent. If Katarina had not been able to tell the seal's age, she would have thought that the seal had been implanted yesterday. If Camille had indeed been sanctioned at the age of nine, then she was twenty-two years old and had either never used magic since the seal had been tattooed into her skin thirteen years ago, or her use was so few and far between that it had never occurred at all. Katarina raised an eyebrow as she contemplated this. The seals the Holy Church used to control and protect the mages eroded over time. Magic was useful but also virulent and toxic, the seal could only contain and filter so much before it could not contain any more.

"You're fine." Katarina replied dismissively.

"You were thorough?" Camille asked, and Katarina frowned, brows furrowing.

"I'm not sure what you've heard of Inspection, Camille, but it's a test of your seal's strength. Only that and nothing more. It's obvious that you haven't been using magic, or if you have, it's been so negligible as to have no impact."

She gestured at the other woman. "You can dress yourself. The Inspection is at an end." She took a breath and blew it out of her nose. "Why did you seek me out?" Katarina asked, and Camille smiled a little.

She raised her eyes to meet Katarina's. "My brother and I walk in the light, Madame. We are devout. I wanted you to know this." She declared with a firm authority. "My brother refused to take her out of consideration for me." She gestured at Mystia. "However, I have no problem with keeping her contained. We can dose her as necessary, keep her confined and fed. We will not shirk our responsibility."

"You certainly have a different attitude than your brother." Katarina remarked casually, and she nodded. "He is..." She trailed off. "He is not so confident. The village needs strong guidance from the Church, and he is not strong enough to do it, I'm afraid." She replied resignedly. She bowed her head. "If you'll excuse me." Katarina took a small step back and indicated Mystia, who wearily rose to her feet and left with Camille.