Finally being given a moment of respite, Aurora sat down by the side of the mildly spacious dirt road which she had been following for the past month or so. The smell of kobold blood still seemed to linger around her, even though she had walked quite the distance from their remains.
Sighing, she started checking her clothes in a lethargic way, not really wanting to do more work and simply relax for a time, but nonetheless the desire to be free of this small hindrance proved stronger than her usual lazy ways.
First to be checked was her white silk veil she kept over her head and shoulder-length brown hair, held in place by an ornate (but not ostentatious) iron circlet, meant to help keep both the sun and dirt away.
Then came the turn of the long, hooded cape made out of linen which she wore over her small shoulders; while at first glance it may have seemed unfit for the season, given the high temperatures, the cape actually came with the standard enchantments the knights’ mantles received (plus some more niche ones), meaning that come sun or rain, Aurora would always feel comfortable under its embrace.
That said, its dark red colour certainly wasn’t of any help when one was searching for smears of pretty much the same shade.
After that came her dark brown leather boots, reinforced with wood and iron; her well-worn white woolen stockings, one of the hand-me-downs from her older brother; and lastly was the linen long gown of a lighter tint of brown, modestly covering her body while also showing a bit more collarbone (which was effectively covered by the cape).
The rest of Aurora’s petite body hit the ground as soon as she confirmed that no drop of monster blood had stained her travel clothes, not even bothering to retrieve any amenities from her Hidden Casket.
Looking up at the serene blue sky, with but a scant few clouds here and there, the young lady couldn’t help but wonder once again about the sheer genius, and in equal measure absurdity, of the “Hidden Casket’s” properties: it was, essentially, a receptacle of varying degree of sizes, mostly dependant on the caster’s strength and aptitude for magic, but visible and accessible only by its owner; and if that wasn’t enough to win people over, many more qualities had been uncovered since its spread throughout all of the kingdom, from lowly peasants to high nobility:
it always remained by its owner’s side as if it was a sentient creature, much like what a trained dog or wolf would do; the weight of the items placed inside mattered not, a discovery so mind boggling that caused many to almost go mad, constantly wondering how could such a thing be; lastly is what many, Aurora included, exalt as the most marvelous property: the passing of time did not affect the objects kept inside the Hidden Casket.
This spellcraft had been discovered by none other than a small village of the kingdom, found near no other particular points of interest. The very same borough she could spot a day or so’s walk away from her current position.
Lately, many high-ranking nobles had started paying close attention to the hamlet, for the clear and plain reason that all of the new, revolutionary discoveries from the last couple of years seemed to pop up one after the other from there. Aurora’s superior had thus received orders from the higher ups to send someone to thoroughly investigate the situation, an arrangement which ultimately fell on her.
Being the best inquisitor in the kingdom does have its pros and cons.
Of concern was that besides useful but fundamentally harmless spellcraft, like “Clean,” “Heal” or “Focus,” the village had also given birth to various kinds of differently-tasteful magic like “Torture,” “Control” and “Show Memories” amongst others. That is to say, Aurora had to leave a written will before departure, and, if she hadn’t been under one already, she would’ve also been forced to swear an Oath of secrecy.
Putting aside the more mystical part of all this, the small commune had also proliferated varied types of artefacts: a “pump,” useful for dredging up water; varying sorts of alloys; the “crossbow,” a peculiar kind of bow that enables even the weakest of men to shoot powerful arrows with a certain manner of ease and speed; an assortment of collectables and toys, like stuffed dolls and “Peeveesee” dolls; they have, apparently, also circulated around the wealthier towns plans for building a “clock” tower, which is supposed to be an elaborate tool that would ring the town’s bells without any aid, human or otherwise.
Furthermore, they tried to popularize a set of undergarments for women, but they didn’t receive much success: women of lower caste did not find the expenditure required for the flimsy clothes to be necessary, and thus disregarded them; women of high status, after the Queen Regent made clear her distaste, stayed away from the garments as if scared of catching a deadly sickness; the middle class mostly followed one of the previously stated courses of actions, or were just indifferent to the matter altogether.
As for Aurora herself, what had been labeled as “brassiere” simply held no purpose considering her meager breasts, while the “knickers,” having tried a few, all felt quite restrictive and had thus been discarded. Of course, the common norm that a woman shouldn’t be wearing anything between her legs also played a part in Aurora and many other women’s dismissal of said article of clothing.
The sound of her own grumbling stomach brought the petite inquisitor out of her train of thoughts. Leaving the “comfort” of the ground behind with a sad and reluctant face, Aurora started walking down the road once again as she brought out some dried meat from her Hidden Casket, which she promptly munched on.
With the moon peeking out in the horizon as a backdrop, the young woman at long last arrived at her destination. To tell the truth, she had expected more out of a village currently at the center of the attention of many keen officials and businessmen.
No walls had been erected to protect the weaker inhabitants, just a small wooden fence was all that delimited the confines of the borough; as could by now be expected, no gates blocked the entrance to the hamlet, leaving it wide open for people and monsters alike. There was only one middle-aged garrison stationed at the entrance, one that was currently fast asleep inside a makeshift wooden booth uncannily similar to those pit latrine outrooms.
The juvenile lady decided to camp outside for the night, not wanting to risk being caught sneaking around at night when she was still no more than a stranger in the residents’ eyes.
As always, Aurora found the sun rose faster than she would’ve liked. Sounds of activity wormed their way into her ears too, forcing her to finally get up and start working. Having replaced her camisole back with her gown, she proceeded to fold her stuff and put it back in her Hidden Casket.
Meanwhile, the guard, who had been replaced by an older one, looked at her with a pensive scrutiny without trying to hide it. It wasn’t like a nubile young woman like her came by their village everyday, her clothes indicated she wasn’t one to worry about food and, once she adorned her cape, such conviction was solidified even more.
As a symbol of status in their kingdom, the commoners and nobility alike strived to keep in mind the motifs and colours that usually adorned the cloaks; in this case a red cape pointed to a high-rank officer, while the black, stylised scale of justice decoration represented the Inquisition, a group of regulators under direct administration of the Minister of Internal Affairs, tasked with examining high-profile situations (in most cases, they’re kidnappings, murders, slavery and so on).
Anyway, inquisitors could do no more than that, it was their superior’s other subordinates, the Court of Justice, that would decide the proper actions to take for each case, and ultimately it fell on the Minister of Defense’s Knights’ Order to enact said measures.
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The old man kept an eye on the unknown woman as he greeted the passing farmhands, mostly humans with a few beastmen mixed in-between. Curious glances were thrown her way, but nothing more than that took place out of their wariness, both because she was a stranger and she was a noble, or so they thought.
Aurora’s family held no hereditary noble title, but with her ancestors having a few military accomplishments and some others instead making good investments, her family could be placed among the wealthier households of the middle class. Of course, given her current prestige and position, she had been granted the rank of Viscountess, but, as stated at the beginning, it wasn’t hereditary and was instead more of an honorary title for talented and hard-working commoners.
Done packing up, the inquisitor approached the guard, asking to be escorted to the village chief, which turned out to be the man’s own grandson, one not even old enough to have started growing some hair. Her own misgivings, which she barely suppressed as denoted by her twitching eye, were soon alleviated once the introductions started.
The chief, who named himself Ethan, fluently guided their conversation most of the time, forcing Aurora to interrupt him time and again. Pleasantries aside, the boy proved to be quite slippery when asked to answer the real, most important questions: information on exactly what spell and tools originated from this village, who developed them, why, how and for what purpose did they release such knowledge to everyone, completely free of charge?
Even though the youngster proved to be mature beyond his age, the lady officer had become the best the Inquisition had to offer by using her sharp mind and silver tongue, so by nightfall the two were already discussing the details of these supposed ‘prophetic dreams’ some of the village youth were experiencing, him included.
To be more accurate, it wasn’t that prophetic dreams didn’t exist, but that they came to be only when one had particular levels of affinities toward the various and faceted elements known as a whole as Fate: Chance, also called Luck or Karma, denotes the possibility of something happening, relatively based on one’s past actions; Heritage, which does not actually refer to one’s ancestors, but to the soul and its past lives, thus initially shaping Chance; Astral Influence, or simply Influence, is the ability of the soul to change the destiny of oneself and others; Destiny, the rough direction toward an unknown goal one is guided to, heavily influenced by Chance and Influence; and lastly Nemesis, the inescapable agent of Death that can only be delayed but never stopped.
The names themselves may be wrongly used as synonyms of one another, Fate included, by the common man, but most of those of peerage, especially the ones that interacted with the clergy, wouldn’t make such a mistake. Neither would those attuned and trained in them like Aurora. She could indeed feel that Ethan had a vastly substantial Influence, meaning that the strength of his soul, derived by the Heritage of his past lives’ feats, was nothing to scoff at.
But that was it. He had no propensity toward wielding any of the elements of Fate, so no amount of chattering would convince the woman of his words, they only made her more cautious, assuring her something was afoot. At this point they were interrupted by the village head’s mother, prompting them to have dinner, and thus the inquisitor decided to postpone further questioning to the next day. She wasn’t in a hurry.
At the dead of night, the inquisitor could feel the muted steps of the boy as he left the house, probably to update the other youths on the proceedings of her investigation, and, once again, she decided to not venture out at night; she knew to believe her intuition, which was, in a manner unknown to her, somehow connected to the inner workings of Fate.
Tooru could only click his tongue in frustration as he recounted to the five before him, one of which was shackled and gagged, of his dealings with the noble lady that had visited their base. He knew he hadn’t been able to distract her, to convince her that there was nothing peculiar in a remote village suddenly popping out genius after genius, he knew… that not even his max-ranked skill, Persuasion, had worked on her.
Of course, he only tried to subtly use it at key moments and didn’t try a frontal, full-on approach, but her intimidating aura seemed almost like it was taunting him, daring him to go a step further if he didn’t fear the consequences. Angering the powers that be, especially in the country their families resided, didn’t seem like a fitting next step in their plans to live undisturbed. Moreover, there were also those that, like him, planned to stay here during the latter half of their lives, it wouldn’t be so easy if wanted posters showing their faces were going around the kingdom.
Their vexation stemmed from their own mistake: they had underestimated the people of this world, and so, thinking they wouldn’t be found out, they started releasing bits and pieces of the knowledge they accumulated in their past lives; they spread general know-how to increase the liveability of this country, their unique comprehension of magic stemming from various media so that they wouldn’t appear so abnormal if they used it in public, and lastly was their expertise in science and technology to advance this seemingly stagnant medieval-like era they’ve ended up in.
On top of that, it had now become impossible to delay their decision any longer: what should they do with their wayward compatriot? The rest of the village already thought her gone, having fled the hamlet in search of a less boring life, and no one bothered to search for such a twisted individual. Yui’s attraction for the macabre and other less than appealing aspects of life (or lack thereof) proved to be impulses she just seemed to be unable to control in this world, possibly because of a lack of an attachment to it.
Considering what she had already done, the fact that she was still alive was a testament to the remaining five’s mentality, seemingly too used to their previous peaceful lives. They also couldn’t simply let her go and risk having her revealing their information and causing even more irreparable damage. They knew about Oaths but, first of all, they didn’t believe she’d agree to one, and secondly, they were too scared to release her gag, too scared of the possibility that she’d try to get free again using her perverse magic, and this time succeed.
The discussion kept going in circles, just like the time kept moving forward, and soon dawn approached. Having concluded that sooner or later the young woman at his house would force him to let her meet the others, Tooru decided to guide her to his family’s barn, so that they could all be present without alerting the villagers of Yui still being here. At this point, they could only rely on the inquisitor’s conscience and hope they wouldn’t have to fight to escape a life of slavery as dispensers of otherworldly knowledge.
Needless to say, Aurora felt a bit smug while observing the shocked face of the men and women, at least in mental age, in front of her. This all stemmed from their lack of information about the existence of Fate and its inner workings, much less that there was magic to go along with it. Their explanation of how they had somehow retained the memories of their past lives mashed well with what she could feel through her magic, explaining why people so young would have the Influence to change the Destiny of so many people.
Except the one called Yui.
As soon as she saw her, Aurora felt a chill run down her spine, but had decided to wait until the group’s explanation was over before moving to investigate the corpse. They had been flustered and shocked once she told them so. Sure, she was pallid and glassy-eyed, but she had always been like so in their memories, they couldn’t fathom how and when she could’ve died.
The young lady could, instead, though the knowledge she acquired from the Reincarnators through their chat was key. The Deviant had clearly been experimenting at first, and her discoveries had led to her having a certain mastery over the soul, as evidenced by the thread of Fate (something she had never seen, nor heard of before) that connected the cadaver with something else in the distance, clearly too far to be seen with the naked eye.
The dead body was but a doll maneuvered by a puppeteer, one that didn’t have any qualms to discard even their own flesh and blood if it was what it took to achieve that which they desired.
The carcass’ mouth had already split open a while ago, going beyond the limit of the flesh to display its owner’s delight with a warped smile that reached the ears. Clearly, not only could the individual known as Yui control dead corpses (or at least her own), but she could also receive information from it too. After that, Aurora saw the thin strip of energy detach itself and retread in a blink of an eye, but just to be sure, she and the others brought the corpse outside the borough, in a nearby forest, and at here behest set it aflame with magic, making sure that not even the bones remained.
Back at the hamlet, Ethan and the others made their preparations and said their goodbyes since they would be following the inquisitor back to the capital. They left in all haste as a tabby cat watched them disappear from the horizon before falling to the ground as if it was a marionette whose strings had been cut.
And so it would be that, many decades later, those same youths from a remote village would be known as the First Heroes, while their fellow countrywoman continued to accrue infamy till the point she came to be called the First Demon Queen, Originator of all Soul magic.