7.13

“I’m not fireproof, just very determined!” - Alexander the Dragon Slayer, while on fire.

Governor Hye and the entirety of the Scarlet Samsara guild were waiting for us at the front gates of Taebut. We didn’t bother with any attempts to hide, as only Noam and Utoqa could reasonably pull off such an attempt. I stood out like a glowing thumb under the night sky.

So we approached on foot under stars and flickering mage lights, until Hye raised a hand, “That’s far enough.”

Noam’s hand, still at his side, flicked a finger outward. A tiny gesture, one I followed to the hidden crossbow user on the walls, Mist, I believed his name was. The mage was proudly standing beside Hye along with their front liners, though she seemed to flinch when Utoqa came into view.

Within their range, but not ours.

I raised a hand, and they all tensed. They were disappointed as I merely opened it in the universal gesture of wanting something. “I would like my messenger back.”

The swapping rogue stepped forward with an iron cage, Lime trapped inside. He walked towards us, stopped at the middle and let Lime out. The wisp waddled the remaining distance and hopped back onto my hand.

“You wanted a talk,” the mage spat, “talk then, before we take you in.”

“Discussion under a temporary truce,” Hye added more diplomatically, “for the chance to work out the conflict peacefully.”

“They killed Elirian, Jaquaks, Kadrian, Lathel!” she yelled, staff raised.

They must be the guards Noam and Utoqa killed breaking out.

Hye slapped the staff away, and for a moment I appreciated her shrewdness, even with the superior force, she noticed something very simple.

Neither three of us flinched.

“Eleanor,” Hye whispered to the mage, “I need you to be calm, and silent for the next few minutes.”

The woman sulked, but stayed quiet as Governor Hye turned to us.

“I would like to know why exactly you are in conflict with the Hearth Church,” I began. “For what reason you sought out a client under our escort, and why it was important enough to escalate to such a degree.”

“That boy is cursed by the Weeping Child,” Hye said neutrally.

“Distraction, she’s probing us for information,” Noam whispered to me, and I quickly came to the same conclusion he had.

“All the more reason for us to seek out a Hearth Church for him to be safe, not to mention you clearly weren’t aware of the fact until after the fight. You would’ve sent a far more people,” I replied.

“We suspect that Heather Glascoin, Sister of the Hearth Church, is a demonic cultist in disguise who has been sacrificing people for decades.”

I raised an eyebrow, “That is a very bold accusation, especially since the only demonic thing I’ve seen recently was in your basement.”

“Nine generations ago, my family slew and divided the corpse of a demon. Sealing each fragment away,” Hye explained. “This generation, one of those pieces went missing, and has been missing for thirty years.”

Noam crossed his arms, “Still a stretch to place the blame on a Hearth Sister.”

“If your claims are true,” I began, “When did you acquire your suspicions? I would think something like a demon fragment would warrant immediate action.”

Unlike how you’ve interacted with Glascoin so far. I left unsaid.

And I saw at that moment a very familiar expression on Governor Hye’s face, caution. Care and consideration, held to such excess that it became indecision and cowardliness.

Almost a mirror to my face.

Noam noticed it too, faster than I, since he has been complaining about the same thing far longer than I’ve noticed that flaw in me.

“She was clever,” Hye said. “Only took some people every year. Disappearances constant but few enough to be lost within the metropolis.”

“I hope it doesn’t need to be said that we are not on the side of the Hells,” I said. “But consider please, our position. We come into this city, the local Hearth Church speaks of your oppression, our charge almost kidnapped by armed men, and then a demon fragment found inside your basement after you took two of ours prisoner. If anything, you guys look like the demon cultists.”

“We need more than words, is what he’s saying,” Noam clarified.

She hesitated, and I frowned. “Judging by your conservative actions, you don’t have any proof, do you? Only suspicions.”

“She is far too lucky,” Hye seethed with some emotion halfway between annoyance and horror. “It is unnatural. I have investigated hundreds of dead ends, and yet, in this entire city, twelve hundred names, and she is the cleanest, the one with the absolutely no evidence, motive or means.”

“So your point,” Noam began with a tone of incredulity, “Is that she is too innocent?”

My mind latched onto one word, ‘Lucky?’

I began trying to recall my interactions with Glascoin, everything we saw about her was exactly as she had presented it. Regardless of whether or not I believed Governor Hye, my mind entertained the idea.

Did I ever see her Balance?

‘No.’

I never saw the Scales of her karma, I must’ve had the opportunity, at least two, it had just slipped my mind, as there were more pressing things to consider.

Would I have ever let it slip my mind under normal circumstances?

“Noam,” I whispered, “am I paranoid?”

He didn’t reply with some platitude, for he knew me better than that. When I asked in this tone, I wanted the honest answer. “Very.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Knowing what I did about the Scales, generosity and charity were surefire ways to build it up, for the world wanted to keep you in Balance, weakening yourself in any way demanded the world make it up to you in some other means.

And she was a Hearth Priest.

Thought of it another way, an evil person could do whatever they wanted, so long as they did enough right that the world still considered them a net positive.

It clicked then.

“Celine.”

It didn’t matter whether or not I believed it, the concept was feasible, and that alone warranted confirmation.

Noam head jerked towards me. He recognized my face instantly, and knew I had pieced something together. He held his hand to his ear, “Celine, come in.”

Celine’s voice answered him, “Yes Noam?”

I frowned, and my gaze against Hye and Scarlet Samsara turned guarded. The mage, Eleanor noticed, and she held her staff slightly tighter.

“We’re checking up again,” Noam said. “How’s your side going?”

“Ms Tai is out handling the investigation, but she’s turned up nothing so far.”

Utoqa hand rested on the handle of Gift, on the other side, a man in heavy armor did the same for his war hammer.

Then Noam gave me a sign, miming spearing a ball with a toothpick, then eating it.

‘Takoyaki,’ I recognized. Our code for fake.

I signaled Utoqa to stand down, my guarded face turned away from Scarlet Samsara to Noam.

“How’s Johnny doing?” he asked casually.

“He’s still hiding in the safehouse.”

“I see,” Noam nodded, “We’ll check up later.”

He turned to me, traced words on his arm with a finger, ‘Celine doesn’t call Tai Ms.’

The person who talked in Celine’s voice was someone that knew our names, that Johnny wasn’t with Tai and Celine, and our suspicions about Glascoin, as well as being close enough to disable Celine. That was a very short list of people.

I nodded and turned back to Hye. Her perhaps? She could’ve sent men to attack, but neither Tai nor Celine would leave the Hearth Church, that left the other option, that the Hearth Church left them. Noam had been talking with the real Celine just a few moments ago, so the Hearth Church must’ve been destroyed in that same time frame. Hye did not have the capacity, which meant the Hearth Church was destroyed from within. “I find your claims extremely doubtful, though not without merit.”

At my feet, glowing mycelium grew into words, a contract created by Mediation of Mutualism.

‘Our words are being listened to.’

My voice continued, “We will return to Gestrand Forest, and contact the Platinum Protectorate. If your claims have any merit, then they’ll be the ones to deal with it.”

The contract continued growing, ‘Our sympathetic mage has been taken hostage. If Glascoin made such a move then her goals must be nearing completion.’

Hye squinted to read the words on the contract, then gestured at someone to bring her paper. “Yes, perhaps that is for the best-”

Eleanor interrupted, shoving Hye aside, “And we’re just going to let them go!?” As she spoke, her fingers danced and weaved flames in the air, flames that formed words. ‘She’s almost done then?’

“Eleanor,” Hye said, with an expression that belied her deception. “I told you not to interrupt.”

‘I don’t know what she’s done.’ I returned with the glowing mycelium words, ‘She must have the capacity to overwhelm a swordswomen of the Gnari style and a hag taught witch. To do such a thing at such a time, implies confidence.’

“They’re murderers!” Eleanor yelled even as she weaved more words of fire above her head. ‘Fake a fight?’

“We were fighting in self defense,” Noam shot back, while I wrote.

‘No, that will require us to take damage to sell it, and she is incapable of healing us. That would naturally make us suspicious, and give the lie away.’

With my voice, I said, “You are welcome to give it a go, but consider if you have the requisite force to carry such a thing through.”

They looked annoyed, because even if we were outnumbered, they were not confident they could take us. We were banking on that bit of truth to sell it.

Hye spoke with an authoritative voice, “Eleanor, stand down, this isn’t the time to be wasting our forces.” On a piece of paper she wrote, ‘We’ll need all the help we can get, but we can’t trust you either.’

Neither could we, really. It was deception that led us to this mess, and the distrust born from it could not be solved.

So a leap of faith was needed.

Upon the contract I wrote out, ‘I agree to release The World’s contract, with no strings or conditions attached. He simply needs to agree to it as well.’

----------------------------------------

“I think they’re onto me,” Glascoin murmured, beside her, a clay bust of Celine dissolved along with its fake voice. Trailing behind her, clay tendrils carried the four dolls, and dragged two coffins. “One way to check.”

She took out a coin, “Heads, they’ve realized, tails, I still have time.” One casual flick, she caught the coin on the back of her hand. “Heads, huh. I really thought I did your voice pretty well.”

Glascoin flipped the coin again, “Heads, I should kill the hostages, tails, I shouldn’t.”

The coin revealed tails. “Interesting. I suppose it wants me to save the dolls for the opportune moment. I am curious though,” she turned to one of the clay coffins, “if your dolls would survive you.”

Another coin flip, and Glascoin smirked, “They will. You are a pretty good mage then.”

Celine scream was muffled, trapped within a prison of clay, something halfway between drowning and being buried alive. Glascoin’s steps were undeterred as she walked further down the circular staircase. Dug, covered, and reinforced in clay, the stairwell was the result of years of labor.

At the bottom of it all was an ivory teeth protruding out of bulbous pink pulsing flesh; almost the size of a house. Glascoin bowed towards it, “Your breakfast will be prepared soon.”

Clay hands lit up the fire, bathing the room with orange flame from an opening halfway between a kiln and an oven. Thick strands of drool dripped from the tooth, the demon’s hunger was so great that it even sucked away the smoke. Savoring its scent in anticipation for what it knew was coming.

It was with a smile that Glascoin threw both Tai and Celine into it.

“The contract nears completion, demon,” Glascoin said, watching the crackle of fire lick the clay coffins. The room grew hotter, and sweat beaded down her face. “When you are revived, immortality you shall grant me.”

The room kept growing hotter, Glascoin blinked, fanning herself. Yet she only felt hotter, until the heat became searing.

Until she smelt her own flesh cooking.

Glascoin screamed as her body burned. She was being attacked, nay, cursed. Clay tendrils whipped out, dragged the coffin of Celine out of the furnace and slammed her into the wall. Glascoin felt that very same slam impact her side. As she collapsed, the coffin shattered, revealing Celine with a hacking dry cough, her burned form and face shifted to an exact mirror of Glascoin’s own.

“Baba said I wasn’t good with curses,” Celine croaked out, “my heart was too kind, unfit for a witch. So she only taught me the very best one; a death curse that’ll take you down with me. Now release Tai.”

“Changeling,” Glascoin hacked from her own cooked dry throat. Her face covered in burns, she spat, “You think that trick will save you?”

“It’ll at least kill you,” Celine exhaled all her breath, then held her mouth shut.

Glascoin’s eyes went wide as she began to suffocate with her. The former priestess staggered back, and relented. Another clay tendril dragged Tai out and shattered her coffin. Celine breathed, and rushed to Tai, pulling out half burned and cooked herbs and salves from her pockets.

“What poison did you use!?” Celine yelled.

“Dayroot and monkeybane!” Glascoin responded.

“Liar!” Celine slapped her own face, and the blow resounded on Glascoin. “The eye dilation isn’t right, not to mention her breathing isn’t irregular.”

“It was Moonrest!” Glascoin answered.

Celine felt Tai’s pulse, and from her herbs and salves quickly crushed a paste in her palm, which she fed the elf.

After a moment, Tai’s eyes fluttered open. “Tai!”

The swordswoman blinked blearily, choked as she suddenly felt the searing pain of the burns that covered her body. But Tai was made of sterner stuff, she righted herself on all four limbs, and vomited out the remnants of the poison.

Celine was right beside her, helping her heave. “It’s all right, I’ve got you-”

Tai’s arm shot out and grabbed Celine’s neck, “You!”

“No! It’s me!” Celine hurriedly shifted out of Glascoin’s form. “Celine!”

A clay tendril speared through Celine’s stomach.

“I misread my fortune,” Glascoin muttered. “I thought it meant for me to not kill the dolls, but it was you who it meant.”

Tai let go of Celine, smashed the clay spear with an elbow before she rushed to Glascoin.

“But this changes nothing!” Glascoin screamed and the floor turned to mud that lapped and gripped Tai’s legs. “The smoke! The smell of cooked flesh! The screams! This is merely a trial! ONE IMPOSED BY MY LUCK TO SEE IF I AM WORTHY! MOLEATH, DEMON OF MOUTHS! WAKES!”

Teeth marks drew themselves around the whole basement, like the manifold tracks of a wheel on a busy road. Tai turned to the bleeding Celine, then back to Glascoin limping up the steps of the stairs.

She chose Celine.