I clenched the dagger that I held tightly. It was found by one of the Inquisitors in our search. The dagger had the mark of the beacon of Aon, it’s metal was of high quality mithril. Its clean blade suggested that someone had maintained it meticulously daily. The sheath was covered with a leather of unknown origins, but its hardness suggests that it came from a very strong beast.

“With this, it means the forces of Dark had even penetrated the Great Cathedral…” an Inquisitor said with shame.

“How did they managed to get past without us noticing? We should have detected their essence of death,” Another one cried.

“Obviously, the only explanation is that they’re not even the undead or a demon. Start searching for more clues,” I ordered the Inquisitors. They bowed before disappearing into the shadows again.

There were signs of the owner of the coins everywhere. From the Great Cathedral to the market district. What was his agendas? What does he achieve by leaving trails for us to follow? Was he mocking us?

The fact that they even managed to get into the Great Cathedral undetected, while I was there inside meant that it couldn’t had been the undead or the demons. If they were, all the Inquisitors would’ve noticed them and jumped into action. Even the Grand Cardinal didn’t feel any presence of the dead. This meant that there was a gravedigger that found these coins.

I went back to the public halls of the Great Cathedral to try to collect my thoughts. Looking at the paintings gives me some peace. I appreciated the arts that the devoted had given the Path, sometimes I wondered if the Goddess herself painted them.

I put on my white hooded robe to disguise myself. Whenever people see me, they crowd around me, becoming an annoyance to me, but I couldn’t lash out to them, for they are my brothers and sisters who follow the Goddess’ path.

I joined the groups of pilgrim wandering around the cathedral. I corrected and matched my pace with one of the groups of pilgrim. I didn’t pay any attention to them and simply appreciated the art as I followed them. There’s a lower chance for me getting caught if I travel with other groups based on my experience.

I toured for a while before I noticed one peculiar conversation between the pilgrims I was following.

“I swear, Boss, the dagger was still on me when we got to this part. We should keep moving, perhaps it was lost something along the path,” One of the robed man said to another.

His accent appeared to be very posh so he seemed well-educated. But I had not seen any nobles that dresses like those. These men could be nobles from a far away place who had come for pilgrimage.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find it. If I could remember that dagger was a family heirloom since ----” the man named ‘Boz’ said. His accent was also different, and the dialect they speak appeared to be different from Western Commons. Perhaps it’s Vallenian? Or one of the languages of the United Confederations? Regardless, it’s useless to think about that now. I’m struggling to comprehend what they’re talking about.

“Boss, the metal in particular of the dagger was ----- and given to me by the ------! Can you believe it! My ----- will kill me!” The man cried. Boz patted his back before guiding the group to one of the exhibitions.

The dagger was obviously important to that man. As a follower of the Path, if you pray hard, you might be able to find it with the help of the Goddess. I prayed to the Goddess to guide the man back to his beloved dagger. This is the best I could do for a fellow devout, I wish I could help you out but I had a more pressing matter.

As I viewed the various arts, my mind was cluttered. I was thinking hard and wondering how we could possibly catch the owners of the coins. As I was in my thoughts, Boz was waving at my face.

“Hello? Hello? Are you listening? I said, can you tell us where the painting ‘Elven Stars’ located at? We got lost and we’re trying to find our way there. If you want, I’ll give you a coin,” Boz said.

“Oh. The ‘Elven Stars’? Go through that door and go west, and go straight forward. Once you reach the stairs, go up and turn right. The painting is just ahead. Oh, by the way, you don’t have to pay me any-” Before I could finish, Boz tossed a coin at me and thanked me. He and his group rushed towards the door I pointed at.

“Like I said I don’t need coins.” I sighed as I caught the coin. I do appreciate the generosity of the pilgrim, I would give this to the church. Or so I thought. I stared at the coin on my hand. My hands were shaking. Right on my hands, given by that man named Boz, was a coin with the same markings as the one the beacon of Aon had.

I frantically started searching for Boz and his group, but my sight was flooded with other people. Before I knew it, Boz was already gone. I remembered that I guided them towards the painting ‘Elven Stars’. I pushed through all the pilgrims. Some pilgrims wouldn’t move as much I would like to so I was slowed down a bit. As I walked through the crowd, I activated a scroll. It shone for a bit before disintegrating.

I eventually reached the hall the painting was in. I looked around, carefully searching around the hall. I couldn’t find Boz or his group anywhere. Did they already leave? I judged that I should’ve been a few steps behind but I didn’t expect that I was that far behind. I cursed my luck and prayed to the Goddess to forgive my incompetence.

Eventually some men in black robes approached me. “You called for backup?” one of them whispered.

“Look for a man with white robes and hood, he has an iron mask. As far as I know, he should be around this hall as he wanted to go to see the ‘Elven Stars’” I described Boz to the Inquisitors. They bowed before blending into the crowd.

I recalled Boz and his group. They seem to be normal, nothing out of the normal. Perhaps they got the coin from the gravedigger? If they did, it would help if they could tell us where or who gave the coin to them. It was impossible for them to be the undead or a demon, they were too normal….not out of the ordinary. There were less than ten of them in the group, more than half was armored while the rest are robed in white, but they were not that different from the countless other pilgrims who wore robes in white or wore armor.

The only remarkable thing was the man named Boz in their group, who had a strange iron mask. I was close to getting a clue, but it just slipped from my hand. I clicked my tongue and started searching for Boz once more.