Sophie felt the force of Purity guide her through the busy city streets, the man she had been chasing vanishing from her sight. Not only had he vanished, but so had the guiding force. Unlike her quarry that had slipped away the to severing of the guiding force had been sudden, like a thread severed by a pair of scissors. Suddenly amidst a strange crowd, without a purpose, she felt lost. Hurrying up and down the busy street she felt it slowly returned though, increasing in strength as she moved closer to her target.

Letting Purity’s will guide her once again, Sophie followed that feeling until she was brough the front of a quaint café. Sam, or at least the man she thought was Sam, sat at one of the café tables. An unknown woman rose from one of the chairs crying out in despair and vanished into the busy crowds on the street.

Sophie didn’t care. She had finally managed to catch up. She placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Found you” she said, glad that the chase had finally come to an end. That the guiding feeling had been something real and not simply imagined.

Sam turned around, his face exactly as she remembered. It was a face that often haunted her dreams.

“Can I eat my pretzel?” Sam asked.

Whatever response Sophie had expected after the long chase today it was not this.

“Ah… Uh…”

Sophie shook her head, clearing her thoughts.

“Sam?” she asked, “Is that you?”

Sam looked at her confused.

“Excuse me, but I think you have the wrong person.”

Sophie doubted it. The gold eyes, the wavy black hair, the jaw, the chin, they were all the same. It was understandable that he didn’t want to talk to someone who had abandoned him in the mountains, but she had to know.

“How did you survive?” Sophie asked, “How did you get back?”

Sam turned around, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I’m really sorry, but you have the wrong person. I’m just a simple beggar.”

He gestured at his clothes and Sophie followed the movement. His clothes were indeed in tatters. Their colours faded by sun, dust and wear. Their design were distinctively elven, despite their raggedness.

There was no way logically that Sam had been able to return home from the mountains, travel from the End Forest to the Forest of Origins, and get those clothes and then back to Nova Lux. She could also say for sure that they were not sold anywhere in Nova Lux, by decree of the Holy Empire.

Had she been mistaken? Was… was this person not Sam? She drew upon a small bit of her divine senses and let them wash over the person before her. He was undoubtably not a player, like Sam… and his features, they were identical. Did the game reuse NPC data? She doubted it. The game was far too complex for something like that. An algorithmic mistake maybe? A genetic coincidence?

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Sophie frowned. Something didn’t add up. She just wasn’t sure what it was. The only other thing that came to mind when she thought of golden eyes and black hair was from a report she read earlier this morning from yesterday’s scenario at the br… Sophie looked down at the Sam-not-Sam’s clothes. Of course! The beggar at the bridge. His features might have seemed so familiar because she’d had a look at the wanted poster in the report.

She considered it and it was a strong possibility. Because of the wanted poster her memory of Sam and the image on the wanted poster had overlapped. It would also explain why the person had run.

“You’re… not Sam?” She asked and Sam-not-Sam nodded.

“You’ve got the wrong man, lady.”

Sophie nodded to herself once, making up her mind.

“I understand, my apologies then.”

“At least we…”

“In that case I’m going to have to arrest you for the vandalism, defacement and desecration of the statue of the Holy Saintess, assaulting and injuring guards of the peace, unlawful entry into the city, fleeing the law and resisting arrest.

She drew out a pair of enchanted handcuffs and clapped them on him before he realised what was happening.

*****

Azrael looked at the handcuffs wrapped tightly around both of his wrists and then up at Sophie.

The Beast in him raised its hackles, baring its fangs, but he forcefully supressed it.

That hadn’t just happened. Had it?

Had he just been arrested? It had all been working out so well just a moment ago.

When Sophie had arrived, he’d tried bluffing his way out of the situation. There was no way that she clearly remembered and NPC she’d only briefly travelled with. He’d even managed to activate The {Trickster’s Blessing} increasing the likelihood of her believing him.

Indeed, he had seen the doubt on her face, until she finally accepted his story. Now he sat in handcuffs. He wasn’t sure what had gone wrong.

He was sure that somewhere up in his godly realm The Trickster was either sitting somewhere with a grin splitting his face from ear to ear, or laughing his head off at Azrael’s predicament and at the turn of events.

“’Scuse me, kind lady” he said, trying to get out of this predicament, “Unfortunately I believe that you really have mistaken me for somebody else. I’m just a humble beggar who arrived in this city yesterday. I have no clue who this Sam you speak of is.”

The accusations she had listed were… technically correct, but she didn’t need to know that.

She ignored him and spoke something into a communications device.

Azrael took the chance to try and get out of the handcuffs. He gave them a sharp yank, hoping to break them with his game enhanced strength, but the handcuffs didn’t budge.

Next, he tried forcing some mana into them, but his mana slid right off – Like water off a duck’s back. He tried again, this time consciously following the mana and guiding it into the metal. He could find no purchase there though. It was as futile as trying to scratch hot metal with butter.

The clatter of dozens of feet caught his attention and he looked up to find just short of two dozen spears pointing at him.

Two men saluted at Sophie and briefly consulted before one of them turned to him.

“Under the law of the Holy Empire, you are now charged with the vandalism, defacement and desecration of the statue of the Holy Saintess, assaulting and injuring guards of the peace, unlawful entry into the city, fleeing the law, obstructing the law and resisting arrest. You will not resist and accept a full interrogation and check by the Holy Order, until proven not guilty. Any attempts to resist or escape will be seen as admission of guilt and acceptance of all charges.”

As ridiculous as it was Azrael realised that he probably wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this, so he asked the single most important question that burned at the forefront of his mind.

“Can I have my pretzel?”

The guard in charge picked up the pretzel, before handing it to one of his men.

“All personal affects will be confiscated for the duration of the interrogation.”

That sounded a lot like a ‘No’ to Azrael.