Iron clashed against steel as Dugalo took an offensive lead. Mariana half-sworded her blade for better mobility, focusing solely on defense and expending as little energy as possible. Dugalo released a flurry of attacks that made Mariana's head spin, though she wasn't sure if it was his absurd speed or her concussion.
Crack!
Dugalo's pistol hit her chin, causing half of Mariana's face to go numb, but she held steady. She tripled the speed of her healing for a few seconds before dropping it back to double, it drained energy, but it cleared her head.
You can't block all of them, She thought, not in the state you’re in, focus on deflecting the attacks that will kill you. Her eye caught the flash of a steel knife and Mariana knocked the hand away with the pommel of her sword. She was moving too slowly, why hadn't she fully healed yet? She'd only fallen off a building. She couldn't let anyone find out about that, she'd never live it down.
Focus! Her instincts pulled her out of her thoughts and threw her back onto the battlefield just as Dugalo broke her guard, throwing her off balance. He pivoted backwards and aimed his pistol. Mariana dove forward to knock it out of his outstretched hand with a slash of her sword. Dugalo grinned as she did so. Where was his left hand? Behind him. He was going to windmill his arms as she knocked the pistol away to stab her in the shoulder or neck. Which direction would it come? Top? Right? Didn't matter.
Mariana shifted the trajectory of her blade so she'd knock the pistol in the opposite direction that he wanted. Even if he spun into a stab on her left side, he'd leave his back open for a second. A second longer than anyone ever should. She made contact and the pistol flew away. She had hi- He spun. Spun faster than he had any right to. Mariana had less than a quarter of a second to guard her left. She didn't have the speed. She lifted her arm just enough to block her neck. Pain exploded in her forearm where the blade hit her. She focused on durability, stiffening her skin and muscles tight around the knife, then wrenched her arm free, ripping the knife from Dugalo's grasp. He was stunned for a second at what she'd done. A second was all Mariana needed. She doubled her strength and planted a foot directly into Dugalo's abdomen. He flew back to the entrance of the alleyway and rolled into the street. Mariana removed her cloak to reveal the Crimson uniform of an inquisitor, then followed and made sure he was breathing. He had a few broken ribs, a bruised abdomen and a serious road rash on his back, but he seemed fine, already healing. Mariana checked her pockets, the salt chalk had been pulverized by the fall into pocket-sand, alongside a small black box filled with coils and crystals that she couldn't make heads or tails of. It was an inquisitor’s communicator, standard issue when working in the field. Her head started hurting again when she thought of all the paperwork she would have to do to get a new one, not to mention her failed surveillance assignment, and, She looked down at the crumpled form of Dugalo, the arrest report. She found what she was looking for in a different pocket. A pair of wooden handcuffs that were infused with the element of steel. Why they had to waste precious wood making these, she'd never know, but they were light and flexible, and thanks to the infusion, they had the durability of steel.
A crowd had started to form, but as soon as they saw Inquisitor crimson, they went about their day. She reached down and, as she started cuffing Dugalo, she announced the charges:
“Citizen Dugalo, you are under arrest for the knowing and willing assault of an Inquisitor. In the name of the Inquisition, and by the power invested onto me to uphold peace and justice, I, Deputy Inquisitor Cross, shall declare your sentence to be 7 seasons in Inquisition custody. If any around me deem this sentence unjust, speak now and lay your case.” Mariana waited out of protocol. Nobody objected. No one ever did. Once an Inquisitor announced the charges, a person would have to argue a case in front of an audience of their peers. A person would need an Inquisitor’s level of knowledge in law to stand a chance in a fight for the sentence, and if they were unlucky, the arresting Inquisitor could arrest them on suspicion of being an accomplice.
Mariana assessed herself for damage, she was mostly healed now, minus the knife wound, but was already feeling exhausted. Healing always took the most energy, and if you didn't have enough energy during the process, you might heal improperly, causing a permanent fault. She looked at the knife, she couldn't leave it in there, but could she heal properly? That was the risk. Mariana braced herself mentally, then relaxed her durability and carefully removed the knife. It had gone deep, but thankfully not through. She considered the owner of the knife, particularly his hygiene, and doubled the power of her immune system, before tripling both the efficiency of her healing and it's speed. It would be fixed in a few minutes, but after that, she was out of juice. No more Soul Magnum for a Sol-Cycle. She thought, pocketing Dugalo's weapons and dragging him to his feet. She looked back to the alleyway to find it empty of the other vagabonds.
“Loyal friends of yours. Remember, try to escape and I do have the authority to kill you.” Mariana muttered just loud enough for him to hear. As they shuffled towards the Inquisition head office, Dugalo didn't respond, she wasn't sure if he was conscious enough to hear her until he said.
“You look young. Bet you've never killed in your life.”
“I'm 24, thank you very much, what does age have to do with it?” She responded flippantly.
“It's not the age of the body. It's the age of the soul. Killing ages you, weighs on you. It's not something you can recover from.” Dugalo murmured, still dazed, yet quite lucid.
Stolen story; please report.
“You've killed?” Mariana asked, she shouldn't be indulging this, but there was something she had to know.
“Yes.” Dugalo sagged, as if the word alone had weighed down his soul. “You shouldn't take another life so lightly.”
“Noted.” Mariana said, then after a lull in the conversation, “Your speech cleared up.”
“Was a good fight, you sobered me up, nice trick with the arm.” Dugalo chuckled, but his heart wasn't in it.
“I think it was more than the fight. You've done a lot of healing within the last few minutes, must have purged your blood.” Mariana ventured, but Dugalo didn't respond. “Dugalo, how are you able to use Soul Magnum?” Dugalo hesitated before responding.
“You don't want to know. You really don't.”
“Dugalo I have to know.”
“If you know… if I say it… you’ll have to report it.” Dugalo answered, his voice quivering. “Then it'll be a bad day for the both of us.”
“Dugalo-”
“You aren't gonna let me go, so hurry up and hand me over, before you’re the one responsible for changing and carrying out my sentence.” He snarled, more to end that topic of conversation than display any actual aggression. With that, Dugalo turned and his eyes burrowed deep into Mariana's. A person's eyes were said to be the windows to the soul, and could tell you a lot about a person, if you knew how to read them. Dugalo's eyes were filled with a storm of tumultuous emotions. Not unusual, no one ever had just one emotion writhing inside them at once, but what attracted Mariana's attention, was hints of defeat, like a battle had been waged in his head and it didn't matter what side he'd been on. He'd lost.
“Little advice from an old man who's been around the block, remember what I said about killing.” With that, he slumped and spoke no more.
They shuffled into the corrections building, Dugalo notably kept his head down, his messy graying hair covering a majority of his face. They arrived at the front desk to find a bored, shaggy Inquisitor, whose uniform black hair had started looking like its natural sandy blond. He wasn't paying attention to them, instead looking through a binder of trading cards. Mariana recognized the game they came from, it was popular among the younger Inquisitors and school children. She cleared her throat. The Inquisitor might have leapt higher out of his chair if his knees hadn't caught the desk.
“Ow!” He sweeped the cards off the desk and out of sight. “I-I mean how can I help you?”
“Relax Charlie, just me,” Mariana cooed, “but don't let Sarge catch you doing that, and touch up your roots a bit, your blond is showing.”
“Oh, thanks Mariana,” Charlie sighed, running a hand through his hair, then getting a better look, “Wow… you look like…”
“Yeah I feel like it.” Then gesturing to Dugalo, who tensed in anticipation, she reported, “Citizen Dugalo, Charged with the knowing and willing assault on an Inquisitor, sentence is 7 seasons of containment. Do you find this sentence unjust?”
“I do not, the sentence stands.” As Charlie responded procedurally, Dugalo’s tension subsided. Charlie handed Mariana a small stack of paperwork. “Just fill this out, and you are good to go. Did he really do all that?” Mariana let out a quiet groan of annoyance as she took the papers.
“Most of it has healed already,” She answered, then added, “He broke my communicator, do you have the paper for that?” Dugalo gave her a side eye at the accusation, but smirked, looking a lot less stressed now.
“Dang, I don't, that's at equipment issue,” Charlie said, and pressed a button that called for two guards to come by and pick up the new prisoner.
“Well thanks anyway, I-”
“Deputy Inquisitor Cross.” A loud, yet flat voice called from behind her, causing her to wince. “I believe I assigned you to surveillance, not patrol.” Sargent Montague waddled up to the desk which was inches from overtaking him in height. He wheezed as he came to a stop, his waistline must have grown three inches since she'd last seen him. That was this morning.
“Sargent, I observed the deal and gave chase as instructed, but when I came down to street level, this Citizen obstructed me.”
“Why didn't you avoid him? Why didn't you call for backup.” The Sargent burbled.
“My communicator was destroyed in the altercation. I couldn't-”
“Excuses. File your reports and get out of my sight.” The Sargent turned and began waddling back towards his office. Mariana stood there, stunned. By this time, the guards had come to collect Dugalo.
“Th-that’s it?” She was stunned by his leniency. Dugalo chuckled, drawing Mariana's attention, and mouthed something that only she noticed.
Thank you.
A guard returned Mariana’s handcuffs that they had swapped for stone shackles and began guiding him away. Mariana watched them go till they passed through the doors to the cells and disappeared.
Thank you? Mariana thought, What could he be thanking me for? She grabbed her papers and wandered over to a bench. Assaulting an Inquisitor is a crime with a serious punishment.
Not as serious as desertion.
Desertion, no matter the reason, was an executable offense if you got caught. It was usually enough to dissuade most from walking away. But there were a few who just couldn't cope.
Soul Magnum was a powerful tool that the Inquisition highly regulated. The citizens were encouraged to believe that the superhuman abilities of the Inquisitors came from Inquisitor training, which wasn't entirely true. Technically anyone could use Soul Magnum if they learned, but you would have to have both grueling training, and natural talent to be able to have any substantial power. Half of the point of the aptitude tests in the academy was to screen for potential new recruits who met the physical, as well as psychological necessities. This included a high potential in Soul Magnum and all of this happened while they were still young enough to be indoctrinated into the Inquisition. The other half of the reason for the tests was to sieve out witches.
Mariana rubbed her temples in an attempt to dissipate her already growing headache, she took one look at the stack of paperwork, eyed Charlie, who looked over and gave a shrug that said. As long as it's done and on my desk by tomorrow, I don't care.
She nodded thankfully in response before grabbing her things and heading home.