As the soldiers closed in around me, I noticed details.

Their insignia was a gavel-like hammer, sewn in red upon the left lapels of their black jackets. The very same insignia that the Inquisitor bore. I assumed that these were the Inquisitor’s personal command.

The soldiers were predominantly men, but there were women among their number as well. They appeared even harsher than the men did, with cracked and weather worn faces. The wear and tear of a life of travel, or of someone that spent most of their time outdoors.

When they closed in, one of them retrieved a black collar and finely wrought chains, both made from a matte black material that clinked.

One of the women stepped forward, slotting out the artificed pin-like key from the collar, and holding it out at my neck height.

The soldier looked upon me expectantly.

I felt a knee-jerk reaction to resist. But now that I had been surrounded, I had no chance of making a clean escape. A failure to cooperate now would only burn whatever amount of trust and goodwill I had garnered.

With a twinge of self-loathing, I slowly stepped into the collar and lifted my chin, lowered my shoulders, and felt the cold metal snap locked around my neck.

Unpleasant weakness swept through me. My Marks had been sealed.

The soldier with the chains came next. “Arms,” he grunted.

I shrugged an empty sleeve.

He gazed upon me with a dispassionate air. To him, I was not a person. Just a portion of his duties. A potentially hazardous material to be sorted and dealt with. Since I had met humans in this world, I had grown somewhat used to the treatment.

“Place it to your side, then,” he ordered.

Without much other choice, I complied, though I kept an eye upon the pin-like key that the female soldier had collected, and I only paid enough attention to the man and the chains to tilt my arm sideways, so that the wider portion of the wrist was perpendicular to my waist. It would not allow me much slack, but more than anything else.

The man finished wrapping my arm to my side, before sliding a padlock between the links to lock the chain in place. Ordinarily, a chain would fall, or could be wiggled out of. This one almost felt elastic though, always tightening, but never strangling. It was an odd, very odd material.

As the soldiers finished restraining me, the Inquisitor called them to attention.

“Status,” the Inquisitor said in his firm baritone.

“Finished securing the prisoner,” the female soldier remarked. “Sealed and bound.”

“Muzzle?” he prompted, not even sparing a glance towards me, rather focusing upon Muleater. He was frowning, in disapproval. Had Muleater done something that I had missed?

The female soldier glanced back at the soldier that had brought the bindings. They both exchanged winces.

“Is it… uhm, necessary, sir?” the female asked. The officer amongst the soldiers, the man wearing the cap, bit his lips.

After a pause, “Yes,” the Inquisitor answered. “Is there an issue?” He frowned, but still not taking his eyes off Muleater. “Also–confiscate this woman’s swords. I cannot believe I have to order this. It should have already been accomplished.”

The female soldier glared at the one with the kit bag, and the officer with the cap grimaced further. After a silent conversation amongst the soldiers and the officer, the officer sighed.

“It appears,” the officer said, “That our gear has been pilfered or improperly stocked.”

“That… is unfortunate,” the Inquisitor said. “Watch the creature’s teeth then. It may carry diseases.”

Muleater coughed, “Sir, I can attest–”

“-Yes, I am certain you may collude with your pet. Unless you wish to be gagged as well, lieutenent, you will remain silent for the duration of this march.”

“Yes, Inquisitor,” Muleater said, snapping a halfhearted salute.

Despite the Inquisitor’s wings, he accompanied us back towards camp. He marched towards the front, trusting his soldiers to keep pace behind him. Muleater marched ahead of me, flanked by two soldiers, and I was flanked with two more.

I continued taking in all the details I could. Belts laden with purses, pockets with non-uniform line-breaks, and the small breast-pocket where the officer had collected the key to my collar.

I would not be losing track of that, at least not if I could help it.

As we went, I tried catching Muleater’s eye the one time she glanced over her shoulder my way, but the soldiers flanking me called out the indiscretion, and she was snapped at to keep her eyes forward.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, except I struggled to keep up and had to be partially supported. One of the side-effects of having my Marks sealed: everything felt much heavier.

Within another quarter of an hour, we had reached the periphery of the camp, where jagged slate rocks had been piled up in an odd attempt of a bulwark. Sentries were stationed every fifty feet around the camp, and short towers had been erected at each corner of the ‘walls.’ And while I wanted to describe the mounds of sharp and unstable stone as walls, they only came to three or four feet tall.

I supposed they were more to break a charge than anything.

As we neared the entrance, where a gap in the ‘walls’ stood, several soldiers gathered from inside the camp, along with the sentries.

Another officer hailed the Inquisitor.

“Ho, what has the inquisition returned with?!” the officer shouted. He jumped upon a wooden pedestal near the entrance to gain a better look at both Muleater, then myself. I could not help but notice his smirk as he saw me. “Has the bird brought back his prey, or has a cat dragged back the bird?”

Several of the soldiers chortled at the atrocious and irreverent humor. The Inquisition looked on with hard faces, and the Inquisitor remained impassive.

“Will you challenge us on today’s codes?” The Inquisitor demanded.

“Depends,” the officer shot back. “Will you write us up if we don’t?”

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After a pause, the inquisitor answered, “Yes. Procedures exist for a reason.”

“Ha! That tells me alone it’s you. Head on in and show your guests around.”

While I observed, I felt surprised that the soldiers would treat the Inquisitor with such disrespect, when Muleater and the soldiers with the gavel had walked warily around him. Was this typical behavior? For some reason, I doubted it. The Inquisitor had been called a bird–was this another example of discrimination against non-humans then? I thought, perhaps, yes.

It might have also been a departmental rivalry. The soldiers within the camp wore a purple flower of some kind for a sigil. I wanted to ask who that represented, but I had no chance before I was nudged forward to keep walking.

I could always find out later.

We headed through a central avenue between the tents towards the center, when we were intercepted once again, this time by familiar faces.

“Aunt Janet!” Kate shouted, rushing towards us and ignoring the foul glare from the Inquisitor. “You’re–you’re alive!” Kate was sweaty, and carried a wooden practice sword. Because of course she had found a chance to spar and practice her bladework while in a war camp.

Following Kate, came Gregory. Notably, he was not sweaty, but instead carried a travelworm book.

Muleater only had eyes for Kate, however, and ignored Gregory completely. Upon seeing her niece, Muleater allowed a gasp, almost a sob of relief, to pass. “You made it… I wasn’t sure, but praise the Crown you did.”

“Yeah! We found Princess Marissa’s army as we escaped. We were not about to trek all the way back home without supplies. Isn’t that right?” Kate asked, slapping Gregory and sending his smaller body stumbling forward.

Gregory winced, barely catching his book from falling.

While Muleater and Kate caught up, the Inquisitor was ill amused. His lips grew tighter and tighter, until finally he seemed to be able to stand it no more, and he snapped his wings, sending a miniature shockwave of, drawing our attention, and silencing the humans.

“Touching,” he sneered. “But we have business to attend. Stand aside, Sir Kate.”

“What… what sort of business?” Kate asked, suddenly somewhat nervous.

“The inquisitorial kind,” he said.

Kate opened her mouth, about to protest, but another spoke first.

“Let them have the moment, would you?” A new voice said in a lilting, feminine voice.

It was a woman in a travel dress, with long riding boots covering her visible ankles. The dress itself screamed wealth, with an immaculate thread count, but there was little else in the way of finery. Just a fine gray dress, with an amethyst encrusted brooch of a lily pinned to her breast. Her eyes were chocolate, her skin dusted and tan, and her hair black.

“Lady Trigg,” the Inquisitor said. “We must verify that Lieutenant Muleater is clear of all taint and suspicion. She may have colluded with the wyrkwik.”

The woman, Lady Trigg, apparently, rolled her eyes and sashayed forward, stopping just inches from Muleater, practically nose to nose.

“Then let us settle the matter quickly,” Lady Trigg said, smiling, sharing Muleater’s air. “Are you who you said you are?” Lady Trigg asked.

Kate tried answering, but Lady Trigg held a gloved finger to cover Kate’s mouth, sending Kate into a sputtering silence.

“Yes, ma’am,” Muleater answered, though seemingly uncomfortable with the near proximity of the woman.

Lady Trigg’s smile broadened, and she continued. “Were you infested or infected or somehow bearing animated plantlife anywhere upon you?”

Kate looked horrified at the possibility, and began to protest, but Muleater beat her to it.

“No, ma’am,” Muleater answered once more.

“Hmm…” Lady Trigg tapped her chin dramatically, before shrugging. “She’s clean.”

“But she could have foiled your skill!” the Inquisitor growled, protesting. “We have more accurate tests to perform. Infestation is no slight matter. A slightest bit of rot can quickly spread, should it not be burnt out. Just look at the jungle colonies.”

“Ugh, fine,” Lady Trigg said. “Then let me do a manual inspection.” Lady Trigg licked her lips.

Muleater swallowed audibly, and I was not sure I blamed her. Lady Trigg carried an intensity about her that left the small of my back tingling.

“Lift your arms above your head.” Lady Trigg ordered.

Muleater winced, but did so, revealing the wear and tear of her tunic, and her grimy armpits. I had seen worse, of course. And so had most of the soldiers. Despite that Kate must have also seen worse, at the sight of Muleater’s underarms, Kate gagged. The strange woman of authority appeared indifferent, besides her scrunched nose.

“Won’t be taking you home any time soon,” Lady Trigg said. “But otherwise, the lieutenant seems free of infestation otherwise.

“Lady Trigg, please!” The Inquisitor protested.

Lady Trigg sighed. “Very well. Just to be safe… spin for me.” Lady Trig held a finger over Muleater’s head.

“Par–pardon?” Muleater said, confusion evident.

“I said. Spin.” The woman’s friendly demeanor dropped for just a second, and the hairs raised on the back of my neck. However, the guise quickly went back on, the steel resheathed in a false and friendly demeanor.

Wisely, Muleater complied.

After several spins, Lady Trigg stepped away and clapped her hands. “There! Clean. The personal hand-maid of Princess Marissa has verified as much,” Lady Trigg said. “As you were,” she said, before glancing my way and frowning just ever so slightly.

My hair rose, and I felt as though a predator had just sighted prey. Meanwhile, Muleater sighed in relief, to be out from the very same predator’s sight.

“But we need to debrief her, even if she is clean!” The Inquisitor almost whined.

“You do have a point,” Lady Trigg said, taking her eyes off me. I relaxed slightly. “Very well,” she said, turning back towards Muleater who stiffened immediately. “Report to command in an hour. Until then, your niece may help you situate yourself in camp.”

And with that, the force of nature known as Lady Trigg strode away, before the Inquisitor could protest further.

Everyone except the Inquisitor relaxed slightly. The Inquisitor, for his part, just appeared flummoxed and irritated while seemingly clueless at what to do.

During the pause, Kate’s eyes landed upon me. They widened in shock.

“Y-you! You lived!” Kate exclaimed. “Where–how?! Where’d you go, we looked everywhere! What–”

I started to answer, but one of the guards flanking me shoved my bad side, sending pain flaring through me. I gasped and kept my peace, the point received.

Kate scowled as she saw the harsh treatment, and Kate began moving towards me, but the Inquisitor intervened by blocking her path with a wing.

“I will not humor this any further,” the Inquisitor said. “Take the Lieutenant Muleater per Lady Trigg’s suggestion. Report in an hour to command for debriefing.”

“But–!” Kate started protesting, trying to reach around his wing.

“Do not. Test me.” The Inquisitor seethed. “For I am not completely without teeth. Despite what friendship you have found in court.”

“Al–alright,” Kate gulped.

Muleater sent me a worried look, and Kate appeared very hesitant to leave, but they did all the same, abandoning me to the machinations of the inquisition.

In all honesty, besides breaking me out of custody, there was little that Kate or Muleater could do. And why would they? Even if Kate had seemed happy to see me.

Which meant I was on my own.

But that was fine.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

* Body: 65

* Mind: 75

* Spirit: 49

Talents:

* Athleticism (3/9):

* Climbing I (1/9)

* Featherlight (6/9)

* Stealth I (5/9)

* Trackless Tracks I (1/9)

* Area Coverage (1/9)

* Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

* Eschiver (3/9)

* Evasion (6/9)

Spells:

* Illusion I (5/9)

* Touch (6/9)

* Closed

* Closed

Gifts:

* Obsession (3/9)

* Closed (0/9)

* Closed (0/9)