Of course, an investigation would happen. Ione could have made it look like an accident, but she knew that nothing would come of that, so she had to devise a way to find out who Belan answered to.

It was a couple of days after Sannie's death when Ione was called into Belan’s office, her arrival accompanied by Coranne.

“So, I’m not allowed to sit in these interviews with you,” Coranne pouted, “even though I should be, but don’t be afraid or nervous. Just answer truthfully and you should be out quickly,” she gave her a small smile and rubbed her back, “I’ll be waiting just outside for you.”

If only Coranne knew she could never answer truthfully.

Ione nodded and then knocked on the wooden door. She heard a muffled, “come in,” from the other side and the little girl pushed open the entrance, giving Coranne one last glance as she made her way inside the fabled room. Two extravagant chairs faced each other, divided by an imposing wooden desk placed in the middle of the room. Bookshelves lined with tomes framed the aforementioned desk, while a few lamps in the form of sconces hugged the painting-filled walls. Ione took one look at the pictures and nearly wanted to walk right back out; the canvases displayed gruesome scenes of war that depicted humans taking victory, gory, bloody images of elven heads on pikes were seared into her brain and she nearly wanted to vomit. It was one thing to read and learn about war, but to see this kind of artwork glorifying it in the name of extreme patriotism was something she didn't know she would have to stomach while being in this room.

Much like many things in her life, she ignored it and looked at the people the room contained.

Belan stood beside her desk, her skeletal build hunched over as her blue eyes took in the little girl. Her nun attire swallowed her, which made the pendant of Gostra- the god the church followed, look heavy upon her chest. However, Belan wasn't alone. A tanned man of great stature was standing near the far chair. He wore a brown leather tunic and pants underneath a black coat that was decorated with bits of silver-looking armor; a pauldron on his shoulder, straps of metal going across his chest and plates going down his legs. Ione distantly noted that the metal was covering arterial locations. His long brown hair was tied behind his head in a simple ponytail, and his brown eyes stared Ione down as she walked further into the room. He didn't have any weapons on his person, but Ione could feel that he was dangerous.

“Ione, this is Tervail. Tervail Morns.” Belan gestured to the man and he nodded, “he’s from the far kingdom of Golden Heights, and he’s here to talk about Sister Sannie. Remember to be kind and respectful,” she gritted out.

Ione nodded and looked at the man under her lashes, he shot Belan a look, and with a face that could kill, she walked out of the office, leaving Ione and Tervail alone.

“Ione, is it?” He gave her a smile, full of teeth, straight and white. “Why don’t you have a seat?” He waved his hand towards the chair closest to her.

Without much acknowledgement, she went to sit and he did the same. Tervail quickly got comfortable in the cushioned chair and leaned forward.

“You’re not that talkative are you?”

Ione thought for a second, “not really.” She shrugged.

“Well, I’m more than fine with that, I just have a coupla' questions then you’ll be good to go.” He paused and then leveled a heavy stare.

“Do you know what happened to Sannie?”

“She died in her sleep, right?”

He laughed, “if it was that simple, we wouldn't be having the conversation. I know you’re a smart girl, I'm sure you know that Sister Sannie really didn’t pass in her sleep.”

Oh, for fuck's sake. Ione wanted to roll her eyes so bad. His attempt to be charming wasn't going to work for him when Ione knew exactly what he was doing. This was his attempt to build some sort of rapport with her to lure her into a sense of safety and trust so that she would spill whatever she knew.

It was quite telling that she was the first one to be interrogated.

“My sister, Fellis, told me that Sister Sannie died in her sleep. And Sister Coranne told me too! They weren't lying, were they?”

His brows furrowed, “No, no, they weren't lying.”

“Then why would you say that I know Sannie didn’t die in her sleep,” Ione pouted and said, “I know what I’ve been told,” then crossed her arms.

Irritation flashed across his face, “All I’m looking for is the truth, Ione. Were you outside of your room the night Sister Sannie died?”

“Um, I went to the bathroom,” she answered.

“You didn’t sneak outside?” He pressed.

Ione wasn't sure how to answer this without dinging some sort of lie detection radar she was sure this guy had. She couldn't give a yes or no, and unfortunately she couldn't ask for a lawyer.

Her eyes widened, “Oh! Sneaking, like this?”

The white-haired girl hopped off the chair and exaggeratingly pretended to sneak, pinning herself low to the ground and crawling.

His hand covered his mouth slightly as he chuckled, “something like that.”

Perfect. She hoped that by going with that absurd performance that she could avoid any sort of lie detection. If that was what the question now referred to, then maybe she could fool the skill. She stood up and huffed.

“No, I didn't sneak.” It was a gamble.

He nodded and stared at her. She shifted in her seat, pretending to be uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

“Did you hear or see anything at all that night?”

“No, except for the spiders that creep in the corner my bed is in.”

“I mean, anything particularly unusual.”

She shook her head, “I didn't feel so good so I just wanted to stay in bed. Sister Coranne let me sleep in a little bit so that I could feel better.”

“So there was nothing you noticed. Nothing at all?”

“Um, I think I heard the door open and close sometimes, but I don’t know. It’s like that every night when we need to get some water or go to the bathroom.”

Ione suddenly was paranoid that he had a tracking skill. If they weren't interrogating her first because of her heritage, then it might have been because they had tracked her down right to her bed. Yet, just as the thought came into her mind, it left under the helping hand of [Multitasking], allowing her to rationalize that if they truly thought they had evidence, they would have arrested her, or done whatever is this world’s equivalent.

He watched her again, “You know, I’ve never spoken with an elf before. It might just be because your mother is human, but you’re not that different from a normal human child, save for the…markings…on your face. And your ears.”

Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious, asshole.

The little girl didn't know how to react to that, so she just used her hand, feather light, to brush over the ridges on her cheekbones, one of the clearest tell-tale signs of her race, besides the pointy ears.

“Yes, those ones. Hopefully, when you get your class and start having children, your spawn won’t carry over those wretched genes.”

She muttered, “yeah, hopefully.” Then she perked up, “I have a question!”

He gestured for her to continue.

“What’s the Kingdom of Golden Heights like?”

He huffed, “I’m sorry Ione, I wish I could tell you, but I’m not here to give lessons, you’re going to have to ask somebody else for that.” He stood up, “that concludes the interview, you may go now.”

Ione thought that was a remarkably abrupt end. She wondered if he thought she would start a deluge of questions and that’s why he hastily booted her out. Regardless, she was happy that she came out relatively unscathed.

She met Coranne outside, interrupting her and Belan's hushed conversation.

Before Ione could get word out Belan rushed past her and into her office, accidentally leaving the door open a crack, and Coranne looked to the little girl in concern.

“Are you okay, Ione? Everything go alright?”

“Yeah! I’m all good.” She beamed.

As long as Ione had Coranne’s eyes on her, with the help of [Prey Sense], she could hear the muffled conversation behind the nearly closed door,

“So?” Belan asked.

“Nothing. I didn’t get anything from the elf, even though you were certain she had something to do with it,” he snarled.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“You didn't talk with her for that long, you should call her back in.”

“I will not. And you will not waste my time. I don't know who killed Sister Sannie, but it wasn't a damn child. I suspect it was one of the other nuns.”

Soon enough Coranne ushered her away from the door. Ione was confident she got away scot free.

~~~~~

So, life continued. In the ensuing months Coranne proved to be a much better teacher than Sannie ever was, on account that she didn't spend nearly as much time forcing the kids to take care of baby dolls all day. The girls actually went out to play and have fun. Smiles adorned faces more frequently than before and when mistakes were made there was no punishment; physical or otherwise. Ione was actually allowed to go to the library under Coranne's care.

Ione couldn't have asked for a better replacement.

There was also the issue of the nun in charge of the boys. Ione frequently thought about them and wondered what she could do.

Maybe I could do the ole’ pencil trick again? Nahhh.

It was absurd. Despite her reaction to killing Sannie it seemed she was itching to do it again. She tried to repeat the same justifications. Yet, they rang hollow.

It’s child abuse. It’s for the greater good. It’s something that needs to be done. It seemed she wanted to kill those who she believed enacted injustices. She wouldn't allow this to keep happening. Although she knew most of the nuns in this institution participated, she couldn’t kill all of them, could she?

No, she couldn't, maybe a few however. She thought of making a calling card, calling them out for the abuse to dissuade others, but that would only leave more evidence with which they could find her.

Regardless, Ione vowed to kill another nun. This time knowing no amount of excuses could justify her actions.

She had to own them. Her actions were her own. It wasn't because the world was akin to a game- although that didn't help, at all- but because she knew what she was doing and she was doing it for her own reasons.

No more excuses.

Tomorrow, she will start planning. Currently, she was laying in bed, well after everyone had gone to sleep. Her whirling mind kept her awake and she decided the first course of action was to ask Coranne if they could do some co-ed activities with the boys. She knew Coranne would pull through for her, some way or another.

With that, Ione fell asleep.

~~~~~

Upon waking, Ione was met with the strangest piece of information.

The nun in charge of the boys, Sister Neve, was dead.

Fellis took great pleasure in telling her that, for some odd reason.

Color her surprised and a little miffed. She wanted to get a second quest she could complete, but beggars can’t be choosers, she supposed.

She snorted. Her first kill she threw up after and now she's disappointed that she couldn't have a second one.

Is this how serial killers start?

She didn't want to think about it too much. What she did want to think about was who killed Neve.

Murder mystery?

She loved adding new genres to the story.

No, Ione could find out easily who did it. She just had to find where the dead body was, or where she died, and then use [Tracking] to find the culprit. Easy peasy.

Now, she had to find where she died.

She completed her morning routine with a slowness she had started to enjoy ever since Sannie died, the woman was a drill sergeant and when the girls had awakened she wouldn't let them rest, save for eating. Although she was grateful that on the day of Sannie's death the older woman let her rest after she cut her arm open. Ione suspected healing the wound took a lot more out of her than she let on. Whatever the case, Sannie made a rare exception for a Half Elf, and that deserved some recognition.

She washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Once again marveling at the water crystals that spouted water whenever she waved her hand over them, their blue glowing hue created a mesmerizing pattern against the stone. She finished up and then went to the cafeteria, excited to talk to Coranne.

The cafeteria proved to be somber, for once both boys and girls of all ages were seated at the tables and all nuns were present too, including Belan. Candles were lit in what she assumed was a vigil. This was something she missed when Sannie died, too busy sleeping the murder away.

A seat was pulled out for her, next to Coranne of course, and she quickly made her way over.

Ione leaned over, her voice quiet and Coranne angled her ear, “when will this be over?”

Coranne covered her mouth, “soon, have some patience Ione, a Sister just died.”

Ione raised a brow, “Since when did you care? From what I saw you didn't care about Sannie passing away.”

“Well. Sannie and I had, let’s say, a lot of differences. Neve, on the other hand, was a lot more forgiving. Mind you she wasn't the best, but she tried at least.”

Thinking on that statement, Ione nodded, pretending to understand. In truth, she didn't. Wouldn't it be best to have ‘the best’ when it came to kids? Not to have people trying, but for people to be?

It was one thing to try, but these were children’s futures. Trying always implies a higher risk of failure.

She had seen a lot of failure.

Ione shook her head, Coranne wasn’t a perfect teacher, but she was certainly trying to be. She had also made mistakes, so if she can extend that forgiveness to Coranne then she supposed she could also extend it to Neve- if what Coranne said was true. Sometimes people were different behind closed doors, and Coranne had only seen one part of Neve that she projected. Ironic, because that was what Ione was doing.

Ione wanted to ask the boys for their opinion, but that had to wait.

Belan's booming voice rang out, the weathered old lady looked in disdain towards the children, her mouth curled up in a state of disgust.

Jeez lady, if you hate kids then why have a job that involves them?

“Hello, one and all. All hail Gostra, the light of our ways and the avatar of Righteousness. We gather here today to mourn our fallen sister, Sister Neve. Who passed away due to means untreatable.”

A smirk would have decorated Ione’s face if she wasn't surrounded by people. Belan wasn’t even going to name a cause for her death.

‘Untreatable means’ was code for ‘she was murdered and we have no idea who did it.’

Ione glanced at the boys. All their attention was on Belan; except for one.

Dark-haired, pale, with brown eyes, he was looking at Coranne with an eyebrow raised and Ione stared long enough until he moved his gaze to her, blinking owlishly before moving his attention to Belan.

Hmmmmm

She leaned over and whispered to Coranne, “was Neve in her room?”

Coranne nodded.

“Was it from someone here?”

Pursing her lips, she nodded again.

She leaned back. Then looked at the boy again.

He was looking at her. He smelt like old blood.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Ione was a big believer in instincts and hers were screaming that this boy wasn't who he seemed.

She stuck her tongue out at him, his eyebrows raised, and then she turned to Belan, her crotchety voice droning on about how ‘Neve would be sorely missed’ and ‘another investigation will have to happen’. Even Coranne dabbed at a few tears in the corners of her eyes and Ione rubbed her back.

I suppose some reconnaissance is in order, she thought.

~~~~~

The day went by as fast as Ione let it, which was unfortunately long and grueling. She couldn't stop thinking about that boy from earlier.

Why did thoughts of him plague her? There was something she recognized. Something in his gaze that reminded him of hers.

She was glad that she was able to pass by him when they left the cafeteria, once she got to Neve’s room then she'll know for sure.

As the girls were getting ready for bed, Fellis approached Ione.

“Hey, Ione.”

Ione glanced at her in the mirror and took the toothbrush out of her mouth, turning around. Fellis appeared agitated.

“What’s up, Fellis?”

“Well, I saw Kine looking at you earlier today. Why?”

Oh. My God. One thing Ione thought wasn't going to happen, was happening

“Who?”

“You know, Kine!” She gestured wildly.

“Fellis you know I don't hang out with many people. I don’t know who Kine is,” she said.

“Well, he’s got black spiky hair and brown eyes, handsome. Looks like a prince,” Fellis added, dreamily.

A shiver of disgust ran across Ione’s skin. She’s talking about that weirdo who was staring at Coranne.

"Okay, yeah. What about him?

"Do you like him?" Her wide gold eyes were imploring.

Ione wanted to sink into the floor. “Nope no. Never. I will never like that kid in that way.”

“Why?”

“Fellis, isn't it enough to know that I just don't feel anything towards him, why do you have to know why?”

“I don’t know.”

Ione wanted to roll her eyes, “I just don’t like him, he reminds me of me.”

Fellis giggled, “that's funny, but what do you mean? That you both stare at people?”

Ione laughed, “That, and he definitely seems to know more than he’s letting on. I have my suspicions, but please don’t hang around him. He's not quite right.”

“What he’ll do?” Her owlish eyes blinked innocently.

Ione nodded. “Please, for my sake? Just, he’s not quite right.”

Fellis nodded, “Okay Ione, I won’t. But if this is you messing with my chance at true love, you’ll regret it!”

“Yes, yes, I’ll regret it,” Ione said laughing, "now please, go to bed, I have to finish up and I'm super tired.”

“Oh! Okay...” A disappointed frown marred Fellis’ features.

“Hey, we’ll talk about this later okay? I’m just tired right now. When you’re tired you don’t want to keep talking do you?”

Fellis shook her head, and then smiled, opening her lips before quickly clapping her hands over her mouth then scampering out of the bathroom.

Ione felt like she just parented a child. While being 8 years old herself.

Strange times I'm living in.

Before finishing her routine, Ione called out.

“Coranne? I know you’re out there.”

Slow and measured footsteps made their way from the entrance into the bathroom, then to about 2 feet left of Ione.

“Ione, what in Gostra’s name was that?”