The chapel's hushed interior seemed to swallow all sound as Margaret followed Aaron and Asha across the threshold. Echoing footfalls and the faint whisper of their mingled breaths were the only accompaniment to the dim, cloistered ambiance.

Despite being a place of worship and shelter for this world’s faithful the chapel didn’t bring her any comfort whatsoever.

At first glance the sacred space appeared little different from the modest country churches Margaret remembered from her childhood. Simple wooden pews faced a raised dais where an intricately carved altar stood before stained glass windows filtering in kaleidoscopic shafts of refracted light.

But as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Margaret's breath caught in her throat. Vivid murals and frescos adorned every inch of the vaulted ceiling and walls in vibrant, unsettling detail.

It would have looked beautiful if not for the violence they were depicting.

Familiar figures loomed above in lurid images - the regal purple-skinned elf standing triumphant over the horned, red-haired figure lying disemboweled at his feet. A lamia-like woman with snakes for hair lying dead on the ground, her severed head hoisted up like a prize by a fairy looking warrior.

Margaret recognized these figures from paintings in the temple. Although, their depiction was far tamer than this unadulterated violence. Here those figures with their faces depicting mournful sorrow were taking so much joy in inflicting pain.

She couldn’t help but wonder, why were they different? And why did people openly celebrate this as a part of their faith?

And more importantly why did one of those men look like the ones she saw Asha turn into that fateful night?

The implications struck so much fear into her heart, feeling as if all the breath had been sucked away from her lungs.

She should have known this was all too good to be true. It followed them here.

The dire warning echoed in her ears once more with dread certainty: There will be no happy endings to be had.

‘Bullshit, I won’t let that happen to my little girl.’

Unconsciously, her hand tightened around Asha's smaller one with bone-crushing force. The little girl looked up at her mother quizzically, all smiles and innocent wonder at their grand surroundings.

Margaret couldn't bear to meet her daughter's bright-eyed gaze. Instead, she forced her own to remain locked forward in a thousand-yard.

Her churning thoughts were broken by Aaron's murmur beside her.

"The cleric makes his quarters through here. I suspect he's awaiting our arrival"

He gestured towards an archway off the side nave, one hand resting lightly on the small of Margaret's back to urge her onward. Though his touch was light as a feather, she felt it scorching through the coarse fabric of her tunic, an icy splinter of dread piercing her heart anew.

Answers awaited her questions soon enough, she realized with grim resignation. Answers that would unravel truths and secrets perhaps better left unspoken.

But she owed Asha - her sweet, brave daughter - the full extent of that knowledge. And maybe in knowing, Margaret could prepare exactly how to avoid such a terrible fate from befalling her daughter. Weather she-would be killed or be the one to kill were both equally devastating.

With a steadying breath, Margaret brushed past Aaron into the shadowed foyer, squaring her shoulders against the burdens still to come.

The soft murmurs of a contemplative voice greeted them, drifting through an open doorway into an antechamber where muted daylight streamed through thick glass windows.

Following the sound, Margaret found the source kneeling before the windowsill in somber repose. An elderly human man clad in simple blue and golden robes, bowed head fringed by a halo of wispy white hair. His rheumy gaze stared out into a modest cloister garden where a handful of young orphans cavorted in the newly-budding greenery.

Sadness and distant melancholy etched crevices into the cleric's sunken features, though his eyes shone with a faint flicker of reassured joy at the boisterous antics unfolding outside.

It was several moments before he seemed to register their presence, inhaling deeply before rising to greet them with solemn dignity.

‘’You must be Margaret and Asha. I welcome you both to our humble town. Please, take a seat.”

“I am Cleric Amadeus, Aaron has told me that the two of you have come a long way, yes? From the Hinterlands no less.”

“Yes, it’s been quite a journey.”

“I must say, you two are quite an interesting pair aren’t you?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he appraised them. "You've clearly journeyed far, good woman. Please, make yourselves comfortable." He gestured to a couple of cushioned chairs before the window. "I would be honored to learn more of your travels and how you came to grace our village."

Margaret felt herself relaxing slightly at his cordial manner, though a knot of tension still lingered in her chest. Guiding Asha to one of the chairs, she settled across from the Cleric with a polite nod. "You have my gratitude for your kind welcome, Sir. We've been looking for a place to call home after a long journey.”

"Indeed?" He leaned forward, steepling his fingers with an interest that seemed genuine. "Then you must regale me with the tales of your journey later. But first, I'm inclined to ask..."

His voiced trailed off as his eyes fell upon an item he pulled from his drawer. He placed the artifacts they had given to the doctor on the table and gave them an inquisitive look.

“Where did you acquire such items?“

Margaret's breath caught in her throat as his kind mask slipped briefly, a flicker of intensity entering his expression. Beside her, Asha shifted uncomfortably, sensing the sudden tension.

Forcing a neutral tone, Margaret carefully replied "We found these in some ruins while we were travelling. They seemed useful at the time."

The Cleric did not respond at first, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of the priceless objects. When he spoke again, his voice was carefully measured. "You must understand, these are hallowed treasures from a bygone era - their rediscovery is a profound event. I must know the full truth of how they came to be in your possession."

His expression was unreadable now, the affable mask utterly shed. "Were you sent here to case our village as scouts for some maleficent cult or demon horde? Let me be clear - any who would seek to defile these sacred lands will face the direst of consequences."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Margaret felt her heart plummet as the subtle interrogation abruptly escalated. She opened her mouth, panic gripping her, but no words would come out. Asha spoke up beside her, indignant on her mother's behalf.

"We're not scouts or any of that! We're just-"

But the cleric waved a hand, silencing her. "Words may be bewitched, child. There is but one way to ascertain the truth here..."

He uttered a spell and outstretched his palms toward them. Slowly, they were covered in a golden, almost divine looking glow.

“If you have nothing to hide, then place your hands in mine and then we will see the truth.“

Margaret's mind raced as she looked into the cleric's eyes, seeing his conviction.. Maybe…. Maybe he could help them? They couldn’t keep running forever, Asha didn’t deserve that kind of life. Margaret wasn’t sure if she could stand to live that kind of life.

But she had to protect her daughter somehow.

If she tried to make things up in her mind, would he know? She could try lying to him and see where that went. She wasn’t sure what magic could really do after all. The only person she’s ever seen perform magic so closely was her daughter and it had always been triggered by an emotional response.

Margaret squeezed her daughter’s hand and looked in her eyes for any sign that something might happen. Worry? Fear? Anger?

But all she saw was her daughter’s trusting gaze that made her think that things might turn out right after all. If it didn’t…. well something would happen and the moment it did she was already planning to break the window and get out of there with Asha as fast as she could. Every plan should have at least one back up plan after all.

She took a deep breath and reached for the cleric's outstretched hands.

Asha, sensing her mother's hesitation, took her cue and followed suit. Their hands met the cleric's, and a surge of energy flowed through them.

Images flashed before Margaret's eyes - Asha's powers, the warriors from the paintings, the village, the treasures... everything.

And then he appeared before them, standing in the middle of the vision. His entire body was encased in a white light, she could barely make up his features as he approached her. Coming ever so close to put two fingers on her forehead and whispered.

Not yet.

Then the visions stopped.

The Cleric blinked, his head tilted to the side as he processed the flow of information. "Yes," he murmured, nodding slowly. "I see. I understand now. You are not what I thought.”

Did he see?

Margaret couldn’t help but worry and feared what the priest would do next. So she decided to beat him to it. Swallowing her pride, her bowed and begged him for mercy.

“Will you please let us stay in this village? We really need a home and we don’t know where else to go. We won’t cause any trouble, we’ll keep our heads down and be part of the town!”

The cleric's expression softened further into one of fatherly kindness. "What are you so sorry for, child? You've suffered greatly, it is I who should apologize for my cold treatment of you both."

Margaret could feel the warm sensation coming from his hand and the gently pulse coming from it. She felt a calmness wash over her mind.

Aaron shifted uncomfortably behind Margaret and Asha as the cleric's demeanor changed so abruptly. One moment he was warm and welcoming, the next his eyes blazed with intensity as he interrogated them about the relics. Aaron found the extreme shift unsettling and suspicious.

As Margaret faltered under the cleric's piercing gaze, Aaron observed Asha closely. For the briefest moment, he could have sworn the young girl's eyes flashed from their usual warm brown to an unnatural amber hue before returning to normal. He made a silent mental note of it.

The cleric sighed deeply, nodding as he released their hands. "Very well...I will speak to the village elders on your behalf about allowing you sanctuary here."

Margaret's eyes widened in disbelief. "Y-you will?"

"It may take some convincing," he admitted. "But my powers have not led me astray thus far. I sense there is more to you both than meets the eye...but not ill intent."

Aaron watched the entire exchange with a furrowed brow, his hand unconsciously drifting to the hilt of his sword. What had the cleric seen or sensed to change his attitude so drastically?

The cleric gave Margaret and Asha a kindly smile. "Thank you both for trusting me enough to share your truth. I know it cannot have been easy, given the circumstances."

He rose from his chair with a groan, gesturing for them to do the same. "For now, you should return to the inn where you're staying. I'll need to confer with the village elders before anything is decided about allowing you sanctuary here."

Margaret stood, still looking somewhat dazed at this abrupt turn of events. "Of course...thank you, Cleric. We're indebted to your kindness."

Asha hopped up as well, beaming up at the old man. "Did you really mean it? That we can stay?"

"Have faith, child," he replied, patting her head gently. "The Light does not lead us astray when we walk its path."

Asha blinked in confusion before grinning. “Neat!“

With that, he ushered them towards the antechamber entrance where Aaron waited with a puzzled frown. As Margaret and Asha passed by, the cleric caught Aaron's eye and subtly gestured for him to remain behind.

Once they were alone, Aaron eyed the cleric warily. "What was that about, Father? What has caused your suspicions to ease?"

The cleric's expression was inscrutable. "I sensed there was more to them than met the eye. Saw glimpses of truths that gave me pause." He fixed Aaron with a meaningful look. "You would do well to keep a very close watch over that mother and daughter."

Aaron felt a prickle along his spine at the weighted words. "You think they could be...dangerous? Or is it something else entirely?"

"Potentially," Amadeus replied cryptically. "Or representatives of something far more profound than either of us yet realize. For now, guard them closely but ensure no harm comes to either of them. We must see where this path leads."

With a curt nod, the cleric turned and strode back towards the chapel nave, leaving Aaron to ponder his words with a deepening sense of confusion and wariness.

Shaking his head, the warrior headed outside where Margaret and Asha were waiting, regarding him with inquisitive looks. He waved them off brusquely.

"The cleric will council with the elders. For now, we're to return to the inn and await word. Let's be off."

As they made their way through the village streets, Aaron couldn't help stealing furtive glances at the unassuming mother and child, wondering just what profound truths the cleric had glimpsed within them. His hand rested on his sword pommel as unbidden.

For all the man's reassurances, Aaron knew he would not rest easily until he discerned what lurked beneath their unassuming exteriors. He only hoped the cleric knew what he was doing by taking them under his wing.

"May I ask what that was?" Margaret turned to Aaron as they exited the chapel, her brow furrowed. "That warm sensation from the cleric's touch?"

Aaron exhaled slowly. "A simple truth spell. One can never be too sure of people's intentions in times such as these."

"Truth spells?" Margaret looked skeptical. "Do those...actually work?"

"They do," Aaron confirmed with a nod. "The spell allows the caster to peer into another's mind and mystically compel them to speak only truthfully. Our order often employs such magic during interrogations and inquiries."

Margaret shuddered slightly. "So he...he saw our thoughts then? Our memories?"

"In a manner of speaking," Aaron hedged. "Though I suspect the cleric only glimpsed surface impressions, not your deepest secrets. Not unless you fought against the spell's influence."

He eyed her shrewdly. "Which I take it you did not, given his change in demeanor after employing the spell."

Margaret shook her head slowly. "No. I didn’t” She replied, a bit too defensively as pulled Asha closer.

The little girl looked up at Aaron with wide, innocent eyes. "The priest seemed nice after that glowy hand trick. He said we could stay!"

Despite himself, Aaron felt a flicker of unease as he met Asha's guileless gaze. There was something about this child that struck him as not quite...normal. A strangeness he couldn't put his finger on.

Asha just grinned back at him sweetly.

Aaron quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "The cleric may have agreed to vouch for you both, but the town elders will have the final say."

His shoulders tense, Aaron urged them onwards back towards the village streets and the inn where they had taken rooms. All the while, he kept stealing sidelong glances at Asha, unable to shake a persistent feeling of being watched himself.

Each time he looked her way, the girl's bright eyes sparkled with innocent mirth...and something else he couldn't name. A depth and knowing beyond her years that puzzled and unsettled him.

Shaking his head, Aaron tried to dismiss the notion as simple wariness and too much time on the road making him imagine things. And yet....

Perhaps the cleric had been right to advise him to keep his guard up where this mother and daughter were concerned.