“I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”

Tallah had half-expected some inane screamed battle cry out of the boy and was surprised by Vergil’s actual calm, measured voice. Even if it was still weak, it held a certain resonance that she found pleasing.

He was barefoot and wore only a pair of green trousers embroidered with the same white leaf pattern that was common in the hospital. He had filled up somewhat, though he remained pale and gangling, his cheeks drawn in and hollow. He had brown eyes and a mess of shaggy mousy-grey hair that had grown down over his eyes. All in all, a stark contrast to the half-dead wretch she’d spared in the caves, with promise left over.

Sil inspected him a lot more carefully, relentless and impervious to his obvious discomfort. She looked at his sunken cheeks, the different shades of colour in his hair, how his arms shook, and more. She’d been peppering both he and Aliana with questions about his recovery for the better part of a bell’s strike. After how much she’d chewed her ears off back in the caves, now she was mothering the sod.

“We’re going to need to work on you,” she finally said. “I am very impressed with your work, Aliana. He’s unrecognisable.” She stopped behind the boy, squinted and smiled. “I see you got rid of that tattoo he had. Good.”

Aliana gave Tallah a look of pure and obnoxious triumph.

“You could stand to learn some of her manners. It would do you a world of good if you showed proper gratitude to those of us putting up with you.”

Tallah rolled her eyes and waved away the notion. Aliana would see gratitude from her on the same day she saw the back of her own head. Maybe even the day after that.

“They brought you in, Vergil.” Aliana was at her most motherly at the moment, still playing the concerned caregiver. They all sat in her office. Vergil tired easily so two other priestesses had helped him come up from the care rooms.

“I-I think I know that. I remember two women in the cave but it’s all hazy. I can’t remember much…”

He teared up and sniffled as a shadow passed across his face. They waited for him to calm down.

His voice cracked when he tried to speak again. “Is it normal that I feel numb?” he asked without looking at any of them in particular. “I think I should be feeling… I don’t know. Different. Sad? But there’s nothing. Are you sure my friends haven’t revived at the Guild’s Chapel?”

He kept his gaze downcast, only rarely stealing glances at them. Tallah couldn’t help but notice how he kept squeezing his hands together.

“Isadora is not the most reliable goddess,” she said. “And it’s probably for the best that your friends have passed on. Revivals aren’t… safe.” Of course the Guild had promised him what they usually did, that it was possible for fallen adventurers to be revived by the patron goddess if their valour and morals were high. Isadora favoured the aelir on Nen and couldn’t give a rat’s arse for humans.

She turned to Aliana.

“You did great work. I wasn’t expecting him to be coherent.” The compliment was given begrudgingly but it was honest.

“It’s why you brought him to me. I don’t do less than great work.” She had her hand protectively on Vergil’s arm. The message was clear: pay up or he’s not going anywhere.

Sil produced a small, ornate box out of her satchel. It was just a hand’s width across, gold trimmings on ebony with a mirror shine. When she opened the lid, the room flooded with emerald light. It drowned out all other colours and shaded all shadowy nooks in deep black. A sliver of irregular green crystal lay at the bottom of the box, nestled in its padded interior.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t pay in anything I can actually use.” Aliana shielded her eyes from the glow and reached out for the box. “What is it?”

Tallah grinned. “That is one of the few slivers left of Salmek’s Illum Hearth after it detonated. It’s dead, so you needn’t worry about Hearth’s Flame or any other ill effect. We had it appraised in Drack at almost a hundred thousand Valen griffons. It should cover him, me, my debts and your discretion all at once. I’m pretty sure it also covers whatever fancy drinks I ever nicked off you.”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Insanely valuable for a piece of glowing crystal. Have you gone daft?”

Tallah savoured the look of surprise on Aliana’s creased face. She so rarely got to see the old beast gaping.

“Perfectly sane, thank you so very much.” She taped the crystal lightly. “You can make a Shard Pair out of this. Either get your goddess to break it in two for you, or find a resonant for it. Regardless, I think it worth giving you a gift that the Empire would burn a city for.”

Aliana reached over for the box and closed its lid smoothly.

“Where do you even go to get something like this?”

Tallah raised a finger to her lips and winked at the priestess.

“You got paid and our debts got squared several times over. I’m not telling you more until I actually owe you more.”

“If you ever shush me again, Tallah, I’ll see you banned from this place for the rest of your unnatural days.” Aliana peeked under the lid of the box again like a curious child, turning her dark eyes bright green.

Her threat was genuine but not one she hadn’t made before. If Tallah had a griffon for every time the two of them butted heads, she’d have paid that and kept the shard.

“You’ll get over it, I’m sure. We’ll be moving on come Thaw and it may be a while until we circle back again. The heart grows fonder in absence, or something of the sort.”

Aliana looked over to Sil, who confirmed this with a silent nod.

“You take care of yourself, Adana, since you insist on letting this lunatic lead you astray.”

“I’ll miss you too, Aliana.” Tallah smiled and wanted to rise from her chair. “Get us a couple of girls to help dress the boy and we’ll be on our way.”

“Sit your arse back down, girl. We’re not done yet.” It was Aliana’s turn to point the sorceress down with a self-satisfied dramatic gesture. “My girls had their memories of Vergil purged last night, as per our standing agreement. I will do the same for myself once you’re gone, be assured of that.”

“We don’t need confirmation, Aliana,” Sil said. “Your word is good enough. It has always been.”

Even Tallah nodded.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course you trust me. Mine’s the only word worth a damn in this city.” She shook her head and looked over to the boy. “No, this concerns Vergil. We had trouble purging his trauma. Something fought us every step of the way. If we picked clean a cluster of memory, it got restored before we finished working on the next. I admit we got creative with blocks rather than the more stable wipes.”

“Trauma?” Vergil tried to interrupt, but was pointedly ignored.

“There’s metal in the boy’s head. And it’s a living sort. Whatever we tried to do, it undid. I’ve never seen anything like it, metal that thinks. It’s built like a kind of mesh in his head and gave one of my girls an ugly shock when she tried to reach into it. She’s still being cared for.”

“I told you not to mess with whatever you found out of place,” Tallah said.

Aliana shook her head. “It wasn’t the magical block, sorceress. We found that and the girls kept clear of it. That’s a completely different nastiness, alien to him. This was something that is part of his head.”

“Are you talking about my network implant?” Vergil asked.

All six eyes turned on him.

“Your what?” Sil reacted first, her interest suddenly piqued.

Tallah could see her eyes brighten.

The idea of a living entity in the boy’s head, something artificial perhaps, was now squarely in Sil’s area of interest. She had talked about a very vague idea of something like that from his memories, but it was so basic that it meant nothing to either of them.

Vergil pressed a bony finger to his temple, tracing a line to the back of his head.

“I have a microchip implanted here. It’s a… uh, call it a thing that does complex thinking for me.”

Tallah shushed him. This was exactly what she wanted out of him but this wasn’t the place. Rather, she worried about other things from what Aliana said.

“Should we worry about the work you did on him? How likely is he to go loopy again?”

The priestess shrugged.

“Can’t say. We’ve built blocks and reroutes for stressful stimuli, but I can’t be completely sure of that kind of work. You know too well how fickle these fixes are and how memories bleed. I can’t say what could trigger him, but I do advise you keep him on a tight, short leash. The less you stress the boy, the better.”

She drummed her fingers on the lid of the ebony box.

“I would worry,” she mused, “about that helmet. I’m not convinced that enchantment is without risk. I would rid myself of the thing if I were you.”

With her warnings delivered, she called two other women in and had Vergil changed and discharged from her care. Mother Aliana had been dismissed in favour of the efficient priestess. She’d been paid and Vergil ceased to exist for her. Outside her door, those seeking her aid were legion.