The Church of Dawn… was scary.
Fifteen couldn’t help but be reminded of that fact time and again throughout the day. It was one of those things that everyone knew, but actually seeing it with her own eyes was harrowing. The witch hunter only needed to use a few words to completely flip her common sense on its head. A new chainmail shirt, a dozen premium staves, a fresh batch of potions, a solid copper wand, a stainless steel field knife, a brand new scribing kit, a ride on a first-class carriage, and a host of other reagents and supplies. This kind of haul would have cost her six months of earnings, yet she got it all in a single afternoon without paying a single coin. Honestly, she didn’t really need half of this stuff and just kind of got caught up in the moment. Now that her shopping spree was over she actually felt bad for just taking whatever she fancied without thinking about it too much.
Though it certainly felt like she’d committed daylight robbery, she did not engage in any unlawful or unethical activity. Brother Tacitus had merely put all her purchases on the church’s tab, something about an ‘emergency operational budget.’ He claimed that anything would be fine so long as it improved their odds of success by even a fraction of a percent, and the frugal sorceress couldn’t resist the temptation to indulge. Her after-the-fact regrets stemmed from the bad feeling she had that this would somehow come back to bite her in the ass. The witch hunter laughed that huge bill off just like he did everything else, but would his superiors be so jovial about this wanton spending?
Indeed, while it was easy to forget because of how that guy was, the organization backing him was bigger than even the guild. Was it really okay for some weirdo foreigner from the mega-boonies to be racking up such enormous expenses? Even if it was an emergency, wasn’t this basically embezzlement? Or extortion? No, wait. Now that she thought about it, the church had always been extremely wealthy. Logically, she understood they had money to burn. She simply struggled to process it emotionally. Like, was it really okay? Where were all these resources coming from? Did the cardinals just shit solid gold nuggets or something? Surely there was something wrong in this picture. The sheer ease with which both she and the merchants got caught up in the whirlpool of ‘unlimited credit’ gave her goosebumps.
So, to reiterate, the Church of Dawn was scary.
“Hahaha! Nice, ain’t it?!” Tacitus roared with laughter. “Well, I’m pretty used to the royal treatment. There’s upsides to always getting the shittiest assignments.”
The two of them were currently aboard the aforementioned first-class carriage. It was such a smooth and quiet ride that Fifteen felt compelled to look out the window just to make sure they hadn’t stopped. Their speed was somewhat mediocre, but since the vehicle was pulled along by an earth mage’s golem it could keep going day and night, so its overall long-distance travel pace was unmatched. The golem was completely autonomous and could understand simple stop and go commands from the passengers should the need arise. The only drawback was that it required a special highway inlaid with earth magic, or else it wouldn’t know where to go. There was no such road that led to Cherrytown, so they had to hoof it to the next city over and catch a ride from there. It was technically possible to just use a normal carriage to cover that first leg of the journey. However, there was a notorious swamp in the way. Heavy vehicles had to circle around quite a bit to avoid getting stuck, so it was actually faster to wade through it on foot since the witch hunter and the sorceress were traveling light. Treading that bog was a profoundly unpleasant journey, but time was of the essence.
Or at least that’s what Brother Tacitus said, but there was not a single hint of urgency in any of his actions. He always seemed to be dragging his feet and even now he lounged on his side of the stagecoach’s interior. Admittedly, it wasn’t as if he could do anything to speed things along at this point, but his attitude didn’t fit his words. That wasn’t the only thing that didn’t add up. Fifteen really should have questioned things sooner, but between the duke’s daughter, dealing with the swamp, and that downright sinful shopping spree, she didn’t really think to stop and assess her situation.
“Why me?”
“Hm? What’s got your sandals in a twist this time?”
“Why did you waste so much time and money on me?”
Though she was confident in her abilities, the Sage of the Sands was far from the only fire-attuned wizard around. Hell, she wasn’t even the only one in Cherrytown, and the Ordo Mystica surely had more accomplished wizards that lived much closer to the infected site. It would only take three days to send someone from the guild’s headquarters in the capital, and yet the church chose to waste two weeks of a witch hunter’s time fetching a foreign element from the frontier. That wasn’t even counting the delay caused by Fifteen’s coincidental absence. Now that she had nothing to do but think, the sorceress couldn’t help but feel like she was being targeted somehow.
“Ahh, don’t worry about it,” the knight brushed off her concerns. “Those geezers at the Round Table do these weird things now and then. It happens a lot. I would know. I’m used to getting the shit assignments.”
Fifteen sighed. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy to get to the bottom of this. But, hearing Brother Tacitus say that made her realize something.
“You don’t choose your assignments?”
“Well, duh. They’re called assignments because they’re assigned.”
“I see.”
This was another of those things that she knew deep down but never really thought about. As strictly as mages were regulated, they could at least choose which jobs to take. Witch hunters didn’t have that freedom, and likely lacked many others as well. She wasn’t about to pity Tacitus, but she could understand where his cynical attitude came from, at least a little.
“Also, I think you got the wrong idea, Miss Name-too-long.”
“… About what?”
“The church doesn’t waste, whether it be time, money, or anything else.”
The man’s unusually deadpan tone gave those words extra weight, but Fifteen knew better by now and waited a few moments for the punchline.
“That’s my job! Hahahaha!”
Another sigh escaped her lips. As usual, he couldn’t speak about anything without making light of it. It was as if he had caught a strange disease that would kill him if he ever took things seriously.
“Though, if I had to take a stab in the dark,” he added, “they probably picked you because you were just right.”
The Sage stared at him silently for a few moments, which then stretched out into minutes. When she heard quiet snores from within that bucket of a helmet, she decided to take the hint and go to sleep as well. The day was over by now and she’d spent most of it thinking, so what Tacitus said brought up something that occurred to her earlier. Whoever was sent to deal with the situation at Roderick would be at serious risk of contracting Logoth’s curse – she refused to call it ‘moon fever’ – and turning into an enemy of humanity. It would be a disaster if that happened to a master or archmage, but throwing a bunch of rookies at the problem would likewise make it worse. The church needed someone who was good enough to get the job done, but not so powerful that they’d become a huge threat should they fail. Fifteen’s magic likely hit that sweet spot. Or, as Tacitus put it, she was ‘just right.’
The rest of the trip went by smoothly in all the ways that mattered. The sorceress spent her time reacquainting herself with an old book of hers. It was a combat manual on how to best utilize fire magic indoors. She’d read it once or twice during her neophyte days and brought it with her to Cherrytown since she assumed it would come in handy. As it turned out, there weren’t many jobs that involved the use of fire magic in someone’s house. In fact, there were none. She’d seen her fair share of caves, mines, and ruins, but she didn’t need to worry about burning those down while she was still inside, which was precisely the type of situation the book aimed to avoid. It had some general tips for close-quarters casting, but the majority of its knowledge went unused and forgotten. Since this job was precisely the sort of thing the manual was intended to help with, Fifteen decided to refresh her memory of its contents. Obviously she didn’t think to pack the tome with her when she first left Cherrytown, so she had Bahm run back and fetch it as soon as she learned more about the situation.
Well, ‘fetch’ was perhaps a misleading word. As clever as he was, it was impossible for a saber-tooth to pick a specific title from the wizard’s private collection. She instead sent him back to the guild with a note explaining the situation and requesting some help. Familiars were often sent on errands like that so it wouldn’t be an issue so long as the gate guards didn’t give him any trouble. She expected people wouldn’t be thrilled to have a saber-tooth prowling the city unsupervised, but Bahm completed his task without any delays or difficulty. A surprise, but a welcome one. Speaking of which, the feline familiar also made good use of the auto-carriage. He couldn’t fit inside, but the vehicle’s roof proved a satisfactory napping spot. Bahm shared Fifteen’s inability to sit and do nothing for days on end, so he spent most of his time exploring the area around the highway while keeping pace with the golem and only came back to rest. The sorceress herself would occasionally lean out the window and discharge her flames into the air just to make sure her inner fire remained properly primed for when she arrived at the site.
Unfortunately, Brother Tacitus proved nowhere near as diligent. He seemed content to marinate in his armor the entire trip and barely ever got up from his sofa-like seat. The only time he got active was when he noticed Fifteen reading her manual or practicing the things outlined inside, but even then it was for the wrong reasons. Apparently, he got a huge kick out of the title of the book and teased her relentlessly about it. There was no denying that Amaan’s Cookbook was a humorous name for a tome on indoor fire magic, but the sorceress was not amused in the slightest. To call him annoying would be an understatement, and also a really bad idea given his authority. The worst part was that she was actually a little self-conscious of her inability to prepare anything but the most basic of meals and, given the subject matter, some of the knight’s jabs unintentionally hit that sore spot.
Things only got worse from there. Once he noticed he could get a rise out of the sorceress, Brother Tacitus seemed to make it his mission to push her buttons at every chance he got. Things like secretly rearranging the order of potions along her belt, hiding her tea leaves, or making weird noises when she was trying to focus. He poked fun at her so much it bordered on bullying. On the bright side he never got physical or destroyed any of her things, nor did it seem like he was acting out of malice. Best as Fifteen could figure he was just riling up the funny foreigner for his own amusement. In any other circumstances, she might’ve handled his antics with more grace and calm, but the mission ahead was fraught with too many unknowns. Despite her mounting frustrations, the Sage of the Sands never once raised her voice or gave into her anger. She didn’t even care about him holding a position of authority over her. At that stage it was a matter of pride. If Fifteen lost her cool, then Tacitus would win, and the sorceress would rather bite her own thumb off than admit defeat to that man-child.
Thankfully, the jester-like attitude lessened significantly once the two of them arrived at their destination. Roderick Asylum was situated in Rumbling Hills, a sparsely-populated region south of the capital and far west of Cherrytown. The area was known for its craggy terrain and frequent quakes, hence the name. The asylum was built in a natural valley surrounded on all sides by steep cliffs and the only safe way to reach it was through a narrow pass. The facility’s immediate area could be likened to a cauldron or crater if the walls were more uniform in shape and height. One might assume the asylum was built here so this natural barrier could help keep people in, but that kind of thing didn’t pose much of an obstacle to a spellcaster. An air or earth mage could easily get on top of those cliffs even without a staff, a wand, or some other focus. A fire or water user would struggle a lot more, but escape was far from impossible. Rather than an asset, the isolated location proved more of a hassle since it made it a pain in the ass for visitors to come and go. Fifteen had no idea why anyone would put an asylum all the way out here rather than in a more accessible location.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
However, as the sorceress approached the main gate she couldn’t help but feel the inconvenient terrain might have been chosen specifically for this kind of scenario, given the vital role it served. The mountainous pass made for an excellent choke point and had guard stations on both ends. It made it easy to contain the outbreak since those afflicted with Logoth’s curse turned practically feral. Though theoretically capable of escaping with air or earth magic or overwhelming the barricades with fire and water, the afflicted lacked the rational thought and free will to take such action. They just wandered aimlessly around the asylum grounds and lashed out at the slightest disturbance. Locking them in and standing far from the fortified passage’s inner gate proved sufficient to contain them.
After seeing the canyon-like terrain and hearing the stationed soldiers’ reports, Fifteen finally understood why the church took its sweet time responding to an ‘urgent’ situation. A quick resolution was obviously preferable, but this wasn’t an emergency that required haste. In other words, she had time to formulate a plan of action. With that in mind, she approached one of the soldiers that Brother Tacitus wasn’t talking to.
“Excuse me?”
“Ack! Uhm, y-yes. Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Ma’am?”
That was the first time anyone had called her that, so she couldn’t help but be confused. And a little insulted. Did she really seem that old? The soldier seemed to sense her displeasure and flinched away as he offered a rushed apology.
“I’m sorry! Please don’t turn me into a frog!”
That nonsense again? Where did these people get that ridiculous idea from? Well, it was fine. He was probably just nervous. From what she’d heard of the asylum so far she judged it was usually a really quiet post, so he no doubt felt way out of his depth. The sorceress was in the same boat, if she had to be honest. She was just better at keeping a lid on things, not to mention she had a full week on the road to get her thoughts in order and knew just where to start. An informed mage was a prepared mage, and a prepared mage was a successful mage.
“I will do no such thing. I just need a map of the area and a list of the afflicted.”
Thankfully, her quiet and level tone seemed to calm the man.
“Ah… Yes, of course. Uh, one moment.”
He ran inside the barracks next to the massive gate and came back out moments later with the necessary documents. It would appear the guards stationed here hadn’t just been sitting on their hands if they had this stuff ready and waiting. The prepared records revealed that Roderick Asylum was a sizable compound with five large buildings and a few hundred permanent residents. Unfortunately it would appear only a fraction were able to escape before the main gate had to be sealed. On paper it looked like security trapped everyone inside just to save themselves, but a single look at the portcullis in question told Fifteen it had been the right call. It had been especially reinforced with lead to repel magic, yet the heavy bars had taken such a beating that it was a small miracle the afflicted were contained. They would have likely broken through if the survivors hadn’t beat a hasty retreat. Without any sort of stimulus, the people– no, the creatures inside likely grew docile and wandered off deeper into the compound.
As for the list of victims, there were 113 people unaccounted for. Of those, 63 were mages – 51 patients, 10 researchers, and 2 visitors. The rest were primarily staff members, all of them presumed dead. Seeing the long list of names laid out like that really made the reality of it all sink in, and even the stoic Sage of the Sands felt the pressure. Actually, that was putting it mildly. The thought of so much death in one place outright terrified her. It might seem silly considering the hundreds of monsters she’d killed, but that was different. The sight of human corpses was something that always deeply unsettled her no matter how many times she had to face it. She felt confident she could deal with the afflicted since they barely resembled their old selves, but the sudden realization that she’d have to step over dozens of actual dead people made her dizzy and nauseous. She was gasping for breath before she even knew it.
“Uhm, ma’am? Are you alright?”
The guard noticed something was wrong and reached out a hand to the suddenly shaky sorceress. He then pulled away and hopped back with a surprised yelp when the saber-tooth – the real reason he was shaking in his boots earlier – approached the queasy woman from behind. Bahm sat next to her, prompting her to turn and catch his keen eye. Though no thoughts were shared between them, his presence alone reassured Fifteen, and her mounting panic attack was defeated before it could fully manifest. Once her breathing stabilized she did her best not to dwell on the casualties and focused her attention on formulating a plan of attack. Though she desperately wished otherwise, there was nothing she could do for the victims but clean this mess up and put their souls to rest.
Easier said than done, of course. The main issue was that two people and a big cat had to take on sixty-plus targets, and Fifteen doubted they’d be kind enough to bunch up into one big crowd so she could blow them all away in an instant. Actually, any kind of direct assault was sure to result in a protracted battle that continuously drew in more and more enemies from surrounding areas. Those afflicted by Logoth’s curse were mostly mindless, but they’d still be drawn to the bright lights and loud noises of magical combat. Conversely, they wouldn’t question if the number of allies around them mysteriously vanished. A stealthy approach was therefore preferable.
Thinking along those lines, the sorceress decided her initial objective would be to infiltrate the asylum’s main building. It was where the more unruly patients were held and was heavily fortified. The interior was sure to be a target-rich environment, but the enemy’s numbers would be diminished in those tight corridors and the thick walls would help contain the sound. Once the building was secure, Fifteen could take her time baiting and luring the roaming afflicted inside – ideally one by one – until the asylum grounds were cleared out. After that it would be relatively easy to mop up whatever was left in the other facilities.
Hardly the most exhaustive plan of attack, but speculation and theory was all the sorceress had to work with at present. Her knowledge of the affliction was full of holes and she had yet to encounter it in person, which made the slow and quiet approach all the more necessary. Ambushing an isolated target was sure to give her all kinds of useful information, not to mention help her get a feel of what this kind of enemy was actually like. She could fine-tune her overall plan of attack after that. The operation could take days, but that probably wouldn’t be an issue. The real challenge was executing those crucial first steps. Bahm was a master at the art of stalking prey and Fifteen felt confident in her own abilities despite her handicap, but that bucket-brained loudmouth was going to be an issue.
“What’cha doin’?!”
As if sensing the insult, Brother Tacitus practically materialized behind the woman and spoke directly into her ear. It took every drop of dignity the sorceress had to keep her from screaming like a little girl, though she could not stop her entire body from jumping in place, dropping the small bundle of documents in her hands.
“Working.”
She was more annoyed than usual, and it showed in her tone. If he had time to play pranks, then shouldn’t he spend it preparing instead?
“Neat! You gonna be done soon?”
“No. Why?”
“Well, it seems there was an oopsie with the medicine cask and it’s gonna go bad in, I don’t know, three hours?”
He thumbed over his shoulder at a large metal keg. Fifteen recognized it. It was already in the carriage’s luggage compartment when she first boarded it, so she didn’t think much of it, but it would seem it was his after all. The ‘oopsie’ no doubt referred to that weird dent along the top rim and the trail of liquid leaking from it. One the guards must’ve dropped the container while offloading it, causing the rupture. Fifteen had no idea what that oddly colored substance was as it was unlike any alcohol, potion, or oil that she’d ever seen. It leaked out as a blue-green liquid, yet dried up and peeled off into brown flakes by the time it reached the bottom of the cask. Whatever it was, it really didn’t like being exposed to open air.
“Wait, medicine?” she asked flatly.
“Yeah. Medicine.”
“For what?”
“Uh, the moon fever? Duh?”
“There’s a medicine for moon fever?”
Though the witch hunter spoke as if this was common knowledge, it was the first Fifteen had ever heard of it, so it was only natural she’d be dumbfounded.
“Of course. How else are we gonna cure the poor saps in there?”
An incomprehensible cocktail of thoughts swirled in the Sage’s head as the true nature of her mission here became clear, though one of them won out in the end.
“Why didn’t you tell me that from the start?!”
She couldn’t help but grab the big idiot by his cloak and violently shake him back and forth as she yelled at him point-blank.
“Do you have any idea, the mental gymnastics I had to put myself through?!”
She spent almost an entire week convincing herself that her targets weren’t people. She kept referring to them as creatures, monsters, and afflicted just so she could stomach the thought of ending so many lives. Yet, seeing the names of all those she was about to murder made her hastily-constructed self-delusion shatter. Deep down, she could not deny their humanity any more than she could her own. With Bahm’s silent help, she was able to somehow focus on the righteous and necessary nature of her task rather than its grim aspects, but she had a feeling she’d never forgive herself for what she had to do.
“I was contemplating getting muted and becoming a nun!”
She kept all of those heavy thoughts bottled up along with the witch hunter’s continuous harassment, so when she learned her inner struggles had all been in vain, she couldn’t help but finally lose it.
“Just drop dead, you fucking donkey!”
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until that explosive finish that she finally realized what she was doing. Physically assaulting and verbally abusing a witch hunter in full view of over a dozen soldiers was… not a good look. No, that didn’t matter. There were more important things to do, so she let go of Tacitus and forced a cough to clear her throat.
“Ahem! My apologies.”
“Ah, forget about it. I already have! Hahaha!”
The others could only stare dumbfounded as the witch hunter and the sorceress effortlessly brushed aside what was easily a heretical outburst.
“I hope you at least remember how to administer the medicine.”
“Oh, that part’s simple. You pop the bumpy bits and I’ll lube ‘em up.”
“Sounds… messy.”
“Heheh. Told you I only get the shit assignments.”
Nobody was more surprised at this turn of events than Fifteen herself. Unleashing all those frustrations in spectacular fashion had left her feeling strangely refreshed and clear-headed. It was as if most of her grievances had vanished in that flash fire of emotion.
“And we only have a few hours before the batch goes bad?”
“Yep, yep.”
“Can we wait until a new one arrives?”
“Us? Sure! The saps? Not so much.”
“… Unfortunate.”
Well, there went her plans for a stealthy and methodical approach. Though, she suspected that idea was doomed from the start. Brother Tacitus didn’t seem like he could even spell ‘subtlety.’ Plan B, then. She didn’t like Plan B. Not in the slightest. Mostly because it involved getting those skittish soldiers involved. Those guys were neither mages nor witch hunters, just simple watchmen. They lacked the knowledge, training, and equipment to go up against those cursed by Logoth. However, they could still be useful as a defensive line and contribute in other ways. There were few practical problems that couldn’t be solved by throwing enough manpower at them.
The real issue was motivating the grunts. Each and every one of them looked like they didn’t want to be here, and the way they avoided Fifteen’s probing, scanning gaze made it clear they had no intention of helping. Well, Brother Tacitus could probably force them into it with his authority, but putting a meathead like that in charge wouldn’t end well. Indeed, if anyone were to rally this rowdy lot in this situation, it had to be her. It was one more reason for her to hate Plan B. Just the thought of speaking publicly to so many strangers made her stomach do backflips, but there were too many lives at stake for her to back down due to anxiety.
“Gentlemen! Time is short! We could really use your help!”
Rather than try to complicate things with fancy words, she went for a short and honest request. In hindsight, this probably wouldn’t do. Indeed, looking at their puzzled faces, they clearly expected a more flowery speech. Though, even if she gave them the presentation of the century there was a good chance they’d abandon their post and flee the first chance they got just to save their own skin. Human nature often turned ugly at times like this, but not today.
“Y-yes, ma’am!”
“Whatever you need!”
“Just tell us what to do!”
Despite their very obvious doubts, they lined up and stood at attention, willing if not eager to do their part. Seeing them like this made some weird sensation flutter in Fifteen’s chest. It was the first time she’d ever done something like this, so getting an overall positive reaction was unexpected. It reignited an old, childish idea. Though fire magic was only good for death and destruction, its wielder could still serve as a beacon. To inspire others and be inspired in turn – what a strange feeling indeed.
For better or worse, Acolyte Two-Fifteen failed to notice the overwhelming sensation of ‘do what she says or else’ radiating from the towering knight and ferocious feline on either side of her.