Silence descended upon the battlefield as the combatants caught their breath. The Inquisitors were spent and covered in sweat. The temple guard had fared a little better. Viv picked up a tiny vial of high quality mending potion and gave it to Marruk who gulped it down gratefully. The Kark woman then busied herself shoving her large fingers up her itchy ears.

“Whoo. That went pretty well,” Orkan said, wiping blood from his blades.

The comment was extremely poorly received.

Denerim looked up from the kneeling position he had taken and pointed his chin at the corpse of the half-devoured woman. As the crisis had passed, her child ran back to shake her lifeless body with heart-wrenching sobs of pure grief.

“What? You know I’m right,” the Hallurian insisted.

“Some tact, please.”

“Fine, fine. Anyway, good stuff.”

“Not good stuff,” Lorn interrupted. The Temple Guard captain stood with all his height as the rest of his company formed up around him, all steely mail and white cloth. He fixed them with a furious scowl. It now occured to Viv that the inquisitors had ‘borrowed’ his troop’s uniform and probably without asking.

Varska half-stumbled through her door, the wound in her shoulder bound with a reddening cloth.

“Is she dead?” she asked.

“Yes,” Denerim assured.

“Explanations. Now!” Lorn demanded.

A group was gathering around them. Viv also noticed Corel running in with a contingent of guards in tow.

“I’m going to check on Varska,” Viv told Marruk who nodded while inspecting a bloody finger. She approached the pale-faced mage. Varska had a vacant look.

“Are you… alright?”

Varska’s response was immediate. She lifted a delicate finger, then bent forward and emptied the full content of her stomach. Mostly tea.

“Please excuse me while I regurgitate every meal I took in the last two years.”

Viv did the only thing she could and held the woman’s hair back as she dry-heaved.

“I’m definitely sure that she didn’t feed you anything off though.”

A murderous glance.

“And, pray tell, do you think that the acolyte of Gomogog used a different set of knives to part my dishes.”

“Pretty fucking sure, yeah,” Viv replied immediately. The acolyte was depraved, not stupid. Why take the risk of using a cursed tool to cook for someone who might have mana perception in the third tier?

Varska frowned, but she did not object and was already looking less, well, nauseous.

“Huh. Anyway, now my reputation is thoroughly ruined. People will see me and realize I shared my quarters with a monster for years. Years! I am such a fool.”

“Good thing that you were actively involved in its demise then. How long did she live here anyway?”

“That’s the cause of my anguish! She served my predecessor, a retired warmage, until his death. I never thought to check how long she had been here before or I would have perhaps suspected something.”

“The warmage, he…”

“Choked on a fishbone. Tars double-checked.”

“Wow, that’s…”

“A shitty death for a retired fighter. Yes. Thank you. Any other valuable feedback you would like to share?”

Viv knew when someone had reached bitch mood and it was better to leave them alone. She raised her hands in surrender and stepped back.

“Wait! Wait,” Varska said. She took a deep breath and winced.

“Your wound…”

“She managed to suck some of my mana but otherwise it’s fine, don’t worry. I just… I am taking it out on you. You came to... “

Varska assessed her.

“You thought I was the creature.”

“No, but I was afraid you might be. Terrified, even.”

Viv did not know how her honesty was received. Varska appeared lost in thought and she heard fragments of conversation behind. Lorn had focused his ire on Denerim, but the inquisitor had taken out a badge and now it was the temple guard captain’s turn to answer some pointed questions under Orkan’s smug look. On the other side, Corel was conducting an increasingly frustrating interview with Marruk.

“Did you know that there was an acolyte?”

A long pause.

“Not until yesterday at night.”

“When did you meet the inquisitors?”

A long pause.

“Yesterday at night.”

“Were they the one who informed you of that fact?”

A long pause.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to make me wait even for the most basic questions?”

A long pause.

“Yes.”

“Maranor’s sword, the two of you will be the death of me.”

Viv could only see the Kark’s broad, armored shoulder from there but she knew the stout woman was grinning.

“I’m sorry,” Varska said from behind. The mage stood up and brushed her blood-stained dress with one hand. She had a strange, chastised look that didn’t befit her.

“I messed up again, didn’t I?”

“I’m just saying that figuring out your roommate is a cannibalistic monster gives you space for some allowance. No worries.”

“No, don’t you see? I… I did not find out! It’s all… again…”

“Wow wow wow, she was not a hermit and lived in front of a temple of Neriad, right? Lots of people had lots of opportunities to find out and didn’t. Maybe the acolyte was just good at being what she was. Your predecessor did not succeed either.”

“Yes,” Orkan said as he approached the pair, “this was the fastest hunt we’ve ever done. You ladies impress me. We could not have succeeded without you.”

He grinned, the expression slightly threatening with the glowing tattoos disappearing in his raven-black hair. Varska sniffed. Orkan persisted.

“Normally, it takes weeks and then the acolyte always manages to eat a few people on the way. That’s what Denerim said, at least. This is only my second time hunting one with him.”

Varska was not very receptive. She stood up and disappeared back into her tower, sparing one last glance to Viv.

“Come see me tomorrow.”

Then she slammed the door closed.

Orkan sighed heavily.

“Don’t take it too personally. She’s had some difficult moments recently,” Viv tried. It felt like being the only mature adult in a trio.

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“You know, back in Halluria, women would queue to spend the night with me. I could not enter a new fortress without finding someone in my bed. But here everyone looks at me with disgust.”

He looked dejected. Viv wondered what she had done in a past life to deserve the details on the love life of a servant of the church.

“Don’t inquisitors swear vows of chastity or something?” Viv asked.

Orkan was shocked. Nay, scandalized.

“Absolutely not!”

“Well you could always visit the Spotted Feather before you leave. I’m sure that they would accomodate you.”

“Me? Paying for sex?”

“Well duh.”

The warborn’s eyes turned contemplative.

“I’m sure I can convince Denerim to splurge for a night. Maybe some action will distract him from that Simishe woman he bones every time we go back to base. And we did save a lot of money by finding the acolyte so fast. Stroke of luck, that was, hmmm.”

Lucky indeed.

Corel interrogated Viv in turn not long after that. His questions were similar to what he asked Marruk and Viv gave the same answer, but without the delay. She could not be arsed. Denerim flew to the rescue as they were two minutes in.

“Black Witch Bob acted as my deputy during this hunt. Surely you have better things to do than to pester the heroine of the hour?”

“One last question, if you will,” the dour man insisted, “why is that every time something happens here, you two are involved?” he asked, eyeing Viv and her yawning Kark sidekick.

“Because we get shit done?” Viv replied innocently.

That was it for the interview. Lorn made for Viv, but a sharp glare from Denerim dissuaded him. The head inquisitor had given enough of his time to smoothen things out with the local populace.

“Thanks for the help. I will walk you two back to your house and then the good captain and I will handle and sanctify the acolyte’s lair. Orkan will keep an eye on your friend, make sure she is fine.”

“Could she have been poisoned or something?”

“No, Gomogog is not about poison. That would be Octas the Spider Queen.”

“Another one of those dark gods?”

Denerim raised an amused brow.

“It’s not like we are trying to start a collection.”

They made their way to the outskirts with Marruk trailing them, beyond exhausted. It had been an interesting morning. Viv waited until the trio had gone through the assembled loiterers before asking the question that had been burning on her lips since the beginning of the fight.

“I cannot help but notice that the acolyte could heal and regrow stuff.”

“Caught that, did you?”

“But healing spells do not regrow arms. Instead, they form healthy stumps. What gives?”

Denerim looked alarmed, and a bit wary as well.

“No no, the acolytes corrupt and denature life mana for their own twisted ways. You cannot use the same method on a person. The results would be horrific!”

Viv was crestfallen.

“Oh.”

“Wait, you accept my words? So easily?”

“I figure that you would know about that sort of stuff since you are, you know, an inquisitor. And you don’t look like the type to lie.”

“Thank you. Most people dislike inquisitors in general, despite our efforts. It does not help that our appearance always heralds disaster. In any case, the healing magic only closes a wound that could have potentially healed by itself. That is why light damage to five organs can be healed but if someone has their liver destroyed, they cannot be saved, for example.”

“But that’s the thing,” Viv replied, annoyed, “every cell in the body carries the information required to build the entire body. Why not use either that or other limbs for a blueprint. Everyone has a liver, no? Why not copy one from someone compatible or something? Why is it not possible?”

Denerim looked at her like she had sprouted an extra head.

“What’s a cell?”

“Gods dammit.”

In the end, Viv explained that her home nation had tried to better understand the body instead of better understanding magic (technically true, at least to her), and that they had discovered quite a bit. She explained cells, then used a metaphor to explain DNA and how stem cells could potentially be created then ‘molded’ into the desired limb. She knew that researchers in Japan had even successfully converted adult body cells back into stem cells. The potential was there, and with the use of magic, surely, something could be done?

“Just imagine, you must have a lot of people maimed in the line of battle, right? All those people could be healed if we figure out how to use magic to help the body remember what it should look like!”

“But we would have to regrow the conduits.”

“Then we would need to figure it out, but at least we gotta start somewhere, yeah?”

The inquisitor’s eyes grew distant.

“It would take well-controlled black mana for its change potential, and life mana. In theory… but no, there would be too much risk. People would die.”

“We would not use it on humans first, of course. It starts with animal trials, then moves to volunteers only after the tests are conclusive. Have some standards, please.”

They had almost reached their house and Denerim was still mulling over the new information.

“This all sounds so crazy. But you believe it. Tell you what, master the change aspect of black mana and contact me via Farren. I will arrange something.”

It was Viv’s turn to be shocked.

“Wait, you just told me that body modification was a horrible thing I should never try. I never expected you to agree with me. I was just venting.”

“You forget two things. First, I can pray to Neriad to confirm that this is a good idea. If I receive his blessing, it will mean that we can go ahead. Second, it’s clear that you are an outlander, so you have knowledge that we lack. Or forgot.”

Viv was worried. It was clear to her that, caster or not, the inquisitor could kill her if he wanted. Of course, Solfis would tear him in two afterward but a fanatic might decide that it was worth it.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” the older man said. “We do not hunt outlanders like some nations do. Why do people always believe that we are out to slaughter everyone? Besides, you already helped us immensely in the short time that you were here, between this and the necromancers. We, the inquisition, have your back.”

That was too weird to be fully comforting.

“Is it really that easy to tell that I’m an outlander?”

“Most people would not think of it, but we inquisitors are trained to delve into questions and theories. Honestly, your strange skin tone, your weird eyes, the accent, the teleportation accident story? It’s a shame that it took me so long to figure it out. I must be getting old.”

“Alright. Well, we are here. I’ll see you around?” Viv asked at the gate to her mansion.

“We will probably depart shortly. We would not want to further exhaust our welcome, hmm? Remember what I said. When you have a decent knowledge of the change aspect of black mana, we can get to work. The church cannot help you with that. We do not attract black mana practitioners. Take care now.”

Viv practically dragged Marruk in. The poor woman was dead on her feet.

“Wait. Was that part of the garden so turned? Did you do some gardening? I swear it was not like that this morning.”

Marruk muttered something unintelligible and Viv decided to let it go. They went through the door. Arthur trotted across the room to greet her.

“Squee.”

“I’m glad to see you too. Did something happen while I was away?”

//Nothing of import occured during your absence.

//I believe that Arthur missed you.

//She has displayed signs of impatience.

“She probably wanted to fly out, but it was too dangerous. Here you go now, little one. Solfis, believe it or not but we found the culprit in exactly two minutes of investigation. It has to be some sort of record…”

Viv put Marruk to bed and came back to gossip with the golem. She did not notice the bloody cloth stashed under Arthur’s lair.

Outside Viv’s house, an hour earlier.

“You go in, grab what you can, trash the place and leave, remember? In and out, no dallying, no fire, and no killing the drake if you can avoid it.”

The mercenary leader was named Kelto, and he was out of patience.

The three men in front of him nodded nervously. There were two thugs who were on their third break-in attempt, and a thief hired for the occasion. Kelto had splurged on the last one. No choice. He had a reputation to salvage.

Everyone knew by now that his attempt to intimidate the witch had ended in failure. Normally, his chainmail and scarred cheeks created fear in the hearts of others, but now, sneers and jeers often followed him. Something had to be done.

He had tried to steal her belongings and leave a knife to show that she was not as invulnerable as she thought. The first time, his men had been surprised by the drake. The second time, they had to contend with a network of traps and pits that only a vicious mind backed by skills could have created. He had even interrogated the housekeeper, Gogen, but the daft cow had only sobbed and repeated that she was there to clean. Worse, it turned out that Gogen was well-liked and had thirteen children, half of whom were in the guard.

Things became unpleasant for him after that.

He had to strike hard. He gave the signal.

The three men raced across the deserted street. The thief did something with his hands, and the ward on the door did not ring when he picked the lock. They disappeared inside.

In the house, the two thugs approached the pile of covers they suspected harbored the beast of Kazar. The horrid, white reptilian creature emerged from its nest with crimson eyes shining ominously in the dim light. While the thief inspected a bedroom door, they took out a net and brandished their clubs.

The door slammed close. All three men jumped.

There was a nightmarish creation before them. A tall, skeletal frame of glyph-covered bones and two orbs shining a baleful yellow dug deep into a featureless skull, twin horns jutting up and back. It towered over them, one monstrous hand flat against their exit.

//ARMED INTRUDERS DETECTED.

//IMPERIAL CHAMBERS AEGIS PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.

//MAXIMUM STRENGTH AUTHORIZED.

“No… Please…” one of the thugs mewled.

//ERROR.

//MERCY MODULE NOT FOUND.

//FAREWELL, MEATBAGS.

They screamed.

Back outside, Kelto heard a commotion. The door opened and a titanic undead abomination stepped out, claws bloody.

Kelto ran.

Solfis dragged the first corpse behind himself, and grabbed a shovel off the wall. He delicately removed one of Marruk’s spiked traps from a flower bed and started digging, his skull emitting a sibilant, high-pitched warble of pleasure.

It felt good to be alive again.