It'd been two whole days since Kora had slept, and her disheveled hair combined with unwashed robes told a tale of dozens of hours spent reading old books that littered her desk. She had read and reread entire volumes, desperately combing through details the Church didn't allow outside its doors, putting the pieces of a puzzle together she felt she was on the cusp of solving.

She had hoped the bounty she had placed on the moon elf would have paid off by now, but early reports of a failure in Millstone resulting in the very public defeat of two Guild poisoners shocked her. That was no mean feat. As a secondary measure, she had launched a cleansing battalion as well, but she knew it'd be long before they'd reach Greencoast, and it wasn't guaranteed that they'd encounter the summoner either. She knew that she'd need more than a few dashes of luck to clean up her mess.

As Kora found herself nodding off while rereading the same sentence over and over again, she perked up with a jolt when she heard her door being unlocked with a key from the other side. Just as she was about to yell at whatever officer was breaking into her office, she stopped mid-protest when she saw Bishop Yandel enter her quarters, closing the door behind him.

"Burning the midnight oil are we, Inquisitor?" he asked as he took the seat across from her unoffered.

"Yes, Lord Bishop, just trying to stay on top of things."

"I see. And how is that going?" he asked, tapping his ring on the chair arm again. Kora struggled to keep her eye from twitching, but her general state of exhaustion was too much to stop the reaction.

"Excellent. We're on track to correct our earlier mistake," she lied.

"Interesting, that's not what I'm hearing. Jarvis’s whisperers report that you hired two chemists as I suggested, and they were both found unconscious in the streets of Millstone. Is that what you call handling the situation?" Yandel yelled as he slammed his ring on the table between them.

Kora couldn’t stop herself from flinching at the bishop's reaction. He was right; she hadn't done enough to stop the summoner. She had become obsessed with learning more about him, and that obsession had blinded her to further action.

"The cleansing squad is on its way. With any luck they'll run into him in a day or two if he remains on course."

"On course to the Citadel you mean?" the Bishop asked.

"That is where we believe he's headed," Kora said, referring to her most recent reports.

"Because of the boy?"

"Yes..." Kora admitted.

"And what have you learned there?"

Kora became excited, taking the opportunity to reveal what she had been studying through the restricted historical books.

"His name is Ezekiel Graystone, and he's a moon elf from the Forgotten Isles. This we knew already, but he was a colonel in the Crusade during the Fall. In fact, records speak of him as a strategist for the Crusade, earning them some of their earliest victories against our Lord..."

"Fool!" Yandell snapped, stopping Kora in her tracks. "How dare you speak of our God King as such! I didn't mean the heretic. I meant the boy!"

Kora leaned back feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff. She had no idea what the lord bishop was asking about Davis.

"He's still undergoing more testing by our priests. Early findings are as we expected; that he's a heretic, same as his father," she lied, hoping the Bishop was unaware she hadn't been following the boy's test results in favor of researching the summoner.

Yandel resumed his thumping on the chair arm and Kora noticed for the first time ever he that was chewing his lower lip in thought, his dark eyes darting back and forth. She had never seen him that concerned before, and it worried her.

"There have been signs with him," Yandel started slowly.

"Of magic proficiency," Kora said, still dodging the topic.

"That, but more concerning, there are signs of... divine intervention."

Kora sighed, realizing the game was up. The lord bishop obviously knew more than she did. Kora silently cursed her obsession with researching the moon elf.

"We'll make him a true believer in the God King, an inheritor of his grace. He'll make a fine addition to the Inquisition," she proposed. It was a common fate for heretical practitioners of magic.

Yandel chewed his lower lip more as he wiped his brow, his ruby ring reflecting the flickering candlelight of Kora's office.

"The spark of divinity the boy has does not seem to come from Tal'Dar..."

Kora audibly gasped as she slumped back in her chair.

"That's not possible. No one has had a spark of divinity outside the God King's grace in over a hundred years. Do we even know who would grant him blessings outside of Tal'Dar?"

"That's the part that concerns the priests and why it's been brought to my attention. If the tests are to be believed, the priests are saying his grace comes from Uphine, the sun goddess."

Kora laughed loudly and uproariously, her reaction one of pure instinct. "That's impossible. Uphine, along with the other blasphemer gods, perished in The Fall. Her demise and the results thereof are well documented. Besides, we've arrested and killed dozens of heretics who gave prayers in her name, and none of them tested positive for divine interaction. Uphine is a ghost, a victim of her sister's wrath."

"You know your history well, Inquisitor, though it wasn't wrath that caused Ophine to kill her sister. It was jealousy. That much the restricted tomes should tell you."

Kora waved her hand dismissively as she stood up and started organizing the books on her table reflexively.

"Regardless, Uphine is dead. Praying to her is as useful as praying to a corpse. More likely the boy has been taught parlor tricks by the summoner meant to confuse us," Kora reasoned, her eyes watching the bishop for his reactions.

"Perhaps..." Yandel pondered out loud.

Standing up, the lord bishop straightened his robes and his skull cap, regaining the level of composure he preferred to exude.

"As Lord Bishop of the Citadel, I order you, Kora, Grand Inquisitor, to bring the heretic to justice, no matter the costs. I know the Citadel is low on reinforcements as the God King has recalled more troops to the capital but do what you must."

Kora bowed graciously, glad the conversation went more in her favor this time despite the earlier missteps. The lord bishop exited her office and Kora was left to clean up her mess.

**********

Despite the food being neither filling nor enough, Davis woke up the next morning feeling full, warm, and safe in his cell under the Citadel. He couldn't explain it, but he didn't feel alone anymore. It wasn't the priests who came in to ask him more questions and probe him with additional magical devices. It wasn't the guards who checked on him frequently with concerned looks on their faces, keeping their distance from him as they nearly threw the trays of food for him into his cell. Davis felt... accepted.

The next night, as he slept, he dreamed of his father and the stories he told him when putting him to sleep. He was young when his father died, and his mother had told him it was during a hunting accident, but the more he thought of his father while in his cell, the more he could remember.

"The sun represents life. It gives birth to the trees and the flowers, who give birth to the bees, who give birth to our food. Life is the most important thing, son, and Uphine is the embodiment of life. To worship her is to pray for life and the wellbeing of all those around you..."

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Davis's father's words were left echoing in his head as he awoke to another day in his cell, the footfalls of a priest walking down the hall stirring him in the early hours of the morning.

As the priest entered his cell, Davis couldn't help himself as he said, "Good morning. Has the sun been shining these last few days?"

The priest stopped in confusion at Davis’s question.

"Why ask about the sun?" the priest asked cautiously.

"Well, the sun's pretty important, isn’t it?"

"How so?"

"My dad used to say that it was responsible for all life. I mean, that's kinda true, right? Can't have life without the sun."

The priest was visibly shaken, but kept moving forward with the testing he was tasked to do. He withdrew a holy symbol, one Davis recognized with the rising sun in the middle of the horizon. It appeared to be made of gold on a leather strap.

"Hold this," he instructed.

Davis reached out and touched the symbol gingerly before gripping it in his hand. He traced his fingers over the symbol, etching its shape in his mind as he did so.

"Now, I want you to imagine a small ball of light attached to something. It can be anything; the chair, your bed… whatever."

"Oh, you want me to cast a light spell," Davis deduced.

"Yes, have... have you heard of a light spell before?"

"Yes, Mr. Graystone showed it to me. So, you want me to hold this holy symbol and do what exactly?"

"Simply imagine a small ball of light tied to an object. Visualize it in your mind as you hold the symbol."

Following the instructions provided to him, Davis held the holy symbol and imagined a small ball of light dancing around his cell on the ceiling. He squeezed the symbol harder, hurting his hand, as he focused on the light more and more. Nothing appeared as he hoped it would.

"Sorry, nothing's happening. I'm not sure how Mr. Graystone did it."

"From what we've been told, he's likely an arcanist of some kind, practicing magic via ritual and spell books."

"And you think I can do that?" Davis asked.

The priest stopped, his annoyance rising as he realized he had overshared with the boy, becoming more friendly than he should have been with their prisoner.

"No, we're checking to see if you can perform magic via other means."

"If you told me how, I could try another way," Davis asked.

"Silence! You will do as you are told, when you are told. You have been found to be a heretic against the Church, and we're simply testing to see how far your blasphemy has spread!" the man shouted, his anger seeming forced.

Davis recoiled, realizing he had overstepped some boundary. He kept quiet, waiting for the man to tell him what to do.

"Now, again, hold the symbol and visualize the light," the priest ordered as he scribbled in a notebook.

Holding the holy symbol, Davis focused on the priest's head, visualizing a light dancing above him. In a small voice, barely a breath, Davis whispered, "Please, Uphine. Help me."

Light burst forth above the priest, glowing brightly as it shed a radiant glow throughout cell, spilling into the hallway and beyond. The priest gasped at the intensity and staggered back, only to find the light spell followed above his head.

"Get it off! Get it off me!" The priest screamed as Davis giggled at his awkwardness.

A tapping at the cell door interrupted the moment as both the priest and Davis stood up at attention. On the other side of the bars were two large guards with sheathed swords and shields, flanking a man in long robes with a bald head wearing a skull cap. He tapped the cell door with a finger wearing a large ring with a big red ruby in the center, causing the tapping to echo throughout the jail.

The cell opened and the man waved a hand over the priest, causing the light to blink out suddenly, once again filling the cell with shadows from the flickering torches.

"Lord Bishop, thank you. I'm sorry, we were just..." the priest stammered. Davis noticed the man's nervousness at the other's arrival.

"It's fine, Brother Arnevia. We're obviously dealing with a unique situation. Would you mind if I spoke with the boy for a minute?"

"Of course, Lord Bishop, at your pleasure."

The priest left the cell and the lord bishop walked in, taking a partially broken chair across from Davis who sat on his bed. The older man took off his skull cap and wiped his head, sweat already building on his brow.

"It's humid down here, isn't it?"

"Yes... sir."

"Manners. Well, your mother taught you something, didn't she?"

"I'd like to think so, sir." Davis said, keeping his voice low and short.

"But as you can probably already tell, because you're a smart boy, Davis, we're not interested in your mother, are we?"

"No, sir," Davis said defensively, feeling like he was being verbally walked to a cliff.

"Who do we care about, Davis? Who are we seeking through all these tests and all these questions?"

"My dad?" Davis said slowly.

"Come on Davis. We just said you were a smart boy." The man started tapping his ring on the arm chair slowly. "Who are we asking about?"

Davis racked his brain, thinking back through all the interviews and tests the priests had given him, what the common thread between all of them were, until his eyes lit up with realization.

"There we go, you found the name."

"Uphine?" Davis asked.

"Indeed. We're concerned about Uphine. What do you know of her?"

"Not much, honestly. My dad mentioned her occasionally, is all," Davis admitted sheepishly.

"Yes, he did, didn't he? And now you, you've been offering her prayers as well while down here, haven't you?"

Davis felt it, the ledge he had been walked to. He could see it on the lord bishop's face, an eagerness for admission from him. This is what all the tests had been about, trying to deduce first his father's relationship with the name and holy symbol, and now this.

"Sir, I'm not sure what..." Davis started before he was cut off by the lord bishop.

"I've come to read your official sentencing," Yandel interrupted. "You've been found in contempt of our God King, Tal'Dar, through worship of a false and dead god. You have been labeled heretic and we will cease your blasphemy before it corrupts any others, much as your father's corrupted you."

Tears started welling up in the corner of Davis's eyes as Yandel used a bland, matter-of-fact tone.

"You will be publicly executed in two days’ time, and your ashes used to create a new scepter in honor of Tal'Dar. Your death will serve as a message, as others have, that there is only one god on this world, and he is the king of our realm."

Davis sniffled, not wanting to show weakness or terror in front of all the guards, especially the bishop sitting before him.

"So my mother is safe. Killing me, that will save her?"

"Of course not. Your father was found a heretic, and now you. We're considering all of Greencoast to be corrupt at this point. We're sending soldiers south to wipe out the entire village," the lord bishop explained curtly.

"What? No! They had nothing to do with any of this. You can't hurt them, they're not involved!" Davis screamed as he stood up, taking a step towards the bishop.

The guard drew their swords and took a step towards the cell, stopped only by a raised hand from the lord bishop who looked at Davis curiously.

"You wish to save them?" Yandel asked.

"Of course, they don't deserve this!"

"What would you do to save them?"

Davis sat down, considering the gravity of the question the lord bishop asked. He could feel the tension in the room rise, knowing that all the questions, all the testing, everything he'd been through this far had led to this moment.

"What do you want?"

"Through our tests and divinations, we have determined that you have the potential of divine sight. Not everyone is capable of such closeness to a deity. It's through miracles, blessings, or unusual piety that someone is able to achieve such a personal connection to the divine."

"And you think I'm someone like that."

"We do Davis, we do. If you swear holy fealty to Tal'Dar, recognize him as the one true god above all others, and devote yourself to his grace, I'm sure we can find forgiveness for your mother and Mr. Graystone. Even Greencoast might be saved. Such an oath in the name of our God King would serve you well, and you'd thrive in the Church," The lord bishop offered with a smile and an extended hand.

Fear coursed through Davis's veins, and every instinct in his body screamed to run, to flee, but he had nowhere to go. Before him, the bishop was offering an escape for himself and his family, and beyond him were soldiers and the threat of death. Despite being only ten years old, Davis was smart enough to know that shaking that hand was the only sure way to freedom for him, and safety for his mother and friends in Greencoast.

Then he felt it, as he had the previous nights. A warmness hugging him, making him feel safe and secure. It was the same as when he had nightmares when he was younger, and his mother would come to his room and hug him until he fell asleep again. With that feeling, his vision blurred. The light in the room intensified and he saw more than he had previously even with the dullest of flickers of the candlelight.

As he looked into the Bishop's unnatural black eyes, he saw dark wisps emanating from him, and shadows forming horns on his forehead. His smile looked twisted and exaggerated, while the sweat dripping from his brow had turned to blood. Davis flinched and shook his head, and the room returned to normal around him, including the Bishop's appearance.

"I'm sorry, sir, I wish I could do that. But... I don't think I can."

Yandel stood sharply, and with his extended hand he backhanded Davis across his face, opening a scratch on his cheek from his ruby ring.

"That certainly makes things easier. You'll be executed in two more days. We've already dispatched a group to kill the heretic, and they'll continue to Greencoast. You had a chance, though fleeting, but go to bed knowing that you've just killed everyone you've ever known or loved." The Bishop gathered his robes and left the jail cell as he nodded to the guards who had followed him.

"Stay here. If you hear any prayers from him, or see any other signs of the divine, kill him immediately," Yandel instructed the jailers.

The two men bowed and saluted Yandel as he closed the door and left without another look at Davis.

A cold feeling returned to the boy, and all he could do was curl up in a ball, speaking silent prayers to Uphine between sobs until he fell asleep in the darkness.