Kaiser helped lead the small man. They were only tall enough to reach up to Kaiser’s waist. Faldo told Kaiser that he had to finish lighting the lamps down the rest of the path.

The small man’s body was covered in a sweater that was made of old stitched together potato sacks. They wore a loose brown hood, and a cloth mask covered their face. They didn’t know how to get it off and Kaiser didn’t want to stop before reaching town. They didn’t speak. Kaiser didn’t prompt them to. As far as he was concerned, he was just helping a lost person find their way back to a place that seemed safe enough, even with the presence of the Drauxian squad that took up refuge in the same inn Kaiser was staying at.

The decrepit hamlet’s lamps were now lit. The ashes of war, the rickety buildings placed as if in memorial of the originals, became a small orb of light in the cold dark plains.

Only after they had trekked back to town did Kaiser speak to the small man. “What’s your name?”

The small man did not speak. They only stared blankly at Kaiser. Their catlike eyes only made Kaiser wonder if they were even human. He swatted away the thoughts. He had a mission to undertake and preparation to be finished.

“Alright. . . Our little journey ends here.”

Kaiser turned to leave in the direction of the inn. Not five seconds would pass before he heard the sound of running. Kaiser felt a tug on his jacket. He turned around. The small man gripped his sleeve tight.

“Just what are you doing? Why don’t you run along?”

Kaiser looked out to the rest of the hamlet. Even in its decrepit state, the shoddy wood homes and the blanket of faint warm lamp light reminded him of home. All of it made him think of home—a home he never had. He was perplexed as to how he could feel nostalgia for something he had never truly experienced. The tugging of the small man broke him out of his thoughts.

Rubbing his eyes, Kaiser took another look at the man. “Are you dwarfed? Did they pursue you for some crime?”

The small man shook his head no. Kaiser stood there with an apologetic face. He said no words to the small man, but his shock could practically be sensed.

“Are you a child. . .?” Kaiser asked in a softer voice.

They nodded hesitantly.

“Then you are a runaway?”

They shook their head no.

“Drauxian?”

They gave no response. Kaiser took it as them just not knowing.

“Are you cold? Hungry?”

They nodded yes. Kaiser dug seven silvions out of his pockets. He tried to drop them in the child’s hands, but they refused. They just stood there, confused. Even though all Kaiser could see were their large yellow eyes, they carried a harrowing sense of fear and hunger in them.

“Do you want to eat?”

The child nodded.

“Then you have to take the money.”

They tilted their head a bit to the right. They had grown curious. The concept of money seemed to provoke only a sense of estrangement from them.

“Don’t tell me. . . Do you not know what money is?”

They shook their head no. Kaiser put the money back. It was a cloudless night with a wind that seldom blew. The child stared up at Kaiser who stared up at the crescent moon in the clear black sky.

“What was your name again?”

The child reached into one of the folds in their improvised clothes. They pulled out an old piece of scrunched up paper. It was clearly torn off its original sheet in haste. There were even a set of four small holes in it, as if something had punctured it with pins. They quickly withdrew their hand as Kaiser took the letter.

Unfolding the letter, Kaiser didn’t see a name. Whatever was written on it meant, it sent strange chills up his body. He felt uneasy the longer he analyzed what it read:

Bienvenu

Ser. Num. 204

Label G

Variation C

Directive — Return to Golodia

“Golodia? Is that where you’re from?”

They gave no response.

“And. . . ‘G’. Is that really your name?”

The child took a step back. They held their head low and nodded. Whatever significance the name had for them, Kaiser saw it couldn’t be good.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories if I did.”

G pointed in the direction of the inn.

“You want to go back there?”

G nodded. Kaiser turned around and sighed. He felt a sting of annoyance creeping up through him. He knew his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He could have simply let the soldiers find and take G back. The more Kaiser thought about it, the more he regretted thinking deeply about anything. He did not have time to concern himself with pettier situations such as this one, yet he just couldn’t help himself.

“Alright. . . Go. My room’s on the second floor, farthest to the right. Did you get all of that?”

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G nodded. As he did, Kaiser heard the sound of steps to the left. Both he and G turned and saw Faldo, who, while smelling of lamp oil and the forest path, was still wide and awake enough to give Kaiser a greeting. He introduced himself to G and, polite as he was, didn’t question them, already guessing Kaiser had. Kaiser told G that Faldo was trustworthy. He flipped a silvion to Faldo and instructed him to escort G to the inn. Faldo agreed, Kaiser handed him his room key, and they left, with G following behind in tiny steps.

“Bienvenu, Bienvenu. . . Where have I heard that name?” Kaiser muttered to himself.

While Kaiser recalled the name, two men in grey vests and black overcoats hid behind one of the rickety houses. One of them was a man with a velvety peach complexion wearing a tweed hat on his head. The other was far older, wrinkled, and a bit bloated. He had rosy cheeks and sunken eyes on his rounded bald head. Where the man in the hat’s suit was well-managed, his shirt underneath wasn’t even fully buttoned, and he had a long grey unkempt beard that went down to his neck. The two whispered to each other.

“What say you, Gustav?” Asked the man in the tweed hat.

“About the proposition? I’d say no, Jean.” The old man replied.

“He might be a newcomer, but I’ve already got some info on him.” Jean tapped Gustav’s arm with his elbow. “Trust me—it’d be a clear case.”

“No deal, Jean. You’re wasting my time,” said Gustav as he began to walk away.

“Listen here: I have reason to believe he’s already done his fair share of crime.”

“So?” Gustav furled his brows in annoyance. “Who wouldn’t be a criminal in the neo-Drauxian territories? These kinds of towns are called ashes of war for a reason—they’re all in the gutter.”

“Well, it’s more like they became the gutter. But, he committed a crime right in front of a few Drauxian soldiers. I’ve been spying on him ever since he came here. He’s got a cleric’s jacket.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“Gustav, he just assisted in hiding a kid in this town. Plus, that Drauxian champion, Branko, and his fresh squad just arrived as well. Draux is using the military as law enforcers until they can really start building places like this back up. So, what do you say we do a little exposing work? Get these military folks off our backs as well while we’re at it. Building trust with the law’s always a good thing for us Undergrowth.”

Gustav peaked out from behind the house. Kaiser was still standing in the town square, deep in thought. He analyzed him, sized him up, and broke him down to his most basic traits from just a stare. “I can do it.”

“Great. . .! Now, do you wanna split the cash fifty fifty or seventy thirty?”

“Depends on how complicated things get after they get started,” Gustav said as he walked out from behind the house. Instead of walking up to Kaiser, he went to the front door and opened it.

“Wait, what’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like?”

“Well, aren’t you going to do the job now?”

Gustav stared at Jean. “It’s the dead of night. I’m going to bed. I’m old, I don’t need to be working hours before the sun comes up.”

“Wait, then what was all of this for?”

“Don’t ask me. You’re the one who wanted to meet up behind my house instead of meeting inside it. You’ve been with the Undergrowth longer than I have, and I won’t not follow such a simple request from a senior.”

Jean was silent as Gustav slammed the door shut. Kaiser’s focus was broken. Jean began to walk through the town square, his hands tucked into his suit. His gait was one of disappointment and fragility. He couldn’t shake the embarrassment Gustav had instilled in him. “G’night,” he said as he passed by Kaiser.

Kaiser turned in the direction of Gustav. He saw that he walked one of the many small dirt paths in the village, presumably to his own little hovel. The sight of such a simple act reminded Kaiser of the stone road leading to the church, and Father Hektor. He recalled the legend of Bienvenu, the first knight of Wiegraf the Messiah of White. He considered sprinting to the church, but he couldn’t bear to. The night was long, but there were only so many hours until the sun rose. His walk out to the forest and back to Barbush had already wasted many of those hours. Kaiser couldn’t shake the feeling that the name on the paper meant something greater. He rebuked his greater desires and sprinted to the church.

Entering the church and talking with Father Hektor was no trouble unlike last time. He had been informed by the little church tender from before that a man was speaking to Father Hektor at the moment but that there were no other visitors.

Kaiser waited. He examined his left hand and rosary. Ever since he first enacted the miracle carved into his left hand, the conjuring of flame, he could feel a strange sensation begin to grow. It was faint but constant, occasionally fading and returning. He had heard that it was the consequence of using such a method to cast the miracles of Wiegraf, but he and the rest of the clerical order ignored the warnings. The placement of the marking was an innate defiance that, if not a part of the culture of the clerical order within the Church of Wiegraf, would be considered heresy outright.

The moment Kaiser heard the doors leading to the inner room open, he returned his rosary to his pocket and stood up. In a sight that surprised the both of them, Eldwin walked out of the room and met Kaiser’s gaze.

Kaiser stopped Eldwin just as he got to the church doors. “You said you had personal business, and that it had to do with the church.”

“I can confirm, that is extremely true.” Eldwin chuckled.

“If you don’t mind, what was it? Why come here, you, a high ranking officer, all the way to Draux?”

“Ah, you ask too many questions, Kaiser. Can’t I have a vacation in peace? Maybe have some of my past sins absolved?”

“I suppose. . .”

“Oh, lighten up old chap. No need to be disappointed. Now, get in there. I can just tell you’ve got an itch to speak with the priest.”

Kaiser turned around and moved into the inner room. The door shut behind him, Eldwin’s doing, and he stood there, silent. That familiar request, “Come, come, enter,” from the confessional booth in the back beckoned Kaiser to enter it.

The feeling upon entering the booth felt the same as last time. Little sound or light from the outside world made its way through the booth’s thick wooden walls. Not a sound came from Kaiser until he quickly shuffled upon hearing a loud cough come from the other chamber.

“Who is it?” Father Hektor asked.

“Kaiser.”

“What troubles you?”

“Father, do you recall the main legend within the Tome of Wiegraf? The one where his first follower came to him and prayed?”

“Of course I do. I read the Tome every day. It’s a precious thing to me. Tell me the name of any person from the Tome and I can tell you all about them.”

“I don’t need help with that, but. . . There’s a name written on a piece of paper I have: Bienvenu.”

A long silence befell the booth. Hektor wouldn’t make any noises for a minute before he began to shuffle around inside his chamber.

“Father Hektor?”

“Yes, yes! I recall Bienvenu. . . The Knight of the East, the first disciple of the Messiah of White. Among the figures and statues found in the Grand Church in Golodia, Bienvenu had the second most carved for him, only having less than Wiegraf the White himself.”

“Then, Father Hektor.. . .” Kaiser reached into his pocket and uncrumpled the paper G had given him. He slid it through a small slit in the wall for Hektor to retrieve. “Could you tell me why his name is on that paper?”

Another silence befell the booth. The sound of paper being crisped in fidgeting hands came from Hektor’s chamber. The first words to come out of his mouth made Kaiser shudder. “This. . . I’ve seen this. The number. Dear Wiegraf. Why is the number so large?”

“Father Hektor?”

“What did they do? Why?”

A silent rage began to boil in Hektor. His feet slammed onto the floor of the booth and made Kaiser’s heart jump.

“Begone. Leave. . . And return ‘morrow. I need time to analyze this,” said Hektor.