Two days had passed since the chaotic events in Rhysling. Sichal, a lively city on the road to the capital, flourished with the promise of excitement and revelry. Colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, advertising the taverns, theaters, and gambling dens that lined the streets. Musicians played lively tunes, while street performers captivated audiences with daring feats and comedic antics. Despite its reputation for merriment, Sichal had a darker side, and rumors of underground activities with many shady dealings lurked beneath its jovial facade.
In a small housing complex on a remote side of the city, a man knocked on a simple gray-painted door. He was tall with a scar down the middle of his face, but spoke in a rather high-pitched voice.
"Time is up. The Wards will be released," he announced.
The door opened quickly to reveal Selen. Tall and imposing, her silver hair cascaded down her back like a shimmering waterfall. There seemed to be an otherworldly charm to her piercing blue eyes. However, she was covered in filthy clothes, drenched in sweat, and her hair was greasy from weeks of inactivity in a locked room in a meditative trance.
The man, an employee of Silent Vaults-a place that specializes in providing safe and private accommodations for cultivators seeking deeper meditative states-kept a professional face despite the stench.
"A bath has been drawn for you, as well as a set of freshly laundered robes in a private washroom," he informed her.
Selen took a whiff of her hair and scowled. "Thank you."
The man gave her a last nod before leaving.
"I need to clean up and see if the thief got away with it... mhmm~ my back hurts," Selen thought as she rubbed the small of her back and made her way to the washroom.
After a quick bath and fresh clothes, Selen's natural charm was restored. She settled her accounts with the receptionist as she walked out into the streets. As she reflected on how much had changed in just a few weeks, she began to think that long periods of meditation were a waste of time. People cultivated to live longer and become more powerful, but even those old monsters who've survived for thousands of years probably spent barely a tenth of that time actually living.
Arriving at the door of the Sichal branch of the Artificer's Guild, Selen took in the sight. The building was much older than the rebuilt one in Rhysling—less ornate, but much more homey in comparison. The seemingly simple Maplewood door with its metal knocker, handle, and hinges hid a plethora of classic Artificer tricks designed to make life difficult for malicious guests.
Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself.
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Selen entered the Artificer's Guild of Sichal, her eyes immediately drawn to the new violet curtains adorning the windows. The rich fabric added a touch of elegance to the otherwise utilitarian space, and she was pleasantly surprised to see that not much else had changed. The interior of the guild was a familiar sight, filled with the hum of activity. Artificers moved about with various contraptions in hand, some deep in conversation while others tinkered away, oblivious to her entrance.
She made her way towards the receptionist's desk, where a young man had fallen asleep, a blanket drawn tightly over himself. None of the Artificers seemed to be paying him any mind. Selen coughed to get his attention, but he remained in his slumber. She knocked on the table between them, but still, he did not wake up. Frustration began to build within her.
Suddenly, a small wand with a pointed tip flew past her and landed on the sleeping receptionist's blanket. The wand activated, drawing in air from its tip and expelling it from the handle. The blanket shrunk inward, creating a vacuum-sealing effect that caused the receptionist to wake up with a start.
"SHINY FISH TITS!!!" he yelled, clearly alarmed by whatever dream he had been having.
The one who had thrown the wand appeared next to Selen and got on her tiptoes as if to whisper in her ear.
"BOOM!" she yelled out loud enough to startle Selen.
Selen turned to see Mureli's familiar face grinning up at her. Mureli was plain-faced with pointed ears at both the tips and lobes, hinting at some Merfolk ancestry—a topic no one ever really delved into, as it's quite a common sight.
Mureli laughed and offered a fist towards Selen. Despite herself, Selen pouted but bumped fists with the short-statured woman.
"How'd you get here so fast? I thought you were still in Rhysling," Mureli asked as she flicked her wrist. A wire jumped across and grabbed the wand she had thrown earlier, releasing the receptionist from his constricting blanket.
The receptionist grumbled at Mureli for being a pain but asked what she needed. His revealed nameplate marked him as "Theo."
"This is perfect! I couldn't have asked for a better setup!" Selen thought happily but kept a faux-surprised expression on her face.
Grabbing Mureli's shoulder, she asked, "What do you mean you thought I was in Rhysling?"
Theo took notice of Selen and jogged his memory about this guild member. However, he also recalled the orders he was given a couple of days ago. He put on a smile and asked, "Are you Master Selen?"
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"I am," Selen replied but remained curious about why Mureli thought she was in Rhysling.
Theo put a palm over his mouth in an exaggerated gasp of surprise as Mureli answered.
"We got word from the guild branch over there that you were working for the Magistrate on solving the auction incident," Mureli said.
Selen raised her eyebrows high and said with her best attempt at a confused tone, "I've been meditating within Sichal for weeks and haven't been to Rhysling or heard anything about any kind of auction..."
Mureli tilted her head as Theo put on a serious face. "I must ask you some questions," he said.
Selen did a mental fist-pump in her head.
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Selen lay sprawled on the bed in her simple, unadorned room at the Laughing Jester Inn. Her eyes misted over, and a severe pout marred her otherwise composed face. Her mind raced with thoughts, each compounding her worries.
"Nothing is going to plan," she thought, her frustration palpable even in her internal monologue.
"Fifteen million Reshal?! For one Thorn! How'd she pull it off?" The disbelief in her mind was almost tangible.
Zinnia had managed to sell the Bloodmoon Thorn for an astronomical sum, a feat Selen found both impressive and infuriating.
Her thoughts then shifted to the chaos in Rhysling. "A possible Heretic attacked and caused a slaughter within Rhysling's Church and the auction hall? How am I supposed to stick to the plan now…" The enormity of the situation weighed heavily on her. The ''meticulously'' crafted scheme was unraveling before her eyes, and she felt powerless to stop it.
Her stomach grumbled loudly, breaking her train of thought. She placed her hands over it and muttered aloud, "I'm so hungryyy~." But hunger was a secondary concern, the current matters took precedence.
She replayed the events at the Guild in her mind. Theo had asked a series of questions to prove her identity, showcase some of her abilities, and provide proof of her stay at the Silent Vaults. She believed she had answered everything sufficiently to establish herself as the real Selen. Yet, there was a nagging problem that refused to leave her thoughts.
"WHY IS THAT THIEF WORKING FOR THE MAGISTRATE OF RHYSLING?!?" The question echoed in her mind like a relentless drumbeat. If she couldn't find a way to get in contact with Zinnia, Selen knew she would face far more problems than she had bargained for.
She rolled around on the bed, making noises of frustration as the various artifacts she carried rattled against each other. By the time she was done, her clothing and hair were a mess, leaving her almost unpresentable. Standing up, she began pacing the room, considering possibilities and hatching little plans on how to get out of this mess without losing her head.
Just then, a soft knock came at her door. A warm, almost musical deep voice asked if Master Selen was inside. She gulped and went towards the door, hoping it was just a Guild staffer coming to give her the all-clear.
When she opened the door, she snapped her legs together stronger than a tiger would bite down on a piece of food, fearing that her bladder would mount a revolution against her. Standing in the doorway was a man with warm orange eyes that matched his voice's warmth. However, that was where any semblance of comfort ended.
The man wore armor that was crude, almost impossibly heavy and horribly menacing. Over it was a single thin black outer garment with a bright white symbol of Rovinius in its center. His head was shaved so closely that one might think he had been scalped. Veins were visible across his smiling face as he held an ornate book wrapped in an exquisite chain in his right hand.
Every man, woman, and child of The Empire knew that book—it was called the [Rovinius Codex], carried by one of the two combat arms of the Church—the most brutal and feared one to be exact. The man standing before Selen was none other than an Inquisitor of Rovinius.
In his melodic voice, he asked, "Would you kindly answer a few more questions for this servant? Please!" His smile was a full genuine grin.
The fear on Selen's face indicated she was probably about to faint.
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Selen's eyes trembled at the events transpiring before her.
The Inquisitor had brought a wheeled table laden with various foods and drinks into her room. After she had agreed to his questioning, he had invited himself inside, moving the table and a chair so that she could sit on the bed while he sat across from her. His lips pressed together so hard they almost disappeared as he glanced around with a new smile.
Without uttering a word, he dusted off the bed, tightened the sheets, and wiped down the table and his chair. He meticulously arranged the food so that Selen could access everything within arm's reach once she sat down.
Kissing his Codex, he placed it on his side of the table and took a deep breath.
"Please, have a seat." he said softly, ushering her toward her seat.
Much like a startled Gemrabbit, Selen shook in fear but complied and sat down. He poured her a cup of tea and then sat across from her. She took a sip, waiting for him to begin his questions.
The almost scalped man asked his first question with an unsettling warmth in his voice. "Is what is before you enough to satisfy you?"
She noted the strange phrasing but answered, "Yes, it is. You even brought one of my favorite foods—Willow Deer steak."
The Inquisitor raised his fists in front of him, and she noticed his skin was shredded around his fingers. Nodding disturbingly fast, he said, "Yes! Yes! As it should! As it should!"
Lowering his fists, he asked another question. "Are you a woman of Faith? Please, be honest! I serve the Most Knowledgeable, but I can also understand those who follow the others!" His voice remained warm, but she almost heard a gagging sound at his final word.
Selen answered cautiously, "I am devoted to the Most Knowledgeable in my heart, but I have sinned in that I have not practiced my Faith in a long time."
The Inquisitor took a strong sniff as he tilted his head back. When he returned to facing forward, Selen noticed his veins were bulging grotesquely on his face. His stiff smile remained as tears trickled down his cheeks without sound.
"Yes… Yes… I can see that your Faith is lacking. Yet I sense truth… Yes… Yes…" His lips trembled as if mouthing something unintelligible before snapping back to attention.
"Would you ever like to repent for the sake of your Faith?" he asked.
Selen gulped and thought that agreeing might help her case. "I would definitely devote more of myself to my Faith in the future."
The Inquisitor's face remained unchanged as he asked her to stretch out her right hand across the table. Confused and afraid, she did as he asked.
Faster than she could comprehend, the Inquisitor grabbed the Codex off the table.
His face became completely distorted by the pulsating veins and bloodshot eyes, the muscles on his neck rippled as he smashed down with the book onto her fingers. The pain was immediate and excruciating, she couldn't react or even simply comprehend.
Within a blink, the Inquisitor was back in his original position with the Codex in front of him and that same stiff smile on his face.
"Yes! Yes! A good start for penance! Now, answer me this question please!" His voice remained disturbingly warm.
Selen sat there in shock, barely registering the spreading red stain from the fleshy mound left in the middle of the table where her fingers were.