Silas and Poliana made their way through the winding streets of Sichal, the evening air filled with the sounds of laughter and music. As they approached the main square, Silas turned to Poliana, his voice low but firm.

"To what extent do you know about the incident that brought me here?"

Poliana's face twisted into a grimace. "A rogue cultivator, suspected of being a Heretic, infiltrated Rhysling. Committed two acts of mass murder within the Church and Starlight Bidders', one act of grand theft, and numerous acts of sacrilege." Her expression conveyed her distaste for the events and condemnation of the perpetrator.

Silas raised an eyebrow as Poliana coughed and straightened her face back into a polite smile. "See through it? Well, I supposed you might. It is a horrible tragedy, but I'm too much of an old hag to be shaken up by it. First thought in my head was being thankful that didn't happen here." She raised her arms in mock surrender.

"I meant no offense," Silas chuckled. "I simply wish for us to be as honest as possible. I myself would not be offering help if my friend was not at the center of the storm as it were."

Poliana nodded thoughtfully. "Not a nutjob so far..."

They reached the lively center square, dominated by a magnificent fountain in the shape of a weeping man hunched over a puddle of his tears. Silas paused, taking in the sight before turning to Poliana.

"Is there any story related to this rather strangely tragic fountain?"

Poliana chuckled. "It's from a somewhat recent play called 'The Rotten.' Believe it or not, it is a comedy! One of Sichal's wealthier entrepreneurs took to it so much that they wanted to erect a monument to it." Her gaze lingered on the fountain with fondness. "I just couldn't help but give my permission after hearing their passion. We needed something to spruce up the center, and who was I to say no to a free fountain?"

Silas laughed lightly. "A good decision indeed. Do you know where I might see this play once my business is concluded?"

Poliana thought for a moment. "A troupe called the Traveling Orchid has been in town for a while. They sometimes perform it, but I haven't had a chance to see them due to my schedule."

"I may have to check if my luck is good enough to see that show," Silas said with seemingly genuine interest.

Poliana nodded with a smile as they walked past the fountain, thinking to herself, "I need to get someone to set up the play for him... perhaps his 'good luck' will keep him reasonable..."

Silas brought her back to reality with his next questions. "What about the person that was captured? How are they behaving? Who is detaining them? What is their story?"

Poliana momentarily rooted herself to her spot, forcing Silas to turn around and meet her gaze once more. She coughed defensively. "Sichal is not as affluent as Rhysling with manpower. I had to inquire for some assistance outside of our hardworking civil servants."

A chill washed over her as she noticed the dangerous expression on Senior Ji's face. "Who is detaining the imitator?"

Poliana adopted a formal tone. "Sichal was visited by an esteemed member of the Church's Inquisition. I asked them for aid in this matter since the Church is also involved in this incident and would be very interested in finding out the cause and culprit." She looked at Silas pleadingly. "I hope you understand. I had no choice but to turn to them."

Silas's eyes narrowed slightly before he spoke again. "We should hurry up in that case."

Poliana nodded quickly and took the lead, guiding him towards the inn while thinking to herself, "Best not push my luck right now. Worst case I drop all of the blame on the Church."

----------------------------------------

Nyx hovered over Sichal, his keen eyes scanning the various districts below. As soon as they had left the dock, he had slipped out of Silas's shadow to conduct his own reconnaissance. The crow's flight took him from the wealthiest parts of the city to the slums, and he noticed a strange lack of tension or discontent in both areas.

The usual undercurrent of unease, the quiet discontent that simmered beneath the surface in most places, was conspicuously absent here, leaving Nyx both puzzled and intrigued.

"Curious..." he thought, his mind racing to understand this incongruity. It was only natural that there should be at least some degree of underlying restlessness or dissatisfaction.

Nyx glided down, pondering what might be causing this strange harmony.

"Hmm, what could it be..." he squawked to himself quietly, his descent accelerating as he turned around in thought.

"Can't be that the Hag is just that good at ruling..." Nyx stabilized himself just before he would have crashed and landed on a windowsill of one of the communal houses in the slum. Peering inside, he found the room to be surprisingly well furnished - an anomaly for such an area. He checked other windows and saw families chatting happily over a meal, dressed in rags but surrounded by comfort and plenty. Children laughed and played, while adults engaged in lively conversation, their faces devoid of the usual worry lines and stress marks typical of slum dwellers.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Extremely odd," Nyx thought.

Zinnia had not mentioned anything about this peculiarity. Perhaps something new had happened in her weeks of absence, or perhaps she had dared to lie to them.

Nyx squawked a sigh and remembered for a moment how much simpler life had been with more infamy.

Back in their heyday, everything was just so simple and honest...

As he made his way to the more prosperous dwellings, Nyx saw the opposite situation: barren interiors and people running around with scrolls and papers, the exhaustion etched into their faces. These homes, which should have been symbols of opulence, looked almost abandoned, their inhabitants desperate and overworked. The stark contrast was jarring. The rich, usually portrayed as languid and carefree, appeared haggard and stressed, their luxurious surroundings marred by neglect.

Landing on a nearby tree, Nyx scratched his chin with his claw and muttered to himself, "This is not how I thought the night would go.'' He closed his eyes briefly, realizing it was almost time for Silas to meet back up with Zinnia.

He should go to report these findings, but the mystery gnawed at him. What could cause such a strange situation? Could there be an unseen hand manipulating the city's population?

With a powerful flap of his wings, Nyx took flight once again, heading towards where he could sense Silas. As he soared over the rooftops, his mind raced with possibilities. The stark division between the apparent contentment of the poor and the harried existence of the rich was not something he expected to see.

----------------------------------------

Zinnia exited the cane shop, twirling a new acquisition in her hand. The cane's handle, carved into the shape of a boar's head, felt solid and reassuring.

She thought to herself, "Shit~, Selen's got it rough. Then again, it could have been me soooo~"

With a flick of her wrist, the cane retracted into a compact form that fit neatly into her palm. She stashed it away in her clothes and shifted her appearance back to Selen's, blending seamlessly into the crowd.

Despite moving back into the streets at the same place she 'disappeared' from, she couldn't get back the feeling of being watched.

Her pursuers were probably waiting at the Guild for her reappearance.

As she walked, Zinnia mulled over the limited information she had purchased. Nothing major seemed to be happening within the Empire, most people hadn't even heard about the chaos in Rhysling. The assailant remained unknown to the public and there were no fingers pointed to anyone just yet.

However, when she asked about Sichal, beyond some horrible screaming coming from an inn, there was little information. When she pressed for juicier news about her home, the price quoted by the old man in the shop made her do a double take.

"Something fishy is afoot," she mused. "Have to see if my friends don't know something interesting."

Quickening her pace towards the Artificer's Guild, Zinnia once again felt those 'watchful' eyes on her. Everything seemed to be going well as she entered the Guild.

----------------------------------------

Silas and Poliana arrived at the Laughing Jester Inn earlier than planned, driven by Silas's insistence on meeting the Inquisitor and confirming the prisoner's condition. The inn's exterior, usually inviting with its sturdy oak beams and modest sign, now seemed to sag under the weight of an oppressive atmosphere. The scent of blood, sharp and metallic, lingered in the air as they approached the entrance.

Silas made no comment on the smell but thought to himself how convenient it was to have an Inquisitor present. He could already predict the events that would unfold once he laid eyes on him.

Inside, the common room was eerily empty. The usual warmth from the central hearth was absent, replaced by a cold silence that seemed to seep into every corner. Most of the staff were missing, likely having taken time off to escape working under the current 'special' conditions. The prolonged screaming from one of the rooms had driven away even the most resilient employees.

The receptionist, looking haggard and worn, stood behind the counter. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Silas enter but quickly shifted to Poliana. His demeanor changed instantly, becoming much more respectful as he greeted his Lord.

"Town Lord Poliana," he said with a deep bow. "Welcome."

Poliana nodded curtly. "This is Senior Ji," she said, gesturing to Silas. "We would like to have a talk with Inquisitor Umbres and the guest inside one of your rooms."

The receptionist gulped, his face paling further. He bowed his head low, trembling slightly. "Forgive my rudeness and unprofessionalism," he stammered. "I can direct you to the location, but I am simply too frightened to guide you personally."

Poliana opened her mouth to respond, but Silas stepped forward and placed a hand on the receptionist's shoulder. His touch was firm yet gentle, and he offered a soft smile that seemed to put the man at ease.

"All is well," Silas said in a soothing tone. "I am sure everything will be fine. Surely a servant of the Most Knowledgeable would be open to talking first."

The receptionist looked into Silas's seemingly kind eyes, his own filled with uncertainty. "I am not so sure," he replied with a tremor in his voice.

Poliana coughed lightly, drawing their attention back to her. "We should head over to the room and see the situation for ourselves," she suggested.

Silas nodded in agreement and reassured the receptionist once more. "All will be fine," he repeated before turning towards Poliana.

As they made their way through the corridors of the inn, Silas could feel Poliana's curiosity about him growing stronger.

Perhaps she wondered if this Senior Ji had ever dealt with an Inquisitor before, they were anything but civil.

They reached a door at the end of a narrow hallway, that the receptionist pointed them towards. Muffled sounds could be heard from within.

Poliana paused for a moment before knocking firmly on the door. There was no immediate response, but after a few seconds, they heard shuffling footsteps approaching from inside.

The door creaked open slightly, revealing a sliver of light from within. A pair of disgustingly warm eyes peered out at her through the gap.

"Inquisitor Umbres?" Poliana called out authoritatively.

He spoke with mirth, "My! The Town Lord graces this servant with her presence! How wonderful!"

Poliana could see some of the aftermath of the Inquisitor's actions behind him. She felt quite unnerved, even with her tolerance for disturbing sights.

Umbres then opened the door fully, the putrid stench now fully wafting outwards. He noticed there was another person next to the Town Lord.

Shifting his line of sight upwards, he met a pair of eyes as warm as his own, with a soft smile that one might even call saintly. Silas gave a friendly greeting, "A pleasure to mee—"

However, he was abruptly cut off as the Inquisitor ripped off the chain that was on his copy of the [Rovinius Codex].

The Inquisitor of Rovinius had a facial expression one could only describe as beyond demonic. Faster than Poliana could react to the shifting situation, he swung the chain towards Silas, yelling out a bestial roar, "DIE!"