Anjelica let out a groan of frustration.

Her shadow hung long over the map laid across her desk. Small pieces of wood and metal were laid out as if it were the board to a game. Red diamonds for the Church officials, tiny wooden hammers representing the Gavels whose positions she knew, and blue cubes in places of interest. Black sticks laid the path that she and Hound took as they made their way across the countryside. Stretching from town to town, the path would sometimes skew off onto an abandoned road or into a forest trail. Their orders had bade her and Hound to do so.

A red envelope sat on the board, propped up by its sturdy flap. The paper inside was of a strong weft and had flowing cursive handwriting upon it. Anjelica had read and reread the paper so many times that she had memorized the words:

It is in the interest of the crown that all blighted areas be investigated for signs of abnormal clot formations and activities of dissension. As these areas are extremely dangerous, we have found no better candidate for the task than the squad of Anjelica the Raven and the Hound. You are to dispense with any other official business to begin your investigation forthrightly.

Having no need to review the paper left the letter free to be used as a pawn. The small envelope served as a perfect piece for their carriage as it moved across the roads.

Her eyes flicked to the cup she had placed far to the north to represent The Grand Sangrance. The onyx church and its grounds took up nearly a quarter of the capital. It was unusual to be summoned there and even stranger to be handed orders and then sent away forthrightly after having just arrived.

Why exactly were Hound and I chosen for this assignment? She wondered, They were certainly complimentary about our abilities but most Gavels could investigate regions with lesser demons. What is it about us that they went to such trouble to arrange for us?

Anjelica had pondered long and hard about this. The mysteries of politics and decisions within the organization interested her. While strange, she had assumed that the answer would present itself in time.

With their orders clearly stated, Hound and her had done what their orders had commanded. From one town to the next they had investigated areas of blight. Their search had proven mostly fruitless. Each town kept them busy with legal adjudications, marriages, and the odd investigation. The diversions into forbidden land, however, had been much less fruitful. They had discovered mostly abandoned towns, ruined churches, discarded tent cities, and the occasional lost soul to put to rest.

Certainly no signs of ‘activities of dissension’, whatever that was supposed to mean, her internal voice scoffed. Who would ever be foolish enough to choose to stand against the Church and the Crown and raise their suspicions? They would not have specified it in our orders if it was of no concern.

Tracing the path down the road and away from the capital her vision passed a few of the towns they had passed before stopping on at the sight of the first red pin. The pin was shoved into the dot that marked the town of Trevaine along the King’s Road.

While tending to their duties in the town they had been regaled with the tale of a missing child. A woman had gone in for a fresh basket of laundry to hang while her young child played outside. Though she was gone for only a moment, upon her return she found that her child had disappeared. The mother, distraught to the point of openly weeping, had begged the pair to keep a watchful eye out for her son.

Her vision crept further along the trail to another red pinhead. A similar story. A little girl went missing during the evening some months ago. The report in the office was noted by the local constabulary. Notices were sent to the capitol’s office but no response was ever given. No Gavels had been sent to investigate.

The trail of pins followed them to each town that they had passed through. Some of the pins sat alone but there were several clusters. All of them were children that had vanished when their parents turned their backs. Passing through the river town of Lovelle they had found eleven cases that matched the general pattern.

Every one of those reports went to a desk to die. The thought made her shudder. Are we just the only ones who have noticed the pattern or is someone burning the trail behind them?

Anjelica sighed with a mix of frustration and fatigue. Hanging her head back she looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes focused off into the distance as her thoughts wandered.

“This is not even our assigned case. Even if we brought it to a Magistrate we would be ordered to drop it. The whole thing stinks of either malice or incompetence.”

Her words were dripping with anxiety.

Exhaling through her teeth, Anjelica collapsed into her chair which was really more of a throne. Large and domineering, it was made of darkly stained wood. Pillowy purple cushions caught her weight and held her aloft like a firm cloud. Rocking back in her chair, she swung her feet up and onto the desk in front of her paying heed to her carefully constructed board. Though her chair was lavish, this position was the most comfortable for her. Her seat was one of the few things that was not nailed down to the floor of the carriage.

Stretching her arms backward and yawning, the chair teetered.

“It is truly unfortunate that there is not much to do in this chariot other than study,” she mused to herself aloud, “There are not even hoofbeats because the bloody thing moves of its own accord. Our duties are many and strange but a carriage that can move without the need of equestrian aid is still a bit bizarre. Did you hear that, you wooden monstrosity?” She rapped her knuckles on the wood behind her to punctuate her point.

After three weeks on the road she could feel herself becoming stir crazy.

While Hound drove the carriage she had locked herself inside the cabin reviewing notes, marking maps, and postulating new theories. Feeling as though she was finally onto something, the previous evening had held very little sleep for her. Frustration had finally crept in as even basic facts seemed to elude her after a time.

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At only fifteen feet across in either direction, the chariot was equipped with all that a Gavel could need. A bunk for sleeping, a wall with hangars for their various armaments, a small kitchenette was attached to the stove, and a bookshelf lined two of the walls. Sitting in the corner was the small furnace which powered the carriage. Bloodstone gleamed with a pink resonance as it burned inside. The other two walls had been reserved solely for the sturdy wooden filing cabinets that Anjelica herself had made. They had to be custom due to the intricate array of latches which kept the doors shut and the contents inside. Upon leaving the Conservatory she had made a point to claim as many of the loose reports and studies of magical happenings, spells, creatures, and artifacts as they allowed. After six wheelbarrows worth of notes had disappeared into the chariot, the archivists had finally put a stop to it. The purpose of her collection, ostensibly, was to have some work to pluck away at that would still benefit the order, but if she were honest it was truly because she would just get unreasonably bored. The nearly forty boxes of mixed reports, recordings, studies, and maps had been reduced to a mere two that sat in the corner. Anjelica had been reluctant to look through them as it would mean the end of her entertainment. All that were left were old ravings and myths about unopenable doors and rivers of blood. She began to dig through one of these boxes of mismatched knowledge searching for something interesting to read

Her search was interrupted by the lurch of the carriage coming to a halt.

Ah, she thought, finally something to speak with Hound about! I wonder if we’ve arrived at our resting place for the night? Perhaps a secluded glade where we could talk while doing chores? Or maybe it will be a lavish inn where we will sample fine foods? Anjelica’s thoughts raced.

Striding towards the carriage door she made a point to look into the mirror to ensure that she was presentable.

Flowing black hair curled in natural locks around her face. Her sharp features and rosy skin were only interrupted by the small, circular glasses and the ornate leather eyepatch across her left eye. The patch had been embroidered with the Gavel of her order in cerulean thread. Her right eye shone with a brilliant emerald color as it observed herself. A near constant grin adorned her face, through which you could see an elongated canine tooth.

She was tall and reedy but her form was solid from years of training and battle. A dark blue collared shirt flowed out from underneath her leather cuirass. Along her belt were two cartridge pistols with their wide barrels, a rapier, and a small satchel in which she kept her tinctures and tonics. Large shells for the pistols sat in a bandolier across her chest. Her leather boots covered her darkly dyed woolen pants up to the knee. Several small belts were cinched loosely across her forearms and upper thighs sporting extra shells and daggers.

She straightened her collar and adjusted the coiress before turning to investigate the stoppage.

Anjelica swung herself out onto the step outside the door. Her eyebrow raised in confusion as she looked out at the scene before her.

Hound had left the driver's seat of the carriage. His boots, also laced up to the knee, were now spattered with mud slowly drying in the sunlight. The long red jacket that he wore in perpetuity had flecks of mud splattered on its hem. The collar was large and stood upright so that it covered Hound’s entire jaw. Silver hair ran in a long stream down onto his back even while it was pulled into a ponytail. Anjelica could only see one of Hound’s deep, red eyes that looked up with gentleness towards the form of a chestnut horse that was obviously frightened.

One of Hound’s hands had emerged from his oversized sleeves to grasp the reins of the horse. Upon its back rested a saddle with a bedroll. Though the horse slammed its feet in a nervous staccato it seemed to be calmed by the presence of people.

"Are you abandoning me for new company so quickly?” Anjelica asked playfully. A small giggle emerged as she stepped down into the sun dried mud. She traced along his shoulder with her fingertips before grabbing hold of the reins.

“He came rushing down the road,” Hound growled out in answer. His eyes trailed along the path her fingers had tread before meeting Anjelica’s with a cold seriousness.

Anjelica walked over and placed a hand on the horse's snout. In an instant the beast pushed his head into her hand.

“How did a friendly boy like you end up all the way out here?” The breath of the horse vibrated as he drew in quick, panting breaths. “You must not have run far if you were sprinting away from something. Let us see if we can find the object of your fear my new friend! Hound?” At Anjelica’s words Hound’s cold gaze met hers to indicate his attention,“Could you get the carriage ready to move, love? If there is someone being attacked then they cannot be far up the road. We can bring this one with us.”

Hound uttered no sound of recognition. Instead he set about the task his superior had bestowed upon him. Walking towards the carriage he began to climb the ladder up to the wheel, pedals, and levers that comprised the driving seat of the caravan.

Anjelica took the horse by the reins and led them gently to the side of the carriage.

“His owner must have had a reason for coming out here…” Hound’s low voice said from above her upon her approach.

After securing the horse to one of the metal rings on the side of the carriage, Anjelica began to investigate the saddle.

“They were probably just desperate!” Anjelica yelled up to him as she dug through one of the saddlebags. There was only a handful of hay, an old torn tarp, and a yellowed envelope inside, “There is not a speck of food in the saddlebags. They were traveling light.”

She pulled out the envelope and waved it towards Hound in the high seat.

“They sustained themselves on tarps, hay, and good memories,” Anjelica shouted up to him jokingly. “Without food they could not have traveled far. Maybe they lost their way in the woods heading back to Tumville?”

Placing the letter back into the saddlebag, she began to walk back towards the carriage.

Hound set the contraption into motion as she ascended the ladder rungs up to the driving bench. Just as she raised her foot up to take the final step onto the deck an echoing boom rang out over the treetops. Startled, Anjelica almost fell backwards off of the ladder.

Birds scattered from the treetops as a huge column of flame roared above the treeline. It seemed to twist and taper before vanishing off into the sky. No smoke emerged from the inferno which cast off a violet radiance. For a moment it stood there, monolithic, before dissipating with flames flicking off of it as the last strand of blazing light disappeared into an intangible point in the sky.

Anjelica’s hands began to shake. Her eyes, anxious and darting, met with Hound’s cold seriousness. A scowl crossed her face as she noticed her trembling fingers. They clenched into fists as Anjelica took a deep breath.

There is work to be done, she thought.

“I believe we might have found the reason we are here, Hound. It is our duty to investigate. If the Everlight has reemerged….” she trailed off. Her brow furrowed with worrying creases.

“...Our duty compels us.” Hound muttered from behind his jacket.

Duty to the crown or to the people? Anjelica’s thoughts chimed in sarcastically.

Anjelica looked at him with anger for just a moment before her expression turned to one of annoyance. Finally taking a seat next to Hound on the bench she drew one of her pistols. Clicking the latch, the barrel mechanism fell forward. Removing one of the shells from the bandolier, she placed it into the gun before flicking it upwards in a fluid motion to lock it closed.

“Yes. I suppose that it does, Hound. "’For the safety and prosperity of the people...Take us somewhere our talents could be of better use,” she said as she had so many times before.

Hound nodded and his red gaze shifted to the road. He pulled up the reins and set the carriage in motion. As they picked up speed, the horse found its gait and ran alongside them down the path.