"Rowan?" I call out. "Hey, Rowan?"

I scowl, looking over the battlefield where I recently fought Capita. Six corpses lie in the road, a shallow crater behind them where Capita's implosion spell annihilated part of the ground. There's no sign of Rowan around, but that means I don't feel his soul hanging around either so he's probably not dead. He didn't run after me to help with Capita anymore, so there's only one other place he'd have gone: the shack. Unless he’s an idiot, but when it doesn’t come to gambling the guy is super smart. I assume that's where I'll end up finding him.

In the meantime, I suppose it would be a waste not to see what these bodies have on them. I kneel down, hands quickly rifling through the pockets of the dead. First come, first serve. That's just how it is around here.

"Excuse me, miss, but you wouldn't happen to know what occurred here, would you?"

After just the first few words I'm jumping to my feet, drawing my spear and swearing up a storm as my heart beats a mile a minute. What the fuck? Where is that voice coming from? There's no one here but me! Turning around, however, my eyes disagree with my soul sense. A figure in pristine white scale-forged armor with red trim stands a respectful distance behind me. The armor of a High Templar.

They don't seem to have a soul at all.

All three of my eyes look around wildly, panic filling me. How long have they been here? Why can’t I feel them? Am I going to die? If I can’t affect their soul, I don’t stand a chance! But how do they not have one? I’ve never—

“Ah, my apologies, miss. I didn’t mean to startle you. I am High Templar Braum. I’m here to ask a few questions.”

Hearing the voice is just weird to me. Everything feels wrong, my mind reeling to find answers to basic questions. Are they a man or a woman? What type of person are they? How are they feeling? It fills me with unreasonable panic, and it shouldn’t. I know how to do this shit. It's not like I've always had a soul sense. Old skills churn slowly to the surface of my mind, interpreting for my lesser senses. The voice sounds deep and masculine. His posture is relaxed and nonthreatening. This person is not attacking or moving to attack. I don't need a soul sense to guess that, as much as I would really like a read on this person.

"U-uh, it's fine," I say, swallowing as much of my discomfort as I can. "You startled me."

I put away my spear, fairly certain it won't help me very much if he decides to attack anyway. I may as well encourage him to not do so. First Capita, now this guy? What the fuck is going on with my luck today? The High Templar chuckles, though I have no idea if it's in good humor, malice, or straight up insanity. When did I start relying on my soul sense this much?

"Apologies again!" he says. "You're far from the first person I've accidentally frightened, much to my chagrin. I tend to appear wherever I'm needed, usually without warning. To that end, I was just getting back to town when I heard an explosion. So again, I feel it is my duty to ask: do you know what happened here?"

I shrug, trying to channel all my experience running cons with Rowan to keep as straight a face as possible.

"By the looks of it, I'm going to guess a turf war," I answer. It's a very believable answer for this part of town, and it's technically not even a lie.

"I… see. And what, may I ask, are you doing with the bodies?"

"Checking them for valuables," I shrug again, entirely unashamed. "You've gotta get what you can to survive around here. Speaking of, it's really weird to see a High Templar in this part of town."

"Well, most of us have been assigned abroad. With the Hiverock situation, it was deemed necessary to recall us. …Although it would seem things have gotten much worse than I expected during my absence. I must admit, I find it odd to see someone so well armed and armored resorting to petty thievery of the dead to get by."

I blink.

“I guess that's a good point," I mutter thoughtfully. "I suppose I don't need this stuff. Collecting it is just kind of a habit. I should probably let some other urchins have it."

Especially if my family is getting moved to a better part of town, with Penelope footting some of the bill. In that sense, I suppose my family has made it. They're pretty much living the dream of every kid here, to be rescued by some rich hero with a heart of gold. Penelope is not normally someone I would call altruistic, but she definitely has her moments.

"You need to let the guard have it," the High Templar corrects. "These people need to be identified and their belongings returned to their families."

Families? Oh shit, I hope they don't have families. It would be just my luck to create another vengeful pseudo-orphan right after I finished getting rid of the last one. I should have considered that. Still…

"You're absolutely bonkers if you think the guard would do anything with the valuables on these bodies other than pocket them," I say bluntly. "Just leave it all here. Or better yet, give it to the first street kid you see. It could save their life."

I wish I could at least see the man’s expression, though his face remains stubbornly behind a helmet.

"Have we truly fallen so far?" he mutters to himself.

I shrug once more, for it is an expression that serves me well when hiding my heart-smashing panic. I decide to take that small monologue as my permission to leave, but unfortunately, he calls out to me as I go.

"What is your name, Miss?"

I grimace. They probably have my face plastered somewhere in the Templar headquarters, so as much as I want to lie it's probably a bad idea.

"Vita," I answer. "I'm a hunter. …And I guess a slave of House Erebus, technically."

I don't want to add the last part, but it does mean he can't legally stab me through the face on a whim so it seems prudent to include. Besides, maybe I'll be lucky and he won't recognize me. He implied that he just made it back to town after a long time abroad, after all.

"Oh, you're that girl," he hums thoughtfully, crushing all of my hopes. "You're accused of some quite heinous crimes."

I narrow my eyes. Figures.

"You may direct any allegations against me towards First Lord Erebus. And for the record, I believe I was promised a reward for wiping out the Nawra and retrieving Remus and his sword unharmed. I've yet to receive it. Unless you intend to deliver that, may I go?"

"Yes," he says immediately, much to my relief. "Between you and me, I find the report rather suspect. But the higher-ups will be going through with the investigation regardless. I regret to inform you you will most likely have to deal with Inquisitors bothering you in the future. I do apologize. I assure you, the Inquisitors are an honorable sort, with no compunctions against prosecuting a High Templar should… someone be framing you like your master claims. We have learned the dangers of letting rot fester in our organization."

Not trusting myself to respond to that can of worms, I simply shrug one last time, keeping my face steady as I turn and walk away. High Templars are returning and Inquisitors are apparently coming, whatever those are. They sure don’t sound good. If they have some way of actually detecting animancy, I'm kind of fucked… and if I had a secret animancy-detecting branch of Templars, I’d probably name them Inquisitors. Just another problem to add to the pile, I suppose. It's interesting that Galdra is apparently not well-liked or trusted by one of her fellow High Templars, however. If I'm to get out of this mess, that might be my angle to do it.

Only after walking around several corners do I dare to turn my head to check if I'm being followed. Braum isn't there, thankfully. I pick up the pace, sprinting all the way back home. An unfathomable amount of relief washes over me when I feel the souls of Rowan and the children, safe and sound where they should be. Thank goodness.

"Rowan!" I shout, waving as I approach the shack.

He peeks his head door, giving a relieved sigh of his own as he sees me approach.

"Vita!" he calls back, scooping me into a hug as I rush into him. "Thank the Watcher you're alright! After you vanished, I ran off to look for you, but… well, I couldn't leave the kids alone and I had to trust you would be okay. I'm glad I was right."

"Yeah, good call," I nod. "Capita and I are under a truce, I guess. Hopefully, she'll convince Sky to leave you and mom alone. If not… well, you and the kids should be out of here by then, right?"

He nods.

"According to your friend, that's right." he rubs his thumb across the cut on my face. "...Speaking of which, you should go see her. I see you’ve gotten your things back, but you should get yourself healed up too. You took a bit of a beating, there."

I sigh, lacking the energy to argue that. I didn’t really get that injured, just a few cuts and scrapes, but I definitely bit off more than I can chew again. Not much more, though. Next time, I'll be ready. In some regards, I'm pretty darn lucky that Capita was so willing to forgive me. Maybe there won't be a next time, and I'll be able to trust her to help with our animancy research of her own volition. I don't know if she'll have much time while she's still working for Sky, though, and we need her sooner rather than later.

As nice as she is to me, I have zero compunctions about killing the woman that permanently scarred my mother's soul. Capita is insane, and she's a danger to everyone no matter how nice she happens to be to me personally.

"By the way, Rowan, have you heard of a High Templar Braum?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Braum the Ubiquitous? Yeah, of course. He's a kynamancer, although a drastically more powerful one than I am. They say if you're speaking with him, you're almost always speaking with an illusion. He can see and hear through them somehow, and create them over vast distances. I believe he can even cast spells through them, although that gets more into speculation. He's one of the more esoteric High Templars, and they keep his exact abilities secret for national security reasons. Why do you ask?"

An illusion! Of course! No wonder the dude didn't have a soul.

"I saw him on the way here. Apparently, he just got back in town and heard our fight. Thankfully, I guess he didn't see it."

“Oh, shit. You're not in any trouble, are you Vita?" Rowan asks.

I snort.

"Not any more than before I met him. He was polite, I think?"

"You think?"

I don't know what to say to that, so I just shrug. I think he was polite, but I'm really not sure.

"Well, please don't run off and start a fight with him," Rowan sighs. "I don't think I'll ever get the smell of burning hair out of my nostrils. Honestly, you shouldn't be starting fights with people in general."

"Yeah. Sorry. I was afraid she was marching a bunch of goons to take the kids," I shrug.

He grimaces.

"You think, again? Please tell me I didn't just burn a woman alive over a misunderstanding."

"She's fine anyway," I dismiss, waving him off. "She doesn't even seem hurt. We talked it out, nobody even died."

"Vita, you killed six people," Rowan says slowly, giving me a weird look.

"Okay, nobody except those guys," I admit. "That's my bad. But their souls are kind of gross so they were probably assholes anyway."

“Vita!”

The chastisement in Rowan’s voice is obvious. Although... maybe it’s only obvious since I can feel it in his soul, too.

"Hey, I gave them a warning," I answer, standing my ground. "I warned them, and then they drew weapons on me. So yeah, I killed them. What do you want me to do, stand around and get stabbed? I made the mistake of not following through on ultimatums before, and I'm not gonna make it again."

"Have you considered simply not making ultimatums?" Rowan counters, prodding me in the collarbone. "If you're going to insist on following through with threats, then threaten people less."

I scowl, but I suppose he's not entirely wrong.

"It's just been a stressful few days, okay?" I mumble.

He sighs, nodding slowly.

"Yeah. It has. We're relying on you, Vita. You never met them, but… Angelien is far from the first one we lost. But this time, you're keeping the grief away. Delaying it. Our hope in you… Lyn and I need it to keep going, right now. So stay safe, okay?"

He hugs me again, resting his chin on my head. Grabbing him back, I squeeze, tendril-enhanced strength going into the embrace. Everyone is counting on me. I can’t let them down again.

“I should head back to the hunter’s guild,” I announce after a long period of silence. “I’m supposed to check in every day. One last thing, though. Is there a way to extend magic resistance to my stuff?”

Rowan shakes his head glumly.

"Unfortunately, no. I've seen plenty of people have their clothes blasted off like yours were because of exactly that. Well, not exactly like yours, but… it happens due to all sorts of magic. The best and usually only way to protect your stuff is to dodge the spell. Only living things can have magic resistance, so…"

He trails off, thinking for a moment.

"…Actually, for you there's probably a way."

"If it's putting souls into my stuff, that didn't seem to work." I say. "I had that going on in a bunch of my weapons during the fight. Even if my shards grant magic resistance, they’re probably way too small and weak to resist any spells that matter. If I have to give a fucking massive soul to each individual object..."

"Huh. Well, that’s interesting but not what I was thinking actually," Rowan says, cutting me off. "Your friend mentioned that the mana you produce destroys naturally-occurring mana on contact, right? And you can push it outside your body safely?"

My eyes go wide, a grin creeping up my mouth.

"You think I can just destroy the spells?" I ask. That would be amazing!

"You’d have to overpower the raw mana being used, but hypothetically? The idea has potential. If you put a soul into an object, you might be able to pump your mana into that soul as well, which should let it store some? Maybe? I'm definitely guessing at this point, but it's something worth experimenting with."

I give him another quick squeeze.

"Thanks, Rowan! That could be just what I need!"

He ruffles my hair.

"Happy to help. Go knock 'em dead, kiddo. Er, figuratively."

I groan, stepping away from him and shooting him a playful scowl.

"When are you and mom gonna stop with that 'kiddo' stuff?" I complain.

He shrugs, flashing me a shit-eating grin.

"When you stop being tiny and adorable, so probably never."

"Whatever, grandpa!" I taunt, turning and running off towards the guildhouse.

"That won't work on me like it does with Lyn!" Rowan calls after me. "I've always been an old man at heart!"

"We know, Mr. Mutton Chops!" I quip back.

That one gets a reaction, and I glance backwards with a laugh, seeing him pat the sides of his face. Then, I'm around a corner, heading away from my family and back to work. I feel better now. Something about getting teleported thousands of feet up really gave my mood a hard reset, earlier. I messed up, sure. There's a lot of problems in just about every direction. But it's okay, I don't have to spend all day every day beating myself up about it, because no matter how bad it is, nothing so far is unfixable.

Not even death.