Aclysia was ordering the teeth on the table for what may have been the hundredth time. The pearly white pieces slid over the table, taking their place one by one in an imaginary, jawless, maw and around a single emerald feather. It was all she could do to keep her mind occupied. Ten teeth and a single feather, that was all she was able to save from Apexus’ body. Everything else had fallen into the nothingness, was unfitting to be keepsake or too large to be taken with when the Inquisition had dragged her away.

She barely remembered what had happened after her beloved awakener’s death. A terrifying neutrality had taken hold of her, the kind of emotional shock that prevented further mental damage from occurring immediately. One that she had been stuck in for the short time since. When they had tried to take her away, she had struggled and broken free once, unwilling to move away. That was when she had hastily clamoured whatever parts of the slime weren’t subject to biological degradation. Afterwards, the brute had dragged her away.

The same brute that was now in the room with her.

Berholdth, a name she had heard by chance, just like the other two. He was a giant man with dark hair and light brown eyes. A square jaw and broad shoulders completed the look of a person who was made to be a Warrior. With fists of that size and the right training, there would be very few problems violence couldn’t solve. In a rugged way he looked good, but was not particularly handsome.

Next to him, outside of her charred leather armour and into her blue robes, was Evmeria. The Inquisitor was a good-looking woman. With the fine black hair, cut relatively short, and her lanky build, she would have made for quite a noblewoman. Much like the stereotypical noblewoman, Evmeria also radiated a cold dismissiveness and even though her eyes were nothing but blind glass spheres, they seemingly radiated some sort of scorn.

Last of the trio was Mehily. A person that only lived thanks to Aclysia’s own intervention. The blonde had the face of a Priest aiming to be an adventurer. That was to say, it had hard shapes, a clearly defined nose, a reddish mouth, thick eyebrows. She wasn’t gorgeous by any means, she was, however, attractive for those who liked their woman to look strong and capable.

Capable enough to rip two loved ones apart, certainly.

Mehily herself, although she stood there diligently, as duty commanded, was internally squirming as the angel of Hashahin stared at the three of them. Aclysia was a beautiful being, pale skin, a wonderfully symmetric head, from the facial features to the pointy ears and even the basis of hair. Her body would make countless men’s head turn. ‘Not just men,’ as the Priest herself had to admit, unable to withhold pity for the metal fairy and her sheer endless stream of tears that dropped onto the lap of her halfway ruined dress.

They had offered her whatever she wanted, food, drink, new clothes, but so far, the divine messenger had not broken her silence. She had just sat down on the table in this room and waited since. Always reserved for angels and their kind, it was a highly luxurious place, on the highest floor of the Church of the 33. Every bit of furniture was dominated by glass, finely cut into crystal shapes. What wasn’t as clearly polished as the air itself was some sort of artistic relief. Even the floor was one continuously expanding painting of the circle of seasons, showing a tree from above in the numerous stages of holding leaves. Decay, death, rebirth, life, a never-ending cycle to the colours of brown, blue, green and red. In the middle of it all, a circle of perfect white, the branches and leaves clearly outlined with black lines.

Aclysia turned back to rearranging the teeth, trying to find where they had been in Apexus face exactly. That she wasn’t sure where which one belonged irked her to an illogical degree. If only she had paid even more attention to him, maybe she would know. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all.

‘If I hadn’t held Reysha back then…’ Aclysia thought but only felt her tears more clearly. That wasn’t the solution to this problem. It wasn’t their mercy that caused this situation. Quite the reverse was the true problem here.

The door to the room opened with a quiet whisper as well-oiled angles swung inside. Aclysia looked to the side long enough to perceive the new arrival. A man of advanced age entered. Tanned skin, bushy black beard with grey streaks, a bit tall and definitely muscular. Most important was his robe.

As all Priest robes it was white at the base, to pay veneration to the Progenitor god, and then added the colour of the gods he was further serving. Icy blue, dark green and a neutral red. If she had wanted to, Aclysia could have analysed which exact gods he was serving by the shades. As it stood, she could only barely see the golden embroidery on his shoulders, which gave him an incredibly important rank throughout all the multiverse.

One that she honoured reflexively despite her current state of grief. “Cardinal,” she said, respectfully lowering her head, even now her voice was as clear and wonderful as the ringing of a crystal chalice.

“Angel of Hashahin, Aclysia,” the man answered. “My name is Remezan, for a divine such as you, that will be enough.”

“I have no claims to my divine birthright,” Aclysia retorted and went back to assorting the teeth around the feather.

Slowly the Cardinal came closer, sitting down opposite of her as if he could shatter her existence if he moved too quickly. His tone was just as carefully prodding. “And why would that be?”

“I forfeit it, to remain on this world, remain with him,” Aclysia responded.

“IT,” Evmeria violently interjected, her disdain for the slime in question and the metal fairy’s decisions as clear as the driven snow in her voice.

“Quiet!” Remezan lashed back at her just as violently and the Inquisitor lowered her head. Not in shame, but in simple submission to a superior. When he addressed Aclysia again, the ever-crying angel acted as if the interjection had never happened. “Could you elaborate on that? I have been wondering how you remain here, with your Quest fulfilled and your awakener dead.”

“What good would it do you to know?” Aclysia wondered.

“I need to understand a lot of things,” Remezan continued to calmly but firmly push her to answers. “So, please, answer me. What harm does it do to you?”

Indeed, there was no more harm to be done to her. Only truth to be spoken. “Upon the completion of the quest, Apexus, my awakener, my darling, asked of me to wish for me to stay by his side. Happily, I obliged, bringing the quest to my father. Hashahin was not happy with this. He did not wish for me stay in servitude…”

“…to a monster, no surprise.”

“Evmeria!” Remezan growled and the earlier play repeated itself.

“…he wished me to, if I were to remain, do so as a free person, not as a tool to Apexus. Therefore, we came to decide that I could remain walking the leaves as a person as ordinary as I can be for as long as I love him,” Aclysia gently caressed the feather in front of her. “A love that won’t die soon.”

“You loved a monster?” Mehily could not help but ask.

The metal fairy’s head flew up, her green eyes reflecting with such terrible wrath that the Priest could not help and take a step backwards. Divine anger mixed with the irrational retribution of a sorrowful lover in Aclysia voice, “Monster, monster, monster,” Aclysia felt something break inside her on that question, the dam that had kept reality from properly creeping in on her. “You keep repeating that word like it’s a mantra that justifies your actions. Whatever did my darling do that was so monstrous? How many people did he hurt? Unlike you, who would rather see him dead than captured, he spared your lives. Indeed, the only monsters I can observe as of this moment are you.” She looked back down, to the infinite, unsolvable puzzle of Apexus incomplete, unique jaw. “Leave me alone, your presence itself disgusts me.”

Remezan pressed his lips together, feeling that he won’t get answers to the questions of Apotho right now. “If you need anything, please, call for the servant in front of the door,” he stayed nice and rose. After he left, Evmeria followed, as did Berholdth and Mehily.

The blonde priestess looked back to close the door. Wondering if, perhaps, it was indeed them who had acted the part of the monsters.