Chapter 114

The forests were a dappled green blur as she flew above, her drakes' wings flapping slowly, her hair streaming out like a silver and golden banner. Katarina had no idea where she was heading, but it wasn't as if she were flying aimlessly; she had her purpose, and that was certainly enough for her. If she'd stuck to known routes, she would have flown east-southeast from Darnell to the industrial city of Begierde, or perhaps to its port city just southword of it, Einsamkeit.

A clue; though not much to go on- Her sister sought some half-mythical relic known only as the 'heretic stone'. Whether or not it was a stone, and the reason for it being heretical was unknown, it was storied to be exceedingly blasphemous to the Golden Lady, and located "far to the east, beyond even the forests and lakes".

How long had it been since she'd seen sights of human civilization? Last week she'd made the mistake of landing in what she thought were abandoned ruins, only to have hundreds of doglike beastmen swarm out from buildings seemingly everywhere at once. She couldn't possibly fight all of them and survive; instead she'd launched her drake back to the skies and beat a hasty retreat.

She signaled with her knees, and her drake obediently slowed, and began stroking its wings against the air to hover nearly stationary. She consulted her map again, and clamped her lips tight. Nothing in the area was listed. Nobody had passed this way in perhaps thousands of years. The Anglish hadn't penetrated deeply into the great forests of Hesperia. The country of Urthan to the north of Aston was no better, though they had less forests and more rocky steppes to their credit.

Katarina took out her spyglass and scanned ahead, having caught a glimmer of light in the distance. After a few minutes of examination, she urged the drake forward as she stowed the spyglass.

Armilla shifted behind her. "Hmm?" She asked sleepily.

"Nothing." Katarina replied sourly. Only she could manage to fall asleep on the back of a drake as it flew a mile above the ground. "Tell me apprentice, how exactly are you to perform your duties should I fall if you have no memory of how we get there?" She asked caustically.

"Sorry." Armilla mumbled.

"I’m sure that’ll be a great consolation to my corpse." Katarina muttered acerbically. Armilla clenched her jaw at this, and was about to argue, but Katarina changed topics.

"There's a lake ahead. let's check it out."

The wyrm surged ahead, wings beating powerfully. It wasn't quite a dive, but it was a rapid descent. They hurtled towards the lake at a breakneck speed. Katarina had to huddle over the neck of her mount to keep from getting ripped off the saddle. The wind roared in her ears, the wind tugged hard against her hat, and she squinted futilely.

"Circle the lake!" She yelled, and the drake leaned into a curve. As they circled the lake, Katarina hazarded a look down, and scanned the beaches. No sign of civilization. The lake was bean-shaped, and was fed by a northern river. the river continued to the west, dropping off a cliff face to tumble down into the trackless forests. She pointed towards a sandbar.

"There! We'll land there!" and the drake rumbled in her chest.

The drake reared back and began flapping briskly to bleed off all the speed she had accumulated. Had she not been mounted, she would have simply folded her wings and dove into the lake, letting the water break her momentum and slow her speed. As she came up she would have likely gulped down a great many fish. Instead, she broke her speed by flying against the momentum she'd created, and finally dropping to the ground, her backstrokes whipping up a furious cloud of sand, pebbles, rocks, and twigs.

Katarina dismounted alongside a very alert Armilla, who was busy trying to steady her breathing.

Katarina stroked the drake's neck affectionately. "You're a dear, you know that?" She murmured, and uncinched the drakes' harnesses and the saddle.

"Go play around and catch yourself some food while I set up camp. Try not to go too far, I may have need of you." The drake eyed her, rumbled in her chest, and launched herself into the air, only to loop about midair and plunge into the lake. Katarina snorted, picked up the saddle, packs, and associated straps and buckles that made up the necessarily complicated harness that anchored the saddle to the drake without restricting both ground and air movement.

She set up camp with Armilla next to a deadfall, shamelessly using her newly acquired powers to fell a tree at the forests' edge.

The change bothered her a bit. Her hair had originally been almost totally white, with perhaps the barest hint of blonde; now it was a rich, lustrous pearl, heavily streaked with golden strands. Her abilities had all revolved around hunting witches, like her amazingly high natural resistances to magic and the ability to project a field around herself that simply cancelled out any magic in a ten-foot bubble; now she had access to nearly the full range of powers of Glory. She wasn't certain, but it seemed like she was much stronger and faster than she used to be. She already knew she was taller, more slender than she’d used to be before she’d become "The Living Saint Katarina Pavlenko".

The abilities and the changes within herself were confusing and gave her a vague sense of uneasiness, but from time to time she would dream of a young woman that would smile and reassure her that her abilities were not to be feared.

Night fell suddenly; her drake crunched across the sandbar and settled herself near the fire.

Armilla spoke up as they ate a light dinner of rations and canteen water.

"We’ve flown perhaps over a hundred miles. Do you think we’ve overshot Alsabet?" She asked. Katarina shook her head.

"Certainly not. I’ve kept an eye on where we’re going, after all." She mocked. Armilla frowned irritably, but kept her mouth shut. "It’s easy to conceal yourself in a forest; even harder when your pursuer is flying overhead." Katarina continued, prodding the fire. Armilla nodded.

Any assault would have to come from either down the beach or from the forest itself; the felled tree and the bulk of the drake locked off the other two directions. Katarina fell into a deep yet troubled sleep, trusting Armilla and Marcela to keep watch.

In the morning, Katarina staggered from her bedroll and idly swept her hair into the loose ponytail she'd kept it in since she was a child, went down to the water's edge and washed her face. She scooped some water into her hands to drink and fell back with a shocked yell. Her drake lifted its head and swiveled to look at her alertly. Armilla emerged from the forest, her gun ready, eyes alert.

Katarina crept back to the water's edge and looked down at her reflection. The amount of gold in her hair had advanced overnight.

Armilla trotted over to Katarina, gun at the ready.

"What is it?" She called. Katarina shook her head. "It’s nothing. Freaked out over my reflection." She shook her head. "Stupid."

She trudged back to camp and collapsed at the firepit. The day had only begun and she already felt exhausted. She rummaged around in her packs and found some rations. She hadn't time to hunt, and the supplies the Duchess had provided had already been eaten, so she'd been eating sparingly. After breakfast came the rituals of cleaning for her gun and sword; Armilla broke down her gun and cleaned it alongside Katarina, and as Katarina sung a hymn, Armilla matched her.

She drew Galatine slowly. The blade was a beautiful and polished milk-white, without stain or chip. She reversed the blade and planted the tip in the dirt. She knelt and bowed her head and prayed to her Goddess for strength of mind, clarity of purpose, and a sure aim.

After she was done praying, Armilla spoke up.

"Your Grace-" she began, and Katarina frowned angrily.

"I’ve told you before apprentice, call me Katarina. I’m getting tired of reminding you."

Armilla sighed, but let it drop."Katarina, then."

"What?" the Witch Hunter replied, wiping down the blade with an oiled cloth.

"Why do you sing that particular hymn when you clean your gun?" Armilla asked. "It’s got nothing to do with the rituals of cleaning and purification."

The question was so absurd Katarina threw back her head and laughed. "No, it doesn’t. But it has a beat, and I use that beat to time the steps of my cleaning. Disassembly, cleaning, lubricating, reassembly. Each piece, each lyric, it all fits together. Since the song has a specific rhythm, I know exactly how long it takes to clean my gun properly." She shrugged and finished her wiping. "The song itself doesn’t have anything to do with purification or even my role as an agent of the church, but it does serve a purpose." She glanced back at Armilla, who took this all in. "It may be that there’s a song out there for you to time your weapon-cleaning by. Or not. It may not work for you at all. Find something that does."

She turned back to Marcela, and began the process of harnessing and saddling her, followed by packing up camp. After her bedroll and packs and supplies had been stowed away, She mounted up and helped Armilla to climb up. Marcela launched herself into the air, and Armilla had to clench her teeth to keep from vomiting at the lurching, stomach-wrenching feelings of vertigo as the drake gained altitude.

"I wonder if there’ll ever be a time when people don’t run screaming at the sight of a Drake." Armilla wondered aloud as they passed over a city, where people pointed, screamed, or ran.

"I dunno." Katarina replied casually. "You think that’s Landeck down there?" She asked, and Armilla shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine." She replied. "I’ve never been here before. Shall we land?" She offered.

Katarina nodded and leaned down and pointed. "Aye, I think we should." She replied. "That's probably the church." She mentioned, and Armilla agreed.

"Might be able to set down on the green, there." Armilla suggested, and Katarina laughed. "Might could be." she agreed. "They'd likely take umbrage with us landing there, but I think we could do it."

After a long pause to consider the land as they circled, Katarina shook her head. "Nah. Might need to take off quickly, and we don't have the room to launch off. We'll land outside the city and come in on foot."

She glanced back at her apprentice. "None of that ‘Katarina the Living Saint’ business from you, either." She warned. "We’re just getting directions."

Armilla sighed noisily enough for Katarina to hear over the dull roar of Marcela’s heavy wingstrokes. "You can’t escape what you are, Your Grace."

"Say that again and I’ll kick you off." Katarina grumbled. "We’ll see if you can escape that."

She leaned forward and patted Marcela’s neck. "Let’s head south, dear heart." She called to Marcela, who harrumphed, and made a leisurely turn.

"There was a clearing just south of Landeck near a small lake, or pond." She added to the drake. "We’ll stop there, for now."

When they landed and had dismounted, Katarina rounded on Armilla.

"We’re going to have a chat, you and I." She began, and gestured in front of her. "Stand here." She indicated.

Armilla let out a breath through her nose, but did as instructed. Katarina turned away for a moment, and then swung back to face her.

"I don’t need an apprentice." She finally started. "I don’t want an apprentice." She added angrily. "If I had wanted an apprentice, I would have taken one." She stated flatly, her mind going to her awkward offer to Sasaki a year previous. "The only reason you’re my apprentice is because the Book of the Golden Lady and Her Grace the Grand Cardinal decided that I needed a minder."

Armilla opened her mouth, but Katarina raised a hand, interrupting her. "I’m not finished." Armilla subsided unhappily.

"I don’t need you. I don’t want you. I’ve done my job for ten years without taking on an apprentice, and frankly, I don’t want the responsibility of saving your ass all the time." She continued. "The least they could have done is give me a Witch Hunter as an apprentice- someone that’s used to being flexible and is capable of thinking around corners!" She fumed, throwing her hands in the air. "So here it is, final warning, last chance: You’re going to refer to me as Katarina or you can leave. Period. I’m tired of having this discussion with you, so you need to understand that this is it: this is the last chance. Either you do what I say or leave you behind."

She planted her hands on her hips and smiled rakishly. "I can’t escape what I am?" She repeated. "Probably not. But I probably wouldn’t have so many problems with it if my incompetent apprentice would stop spouting off at every opportunity."

She took a deep breath and let it out, and then another. "All right. There, I’ve aired out my problems with you." She gestured. "Your turn. Let’s get everything out in the open, and then work together to fix our problems."

Armilla frowned. "Must I really?" She asked, and Katarina nodded. "Let it all out."

"Fine. You’re an arrogant bitch." Armilla began hotly. "You don’t follow protocol. I’ve seen the reports on you, and you said it yourself: ‘Always carry yourself with the expectation that you are in charge and that they will follow your orders’." She quoted. "You don’t respect anyone. You don’t even respect the authority of the position the Golden Lady has blessed you with." Armilla snorted. "I’m done. That’s it, that’s all I’ve got."

Katarina shrugged. "I don’t care about power or prestige. I don’t care about the power or prestige of the people I interact with. It’s meaningless to me. I care about hunting the Witch." She replied. "That’s all I care about. I don’t care if you’re a Cardinal or if you’re a peasant, I’m going to treat you the exact same way." She finished. "I’ve done it this way for ten years, apprentice. Ten. I’ll clue you in on something else: You’ll be like me too, if you live long enough. Sooner or later someone along the line will use you. A Knight. A Lord. An influential heiress. Someone will look at you and they won’t see you. They’ll see the awe and authority of a Witch Hunter, and they’ll badger or bribe or cajole or manipulate you into doing what they want and you’ll do it and they’ll get what they want but you... you’ll feel used and discarded and maybe your Witch will get away while you fuck around with that political shit." Katarina replied steadily. "They’ll tell their friends: ‘Hey, Armilla is an easy mark.’ and they’ll want to take advantage of you, too." She fluttered her hands mockingly as she said this, driving the point home. "Witch Hunters don’t have the luxury of bowing to whatever authority happens to bounce across their path. You pursue the Witch. Everything else is secondary." She frowned at Armilla.

"You saw Norn." She stated flatly. "None of that- None of that would have happened if things had gone my way. A punitive force would have set out, I would have caught the witch that may or may not have been my sister," She stepped closer to Armilla, and lowered her voice, "And I never would have met you."

"Ah, but you wouldn’t have become a Saint, either." Armilla observed.

Katarina rolled her eyes. "Even better." She replied, and Armilla’s face twisted angrily. Before Armilla could object, she continued.

"Though, if it were the Golden Lady’s desire that I become a Saint, then going or not going to Darnell wouldn’t have changed that fact." Katarina allowed. "But the job would have been done." She spread her hands. "We’ve traveled all over this continent and have very little to show for it."

She pointed at Armilla. "We’re going into that city, and we’re just going to ask the question: "Is this Landeck?" If the answer is ‘yes’, then we’ll begin our investigation and see if that mage we pursued came through here." She stretched back and forth, feeling the bones in her back pop comfortably. "If not, then we leave. No parades. No ‘can you bless my child?’. No choirs, no leading prayers for the masses. No statues, no posing for a painting." She listed, ticking them off on her fingers. "You get me?"

Armilla sighed. "Katarina, they need to know. Not because of what you just described, but because the people need to see that anyone from anywhere can strive for greatness and achieve it." She replied simply.

Katarina let out a sigh. "Fine. You set up camp here. I’ll go into that city alone and find out what we need. By myself. I’ll be back eventually."

Armilla opened her mouth and Katarina shook her head. "If you don’t like it, don’t be here when I get back. I’m here to work. You want to trumpet my name around, do it on your own."

Katarina pulled her pack off of Marcela’s back and shouldered it, and then began disassembling her saddle.

"You can hunt and fish here, Marcela." Katarina encouraged. "Try not to wander too far, though."

"I can’t really learn as your apprentice if I’m to stay here, Katarina." Armilla griped.

"You gonna work, or you gonna trumpet my name in the streets?" Katarina asked without looking at the smaller woman.

"I’ll work."

"Great. Set up camp, and then you can come along." Katarina replied, checking her bearings and heading north towards Landeck.

"There’s at least a mile or more of forest between here and that town, Katarina!" Armilla complained.

"Good practice for your tracking skills." Katarina called back casually with a wave.

Armilla ground her teeth with frustration and began setting up camp. Thankfully it didn’t take long; their camp consisted of a couple of leather sheets, a pair of bedrolls and a firepit. She adjusted her sword, shouldered her shield, and holstered her gun, and followed after Katarina’s trail.

It wasn’t long before she lost the trail. Katarina’s footprints seemed to arbitrarily vanish. Armilla growled in frustration, backtracked, and examined Katarina’s trail closer, moving much more slowly this time. No doubt about it; the Witch Hunter's tracks apparently stopped mid-stride. Suddenly Armilla glanced up into the branches of the trees overhead.

"Not a bad guess, I suppose." Katarina answered behind her, freezing her in her tracks. "I’m pretty sure that I could jump up and grab one of those branches." She mused. "Still, it’s not just my footsteps you should be following." She encouraged. "Look at the shape of the prints. If I’d’ve jumped, then the shape of the footprint would have changed. Instead, I walked backwards." She pointed at the footprint. "You can see the pressure change in the dirt- your prints look like that when you walk backwards."

Armilla let out a sigh and nodded. "I’ll pay more attention." She answered, and Katarina nodded. "Good. There will be more lessons." She replied.

They trekked through the forest in silence for a while, moving around the hills and crags of rock.

"Would you like some advice, Katarina?" Armilla asked curiously as they traveled, after a while.

Katarina laughed. "My apprentice thinks to educate me?" She mocked sardonically and then glanced back. "By all means, Apprentice, advise me."

There was a long silence, and then Armilla spoke up. "When we think of our loved ones.... We always remember the last time we saw them." She started in a low voice. "You could have told her you loved her, or given her a hug, a kiss and a smile, or, you know, something- anything, really- that reminded her how you felt about her, before you left."

Katarina raised an eyebrow. She hadn't expected that. "You’re probably right." She replied finally. "I couldn’t think of anything to say, though."

Armilla nodded at that, and they continued moving through the forest, towards the city.

When they emerged from the forest, Katarina made for the city with a ground-eating pace, forcing Armilla to struggle to keep up. The day was hot, but the air was dry and sharp with the bite of cold blowing down from the mountains at World’s End.

"Who should we ask?" Armilla asked, sweating in her armor.

"We’ll have a brief stop at the church here." Katarina replied casually. "They’re the most likely to have a map and a general understanding of the comings and goings of people in the city."

Armilla nodded. "Shouldn’t take too long, either." She replied. Katarina nodded in reply. "Just so. And remember your promise." She reminded.

The Church was tall and square in the Nauders style, with broad flat angles and a peaked roof. The church itself seemed to be its own castle, with bulbous, curving walls surrounding the square building.

Once inside the walls, Katarina was approached by a trio of acolytes. "We should have landed Marcela here and watched these kids shit themselves." She joked to Armilla in a low voice, who clamped her mouth shut tightly.

"What sort of business do you bring within these walls?" They asked, eyeing their weapons distastefully.

Katarina gestured imperiously at Armilla. "Your job, Apprentice." She hissed, and Armilla sighed.

"This is Her Radiance Katarina Pavlenko, Blessed Saint and Witch Hunter in service to the Golden lady." She announced, earning a hot glare from Katarina in response. "My name is Armilla Chancy, her apprentice." She added. "We seek a brief audience with your Priestess." She finished.

The trio glanced amongst themselves. "We will need to confirm your Writ." One of them announced, and the trio nodded. Katarina handed over her scrollcase and the trio examined the documents and discussed the contents in hushed voices. Katarina, with her boosted hearing, could hear their confusion- if a new Living Saint had been announced, wouldn’t Darnell have sent word? They couldn’t handle this on their own; the two women should be brought before the Cardinal Priestess.

"At once, Your Grace." They replied, turning to Katarina and Armilla. "This way, if it pleases you, Your Grace."

Katarina grit her teeth. She should have expected Armilla to ruin things.