Gelehrter wandered over to a desk, reaching for prepared parchment and ink. He scribbled fervently.

The expression resting on Arden's visage could only be exasperation.

“I am aware of the many questions you have--”

“Altering memories and using charm magic to gain information is illegal.” Arden growled.

“I understand how you feel--”

“This is wrong, Rena. How can being a Justicar allow for such things? This is...this is tampering with people's memories. Many cases were brought before the Sanguine Overlord—my mother—and the Council. They deemed it an injustice and condemned its practice.” The girl took a few steps away from her superior in terror and continued. “You should be arrested...I—I...I should arrest you!”

“You will do no such thing.” Gelehrter chimed in. “Justicar are bound by their ability to gather intelligence through any means. We are given free reign and our exploits are kept under wraps because it is in the Sanguine Overlord's interest.”

“We do what we must in order to survive and protect others with our information. If we succeed, more will live in the future. For the present there will be death, you can't hope to--”

“Duel me. If I win, I return to the Citadel with you both as prisoners. You will testify before the Council for practice of outlawed magics. If you win...I will continue with you and we will forget this whole incident.” Arden retrieved her short sword and faced Rena indignantly.

“A Justicar's duel is much different...has anyone ever told you that?” Gelehrter peered over his shoulder and addressed Arden matter-of-factually. “We fight as we would in the field. We prove a point to one another. You are free to spend your time however you wish...but I have never beaten Rena.”

Without warning, steel whirled about and caught Arden on the shoulder. The blow forced her to her knees and Rena rested the tip of her longsword on her nose.

Angrily she gripped her weapon and swung deftly, sparks flying as they were caught in a furious bout.

Rena caught Arden's shortsword against her bracer. She lunged and gripped her by the wrist. The shortsword tolled as it crashed against the ground and the tip of Rena's weapon pressed against Arden's abdomen.

Cold sweat beaded down the girl's face.

“You've died twice now.”

“H-How...?”

“I have learned much from my duels with other Justicar and my experiences on various missions. Remember this: if you continue to question my methods, whether legal or otherwise, it is sanctioned by the First Justicar's Principle. It states: 'Under command of our Holy Sanguine Overlord, law will not sheathe their weapons. Justicar will perform any magics, utilize any and all knowledge, for the good of Sanctuary's citizens. They are the Overlord's spear and the Overlord's listeners.' In the eyes of the Council—who have the Templarate under their command, might I add—outlawed this for fear of using such methods on them. Of course...Justicar have done such things but they were on very dire circumstances.” Rena released Arden from her grasp and sheathed her weapon. She strode silently to her bed to then gingerly remove the encumbrance of her hauberk, boots and other gear.

Rena then opened a tome from her pack and poured over its contents.

Gelehrter finished his document and sealed an envelope with wax. He quietly strode over to a nearby window and unlatched it. A snow owl rested onto his arm and he attached the letter to the bird gently. Before the owl departed, he whispered at length with the creature. The mighty bird vanished in a blur of white and he latched the window shut again.

“Come, you should study for a little while before it is time to retire.” Gelehrter suggested over his shoulder.

“Y-Yes...I should.”

* * *

The dawn brought warmth and a sense of security.

They had woken before light shone brilliantly over the kingdom of Burm. The coals of the blaze emitted brought some comfort against the cold.

“I've brought these with me...as new Justicar, you are to become attuned with them. This is the Blessed Star of Sanctuary. It is the source of your new strength. As you grow accustomed to the draining effect, it will become more of a boon than a burden.” Rena extended a pair of the emblems. Gelehrter and Arden took them reluctantly. “Place them on your chest and it will bind to you.”

They obeyed. The sensation of millions of needles piercing deep into their skin took them as the emblem neared them. They winced as the emblems erupted into the protective spell, brilliant lapis lazuli pixel boxes dancing across their frames. Dark robes and metal appeared from thin air, their bodies experiencing an immense physical drain. In the next instant, they were restored to their normal clothes.

Rena spun on her heels and reached for her sword. She tied it to her belt as unlocked their chamber door. Several servants burst in the room immediately and they each extended a change of clothes for them.

“Please, Miss Arden and company, change into these garments the King carefully laid out for you. I hope it will be to your liking.” One of them moved to shut the door behind them and bolt it.

Gelehrter and Rena began to remove their clothing.

“Y-You... You're not embarrassed?” Arden exclaimed and covered her eyes.

“Genitalia is organically sewn to you. The odds of us all getting into a relationship of that kind from just seeing each other naked is foolhardy.” Gelehrter reached for the gambeson. The emblem of Sanctuary had been stitched gingerly into the cloth of the scarlet shirt, his woolen pants and simple leather boots fit his measurements exactly. He fixed the belt around his waist and tied his longsword to it.

The eldest Justicar pulled on a silk emerald gambeson, the hems and seams stitched with gold. Though she bore the emblem of Sanctuary, it seemed to only glisten when light was absorbed by the cloth. Woolen pants were pulled over her legs and simple leather boots adorned her feet. Small white gloves were fitted around her hands which were adorned with a bow. A couple servants aided her with tying her boots and the fastening of her blade to her hip. She hurriedly reached into her pack to retrieve the missive from Ovelia.

Though Arden had achieved pulling on her gambeson unabated, she was however helpless against the wave of servants who flocked to her side. From the tights to the boots, she had been beset with aid. The girl pouted and made no attempt to stop them. Arden and Rena were similar, though Arden's gambeson was sapphire.

One of the attendants reached for the opalescent sword and as her hand neared the scabbard, she writhed in agony. Flames burst from the handle and she was absconded from the room.

“Enchanted blade...Eisener's work, more like. Valtieri only does lifesap these days.” A servant blurted. “Miss Arden, if I may.”

“E-Erm...yes.”

“That thing is yours, yes? Please keep it away from the rest of us. We don't enjoy being toyed with by magical trinkets. It is a bad practice, as you are well aware.” He smiled and her eyes widened. The servant from the night before stood before her and she merely nodded as she pursed her lips. She hastily fastened her weapons to her waist.

They departed from their quarters with the escort of many attendants. Silence reigned over them and tension seemed to bubble about as their footsteps echoed through the dark hallways. Though the cold drifted through the windows and other orifices, the castle was warm and welcoming.

How would a servant know about Eisener and Valtieri? Rena pondered and brushed against her two colleague's minds with her own. Gelehrter readily accepted her while Arden's mind was muddled with her own worries.

Thalanil's throne had been carved from an immense oak tree which sprouted from within the chamber. Attendants and other personnel rushed about. They greeted the entourage with cakes, dried meats and other treats.

Pillars rose high above to support the gargantuan ceiling. A mural depicted the rise and fall of Ernald and Eloise. The stories of many other Mortem who were placed onto Sanctuary to lead the people into prosperity.

Standing on Thalanil's right was Accalia. The elfin Mortem glowered at them dubiously as they kneeled before the throne. She wore a simple white gown and her feet remained bare. The platinum locks flowed brilliantly from her head to her lower back. She towered over even Thalanil.

All but his warriors absconded from the expanse.

The King of Burm rose to address them. “I understand you have a letter for me, Rena.”

She held the missive aloft. A knight approached nearby and handed it to the king. His cheery expression soured as he read the letter. He handed it to Accalia and she raised an eyebrow at its contents.

“Our Sanguine Overlord has some expectations for you three.” Accalia commented. “I have not met her since she descended—I am sure the lot of you understand that Mortem are not born. They are placed onto the world. The strength, the intelligence and other means are what forged us into such formidable beings.”

Arden felt her gaze focus onto her.

“A tall order from the Overlord.” Thalanil pondered for a moment.

“I intend to fulfill all of her wishes, my liege.” Rena spoke confidently. “Should I not, I will arrive here under cover of darkness to eradicate you. Such are my orders.”

“I allow you into my home with open arms and you repay me with such disrespect?” Thalanil growled.

Knights from all directions shifted their hands to their weapons uneasily.

“It is the Justicar way. Ovelia has spoken and her word is law. I am her spear when there are those who wish to disobey. I do not need my compatriots here to destroy you and enact martial law. I will have the defense matrix online and I will see to it that your kingdom of Burm is set under more competent leadership. She has allowed you to thrive here and received news of a malfunctioning turret system.” Rena stood upright defiantly. “That is all.”

Silence pervaded through the antechamber. Truth pierced through them—the knights, their King and Royal Vizier, tried in vain to grasp the severity of her threat. Though it was recited from Ovelia verbatim, Rena seemed poise to strike.

A knight rushed from his place. His steel melted into her hands by magic from Rena's palms. She reached forward and slugged him in the sternum, magic still enveloping her hands. A gut wrenching crack echoed as he crumbled to the ground. His only saving grace was his breastplate which barely held against her focused blow.

Rena was beset by others who tried to best her. Thalanil watched as other knights were incapacitated by her magic infused strikes. Quick and efficient. She fights dishonorably, though with a stretch of mercy. Broken bones and weapons are what they will experience. My God...what...monsters.

“Draw your blade, Mortem!” Another knight bellowed. Arden turned to him and stood. She panicked and unsheathed the enchanted sword. With a brilliant white light, flames danced harmlessly through the air. The blaze cackled as it met the air, the cross guard blade soared through empty space. In her hands it seemed as if it bore no weight at all. The instant their weapons made contact, the opposing knight stepped back to avoid the blow. He felt the immense heat illuminate his sins, his body instinctively kneeling in reverence.

Mercy and prayer danced from his lips.

“How many more of your knights will fall before you accept her wishes, Thalanil?” Gelehrter also stood upright. He was beset by a pair of individuals whose blades met his gambeson. The instant the blades attempted to pierce the linen armor, his body was encased in the dark robes. The weapons shattered into millions of shards which disintegrated into dust.

“I-I...I...” The King stammered, cold sweat beading down his forehead.

Rena's gaze assaulted him with accusations. His sins bubbled from within and surfaced. Images of countless souls who were taken throughout his everlasting life. The horror caused him to grip his head in agony and wail.

“Y-Yes! Yes! Please, do not do anything more! I yield!” Thalanil staggered onto his throne, sweat pouring profusely from his pores. “Do not approach them! They are monsters—true monsters wearing the skin of humans!”

Gelehrter deactivated the protective magic and glanced from Rena to Arden. Their resolve held, though the drain from the demonstration would take its toll.