“Hold him down, he’s gone mad!” The centurion hardly had the situation under control when we arrived. I understood at once what had happened, but Lord Raymi caused a great storm of shouting, which did nothing but make the captured fishermen more fearful and prone to fleeing.

Three men lay dead in the street, blood covering the ground. One of the Vassish men had been tackled to the ground. Butts of spears drove into his limbs, and one particularly brave soldier laid atop him to fight his thrashing. “Get ahold of yourself. What are you doing, man?”

Aisha understood as quick as I did, and she stepped forward. “Was that man stabbed in the fight?”

Raymi glared at her, then at the guards. The centurion saluted and said, “It was a small scuffle sir. These men began pushing and shouting when we locked the harbor down. It was a ruse; they drew steel on us. We have the situation under control.”

“It doesn’t look under control to me. What has become of this man?” Raymi asked.

The centurion scowled. “I think he was poisoned in some manner. He took a stab to the gut and fell, but got back up and attacked us.”

I paced around the back of the soldiers, stroking my beard and pacing the streets and alleys that surrounded the harbor like so many strings in a web. Dozens of civilians watched with their worries plain on their faces. I was the only one present with the freedom to concern myself with the onlookers.

Aisha straightened herself up and faced the restrained soldier. “So this soldier was stabbed, and then began attacking his allies?”

“What are you doing, Aisha?” the restrained soldier asked, bloodshot eyes staring at her. The men holding him down all had to shift and press harder, pinning his straining limbs. “Why did you flee to the Vassish?”

“Self-preservation,” she said, doing wonders to keep her voice calm as she looked down at the spirit of her brother. “And because what you’re doing is wrong, and won’t succeed.”

Medorosa laughed, the heaving of his chest almost enough to knock free his grappler. “So you don’t trust me? You don’t believe in me? The time of Vassish occupation is over, sister.”

“Medorosa Canta,” Raymi said, taking a knee beside him. “Is that you?”

Medorosa’s puppet grinned, teeth stained red. “We meet again, Raymi. Not quite in the flesh.”

“I thought you died.”

“You left me to die. You prioritized your ley over my life. You don’t have the right, nor the virtue to rule Giordana.”

Lord Felix von Raymi frowned and stood back up. He planted one thick hand on the handle of his sword and asked, “Is there any diplomatic resolution to this?”

Medorosa cackled once more. “Asking is proof that we can capture Rackvidd from you, that we can cast you Vassish out, and you know it. Your walls will fall, Raymi. Your time is at an end.”

“Get off of him,” Raymi said, and gestured to make the soldiers realize he was serious. With some trepidation, they braced themselves and leapt away.

Medorosa pushed himself up to hands and knees. “Fighting me won’t change any-”

His head flew from his shoulder, tumbling end over end with a ribbon of blood behind it. The words from Medorosa’s lips vanished before his head hit the ground and rolled away. Raymi grimaced, holding the drawing strike at full extension. “Girl,” he said, slowly returning his blade to its sheathe. “Does killing him like that do any form of recoil to him? Will he be disabled for a time?”

Aisha bit her lip and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. A bit of disorientation at most. I’m sorry, I don’t know any weakness of his, but I never spent much time with him fighting.”

I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. “A few of the troublemakers escaped into the city, didn’t they?”

The centurion’s face colored. “Three of them, yes.”

“I think you can give up the quarantine, Lord Raymi. Medorosa is already inside. You have a saboteur who never even needs to show his face, so long as he’s comfortable killing. Given that attitude, I imagine he will be butchering any Vassish he gets his hands on.”

Raymi gritted his teeth and stared out to the sea, where a dozen Cynizia ships could be seen. “These fucking savages. Bring me the priestess, at once. I want Medorosa’s head on a spike.”

“Would that be the Saphiran(1) priestess or the Shepherd’s?” I ventured to ask.

Raymi fixed me with a most curious glare, unaffected by the arcane impression of my eyes. “Of the sun god, Lumios.”

This surprised me a great deal. With a scarf over most of my face though, my expression remained confidential. Rather than say something imprudent and impatient, I bided my time for this priestess. Raymi marched the group to a bit of privacy near the harbor and questioned Aisha as thoroughly as an inquisitor. All he lacked were the persuasion tools, but the redhead held nothing back.

Not about Medorosa anyways.

Eventually, a robed woman on in her years, though still able to stride across the road, came to our little gathering. Aisha had said nothing not previously transcribed, and so I might take this moment to comment on Priestess Mori. At first, her robe seemed modest, but the white linen revealed itself to have a tapestry of golden thread embroidered into it, so fine and delicate as to make it glow with the day’s light. I had heard of certain abbots using needlework in solitude as a form of meditation, though also to make ends meet, and she must surely have trained in the art a great deal. Sadly, the color had faded from her hair, and her face had taken on a school mistress’s scowl.

“What is it, Felix?” she asked, and gripped tight the chain holding her censor. A small, bronze thing that could have been mistaken for a bell.

Raymi straightened up and bowed his head a fraction to her. “Sister Mori. I need you to track down a criminal who has used a stigmata.”

She sighed and looked around. When she caught sight of the decapitated head, she caught herself and retreated a step. “A killer then?”

Raymi grimaced. “Unfortunately. I of course will assign you a group of guards. The city is under siege, or at least it will be soon. I need you to find the ringleader.”

Sister Mori shook her head and sighed. “I always strive to help people understand their blessings, and this is how you use an old woman like me?”

“Can you find him? The man used his stigmata on my soldier. I hope there is yet some vestige.”

“And what will you do with him, if I do find him?”

Aisha cut in. “Please. He has to be stopped. For not just the people of Rackvidd, but all of Giordana.”

Sister Mori cocked an eyebrow at her. The way her lip curled; she wasn’t impressed. “And who are you?”

Aisha gritted her teeth reflexively, but she answered, “His sister. I know better than anyone here what he’s capable of. Please, if you can help us capture him, then you must.”

Sister Mori drew herself up, arching her head back to sneer down at her. “I must do nothing but what my faith to Lumios demands of me. The sun god preaches temperance, not leaping to action.”

“He also teaches the importance of stability, of keeping the peace, even if it is at the point of a sword,” Raymi said. “Besides, my patronage to your church can’t continue if the city is ransacked. Would you rather have Giordanan masters?”

She sniffed. “I suppose not.” Reservations aside, she moved over to the body. I watched her most closely. She knelt next to the head and busied herself with the censor, striking a flame to the herb within to draw out a trickle of smoke. After a short prayer, though I don’t know what the sun god could have done for her, she rose and dangled the smoking, brass egg before her. “He should be easy enough to–”

The ashen line pointed due west, as though caught in a trade wind. The smoke didn’t rise vertically until several strides away. Needless to say, I was impressed with her ability, even if she seemed shocked herself.

“I’ve never seen a reaction this strong before. He must be no ordinary–” again she cut off, for after two steps back towards Raymi, the smoke had an entirely new direction, roughly to the north west.

The trick revealed itself to me at once. “You have the stigmata God’s Wind, don’t you?”

Sister Mori turned to me, from which the smoke steadfastly fled. No matter how she held the censor, the smoke billowed directly from the spot I stood. Her stern glare belied fear. I could see it in her eyes. A most regrettable reaction. “Who are you?”

I bowed. “I see I must take my leave then. Lord Raymi, if you would permit me to return to the battery? I will be of more use there. At present, I’m quite interfering with her work.”

A pair of trusted guards were dispatched with me, and saw me off to the city bulwark. I had no plans of rebelling against the Vassish, but I could see it made Raymi feel better. That left Aisha alone. When Sister Mori’s ability began to function properly, the smoke merely drifted in a suggestion towards Medorosa’s location. “Let me come with you,” Aisha said. “Once you get to the place he’s at, you still need someone who can recognize his face.”

Raymi nodded. “You there, squad leader Oscar. You’re in charge of apprehending Medorosa Canta. See it done,” he ordered, and at last, a hunter had been assigned for the rebel leader of the Cynizia.

“Thank you. I will not disappoint,” Oscar said, saluting and bowing to Lord Raymi. Then, he gathered up his men, surrounded Aisha, and followed behind Sister Mori.

1. Name updated from Aquaria.