“By the blessings of mighty Astralis from the heavenly courts and the wise words of the witans. Acknowledge now the rite of kings, to bear the flame that carries forth our peoples to a glorious future. To give your life for our freedom, our prosperity and our protection. Stand tall now as the rightful ruler of the pride. Stand tall now as the leader of a united people. Stand tall for Melton. Arise now, and may your roar echo in eternity.”

- Arch Magi Gaius Sylvestrus, Court Magi and Advisor, Coronation of High King Edward Meltius “The Gallant” of Melton.

Sophie looked up at the statue and sighed, the wooden bench wasn’t uncomfortable but serviceable was the best she would give it. Like a good maid, she had taken her charge back to their room. But with every step Annalise grew heavier and heavier, looking more exhausted than ever. After helping her friend undress into something more suitable, the older girl laid down on the bed and promptly fell asleep.

It was perhaps the suddenness of how quickly she needed to rest that gave Sophie the most worry, the idea of Annalise now suffering even more scared her. Yet, the more time she spent inside the tavern the more fidgety Sophie got and she borrowed a few coins from Annalise’s purse to order a rabbit pot pie and spiced honey wine. As she had often done when Eva was throwing a tantrum or otherwise indisposed in bed, she pulled the table in their rectangular room over while pushing her own bed further away to better arrange the meal for Annalise. After that Sophie tucked Anna in and made sure she had no fever or other immediately visible illness. Satisfied, she had then folded her friend’s clothes, prepared a new set, and organised their few belongings before she headed out with what little she had. Everything a maid is supposed to do, though I didn’t forget anything right?

Fidgeting with the three large copper coins in her hand she leaned down into the bench and sighed, this was one debt she would have to repay. She had taken two silver’s worth, spent one on food and drink as well as ensuring a barmaid would keep their room undisturbed, and most of the second on keeping the barkeep’s discretion as she eyed the bard still performing in the tavern. Having felt his unfriendly gaze whenever his eyes swept the room, she eventually headed outside for some space and hopefully to find a way to repay Annalise. She then grew hungry and bought some jerky after awkwardly pointing at various foods before the increasingly irate vendor tried to hurry her along.

Afraid of making a commotion, she quickly bought what food she wanted and scurried away with three coins left when she had calculated she should have four. Displeased, she huffed and sat herself down on the bench in the town square and nibbled away. Though the people around her paid her no mind, she still wished she had a book or some texts in front of her, an easy way for her to escape the crowds and noise when she was alone. Her mind drifted to the dinners or gatherings when Eva was bogged down by parents or functions, leaving Sophie in her room curled up with a book to read. It was a fond memory and Sophie found herself smiling warmly until her eyes focused on another of the creepy effigies. Something tingled down her spine and she quickly hopped up from the bench and headed towards the town hall.

A day and a half to quickly repay this debt, can’t owe Anna anything she’s struggling enough, Sophie mused to herself. Both Annalise and Taurox had made it clear enough that the relative mediocrity and unimportance of the town meant that it did not elicit many guild branches here. But she knew that most small towns or villages likely had their own job boards near the town hall on the off chance adventurers visit or some bored soul had nothing better to do. Like me I suppose.

Thankfully the town of Harweald was small but still possessed the wherewithal to have a few street sighs. Even if the Meltish dialect was a bit more butchered than their Carrdorian or Arterian counterparts, Sophie was still able to piece together what was needed to find the town hall. To her surprise when she followed the instructions, it turned out the large stone building was not the town hall but rather a small building that looked like three cabins strapped together behind it was. Sure enough, there near the entrance, was a small signboard with gibberish scrawled all over it.

Ignoring anything that said kill, eliminate, steal, avenge, dispatch, patrol, defend, pest control, which was almost the whole board, her eyes honed in on two separate requests. Help collect twenty Witchblooms or package delivery? I could do these yeah and woah, fifty cooper for the first and only twenty for the second? Sophie’s eyes lit up in excitement and her hand grasped the dry almost brittle flier before reality smacked her straight in the face. The hells a Witchbloom and won’t I have to go out of town? Weighing out her chances of finding some random herb or flower in the forest let alone twenty of them into a score of low to abysmal, she reluctantly reached for the other flier. Packages are easy enough I guess, she sighed, but where’s Godfrey’s Emporium?

Taking the second flier she briefly considered just asking someone but figured this was her chance to explore the town a little before their minders arrived. With a small wellspring of determination flowing throughout her, she began wandering the town proper, trying her best to not get lost.

Along the way she found more of the strange effigies all of which seemed to eerily stare out into the street like some demented goblin. More cabin-like structures dotted the streets but some with obvious stonework done on the outside to indicate a wealthier townsperson as she trudged deeper into Harweald. Yet it didn’t take long for Sophie to stumble upon the somewhat ramshackle but still exotic looking cabin. Colourful fabrics and hides decorating the outside of a small house with the words emporium scrawled haphazardly on a little wooden post. No toothy little stablehand greeted her and with a grunt she subdued her own reservations and proceeded inside.

Inside the somewhat dingy shop was a counter with all sorts of strange knick knacks laid out on display as numerous other cases dotted the shop with items of their own. A small jingle from the door chimes signaled her arrival and a scrawny but well groomed man sporting simple peasants tunic hastily ran out of a back room as he threw on an almost pee coloured robe.

“How err how may I help you dearest customer?” He hastily greeted her, almost tripping over a pile of stuff.

Concerned, Sophie leaned over the counter as the man brushed himself off, ready to help him when she spotted the briefest flash of what looked like a purple fabric being stuffed deeper into the pile. Worried, she almost reached over when the man finally straightened himself out and looked at her expectantly.

I must be hallucinating, she blinked a few times before lifting up the flier for the man to read. His expression slowly shifted from one of joy to concentration to confusion in but a matter of seconds. His eyes seemed to linger on the paper for quite a while before he nodded to himself like he had just figured something out.

“Right, thank you for accepting my request. Just wait here for a moment, I’m pretty sure I have it in storage.” The man smiled cheekily and headed back into the room he emerged from.

Sophie felt uncomfortable, that troubling sensation bugging her gut once again. Something’s not right here and that fabric…keeping an eye on the door she quickly walked behind the counter and prodded the pile of stuff with her boot. The small movement unveiling the edge of a fabric robe before the sounds in the backroom grew softer and she dashed back around the counter. Damn, they look like cult robes, how are they here so fast and do they already know our plans? She glanced around in a panic.

The man reemerged carrying a small box the size of his head and looked almost surprised by how light it was. Plopping it on the counter he stared at it curiously before looking back at her and smiling.

“Well, here you go. Take it to the Hamil’s farmstead just outta town. It’s a tad north from the east gatehouse. You can’t miss it!” He beamed happily and Sophie felt doubt descend upon her. Maybe the cultist sold his robe and he just happened upon it? Also outside of the town? Shit.

“Anything else?” The man queried at her silence and she quickly shook her head and grabbed the crate, her heart pounding as he leaned in.

“I like you strong silent types, just keep it that way and we’ll all get paid well aye?” He whispered and dipped his head at her.

Nervously, Sophie nodded and walked back out. Shit that was close, but was he a part of the cult? Do I let Anna know? What about this package? Would it be more suspicious if I don’t deliver it? But it’s outside the gates anyways so how do I get back in? Shit shit.

In the midst of her panicked wandering she stole a single solitary glance at a rabbit effigy and watched as it seemingly watched her back. The moment however, was quickly lost, and she noticed something went wrong when her vision turned from fragile wood to the orange red sky above as she slipped and lost her footing. She could feel her hands grow empty followed by the sickening cracking of wood on road as splinters shot everywhere. Then the flash of pain that generally occurred when one’s head smacks into the street.

“Fuck!” She yelped from the pain as she cradled her head, her hood flopping to the ground in a mess.

Recovering quickly, she threw the hood back on and looked around, hoping that whatever fell out of the box captured more attention than her but it was too late. She could feel the piercing judgemental stares, the silent condemnation of the townsfolk and froze. But what really caught her eye here was the lack of things around her. She didn’t know what to do, scattered on the ground was a grand total of nothing but splinters. The box had been empty. But then why would he need me to deliver it? Unless…I was a sacrifice or he isn’t Godfrey. Both possibilities made her shudder from the thought and as she sat on the ground she felt two pairs of hands grab her shoulders.

Stunned, she simply let them lift her up, an arrest? The cult? She barely squired as they dragged her off into a nearby alleyway. An armoured man, his leather piece also dyed midnight, similar to Inquisitor von Krantz but with a badge of silver barely tucked away and a helmet over his face held her from the left. To her right a much smaller figure around her height but also in black leather and with a stout little pilgrim hat carried her, a frustrated scowl etched on the girl’s face. And when her gaze finally met the scowling inquisitor, Sophie’s eyes widened and all rational thought ceased.

They slammed her against a wall before forcing her down onto a chair and tying her hands. The rough material of the robe burning her wrists as they tightened the knot. Sophie for her part was still in shock, so often in the past month she found that the things that haunted her nightmares had come to life. Or rather that they had always been alive and they have just made themselves known.

In front of her stood the scowling inquisitor, her dirty blonde hair tied up in a braided bun as she glared at Sophie with bright blue eyes. A scar cut vertically just past her right eye down her sharp heart like face. Thin lips curled in an upturned scowl as an almost vanilla scent tickled Sophie’s nostrils when the girl got closer.

“We’ve got you now so don’t even try to lie. Tell us what the hells Godfrey’s up to and who you’re supposed to meet” The girl growled, “You heretics deserve nothing but fires of damnation. But if you talk we’ll make it painless.”

“You…” Sophie stammered back with wide eyes.

She knew her but the girl didn’t know Sophie. Yet, she could see it so clearly from her memories, the horror, the fires and the death that blanketed the town. The devastation was so brutal that only the sounds of the dying echoed in her memories. But when she looked on she remembered. Remembered kicking down the church doors, how the figures in her nightmares cut down the townsfolk in an orgy of violence. How when the slaughter ended, the monster whose eyes she watched from met another pair hidden under the rubble. A small horrified little blonde, bright blue eyes staring back and blood oozing from a wound from her face. A mixture of hatred, sorrow and contempt on her little face. The same face Sophie could see right now.

“Talk. We’ll bag Godfrey later so there’s no use hiding.” The girl pulled out a knife and held it dangerously close to her throat.

Sophie continued staring until she felt the slight pain from the steel pricking her neck, unconsciously breaking out into a small whimper.

“Well?” The girl growled with a fury in her eyes, patience quickly vanishing.

“It’s you…” Sophie unknowingly stammered and the girl just stared at her funny.

“Me?”

“I-I know you.”

The two interrogators took a step back and looked at each other before the other man held the hilt of his sword. The girl gave him a knowing nod before turning back to Sophie.

“Talk.” She hissed.

Sophie gulped down a small pained breath and looked at the girl more thoroughly, though in her nightmares her hair had been longer and fluffier, she was certain.

“Talk!” The girl shouted and Sophie tried nodding, the steel of the blade chilling her neck.

“The church…umm the town church…I’ve seen you under the rubble…” Sophie blurted out.

“What the hells are you talking about?” The girl reacted with confusion more than anything.

“The rubble in the church. When the monsters came… you were there… under it all.” Sophie paused to gauge the girl’s reaction. Her battle worn face scrunching in shock and anger in equal measures causing Sophie to continue before she could recover. “The last one…the monster killed a priest…it looked at you, it could see you and it let you go. Everyone else…”

“Died in the attack…” The girl whispered before her features twisted into a vicious snarl, throwing the knife aside and launching herself at Sophie in a fury. “And who the hells are you?” She growled menacingly as she wrapped her gloved hands around Sophie’s neck.

“I-I…” Sophie choked out.

“Who are you and how do you know all this!” The girl screamed.

“I…ugh…dreams…” Sophie rasped.

The girl continued pushing her hands around her neck until the man behind her laid his own on his colleague’s shoulder. “Enough.” He spoke softly.

Sophie felt the hands slowly loosen around her neck and gasped for breath, a trickle of blood from the cut running down her neck as the sides began bruising.

“I…nightmares…ugh…” She groaned.

The girl backed off in a silent fury, staring right at Sophie’s pained form. The man stepped forward, a gentle tap on the girl’s shoulder before he knelt in front of Sophie. Taking advantage of the moment she looked around her, wooden walls and a log roof indicated that at the very least they were still in Harweald. The dilapidated nature of the cabin however suggested something more secluded away and ill maintained.

“So, perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. For that you have my apologies. But you seem to possess knowledge we are not aware of and therefore speak if you wish to live.” He said matter of factly, his smooth voice giving off an air of hostile reassurance. His dark brown eyes behind the slit in his helm crinkled slightly as if displeased.

Hacking out a small cough, Sophie steadied herself and tried to focus before she continued. “I saw her in…in the visions, the nightmares.” She paused and assessed the two, the man’s expression unreadable behind his helm and the girl frowning even more, “From the…the tower I could see the town. It burned and the monsters…they roamed the streets…the skies…everywhere. Then I remember seeing the church doors, it breaking and the priest…his sword? It was glowing and then they all died…” She paused the memories flooding back unpleasantly, the screams, the creatures, and the blood, it all made her stomach churn. “Then you were down under the rubble.” She looked back up at the girl, who only stared back in disgust.

The man leaned back as if to take in the new information and turned to his colleague for confirmation. She shrugged in return but nodded somberly before staring at Sophie no more disgust in her eyes, but hatred.

“Worse than heretics…” The girl muttered, “Demon.” Sophie watched in horror as the inquisitor pulled out her dagger and the man moved away to let her strike. Shit! She’s actually going to kill me!

“Wait! Wait!” She blurted out her pleas to deaf ears, the girl growing closer. Uhhh…uhh…Viktor! “Krantz! Von Krantz sent me!”

There it was, the magic word, her stay of execution as the girl froze in her tracks and the blade a mere breath away from her chest. To their credit, the man seemed equally surprised by how he tilted his head in an attempt to comprehend her babbling.

“Inquisitor von Krantz sent me, no us, sent us here to meet with minders. Blademaster Taurox, big guy, he’s at the church right now.”

Her two captors shared a glance at each other before turning ever so slowly back to her.

“Was wondering what a bloody Minoran was doing here, turns out wasn’t a fucking Minoran after all.” The man grumbled and gestured to the girl.

With fury still radiating from her veins, the girl moved behind her and Sophie could feel the rope around her wrist fall away.

“I’m not done with you yet, demon.” The girl whispered as she passed by, sending another shiver down Sophie’s spine.

“So, us? You mentioned us so there are more of you? And Taurox too. I assume that means you’re actually here to meet with minders.” The man queried, a noticeable annoyance tinged his voice, “And you are from Carrador?”

Sophie nodded and massaged her wrists, the bindings having done quite a number on her skin. It was only partway through a small silence that she and the others took note of the small cut on her neck, an irritating cut that she could block out but the trickle of blood was unavoidable for the others looking at her.

With a defeated sigh the man took off his helm and revealed the grizzled face of a veteran. Younger than Duke Rosengart but just as stubbled and groomed with an aura of power radiating around him.

“So you're the one we're supposed to meet,” He paused before pointing at a small sack in the corner, the other girl glaring as she went to retrieve it, “Introductions come later, for now we’ll patch you up but there’s a lot of explaining for you to do, so start from why the hells you walked willingly into a cultist’s shop and came out with a crate of something?” He asked accusatorially.

Sophie held back a whimper at how similar he looked when Duke Rosengart got angry. How she was always afraid that if she failed him the man would just break her in two with his bare hands. Yet despite the fear, she also felt a hint of relief wash through her. Not dead yet, she gingerly thought, but trouble found me all the same, but alive. With a slight pained sigh of her own, she recalled the series of events in her head and began speaking.

“So when we umm…when we got to the... tavern, there was this bard…”