The old temple was made from hewn stone. Thick and quite tall stone pillars supported the roof high above. The oil lamp at the entrance meant she could search out for the passage. Behind one of the pillars, she found a small metal ring. Pulling the ring caused a small stone tile to come loose revealing a small tunnel she was just able to crawl through. She got into it and put the tile back in place behind her.

She crawled for a while through the darkness, crashing once into the wall at a turn. Soon she could see light in the end of the tunnel and as she drew closer, heard screams and shouting as well as machinery at work. A small hole was left in the wall in front of her after a brick had apparently fallen out. Whomever had done the masonry had done a bad job, and even left the hole in the wall. The sight though the hole almost caused her to scream. She was back in the torture chamber. Her memories threatened to overwhelm her senses. Nausea overcame her and only a desperate struggle kept the bile inside her body. Blood began to trickle down from her lip as she dug her teeth in to mitigate the overwhelming stimuli. Attempts at refocusing on the task at hand were simply met with memories all jumbled together, but carrying with them a sense of dread.

It took a while for her to regain enough control to reaffirm her dedication to the duty at hand. On shaky legs she began following along the wall until eventually she met another dead end. Feeling around in the darkness, she found a moveable part, and pushed it aside with great effort. It was a dusty storeroom. The crate was largely empty save for a few stacks of moldy blankets. Her head continued to hurt, but she got out and inched the storeroom door open to be met by a long corridor of many doors. Most were empty, but some sound could be heard from inside. The first door she tried, revealed a great many large barrels. The floor was covered in white powder which turned out to be salt. Out of one of the barrels, hung a limp, shriveled up arm. She took a deep breath and opened the small, sealed box mistress Ellistin had passed on to her. Inside was a small, precisely folded note. Upon opening it, she saw a set of symbols, wondering what it might mean. Puzzled, she kept her focus on the note, and not to the grizzly sight as best she could and went back out to the corridor. At the very back of the corridor, she saw the same line of symbols. She quickly headed for it when she heard movement from one of the doors behind her.

She made a dash for the door, which turned out to be open. She soon realized why.

Inside the room were three men. Two of them were soldiers bearing a marking she had never seen before. The last man looked like some noble, but she had no time to think.

“What’s…” Was all the man managed to utter, before she released three bolts from the mechanical vambrace. A moment later, the three men lay dead on the floor, a thin metal bolt stuck into each man’s head. one having gone almost completely through, the bloody tip sticking out of the nobleman’s forehead. She quickly shut the door behind her and was about to take care of the bodies, when she realized she was not alone in the room. On the stone slab which the three men had fallen around, laid a body, a young man she judged to be about the same age as Rein. Torn, dirty, the left leg a minced stump just above the knee, wound in dirty bandages. The torso was in no better condition, visibly broken, pieces of smashed ribs poking out of the chest, leaking puss and flesh infected.

“… Water…” A weak voice came from between torn lips.

“Who... Are you?” She felt no need to raise a weapon, but her gut told her to be cautious regardless.

“Water… Please.”

She looked around, and found a small canteen in the belt of one of the soldiers. After pulling the cork she poured small drops into the young man’s mouth. It did not seem to help him in any way however.

“On… Your arm. I know the design.” The man coughed weakly. “My name… Erinual… Remember me…”

“Are you the asset I was sent here for?” She asked, but received no reply to her question. Instead, Erinual reached out for the table nearby.

“On the table… Take the buttons back. And… kill me… Please.”

“But why?”

“… I will die soon… But let me… Die now.”

She nodded, and drew her dagger, hovering it over his heart. His weak, shriveled hand reached up, and closed around her own. With what remained of his strength, he pushed the dagger in, grunted as the dagger pierced him, and fell silent. Alone on the room, she pulled the dagger free and wiped it clean on one of the dead guards. On the small table laid a wool shirt and sewn onto it were three sooty buttons. Once pried away from the shirt, the backside of the buttons revealed they were made of metal, seemingly silver. Before she could do anything else, she heard footsteps in the corridor outside, this time armored boots were approaching. She climbed in behind the door, and waited for it to open.

The door opened and what had been calm steps turned into frantic running and shouts for reinforcements. She could see the shadow of one guard coming through the doorway. The guard had weapons at the ready, but approached the bodies on the floor first. She saw her chance and a few seconds later, the guard was on the floor, blood gushing from a slit in his throat. She hurried out into the corridor, and all the terrified screaming from earlier had subsided, replaced by the sound of metal against cold stone. She could already see the helmets as she threw herself into the way she came in, jumped into the crate, and crawled as fast as she could.