Mujahid said of that day that the sight of the approaching Templars was far more terrifying than the aschengeist ever was. The moment he laid eyes on those red crosses on white tabards, memories flooded back to the forefront of his mind. He could hear the screams again, and smell the smoke from the burning cities.

He was thankful to be wearing his plague doctor mask, under which they could not see that he was a moor.

The two Templars were nigh identical in their uniforms, their faces hidden behind steel visors. Only the slightest height difference gave away that these were two different men.

The Templars approached Mu and Shlomo as they directed the other doctors to pack up the medicines for the night and wrap up the day. Mu couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a hint of trembling in Shlomo's hands as the Templars drew near.

One of the Templars offered his hand to shake Mu's when he approached. "My good man," he said in a velvet voice, "young Giradin tells me that two doctors named Mu and Shlomo were the ones who've been trying to banish the ghost haunting Elekvaz. You two appear to be in charge, so I'm guessing you are they?"

"Aye," Mu said, trying to mask his accent. He shook the Templar's hand, noting the unusually firm grip the former crusader had. "I am Mu. This is Shlomo."

Shlomo tipped his hat. "How do you do."

"I am Sir Cristoff," said the velvet-voice Templar who shook Mu's hand. "And this is Sir Philip."

Sir Philip gave a nod of his head and said nothing.

"Shlomo is a Jewish name, yes?" said Sir Cristoff.

Shlomo nodded. "Indeed."

Mu wished he could read Sir Cristoff's face under that helmet to know if he harbored any judgment against Jews, but it was impossible to know.

"And, Mu... is that short for something?" asked Sir Cristoff.

Mu clasped his hands tightly together to prevent them from shaking. "No," he lied, masking his accent again. "My parents just had... an interesting sense of humor." He forced a smile, only afterward realizing how futile such an action was under a mask.

Sir Cristoff chuckled. "Well, it's good that we should have a sense of humor about ourselves, isn't that right? My name is Cristoff, which I suppose is the opposite of Crist-on?"

Mu gave a nervous laugh at the Templar's joke, though he found no humor in the poorly-constructed pun.

When the laughter, both feigned and otherwise, died down, Sir Cristoff said, "So, we need to work together to slay this aschengeist."

"What do you need us for?" asked Shlomo. "You two are the trained Templars. You fight evil spirits all the time. We're just doctors."

"According to what Giradin told us," said Sir Cristoff, "the aschengeist's attack have a pattern: it's after plague doctors and anything that reminds it of plague doctors. The pile of dead crows, the man in the black cloak, Giradin himself... all of this was clearly to attack people like you. That's why we need your help. To lure it out."

Mu snorted. "You intend to use us as bait?"

Sir Cristoff reached out and rested a heavy hand on Mu's shoulder. "Yes, I know that's a terrible thing to ask, but I wouldn't ask that of anyone who I thought couldn't fight back and survive. When Giradin spoke of your involvement in all of this, he seemed to have a high opinion of your abilities and your courage."

Mu shook his head. "Sure, I'm as brave as a lion, but a lion doesn't dangle himself in front of predators. A lion is brave specifically because he has no predators."

Sir Cristoff paused a moment, then reached up and lifted the helmet off. His head was shaven close to bald, with hints of black hair poking up. His face looked young, but on his right cheek were four scars like claw marks. A patch covered where his right eye used to be, and his left eye was a soft shade of blue. The gentle expression he gave was disarming, and Mu hated it.

"You want to talk about lions?" Sir Cristoff asked. "Then I'll tell you this; lions generally don't hunt. The male lions you see out hunting for themselves? Those are the ones banished from their prides, ones who will never mate and have to survive by bullying smaller, weaker animals. A lion in a pride protects the cubs while the lionesses hunt together. When working together, lionesses are so courageous they can take down any beast, no matter how big and fearsome that beast is." Sir Cristoff smiled at Mu. "You don't have the courage of a lion, Mu. Giradin would have never spoken so highly of you if you were a bully. No, you have the courage of a lioness. So, I ask you, will you help us trap and slay this fearsome beast? If not, I can find someone else, and you can stay here to look after the cubs."

Mu stammered for a moment, "I... I... that is..."

Sir Cristoff chuckled. "I understand if you're too afraid. Truly, I do. If that's the case, I'm sure we can find something else for you to do that would still help. But I think you have more courage than that. I believe I can rely on you for this. What say you, Mujahid?"