Adelbern had grown weary of all the travel he was forced to do. He was used to delivering messages or participating in small-scale raids, but ever since the Absolver had concocted his plan to seemingly uncover the secrets behind Stigma’s existence – the length of those journeys had gotten longer and longer. He was now regularly asked to travel across national borders for jobs that would have been much better served in bulk. Each individual delivery of a stolen cursed artefact could take weeks. After laundering the last item to one Derian Rivers, he was immediately forced to return to the nearest safehouse to retrieve the next.

The Absolver could not safely remove several artefacts at once, and hiding them somewhere else posed a set of risks that he wasn’t willing to take. It all depended on how quickly Kageyama could find and consume them. The fact that nobody had seen fit to inspect the collection yet continued to mystify. Were they really this relaxed when it came to their security, to lock it in a vault and presume that it can never be stolen?

That seemed to be the case. The Absolver’s authority would never be questioned openly like that. All of the sabre rattling from the militant wing never pointed the finger directly at him. He could stab a man to death in the middle of the grand hall and receive no admonishment for it. “I miss phones,” he opined to himself. A phone would do wonders. Instant communication over a long distance would make his life so much easier. They always had to act under the assumption that things would work out on Ren’s end, and plan for what would happen if they didn’t.

The security around Blackwake had grown more intense since Forester’s death. The general public were under constant surveillance; completely unnecessary – especially now that the worst possible outcome had occurred. It only served to slow traffic through the main gates. Wearing his expensive Inquisitor armour was more effective as a gate-pass than as anything else. He received his fair share of attention weaving through the streets to reach the house in question.

Walking into the main living area, he breathed a sigh of relief. Being in such a densely populated area always put him on edge. This was where other Inquisitors could make his life harder, not the outskirts of their jurisdiction where he could ditch the armour and work as he pleased. He didn’t notice that there was something else in the room until he hung up his cape and collar.

“Scheiße, you scared the hell out of me!”

The woman sitting by the fire laughed, “Did I? What does that even mean? You keep saying it.”

Adelbern did not find it as amusing; “What do you think it means?”

“I think it’s a very naughty word. Am I going to have to get the Absolver to wash your mouth with soap?”

“He doesn’t have time to be a surrogate parent, Esther.”

“Is that so? I don’t see why, considering how often he has you and Jarvis running around doing his chores. You just got back from another one. He’s working you like a damned mule.”

Adelbern ignored her jibes and continued with his business. He had a day to rest before the next objective beckoned. Safehouses like these provided a brief respite for the agents of the Inquisition who couldn’t sleep in the batteries with everyone else. Some considered it a privilege afforded to the elite, but it instilled nothing but paranoia in Adel. One of his old compatriots had been killed in a home invasion. There was no one around to back him up or scare away the culprit.

Esther continued to speak to her new captive audience regardless; “I heard that John came back to the fort looking like he’d been in the wars, and he had two broken arms.”

“Did he?”

She pointed at his back, “Yeah – and one of them attested that you were the person who saved his arse when things were looking dour. So don’t do that cute little ignorant act with me, everyone from here to Delany knows about it. Bet you hung him out to dry just long enough to save him, get a nice favour in your back pocket.”

Adelbern selectively ignored the key accusation, “John is the last person I want to have a favour owed from. If you think that years of enmity will vanish because of me doing the bare minimum, you are sorely mistaken. He’d sooner eat dogshit than deal with me.”

“Did you?” Esther asked again, “You’re not above dirty tricks like that.”

“I warned him about how foolish his plan was – as the Absolver asked. It is not my responsibility if he then follows through with it and is injured for the effort. Everything that happened here was wrought by his own hands. He could have turned back at any time.”

“That’s not how he sees it.”

“I know, but there is nothing he can do about it now.”

“He’s cursing your name to the rafters and the gods above,” she pressed.

Adel laid his sword against the wall and grumbled, “John knows better than to press the issue right now. His word isn’t worth the air used to speak it. Accusing a singular agent like myself of sabotage would be seen as immensely petty as a man of his station.”

From top to bottom the Inquisition always placed a strong emphasis on responsibility. High ranking members were expected to act in accordance with the order’s laws and regulations. Experience demanded understanding. Adelbern had been a tenured knight for a decade, but John had three times that duration under his belt. Pointing the finger at him, when there was a strong record of the Absolver issuing retreat orders, would be extremely silly.

Esther may have been right about the convenient timing of his rescue – but there was no way to prove, or even argue it with rhetoric. John had placed himself into that situation against the judgement of the Absolver. Any consequences borne from that were his to deal with. The Absolver had him in a bind.

“How bad were his injuries?”

Esther rolled her eyes and collapsed back onto her chair, “He shattered the bones in his arms to pieces. I don’t know what he was doing over here to cause that much damage, not unless that ‘Blackvein’ guy did it.”

“Blackvein?”

Esther snapped her fingers, “Yeah – that’s what the locals started calling him. Once word got out about what he did, they came up with all kinds of stupid titles for the guy. Blackvein, the Pale, some of them even got transferred through the Bend after some traders snuck through.”

Adel recalled hearing something along those lines, “Mythologizing him already…”

“What do they see in him? He’s just some thief who killed a lot of people – is that all it takes to be considered a big deal around here?”

Adel chuckled, “Yes. Actually.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s because you’ve been on the other side of it. Thieves are a part of the underclass, and while most despise them for their crimes, there is a sense of community between them. All can be forgiven if one does an appropriately heroic thing.”

“He killed forty people. What’s heroic about that?”

Adelbern felt like he was breaking bad news to her; “Not everyone is in love with the Inquisition, Esther. History can be analysed through a specific lens that posits a simple truth; the underclass will always admire those who spit in the face of authority. Kageyama represents that. A man who is taking the fight to a structure that oppresses them. They lionise him because they want to be him. An uncompromising man with the power to do as he pleases.”

Adelbern turned back to Esther, only to see a blank stare of non-comprehension on her features. She didn’t get any of it, her brain had turned off halfway through his explanation. She hummed aloud, “So… they don’t like Inquisitors?”

“Yeah – let’s just go with that.”

She pounded her chest pridefully, “Whatever. It’s not like he could beat all of us in a fight. Why aren’t we heading over there and showing him what’s for already?”

Adelbern knew that any explanation lasting longer than a few seconds would have a similar reaction to the previous one; “Absolver said that it’d be a bad idea. I don’t know the exact reason.”

“Even though you work with him so closely?”

“Especially because I work with him so closely. He’s not inviting me over for a friendly drink. People like me are the ones he needs to be the most careful around.” He put on a friendly persona, but Adelbern was not privy to the most important details. It would be presumptuous to trust the Absolver even if they did work together. Everything he did was a means to an end. He would not be lulled into a false sense of security about his position. He was a tool to be thrown away just like the rest of them.

Esther was disappointed, “Really? All I hear from the people back at the fort is that you’re the Absolver’s right-hand man. A lot of jealous people thinking you’re gonna’ shoot up the rank thanks to that.”

Adel shrugged, “I don’t have enough experience leading to be promoted. I’ve been working individual assignments for years now, and that’s where he wants me to be.”

Adelbern also preferred a degree of autonomy versus leading a squad. He’d have to file paperwork, train them, and go on regular patrols and investigatory missions. It was a significant responsibility that would eat up most of his time. The pay he was getting was already enough to live comfortably, and he had no attachment to holding a higher-ranking title. Esther was his opposite – always trying to worm her way into the good graces of her superiors, even though she had yet to lead a squad herself.

“What are you in Blackwake for anyway, did they send you to do busywork?”

Esther scoffed, “When is it not busywork? They don’t respect me, I swear. Once this is done, they want me to stay here and ‘reinforce the garrison’ until the frontline moves. Those soldiers have been sitting on their arses for two months now!”

“Forester was an offensive expert. They’re not going to feel confident pushing past the bend without him. I suspect that they might try to sue for peace soon.”

“Peace? Just like that? They’re harbouring the man using Stigma! And what about all of the men who died fighting?”

“The King doesn’t care about that. He’s concerned about preserving his military strength and making sure nobody can topple him. Investing tens of thousands of soldiers into a doomed push isn’t smart tactics – no matter how many people died getting this far beforehand. Everyone will decide that letting bygones be bygones is easier, and it’ll sputter out into a stalemate like this. A few months later they’ll make a big show of signing a peace treaty, declaring it to be the big victory they were looking for all along.”

Esther crossed her arms, “We took more territory than them anyway!”

“Oh, I’m sure the Kingdom will benefit greatly from all that swampland. Really worth all the men and women who died,” Adelbern laughed bitterly, “A year ago, they were saying that they’d finish the Federation once and for all. All they’ve done is prove that the Federation can stand toe to toe with them.”

But it didn’t matter. The Monarchists would find a way to rationalise their failure. They’d blame a convenient scapegoat or pretend that their ambitions were always less than they really were. A few years would pass of weary peace brought about from a significant loss of life, and no lessons would be learned. Soon they’d be marching on the Federation again – or the Federation would make a pre-emptive strike and take back the Bend faster than anyone could hope to react. Good luck finding enough soldiers willing to stay there and garrison the place.

“How’d you know that?” Esther asked.

“That’s how it always works out. I don’t know why you’re getting so invested in the outcome. These are events that we can only hope to play a small role in, if that’s our desire. Me? I’m not a soldier of Sull, I’m an Inquisitor. I’ll stick to my current responsibilities, thank you very much.”

Esther stared at him with a blank gaze. Adelbern waited with baited breath for the punchline.

“You have a funny accent.”

“…Scheiße.”

Why did he even bother with this woman?