“Breaking: Trading House Suspended

In an emergency session of councilors, Councilor Hana Inaba of the Tosakuran Chamber of Commerce representing the Vermillion Company cast the deciding vote within the Chamber of Stalwart Justice. Effective immediately, all of Arteria’s ties to the Braveskull Trading House are to be suspended. Their fate is to be decided following a full scale investigation to be conducted by members of the Clover Legion and various guilds within the city.

Condemning the heinous actions of the Trading House, the councilor pointed to the latest series of evidence provided by the Astralian Church's own investigators... ”

- Arterian Affairs, Headline Article, “The Arterian Affair Cont.”

Office of the Inquisition

Mare’s Berth, Royalist Gratia

Mila tried to stand up straighter, but found her shoulders sagging, her confidence failing, and her stoic facade completely broken. She was an inquisitor, a proper one, and inquisitors needed to project strength. Right now, she felt very much the opposite of strong.

Apprentice Inquisitor Philippe raised his brow, his foot tapping impatiently as he stood ready to push the door open, only politely waiting for her to compose herself. Behind her, Marduk the shield-bearer stood alongside one of Lieutenant Kraster’s templars, the slick smell of blessed incense and oils bringing a strange sense of sorrow to Mila’s heart.

Making the briefest of movements, she sucked in a small breath and looked at Philippe. The young inquisitor in training offered only a grunt in support and pushed open the doors.

It had once been her temporary office within Mare’s Berth, a long table fitted with a map of Gratia taking up the center of the room, a sleek wooden desk behind it that was silhouetted by the window. Now it had evolved to a proper inquisitorial lair featuring an ever growing stacks of reports, tomes and sensitive documents, an inquisitorial aide who looked nothing like Agent Orion, and her theater replacement, her master, Inquisitor Serilda.

The matronly but stern figure of the Senior Inquistor commanded the attention of any and all who were graced by her presence. Besides her guards and the aide, the familiar figure of Templar Lieutenant Kraster nodded politely at Mila’s arrival.

“Lyudmila, you look a little worse for wear.” Lady Serilda’s intrigued voice chirped at her presence, the Inquisitor rising from her desk with a stern expression on her face. Oh no.

Mila tensed up and bowed, her hands unable to stop fidgeting.

“Philippe, thank you. I’ll see you after we’re done here.” Lady Serilda spoke past her.

“As you command, Lady Inquisitor.” Philippe performed a small salute of his own, taking a brief moment to nod in support to Mila as he closed the door behind her.

With a soft click, she was now left to stand in front of her master on her own. Lady Serilda’s new aide was someone she didn’t recognize and handed her master a small sheaf of paper. He took this moment to whisper something in her ears, Serilda’s brow arced up a little in response. The Inquisitor nodded at something that the aide whispered and gestured for Mila to move closer.

Mila did as ordered, shuffling forward ever so slowly, her heart pounding faster and faster within her chest. After so long, and all she’ll see is a failure.

“Lady Serilda.” She knelt in front of the group, her head downcast in a sign of fealty.

“Always such a stickler for protocol.” Serilda snickered, “Kraster, Cooper, leave us.”

“Yes, mam.”

“As you command, Lady Inquisitor.” Huh, so this is Orion's replacement. Cooper.

The two others responded. The new aide to the Inquisition left with a curt nod at Mila. Kraster was a little more kind, giving her a pat with his gauntleted hand before he walked out the door.

That left her and her mentor alone. Lady Serilda sat on her desk, an inquisitive but almost motherly gaze cast upon her that made Mila feel even more guilty for her failure of an expedition. She knew that Serilda had high hopes for her and that her mentor was the one alongside Lord Inquisitor Viktor to allow her request for this posting. To have failed after so much shamed her to the core. She had trained diligently for years under madam Serilda’s tutelage. Yet she had been found wanting.

She swallowed her doubt, regaining some semblance of order in her chaotic mind. Trying to wipe the ever persistent scowl off her face, she could feel her muscles twitching.

To her surprise, Lady Serilda’s expression softened a bit more, a hint of tiredness coming from her mentor. But then her mentor moved closer, dwarfing the still kneeling Mila and looming over her.

“Lady Serilda, I-” Mila tried to speak.

The Inquisitor removed her gloves and a scarred hand rested atop Mila’s head. Afraid, the girl didn’t dare move. Just before she could question it, Mila felt her mentor ruffling her hair. Ah? Ah! Completely caught off guard, Mila almost wilted at the sudden sensation that graced her scalp. Having sensed her movements, Lady Serilda pulled away and moved back to her desk.

Mila stood back up, somewhat wary but more-so surprised and looked curiously at her mentor.

Serilda’s brows creased into a frown and she sighed deeply, “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

Immediately, whatever relieving feelings Mila felt vanished, her mistakes returning in full force. Her ashen expression and weakened breath elicited another sigh from the Inquisitor.

“Y-yeah, apologies, Lady Serilda.” Mila stammered out.

“Lady Serilda, hah.” The Inquisitor let out a single chuckle, “We’re alone, you can stand to be less formal.”

“Apologies, mam.”

“Lyudmila.”

“Sorry.”

“Enough apologizing. I’ve read the after action reports and from that Potomian you sent.”

“I-” Mila wavered, “It was…”

“You’ve done enough.” Serilda’s exhausted tone sending a lance of fear down Mila’s spine.

Mila panicked, it was a phrase she always worried about hearing. She felt her palms get clammy, a tinge of despair itching at the back of her mind.

“Lyudmila, calm yourself. Take a deep breath, breathe, and return to me whole.” Serilda pushed away some papers and leaned against her desk.

“I…” Mila started, her voice getting caught in her throat. Taking a moment, she did as she was told, taking a deep and trying to center herself. To collect her thoughts.

“Take your time, we’re alone here.”

Mila nodded, unwilling to trust her voice. This is an interrogation, she’s going to interrogate me. Oh Goddess, how pathetic am I? How can this pitiful servant redeem herself?

“What happened at first?” Serilda prompted.

“I assumed command of the eastern theatre.” Mila anwsered. Breathe, think, recollect.

“Then?”

“I had all church assets retreat to the Republican capital in case of the Purple Death spreading further. That earned the ire of the senior inquisitors within the loyalist capital.”

“So I’ve gathered.” The Inquisitor drummed her fingers on her desk. She’s expecting me to say something, but what?

“Then I was dismissed from my post.”

“That wasn’t all.”

“I… I then disobeyed directives to remain and led a sortie against the Purple Death and towards the fortress city of Monte De Trisse.” Mila felt her ears burning up.

“After that?” Serilda’s voice grew softer once more.

“I…” Mila paused, her sins dragging her to a standstill, the visions of when the death knight cut through her people like they barely mattered, “I failed, Lady Serilda. I led a sortie towards Monte De Trisse and lost all but a handful. We… I also indirectly led to the loss of a few border villages due to the undead advance. We did beat back a few enemy sorties but then ran into the death knight. And then…”

“And did you kill him?”

“Th-the knight?”

Serilda nodded.

“Yes. We defeated him.”

“How?”

“I… err, I cast a spell under the Goddess’s guidance. I blessed javelins that eventually pierced the monster.”

“Hmm, mmhmm.” Serilda hummed.

Mila stood stock still, waiting for her mentor’s response. All Serilda did however, was gesture for Mila to come closer. Still fidgety, Mila hid her hands behind her back and walked up, cowed by the idea of disappointing Lady Serilda.

This time, Lady Serilda did not ruffle her hair, but instead pointed to her neck. Curious, Mila touched where she had pointed to, only finding her necklace. Uncertain of what her mentor wanted, she pulled it out from under her tunic to hold it in her palm.

“What is it?” Serilda asked.

“Ah? Err, it’s the inquisitorial sigil?” Mila tried not to let her voice warble.

“And? What does it mean?”

“That one who wears it is an inquisitor.”

“Who is?”

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“Worthy of serving under the Goddess’s name.”

“And do you think you are?”

“I…” Mila gulped, blindly having followed along and answering by instinct. Now that she processed her mentor’s question, she felt like a little rat trapped in a cage by a predator. “I do not think so, but I hope I am.”

“Still? Even after this disaster?”

Her shoulders sagged, “I hope I still am.”

“Then earn it.” Serilda’s expression hardened, but she stood over Mila more like a caring parent. No trace of malice in her eyes.

“H-huh?”

“Earn it. Earn your place. You’ve failed once. We all have. Ensure you prepare, you learn, and you return better than now. That rosary is yours and yours alone. It means you are an official member of the Astralian Church, and of the Inquisition that serves to enact the Goddess’s justice. Where is the apprentice of mine that had all the fire and zealousness behind her? Where is the one who strove to prove herself?” Serilda snarled, “Viktor and I nominated you for a reason. We saw in you potential, me especially. So you’ve failed, and perhaps the losses were indeed tragic. But you know as well as I do that such sacrifices happen often in our line of work. That in order to combat the darkness, many good souls often get extinguished before their time. Yet we persevere. Why?”

“Er…”

“Why?” Serilda demanded more forcefully.

“Because it is our duty to protect those less capable. To stand against the dark tides that threaten us.” Mila hesitantly answered.

“Precisely. So mourn, grieve, contemplate your failure. Then rise up, and fight. Do not shrink away, do not simply give up. Fight, for Cyndralia, for the Goddess, for me.”

“I…” Her lips quivered.

“Look to the stars, draw from them comfort and strength, But through yourself, the power to embrace whatever may come your way. Because what is it that you wear around your neck?”

“The rosary…?”

“And what does it signify?”

“That I’m an Inquisitor.”

“The youngest inducted in recent history.” Serilda smiled a little, “And what is your duty?”

“To stand against the darkness.”

“Good. Don't forget that.” Her mentor nodded. The older woman’s form suddenly seemed to relax, looking far more haggard than Mila had expected.

Before she could move, she was then drawn into a hug, the shock making her stiff as her mentor gently caressed her head.

“Ah?!” She let out a surprised squeak.

“You’ve had it rough, haven’t you?” Serilda’s voice shifted to one far more matronly, more kind.

“Ah.” Mila's face drooped.

“Were you saddened? Scared?”

“N-no.”

“Really?”

“I apologize for lying. I was.” Mila admitted, still uncertain of what was happening.

“Then rest easy, dear. You won’t find yourself in hot water because of this alone, and there will be far more trials for one such as yourself.” Serilda chuckled dryly, “What happened was a tragedy. But you’re alive, here. And the Goddess needs you still.”

“But the people…”

“They followed you regardless. They knew the risks. Hells, I should be scolding you for venturing towards an unknown like the purple fog by yourself.”

“Oh.”

“But you did kill the knight. Even if it’s a small consolation. Good work.”

Mila slowly relaxed, her mind still unable to process everything happening.

“But you did it because you wanted to save your friend, right?” Serilda continued.

Mila weakly nodded, afraid of her mentor’s judgement.

“Well, I’m sorry to say but she’s gotten powerful, perhaps too powerful to be saved.”

Mila tensed up once more, understanding the hidden warning behind her mentor’s words.

“But the situation is calming down. Whatever their plans were, after they took Monte De Trisse, the fog receded from most areas, surrounding only the part of land they occupied. You know what that means?”

“No.” Mila managed to mutter.

“That means you have time to find a way. Time to hopefully get a better understanding of what happened. And in your older reports before your… sortie. Do you remember what magicks you noted?”

Time to…“That, I don’t recall.” Mila furrowed her brows, “Err, that the fog might be magic from a different era?”

“Mmhmm. And you know where you might potentially find a repository of this knowledge?”

“Umm, Saintsrest?”

“Heheh, well yes. Of course the cathedral might have some. But I’m talking about where you’re headed to next.” Serilda chuckled.

“Where I’m going next?” Mila looked up, her eyes widening as she realized Philippe’s letter about her being reassigned was not just a suggestion, “But I…”

“Still have so much to do here?” Serilda laughed, “I know, but you need a break. All of last year, you spent chasing down cults and putting out emergencies. I think you need a bit of a break. And don’t think I didn’t see the letter someone sent you.”

Sophie’s letter?! Ah! Mila tried to cover her face to no avail, her mentor just grinning at her.

“You have friends, other friends. And that makes me happy.” Serilda’s warm smile pierced through the tension in her heart, “But you’ve been forcing yourself for far too long. You need a break.”

Mila lowered her head, disappointed but understanding. The worries and anxieties she held finally began to dissipate.

“So you’re going to Arteria. To rest, but also to research whatever you can that might help with the fog. Does that make you sad?”

“A little.” Mila wobbled a little, her emotions now in complete chaos.

“I’ll do what I can to make sure the other Inquisitor’s don’t poke the hornet’s nest now that everything’s calming down. But I don’t know how long the demon behind the fog will rest. So you need to give it your all to find out more about the dark magic at play.” She’s calling Anna a demon… have I been too blinded this whole time? No, no, she’s giving me time. Another chance.

“And you have friends in the Academy and Arteria. Have them help you, just as Kraster and the others helped you here. Remember, you’re an Inquisitor, we do many things alone but we still have a team around us. So wallow not in your suffering and doubt. Acknowledge them, but then find the answers and push forward. For will you rise up to the challenge? To right your wrong?” Serilda looked into her eyes, searching for her resolve.

“I will, mistress.” Mila whispered, “I will.” This time, I will save you. Forgive me, Anna, but I will repay my debt to you.

War Room

Monte De Trisse, Enshrouded Lands of Gratia

“The Army of the West has responded to our overtures. They are willing to maintain a ceasefire, provided the mist does not spread further into their territory.” Lord Guillaume, her recently appointed advisor of the nobility, reported.

“And the East is still in disarray, the loss of the fortress and the flight of their commander has temporarily quelled the threat.” Her seneschal Alain added.

“‘Temporarily’ is the key word. Their overarching offensive is unlikely to stop. They have the manpower and the resources to rearm themselves for another one.” Her third advisor, General Iseult chimed in, “We must be prepared to meet the threat.”

Anna turned to her tribune, the praetorian nodding quietly.

He agrees with the General’s assessment, Pyra translated the gesture.

Anna furrowed her brow and dipped her head in acknowledgement, “It is as I said before then, continue shoring up the fortifications for the towns closest to Royalist territory. The Purple should be unpassable without strong wards to shield oneself, limiting the passage of troops. But have some scouts deployed along the Eastern approaches, just in case.”

“As you command, princess. But if I may?” Guillaume bowed.

“Of course. Speak freely.” Anna replied.

“Would the scouts not be seen as potential provocations?”

“There’s always that chance.” Iseult answered on her behalf, “But the princess is right. We cannot let our guard down, however much the move might be scrutinized.”

“As you say.” The administrator conceded, though the man did not seem particularly pleased.

Whilst her current territory was limited, it did have a few stray baronies trapped within the ‘Purple Death’ that Pyra had summoned. It was within those areas that a small set of nobility pledged their allegiances to the new principality. From there, a slow sense of normalcy settled for the nascent nation. The two nobles were appointed by their peers to serve as her advisors in full, however reluctant Pyra had been to accept them. Anna had, at least, appreciated that the seneschal had been selected to remain. Then, from the chevaliers present, Anna had called forth their commander to serve as commander in chief of the new territory’s military wing, especially since any remaining royalists had been purged.

“My- The Legion will be on hand to respond to any emergencies.” Anna corrected herself, “Deploy what scouts and footmen you need to for border security. Trust in the legion to hold the rear.”

“At once, your majesty. But what about the militia and my chevaliers? What would you have us do?” General Iseult performed a regal bow.

“I suggest the militia continue their duties as peacekeepers. While it's not ideal, we still have’t established a proper enforcement authority yet.” Alain suggested. A sound plan.

“Which is perhaps the other matter we should be discussing as well.” Guillaume mumbled thoughtfully.

“That is an acceptable solution. Augment their capabilities with your chevaliers if you can, general. Otherwise your knights can do as you see fit.” Anna agreed.

“As your majesty commands.” The general confirmed.

“In regards to the formation of a proper policing entity, I-”

A knock cut her off and everyone turned to the door.

“Enter.” She demanded.

The door swung open to reveal one of the unbroken. The massive knight’s terrifying aura made the entire room tense up.

He has news! Pyra chirped in her mind.

“Gentlemen, I believe our ladyship will be in need of privacy. Perhaps we should pursue the administrative matter after a short recess.” Alain immediately took control of the situation, casting a glance towards Anna.

She nodded, thankful that her seneschal was competent.

“Very well.” Lord Guillaume grumbled, “What matter could be worth interrupting a council meeting anyway? Especially at this juncture of the nation.”

This cur! This filthy rat questions us? Have him executed! Pyra roared.

No! What?! That’s too extreme! Anna fought back.

Then arrest him! Do something to punish this insolence!

I’ll handle it.

You better. Pyra warned.

“Now, now, honoured lord. We must be-” Alain tried to rebut but Anna gestured for him to pause. The seneschal seemed a little startled but quickly acquiesced, ceding the floor to her.

“Honoured lords, you must already know that recapturing my childhood home was not my only objective. Perhaps you suspect, or perhaps you have evidence. Regardless, there are other affairs that have brought me to where I am. With all decorum, that is the truth. However, that will be all I will speak on for this matter. Doubt me if you will, but look around and you can see that there are powers beyond your comprehension at play.” Anna put on airs.

Iseult seemed a little more wary, Anna able to tell that the man was continuing to assess her level as a threat. Guillaume remained unsatisfied, but the lord simply huffed and said nothing more.

“If that’d be all for now, honoured lords.”

“In the name of the lady.” The three lords chanted with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Anna bowed towards each of them as they left.

Tch, such weakness.

Or pragmatism.

Enough prattle, take the letter and read it to me.

Waiting until the council departed, she then reached out for the letter, feeling the icy chill of the unbroken knight as her fingers brushed against his gauntlets.

And? And? Is it about the Kastiane?

Calm yourself, I’m trying to decipher it. Anna scolded.

Upon casting an eye onto the writing, she felt her blood boiling. Her heart beat a little faster as her brows narrowed. The phantom scent of iron teased her senses. The handwriting of a coward.

Who cares about him? What does it say?

Her eyes examined each and every word, taking it all in mentally before relaying it to her disgruntled passenger.

Arteria, this Kastiane bard was headed to Arteria, likely already there. Arnold is asking for permission to continue the pursuit. Anna informed her counterpart.

Permission? Permission?! Return a message at once! Tell his group to go! Go! Go! At once! Pyra’s voice deafened her.

Okay, okay! I will! Calm yourself!

Bah! Calm?! Pathetic. Now do it! Send the order to go! So the most glorious of plays may begin! The princess began raving incoherently.

As she began writing, she tried to shield her questions from the now very agitated princess, locking her mind away from the princess's ravings. Just what the hells is so important about this Kastiane? Ugh, of all the people to help us find out, Arnold. Still, I guess I'll figure this out one way or the other, Pyra certainly doesn't seem too keen on sharing. Haah. Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?