Chapter 13.5

Stones bricks and wooden planks formed the structure of the massive estate. Many would believe this to be another wonder created by the Ancients. However, many would be wrong, for it was not the tools and trinkets of the old gods that shaped this masterpiece but the sweat and tears of the honed craftsmen. A large audience hall, decorated with masterfully woven rugs and banners, laid at the center of the construct. Pristine and elegant furnishings filled the room with splendor unmatched by even the wealthiest merchants of Luminus. Oiled lanterns adorned the walls, lighting the room with soft orange flames. Rows of gracefully robed men and women lined the stands on both sides of the chamber, paying full attention to the elderly man that was seated on his magnificent throne. The figure wore a red triangular headpiece, his body covered by a silver gown made from the finest of silk. Gold and red stoles rested on both of his shoulders. Before him kneeled, respectfully, a man with a shaven head. The deep scars on his face marked him as a veteran of his trade.

“Speak, Inquisitor. What do you bring to my court today?”

“Your holiness, I bring grave news.” The man’s voice, soft and deep, exhibited the bitterness in his heart. “The valiant faithful, those who defended our northern bastions against the despoilers have fallen in their noble lines of duty. Now, the vile thieves have claimed what is rightfully ours.”

Whispers and mumbles commenced at the sidelines. The elderly man covered his eyes and sighed.

“What of the survivors? Have they returned?”

“Although few in numbers, those who had not perished returned to us, ready to serve once more.” The inquisitor’s head remained low as he responded.

“And what of the prisoners? Can we negotiate their safe return?”

“Your holiness, the Order takes no prisoners. Those who did not fall in battle were hunted down like animals.”

Hearing the fate of his fellow faithful, the elderly man lamented his frustrations.

“Curse these barbaric fools, they seek to bring humanity’s downfall once more, just as their ancestors had done.” The elderly man rubbed his eye with two of his fingers, the countless nights of unrest had not been kind to his health.

“Shall we muster the men and serve divine retribution?” The inquisitor questioned. “We cannot leave this crime unpunished. Many eager to serve, to avenge our fallen brethren.”

“I resonate with your passion, Inquisitor, however, our chapter already suffered many losses, our people already struggle to meet their daily needs. We simply cannot marshal the necessary force needed for a crusade.”

“But your Holiness, armies could be drafted. It is their duty and honor to serve in the name of the greater good, in the name of the almighty Solis. Criminals, the purified, and the baptized eagerly await their opportunity for repentance in the ranks of the Fanatics. Converts, from all walks of life, willing to throw down their lives to ensure the lands will prosper once more under the unyielding light of the one true God. Please, I beg of you, allow us the opportunity to show our devotion to the divine cause.”

“Enough! I will not allow our people to die senseless deaths! Children of the faithful lay orphaned, mothers of the brave forever weeping for those who will never return, and our crusaders maimed with crippling abrasions. And you dare ask for more?!”

“Forgive me, your holiness, for I meant no such offense!” The inquisitor quickly lowered his head further. “I simply do not wish to see our chapter crumble and our legacy lost in these desperate times. Our oil reserves dwindle by the hour. I fear we may not last if we do not claim our birthright.”

“Raise your head, Inquisitor. You meant no ill will.”

Slowly returning to his original position, the inquisitor shows his gratitude.

“I thank you for your benevolence, for I have overstepped my bounds.”

“My lord! My lord!” An individual screamed as he entered the room. “I bring terrible news!”

“YOU DARE!?” The newcomer’s rudeness incurred the inquisitor’s wrath. “YOU STAND IN THE PRESENCE OF HIS HOLINESS, BISHOP DECIMUS.” The inquisitor quickly drew his pistol and aimed it at the panicked young man’s head. “I will not stand for your insolence.”

“D-Do with me as you will! However, my words must reach the Lord Bishop’s ears.”

While signaling with his hands, the elderly man gave his permission.

“You may speak, young one. What matter relieved you the etiquettes of my court?”

The man bowed on his knees as his voice trembled with discord.

“W-We’ve found a deserter, Oracle Maximus, he abandoned his post within the Dark Lands.”

“What of it?” The inquisitor scoffed. “Execute the coward and be done with it.”

“It is not his actions that concern me, but the news he brought! The man speaks of witches and summoned demons. At first, I thought him to be mad! Doubt lingered, thus I investigated. With my own eyes, I found that he spoke of the truth. I fear the End Times may be upon us.”

Mumbling filled the room before the atmosphere became silent. All gazes fell on the bishop who remained deep in thought. Finally, he spoke, breaking the tensions thick enough to be sliced by a knife.

“Take me to this deserter.”

***

A group of three descended the spiral staircase made of unevenly cut stone. Unlike the well-maintained estate situated far away above, the town dungeon down below was in a state of disrepair. Moss and mold accumulated in various moist areas as airflow was limited. With every inhalation, a musty scent assaulted the nose, making the experience ever more unpleasant. Torches evenly lined the walls, creating a dim orange light that shone the pathway ahead. At the bottom of the stairwell, the path diverged from one to many. The group followed the young man as he seemed to know the way.

“You seem well acquainted with the dungeons, young one. What be your name and title?”

“Your holiness, I am Vindicator Vibius.

“Are you a vindicator of Ember-Ridge?” Decimus remembered his pleasant trip to the orderly town that surrounded his estate. “I applaud you for your dedication to your work, for you have fulfilled your duty wonderfully.”

“Your words are too kind, your holiness. I do what I must for the greater good.”

“How much longer shall will you expose us to this destitute filth, Vindicator?” The Inquisitor became impatient as his tolerance of the unpleasant air was lower than that of the other two.

“There!” Vibius pointed. “Just around the corner, where the Oracle is held.”

Two guards, both armed with sawed-off shotguns, stood ready at the entrance of the cell rooms.

“HALT!” One of the guards shouted. “Who are the two you bring along with you, Vindicator?”

“Watch your tone, Guardsman. You are in the presence of his Holiness the Bishop Decimus and Inquisitor Marcus.”

The two guardsmen immediately kneeled.

“Forgive us, for we did not know.”

“Stand, Guardsman. You simply adhered to your obligations.” The Bishop continued. “Where is this deserter?”

One of the guardsmen led the group to a cell. A man, arms tied behind back, laid still on the cobblestone ground. Blisters and bruises tarnished his face, bald spots appeared where his golden hair was forcefully torn off.

“I do not understand why we allowed this coward to live.” The guardsman then addressed the prisoner locked within. “Show your respects, scum. You are in the presence of the Lord Bishop.”

“B-B-Bishop?!” The man crawled with his shoulders to the bars of his cell, his legs seemed to be broken.

“P-Please, understand! I-I did not run because I was afraid to fight. The battle s-simply could not be won!” Dread and desperation escaped the Oracle as he attempted to explain himself. “The witch! She summons demons! M-Man eaters! Beasts, which w-we’ve never witnessed! Bladed arms! Our Purifiers, they f-fell like flies! Please! Believe me, y-your holiness! Have mercy upon me!”

“Calm down, Oracle. Tell me, what had you observed?” The elderly man imbued his words with compassion, calming the distressed prisoner.

“O-Our mission in the Dark Lands. W-We began the purification process, as we baptized the first of the corrupt children, th-”

Before the Maximus could finish his sentence the Bishop interrupted with anger and fury.

“You purified children?! Purification is a punishment bestowed upon the most heinous of criminals yet you dare perpetuate it on children?! Inquisitor Marcus, this one does not deserve to breathe our air.”

“Please! I simply followed the Inquisitor's will. He told us that lacking devotion warrants them as criminals. I need not question, for I had faith and piety. H-Have mercy upon me!” Maximum begged and pleaded in a puddle of his own tears as Marcus drew his weapon.

“Wait.” Decimus stopped Marcus before he could execute the bawling deserter. “Who was your inquisitor?”

“Inquisitor T-Tullius.” The man gulped his saliva. “He ordered us!”

“And what of him now?” The Bishop’s gaze was sharp, and his voice cold.

“P-Perished by the demons, your holiness!”

The Bishop leaned in closer.

“Then one wrong hath been put right, but your book of sins remains full.”

Decimus then turned his gaze towards Vibius.

“Vindicator, you had confirmed the deserter’s claims?”

“It is as the deserter described: desecrated bodies, men sliced in two, signs of a battle. I have never seen demons who are able of this sort of cooperation. The blade wounds could not have been from the ones we’ve witnessed.”

“Inquisitor Marcus.” Decimus stroked his chin. “Immediately return to our holy city of Ember-Cradle and warn the other chapters. Warn them the possibility of the second witch.”

Acknowledging the orders given to him, the Inquisitor immediately set out.

“Vindicator Vibius, find and inform Inquisitor Servia of the upcoming witch hunt. We must leave nothing to chance.”

“What fate lies with the scum?” Vibius questioned.

“P-Please have mercy, your holiness!” The man continued to weep and beg on his stomach. “I only obeyed what I was told!”

“Have him purified.” The Bishop declared as he strayed from the cell. “If he survives, have him repent in the ranks of the Fanatics.”

“And if he dies… Then that will be my mercy…”