Later that day; Bea, Rene, Harlowe and Clair followed the Elder and Berthold to a room near the back of the house. Clair had been this way before only a couple days ago. Inside this room was a scrying mirror that Gerd had used to show her a glimpse into the ghoul nest. With six people in the space it felt cramped as the group huddled over Gerd and the quartz mirror. She ran her gnarled hand over it and the reflection rippled like disturbed water as it changed from reflecting the group to peering out at the entrance to the ghoul nest.

"Last time we looked in they saw where we were scrying from," said Clair as she watched the entrance.

Rene leaned over Clair. "Really? Ghouls are not normally magically inclined, present company excluded."

Harlowe leaned over Rene. "No offense taken. I'm not exactly normal by any means." She pointed a claw at the image. "The entrance looks pretty distinct, there's some sort of architecture built into the cave."

Upon closer examination there appeared to be metal struts and some broken glass embedded in the rocky mouth of the cave. What it meant, none of them could tell other than it would make finding it in the Nebelwald much easier. 

Berthold put a hand on Gerd's shoulder.  "Elder, why not ask the Fae where it is?" 

"No, our village is already too indebted to them." The sternness of her voice was back. "You need to understand you can't rely on them for everything, eventually you'll run out of things you're willing to pay with."

The room was silent for a moment while those gathered imagined what Gerd had paid beyond her mundane sight. On the face of the scrying mirror things moved, small animals dashed away from the trees near the entrance. 

"I'm assuming the ghouls will be in view soon." Bea watched as the last of the wildlife flew, dashed or burrowed away. 

The ghouls did not come into focus. Berthold and Gerd made the view shift toward where they assumed the creatures were. As the image panned over the snow and trees it only briefly caught a single, seared limb. The ghouls not only knew they were being watched, but could tell where the scrying mirror was looking.

Harlowe bared her fangs beneath her mask, a faint growl rumbling in her throat. "That one is the shit that caught my stomach. Glad to see it at least has some burns on its legs."

"So we know what the place looks like, how do we go about finding it?" Asked Clair.

Bea puffed herself up and put a thumb towards herself. "Town's most capable hunter here, I can probably find it in a day or so if it doesn't start snowing again."

Berthold put a hand on her shoulder. "Sis, they're not like a regular animal." He tightened his grip. "You remember back–"

"Of course I remember!" She whirled around to face him. "I was there too… under uncle's ribcage." Her face softened. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Berthold's shoulders sagged. "Let's just get back to what's at hand. If you are going to go out there, you should at least take someone with you."

"I'll go with you, Bea." Clair inhaled sharply. "If Marcus has a spear on hand."

"And who is Marcus?" Asked Harlowe.

"Local blacksmith and a good friend." Something clicked as she remembered. "He would also know more about our ghouls, who they used to-"

Harlowe put her palm over Clair's mouth. "I don't want to know. You can go find out more, just do not tell me." Despite her tone, her eyes were dull with the brows pulled together ever so slightly.

The half-ghoul turned to leave the room. There was nothing to gain from staying around. "I'll be in my tent." She pulled the door open and left.

"I'll be back later tonight." Clair paused. "Going to see about her. I'll be checking in with Marcus as well." She pulled the door open. "Don't worry about me for dinner and don't go out into the woods without telling me, Bea."

Bea and Berthold both spoke at once, letting her know they understood. However, their words fell against the door as it closed. 

Rene tapped Gerd's shoulder. "Since the ghouls keep running from your sight, mind if I switch the location it's watching?"

The old woman nodded and Rene swept a hand over the mirror. Its surface did not ripple, but seemed to flicker before returning to a location closer to Imerre. When the vision stabilized it was fixed on the leather tent where the townsfolk had cornered Harlowe earlier that day.

"Just in case."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harlowe stepped out into the cold air of pre-twilight. The discussion inside had become something she no longer wanted any part of. They weren't talking about how they'd take care of those monsters. She exhaled and took a step into the snow. 

The door behind her opened. "Harlowe," said Clair.

She ignored her and continued to walk, her strides barely impeded by the snow. Clair followed after her as best she could. The half-ghoul gained ground by virtue of the sheer size of her steps. 

"Harlowe, damn it." Clair bounded through knee-high snow. "What was that back there?" She shouted.

The two of them were nearly to the small camp Harlowe had made on the outskirts of Imerre. A shovel stuck up from the snowy ground. She turned to face Clair and rested her claw on it's handle. Individual talons tapped the leather binding in turn. 

"I told you I would be in my tent. That's exactly where I'm heading." She extended her mechanical arm to point at the leather enclosure. "Or did you think I was going to do something else?" Tips of her claws dug into the handle slightly. "Think I was going to go feed like some wild animal?"

Clair was catching her breath as she watched the other woman bristle at her. "No," she took a deep breath and straightened up, "that's not what I was following you for."

She ripped the shovel from the frozen earth, snow and dirt flew after it. "What in all the hells am I meant to think?!" Harlowe pointed the blade of the shovel at her, the edge gleamed. "A holy woman follows an abomination out to a secluded place, what else could it possibly be?" With her right hand she unclasped her cloak and it fell to the snow.

Clair swallowed. She had certainly done what Harlowe was implying in the past. Memories of her axe biting into the flesh of beings like the half-ghoul bubbled up to the surface. Men and women twisted into monsters that she had to end. 

"Nothing to say now?" She jabbed the shovel towards her. "Nothing at all? You're going to freeze up, huh?" She put her right hand to the hinge of her mask. "Need some more proof so you can justify cutting me down like those damn monsters?"

Harlowe wasn't like the others she'd killed. She wasn't lost. "No, I don't and I'm not here to harm you." 

She whispered a word that Clair could not make out and the heavy iron mask clicked open. It hung around her neck for a moment before it fell into the snow. The woman's face was revealed. Her mouth was over stuffed with sharp fangs and dried ichor crusted on her lower jaw. There was what appeared to be scarring on the sections where the mask clamped around her flesh.

Clair stared at her. "About what I expected to see under the mask." That was only a half truth, she didn't expect to see her dried blood on her chin. "I've come here unarmed, Harlowe." She spread her arms out.

"Bullshit." Glass claws slid out. "Your kind is never without their magic. Neither am I." The air around her right hand distorted and a small cylinder popped out of her shoulder. "Plac."

"Never been particularly able to tell what spell was being cast." She pulled ambient magic together. "I mean you no harm."

Harlowe held her right hand out, the warped air visibly flowing into an aperture on her palm. Claire's will solidified the magic she'd pulled together in a thin matrix of snowflakes and chilled air in front of her. The two of them stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Neither spoke as time stretched between them. Harlowe's spell crumbled first. Or, more accurately, she closed her fist, disengaging the mechanism that perpetuated it. She began laughing. Clair's shield fell, ice glittering in the early twilight. Her own laughter joined Harlowe's.

Harlowe brought her right hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed. "This is ridiculous." She wheezed. "I expected a spike of ice, maybe a blast of holy energy… and what do you do?" She pointed a clawed finger at Clair. "You raise a damn shield."

"You're one to talk! What even was that you did?" Asked Clair, stifling a giggle.

The glass claws slid back into her fingertips.  "You couldn't tell?" Harlowe bent down and picked up her mask. "Really?"

Clair blushed. "I told you I couldn't!"

She locked the mask back onto her face. "You really told a potential threat that you can't tell the difference between spells?"

"You're not– I told you I didn't mean you any harm." Clair balled her fists. "I meant that."

Harlowe jammed the blade of her shovel back into the ground. "How in all the hells did you make it to forty-three?"

"I am perfectly capable in a fight." She frowned for a moment. "Didn't exactly make it through forty-three though."

Harlowe's lambent eyes softened. "If it helps I didn't really make it past twenty-eight." She inhaled and closed her eyes. "About why I left."

Clair held a hand up. "I think I get it, you don't need to explain if you don't want to." 

"I do want to." She swallowed. "I need to keep distance between myself and them. I need to not think about who they were." She stared at the palm of her left hand. "I need to not think about how I could end up like them."

Despite her height, the woman in front of her seemed very small. Clair stepped toward her, snow crunching under her boots. Harlowe began to step back, but put her foot down. The smaller woman wrapped her arms around Harlowe's gaunt body.

"Why?" Her throat was tight, her voice barely audible. "What did I do to deserve this?" 

Clair rubbed her back, her fingers sliding over the woman's bony vertebrae. It felt good. Harlowe's arms hovered around Clair, she didn't know if she could touch her. Her breathing hitched. 

"Go on, it's okay," said Clair.

Wordlessly, Harlowe embraced Clair as she had done to her. She was careful with her claws, making sure they didn't catch any of her clothing. Her right hand lightly stroked Clair's hair. 

"I didn't know I could still feel this." Harlowe's voice was faint, the coarseness barely present. "I scare people."

"You don't scare me." Clair hugged tighter. "I know what it's like though. My order was– is feared. We have a reputation for being… strict."

She chuckled. "I can't imagine you being particularly intimidating, even if your god is feared." 

"It was another life. It's been less than a week and it already seems like ages ago." Clair realized what Harlowe had said about her and slapped her back lightly. "Hey, you're the one who got scared of me earlier."

"Only a healthy respect for what divine magic can do to people with my condition." She leaned down lower, her head now near Clair's. "You smell nice…" Harlowe pulled her head up. "Sorry, it's just that this is the first time anything has come back."

Clair pulled back so she could look into Harlowe's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"My condition, it takes from me." Harlowe stretched her back. "Small things at first. I couldn't taste fresh fruit pretty early on and it just went from there as I lost my sense of taste for normal food."

"I'm so–" 

Harlowe held up a hand. "Let me continue."

Clair nodded. "Okay."

"I lost the ability to feel minor pains and then more and more. I don't even feel the cold." She inhaled. "I lost emotions too, joy being the first." 

Clair reached a hand out. "How have you gone on?"

"Spite? Or maybe foolish hope." Harlowe hugged herself. "I began to lose the ability to see colors. Almost everything has been getting duller, less vibrant." Her claws pressed against her side. "I don't know how much longer I'm going to be me." Harlowe shivered. 

Clair drew her lips into a thin line. "You said you got something back, though?" She asked with a faint smile.

Harlowe was silent. She shook her head and assumed a more neutral stance. With a deep sigh she began to walk back to her tent.

"Harlowe!" Clair's voice echoed in the emptiness of the streets. 

She stopped in place and turned around. "Nothing, I didn't feel anything come back." Her left hand clenched, the claws sunk into her palm. "It was just a desperate hope, a foolish notion. Nothing more."

Clair walked toward her. "Harlowe…" 

Harlowe looked over her shoulder. Her burning eyes locked with Clair's. "Leave me alone." She broke eye contact and kept walking. "I'll still be here when you need help with clearing out the nest." 

"Alright." Clair turned to leave.

The half-ghoul opened her tent and took a seat inside, where she watched Clair leave. She closed the tent flap.

Back in the Elder's home Rene and Gerd had stayed near the scrying mirror while the others were preparing dinner. The vision on the mirror's surface was the tent that Harlowe was sitting in. Rene waved a hand over the mirror, runes skittered over it. The two could hear crying coming from inside the tent.