“Are we certain this is not Kanon?” Ban asked, as we arrived in a small village two days after we had left the station.

“Nah, this is my old hometown,” Achak grunted with a hint of a smile, “Kanon is at least a week away.”

“Goddess, a week?” Judeka, the researcher that had accompanied us, said with an indignant cry.

“Tell me again, why are you even here?” I questioned him.

“The vessel containing the package may have been compromised, I am here to ensure that it is operating properly.” He accented his statement by pushing up his glasses with the palm of his hand, “it would be disastrous were it to stop functioning, in which case you’ll be grateful you have me.” Even still, I had doubted that. 

Ignoring him, I looked out at the village, or what remained of a village. Where buildings once stood there was nothing but rubble and ash. Crude wood fences were splintered, fields and animal houses left in shambles. I would ask what had happened, but I already knew the answer, the Malefic did this.

I had seen the devastation a Malefic attack could bring, though normally it would only be a small portion of a much larger city. In the abbey, and the many monasteries I had visited in other locations, there were always nuns ready to assemble, to fight the Malice. That was not the case here, not in this small village out in the middle of the first circle. 

Achak looked forlorn as he watched the survivors scurry about, clearing rubble, and doing the best they could to begin repairs. 

“I’m sorry,” I tried to console him.

He grunted, “nothin I haven’t seen before, and certainly not the last time I’ll be seein it like this.” He stepped forward and began to help a villager pull a slab of stone off a patch of land unearthing a plot of wheatweed underneath. The stocks where bent but unbroken, truly it was a resilient crop. 

“What are you doing? We don’t have time for this!” Judeka protested.

Seta stepped past him helping the other two carry the stone to a pile of rubble. The other inquisitors followed her lead aiding the villagers clear away the debris from their homes.

“We were going to find lodging here for the night regardless", the wagon driver told him, “might as well make ourselves useful to these folk.”

The stubborn researcher fumed, his face redder than a bloodapple, and sat down on a stone huffing and groaning. I was surprised to see a scholarly man act so much like a child, I had no prior experience with him though I had heard many praise him before. Perhaps the accolades of his genius were greatly exaggerated. 

“Shall we lend our aid?” Rafa asked me, but I stood on watching as Ban went to work helping the wounded. 

“What defense do these people have against the Malice?” I asked, not directing my question to anyone in particular. I stood there ruminating over everything I saw in front me, before my body moved as if on its own, compelled to help.

***

Night came and much of the rubble had been gathered into piles to the side of the village. I was told that it would be broken down, ground up, and used to make the cement to rebuild their homes. Tarps were raised over any structure that still had more than two walls, making for a temporary shelter, it wasn't much but it would have to do.

We stayed  in the home of the village elder, though Judeka chose to sleep in the wagon. The home was far from stable, though decidedly better off than much of the others. Four walls still stood, though I use the term "wall" loosely. The floor was no different than the ground outside, packed earth with all the loose stones removed. There was no furnishings or utilities, truly they were without modern convivence . What was probably once the kitchen had a single low table, and a countertop next to a cooking pit. Stone cookware, a simple mortar and pestle, and a drying rack to make jerky were the only things I could spot within the sectioned off room. The bedding that had been provided for us, was little more than straw matts, with pillows filled with the chaff of wheatweed. If this was the Elders home, then I could only imagine what the rest of the village had been like.

“Thank you Elder Mishek,” Achak bowed his head as he took a small bowl of broth from them.

“Achak, it has been many years, I am sorry you had to return to us at such a time.” The elder sat with us around a small round table, while their partner continued to hand out broth to the rest of us.

“I am sorry I couldn’t have been here sooner,” he said, sipping his broth, “maybe we could have saved more.”

The elder shook their head, “No, there is no blame to be placed on you and your lot, if anything we are fortunate to have had your help at all this day.”

“Elder Mishek, could you tell us what happened?” Ban asked.

“There is a shifting in the air, the Malice comes like a mighty storm, it builds its winds in the Wastes ready to topple Haven in a maelstrom of malevolence.”  

“Are you saying the Malice is getting more violent?” Seta stood against a wall, her voice rumbling from behind her helmet.

“It would seem there is a force at work within the darkness of the void.” the elder grunted in agreement as they spoke. “Something is coming, the Malice seems to move with it.”

“What could have such an effect on the Malice?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“A man passed through our village not long ago, one who bore a mask like hers. His blood was that of darkness, his heart empty.” They spoke of an Inquisitor as though he were a demon, “Their body was not natural, it had been touched by the Malice, and filled with something else. A new force... or perhaps an ancient one?” 

“What do you mean? Are you sayin they’re the cause of all this?” Achak asked, leaning back and scratching his head.

“Perhaps they are just another symptom of a greater problem.” Seta suggested.

“Perhaps,” the elder nodded their head.

“Sir Elder, could you perhaps clarify?”

“Just Elder,” Achak corrected me.

“I’m sorry, Elder, I will admit I am lost, are you saying that the man passed through and the Malice followed?” I asked.

“Yes, though the Malice still lingers in the distance, It is as if it has focused its rage on not one but many targets.” they poured polished stones from a satchel onto the table and began to arrange them. They made a circle of darker stones around a lighter one, and a few smaller circles of dark stones around other dark stones. “The Malice has a will, such has been believed by our people for a long time, and such has been shown evident. It is not a force of nature as your kind believes, but living as you and I,” they began to explain. “The Malice chooses to attach itself to those who it sees as like minded, and follow with them leaving destruction in their wake.” They moved one of the smaller groups of dark stones, allowing some to linger as they moved. “This masked man is one such kind, where he will go, so shall the Malice.” The elder then moved their hand to the larger circle with the lighter stone. “Then there is another, who draws the Malice to them not as an ally, but as an enemy. The Malice converges on them, seeking to corrupt them.” They moved the darker stones from some of the smaller groups to the larger group, surrounding the light stone.

“An enemy of the Malice? Do you mean the High Priestess perhaps?” I questioned.

The elder shook their head, “there is another, one who exists in this world to expel the Malice. As such, the Malice is threatened and looks to make this one like one of its own.” They moved the dark stones closer to the light one, and replaced it with another dark stone. “If this were to happen, the Malice would grow in power; witches, Shamans, communicators and prophets, not a single one of these would be able to fight back.” They poured a greater number of dark stones onto the table. 

“Who is this enemy of the Malice?” Ban leaned in, deeply invested in the elders’ story.

“She who was called from the realm of Barbelo, the greater one whose knowledge is beyond what we could ever know. A being of love, pure and unfaltering.” The elder spoke with an affectionate hum in their voice, as if to sing in worship of this ‘being of love’.

“Barbelo?” I questioned.

“To your people, she is called ‘Elarael’, though even that name may be lost to you.”

“The Goddess of Love,” Ban answered.

“The name of the Goddess is Sakolael,” I objected.

“That is what the church has come to teach, but the goddess you worship now, is not the true goddess.” The elder responded, “no some time ago the teachings had been changed, and a new aeon had become the focus of your worship.” 

“That is preposterous, what evidence do you have of this?” I did my best to temper my anger, to speak calmly, though it was not easy as all I had known was challenged.

“Ours is an ancient teaching, one that dates to a time before the calamity, before the Malice had tore the world asunder. A time when the Goddess of love walked freely with the children of Eforde.”

“They speak the truth, as it is the same teachings we Knights have passed on for generations.” Ban nodded, “As I said before, we too predate the Church of Order, it is by our merit we were permitted rank within the High Priestess’ sect.” 

“The founding of Haven,” Seta said.

“Yes, it was in fact my predecessors who first colonized this land.” Ban said gleefully. Achak cleared his throat and Ban quickly corrected himself, “well what I mean is, the first of the Ael to come to this land, after the Kyda of course.” 

I had known the story of the founding, Saint Ada herself had helped to expel the Malice from the oasis found at the very heart of our Haven. She was joined by six others, among them was Saint Alexandria, the first Warbride Nun, Saint Colette, who would later lead the holy army. There was Saint Reanor, a mechanical genius who’s research brought us the first steam engine. Saint Marsha the proud, whose many great deeds were celebrated to this day. Saint Ruth the Just, who founded the court of Law. And lastly Saint Ella, whose story seemed lost to history.

“How sad is it, that this land was founded by Witches, Shamans, and the like, only to turn against them.” Ban sighed.

“What?” I snapped my head towards him.

“How do you think they purged the land of Malice?” He tilted his head with a smirk. “Or have you discovered a new way to fight the Malefic?” I had never considered it. The church taught no such thing. Of course saint Alexandria was a nun, but the others too? And some were men, though Achak had explained to me that Shamans could be men, so then that would make sense. Still if this were the truth, why would the church hide it? Why would the church persecute witches, eradicate the Shamans? It made no sense. Surely they were mistaken, there was no way this could be the truth. Right?

“All materials used to teach, from history texts, to religious texts, and even the news, are printed within the sixth circle where the church commissions them.” Seta spoke up. “It does not surprise me you have never learned this. Though Ban, you should be careful where you speak of such knowledge.” 

“I am in good company, am I not?” Ban smiled wide and gestured to us all. “Will you turn me over to the church, lovely sister Marionette? Would you execute me for a heresy, Grand Inquisitor?” We did not answer, because the answer was no.

“There is so much knowledge that you do not have, my love, perhaps Ban can be a font of wisdom for us?” Rafa suggested to me.

“You can learn much from commander Ban,” Seta said to me as though she knew what Rafa said, or at least I believe it was towards me. 

“Perhaps I can...”