Military chaplain Angelo did not enjoy mediating disputes between soldiers, but this time was different. He quickened his pace and entered the tent where the incident occurred, as the onlookers parted to let him through.
On one side of the tent stood Bossia, her brow furrowed, biting the inside of her lip, her heel nervously rubbing against the ground. On the other side stood Kegira, a 32-year-old female warrior, her expression that of a stern teacher waiting for a rebellious student to admit her mistake. Behind her stood several other female soldiers who shared the tent.
"Priest, you're here? Great. Come and take a look at this sweet little face," Kegira said. "She just said, 'Don't provoke me.' But look at her—doesn't she seem like a spoiled rich girl sulking because her lover didn't knock on her door last night?"
"Respect, Kegira, you need to learn respect. The Light does not bless warriors who belittle their comrades," Angelo turned to Bossia. "Tell me, what happened?"
"She took something of mine."
"What did she take?"
Bossia pressed her lips shut.
"Bausia, I'm asking you."
She remained silent, her gaze fixed on Kegira.
"Kegira, you tell me," Angelo said.
"Me? Priest, don't cover for her. Why would I take anything from the little girl? She's just throwing a tantrum."
"I'm not," Bossia said.
Angelo stepped closer to Bossia and whispered, "Is it a personal item you'd rather not mention?"
Bossia nodded.
"You need to tell me, or I can't help. I'm a chaplain and will keep any secret of a soldier. You must trust your priest."
"It's…"
"What is it?"
Again, she shut her mouth.
"See, Priest, she's been like this all morning," Kegira said. "Isn't this slander? Shouldn't she be sent to a military court?"
"Enough. Your attitude toward the new recruits has always been a problem, Kegira."
"Oh, Priest, just because she had some special status in the past, you don't have to be this way. Besides, I've been treating her very well, not angry at all, and even kindly asked her what she lost so we could help find it. But the little girl insists on butting heads with me."
"Stay here quietly, and don't go anywhere," Angelo said. "Bausia, come with me."
As they walked out of the tent, they heard mocking whispers behind them.
"What really happened?" Angelo asked Bossia behind the tent.
"She took something important of mine and won't give it back."
"You need to be specific. Soldiers are allowed to bring personal items, and honestly, in the army, theft often targets personal belongings. If you…"
"Stop. I'll find it myself."
Angelo sighed.
"If that private matter is truly so important to you that it must remain hidden even before the Light, I have nothing more to say. Just remember not to clash with Kegira. She's an ill-tempered veteran. To be honest, I don't want you to have conflicts with anyone. Archbishop Benedictus, he also…"
"Don't mention him. It makes me sick."
"Don't go too far, Bossia. No one should speak like that about the greatest Light preacher of our time, let alone the man who raised you. I won't question why you chose to give up your status as a paladin of the Light Cathedral, but seeing you so vehemently renounce your past faith makes me sad, and worried. Abandon your faith if you must, for the Light respects each person's choice, but never abandon yourself."
Bossia could tell Angelo was genuinely worried about her. But that still didn't make her speak.
Since joining the regiment, she had always kept the golden key around her neck, hidden beneath her collar. This morning, when she awoke, it was gone. The only one who could have stolen it was Kegira, the oldest female soldier in the camp, who was said to have served as a sergeant for a few years before being demoted back to a regular soldier. Since leaving Stormwind, Kegira had constantly caused trouble for Bossia. It wasn't unusual for veterans to bully new recruits, but Kegira's motives were obvious. Her taunts made it clear: "I heard you used to be a paladin at the cathedral? So what did you do all day? Practice etiquette in the morning, learn how to make tea in the afternoon, and in the evening, take off your armor and put on a pretty dress to attend some grand mansion party?"
Along the way, whether it was intentional shoves, loud conversations with other soldiers, or little tricks during meal distribution, Bossia had endured much from Kegira. She understood the difficulties of being a new recruit, but losing the golden key had crossed a line. After Angelo left, Bossia quickly returned to the tent, but facing Kegira's gaze, she felt powerless. The key was her most precious, yet also most dangerous, possession. She had nearly sacrificed her life to keep it, and now it had been carelessly lost like a meaningless wooden comb. What would Jorgen think? Yet Bossia thought, Jorgen would probably say that for her own safety, losing it to someone unrelated was better than constantly wearing it. She believed Jorgen cared more about her safety. It was a reasonable assumption, a kind of self-consolation.
Even so, that night she struggled to sleep. What she didn't know was that Father Angelo was also sleepless. His hands trembled as he paced the room, then knelt on a prayer mat, muttering prayers mixed with chaotic thoughts:
"Light, guide me… How can I bring her back on the right path?… Archbishop, are you praying for her too? Oh, please don't let the most beautiful flower nurtured by the Archbishop wither before my eyes, for then my sins will be unforgivable. May the Light bless you, Bossia."