Cintra, 8th of Suncrest, year 305 UC
Veron sat by the open window, his gaze fixed on the sprawling city below. A silver coin spun between his fingers, spinning with practiced ease. The white mask with its distinctive black stripe concealed his features, marking him as a High Inquisitor. It's a symbol of his position and a shield for both him and his family.
A family that he still doesn't have.
Lost in thought, Veron contemplated his impending retirement.
'Just a few more months.'
He mused, and he could leave this life behind.
Deep down, he knows it's a comforting lie. The Inquisition never truly releases its members, always retaining the right to recall them. Still, after 39 years of service, even a temporary respite feels like a godsend.
'But, where do I go? Pater knows I need away from this damned city.'
Valewater to the north. Life right on the beach next to the Nortian Ocean with the cool breeze against his skin sounds perfect. He can imagine it now, drinking some overpriced alcoholic beverage as if it were just him and the waves.
But, it was quickly taken over by all the tourists shouting, the noisy ass kids, and the crap ton of people.
'Yeah, not Valewater.'
But, Kal-Dar? Oh, how sweet would that be?
A small secluded house in the mountains, with nothing but the trees surrounding him, and no people to bother him. Now, that was truly perfect.
He smiled slightly as he could picture it now, waking up to the crisp mountain air with the birds singing. Fixing himself a nice cup of warm tea in the morning before answering the door.
'The door? The fu—'
Who would be knocking on his door in the middle of nowhere?
No one is who.
Another knock, louder this time echoed in the small room.
He sighed as the coin in his hand stilled.
"Enter."
He said already regretting it the moment he saw who it was.
The door swung open, revealing a novice.
Her black mask, adorned with a white X-marked line, identified her rank. Veron recalled his own days as a novice, before rising through silver-masked Inquisitor to his current position. He'd chosen this plain white mask upon his promotion, a decision he'd never regretted.
"Sir, The Grand Inquisitor requests your presence."
She told him.
'Shit.'
The easy days leading up to his retirement were fading.
Being called by the Grand Inquisitor was never a good thing, considering the man always handed out some trivial task that need be finished. Which by itself would be simple, if not for the fact it would be tangled with politics.
Where had the days gone when Veron could just be tasked with tracking down a rogue mage or blending in by working at an academy?
"Very well."
He said as he rose and pocketed the silver coin into his pocket.
"He awaits you in your office, Sir."
The novice said as he walked past her.
Veron strode down the hallway, as his eyes wandered over the decorative painting of a man posing with his arms open with white wings behind him. He never did understand the painting, and he wanted to take it down but he couldn't. This building was not his own, and everything here had a purpose.
Or so they say.
The novice inquisitor walked beside him, her posture told him she was stiff. Overworked and underpaid. Such was the life of an Inquisitor, at least one at the bottom of the totem pole.
For the first time, Veron noticed the stack of papers clutched in her hands. He glanced at her.
The young woman kept her gaze averted, focusing intently on the path ahead. Veron couldn't help but wonder about the face beneath her mask. It was a thought that had crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit. Surely, he wasn't alone in such musings.
As they approached an intersection, the novice turned right, heading towards the first floor. Veron continued straight. The corridors were quiet now, but he knew that would change once word spread of the Grand Inquisitor's visit.
Inquisitors came and went as they pleased, but news like this would draw them like moths to a flame.
Veron's responsibilities as High Inquisitor of Cintra weighed heavily on his shoulders. Monitoring mage activity, handling tasks, overseeing training - it all amounted to a mountain of paperwork he'd rather delegate. His second in command, conveniently absent at this crucial moment, often bore the brunt of such tedious duties.
As he approached his office, Veron's hand reached out for the wooden door.
'Best get this over with.'
He told himself as he opened the door.
Veron entered his office to find a tall man standing in front of the wooden desk, his back turned. The room, while not pristine, maintained a semblance of order that others would say was a cluttered mess.
Those people just were not him and didn't have the keen memory that he did.
The man wore a long black robe with a hood pulled over his head. As he turned, Veron saw the distinctive black mask adorned with two red streaks running down its left eye. A brown vest covered the robe, and a silver chain hung from his neck, bearing a crescent moon pendant with a red gem nestled between its curves.
The man held a paper in his hand.
Kayle Silverblade was the single most powerful person in all of the Inquisition, and his rank stated such. For him to be here, in this backwater town meant nothing good.
Which is why Veron knew something occurred and it was utterly his fault, because the blame would be placed on him. A retiring member of the order who gave very little to the ongoing operations of what was happening within Cintra.
He knew that, but they didn't.
He was too old for this crap, and couldn't wait to meet his replacement.
Whatever fool was eager to climb the ranks and wanted the key to this city, they could have it for all he cared as long as it wasn't him.
Veron greeted the man.
"Grand Inquisitor Kayle."
Instead of returning the greeting, Kayle tossed the paper towards Veron. It seemed to float through the air as if carried by an impossible breeze in the windowless office. Veron caught it deftly but refrained from glancing at its contents.
The Grand Inquisitor spoke.
"Do you know the cause of the murder that occurred here a couple of days ago?"
"Which one?"
Veron, attempting to lighten the mood, quipped.
His attempt at humor fell flat, met with Kayle's death stare. The intensity of the gaze caused Veron to lean against the wall as he closed the door behind him.
"I've assigned people to investigate the incident from two nights ago, but so far, they haven't had any luck."
Veron explained.
"That's not good enough."
Kayle retorted.
'Then do it yourself.'
Veron thought to himself but was wise enough to never voice those words out loud. The moment he talked back, his head would go flying before he could blink.
'It's just one noble. They die all the time, especially their children. What makes this one so special? Is it his son?'
Veron couldn't help but think, wondering if the Grand Inquisitor was related to the man. They all used fake names within the organization. Another precaution of theirs, so there was a chance the man could have been related to the deceased.
"I'm doing what I can with the resources at my disposal. If you sent more people, perhaps we'd have already found the culprit."
Kayle's voice grew colder.
"That noble was Duke Victor's son. The king has enough issues to deal with as it is. This matter needs to be resolved swiftly."
The murder of a high-ranking noble's son could have far-reaching political implications.
'Just my luck. The stupid kid got himself killed in my city of all places. He just couldn't have gone to the next town over to die, could he?'
"Are you personally on the case?"
Kayle asked.
"No."
Veron admitted reluctantly.
He did not like where this was going. How he longed for the day he could put this mask down and never look back.
"That changes now, pull resources from other tasks if you have to, but the murder of Chris Victor must be our highest priority."
There was no escaping this task. When someone of a higher position told you to do something, you did it.
When the Grand Inquisitor told you to do something, you did it with a smile on your face.
Veron nodded.
He finally glanced down at the paper in his hand, scanning its contents. It was a preliminary report on the murder, detailing the gruesome scene and the lack of substantial leads.
"I'll take charge of the investigation immediately."
Veron assured the Grand Inquisitor.
Kayle's posture relaxed slightly.
"See that you do. The stability of the city could depend on it. Duke Victor is not a man to be trifled with, and his grief could turn to rage if we don't deliver results soon."
A grieving, powerful noble could cause significant problems if left unsatisfied.
"I expect daily reports on your progress. If this turns out to be the work of rogue mages or some political plot, I want to know immediately. We don't need another Thal'Kudar on our hands."
Veron frowned upon hearing that name, although Kayle couldn't see it.
Thal'Kudar was one of the worst criminals to have ever been born, and the kingdom still hasn't recovered from the damage he caused. An entire city sunk into the ground, forever lost in history due to him.
Veron's family died because of him.
As Kayle turned to leave, Veron couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment. His dreams of a peaceful retirement seemed to be slipping further away with each passing moment.
"One more thing."
Kayle paused at the door, his hand on the handle.
"This case takes precedence over everything else, including your retirement plans. I hope that's clear."
Veron's heart sank, but he maintained his composure.
"Crystal clear, Grand Inquisitor."
He so desperately wanted to be in Kal-Dar at this moment, away from everyone. Deep in the mountains, where no one wanted to travel.
Veron pitied the person who would need to travel up there to give him news of his recall if it ever happened. He would happily pray that that person died on the way up.
**********
Cintra, 12th of Suncrest, year 305 UC
Veron sat at the head of a long table, surrounded by six others. Four Inquisitors and two novices, all under his command, filled the seats.
His head rested in the palm of his hand as he listened to a report being delivered. The monotonous drone of facts and figures washed over him, each word blending into the next.
It was boring and not what he wanted to discuss.
With a wave of his hand, Veron silenced the Inquisitor wearing a silver mask adorned with a purple raindrop.
"I didn't call you here for a progress report on other cases."
He could tell that the man was upset for being interrupted, and Veron also did not care. There were bigger problems to worry about than some Magitech being stolen from someone's home. They should have had it secured in a safe place.
"I need to know everything about the Chris Victor case. The noble who died almost a week ago."
A buzz of chatter erupted among the other Inquisitors. All of them knew about the noble who died, but not every one of them knew his name. He waited for someone to step forward with useful information.
Something was better than nothing, and he'd rather hear it from them than read it from a sheet of paper. Information could have been left out on the reports, but any detail no matter how minor could help.
After a moment, a woman Inquisitor stood up. Her black and purple dress contrasted sharply with her silver mask, which bore purple markings. Lyra, as she was known, cleared her throat before speaking.
"Chris was attending a brothel, seeing a courtesan named Lilith. He was rejected, after which he ended up getting drunk at a tavern. People spotted him leaving in a foul mood, picking fights with everyone in sight. The last known location was where his body was found."
Veron leaned forward.
"Did he take a wrong turn somewhere? How did he end up in the lower part of Cintra? Also, he couldn't have traveled that far with no one seeing if he was with someone else. Anything on that?"
Lyra shook her head.
"We don't know, sir."
Veron sighed, tapping his finger on the table.
"So, we have a good idea of what Chris was doing, where he went, and where he was last seen alive. But we have no idea who killed him or why. Nor do we have a clue as to where he was headed."
No one said a word, and Lyra sat back down.
'Great! Basically, the bare minimum was done. Do I only get the lazy people or is this place so unimportant that only those without skill are sent here?'
Veron stopped that line of thought instantly. He was here, and at least he had the skill to match his rank. So it was definitely someone in some nice cozy office somewhere far away sending him the leftovers.
Looking around the table he asked.
"And who is this woman? The one found with him? Did they meet up beforehand, or is it unrelated? Some innocent bystander?"
The room fell silent.
'Seriously? You all can't be this bad at your job, can you? Who was in charge of training you guys?'
Veron would need to have a word with whoever was in charge of their recruitment and training after this was done.
"Do any of you have any idea who she is?"
A novice Inquisitor spoke up.
"We haven't gotten that far yet, sir. We've been searching for clues related to the noble."
The Inquisitors were supposed to take the lead on this, but a young novice had more balls to speak than them. He would have been impressed, if not for the fact that the man's voice trembled when he spoke.
Veron stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
"This case is our highest priority, as you've probably guessed by my gathering you like this. Not everyone has been recalled, but those within the immediate region and with tasks that don't have a deadline are present."
He paced behind his chair, his hands clasped behind his back.
"I am not impressed with your findings, frankly a novice-in-training could have done a better job than you all. If it were up to me, I'd strip you all of your rank and kick you out. I'd go so far as to make sure your lazy asses never got the chance to work another day in your life."
His gaze went around the room, eyeing each of them.
It was hard to tell if they were upset by his words. He cursed the order for having them wear masks at all times because just seeing their faces would brighten his mood.
He was very much so of the mind that when others suffer, it is a good day. Which wasn't the best outlook on life, but it's what made him… him.
Veron always thought he had a good understanding of reading people's facial expressions. So it irked him whenever he couldn't see who he was talking to. He felt the others in his position must feel the same.
So instead, he envisioned how they all looked based on their hairstyle, hair color, skin color, their clothing, and voice.
In his head, they were all scrunching up their faces and giving him a look as if they wanted to kill him.
'Good. Give them a common enemy to talk about, a form of motivation! Time to sweeten the pot.'
He thought.
"That's how much you've fucked up. Luckily for you guys, the Inquisition doesn't let go of its members, no matter how bad they are. The most that would happen is you'd get sent to the frontline somewhere to die, or stuck in a room filing papers all day long with no prospects of ever leaving."
He turned his attention to Lyra, the only one that had something to report.
"Go back to that brothel and interview Lilith, along with every other Courtesan there if you have to. Find out why she rejected Chris, if he's a regular, if anyone new showed up. I want everything she's got, and I want to know who her customers are in case this turns out to be some conflict over a brothel whore."
Lyra nodded once, and Veron turned his gaze to the man with the purple raindrop mask.
"Go through Chris' life, what kind of mage was he, what spells could he use, who was guarding him. I want you to become the man, that's how much information you need to get on that piece of—"
Someone coughed once as they interrupted Veron before he could finish his sentence.
Okay, so maybe he was getting ahead of himself there.
"That noble. I don't care if he is the Duke's son, get everything on him, and anyone that would want him dead. That includes the Duke's enemies as well."
And knowing the rumors about that man, the list would not be small.
"Lastly, whoever was in charge of this case did a shit job. The rest of you go back to the scene and search for any clues. Interrogate the people that live there if you must, just get it done. We know they were killed with something sharp, meaning a high-level water or wind mage. The sort of damage done is not something a weapon is capable of, so look into all the mages in Cintra that fit those attributes. Also, fire mages, considering the state of the bodies only someone skilled would be able to burn them like that. Meaning this wasn't a single person, we are looking for two or more culprits."
The Inquisitors and novices murmured their understanding.
"Well, get to it. You're dismissed."
Veron told them.
"Ah, you wait."
He pointed to the novice who spoke earlier.
The novice paused and walked over to Veron.
"I want you to find out who the mystery woman is. Not much to go on by the state she was burned, but I'm sure you'll figure something out. You have a week."
The novice nodded, but inside he was regretting his life. He graduated at the top of his class and had high hopes for a military career. So, how did he end up here?
Better yet, what did he do to catch the attention of High Inquisitor Veron?
Being singled out by an Inquisitor was nothing special, but a High Inquisitor? It was something other novices told him was never a good thing. Now he could understand why.
You would be given the crappiest job and expected to complete it with a smile on your face. Even better, you had zero information to go off on and expected to finish it as soon as possible. Which made no sense.
'Shit.'
He thought to himself as he turned to leave.
Luckily, High Inquisitor Veron had not asked for his name.
"Novice, what is your name?"
"Laurence… sir."
Laurence almost forgot to add the last bit as he feared revealing his name to the High Inquisitor more so than the respect he should show at all times. Because a High Inquisitor knowing his name meant that person would have an interest in him.
An interest a novice like himself who had only been in the Inquisition for two years should never have.
He knew the moment he spoke his name he was royally fucked.
No more would he be just a novice among other novices.
How he wished he could turn back the hand of time back to when he was in training at the academy. He'd make sure to stay out of the limelight, so he'd never have been hand-picked to join this organization.
"Laurence huh? That's a good name, very plain. I expect good things from you Laurence."
Laurence gripped his hand behind his back so tight it started to turn red.
'It's over. My life is over.'
He thought before High Inquisitor Veron dismissed him.
**********
Cintra, 21st of Suncrest, year 305 UC
Veron sat at the head of the table, his fingers drumming impatiently. Six Inquisitors occupied the seats around him. Along the walls, novices stood at attention, three for each Inquisitor present.
As Lyra began her repor. She spoke of Lilith, the courtesan at the center of their investigation.
"Lilith is quite popular among the nobility. But what's more interesting is that Chris owed the establishment a significant sum - ten platinum coins, to be exact."
Lyra stated.
Veron's eyebrows raised behind his mask. Ten platinum coins were nothing to snuff at. Just how much were they charging him?
'More importantly, how does this Lilith look for a person to accumulate this much debt?'
He made a mental note to check her out for himself at a later date.
"That's quite the debt. Continue."
Lyra nodded.
"Lilith confirmed that Chris was a regular, exclusively requesting her services. She also mentioned that while many were dissatisfied with the Duke's son, none seemed brave or foolish enough to act on those feelings."
As Lyra continued her report, detailing the lack of new customers and the corroborating statements from other courtesans, Veron found himself thinking he should invest in opening a brothel. His pay was less than what they were making, and that was saying something considering he was paid an absurd amount for the work he did.
"I also uncovered information about the tavern Chris visited after leaving the brothel."
Lyra added.
"He was ejected for causing a disturbance. Interestingly, the establishment is owned by another noble - a woman."
Veron straightened in his chair.
"A woman, you say?"
"Yes. Her name is Lady Elara Blackthorn. According to my sources, Chris had shown interest in her, but it was entirely one-sided. In fact, Lady Blackthorn was quoted as saying she'd 'rather marry a crazed dog than that fool of a man.'"
A laughter rippled through the room, and Veron held up a hand for silence.
"Interesting. Any connection between Lady Blackthorn and the murder?"
Lyra shook her head.
"Nothing concrete, sir. But her disdain for Chris was well-known."
He turned to the Inquisitor with the purple raindrop mask. "What have you discovered about Chris' life and abilities?"
The Inquisitor cleared his throat.
"Chris Victor was a mid-level water mage, sir. He specialized in manipulating liquids, particularly alcohol. It seems he used his abilities more for parlor tricks at parties than anything substantial."
Veron snorted.
"Typical noble wastrel. Any enemies, or people of note?"
The man shook his head.
"Well, I hope you at least prepared a detailed document on his life because you're basically telling me you have nothing to note."
Before the man could respond, Veron turned his attention to the novice whose name he had come to know.
"Like Laurence here. Bright, young, and ambitious. He found what the rest of you were lacking. The identity of the unknown woman. Laurence, if you will."
Laurence felt a cold sweat slide down his back. He did not like being called out like this, not in front of so many people. Especially when the person Veron talked down on was his immediate superior.
'Shit.'
Laurence thought as he knew after this meeting was over he'd get an earful for overdoing his work and making the Inquisitor look bad. Other novices he thought he was friends with would dodge him.
No one wanted to get on the bad side of someone higher ranked than them.
Laurence cleared his throat nervously before addressing the room.
"The woman's name was Kimberly Kelly, age 27. She worked at Eaglewood Orphanage and was single, never having married. According to church records, she had taken a vow of celibacy and appeared to be incapable of bearing children."
"Ms. Kelly was born in Cintra and was a low-tier water mage, capable of using her magic for minor healing. She never attended a magic academy, and the Inquisition had previously deemed her as a non-threat."
Veron was impressed at the work of the novice.
"Impressive work, Laurence. Where did you uncover all this information?"
"From the archives, sir. They store records on all known mages, even those considered harmless."
Veron nodded approvingly.
At least the young man knew how to work smarter and not harder. He knew he had chosen right when he assigned Laurence to the task.
'Now if only the others were just as smart.'
"Do we know why she was there that night?"
Laurence hesitated before answering.
"I'm not certain, sir. However, it was known at the orphanage that she showed favoritism to a child named Bryan. He was dropped off as a baby during the blood moon years ago."
Veron's body tensed, though his mask concealed any change in expression. The blood moon was five years ago, and no one was to be outdoors wandering around.
Yet, someone dropped off a child.
Now that was interesting.
"You've done excellent work, Laurence."
He turned to address the rest of the group.
"Be more like Laurence and continue your investigations. There may still be hope for you all yet."
Veron's gaze swept across the room, settling on a young female novice.
"You."
He pointed at her.
"Will go undercover with Laurence. Your mission is to adopt a child from the orphanage and gather more information."
Laurence wasn't upset about the assignment, knowing that the organization would provide them with skin masks to conceal their true appearances. At least, he hoped that would be the case.
The female novice stepped forward.
"Yes, sir."
She said.
"You'll pose as a married couple looking to adopt. Pay close attention to any mentions of Bryan or Ms. Kelly. We need to understand the connection between them and how it relates to Chris Victor's murder."
Laurence and the female novice exchanged glances.
He hoped that she wouldn't be old. There were cases of novices being in their thirties and still at the bottom of the organization. He himself was only twenty-one.
It'd be insane if he had to pretend to be married to someone in their late thirties or even forties. That'd cause more eyes to be on him than he needed. Especially because he posed as a shoemaker during his normal life.
How would he have to explain a sudden marriage to his co-workers?
**********
Cintra, 3rd of Brightforge, year 305 UC
Veron retreated to his private chambers and he approached a small pedestal in the corner of the room, upon which rested a crystal orb. With a deep breath, he placed his hand on the smooth surface, channeling a small amount of ether into it.
The orb pulsed with a soft blue light before an image materialized within its depths. Grand Inquisitor Kayle's masked face appeared, the background behind him a dimly lit office.
"High Inquisitor Veron."
Kayle's voice resonated from the orb.
"I trust you have new information to report?"
Veron nodded.
"Indeed, Grand Inquisitor. We've made progress in the Chris Victor case."
He proceeded to relay the details of their investigation, including the connection to Kimberly Kelly and the orphanage.
"There's a child of particular interest, sir. A boy named Bryan, who was abandoned at the orphanage during a blood moon five years ago."
Kayle's posture stiffened visibly within the orb.
"Go on."
"We have no sightings of the boy so far, but his appearance is... unique."
Veron continued.
"He's described as having white hair, red eyes, and pale skin. Given these distinctive features, I believe it would be prudent to inform the other High Inquisitors in neighboring towns. In case the child has somehow escaped Cintra."
The image in the orb shifted as Kayle leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled before his mask. A long moment of silence stretched between them before he spoke.
"Your request is denied, High Inquisitor Veron."
Kayle said.
"This information is to remain strictly within Cintra for now."
Veron's brow furrowed behind his mask.
"But sir, if the boy has fled—"
"I said no, Veron."
Kayle interrupted sharply.
"Continue your investigation as planned. Focus on uncovering the connection between this child, the orphanage worker, and Chris Victor's murder."
'Such an asshole.'
Veron nodded, suppressing his frustration.
"Understood, Grand Inquisitor."
"Good."
Kayle said.
"I'll be in touch."
Before Veron could respond, the image in the orb flickered and faded, leaving him staring at his own reflection in the crystal's surface.
Why was Kayle so interested in keeping this information contained?
**********
Cintra, 14th of Brightforge, year 305 UC
Veron sat in his office, his mind wandering from the tedious paperwork before him. In a moment of childish distraction, he began stacking cups, seeing how high he could build his precarious tower. Just as he placed the final cup atop his creation, the crystal orb on his desk suddenly illuminated with a soft blue glow.
Startled, Veron's hand jerked, sending the tower of cups clattering across his desk and onto the floor.
"Fuck me."
Cursing under his breath, he scrambled to answer the call, his heart racing as he placed his hand on the orb's smooth surface.
Grand Inquisitor Kayle materialized within the crystal.
Veron noticed Kayle's gaze flicker briefly to something behind him, and he realized that a few cups remained visible on his desk.
He swiftly swept them out of sight.
An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment before Kayle spoke.
"I trust I'm not interrupting anything important, High Inquisitor Veron?"
"Not at all, Grand Inquisitor, I was just... reviewing some documents."
Veron replied.
Kayle nodded.
"Very well. I'm calling to inquire about any updates on the child's whereabouts. Have you made any progress?"
'No, because a certain someone wouldn't give any help at all. Denying my request to expand the search outside the city. So, how do you expect me to find a child in a city filled with tens of thousands of people? Where people come and go every day.'
Veron thought.
"I'm afraid not, sir. We've exhausted our leads in Cintra, the boy seems to have vanished without a trace."
Kayle's voice lowered.
"I see. In light of this situation, I've received new orders from above. We are to eliminate all those involved in this matter."
Veron felt a chill run down his spine.
"Eliminate, sir? Are you certain?"
Elimination was not something unusual for their organization, it happened in high-profile cases. But it generally stayed restricted to specific targets.
Grand Inquisitor Kayle did not give any specifics, meaning it was a general order. All those involved or connected had to go.
'Maybe… I've been taking this case too lightly…'
There were not too many cases of a general elimination order being issued. Mostly because they were secretive and left a wake of corpses.
The last one Veron was a part of was the case with Thal'Kudar. That one case had more than a hundred deaths involved, just in the clean-up. Not counting the bodies involved in taking him down.
Not that the clean-up did anything but drive the man insane.
Veron assumed it was what caused Thal'Kudar to go as far as sink an entire city.
Veron thought as it made no sense for the King to issue this decree. Whatever was happening in the capital was something he should have paid attention to.
'And the death of a duke's son is not a good look.'
Veron thought.
This case was screwed, and if he had any time left it had already run out. Now, he had to clean up.
Leave no witnesses.
No one who would be able to come out and speak against the duke's son in case things escalated within the court.
This entire case would be swept under the rug, and the death would be blamed on someone else.
A win for the Inquisition, a win for the King.
"Yes, Veron. The order comes from the highest authority. You have six days to complete this task."
Veron liked how the Grand Inquisitor said he had six days when they were in the same organization. If things went sideways, he'd get blamed for everything that happened going forward.
'Welp, they always said retirement meant you'd be disposable. Guess this is what they meant when they tried to keep me in.'
He had carried out such orders before, but something about this felt different. The involvement of a child, the mysterious circumstances surrounding the case – it all left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Understood, Grand Inquisitor."
Veron replied.
"We'll begin preparations immediately."
Kayle nodded, his image already beginning to fade from the orb.
"Good. Remember, Veron – six days. Not a moment longer."
**********
Cintra, 29th of Brightforge, year 305 UC
Veron stood outside the orphanage. The night was young, and a small crowd had gathered.
Veron paid them no mind.
He had been putting off this moment, dreading it with every fiber of his being.
Killing a tavern owner or a popular courtesan was one thing - simple, almost routine.
But children?
The thought of it made his stomach churn. He knew that after this night, sleep would become a distant memory.
With a heavy heart, Veron gave the order.
"Board up the place, Leave no exits."
He commanded.
His subordinates moved swiftly. Some of them had spoken out against this when he told them what they were to do, but the Inquisition had a certain way of dealing with those who did not obey.
In a matter of minutes, the orphanage was completely sealed. Veron hoped that the children would die quickly, spared from prolonged suffering, but he knew better.
The reality would be far crueler.
The crowd grew restless, murmurs rippling through the gathered citizens. Yet, no one moved to intervene.
Veron stepped towards the orphanage, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He steeled himself, reminding himself of his duty, of the orders he had to follow.
"Let this be a lesson."
He proclaimed, his voice carrying across the hushed crowd.
"You can't run, you can't hide. The truth shall be revealed, and all sinners will be punished. Such as it has been decreed."
As the last word left his lips, the orphanage erupted into flames.
Veron's hands tightened behind his back, his knuckles white beneath his gloves. The act he had just committed seared itself into his mind, a memory he knew would haunt him for the rest of his days.
Turning to the crowd, Veron's voice took on a cold tone.
"If you want to watch so badly, then stay and watch. Let the screams be etched into your soul."
The air soon filled with the agonized cries of the trapped children, their desperate pleas for help piercing the night.
Veron turned to Lyra.
"We are to watch the place. Keep an eye out for anyone suspicious."
He instructed.