I walked through the narrow corridors, accompanied by the young Solar Paladin.
The insides of the temple, at least the ones I saw, looked somewhat modest compared to the spire.
After a few turns, two staircases, and one moderately long hall, I found myself in a large room, with a wide spiral staircase circling it along its walls.
“Junior brother! May the sun shine upon you. What brings you here at this hour?”
An older paladin stood at the precipice of the arc leading to the stairway, wearing a set of plate armor similar to Roderick, the paladin from the interrogation, a large metal shield strapped to his back. He was leaning on the bright brown hilt of a long sword, made of unusual metal with a faint yellow hue.
“Senior brother. This man was summoned by His Eminence.”
The young paladin beside me extended the sun-shaped token received from me earlier, together with the arcane lens.
“I have already verified its authenticity, and he had answered the security questions correctly.”
“I see.”
The older paladin threw a quick glance through the lens, but did not bother questioning me again.
“Good job. You may hand me his weapon, and escort him to the reception room.”
Joshua nodded, handing him my sword, and the paladin moved aside, allowing entrance into the spire.
“Let us go.”
Together with the paladin, I began ascending the stairway.
The walls of the second floor (or would this be the fourth one?) were adorned with beautiful murals and symbols, and the sunlight passing through the topaz-colored mosaic glass (although at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if it was made of actual topaz) created a truly unique atmosphere.
There was a single priest at the edge of the room, kneeling in prayer, but he did not react to our presence, nor did we bother him before ascending higher.
The next floor, which grew slightly narrower, had a few reading tables, and its walls were covered in tall bookshelves, likely containing holy religious scriptures.
Two more priests sat here, both engrossed in their reading. One of them threw a curious glance our way before getting back to his book.
The following room had a few plain benches at its side, as well as a few low tables before them, akin to those you’d find in the waiting room of many garages or dental offices. On each table were a few copies of the same book, with the Holy Sun symbol on their light-brown cover, hinting at them being the core scripture of the Sun Goddess.
“Wait here.”
The upper stairway was fenced off, with an ornamental metal gate blocking the path to the next floor.
The gate had no keyhole near the lock – instead, it had some kind of strange contraption.
The paladin brought my token to the gate, and a soft orange light shone through the fissures along the metal surface.
Then, the paladin’s hand suddenly shone with faint yellow light, bright and warm like that of the morning sun. As he brought it closer to the lock, the light emitted by the latter attained a similar color, and the gate opened without a touch.
I didn’t even attempt to look at it through my Arcane Sense – I already learned it was impossible to see through the layers of metal, and discern what was going on underneath.
Even if I could, I had a feeling something like this was so far beyond my understanding that I wouldn’t be able to even begin studying its design – not in the short activation window, at the very least.
After a few minutes, the paladin returned, inviting me to ascend to the next floor.
“May the light shine upon you, young man. I am Tristan Sunborn, a high priest of The Lady Of Light, Selenia, ”
This floor was the aforementioned reception room.
In the far side of the room stood a large statue, high enough to nearly touch the 3-meter tall ceiling. It was made of pearl-white stone with an orange hue.
The statue depicted a slender woman with long wavy hair, dressed in robes gently flowing against her figure.
Her expression was filled with compassion and warmth, and her eyes looking down at the entrance - where I stood - with benevolence.
There were a few comfortable armchairs near the wall closer to the stairway I came up from. However, the man awaiting my arrival was standing under the statue, his eyes looking into my very soul.
“I, Sebastian, greet the High Priest of the Sun Temple.”
Trying my best to perform a courteous bow, which I witnessed being used by the people in this city to show respect to those of significantly higher standing, I extended my greetings to the old man before me.
At first glance, he looked no different from any of the other priests, except for the golden lines running through his light yellow robes being slightly more defined.
His short white hair, average stature, wrinkled face and the warm gaze in his blue eyes – all his features made him give off the feeling of a kind old grandpa.
However, one with sufficient perception could not help but notice the profound depth beyond those eyes, and the sheer weight of their gaze, that of a man who had been through countless tribulations in his long life, including those of massive scale – and overcame each and every one.
What's more, as someone who had reached the very peak of the 2nd Awareness realm, I could feel with certainty – the man before me possessed Awareness far greater than my own, putting it in the 3rd Realm, if not higher. Before his all-encompassing gaze, I felt almost bare, as if every secret I possessed would be dragged into the light sooner rather than later.
“Be at ease, Sebastian.”
The faint smile on the priest's face, reflecting the warmness of his gaze, flickered with benevolent amusement.
“Are your secrets not the very reason you came to stand before me?”
I tried not to let the astonishment show on my face. Was the old man actually reading my mind?
“No, I do not possess the ability to read your thoughts.”
The old Sun Priest was clearly enjoying himself.
“I have met many-a-man, some with sight sharper than yours. I’m certain you, too, will have seen most conceivable reactions, once you reach my age.”
The priest's soft chuckle contained no ridicule, and his tone was that of an old teacher sharing his life wisdom with a young child.
However, a moment after his last words - about me reaching his age - I noticed a glimmer of genuine sadness flashing in his eyes. I didn't like it one bit.
The priest stood in silence for a few moments, before a different type of sorrow washed over his eyes.
“I’ve been told you were the one to see Amelia in her final moments. Both before her murder, and before her departure from this world.”
I took a deep, painful breath, but found my composure by the time I exhaled.
“Yes. Wait- her murder
and
her departure? Are they not the same thing?”
The head priest gave me a kind smile.
“It is true that the soul departs our world shortly after the light of life is extinguished. However, just like Our Lady, in her boundless mercy, may grant her most devoted priests the right to bring a soul back from the precipice of the afterlife, so exist other means - far more devious and wretched - to interfere with its peaceful departure.”
The old man’s gaze turned solemn, as his eyes once again looked into mine.
“The oathbreaker had bound Amelia's soul to her mortal shell, delaying its release into Our Lady's warm embrace. Had he been given more time, the vile god of undeath might have granted him enough power to condemn her soul to an eternity of torment.”
The head priest placed his hand on my shoulder – although its grip was light, and its touch was warm, for some reason, it felt incredibly heavy.
“You might believe, deep in your heart, that your lack of vigilance, or perhaps haste, led to her death – but that belief could not be farther from the truth. You might think you failed to save her, but in essence, your actions delivered her soul from a fate far worse than death.”
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I lowered my eyes, unable to bear his gaze.
“From the bottom of my heart – I thank you for what you've done. And I am certain she is by the Shining Lady's side now, thankful as well.”
“...”
I couldn't find any words to say, so I simply stood before the old man in silence, as if rooted in place, until I felt his hand withdraw.
I still wasn't fine with her death – it'd be strange if it only took a dozen days for that wound to heal. Yet, right now, I felt yet another portion of the weight being lifted off my chest.
“Now, let us get to the matter at hand, for it is now your soul that requires salvation.”
Finally, it was time to get some answers.
***
“Stay.”
Upon uttering a single word, he reached for the sewer manhole lid.
clank
!
His dark shadow flashed from below, appearing in a filthy alley.
thud
!
Before the metal lid settled on the cracked pavement, it was pushed back to its rightful position.
Without a moment's delay, the former leader of the Undercity Hounds made his way to the nearby inn – one he had visited earlier today.
“Is he back yet?”
Upon entering the door, and making sure none of the nearby customers was nearby, he got straight down to business, as the ill-fated innkeeper tended up once again.
“He… yes. The bard has.. just returned to his room.”
Not even trying to put up resistance this time, the dwarf simply gave him the room number.
The sun was still up, even if close to the horizon, but the bard seemed to have returned early – or just in time, depending on the point of view.
“Who is it?”
“Greetings, friend! I was told you are taking commissions. Can I tell you about my Tavern?”
The half-elf's voice was uncharacteristically lively – and the act was masterfully performed, to the extent that only the most perceptive and experienced of people would notice the deception.
“Oh! By all means!”
It was evidently enough to fool the bard beyond the door, who quickly unlocked it, coming face to face with his visitor. His excited gaze quickly turned into confusion.
“I’m sorry… are you sure you are in the righ- Hmph!”
The man quickly slid through the door, covering the halfling's mouth and placing a short sword to his throat in a single motion.
“Make any sound louder than a whisper, and that’ll be the last sound you make. Do you understand?”
Only once Pinpin vigorously nodded, his eyes still open in surprise and fear, did the dagger withdraw.
“I will ask you a few questions. Answer truthfully and you shall never see me again. Lie… and you'll wish you’d never seen me at all.”
“Y-yes! I'll answer! Whatever it is that someone like me can tell you, I will!”
Despite the high pitched, clearly scared tone, the halfling's voice was hushed enough for the half-elf to stay his blade.
“Two days ago, at dinner. You spoke to someone. Can you tell me who it was?”
The halfling's eyes narrowed in thought, before opening wide in recollection.
“Ah! The bandaged man!.. H-he.. called himself Seb.”
“What did you talk about?”
“He asked me.. he asked me to talk in private. Promised he'd pay me for information! N-nothing secret, though!.. Just some inns!”
“Some inns…”
Throughout all this time, the half-elf was keenly observing the short man before him.
His mannerisms were theatrical, and his reactions could be considered overly exaggerated. However, the half-elf knew full-well the stereotypes around the curious and energetic halflings, as well as those typical to bards.
If this behaviour would be suspicious for a burly human Warrior, for the short man in front of him, it was par for the course.
“Which inns?”
“M-many inns! He asked for the top 5 inns I recommend in each district. I thought he was actually a very misunderstood inn critic!”
sigh
After looking at the halfling for a few more seconds, the half-elf exhaled in exasperation.
It was clear his target expected this investigation, and tried to muddy the waters by disseminating worthless information. He wouldn't get anything of use from this annoying manlet.
“Show me to his room.”
Of course, he still threw out one last test, as he had already got the room number from the innkeeper, double-checking its correctness against the records.
The halfling scrambled to the door, leading him to the correct room.
“Go. Don't let me see you again tonight.”
While the half-elf was annoyed with this blabbering halfling, the thought of killing an innocent civilian didn't linger in his mind.
On one hand, killing those who complied was far less beneficial than letting them spread the organization’s name, and attest to them keeping their word.
On the other hand, killing regular citizens, especially those whose name was likely well known in a few taverns, was different from killing rival gang members or professionals such as mercenaries and adventurers.
The latter would likely be overlooked by the watch, and even if it led to an investigation, it'd be only for appearance’s sake. Of course, their friends and organizations would remain something to contend with, but the Crimson Shadows never shied away from this type of fight.
The former could lead to more serious attention from the law keepers of this city, which was not something worth attracting without a good enough reason.
Fweeeeet
!
After entering the room and approaching the window, a short, sharp whistle pierced the twilight air. Within less than a minute, six men and six beasts came into his view. At a wave of his hand, they began moving again, and soon, the corridor outside Sebastian’s old room became incredibly packed.
Throughout the commotion, not a single other person came up the stairs, nor did any of the door rooms open. The innkeeper likely warned anyone who came in, and those in their rooms probably knew it was better not to stick their nose out in this kind of situation.
“What would you have us do, sir?”
The current boss, Claw, asked the former one.
“This is the room where he stayed two days ago. Prime your hounds.”
“Yes, sir. Boy! Trace!”
At his command, the hideous creature beside the man raised its head, moving it from side to side as it carefully sniffed the air, and filling the room with the rattling sound of steel chains – a thick chain connected to the massive collar made of similar alloy around its neck.
Soon after, the rest of the gang members did the same, letting each ‘dog’ enter the room one by one.
“Let's go.”
The half-elfs led the men outside, not sparing a glance for the clearly relieved innkeeper. He led his entourage to a nearby alley.
“He most likely shed blood here.”
“Boy! Sharpen trace!”
“Arf!”
The biggest creature, belonging to the leader, sniffed the air, before quickly moving to smell a particular spot on the ground – although none of them knew it, this was the spot where the thug's blade pierced Sebastian’s upper arm and shoulder.
The rest of the pack followed their leader without being told separately.
“All done, sir.”
“Good. Now listen well – I will tell you about the target.”
All six men quickly gathered around him, ears peeled.
“You recognize this place, do you not?”
“Yes, sir. Those youngsters moved in here a few months ago. Ha! Pups call themselves The Mad Dogs. Not worthy of the name, but they have some grit, I'll give'em that.”
“We took them in not long ago. And two days ago, they were killed, down to the last man.”
The expression on all six faces turned a shade darker.
“The perpetrator is a single young, black haired man who called himself Seb. He wore leather armor, with a tear near its left shoulder, where he was wounded in this fight. He also carried a two handed sword. It is most likely he is an early Silver adventurer, although he could be a particularly talented Iron one.”
The men nodded along with the explanation.
“The first thing he did after killing them was drag the bodies to the hideout over there. After looting anything that couldn't be easily traced, he spent a night in this inn, before leaving in the morning.”
Some of the gang members exchanged confused looks.
“What kind of idiot goes to the inn afterwards?”
“If he prepared a proper hideout, he could wipe the place clean!”
“Indeed. It almost sounds like…”
Tail and Bigpaw failed to see the logic behind those actions, while Claw had an idea regarding the nature of this incident.
“It’s like they fought by sheer coincidence?..”
“It would seem so.”
The half-elf readily agreed with the assessment of his replacement.
“The Dogs were capable, but they were brazen, as well. It is likely they saw an adventurer on his way to this inn, and decided to get a little bit of extra coin.”
“Fools! Someone who can afford a greatsword can’t be some greenhorn. Even if he was Bronze, was this really worth a fight to the death?”
The half-elf shrugged.
“They likely thought invoking our name would act as a deterrent. But you are right – only a fool would rely on another’s name when their own blades are too dull to back it up.”
He slowly scanned everyone once more.
“He likely came from out of town. That would explain why he went to this inn, and why our name was unknown to him.”
The man's tone grew colder.
“Regardless, his ignorance shall be his end. We might not gain anything tangible, but at least he shall serve as a good example for those who follow.”
Shadow fell upon the half-elf's eyes.
“He must have some business in this city. Even if he decided to run, the earliest caravans, to the south and to the east, leave in 4 days, at the earliest. Someone of his level wouldn't travel outside the city walls alone. Having come here first, he likely didn’t have too much coin to spare. After escaping, he must have found an inn in one of the neighboring districts.”
He turned to look at the gang leader.
“Divide your men into three pairs. One will search the gates leading to Western. Another will do the same with Eastern. Finally, the last group will track his steps from here. He might have retraced his steps, or even decided to hide under our noses, here in the slums.”
The man gave the gang members a stern look.
“If any two of you find him, do not engage. Send one of you back, while the other keeps tabs on him from a safe distance. I will await your report in the hideout in three hours. Now, go.”
“Yes sir!”
Without delay, Claw began organizing his men into pairs.
Meanwhile, the half elf turned his back on them, slowly making his way out of the alley.
A dark, sinister undercurrent flickered beneath his cold gaze.