Chapter Six: Interlude: The Artisan

Chapter Six: Interlude: The ArtisanSix months ago, in the village of Sleepy Hollow.

The flames danced in the forge to the tune of her thundering hammer.

Shadows screeched when she hit their prison. Arcane symbols etched on the steel shields surface glowed with each blow. Simmering fumes of corrupted essence coiled in the air, carried by the surging heat.

Almost done, Ka! Will roared as he stoked the heart of the forge with coal. The flames brilliance reflected in his pale blue eyes. Keep going!

Marika grunted. Shadows surged out of the shield whenever her hammer struck it, the evil infesting the metal fighting back with all its might. Her muscles strained from the repeated blows. As for the runestone used to capture the corrupted essence, it had almost turned blacker than a moonless night. She knew they should have purchased another before accepting this commission.

Can you take over the metalwork, Will? she asked her husband with sweat falling off her brow. Ill focus on the witchcrafting from now on.

Yes, of course. Her husband grabbed a pair of pincers with one hand and a hammer with the other. He held the shield in place while beating down the steel with the other. Benicio, bring your mother some fresh water.

Yes, Dad. Marikas son emerged from a corner with a cup full of liquid. He had been holding on to it for half an hour, waiting and praying for his parents to call upon him. Here it is, Mom.

Thank you, Beni. Marika set her hammer aside, grabbed the cup, and drank to her hearts content. Such was the heat in the forge that the water did little to refresh her tongue. She was used to working long hours, but right now, she wanted nothing more than to complete this job and take a bath.

Do you want me to help with the witchcrafting, Mom? Beni asked with sparkling, hopeful eyes. You look so exhausted.

Are you calling me lazy, Beni? Marika teased her son with a smirk. Fine.

Youre sure? Will asked in surprise, and a slight bit of concern.

He has trained well, Marika replied with a chuckle. Besides, she had already exorcised most of the dangerous essence. Beni would be safe.

Truly? Beni held his breath, his happiness plain on his face. The sight filled Marikas heart with warmth greater than the forges heat. Her son had been dying to practice weapon exorcism since his mother showed him the forge.

But you must do exactly as I say. Marika set her cup aside. If you disobey, you will be grounded for a week.

Beni bowed faithfully. I will not disappoint you, Mother.

She knew he wouldnt. Marika was proud of her son. He was so dutiful, so wise for his years, that she considered herself blessed. Focus with me on the flow of essence, she said. Once I separate the corruption from the healthy steel, guide the former toward the whetstone.

Mother and son raised their hands above the shield, while Will kept hammering it. Witchcrafting, the process of manipulating essence, usually followed three steps: separation, transportation, and finally, infusion.

The first step was the most difficult, so Marika managed it on her own. Activating her special sight, she pierced the veil of the physical world to see the hidden truths unfurl. The shield before her no longer appeared to her as a rectangular sheet of steel laced with gold, but as a gleaming sea of silvery metal essence marred by black spots of darkness. The malice of dead monsters whose claws and fangs had crashed against the pavise took root in it like an infection. Though the corruption stood out from the metal, the two had intermingled for so long that they had become one and the same.

Her husbands hammers blows caused the essence to ripple and weakened the shadows hold. Waving her hands to guide the flow of essence, Marika excised the last seeds of blackness. She heard hisses and growls of dead monsters echo in the back of her mind. Like ticks anchoring themselves into a host, the stains fought back against Marikas attempt to excise them. They failed nonetheless.

Then came the second part of witchcrafting: transportation. Unleashed essence always sought to merge back with solid matter. Without guidance, it would anchor itself to the closest vessel. The corruption attempted to latch onto Marikas hands, to possess her.

Beni immediately acted. Months after months of practice paid off as he expertly guided the stained essence away from his mother. Marika could only smile with pride; she had half-expected to need to intervene, but her son seemed more than capable of handling the corruption on his own.

The last step, infusion, was the easiest. Essence naturally sought to anchor itself to matter, so the corruption easily glided into the nearby runic whetstone. Infusing disparate essences into a coherent whole usually demanded great skill, but exorcists runestones were specifically prepared to absorb and contain evil power. The last specks of blackness were sealed at long last.

Ive done it! Beni boasted with pride. Ive done it!

Good job, Beni, Marika patted her son on the hair. Now its your fathers turn to work his magic.

Wills chuckle rang louder than the clang of his hammer. His powerful strokes finished bending the shield back into its proper shape. Not a single scar marred its smooth surface.

Done, he said before tossing away the pincers and grabbing the shield in their stead. How do I look?

Knightly, Marika teased him. With a shield and hammer in hands, and his muscles rippling beneath his overalls, her husband truly appeared like a warrior of legends. His blonde hair and beard were already showing some gray, but it only added to his charm in his wifes mind. Would you like to squire for your father, Beni?

Nah, Beni replied with a frown. I want to learn magic!

Rejected by my own son. Will laughed heartily. And hes already twice the wizard I am.

Dont sell yourself short, Will. Marika kissed her husband on his sweaty cheek. Youre a magician where it counts.

To manipulate essence, a human needed to undergo the Awakening Ritual; a costly process only truly available to the wealthy or Witchcrafting Guilds. Marika had been lucky enough to be taken by the latter as an apprentice in her youth, but Will never had that chance. A decade of assisting his wife with her exorcism work gave him slight sensitivity to essence. Little else.

None had been more surprised than Marika when Benicio showed witchcrafting aptitude in his early childhood. She knew having a witchcrafter parent increased chances for a child to awaken naturally, but the odds were extremely slim. She often wondered if Will had a mage or two in his ancestry.

In any case, Im happy this is over, Marika said while examining the shield. I hate family heirlooms. They always carry so much baggage.

At least this shield saw use, Will mused while putting it aside. From what Ser Hugo told me, it first tasted battle at the Sea of Flames seventy years ago.

I can believe it, Marika replied. Most of the corruptive essence came from monsters, but she had sensed human malice here and there. Beni, would you kindly go to the inn and inform Ser Hugo that his shield is ready?

Yes, Mother. Beni nodded dutifully and then bolted out of the workshop.

What a little spitfire, Will said. Marika shivered upon sensing her husbands hand moving to her waist and pulling her into his embrace. You were amazing, Ka.

Youre not too bad yourself, Marika replied with a chuckle as he kissed her on the cheek. I daresay youve become the best blacksmith in the Riverland.

Second-best, her husband pointed out charmingly. You outshine me as the sun compares to the stars.

Good answer. She briefly kissed him on the lips. They tasted of salt with all the sweat on them. Want to take a bath with me? Im exhausted.

I knew you had an ulterior motive for sending Beni away, Will teased her. Ill heat up the water immediately.

Good, good. Marikas smirk faded away when her son returned to the forge with a serious look on his face. What is it, Beni? Have you forgotten something?

Beni shook his head. There is a strange mister waiting outside. A customer.

A customer? At this hour? The faint light through the forges only window indicated the sunset was upon them. Will and Marika exchanged a glance before following Beni outside.

A stranger waited for them on the houses threshold next to a large wooden chest.

Marika had never seen a man so tall as this one. The stranger pushed nearly eight feet, forcing him to bend his neck to prevent his head from hitting the ceiling. Even Will, who was already a head taller than his wife, looked like a child in comparison. The strangers lean, lanky body reminded Marika of a scarecrow. From his elegant purple wool jacket, beige pants, rounded hat, and fine leather boots, he was probably a well-off denizen from Tradewind. A few of them often made the trip to Sleepy Hollow for special commissions.

Fancy meeting you here, fellas, the stranger said with a cheerful, jovial voice. His smile was almost infectious, though something about his golden, mischievous eyes left Marika uneasy. That shade was quite rare in the Riverland Federation. How was the battle?

Marika frowned in confusion. The battle?

I could hear the thundering clang of clashing shields and weapons from here! The gentleman chuckled. The two of you look like great warriors back from a victorious campaign!

You could say that, Will replied warmly. He was the one used to handling customers; Marika herself preferred to work rather than chat. We blacksmiths shed metal rather than blood though.

And Im sure the world would be a better place if warriors did the same! The stranger laughed warmly. The best battles are those waged on boards and theater scenes, wouldnt you agree?

Sure, Will replied with a grin. Might I ask your name?

Oh, forgive my impertinence, I forgot to introduce myself. The man raised his hat slightly. My name is Jean Chastel. I am a humble merchant and servant to a fair lady of the realm. My employer heard tales that you were the finest weapon exorcists in our dear Federation.

Quite the flatterer, arent you? Marika snorted, though the mans outlandish behavior did amuse her a bit. Have you come for a commission?

Straight to business? Fine, fine, I appreciate your bluntness. The man sat next to his wooden chest. My lady would like to hire you to exorcise and repair an inheritance.

Curses swirled out of the chest the moment Chastel opened the lid.

Marika recoiled in surprise. A cloud of thick essence miasma erupted into the room, thicker than smoke and fouler than rotten flesh. She choked on a sinister stench of burning wood, on the taste of blood on her tongue. Benicio, who possessed the same essence sensitivity as his mother but little of her fortitude, turned pale and still. Marika instinctively put a hand on his chest and pulled him behind her.

Will frowned as he gazed into the chest. What is this? he wondered. I can sense I can sense it.

Terrifying, is it not? Chastel mused. He alone appeared unaffected. We call it the Chained Blade.Embark on an odyssey to the core at Nøv€lß¡n#★

Marika dared to peek into the chest. A two-hand claymore of black, stainless metal lay within. The blade was long enough to cut a horse in half, yet slim as a paper sheet. The cross-shaped hilt included dagger-like edges on the side, sinuous arcane symbols representing swirling flames, and an empty hole that probably used to house a jewel of some kind. Steel chains laced with runestones tightly bound the sword and they coiled around the blade and kept the evil within tightly shut.

Marika immediately recognized this contraption. When weapon exorcists failed to purge corrupted essence from a vessel, the next best thing was simply making sure it couldnt spill out. Binding chains and seals could make a cursed weapon relatively harmless. These were the most complex she had seen in her career.

And they still failed to completely seal the corrupted essence.

The chains are made of runesteel. Will marveled as he examined the swords blade. It was dented in some parts and weathered by time, but still in a surprisingly good shape for a weapon so terrible. The sword is made of soulforged adamantine too Incredible

Soulforged adamantine? Marika could hardly believe her own husband. Thats impossible. There isnt enough of it in the world to make a dagger, let alone a sword.

There isnt now, Chastel said with a chuckle. This weapon goes back to the Age of Wonders.

The one that came before the Age of Sorrow. The forgotten time when ancient civilizations ruled Pangeal. Only ruins buried deep beneath the earth after the Demon Ancestors laid waste to them remained. This weapon was over seven hundred years old.

Its warm, Mother, Benicio whispered in dread.

Hes right, Marika realized. When she dared to approach the chest closer, she immediately sensed the temperature rising. It wasnt the comforting warmth of a hearth nor the searing heat of the forge, but something else. Something nefarious. This sword is infused with fire essence but not the kind Ive ever seen.

This sword belonged to a great hero who cut down countless evil beings during the Sunderwar. Unfortunately, you can see the toll it took on the sword. Chastel crossed his arms. My lady has contacted many exorcists to return it to its former glory. A difficult task, Im sure youd agree. So far none has succeeded in fulfilling her wish.

I can imagine why, Marika muttered to herself. For the sealing contraptions to fail in keeping the essence sealed, the evil within had to be unfathomably powerful. This sword must have killed thousands

It has. Chastel closed the chests lid. The sinister pressure around the forge lessened, but did not entirely clear. So, do you think you can tackle my ladys request?

Marika clenched her jaw. She wasnt one to back down from an exorcism, but this weapon was dangerous. Draining away the darkness that infected it would be a long, arduous task, even with assistants.

Im not sure, Marika admitted. I can see why so many failed to purify that sword. To do so safely will take a very, very long time and a great deal of effort. Just the number of runestones required to drain the curses

My lady understands that, Chastel replied with a reassuring grin. She is willing to offer an advance payment to both cover extra costs and ensure that you fully focus on the task.

Will frowned. How much?

Mmm, how about five thousand gold? Would that be enough payment?

Marika choked at the number, while Will stood there in mute disbelief.

F-five thousand? Marika repeated, believing she had misheard. Thats a fortune!

I have deep, deep pockets, and my lady will settle for nothing less than state of the art quality, Chastel confirmed with an amused laugh. He searched inside his coat and brought out a clanging purse. I can give you half of it now, and the other half will be given when the sword is restored. Can you finish the job in three months? My lady understands that good work requires time, but she isnt too patient either.

Chastel tossed the purse at Will, who caught it midair and swiftly opened it. Marika peeked inside to see her own reflection in more gold coins than she had ever seen in her lifetime. Husband and wife exchanged glances.

Can you give us a minute to discuss your offer between us, Mister Chastel? Will asked the customer.

Of course, of course, the grinning man replied with mischievous eyes. Plot away!

Will and Marika moved to the back of the forge. Her husband carried the coins and immediately tasted them. Theyre real, he whispered in astonishment. Five thousand

Its a kingly sum, Marika muttered. Her mind struggled to comprehend what that fortune represented. The couple considered setting aside one gold a month an achievement; a lifetime of work wouldnt let them accumulate more than a fraction of that sum. This

This was too good to be true.

Marika was a down-to-earth woman. After the mirage of greed came the skepticism. What kind of noble would pay such an extravagant sum to purify a single sword, even if it was a priceless artifact from the Age of Wonders? Chastel kept mentioning that lady of his without giving away her name. Anonymous patrons always hid something.

This commission sounds shady, Marika said. Shifty.

I know, Will replied with a deep scowl on his face. But five thousand even if we subtract the costs of reforging the blade, it would change so much for us.

Yes, it would, Marika conceded.

The couple had long considered having another child, but the discovery of Benicios gifts changed their plans. Their son showed enough aptitude to become a true witchcrafter, the kind who could shape runestones, shape elemental essence, and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Riverland Federations elite. However, tuitions at sorcery academies cost a small fortune. The couple had decided to postpone their second childs birth until they could accumulate enough funds and secure loans to pay for Benis education.

Five thousand gold changed this calculus. With such a sum, Marika and Will wouldnt have to take any loans. They could already purchase a spot for Benicio at the nearest academy, invest in a larger forge and a bigger house, secure their retirement when they grew too old to work

The risks were great, but even Marika struggled against the temptation.

Can you even repair an adamantine sword? she asked her husband.

Will bristled. Its true we dont have soulforged adamantine lying around, but I can melt and rework the blade.

Youve never tried with an alloy so complex.

Because its a once-in-a-lifetime occasion, Will replied with a hint of annoyance. Forging adamantine is every blacksmiths dream. I know my job.

Ive wounded his pride, Marika realized. Im sorry, Will, she apologized. Im not doubting your skills, Im just this is a big commission. There are challenges, and then theres that.

I understand, Will replied. But weve handled tough weapons before. Im sure we can deal with this one.

What if I fail? Marika asked nervously. We cant repay the advance. What if I fail to complete the exorcism?

You wont fail, Will reassured her. His warm hands moved to her shoulders. Youre the best exorcist in the world.

Her husbands trust in her reassured Marika. She glanced at Beni, who exchanged words with Chastel. She pictured her son dressed like a true sorcerer, crafting runestones that would adorn nobles rather than reforge weapons of war. She wanted a better future for him than the one she could offer him right now.

Maybe Will was right. Maybe this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She nodded at her husband, and the pact was sealed.

Very well, Mr. Chastel. Will shook the customers hand. We accept the challenge. Youll have your sword in three months time.

Wonderful! The mans smile finally reached his eyes. Ill watch your progress with great interest.

With half the payment available, the couple immediately went to work.

Repairing an adamantine weapon, let alone exorcising a sword filled with so much evil essence, required better equipment than they had. Will handled everything, as he usually did. He purchased better toolsthough Marika kept her trusty sledgehammer for old times sakeand more runic whetstones, upgraded the forge with a water-powered bellow, strengthened the blast furnace, and brought lumps of raw adamantine. With all their new additions their little house in Sleepy Hollow started to look like a factory.

But the moment Marika started working on the blade, she immediately realized she was out of her depth.

Just touching the swords hilt and putting it on an anvil turned out to be a chore. The sheer malice radiating from the weapon infected Marikas gloves within minutes of physical contact, forcing her to purify them in short order. Same with the anvil. A day of work was enough for the swords stray essence to grow screaming faces on the metals surface. They had to surround the anvil with four runic whetstone to prevent its complete corruption.

Ive never seen something like this, Marika muttered. Its almost like a Blights heart.

Will scowled back at her, a hammer and pincer in hand. I thought Blights only covered a location, not items.

They should, Marika confirmed while chewing her lip. Shed never heard of a weapon that accumulated so much corrupted essence that it could infect inanimate objects. The main risk of cursed weapons was of them influencing their wielders, not mutating their surroundings. Ill need to drain away the corruption in the room before we can even start working on the blade properly.

Can I help, Mom? Benicio asked. He tried to sound brave, but his mother could see the worry in his eyes. He too understood that this sword might prove more dangerous than any other cursed weapon so far.

No, absolutely not. Marika chewed her lip nervously. In fact, go outside while mom and dad work.

But I can help!

Beni Marika squinted at her son. Obey your mother, young man.

But

Another 'but' and youre grounded, Marika gently scolded him. No more hero bedtime stories either.

Benicio gulped at the threat and quickly bolted out of the forge.

Poor Beni. His father chuckled nervously. Its that bad?

It is, Marika admitted. She focused all of her attention on draining the leaking corruption into the runestones around the anvil. Foul blackness spread on their surfaces like oil on water. Can you reforge the blade without damaging the chains?

It depends. Can they stand the forges heat?

They should. From what Marika could tell, the ancient spells woven in the chains could resist almost anything. Though they failed to completely contain the swords corrosive essence, they still remained untouched by it. But you mustnt hit them. If you do, dark magic will spill out of the blade in a violent way.

Will confidently grabbed the sword and moved the blade into the heart of the forge. Marika followed after her husband, draining away the leaking essence that threatened to poison his tools and flesh.

Watching Will forge weld never failed to impress her. After heating up the blade to critical temperature, he began to carefully reshape it with hammer blows. Since he deftly avoided the sealing chains, they safely kept most of its essence contained as he worked. Will straightened the blade, joined pieces of molten adamantine lumps with the cracks along the edge, and adjusted the temperature to ensure it would merge with the metal.

They're combining nicely, Marika observed.

Soulforged adamantine doesnt differ much from normal adamantine, Will replied. Its just that the former alloy is forged in specific places sacred to the artifacts. The edges will be slightly more fragile than the parts near the fuller, but so little it wont make a difference. This thing will cut through diamonds when Im done with it.

Marika laughed at his boast. Youre the real magician here.

Alone with the sword.

The next day, Marika woke up sweating.

Her awakening was slow and laborious. Shadows blurred her vision, and a foul stench made her nauseous under the sheet. The whole bedroom was choked with infernal heat. Her mind struggled against tiredness and slumber as her eyelids slowly opened.

Ka.

Her husband was standing by the side of the bed. A shadow looming over her. It would have been comforting once, and a welcome sight. Instead, Wills silhouette felt ominous in the dim light of the candle nearby.

Im going with Chastel, he said with a happy, happy voice. The jobs not done. I need a bigger forge.

What Marika coughed. A rancid stench filled the room. What are you talking about

Lord Belgoroth is pleased with my work so far. The name sounded familiar, like an old forgotten curse, but Marika was still too drowsy to remember why. He offered to become my patron.

His patron? Marika pinched her nose to cover the smell, her eyes slowly acclimating to the luminosity. Her nostrils still hurt from their fight yesterday.

I dont need you anymore, Will said joyfully. I thought with you at my side, I could become the best. That everyone would remember me. But I was wrong. All you had over me was the magic sightyour only edgeand now I can see too. Without it, youre nothing special.

What the youre not making any sense Marika sat against a pillow and looked up at her husband. Will, youre starting to creep me

She froze at the sight.

Will held the sword in his hand, its blade drenched in blood, its edges releasing heat and smoke into the room. A bloody bandage covered his left eye. Marika wondered if he had hurt himself, until her gaze acclimated to the darkness enough to see the terrible truth.

The hole on the hilt had a new occupant. A wriggling, bloodshot red eye staring at Marika with a malevolent intelligence.

Will Marikas hand moved closer to her pillow. She slept with a dagger last night after their fight, just in case she needed to protect herself. Drop the sword

Cant. Dont you remember? You said a weapons worth is determined by its reliability. I thought it depended on how many people wanted to wield it. Will applied his finger to the swords sharp edge, drops dripping from the cut. Lord Belgoroth says a weapons worth is determined by how many lives it takes. His sword, its the most precious one in the world. A kingdoms worth of blood and pain and hate.

There was blood, yes. The chained blade was drenched in it. It couldnt all be her husbands.

Will Marika gulped as a terrible thought crossed her mind. Whose blood is it?

He smiled. A burdens.

Marika drew the dagger and stabbed her husband in the chest. The blade entered him all the way to the hilt right between the ribs. Yet smoke erupted from the wound instead of blood.

Will snarled in bestial fury, and the sword shrieked to echo his wrath. Marika bolted out of the bed and tackled her husband out of the way before he could recover. Only thought occupied her panicked mind.

Beni! Marika shouted while rushing into her sons room. Beni!

He was in the bed, bleeding out.

Marika screamed in anguish at the horrific scene. Her son, her baby boy, trembled in his bed, pallid and gasping for air. A gaping chest wound protruded from the side, a red ravine from which his very life escaped him.

Beni! Adrenaline surged through Marikas veins as her hand reached out to her wounded son. Her poor child was conscious enough to try reaching out to her with trembling fingers and tearful eyes full of fear. His breath was short, and his life hung by a thread.

Fumbling in a haze of panic, Marika pressed her hands against the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. She was no medic, no healer. All she knew was how to exorcize evil and forge metal. Shed never tried to use her gift to save another.

Marika forgot her own inexperience in her panic. She poured out her own essence, her very lifeforce, onto her childs wound. Its alright, sweetie, she whispered with trembling lips, trying to reassure her child while fighting back her own tears. Mommys here Im here

Marika heard her maddened husband lumbering behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Will raising that damned sword at her, his loving face twisted into a deranged expression of utter hatred.

Will, snap out of it! Marika shouted. She grabbed her son and backed away, leaving a crimson trail on the wooden floor. Will, that sword is corrupting you! Fight back!

He heard her words, but did not listen. I should have killed you years ago, he rasped, his last eye devoid of pity. You were just holding me back!

He lunged at her in a flash of speed and fury.

Marika would have died here and now if she had been alone. The noise of her son struggling for his life in her arms, desperately clinging to her for safety, filled her with determination. She sprinted towards the only exit in sight.

Glass shattered as Marika jumped out of the bedrooms window. She grunted in pain as she sheltered her son from glass shards, letting them cut into her flesh rather than her sons. Bedrooms were on the first floor, so she managed to land somewhat softly on the earth below.

Someone! Marika cradled her son and looked up, her maddened husband glared down at her from his elevated point. Someone help!

But no one answered.

Clinging to her son, Marika glanced at Sleepy Hollow. Smoke rose from the houses of her neighbors and Father Hugenots church on the hill, alongside the stench of charred meat. Chastel was here too, standing still near the houses threshold, overseeing the devastation with hands in his pockets.

Miss Marika. The man grinned at her with unblinking eyes. What a pleasant day, dont you think?

Marika ran. She ran towards the nearby woods as fast as her legs could carry her, each labored breath of her son another reminder that she needed to find a healer.

Jean Chastel didnt chase after her.

He just laughed.

Marika ran for hours until she reached the next village over.

She pumped her son with her essence all the way to the churchs doorstep, trading pounds of weight and flesh to knot out Benis wound. When healers came to take him away for treatment, Marika collapsed in exhaustion. The last thing she remembered before falling into unconsciousness was the inquisitors questions.

Marika woke up two days later sick in bed, in a white stone room with a couple of knights at her bedside. A blond woman with pale icy eyes and three prominent scars on her face, and a giant of a man in plate armor equipped with frightful spikes. Marika couldnt see anything past his frightful bascinet helmet and visor.

Marika Lunastello-Costa? The woman sounded cordial enough, though Marika had learned to fear what her purple plate armor represented. I am Inquisitor Gunndra. My companion is Inquisitor Cortaner. We would like to ask you some questions about the Sleepy Hollow incident.

Is is my son alive? Marika whispered, coughing in exhaustion. Benicio he was with me when

Your son is alive, Inquisitor Gunndra reassured her. These four words filled Marika with immense relief for a time. Your essence transfusions saved his life, albeit at a cost.

A cost? Marikas heart pounded like a war drum. What What cost? I dont understand.

Human-to-human essence transfers are dangerous, even between kin, Gunndra replied with a look of sympathy. The healers informed me that his body will recover, but his mind might suffer from long-lasting trauma.

Her Beni he wanted to become a magician so dearly. I I dont understand Marika muttered. I checked Will every day. I should I should have seen it coming

Will is your husbands name, is it not? Gunndra took Marikas naked hand into her armored gauntlet. Can you recount what you remember from the start? The more you can tell us, the better.

It took Marika a few minutes to fully remember everything, and half an hour to recount her tale. Gunndra listened with a sympathetic expression, alternating between asking questions and offering Marika water to drink. Inquisitor Cortaner simply crossed his arms in silence. Marika might have mistaken him for a statue if not for his occasional breathing.

Belgoroth. Inquisitor Gunndra frowned in alarm. Are you sure?

I I heard the name. In the swords memories. Remembering that terrible vision alone caused Marika a headache. Will also mentioned him in his his madness.

Inquisitor Cortaner, who had listened in silence so far, muttered to himself with a deep and terrible voice. Fear Belgoroth, lord of the berserk flame, who sets the land ablaze and sails upon a sea of blood; for his fury cannot tell friend from foe.

Belgoroth is a name only inquisitors and high-ranking members of the Abbey are allowed to learn; for to speak it alone stains the unwary soul with sin. Inquisitor Gunndra scowled. Belgoroth is the Lord of Wrath, one of the Demon Ancestors.

A Demon Ancestor? A chill traveled down Marikas spine when put two and two together. The sword

Belgoroth infamously massacred an entire city on his lonesome, using a single sword, Inquisitor Gunndra confirmed. The Blight that arose from this atrocity lingers to this day north of Archfrost. We thought the weapon was sealed and destroyed.

Do you understand what you have done? Cortaner looked down on Marika, black eyes peering through the slit in his visor. You and your husband helped repair a demonic treasure of tremendous power.

Enough, Inquisitor Gunndra scolded her colleague. Her only sin was navet, which she will commit no more.

No hes right Marika gulped in shame. She knew that commission was fishy from the start, and she still let Will convince her to take it. I I took that job.

You have done nothing wrong, Marika, Inquisitor Gunndra tried to comfort her. Chastel has tricked people far smarter than you. If you had refused to help him, he would have found another victim.

The memory of that frightful mans grin vividly came back to Marika. You you know him?

He has used many names over the years, but yes, we know Chastel. Inquisitor Gunndras lips twisted into a hateful expression, one that made her three scars all the more prominent. Now that Marika looked at them more closely, they closely reminded her of claw wounds. We suspect him to be a messenger and enforcer for a demonic cult dedicated to Belgoroth. Weve linked him to dozens of murders and disappearances across the continent.

A cultist. Marika took a commission from a demon-worshiper. I still I still dont get it, she muttered to herself, her hands clenching on the sheet. I I checked Will each day for signs of corruption. Im an exorcist. I know my job. If the sword had taken over, I should I should have seen it coming.

Cortaner snorted. One of the first things we learn as inquisitors is that no one can force someone to become a demon. One must choose to be damned, and thus pay the price.

I dont think the sword poisoned your husbands mind, Marika, Inquisitor Gunndra said. Rather, I suspect it drew out what was already simmering beneath the surface. It put coal on his angers embers and cultivated them into an inferno.

I dont need you anymore, Wills words echoed in Marikas mind. I thought with you at my side, I could become the best. That everyone would remember me. But I was wrong. All you had over me was the magic sightyour only edgeand now I can see.

Was that how her husband always felt deep down? Marika couldnt believe it. It had to be a trick of some kind. Is he

Your husband is gone, along with the sword, Cortaner replied bluntly. The cultists murdered everyone in the village before leaving. You and your son were the only survivors.

Marika froze in shock. Father Huguenot

Is dead, the inquisitor replied. Alongside ten families.

Enough! Inquisitor Gunndra glared at her colleague. Thats enough!

She must never forget, Gunndra. The man held his ground. The cost of letting a demon live.

Everyone is dead Belgoroths wicked voice echoed in Marikas mind. Dead, dead, dead

Marika? Marika?

Gunndras words became a distant echo. Marikas eyes wandered to the cold stone wall opposing her bed, focusing on every tiny detail. The cracks in the rock, the slight brown spots left by removed mold they reminded her so much of bloodstains

We will come back later, said Gunndra. Well arrange for you to visit your son as soon as he wakes up.

Her son.

Yes, she had to live for her son Beni needed her.

More than he ever did.

A man visited her after the inquisitors.

Marika didnt recognize him. He was portly and small, with a black hat and a bag full of paper. His silk handkerchief helped him remove the sweat off his brow.

First of all, Miss Lunastello-Costa, allow me to express my sympathies for your loss, the man said with a pleasant, insincere smile. I understand that considering your current state and the tragedy that befell you, it will take time before you start paying my employers back. Thankfully, some agreed to waive the interests, and we can arrange a delay

Im sorry, Marika interrupted him. You Do I know you?

No, I dont believe weve met. He shook her hand warmly. Franois Marcello. I am a professional debt-collector.

A debt-collector? The more Marika listened, the less she understood. I dont understand whose debts are you after?

Yours, Miss. And your husbands, but since he has disappeared, I cant exactly track him down.

He wasnt making any sense. We we dont have debts.

These documents say otherwise. The man opened his bag and showed her scrolls. Your husband contracted these loans in both of your names.

Marika was too exhausted to hold the papers, so Marcello moved them onto her lap and read them out loud for her. She recognized her husbands handwriting, and his signature at the end, right beneath the ones and zeroes: Will Costa.

I always let him deal with customers and suppliers, Marika thought in utter despair. She never questioned her husbands business trips to Tradewind. Sometimes he came back with commissions, sometimes not. He always smiled when he returned, and that had been enough for her. Some Some of these loans are over three years old. Three years. Three years before the sword. I never saw this money.

Your husband usually paid back older creditors with new loans. Your business had a reputation for quality and efficiency, so most of Tradewinds banks were more than willing to accept the gamble.

That was why Will had been so insistent on taking that commission. Five thousand gold would have covered everything and then some. Marika would never have noticed a thing.

Where where did the original money go? she asked.

A mistress in Tradewind, from what I understand. The words cut deeper than a dagger. She had no idea you existed, if that can reassure you.

It did not. At all.

My husband tried to murder our son, Marika whispered emotionlessly. She would have cried if she still had the energy for it. She didnt have strength left for anger; only emptiness. My entire village was wiped off the map. This this is too much right now.

Mr. Marcellos eyes widened slightly, and a fleeting flash of sympathy appeared on his face. It lasted only a few seconds. Perhaps Marika imagined it.

All institutions are made of men, Miss Lunastello, the man said. I think most creditors will waive away the debt once they learn what happened. I will do my best to lighten your burden. But your husband borrowed from a few disreputable people. Some of them will demand payment in full.

Marika held her breath. My son

If all goes well, he wont have to pay a single copper.

He lied poorly.

It took three months of recovery and endless questioning before the priests agreed to let them go.

Beni hadnt said a word since they left the hospital.

In fact, he hadnt said a word since he woke up. The doctors said his throat and tongue worked perfectly; but he might remain voiceless for the rest of his life nonetheless. The wounds of the mind healed slower than those of the flesh.

Marika had to sell everything. Most of her tools, the houseit astonished her that Mr. Marcello found anyone willing to buy the forge; exorcists hadnt yet managed to completely clean the Blight that took over Sleepy Hollow after the massacreher savings, everything. She could only keep the clothes on her back, her sledgehammer, and tools to work.

True to his word, Mr. Marcello managed to reduce the debt to a fifth of its original amount; kind priests and strangers donated funds, including Wills mistress. She even visited Marika at the hospital, professing her ignorance and giving away the jewels her lover bought her. Marika thanked her for the gift and prayed never to see her again.

Goodwill had its limits, however, and Will saddled his wife with hundreds of gold to pay back. The creditors agreed to a delay, but insisted that she sign magical documents that would allow them to track down her essence in case she decided to skip town like her ex-husband.

Lunastello, Marika had signed on the document. Never Costa. Never again.

Benicio squeezed her hand with a tight grip. Her son had grown paler in the hospital, his eyes alternating from staring at the ground to their surroundings. He reminded his mother of a rabbit searching for any hint of danger.

He still expects his father to jump out of the shadows and finish him off, Marika thought bitterly. Will is going to haunt us both for a long time.

He and Chastel were still out there, plotting and killing. A part of her wanted to go after them for revenge, but Benicio came first. She needed to find work, any kind of work. Her son would never go to a magical academy as she had hoped, but if she played her cards right, he wouldnt have to suffer for his parents mistake.

So long as Beni lived, Marika would not give up. She would keep going. She would work, buy him toys, and do everything to make him happy. And then one day one day, she might hear her sons voice again.

That was all Marika wanted.

They need exorcists in Archfrost, according to Mr. Marcello, Marika thought as she and her son walked away from the church. The night was fresh and cool, as befitting the end of winter. I hope itll be spears and axes. I've had my fill of swords.

A flash of light illuminated the night.

Marika and her son froze in surprise as a spear of light arose in the west, setting the horizon ablaze. She immediately thought of the Chained Blade, but there was nothing ominous about that radiance. It inspired awe instead of dread.

What the Marika held on to her son to protect him. The light came from distant Erebia, the holy land where the goddess once descended upon the world. Could it be

The pillar of light vanished in a shockwave that shook earth and heaven alike. Over a dozen stars flew out of Erebia in its wake, a third shining like gold and the rest glittering like silver. The miracle amazed Marika, but not as much as the next scene.

For the first time since that terrible day, Benicios eyes widened in hope and wonder.

Look, Beni! Marika pointed at the lights. Its like the stories! The heroes are coming back!

A silver orb flew in their direction like a shooting star. Marika wondered which mark it belonged to; and who would be the lucky winner.

When the stars trajectory curved in their direction, she could only blink in shock. She raised her left handthe one she once stabbed her own husband withto protect her eyes from the radiance. A divine warmth enveloped her, stronger than a forges fire and gentle like a mothers embrace. When the light died out, Marika found a silver hammer drawn on the back of her hand.

The Artisans mark.

Marika stared at it in mute amazement, her mind struggling to accept what her eyes saw. Such was the nature of miracle; even with the evidence in front of her, she simply couldnt believe it.

But her son her gentle son observed it with the most beautiful face Marika had ever seen. A look of pure amazement and childish wonder. The expression of someone who had witnessed a fairy tale come to life. He gazed up at Marika with the most wonderful things of all.

A smile.

That was the true miracle.