Vespro: a Dark Fantasy, Witch-Hunting Novel

Chapter 1.13



The outside was the domain of the Evil One, home of its minions and other hideous creatures. Beyond the borders of the Principality chaos and violence reigned supreme. Only someone with a death wish, a fool who doesn’t care about their soul would have ventured there.

Yet there she was, taking in the view in the presence of an angel.

Nene had always imagined that beyond the borders people, if there were any, lived like beasts, wandering naked through the forests, taking refuge in caves, perhaps in primitive huts, killing each other for food and practising witchcraft and cannibalism. The reality before her was very different and much less frightening. At the foot of the steep hill on which Jiriel's house stood, to the north, stood a village dense with buildings, on the edge of a thick forest. There were a few dozen cottages, very similar to the one where the Emissary and Oto lived. There was no church, no bell tower dominating the city. It was surrounded by a wooden palisade and some sections of stone walls. The smoking chimneys of the picturesque houses confirmed the presence of its inhabitants, as well as the farmers who walked among fields, just outside the walls, and who looked like small ants from up there. From the thick of the forest emerged what looked like an ancient ruin, an imposing structure in white stone, taller than any building in the village, which resembled a bridge. The bizarre bridge stopped abruptly not far from the fields. It looked like it had collapsed in the past, or had been destroyed. Still, Nene couldn’t focus that much on the village, for something else in the distance piqued her curiosity even more.

The forest beyond the village was extremely thick, seemingly impenetrable. There was a faint mist rising from above the treetops, and there, far away, from that fog, a tree stood out. A tree so big and tall that, despite the distance, Nene had to look up, and still couldn't see its fronds. The tree disappeared into the clouds. Just looking at it made her dizzy. Was she daydreaming?

«My Lady?»

The breeze blew softly over the hill. Jiriel's wings, bronze hair, and colourful wings fluttered delicately, in sync with her soft pink tunic. The angel was walking barefoot through the fields. She stopped and turned towards her.

«I don't mind if you wanna call me that, but oh boy, it feels awkward»

«My Lady, please tell me: what is… that?»

She pointed to the colossal, unnatural tree on the horizon. Jiriel seemed perplexed by her question, and stood behind her, to better see what her finger was pointing at.

«You mean that tree? I mean… it's a tree»

«But… It's gigantic!»

There was a well-known folk tale that told of an old man, who had dedicated his whole life to growing a tree up to the sky. He had climbed it and, upon reaching the top, died of fatigue. The Cloud Folk, who lived up there, found his body, brought him back to life and gifted him with eternal youth, to reward his commitment. It was just a children's tale, no one would ever take it seriously. Yet there it was, a tree reaching to the sky.

«My, it is taller than the others», Jiriel agreed.

«You never noticed before?!»

The angel smiled. She for sure had such vast knowledge of the world that Nene could not even begin to comprehend, that is why Jiriel’s naivete left her speechless.

«Take no offence, ‘kay? Mortal bodies all look alike to me. I can barely tell one species from another from the outside»

«Mortal bodies? That's a tree!»

«It is. Wait… Trees are alive, don’t you know?»

«I thought they didn’t have a soul»

«Uh, I'm not sure. I should double check»

As she continued to stare in awe at the colossal plant, Nene became aware of the gap of knowledge between her and the Emissary. She seemed to perceive the world completely differently from her.

«So how do you tell me apart from Oto?»

«From your soul, silly»

«You… You can see souls?»

«Sure thing. I see many things invisible to you, including your souls»

Jiriel's bizarre eyes swept her up and down. Nene felt exposed and felt the urge to cover up. She was still wearing the oversized clothes Nila had put on her.

«Invisible things? I don't understand»

«Let me think... Let’s see… there’s something a friend of mine calls “Flow”… Do you see it? There's some over your head»

Nene looked up but saw nothing but the sky and a few white clouds. The wind blew through her hair, carrying the scent of the woods.

«You mean the wind? I don't see it, I feel it on my skin»

«Well, yes, it's the wind, but not really. Oh, also, do you see this water all around us?»

«No», she admitted. «I see no water»

Jiriel sighed. Had she hoped that Nene would perceive what only a divine being could?

«The world that Yave made us sure is interesting, isn't it?»

The Emissary just uttered the name by which God was referred to in ancient times as if nothing. Likewise, she called the Archangel by His name. It was something beyond Nene's understanding. She hoped she could get it, one day.

«That tree... Are you sure it's not the Evil One’s doing?»

«Haha!», she laughed. «What are you talking about? He doesn't go around planting trees. Why should he bother? They can multiply on their own»

Jiriel resumed walking. Nene followed her. She couldn't take her eyes off that anomalous giant that seemed to be falling on her head.

They pressed on towards the village. The grass on that hillside was knee-deep, damp and wild. The wind was mild, the chirping of birds came from the forest, only a few tens of metres away. They walked along its edges, almost in a straight line, an unequivocal sign of the presence of woodcutters. They crossed a field of millet, guarded by several scarecrows. The field had mostly been harvested, and Jiriel avoided the areas that had already been fertilised. Nene noticed how the Emissary's bare feet, unlike her boots, were clean despite the muddy ground.

Three peasants raised their arms towards them in greeting. They were dressed bizarrely, all of them wore clothes made of leather and rough cloth, just like Oto, and loose, cone-shaped woven straw hats that provided them with some relief from the sun. They held tools similar to those Nene knew, which gave her a sense of familiarity, as opposed to pretty much anything she had seen so far.

Beyond the field was the stockade that surrounded the small town. The fortifications were about five metres high and were under reconstruction. They walked towards a battered log gate, on either side of which some workmen were building stone walls. There were numerous scaffoldings, under which some workers were taking a break while sitting in their shadows. They were throwing something on the ground, shouting and cheering like children absorbed in a game. Whatever it was, it seemed compelling.

«My Lady, why do they need better walls? Is there any danger?»

«Let’s see… since I came here, nothing has ever happened. But yes, people are worried lately. There have been some skirmishes not far away»

Her statement was confirmed by the presence of a couple of armed guards near the gate. They weren't particularly alert, though. They just stood at the sides of the entrance, chatting with a man passing by, who was holding up a basket full of clothes, and was showing them to the two soldiers. Those men were fully equipped. They wore chainmails, metal gauntlets and a bizarre helmet with a round, circular visor. They carried halberds and had shortswords on their belts. Seen from the hill, the village didn't look that big, so it was insane to think that it had its own militia.

Beyond the gate, Nene saw the insides of the town and was surprised yet again: a road paved in stone ran across Kumhar, up to a gate on the opposite side of the stockade. That long and wide avenue was extremely busy. She saw not many draft animals, but dozens of people coming and going carrying baskets on their backs or pulling small carts themselves. The avenue, on both sides, was surrounded by two-storey buildings. The lower storeys were made of stone and the upper ones of logs or beams, just like Jiriel's house. On the roadsides, merchants were calling at passers-by. Contrary to what Oto had told her, trade was thriving there. She peeked inside a shop and saw a woman tanning, while a man along the way was holding one of those strange leather jackets that everyone was wearing. He motioned for her to come closer, but she hid behind the Emissary. She didn't sense the Evil One around her, yet she had heard so many stories about it that she didn’t feel like letting her guard down. She felt safe only because she was together with an angel.

«Where do you wanna go?», Jiriel asked.

«What do you mean?»

«We have plenty of time, no rush to get to the manor. Oto said I should show you around. Shall we?»

«I have no idea», she admitted. «Everything is so strange»

«It’s up to me, then! This way»

The Emissary quickened the pace. People in the street did not give her way with reverence due to her. They seemed to look at her as just an unusual fellow citizen. In the Principality, such a thing would have been considered an outrageous blasphemy, but Jiriel didn't give it any mind.

They took a small road to the left. In contrast to the main street, that one was plain dirt and rather narrow. It was also quite dark because of the tall buildings that surrounded it, and there was a stinging smell of burning wood. Nene had never explored the Capital too much, as the cadets rarely left the monastery where they were trained, but she well remembered the Prioress’ warnings about dark alleys, home to lowlifes. She remained as close as possible to the Emissary, which was giving off a pleasant warmth, compared to the cold air that blew through the streets. They came to a crossroads, in the centre of which was a well. A little boy was pulling water from it and, when he saw Jiriel, he stared at her for a moment, then continued with his chores.

«Never go left, got it?», the angel admonished her.

«Yes ma'am»

That warning made her curious as to what the left alley was hiding. She tried to peek but saw nothing except other houses huddled together, a shop she couldn't identify any better, and some innocuous-looking people carrying kegs on their shoulders.

They took the road to the right, which after a few metres went down sharply and ended at an impasse. At its bottom, from a dilapidated and smelly inn, came loud songs and screams. The building was falling apart, was dark and the wood beams were rotting. There was no signboard, no decorations, nothing. Of course, Jiriel headed right towards that frightening hovel. She almost stepped on a drunkard who was lying lifeless on the ground, in front of the entrance. Nene hesitated to follow her.

«Hurry up! It’s even better on the inside!»

The place had no door and was dark enough for the Emissary to shine like a candle. Sadly, her light allowed Nene to see the state of what should have been a tavern, but was more reminiscent of a pirate hideout from northern tales. The inn was a single room with circular tables scattered everywhere, some chairs still intact, and it smelled of sweat. In the background, to the right, a large wooden counter was dominated by a tall, huge woman with curly hair styled in a high ponytail. She was chewing something while pretending to be interested in a conversation with a patron. The man was leaning on the counter, could barely stand and was mumbling something incomprehensible. In the centre of the hall, a steep ladder went up into the shadows, and furious screams came from above. Some men, gathered around a table playing with cards, raised their heads. They all had a scruffy and menacing look, all they lacked was an eye patch.

«Hi, guys», Jiriel said.

The four men smiled and waved back. One of them invited Jiriel to join them for a game, calling her names that made Nene seethe, but the angel politely declined and walked over to the bar.

«Hi, Sevi»

«’morning», replied the woman behind the counter.

Looking closer, Nene noticed that she was wearing heavy makeup. In the Principality was considered typical of criminals and harlots. That woman's appearance was frightening.

«Who’s this dude?», Jiriel asked, nodding to the drunkard.

«Him? He's been like this since this morning. I have no idea what he's saying, but as long as he keeps drinking I’m fine with it»

The man at the counter mumbled indecipherable words between gasps. The Emissary watched him fascinated, and would have continued to do so, had the innkeeper not called her out.

«I heard you made some brigands go boom on the road»

«It wasn't brigands, she’s a witch»

The quartet at the table stopped playing. The woman stared at Jiriel in dismay and even the drunkard raised his head. There was silence, except for the screams from upstairs.

«Are you serious?»

«Don't worry, she’s in jail. The mayor has locked her up, we’re good»

«You gave me a stroke!», one of the patrons complained.

«Yeah, you did», the owner agreed. «Jiri, how many times do I have to tell you: we aren't all shiny and magical. Don't make us worry»

«”Jiri”?», Nene muttered.

Only the Emissary seemed to hear her. She gave her an extremely forced wink.

«Yes, it's a human thing. They shorten their names to show that they are friends... oh, sorry, I almost forgot you're one of them»

«My Lady, why did you bring me here?»

«Because humans come here to have fun! Right, guys?»

«Yeah! I’m on top of the world!!», one of them shouted, causing the others to laugh.

«Besides, Sevi always says that "nothing drives away a bad mood like a hangover"»

Jiriel imitated the woman's voice perfectly, so much so that it felt creepy. The innkeeper herself looked uncomfortable. She leaned against the counter and brought her powdered face closer.

«Never do that again, Jiri, or I'll have nightmares. Anyway, who’s your guest? She speaks funny»

Nene couldn't force herself to answer. She could smell the cologne coming from that woman’s hair, and there was something menacing about her shrill voice.

«She speaks funny because she’s from afar», the angel explained. «This is Nene. She was kidnapped by the witch. Oh, she's also an Inquisitor»

Silence fell again. Nene felt under massive pressure as the innkeeper kept staring at her.

«You mean… Those monster hunters from legends?»

«You’re a monster hunter? Cool! Oroel taught you something, then»

The four men who were playing cards left their table and surrounded them. Nene nearly began to tremble. She sought comfort in the Emissary, who meanwhile had sat down on a stool that was far too low for her, and was scrutinising the bottles arranged on a shelf behind the counter.

«Woah! You’re one of those heroes!»

«I heard from my cousin that he heard from his friend's sister that he heard of an Inquisitor who single-handedly killed a hundred Furies. Is it true?»

«My Lady… Help!»

«What? Can't choose what to drink? I can help if you need»

«Hey, guys, let her be», the owner said. «I am Sevika», she added.

The four men dragged their chairs and gathered around her. They had the look of children anxiously waiting to be told a story. Nene took a seat next to Jiriel, who was humming a tune. Or rather, she was reproducing an entire orchestra while barely moving her mouth, with several instruments and choruses.

«My Lady, what should I do?»

«Well… You could tell us about this monster hunting thing a bit. I wanna know too!»

Sevika poured a clear drink with a strong alcoholic smell into a couple of filthy glasses. It looked like brandy but the scent was different. When Nene asked what it was, she got an answer she didn't understand, and Jiriel elaborated by explaining it was some potato distillate.

«I like wine better», she added, laughing. «Humans, one day, thought of letting grapes rot and then drank them. What’s wrong with you guys?!»

«Agreed. We’re a bunch of weirdos, us humans», one of the men said.

«Guess you’re the sanest in town, Jiriel»

Everyone burst out laughing, except for Nene. The Emissary wore an innocent expression, clearly unaware that she was being made fun of.

«How many monsters have you killed, Inquisitor?»

«Aren't you a bit young to fight the Furies? And small, like, reeeeal small now that I look at you»

Nene tried to adapt to their language, telling them how she slayed her first "monster," omitting the religious aspect of it. In normal circumstances, it would have been part of her duties to try to educate the ignorant, but she was far beyond the borders and still feared for her safety. She wasn't sure how these people might have reacted to preaching. Jiriel insisted on having her drink the bizarre liquid. She took a single sip and decided it wasn't to her taste. The Emissary was happy to empty her glass too, and ordered a whole bottle right after.

Chatting with those people, Nene learned that the "Furies" were none other than the damned she had sworn to purge. It was a sadly adequate name, assuming that, in those lands, in the absence of an Inquisition, the damned remained as such for long periods, gradually turning into violent and out-of-control monsters

«Oh. Then your job is to protect people from monsters!»

«Yes, kind of…»

«We don't need your protection!» the drunkard, who was unconscious until a moment before, cried out all of a sudden. «The Fallen Queen might take me, but you can fuck off right now!»

«Hey, quit it, you old bastard!», Sevika said. «Imma kick your ass out!!»

«We don't need you, we are protected by fairies!», he yelled.

«Here he goes again…»

«Enough of that story, you old fart!»

«I’m telling you I saw her! She was… Uhm and… Ohm…», he explained, illustrating everything with vulgar gestures. «And she saved me when I was lost in the woods. I… I swear she’s our guardian! A gorgeous lady fairy!»

«That's enough!»

Sevika grabbed the old man by his messy grey beard. He tried to fight back but was dragged out effortlessly, while the other customer kept laughing.

«See?», Jiriel told her. «This place is fun!»

The Emissary drank about half the bottle in one go. She didn't swallow, she just poured it into her mouth. Nene was now certain that she had no mouth nor stomach in the proper sense, but something beyond her comprehension in their stead.

«Tell us about the witch!»

«Have you fought her?»

«I did. But I was defeated», she admitted.

«Witches sound powerful»

«Are we sure she can’t escape from prison? Maybe she can turn into a bee and fly out»

«Don't worry», Jiriel said. «This witch isn't very powerful. She doesn't even know how to manage her gift properly, so the Flow doesn’t answer the way she expects»

Everyone present, including Nene, looked at her puzzled. The Emissary used to share mysterious and incomprehensible concepts as if they were easy to understand, as opposed to the Archangel, who provided precise instructions to the Church.

«Jiri, explain»

«Yeah, we're not experts in magic»

The angel giggled and watched them as if they were being silly.

«What are you talking about? That's not magic. Magic exists only in fairytales!»

«My Lady, I… believe that Adanara is capable of controlling the wind, in some way»

«Oh yeah. She could do many other things if someone taught her. She got a gift from the Evil One»

«So she's a witch who can’t do magic?»

«Magic doesn't exist», Jiriel insisted. «Some of you receive gifts, others understand the world better… Unfortunately, you often misuse gifts and knowledge, that’s why I keep an eye on you»

The Emissary wasn’t trying to sound menacing, still, everyone in the tavern fell silent. Sevika came back, having disposed of the old drunkard, and Jiriel kept talking.

«When the witch came, I saw her soul from afar. I had never seen one like hers and I was suspicious. That's why I rallied everyone»

«I saw Belerda this morning, she told me you went berserk», the owner said. «Her back is still hurting»

«I’m so sorry! I lost my mind and someone got hurt…»

«Keep us safe and no one will complain if you're a lil’ crazy»

The angel smiled as she met everyone's approving gaze. Nene was puzzled at these people: they were weird, they treated her and the Emissary as equals, sometimes even disrespectfully… But they certainly weren't damned. On the contrary, they were just as afraid of the Evil One's minions as everyone else. Maybe she had been lucky to end up in that village, where people simply lived their lives and tried to stay safe from witches.

«My Lady, can I ask you a question?»

«Go on. I love questions!»

«How much power does the Evil One have over people around here?»

«Lemme think… last time we saw a Fury was… Oh, I can’t remember. Last week, maybe?»

«Two years ago», Sevika corrected her.

«Exactly. And I haven't met a witch for much longer»

«I… don't understand. I’ve been taught that…»

She glanced at the tavern patrons, expecting a reaction, but they seemed simply curious about her exotic tales.

«What? Did Oroel teach you something that I don't know?»

«Well… I… I was taught that, outside the Principality, the Evil One rules above everything»

«Who the heck this Evil One dude is, anyway?», a man asked.

Jiriel laughed heartily, all by herself. She motioned for Sevika to give her another bottle. The cork popped off without her touching it, provoking an amazed "Oh" from the beholders.

«Nah, there are too many things in the world to rule over all of them. No, he couldn’t, even if he tried. Although I would love if he would stop giving birth to monsters and the Furies»

«You mean… the Evil One isn't all that powerful?»

«Oh, no, he's extremely powerful. One of the most powerful in the world. But no one can rule over Yave's design, not even him, or me, nor Oroel. “Nature takes its course”, they say»

«I don’t get it, but it sounds like a horror story. Jiri, are you making things up just to scare us?»

«I'm not. But there's no need to be afraid. Nene is blowing things out of proportion. Yes, there are some Furies out there, and other scary things in the world, but you don't make all that fuss when we spot a pack of wolves, do you?»

«My Lady, the damned are far more dangerous than wolves!»

«True!», a man agreed. «Monsters are scarier»

Everyone agreed, and Jiriel seemed genuinely surprised.

«If you say so, then I should keep an eye on that witch»

«The mayor has been begging you since you brought her here!»

«I will. Tomorrow. Now it's late. Oto is already making dinner for sure!»

Nene had lost track of time. It was hard to tell, in that dark tavern at the end of a dark alley. Jiriel drank, or rather, poured yet another bottle into her mouth, then jumped to her feet.

«I'm going home. See you tomorrow»

She had almost reached the doorway when she remembered about Nene.

«You should come too. You have no place where to stay»

«Yes, my Lady»

«Did you hear it? She calls her "lady"»

«Is Jiriel a lady? She doesn't behave ladylike if you ask me»

«You silly goose. It means that Nene respects me a lot. I agree, it's a bit strange, but that’s how things are where she comes from»

After saying goodbye to that unusual bunch, Jiriel led Nene back home. It was almost sunset, therefore the city was much less crowded. They crossed the large central avenue up to the palisade, where some soldiers, standing guard on the already completed stone sections, were lighting some fires.

«My Lady, what are those people doing?», she asked.

«They're getting ready for the night. They keep watch until morning. They take turns, you know? They can't stay awake for that long»

The Emissary was amused by her observation, but Nene drew the most obvious conclusion.

«What are they afraid of? You said that there are no monsters nor damned in the area»

«I told you there have been strangers fighting not too far, didn't I? We don’t know much about it because whoever they are, they never came near Kumhar. All we know is that some hunters have seen armed warriors and found dead bodies in the forest»

They went through the gates, towards the hill. Despite the tense atmosphere, no one minded Jiriel. After all, these people considered her a member of their community and an ally.

«Aren’t you afraid that something might happen to the townsfolk?»

«No. Ok, maybe a lil'. But they are building walls to defend themselves. And if they raise the alarm, I will come and help»

If any group of marauders dared to storm that settlement, they were to be pitied. Nene could not even remotely understand the nature of her Lady, but certainly, she was very similar to the Archangel, at least in terms of power. She had personally witnessed her strength. Jiriel had a very fickle temper, though being mostly inoffensive, even naïve at times.

The massive, unnatural tree conveyed even more sinister emotions, in the light of dusk. Suddenly, Nene remembered the reason they left that morning.

«My Lady, you said you wanted me to do something»

«Yeah, but I forgot. Oops! We'll think about it tomorrow. Since you are an expert, I want you to come with me to interrogate the witch»

She shivered. She wasn’t eager to see Adanara or Nila again, but she was in debt with Jiriel and the people of Kumhar, who had saved her. Perhaps by helping them out, she could have got a ride back to the Principality. Or maybe she could have taken advantage of the situation to get rid of Adanara and her blasphemous sorcery meant to spread damnation.

«You can count on me», she replied.

«Good. You feel safer, now?»

«What are you referring to?»

Jiriel assumed an unexpectedly serious expression. The lax, impulsive, giggly woman she had spent the day with disappeared in an instant.

«Weren’t you afraid of people in town?»

Her tone was cold, detached, as she scrutinised her as if she were judging her. Nene bowed her head.

«My Lady…»

«I know what Oroel does in the Principality. Kumhar is a peaceful place and my home. I don't want him to mess with it, got it? I know he sees the whole world as his enemy, but no one here wants war»

«I have no intention to cause trouble to you or the town who rescued me»

«Good!»

The angel became joyful again. Her light shone brighter. She kept walking up the hill.

«You can stay as long as you like. You could even live here if you wish. The mayor could find you a job»

«I… I don't know what to do», she admitted. «My Lady, what will become of me?»

«I don't get you. You can do what you want. Or is something stopping you?»

Nene began to sob. None of what she was experiencing made any sense. Everything had been perfect until she met Adanara. Not perfect in the sense that she had never encountered hardship, but she had a clear direction in life and principles to follow. She used to know a solid truth that made the most difficult choices bearable, but everything was falling apart. She was talking to an angel, in a place that was supposed to be haunted but was not, below the shade of a tree as high as the sky

«I… everything… I was taught…»

Jiriel hugged her. The contact left her breathless. She was extremely warm, yet she didn't burn. Her tears dried in an instant.

«Nene, you've been a prisoner all this time, and you didn't even know. But now you're free. I get it, it’s scary at first»

«I don't know what to do, I don't know what's right and what's real anymore», she sobbed.

The angel knelt in front of her. Their faces were almost at the same height. Jiriel held out her hand and gave a sincere and motherly smile.

«If it's guidance you seek, pledge to me»

«But… What about… about…»

She thought back to the Principality and her role within it. The world needed Inquisitors to protect itself from the Evil One. She could not deny all that she was just like that, even if to follow the Emissary.

«You have no responsibility towards Oroel», she reassured her. «He'll be fine without you»

«What about my salvation?»

«Your soul is fine the way it is. Sure, it’s all over the place, but I see what it wants. Do you want me to tell you?»

She nodded. Maybe having her soul described by the Emissary would help her clear her mind. In her heart, she feared she would tell her exactly what she expected, something selfish, ungrateful to the Prioress and the teachers who had raised her, and to the Archangel who had blessed her.

«Your soul longs to feel loved»

She covered her face. Unfortunately, she was aware of her desires, which had distracted her from her goals throughout her life. As a child, she had always leaned on Elora, and over time she had come to see her almost as a mother figure, even though they were the same age. Something similar had happened with Nila, however brief their acquaintance had been. She longed for affection, the kind that had always been denied her by her duties as an Inquisitor.

«I'm sorry», she said.

«You did nothing wrong. And you can't escape your desires forever. I know Oroel told you to give them up, but… If you’ll let me, I'll teach you how to live with them»

«I fear eternal damnation…», she admitted.

«Fear is temporary. We can find you a purpose if you want. I hope one day you'll be loved the way you long for»

«My Lady…»

«Yes?»

«You asked me to pledge to you… Would you make a deal with me?»

«What kind of deal?»

«I will always be loyal to you, I will follow your lead. In return, you… You will make my wish come true»

«I can't make it come true. You will have to work hard, all I can do is assist you. Maybe I could buy you a drink any time you fail while trying»

«Good enough»

«Deal?»

«Yes. I swear to serve you, my Lady»

«And I swear to help you find the love you seek»

Nene watched her new mistress. She was standing still in front of her, the cool evening wind ruffling her hair. She was a bizarre, chaotic, impulsive lady… Maybe she was the right guide for her. However, remembering her only encounter with the Archangel, she would have expected something more than a simple exchange of spoken oaths. Jiriel seemed to read her thoughts.

«You wanted my blessing?»

«Er… I… I didn't know what to expect»

«Nene, when an angel blesses a mortal, it gives them a tiny fragment of themself. It’s nothing big, it makes barely any difference to us. But to you…»

She remembered the indescribable feeling she had the day of her appointment as Inquisitor. The Archangel's blessing had her on her knees, her body had felt on the verge of collapsing.

«When Yave created this world, it asked for my help to design some mortals, you know? It thought it would be interesting if you were sorta like me. I'm not sure, but I think that, in a way, you all already have my blessing. If I give a second fragment to someone, their head might pop!»

Nene smiled. She was getting used to the weird things Jiriel came up with. Perhaps one day, had she felt ready, she would have asked her for a better explanation.

«I'm dead serious!», she insisted. «Do you know what happens to a mortal when their head pops?!»

«I'd rather not»

«See? Let's go home, or else Oto will think I got you drunk»

Of all of Jiriel’s oddities, the fact that she was perfectly sober after way too much alcohol was the least surprising. It wasn't so amazing that booze did not affect a being that shone with its own light, didn't get dirty when touching the mud and imitated any sound to perfection. That strange winged woman had become her guidance, her teacher. Nene hoped she could lead her towards a happy life.


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