Chapter 3

Nyle trailed after the arcanist in utter silence, ignoring the chatter that the shocked priests were saying at the far left, right behind a marble column that provided some privacy. His face was the perfect representation of the frustration and anger he was feeling at what was going to happen in mere moments. Not only he was forced to listen to the utter nonsense that the elven arcanist was going to spit out; he also had to deal with the confidence and belief that his colleagues were surely going to show towards him. They would surely nod and note down his interpretation as if it was the truth. And he already know how difficult it was going to repress the urge to punch them all.

 "Ah! Finally!" said Magister Gideon in such a happy voice that Nyle already found irritating. "Here comes the man of the hour. Maybe now we can have a culprit to identify."

Nyle gritted his teeth.

 "Yes. Now can we shed some light upon this mess." continued Magister Barail, seeming however more reluctant to share the confidence he had just shown the fellow Magister. If Nyle knew him well enough, he too didn't trust scrying as the absolute truth. He still hold it in high regard, but with a more practical approach that Nyle almost found…tolerable.

As the arcanist slowly positioned himself at the center of that small circle of people, Nyle stood right beside Captain Villamor, who immediately noticed the look on his face.

 "Just deal with it." said the captain in a faint whisper that only Nyle understood. "It's going to be over soon."

Nyle simply nodded, steeling himself.

 "During my vision…" said the arcanist, who looked bewildered, his eyes glazed over and lost in the void. "I have seen the hand that desecrated this holy place in such a gruesome and vile act. I have seen the victim lay there, already dead and gone, while his executioner mutilated his skin with shocking precision. I have perceived the anger and hate that his body was emitting. And I have seen the blood flowing between this room…"

Silence fell on the group.

 "What about the killer? Did you see his face, some mark tha-"

 "The killer-" said the arcanist, surprising everybody. "Hated the victim. He must have known him on a personal level. There is no other explanation."

Nyle sighed frustrated. As he expected, that whole thing didn't make any sense. If what the arcanist was saying was true, then why did the killer even bother to place the victim exactly in the middle of a church, leaving behind a trail of skin etched symbol? Why the charade? If it was him, he would have simply buried the body outside the city, or thrown it in the sea at the bay. Nobody would have found it.

It would have been the perfect crime.

 "And the braziers? What happened to them? Why are they extinguished?"

This time the arcanist didn't answer, instead mumbling something about interferences and words that didn't even have a meaning. The captain swiftly called some young recruits that were nearby, ordering them to escort the elf outside to catch some fresh air to reorder his thoughts.

 "It seems like we already have a suspect. Let's ask around and summon everyone the victim had a close relationship with. Let me tell you, this case will be over before we know it." said confidently Magister Gideon.

 "Yeah. Let's hope so. We cannot allow this case to drag out long. We have to arrest a suspect at the sooner opportunity."

 "I don't think we should follow that assh-" said Nyle, stopping just in time. Probably a good thing, given how angry and completely disinclined to praise the utter nonsense he had just heard. "That man's vision blindly. As you sure know, scrying isn't reliable. To put it mildly: I believe we should-"

 "We are all aware of your foolish aversion towards scrying, Inquisitor Nyle. Everyone in the higher ups is, for that matter. But let me be very clear on this matter." declared coldly Magister Barail as he stepped forward, pointing at him an accusatory finger that Nyle wanted nothing more than break in half. "You will not ignore the scrying arts, nor their potential trails. You will not investigate, interrogate, question, or anything related to this case on your own accord. This time we will not be lenient as we have been in the past. Too much is at steak right now for your maddening ethic."

 "Magister Gideon, I have always delivered results when I had the chance and the tools to do so. There's no way-"

 "Drop it, Nyle. I will not hear it. And neither will the other Magisters."

Nyle bit his tongue so hard to repress himself from exploding with anger that he felt a little drop of blood inside his mouth. How could they do this to him? How dare they treat him like that? Oh, they were going to pay for putting him in this situation. He was going to ignore them and show how good he was at his job. And damn the consequences.

 "…Am I free to leave?"

 "What?" asked the Magister, who had already moved on.

Nyle repeated himself. 

 "Oh. Yes, inquisitor. You can leave. Captain Villamor will conduct the inte-"

A dwarven man, who clearly belonged to the church hierarchy, and high one at that, came rushing from the back door, accompanied side by side by a couple of human Holy Knights, who followed his every movement like a shadow. The booming voice with which he exclaimed words of despair and sadness in front of that unholy spectacle spread through the church, echoing off the walls and columns, until it attracted the attention of every single man and woman present.

 "Sweet All Mother! Who dared do defile the sacredness of this place?" asked the priest with his head pointed at the ceiling. Then, as he readjusted his focus on level ground, he approached them in a forceful manner.

 "Magisters! Please tell me you have already found the sinner who committed such a vile act. This kind of barbarism is something that I have never seen before."

 "Grand Cleric Herdroum! We weren't expecting you. As always, it's a pleasure to be in your presence, despite the circumstances." said Magister Gideon in a toothy smile that reached almost to his ears.

 "Never mind the pleasantries, Magister. Answer me instead. Did you find the culprit? Has scrying, thanks to the All-Mother's grace, revealed the truth?"

 "Well…these things take time, your grace. But I have no doubt my men will bring closure to this havoc in a heartbeat. We won't allow the beast who has caused this to walk free any longer than necessary. You have my word."

 "Good!" replied the Grand Cleric happily. "I'm sure you wi-"

At that Nyle turned around and walked quickly out that church, that now seemed more prone to fake pleasantries and homicide than celebrating liturgic rites. He felt like throwing up, but not from the alcohol he had ingested hours ago. No. The hypocrisy and disregard of respect for the victim, in favour of the fake smiles and apparent submission that the Magister was showing so boldly, was the cause for such ill feelings. How could he call himself Magister if his only preoccupation was climbing the ranks? How could he even deem himself worthy?

 "…stupid son of a…" mumbled Nyle.

 "Wait up, Inquisitor."

Nyle stopped at a hair breath from the door. He was ready to lash out at the poor rookie, but it wasn't his fault to begin with. Trying his best to calm down, Nyle turned around.

 "What is it?" he asked as he looked straight at Avron, who was looking unsure.

 "The captain told me to tell you to not wait for him. He said to wait for him directly at main headquarters, but to not procced with the family's testimony until he arrives."

 "…What?"

 "As I said, the captain-"

 "Yes. I heard you." said Nyle frustrated. "I just can't believe I have to deal with this nonsense again. This is such a shitshow…"

 "Well, Inquisitor…I think it's not that the captain doesn't trust your abilities, or your judgement. The higher ups are the ones that are probably responsible for complicating matters. I mean, they'll want to resolve this murder quietly and swiftly, before it reaches the people."

 "And that's how they plan to do that? By placing obstacles in my path? How does that make sense?"

 "It's the way it is, sir."

Nyle clenched his hand in a fist, not saying anything, before turning around and walking outside. Maybe the chilly night air that was blowing in that moment though the immense and vast capital could calm his nerves. Yeah…Who was he kidding? It was never going to work.

Still angry, and disappointed, and frustrated, and whatever emotions one could feel in between, he marched towards the carriage, who was still in the same place he left it. The coachman, a man who looked like in his forties, was sleeping soundly, with his head tilted to one side and the legs stretched out in front of him.

 "Wake up!" said Nyle, as he forcibly jolted the poor man awake. 

 "…Uh…Wha…What?"

 "Wake up. I have to go."

The coachman calmly stretched his limbs, yawing soundly. His bloodshot eyes were evident even in the dim light that was illuminating the plaza where the church was located. "Alright, alright. No need to-" another yawn escaped him. "-scream. So, where're we going?"

Before Nyle could respond, Avron answered from behind him.

Nyle jumped up surprised. Since when was that rookie behind him? But more importantly, how could he have failed to notice it? He might have been inexperienced, but he sure had the talent to appear out of nowhere. "We're going to the Main Quarters of the Civil Order, in the Central Plaza. You can rest there once we reach it."

 "Right…" said the coachman in such a sardonic grin that it made evident for everyone the utter disbelief he was feeling.

 "Wait a damn moment! We…?"

 "Ah, yes. Inquisitor. I have to accompany you for the entire duration of the investigation. The magisters said so."

Nyle briefly put his hands on his temples, closing his eyelids. Then, as he sharply inhaled some fresh air, he exclaimed. "Alright. Fuck it. Let's go. I don't care anymore."

As they climbed inside, literally throwing themselves over the lightly padded seats, the coachman gave a light but firm tug on the reins, making the horses sprint forward. Their toned and powerful muscles allowed the carriage to move, but Nyle would have almost preferred if in their places there would be the two-legged animal that he despised: Magister Gideon. Oh, how much he would have like to see him in that situation. Even the thought was enough to make his smirk devilishly.

However, as his mind began to process what the next days, if not weeks, were most likely going to be, a deep, frustrated sight escaped from within. Not only would he had to solve a case that was sure going to be complicated. Now he also had to nurse that damned rookie for who knows how long. Life was always a pleasure, wasn't it?

Fortunately, his mood took on a turn for the better once the carriage emerged from the oppressive buildings to enter the wide street that led directly to the Main Quarters.

Looking up, as he was reasting his head against the glass window of the door, he saw the night sky illuminated with hundreds of stars. Their distant calm and cool light always managed to offer him a moment of inner peace that he could rarely get otherwise. Even now, when everything seemed difficult, they managed to have that calming power over him.

But he couldn't relax. Not now, at least.

He hadn't realized it, but the carriage was almost there. And he had a job to do. With or without anyone's approval.

 //////

The door opened and Nyle quickly climbed out, followed closely by Avron.

In front of them there was a wide staircase made of white marble, perfectly smooth even if thousands of people walked on it every single day of the year. Even Nyle, who had always preferred to stay clear of that part of the capital, was forced to walk on it about five times a year because of some rank-raising ceremony or social event that required his presence.

Each time, he despised walking on those steps, which felt endless to him. He couldn't even walk a dozen of them that he already wanted nothing more than turn around and leave that damned place. But now, for the very first time in his career, it was different. Now his steps were quickly climbing them, and the walk didn't seem as long as it has always seemed. 

Having reached the summit, Nyle looked up to the giant and lavish building which housed the Main Quarters. At least, the ones of the Civil Order. The others were scattered around different part of the capital. 

Inside it, within those thick walls richly decorated with unnecessary frills, coat of arms, and statues of various shapes and sizes, worked the most senior and influent higher ups that his Ministry had at its disposal. To Nyle, they just seemed a bunch of old geezers, for the most part, that were too preoccupied with their status and power hunger to deserve the position they were in. But he still had to deal with them, however marginally it might be, if he still wanted a chance to have his way.

Nyle sighed with frustration. He hated all of that.

The fake smiles. The back stabbing. The hateful gazes that some his superiors, regardless of gender or race, always launched at him with a false sense of superiority. He would have gladly told them what he really thought of them, but not now. Now he just hoped to not meet them (a very vain hope) and collect the testimony of a broken family that would bombard him with questions, scream, and tears.

What a shitty day…

 "So these are the famous Main Quarters? They sure are big." said Avron as his eyes inspected the surface of the building.

 "Have you never been here? It's customary for all members of our Ministry to receive our rank inside it though?"

 "W…Well, my case was a little bit…different:"

The giant question mark that seemed to materialize in front of Nyle was self-explanatory.

 "I had some…difficulties on a personal note. Nothing serious, but I couldn't make it through the usual channels. It's only thanks to a certain person, of whom I'll never tell their name, that I have been able to enrol in the academy to begin with. My family…isn't very supportive of this choice."

 "That still doesn't explain why-"

 "Connections. Thanks to that person I was able to take the exam in another city."

 "Oh!" exclaimed Nyle while his eyebrows arched upwards. "I see. So you're one of those, uh?"

 "…One of those?"

 "Yes. You know, a recommended. One with connections. You must had it easy."

He scowled at him for a couple of seconds, only to look at him straight in the eyes without any apparent deference. Nyle's lips slightly arched in small smirk at that sudden show of backbone. In reality, his remark was only a provocation. He didn't give a damn if the boy was recommended or not. What he cared was that the rookie had some backbone, hidden behind all that inexperience and soft skin, and the determination to bend the rules, when necessary.

 "Inquisitor, what I have achieved in my life is only thanks to the determination to reach my goals, whatever the price. Did I receive a little help along the way? Yes. But I have taken the exam as any other recruit before me. I'm here because I reached the top of the list, both in marks and physical tests. I deserve this, and no one can take it from me."

This time Nyle laughed. "Good! Good."

 "…What?"

 "It's good that you some backbone buried in you. If I'm stuck with you, however long it may be, at the very least I have to know that you're not one of those who'll cower in front of difficulties. The cases, in my opinion, have always the priority over anything."

Without giving Avron a chance to reply, Nyle ventured inside the immense building, throwing open one of the many wooden doors that composed the entrance. The walnut wooden floor that covered every single room, and every single floor, echoed in contact with their boots, bouncing on the white walls.

The light coming from the huge crystal chandeliers made the huge coat of arms that had been engraved in a mosaic on the floor shine like it had its own. No one, not even the craziest of men, would ever mistake that palace for what it was not.

As proof of that, an endless tide of men and women of all races wearing the black tunic that was customary to the investigative branch, was walking back and forth. The only figure standing still in the midst of that chaos was a red-haired woman with whom Nyle had had to deal on few occasions, but who had always shown herself to be cold and aloof. She was the one tasked to provide information to visiting people and to direct members to the correct location.

 "Hi, Giselle. I have to take the statement of a couple of elven people, mother and son, that should have already arrived. Care to tell me in which room they have been taken?"

 "…Identification, please."

Nyle grunted in frustration. "After all this time, you're still asking me to show my Id. Really? Can't you see that-"

 "Id, inquisitor. Or you're not going anywhere." said the woman flatly. Her distant and rigid approach to the rules were some of the reasons why Nyle didn't like her.

Nyle rummaged through his possessions, searching in every pocket and little cranny that his clothes and armor had. When he found that cursed id, on which his full name, place and date of birth were recorded, he almost cussed out loud. The affixing of a particular seal that only officials of the empire had, guaranteed, at least marginally, the authenticity of the document. Soon afterwards, there was the irrefutable proof that it was the original and not a forgery.

 "Good morning, Nyle. Where's your tunic?" said Giselle after the arcane tool she had over her circular desk had reacted positively with Nyle's Id.

He didn't know how, but that crystal-clear lens contraption could flawlessly recognize the authenticity of every single Id that was submitted to it, making it impossible to counterfeit it. Maybe it had something to do with the ink, or the parchments used. He still didn't care enough to understand it thought.

 "Yeah, I forgot."

 "Forgot it? Now that won't do."

 "I had a difficult night, alright? At least you, cut me some slack. Now, can you please answer me. I would like to get this over with as soon as possible."

 "No."

 "…What?"

 "I said I can't, Nyle."

Nyle looked at the woman in front of him with such a fierce look that if his eyes could kill, she would have surely have died. What was the problem now? Had they all agreed in a secret pact to make him lose his what little mental sanity he had left? Was that what was going on? Because he sure as hell was feeling like that. 

 "What the fu-"

 "He has to show me his Id. The rules are clear. Every person, regardless of rank, must verify the identity to operate or consult the archive."

 "Can't you like…make an exception?"

 "No." she deadpanned.

Before the situation further escalated in an argument that Nyle knew it would drag on for way too long, Avron swiftly took out his brand-new Id, which still smelled of leather and metal, and handed it over. The stubborn woman then ignored Nyle and proceeded to verify his identity with same procedure. The only difference was that the younger man was handed a blank form that needed to be filled.

 "It's standard procedure, Junior Lieutenant Avron Meadrow. Fill the blank space. It will only take a couple of minutes."

 "Ah, yes." said Avron firmly. "But can't I hand it to you later? We would really like to meet the victim's family…"

 "I'm afraid I have to insist. The rules state that-"

 "Upon first identification, each person must fill and hand in the general information form." said Avron interrupting her. His voice, which was always full of signs and accents that clearly denoted his state of mind, seemed cold and metallic as he perfectly recited the correct paragraph of the correct article in the immense tome of the Codex. How could he remember that amidst the endless tome of the Codex was something that Nyle didn't even comprehend.

 "I know that. But I won't be breaking any rules if I don't immediately hand it over. Won't I"?

 "…No." she replied uncertainly.

 "Right. So I don't think it's a problem if I take the form with me, compile it, and bring it back here before I make my exit. Won't you agree?"

 "…Well, I suppose that-"

 "Perfect!" he exclaimed as he squeezed her hands with his. "You're a life safer."

During all of that exchange, Nyle stood there with a look that clearly reflected the dismay he felt inside. There, in front of him, was the very same woman that had never, not even once, conceded a point with anyone. Not even his superiors had managed to crack the thick armor of neutrality and blindly adherence to the rules that Giselle always wore like a second skin.

And yet, here she was. Speechless and with a blush on her face.

To Nyle that was the most incredible thing he saw that morning. And he had just saw a mutilated corpse inside a damned church. What a day…

 "Thanks, dear." said Avron as he let go of her hands. On his face Nyle noticed a charming smile that he wanted nothing more than to wipe out. "I'll stop by later."

Giselle blinked, quickly trying to recompose her usual stoicism. But it was too late. Nyle and Avron had already left.

 //////

Nyle climbed three flights of stairs before coming to a halt. On front of him there was the newest contraption that the Arcane Engineers, Civil Branch, had come up in the last few months. It was a sort of elevator, of the kind used widely in ports. But unlike those, which operated through the use of weights and pulleys, usually driven by draught animals, the one in front of him was completely different.

First, its only purpose was to lift people, and not materials. Sure, it could be even used as such, but it was not designed for that. Second, it was powered by something that was pushing the boundaries of what was thought to be possible.

Somehow, from what Nyle could understand due to his limited knowledge on the matter, the animals had been replaced with a sort of stone that could prolong tremendously the duration of any arcane diagram. How could that be? Was it possible that in the long and vast history since the arcane had been studied and practiced nobody had discovered something simple as that? But maybe it was more difficult than that. Maybe the stone wasn't something that was being extracted from the mines that spanned all over the imperium territory. But no matter how advance and secure it was publicized, he wasn't going to trust a contraption that had just been installed. Maybe after some time, but for now, no way.

Diverting his gaze upward towards the white walls, Nyle searched the indications that were painted on them to facilitate the crowd directing. On the one painted near that damned contraption, just a few paces on the right, he read out exactly was he was searching for.

He smirked. Now that he remembered, it was quite some time since the last time he had stepped inside that wing of the building. Perhaps even longer. He still could remember the joy, pride and trepidation he had felt when he first had the chance to actively participate in one of the interrogations, no matter how little it might have been. But that enthusiasm had been short lived. Fresh recruits like Avron wouldn't understand. They still hoped to stop hardcore criminals, to protect the innocents, and make a name for themselves, right? Yeah. Good luck with that. The harsh reality was something that was going to crush those ephemeral dreams. Less dreams, less disappointments. It was easier that way.

Maybe he should clearly tell him how disappointing and constricting was the Ministry of Surveillance with his junior officers. In the long run, it would have served Avron some good. But that was a thought for another time.

Following the indications written on the wall, Nyle and Avron turned right to reach the inner part of the building where the interrogation rooms were. A couple of seconds later they disappeared inside the long corridor the was full of rooms, hoping to get some answers before Captain Villamor's arrival.

 //////

At the room marked with number 35-A, they stopped.

Guarding the room, or rather, the door that led inside it, there were a dwarf so tall that he hardly even looked like one, and a fat man with a thick black beard that covered completely his jaw. Only the lips were partially visible inside that thickness.

 "Ah! Told you Odrin. I know they would call him." said the fat man with a barely visible smirk as he realized that Nyle was coming. "Now pay up, you cheapskate."

 "Yeah, yeah." replied the dwarf clearly annoyed as he handed over some shiny coins. His eyes were the perfect example of how one could express their feelings without uttering anything related to them. "Shut up…fatso."

 "Ehi! I'm not fat. I'm robust."

The dwarf deadpanned him as he lowered his gaze to his belly. Even from under the armor he was wearing, anyone could see the roundness and thickness it had. "…Yes, of course. And I'm a giant."

 "I'll have you kn-"

 "Are you two finished with your little quarrel or are you planning of boring me to death?" asked Nyle annoyed. Those two would never change. He had known them for many years now, from times when he had been little more than a beginner. But no matter who much time passed. They remained as unchanged as statues. Something that he thought to be more unique than rare in that field.

 "Oh, c'mon Nyle. I know you missed us. Our banter was the only thing that brought some colour inside that ran down building. Even though it's been a whole year since I was transferred here, I can still smell the stench of dampness those walls exuded. Speaking of which, is it still the same or…"

 "There have been some minor improvements. Mainly to the chief's office, if you know what I mean. The rest of the quarters only got a new paint job done. Shitty, by the way. The basement is already peeling off."

 "I sure am happy to have leaved that behind then. Lucky me, huh?"

 "Yeah. Anyway, you should know why I'm here. There has been a murder. A violent one. The elven only department should have already brought the victim's family. Are they inside, or are they still waiting in the hall down the corridor?'

 "Yes. We sort of heard what was going on. You know, the elves in that area aren't exactly talkative with other races. But I guess you already know that. Their attitude is something that I-"

Nyle sighed heavily. Here he goes again. Every single time that man started to rumble about something that was either bothering him in his personal life, or about a certain situation he was dealing with, he would go on forever. Time and time again Nyle had almost reached the point where he was going to assault him. After all, his life was already enough of a burden. He didn't need another one on his mind to tolerate.

 "Kliras." blurted out Nyle as he felt his patience growing thin. The headache that was finally receding back could have returned with all that constant blathering. "The family. Now. I have nor the time nor the will to listen to your…lengthy speeches."

 "Alight." said the man a little taken aback. "Goddess, you sure are on your toes today. Did you-"

He stopped. The look of exhaustion and patience growing thin that Nyle was giving him made him reconsider finishing the phrase. "…The family is waiting for you inside the left room. An Inquisitor, an elven elder, and some junior officers are with them."

As he went for the door, thanking the man, the dwarf, who had stayed silent, grabbed his arm. Then he slowly turned his head toward him, giving him a look over. "…You look like shit."

Nyle bit his lips. "I know that, alr-"

 "Be careful in there, Nyle. Tempers are high. Very high. There is a real risk of this whole thing going tits up if you don't manage to calm things down with the elves."

 "…Thanks for the info, Odrin. But I'm no peacemaker. My job is to discover the truth and arrest criminals."

 "Suit yourself." said Odrin, shrugging his shoulders as he released him from his iron grip. "'Just thought of warning you. If you make a giant mess out of it, it's not my problem."

 "Huh. Always a pleasure talking with you, half man."

 "Always a pain, asshole."

As they shared a mutual smirk, Nyle opened the door. Then he took a breath and went inside.