Silence.
Jean kept his composure, steam clouding his face. Liron pointed his knife at Gabrielle, but she did nothing but smile at them. There was no malice behind it. No open threat or promise of the same fate as her father. Liron wondered whether it was contrived or not. It appeared genuine.
Dampened sounds of celebration reached them. "Oh my, it seems they start again," Gabriella said. "Rather early. And here I was thinking they would keep quiet in the good parts of Kupferrang."
"Explain yourself," Jean said, hammering his fist on top of the table. The wood cracked, bursting underneath his punch.
"My, you seem not too pleased," she said, putting the lid back on the plate. Liron relaxed but kept his knife high. "Understandably, I suppose. Papa was rather important. I did not want him dead, but he left me no other choice."
"Why?" Jean asked, his voice pressing out from behind his teeth.
"You see, my Papa was not a good man. Always paranoid. Saw Drom everywhere he looked. Especially in me. His mania has gotten worse over the last few months. He was convinced I worked for the Inquisition or the Empire at large. He became… hostile towards me.
"Then the vision occurred. Papa lost all sanity, and I knew he would snap. I hoped he would not, but my dreams gave me the last warning I needed. Four days ago, he murdered me in my dreams. He reeked of alcohol. Strangled me while I was in bed. Coward. So, once I woke up, I made short work of Papa before he could do the same to me."
"Why am I supposed to believe you?" Jean asked. "For all I know, you could be with the Inquisition."
"Then we are my colleagues? I would have turned this house into a trap for you. It was obvious someone from the Resistance would come to check on Papa. By now, you would be put to the blade, and it wouldn't stop until we had all we required from you. You would be a tough nut to crack, but our dear Emil doesn't strike me as the persistent type."
Liron tightened the grip on his knife. "You're not the one holding the blade here," Liron said, "so take your insults and shove them up your ass."
"Oh my, Emil, so vulgar."
"Enough!" Jean said, slamming his fist down again. The table cracked. It wouldn't survive another punch. "What do you want? Give me something, or I will tempt fate."
"Careful, Jean, the Inquisition is nearby. Should they notice anything, they will be here soon."
"Not soon enough. Speak. Now."
Gabriella narrowed her eyes at Jean, her smile remaining pure. "Fine. After I had killed my dear Papa, I felt so… empty. My entire life revolved around him. What was I supposed to do without him? But then I realized he only kept me back. He was paranoid of me because he knew my potential. He knew that I was meant for more. That's why he killed me. So, my dear Jean, I am keen to join you."
Jean stared at her, his features twisting yet again. He sat down, the steam vanishing. "Are you mad?"
"I have nothing better to do. Everything is boring in Kupferrang. I need to get out of here and see the world. The Resistance offers me the best chance to do so. And I realized something as my Papa died in my arms. I don't think I'm meant for trade, becoming a housewife, or being a highborn. I think I want to try fighting."
"What?" Jean asked. All control over himself was gone when confronted by something outside his control and understanding.
"Yes. I've read about it. Papa told me several times about the heroes in Sannara. Only now did I realize he meant the Resistance. And the Resistance offers me the most opponents, correct? The Empire and the Qilesh. What else could I ask for?"
"Have you ever fought?" Jean asked.
"No."
"Are you trained in fighting?"
"Somewhat. Papa paid tutors not just to educate me but to ensure I was a great athlete, too. It cannot be that different."
"Are you a Wizard or an Alchemist?"
"No."
Jean puffed like a bull, struggling to keep his rage suppressed. His fingers cramped, yearning to snap Gabriella's neck. "Then why do you think you would have a chance in any fight? You would die immediately."
Gabriella rolled her eyes, waving away Jean's argument. "It can't be that difficult. If you and Emil can fight, it should be of no concern to me. I will find something. Magic. Alchemy. I will use one of them, surely."
"This is no game. I don't know what madness has taken your senses from you, but I will not waste my time on a fool like you."
Gabriella's smile was gone, killed by her own hands. She glared at Jean. Her anger became something thick, engulfing the air around her. "Jean, I think you have forgotten your manners. I would ask you to consider your words more thoroughly. I don't know what strange powers you have, but they don't elevate you above me."
Jean's eye twitched, and he clenched his hands into fists. "They do, Gabriella. I give you one final chance. Give me one reason why I shouldn't tear you limb from limb."
Gabriella's smile returned at the threat like a child thrilled to be invited to play. "I already mentioned the Inquisition, but you do not care. It would not be in your interest to kill me, as you still need me. You see, before I killed Papa, I took my time with him."
"Didn't you say you made short work of him?" Liron asked.
"Short for me. But it felt long to him. It would have been a waste to lose all his knowledge. So, I squished everything out of him I could. Thanks to that, I found all his hidden records. On the Resistance, and all he gathered on the Inquisition.
"Jean, did you know that Grand Inquisitor Hyal Euse considers Adenius Klang as his successor? He thinks his extreme methods will be what it takes to purge the Empire of all heresy. He wants a hound that wipes out all Resistance influence from the Empire. This mission, the execution of Emma Sturm and the elimination of Liron Sturm, is supposed to be the last proof he is capable of leading the Inquisition. Can you imagine that? The Inquisition not in the hands of the Sleepy Snake but in Adenius'? Needless to say, I destroyed all of Papa's records. They're all up here now," she said, tapping against her head.
Jean studied her, an impossible task. Her face never faltered under the pressure of Jean. It remained as calm as before, satisfied with all. "Do you have intel on Adenius and Kupferrang? Anything we can use?"
Gabriella shrugged. "I have lived all my life here. Even without Papa's writings, I could aid you. Papa hadn't gathered much on Adenius. He's still an unknown, but Papa had some intel on the bureau."
"It's not for me to decide," Jean said, struggling to speak these words out loud, "but you could be an asset. I will take you back to our base of operation. You will not be allowed to move without surveillance from a Resistance agent. Should you try anything, you will die. Have you understood?"
Gabriella clapped her hands. "Of course, I have, Jean. You made me into the happiest girl in all of Kupferrang."
Jean rose from the table, his chair falling over. He stomped out of the house, the floors crying out as his feet pressed into them. Gabriella stood up with elegance, carrying the plate back into the kitchen. She walked out of it with five kitchen knives. She wrapped them in a cloth, holding it close to her chest. Gabriella gave Liron a smile and followed Jean outside.
Liron stood there for a moment, his knife disappearing. He massaged his jaw as he left the house. Jean glared at him. "Took you long enough," he said. "We need to hurry. The streets will be flooded with people."
The Silvermoon was on its descent. As soon as the residents of Kupferrang were done with their work, they would join whatever gathering was nearby, joining in the celebration. Near Gabriella's house, a priest stood on a box, giving a speech to a crowd of people. Angin had mentioned that cities like Kupferrang had churches with priests that stayed there. Harras' messengers were never far off. Unlike townsfolk, city people didn't have to wait to see them.
The priest was too far off to make out what he said. Liron only heard pieces of it, Emma's name and his included. He hissed, turning away from it. Jean took the lead, Liron and Gabriella following behind him.
"So," Gabriella said, looking at Liron. "Who are you really?"
Liron eyed her, people passing them by at a consistent pace. "That's… not relevant. We work for the same guys. That's all that matters."
"My," she said, studying him like a riddle she wanted to solve. For no other gain than the pleasure of having done it. "You are rather interesting, Emil."
"Yeah… I've heard that before."
"So, since when have you become a Wizard?"
Liron looked around them, keeping his voice low. "Could you, please, not speak that loud."
"I was about to say," Jean said. "If you need to talk, do it quietly!"
If glares could kill, Jean would have died a long and painful death. "So," she whispered, "for how long?"
"Not too long. Only… figured it out lately?"
"Why?"
"Why… I became a Wizard?"
"Yes. You don't strike me as someone that thirsts for battle. Then why become something as low as a Wizard?"
Not this again. "You don't like Wizards? But… aren't you becoming one, too? Potentially?"
"Of course, but only because I have to. To accept these abilities is to debase yourself. One only desires them because they have nothing else."
Jean snorted. Gabriella had a gift to lure the Homunculus' humanity out of him. His mask offered no defense to her irrationality. Liron frowned. He failed and tried again to gain a proper picture of Gabriella. But every word she said, every mimic she did, confused him more. He could have drawn the eternal rhythm of the wind itself, capturing all its complexity, rather than understand her.
But there would be no harm in trying. Jean was correct. She might be a valuable asset. And Angin had told him to learn to cooperate with others. "Say, Gabriella… what's with the kitchen knives?"
Gabriella beamed. "My, thank you for asking. I'm dying to explain it. They are my trusted weapon of choice, of course. I will enter battle with them."
"Kitchen knives?"
"I will cut my name into the stars themselves with them. Where it belongs. Where no one can question it anymore."
"Mm-hmm."
"You are doubting. Foolish yet understandable. Let it be known that my dear Üapa fell victim to them. They never refused their service to me. No matter how deep I cut into him. You see, Liron, their purpose is to prepare and sever. But that is an ignorant view of them. They reveal. They take away all your opponent has until their core is open for all to see. Thanks to them, I will learn and grow."
Liron didn't ask again. Anything.
Gabriella did, though, showering both in questions. Liron took the brunt of it as Jean's irritation increased with each he had to answer. And with each emotional outburst, as controlled as they were, his frustration took deeper root in him, fueling the next one to come. A perfect storm. One Liron didn't want to be close to it when it finally arrived.
As they got closer to their inn, the crowds outside grew. Priests stood scattered around the city. They all took different spots. Not too close to one another but not too far away so no soul in Kupferrang had to wander for too long without hearing their holy words. But they never quoted the holy scripture. Their speeches focused on Emma.
They described Liron's sister as a foul creature, sharing the wicked heart of her brother. Given the time, she would fester into a shadow of the Dread Raven, his herald, announcing all the agony he would bring. Harras Himself expected them to end her life before this could happen. Her relation to the Ravenspawn prohibited her from salvation as a Sinner. Her cursed blood could not be cleansed. It could only be burned.
Liron wondered whether one dead priest would be one too many. With the right distraction, they would be united with Harras within a heartbeat. A blessing they truly deserved. His hands opened themselves, the knife awaiting his order. Echoes of the same wrath that had claimed him during his battle against Amor pulsated in his fingers. It would have been too easy. The satisfaction he would taste as the rats would taste the priests' blood.
But he would taste Emma's death, too. He relaxed, pushing aside his rage. Gabriella had watched him, her smile lessening as he didn't act on his instincts.
While the speeches riled up the people listening, they provided them with Bliss, too. Their irises enlarged themselves, and their roars escaped lips drenched in a trance Liron knew all too well. Experiencing them, he had taken them as the proof of Harras' existence. Where else did they come from if not from Him?
But even if Harras watched over them all, Liron had learned to hate Him. He had to, as his future would lead into conflict with His chosen ones. If only he had known that his last midnight mass was his last. Nothing had touched him as the Bliss had. Light as a cloud, he had been freed from all sorrow. His life had appeared to have a purpose, revealed to him in those moments of ecstasy. Only for a night, but a thirsting man would kill for drops.
Bastards all that listened to these lies, but in his weaker moments, Liron would have wanted to be one of them. Ignorance blinded. Curse or blessing, Liron couldn't always tell.
His parents were never mentioned. Liron hadn't asked Angin what might have happened to them. The uncertainty hollowed out his bones from the inside, but the truth could be too much to bear. He wanted to have hope, if only for a few days more.
Fueled by the Bliss, the people's restraint was taken from them. They howled into the sky, danced, and embraced each other like long-lost siblings reunited. So much joy. Even if it didn't come from such a wicked source, Liron grimaced upon seeing it. One should be happy with their life, but it should be dampened by the hardships of living. Such intensity spoke for shared delusions.
Had he behaved like this when experiencing the Bliss? Liron missed it a little less.
The Silver Moon climbed down, starting to vanish behind the walls when they reached the inn. Unlike yesterday, it was nearly empty, only a handful of people sitting there. All older men, staring into their mugs. Their faces were twisted into a constant state of glaring. Joy would find no home in their features, a hated enemy that needed killing once he arrived.
The barkeeper appeared pleased by a calmer night, cleaning his counter. After satiating her thirst for answers, Gabriella had ceased to ask away at them. They walked up the stairs in silence. As Jean unlocked the door, about to enter, he stopped, holding up a hand, signaling all to wait.
He narrowed his eyes, staring at something in the room. Without a sign, he dashed backwards, shoving Liron and Gabriella out of the way.
"Careful, you ruffian," Gabriella said.
"Jean, what is it?" Liron asked.
Jean hissed, pointing into the room. "Are you blind? Look!"
Gabriella noticed first, grinning. Liron tensed up, searching the room with his eyes. There he saw it, glittering in the Silverlight. Faint, only visible when it was too late. Strings. No, webs. Spiderwebs, singular strings of them, covered the room. Jean had nearly broken one, the door having pushed against it. Tiny ice crystals grew out of it, reflecting the Silverlight.
Liron understood the reactions of both his companions. First, these webs were the ones they could see, with many more hidden throughout the room. Second, someone had entered the inn while they were gone and had prepared a trap for them.
Gabriella pulled out a kitchen knife, happier than the crowd outside relishing in the Bliss. "All I need, Liron, all I need."