Chương 165: 79. Should Have Seen It Coming

Lady Lori doesn't scream or cry or curse my name, after my confession. I almost wish that she would, but she doesn't even look at me. Instead, she just looks intensely contemplative—lost in thoughts that I can only guess at. The rest of the forum is more vocal, with everyone from the arbiter to the gallery clamoring to shout over each other until Tamara, of all people, stamps her hoof once with a supernaturally loud echo.

"Silence, all of you," she demands, and through the power of what I can only assume is one of her skills, the crowd complies.

"I'm afraid, Miss Maev, that in light of this confession, I must withdraw both my offer of sponsorship, and the provisional support of my house to grant you residency." I suppose that's fair. She already knew all of that—or most of it—but I understand that there's a difference between what you know, and what you're known to know. That doesn't mean I have to like it, but I'd probably make the same decision in her position.

"Understood," I reply simply.

"Since we—" I let out an exasperated sigh, " apparently don't care what happens to us, I won't argue. But Reyna attacked first— after being told not to." Lady Shaa crosses her arms, scowling at me from her podium.

"So you claim, but your only proof is the word of a self-avowed murderer." It might be, but there's one other thing I can add, if they'll even accept it.

"I have a spell," I offer.

"It lets me show memories." Well, dreams, but that particular nightmare is one that's been haunting us so vividly that it may as well be the same thing. Besides, I don't trust my language skills enough to elaborate the difference in Fa'aun. Maybe I should have been the one to take [Linguist]. The arbiter, perhaps worried that she's losing control over her own tribunal, clears her throat for attention.

"Resident Maev, I do not believe you are registered as a licensed spellcaster through either the University, the Church, or your sponsor." Thanks to my conversations with Anna, I actually have a reply to this.

"My thaumaturgy skill comes from a pre-existing class," I explain.

"I practice only in private, and with the permission of my host." A canned response, but it earns me a nod from the arbiter, and Lady Goa is quick to back me up.

"I can confirm that, as can Lady Faarah," she says.

"It was in my daughter's report, and confirmed by tier one appraisal. I move to allow it—with the Lady High Inquisitor here, we have little to fear from manipulation or illusion from a tier two spellcaster." I meet her eyes for a moment, and though neither of us makes any gestures, I understand that the second part was a warning. Not that I have any spells to manipulate the crowd, but she's telling me that Lady Shaa has skills to counter any sort of magical deception on my part.

"Any objections, Lady Shaa?" the arbiter asks.

"We'll see," she replies, lifting her chin in my direction.

"Do it, then." Okay, I hadn't actually thought this far ahead. I don't know how faithful an image my [Oneiric Mirage] can actually manage, and I don't think it has any sound, but it's all I have. I'll just have to rely on Reverie's memory and how firmly that event has rooted itself in our subconscious. Casting the spell is a bit like solving a puzzle I already know by heart. Much easier than creating it, but not so trivial that I can just do it on a whim.

Not all spells are like that, but I guess this one demands a bit more concentration. A hazy mist begins to form around me, resolving into the shape of a familiar cavern. A pair of ornate double doors, glowing mana stones on sconces, my damp clothes hanging, and a featureless humanoid statue set into an alcove right next to me. I find myself wedged into the alcove next to the Guardian statue as four figures emerge from the tunnel leading out.

Even in this hazy, translucent form, the sight of it makes my skin prickle and crawl, and my mouth goes dry. I don't want to be witnessing this either.

"Violet, can you maintain the spell while I take the front?" Eva asks.

"I think I can best explain what we are witnessing." I haven't forgotten the way she described these events to us the first time. Can I really trust her to represent us?

"If not for you, please trust that I will do this for Draga," I plead. Apparently Vi has made her choice, consciously or otherwise. I can still feel the slight pressure on my soul as she maintains the spell, but she remains in control as the scene continues.

"Don't make me regret this," she mutters. I hope I don't. Though I had my doubts, Maev made the right choice in the end, and I credit them for that. I believe that the Goddess will reward us for following the right path. The four Fa'aun, a noble priestess and her entourage, enter the cave, and Lady Kiera calls out silently.

"Who's there?" I recite from memory.

"She calls out twice."

"You remember all that?" Allie asks, surprised.

"Every night," I mutter under my breath.

"I remembered my dreams even before taking the class." Sure enough, the image calls out again, more forcefully the second time. The mirage doesn't include us, since it's from our perspective, but for the benefit of the audience, I play our part by peeking out from behind the alcove wall. All four heads instantly snap to attention.

"This is all very impressive," the High Inquisitor interrupts.

"But it could easily be a fabrication."

"The spell is [Oneiric Mirage]," I provide, letting them read the details.

"It takes images from our subconscious. I swear by the Goddess that what you see is as we experienced it."

"And the words?"

"She hasn't lied yet," Lady Goa comments.

"I can read lips. I'll intervene if she attempts to misconstrue the words of my niece or her companions. I presume you won't challenge the value of my word, yes?" Lady Shaa begrudgingly inclines her head and gestures for me to continue. Which is good, because the scene didn't stop for their interruption. I speak for each figure as they act.

"An escaped monster," Reyna whispers.

"Is the Guardian damaged?"

"No," Lady Kiera replies tersely. She takes a few wary steps forward, then I slowly emerge from the alcove with my hands up. The four of them tense up, and Kellah averts his eyes. They never noticed that, the first time. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"I should clarify," I say, turning to the arbiter, "that we were entirely naked apart from a cloak."

"Noted," she replies. Meanwhile, Lady Kiera steps forward.

"Who are you?" Rather than recite Maev's entire reply, I opt to just describe it.

"At this point, as we didn't understand the language, we attempted to introduce ourself, explain that we were lost, assure them we meant no harm, and beg for aid," I explain.

"Entirely within the header of a [Message]." Most of the onlookers wince. While most people are much looser in their use of [Message] than rangers or military, that is a mistake that you only tend to make once.

"Not my finest moment," Maggie admits.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." The largest of the four, Goro, collapses in pain, clutching his head, and Lady Kiera whirls around to kick him with her hooves.

"Don't open random messages you moron!" she shrieks. The moment her back is turned, Reyna levels his spear and prepares to strike, but he pauses when she turns around again to point at us.

"You. Message. No."

"I always thought the slow-talk thing was kind of condescending, but it actually worked that time," Maggie notes. So she says, but that makes the next part I have to describe a bit ironic.

"Despite her warning, I responded with two more messages," I explain for the forum." [Accident] and [Sorry]." The arbiter furrows her brows after checking the messages.

"Why was the apology insincere?"

"Because they fucking deserved it," Maggie sneers.

"I felt threatened," I translate diplomatically.

"I truly didn't mean harm, but struggled to sympathize with what I saw as aggressors at the time." It's here where an interesting quirk of this shared body shows its teeth. During the original incident, Maggie and Violet were distracted by an internal argument, but their body continued to stare forward. They may not remember the final moment before disaster—but I do.

"Fine," Lady Kiera sighs.

"It seems we'll need my cousin after all. Let's— Reyna?!" Ignoring his wife's protest, the inquisitor lunges forward. It's hard not to flinch, but I don't move a muscle as his spear's image pierces my left shoulder. As I thought—he wasn't attacking to kill, and it was pure luck that Maggie happened to tumble in the right direction. Mercifully, Violet stops the spell there. Nobody wants to see what happens next. Kiera's image remains frozen, eyes wide with panic and one arm outstretched towards her husband.

"The last thing she said before everything fell apart was 'stop.'" With those final words, the mists dissipate.

"I... I didn't know any of that," Allison whispers.

"I mean, I remember it happening, but even after learning the language, I never pieced together the words." I know. I should have told them earlier, but I feared it would just strengthen their convictions or give them absolution. On a more petty level, I wanted them to keep agonizing over it. It occurs to me, at this moment, that I might not be a very good priestess.

"And what is this meant to prove?" Lady Shaa demands.

"You assaulted one of them, then couldn't even apologize properly. Priestess Kiera may have been late in calling off Inquisitor Reyna, but he was acting on his best judgment as her bodyguard and husband. I personally stand by his choice to attack." Her glare is firm and challenging, the grip on her sword reminding me of the threat she levied earlier.

"Lady High Inquisitor, I admit that it proves very little," I reply, matching her gaze.

"But my faith compels me to uphold the truth, even in the face of those who would quash it by threat of violence." She narrows her eyes, her expression betraying a note of confusion. Ah, so she doesn't know everything. I seize the opportunity to press forward.

"I also have nothing to lose, so I'll say it plainly," I continue.

"I believe the inquisition knew of the convergence break, I believe they knew about the seeds of rebellion beginning to sprout on the frontier, and I believe they knew about the cult remnants attempting to maintain the ritual that brought me here. I believe that they— you knew about all of this, and—" CRACK! A sharp report echoes through the forum, interrupting me at the same time as something punches me in the chest hard enough to send me tumbling backwards into Draga. Despite his chains, he catches me.

"Maev!" he cries.

"Evelyn, keep your eyes open. Breathe." I'm not sure what he's talking about, but then I feel something wet on my shirt followed by an unspeakable pain in my chest, where I was struck.

"Oh fuck, did we just get shot?!" Maggie exclaims.

"To arms!" someone shouts—a man? I try to pay attention to my surroundings, but Draga moves to cover me as more gunshots echo all around us. The forum turns into pandemonium as people start screaming and shouting over each other, trying to escape the threat. Pressing a hand to my chest in an effort to stop the bleeding, I cast my gaze about, trying to make sense of what's happening. Lady Ima lies motionless on her podium, Lori and Mira have already fled, and I see Lord Erik rush to his wife's side."

[Time to Leave], dear!" Lady Goa's eyes widen in shock as she turns to Erik.

"No, wai—!" And then they're gone. An emergency escape skill. That's probably going to cost him. Lady Faarah comes to us.

"Godshit! Of all the times for a rebel attack," she grumbles.

"Stay close to me—nobody will be able to touch us." Rebels? I finally get a good look at what's left of the crowd. Of those not desperately trying to flee, there are two distinct groups—one ragtag group armed with familiar-looking alchemical arms, and a second bearing the insignia of the church rallying against them. Lady Shaa shouts orders to her inquisitors as they fight the rebels.

"That's no coincidence," Violet says.

"This is a planned riot."

"Yeah, I smell a rat," Maggie agrees.

"E'ava, you need to switch with Vi so we can heal." Right. Of course.... How? I'm not staying in front on purpose, but I can't seem to push myself back, either. Plus, there's something nagging at the back of my mind—made a little fuzzy by the blood loss.

"Lady Faarah, your skill is disrupting my inquisitors," High Inquisitor Sabaah Shaa Baanu hisses, effortlessly invading the otherwise inviolable circle of emptiness around the Grandmistress of the Rangers.

"Either disable it, or include them in your aegis." Faarah grimaces.

"It's not that simple, Sabaah. I can include you, but the rest will just have to deal with it until I can evacuate with Maev and Draga."

"Don't trust her!" Allie shouts.

"D-don't—" I gurgle helplessly, but Farrah shushes me.

"Shh, don't talk—you've got a punctured lung," she says.

"Sabaah, she's bleeding out. It would be a lot easier to get out of your way if you could make yourself useful and help her."

"Tsk, fine," the High Inquisitor grumbles. She kneels down next to me and roughly jabs a finger into my chest." [Stabilize Condition]. You can move her now without making anything worse."

"Good," Faarah huffs, moving on to Draga's chains.

"Blood and acid, what a mess. How in all Her names did you manage to let so many slip through your security? You've really stepped in it this time, Sabaah."

"I suppose I may have overplayed my hand," Lady Shaa admits. Then in a single motion, she draws and fires a familiar ornate handgun into the back of Lady Faarah's head. I jump at the sudden display of violence, then stare in mute horror as Faarah slumps over face down in a rapidly expanding pool of her own blood. Lady Shaa tosses the pistol at Draga's feet. The same one he confiscated from us when we first met—Kiera's gun. She sighs.

"It would have been better to get the Goa girl, but Tamara is too canny." Draga surges forward, straining at his chains.

"You monster! I'll kill you for that!"

"A clanless male, murdering his own grandmistress in cold blood," Lady Shaa says, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

"They should have seen it coming. Just as well I was here to witness it and avenge her." The chains snap, and Draga moves faster than I can follow, striking at the High Inquisitor with deadly force. She doesn't so much as flinch, sidestepping the blow so quickly it's as if she simply vanishes from one spot and appears in another. With contemptuous ease, her blade flickers and Draga's body falls to the ground, followed shortly by his head.

"Draga!" I scream in despair, despite the burning pain in my chest worsening with every breath. Sabaah flicks the blood off of her blade, expressionless, before turning to me.

"Messier than I would have liked, but justice is served. As for you, little vessel, you've made things rather troublesome for me, haven't you?"