White Shadows, Cha 1 Part 2

The girl fell, gasping for air and contorting in pain, a couple of meters away from the strength of the infernal blow. But her strategy and tactic had paid off.

The Bishop had expected his sudden movement to take the sacred avenger off-guard. He has miscalculated. As the Bishop had pulled her, she had jumped forward, using the inquisitor's own strength for momentum, her sword slashing above her head. The weapon had hit Hedrin in the head, embedding itself on his skull and slicing his brain in two as his fist punched the assassin's chest and sent her away.

If not for Iomedae and her goddess's blessings she might have died too. Thanking both of them she stood up, trembling and panting with the effort. She walked slowly toward the dead bishop. He had fallen to his knees and his head bent backwards in the place he had died.

The assassin retrieved her sword, the movement tipping the balance of the body and as it felt to the ground she cut its head off. The girl grabbed and stuffed it into a bag as quickly as she could before hiding among the shadows once more, sheathing her blade. Panting with the effort, her hand moved toward her chest, her voice filled with an angel's sweet song. A warm and soft silver light radiated from her hand as she prayed, the light filling her with strength and courage as it healed her internal wound, her ribs mending painlessly by the will of her goddess.

Mirage thanked her goddesses for their blessings and moved from her hiding spot, her fingers brushing against her collar as she moved. Comforting celestial words wrapped around her body as she felt herself embraced by angelic wings hiding her from all danger.

The sacred avenger moved among priests, guards and champions slowly, without drawing attention to her. She retraced the path she had followed before assaulting the Bishop, moving into the darkness of the abyss, her trust in her goddess unfaltering.

*****

The temple woke into a frenzied state of alarm within a few minutes of the explosion. The strident noise and the fire having brought the attention of most guards to its origin and with the Hauptmann Karessa barely alive, but unconscious after the attack, there was no one to organize them. It took even longer for the archbishop to come up and form them into searching parties, both to check on everyone of the high priesthood, and to search for the attacker within the temple.

Within a few minutes one of the watchmeisters came back saluting.

"Holiness, permission to speak!" said the man at the top of his lungs.

Fortunately for the man, Archbishop Fortuna was not interested in subtleties right then and just nodded. A simple nod in the archbishop's usually unresponsive features was the only thing the soldier waited to begin with his report.

"Holiness, reporting that we found Inquisitor Hedrin, dead a few steps from the chapel." said the man respectfully. "At least we assume it's him, his head is missing."

This called Fortuna's attention. That fact mixed with the silver stakes left in both dead soldiers, made him certain of what had happened.

"And the assassin?" The Archbishop Fortuna said without wavering, with a confidence he did not feel.

The watchmeister shook his head. "Nothing yet Holiness, but we are confident on finding him soon. He couldn't leave the place."

The archbishop only nodded. "Look for a 'she' and keep searching. Don't fail me." The tone implied that if they didn't find the assassin there would be hell to pay.

"Yes Holiness," said the young watchmeister before moving away.

Archbishop Fortuna sighed and moved toward his chambers. He didn't tell the guards, but he was sure the assassin had already escaped. Let them begin their punishment for this failure. Still Fortuna regretted not being able to catch this one. The Sisters of Sublime Sacrifice were a notorious group since their recent inception. Yet the high echelons within the Hierarchy of Hell, as Asmodeous' church was known by some, discounted them with arrogance. But not him, Archbishop Fortuna secretly admired their dedication. There was little information about the Sisters, but it was common knowledge that they had been charged by their founder, a patron saint subservient to a greater power, to hunt the enemies of their founder's faith, even if that implied being disavowed by said faith.

All in all the balance was in his favor; one of his rivals had been murdered by an enemy faith. This called for a crusade, and with him in the lead, Asmodeous's enemies will tremble, and surely the He, the Prince of Darkness, would gift his loyal servant with honor and power.

Archbishop Fortuna, distracted by his dreams of glory and power closed the door behind him, unaware of a shadow hiding behind it. There hid Mirage, Sister of the Sublime Sacrifice, her sword drawn, waiting patiently to finish her original assignment. Bishop Hedrin had been on her list, but he had served better as a tool to lower the archbishop's guard. Now, in the name of her goddess with this man's death Cheliax would move a step closer to recovering its lost innocence.

As Mirage raised her sword behind Archbishop Fortuna, she realized the cost of her actions - her freedom, her blood, her soul. All of them were a fair price for her land's freedom.