In the aftermath of freeing Erratic Judgement from the grasp of Eminence; Anastacia, Emilia, King and Leggy were eager to leave the endless stone tunnels behind and wasted no time before starting their trek back up to the surface. With the help of the sole remaining member of The Wrath Core, the necromancer was freed from the pieces of stone armor stuck to her, but even the custodian couldn’t tell what exactly resulted from the simulacrum core inserted into her shoulder. She did however demonstrate that it was safe to remove the core from its socket and disable its effects – though it was left uncertain whether unit twelve knew it to be safe before taking it out, or if it was more of a guess and a risk she was willing to force Anastacia to take.

Unit twelve herself informed Erratic Judgement that there were people capable or at least attempting to recreate the methods her kind was created through, and that she needed time off from her duties to contact the rest of her kind about the matter. In her absence, the two copies of Anastacia would remain behind as the guardians and custodians of the fortress. Apple, who had a vast understanding of the simulacra, would begin to repair some of the damage done and see if there were knights or other simulacra she would be able to save. The nameless necromancer was freed from the corruption but remained somewhat scarred by the experience, she did however, have the power necessary to guard the fort in its dire shortage of knights, whose ranks had thinned far too much to remain effective.

On their way up, the exhausted party met with the first emissaries of The Firstborn, who had gained the permission to enter the fortress. With them was Brother Malus, who informed the adventurers that their side of the initial deal regarding attempting to repair Spirit, the half broken and maliciously enchanted simulacrum Anastacia had brought to valor, would be fulfilled when the adventurers returned to the goblin castle. To the site where they first met. Brother Malus also offered Leggy, or Sister Pyrus, the chance to once more join The Firstborn, but the venator had made her choice and embraced her new role as the housecarl of the goblin queen. This caused no ill will among the servants of The Prince of Life. If anything, they were happy that one of their kind had found a new purpose for their eternal entrapment in their mechanical bodies, and the groups parted ways in good spirits.

For the entire uneventful trip upwards, Emilia could feel Anastacia’s stare glued to her back and saw plenty of suspicious glances whenever they stopped to rest. Other than that, the necromancer’s behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary, she spent much of the trip stuck onto King and spoke about her usual nonsensical topics. To the priestess, it seemed like she was being surveyed for some unknown reason, and whenever she tried to bring it up, Anastacia would just deny the matter entirely. With this slightly cautious but ultimately exhaustedly relaxed mood, the four found themselves back in the elevator to the surface. This time they didn’t bother with the pedestal in the middle, but instead spent the entire slow ascent sleeping as much as they could.

Finally, after several days without seeing the sun, or the sky in general, without fresh air or company of their friends, the adventurers woke to the friendly thunk of the elevator stopping at the top of its shaft. The chamber, only a brief corridor from outside, was filled with freezing cold winter air Anastacia and Emilia weren’t quite prepared for. They gathered their gear and emerged into the field of snow that reflected the moonlight well enough for them to see all the way to the town in the distance. The heavy stone door behind them closed only moments after they had passed, and all signs of life from the monolithic fortress disappeared. The obelisks that had risen from the ground outside, had retracted back down and a fresh coat of snow had covered the upturned earth. If one was to look at the scene without the knowledge of what had transpired deep within the fortress, it would have been fair to assume that absolutely nothing had happened at all. The massive structure remained as a dark, silent silhouette against the night sky, and likely would have done just the same had things gone sour for the adventurers.

Seeing the open field in front of them, for the first time it properly dawned on Anastacia how ridiculously massive the fortress had been. When inside, she had just shrugged off chambers larger than the field itself and corridors long enough to reach all the way to Valor, all of which were now almost entirely vacant.

“Well, that happened.” The necromancer summed up their underground adventure and stared at the stars above them. “I got copied into three versions of myself, became a half-simulacrum and saw the end of the world. You found out that there’s some kind of nightmare creature in you, made a pact with the said creature and smeared most of the fortress in blood. Oh! Also, King died for a bit and Leggy got a job.”

The priestess nodded and smirked. “Fairly standard then?”

“Absolutely.” Anastacia chuckled and started drudging towards the town. “Can’t wait to see Gil, and you know, people – anyone really. Bet you’re missing someone too, eh? Ehh?”

“I am, but you don’t need to be obnoxious about it. We get enough of that from Xamiliere.” Emilia sighed and considered pushing the necromancer into the snow. “Why don’t you do that to Gil and Yulia instead?”

Anastacia stopped in her tracks. “Why would I… Wait, WHAT?!” She exclaimed. She tried to pry more information out of the priestess but was shrugged off.

Suddenly King saw something in the distance and stopped the group. Roughly halfway between them and the town was a strange tree-like structure with something large dangling from it, and a huge hunched over figure kneeled by it.

It didn’t take long for the adventurers to spot some violet feathers scattered around, and notice the four wings on the impaled creature. However, as soon as they realized that they had once more found Eminence, and that the sage hadn’t made it far from the fortress. The giant figure by it struck something against the ground, which activated a bright beacon of white light, that quickly focused into a searchlight and was directed at the group.

Anastacia shielded her eyes from the light, but recognized the searchlight from when The Firstborn first approached them in the goblin castle. She waved at the being illuminating them, which seemed to be enough for it and the light dimmed down.

Warily, they approached the sage’s carcass as the creature by it seemed to allow them passage. Once the part was close enough to see things in detail, they realized their worries were unfounded. Not only was the sage dead, the being standing by him was a simulacrum, and judging by the exposed veins running along some of the light patterns in its armor, affiliated with The Firstborn. Even in its hunched over pose, the simulacrum was at least six meters tall, but very frail for its size. Its long, thin legs were attached to an almost snake-like spine that would have straightened out for a few more meters, had the creature decided to stand up. Below its shoulders, a few longer ribs created a metal cage that hosted a twitching mass of flesh. Its arms, elongated like everything else about this particular machine, ended in large, seven-fingered claws that tightly clutched onto a massive staff. At the tip of the staff was a metal box that held a large lens – presumably the source of light the simulacra had used. The worn-down hunk of stone plates that roughly resembled a canine skull and functioned as the machine’s head turned to look at the comparably small quartet as they walked closer.

“Evening.” Anastacia greeted the simulacrum. “I take it that you’re with The Firstborn?”

The simulacrum slowly nodded.

“I hope you know what you’re watching over.” The necromancer noted and pointed at the dead sage. “Do you mind if I have a look?”

The large simulacrum nodded again.

Taking that as a permission to inspect the scene, Anastacia took a few steps closer to get a better look at the tree-like formation of bone shards. Not only could she feel the traces of necromancy in them, she recognized the style.

“Looks like Maya counts as red… Makes sense, I guess.” She diagnosed the situation and put her hand over the shoulder the inquisitor had impaled when the two briefly battled.

“Is he dead? For good this time.” Emilia asked a bit nervously.

“As far as I can tell.” The necromancer shrugged and took a step back to talk to the simulacrum guarding the remains. “You guys probably know what to do with this thing about as well as I do, so I’ll leave it to you. Just… don’t touch it, okay? He was a nightmare to deal with.”

Once more, receiving a nod as a response, the adventurers left Eminence’s corpse in the care of the simulacra. Neither Anastacia or Emilia wanted to even think about the sage ever again, so the responsibility was easy to give up for anyone willing to take it. Eminence’s death was a welcome surprise nonetheless, and even Anastacia accepted the fact that the new inquisition might deserve a slightly less harshly worded thank you for the deed.

Judging by the candles and lanterns shining in the windows of Ruvenstead, the town’s defenses had held for as long as they had needed to, but Anastacia noticed something noteworthy when they reached the settlement’s edge.

“Hmm, there’s only one necromancer left here, and they’re not doing well.” She pointed out. “I think it’s the annoying one. She feels… withered?”

“Are the others dead?” The priestess worried and hastened her steps.

Anastacia looked around for a few seconds. “Not here at least, they might have just left once the danger passed. The weak one is gone too, so maybe they escorted him and the baby back to Mournvalley?” She theorized after not being able to feel anything that could have been a corpse of a considerably powerful necromancer. “And besides, necromancers would get furious over something like that, not like… whatever this is.”

Following Emilia’s lead, they rushed through the town to the inn they had left Gilbert and the inquisitors in. Aside from some bothered looks through the windows from the people that remembered Anastacia destroying one of their warehouses, everything in Ruvenstead seemed perfectly peaceful. Most of its residents were either asleep or on their way to bed, the streets were filled with footprints that confirmed the town’s return to business as usual and the oppressive mood had lifted from the entire area.

Too exhausted to bother with knocking, the priestess yanked open the inn’s door and the party finally found itself back in the warmth of a fireplace.

Though the scent of pipe tobacco he almost always spread might as well have been a greeting at this point, Gilbert was the first to speak. “Welcome back. Did you four have fun?” He smiled.

“We had something alright, but I’ll let Anna tell you.” Emilia said and dropped everything she was hauling by the door. “How are things on your end?”

“A lot happened a few days ago, but me and the town are just peachy – not so sure I can say the same about her.” The old adventurer sighed and pointed to the corner of the room with his pipe.

Huddled in her blue robes, Iris sat on the floor, blankly staring at the tiny flame of the candle in front of her. She clearly hadn’t noticed anyone coming in, which was rather odd considering Anastacia’s presence should have been about as subtle as a volley of cannon fire to other necromancers. The lone inquisitor appeared paler and thinner than before, and the delighted smirk, so unusual for her kind, was completely gone.

“When that bird thing appeared, Maya managed to kill it on the spot, but she and Cobalt resigned from the inquisition to go and hunt down the ‘Violet Sect’ or something – she’s been like that since then, and honestly not much better even before that.” Gilbert explained, for now sticking to the version of the story that didn’t include his and Cobalt’s chat. “Laurenth left to bring the child to Mournvalley and put me in charge of her. So, I’ve made sure she eats and sleeps, but that’s the end of my means, I’m afraid.”

The priestess gestured for Anastacia to join Gilbert’s table and recount what happened underground, which the necromancer did gladly, though in far too much detail in some places and completely glancing over some more important parts. She then pulled up a chair to the corner and sat down to see if there was something she could do.

“Iris.” Emilia called out, but didn’t get a reaction at first. “Iris!” She repeated and covered the flame with her hand.

The inquisitor flinched awake and looked up. Interestingly, her first reaction was the same suspicious look Anastacia had met the priestess with at the bottom of the fort. She warily poked at Emilia’s arm, as if to make sure she was actually there and became somewhat relieved when she could feel the cold metal with her fingers.

“Oh, hello! Didn’t see you coming back!” Iris greeted her with a puzzled look on her face. Though she sounded excited as usual, it was obviously faked to hide a fatigued tone and easy to see through even by someone who only barely knew her.

Emilia pulled the inquisitor’s hood down to reveal a hairdo that was messy even for Iris. “I hear you’ve been mighty despondent while we were gone. I know you lost your wings, but to me this doesn’t seem like that’s the problem here. So why don’t you explain what’s going on?” She asked calmly.

Iris visibly pondered lying and disregarding her issues, but a single glance at the tired priestess made it feel like those lies would have come at a cost. “Do… do you ever just feel like you’ve just failed, failed, failed and failed more, and now have no answers left – for anything?” She uttered miserably.

“What have you failed then? Seems to me like this town is still standing at least.” The priestess inquired.

“Everything I was supposed to do. I was supposed to guide the others to do the right thing, and ever since Alice died, to make sure we stick together. But no matter what I do, we turn to the old ways as soon as there’s trouble. It’s like no matter what I decide, it’s wrong and backs us into a corner we have to murder our way out of. Again and again and again and again, I steer everyone in the wrong direction. They like to blame Anastacia for everything that goes wrong because that’s convenient, but it’s actually just me, guiding them into a failure again.” The inquisitorial saint sighed and sank further into the corner. “Alice managed to keep us together too, but I can’t do it. Teal probably abandoned us since we haven’t heard from him in a while, and with him gone, Sapphire isn’t going to be around for long. Periwinkle just up and disappeared. And now I’ve gone and managed to lose Cobalt and Maya too! And… I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

The priestess listened patiently as she tried to understand the situation.

“I’m just not as good as the others and I have no idea why I was even chosen to the inquisition at all. Cyan has basically fixed our economy on his own. Duke’s spy network is larger than ever before. Celeste has royalty and diplomats wrapped around her finger. Sapphire has our borders secured even with Maya gone… It’s just me who can’t do my job.” Iris continued and smiled faintly in defeat. “In comparison, my task of simply giving answers is laughably easy, but I can’t manage it, I don’t have any answers anymore…”

Emilia kept nodding as she pondered what to say, but from the way Iris spoke and stared at the flame, she could tell that there was something else the necromancer wanted to say. “And the candle?” She asked.

“Oh! I kind of wanted to talk to you about it… You see, after you healed Maya and I could hear the voice in the fire, I realized that maybe this goddess would have answers for me as well!” The inquisitor suddenly explained excitedly, in total contrast to her earlier tone. “So, I lit a candle and prayed for… days, I think? So that maybe I could hear the voice again!”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not exactly how that works…” The priestess apologized for what she figured must have been futile efforts that achieved nothing for anyone who wasn’t chosen by Sylvia herself.

Iris grabbed Emilia’s hands and squeezed them. “BUT IT DID! The flame spoke to me! It told me to take Maya out to the fields, and sure enough there was the thing Cobalt said only she could beat.”

Emilia was at a loss for words, especially when the voice in her head confirmed the story. According to Sylvia herself, Eminence’s defeat was something that absolutely needed to happen. So, when an opportunity presented itself in the form of a red necromancer and someone who had heard her voice before, she had gone to great lengths to see it done.

“That’s why you need to let me join your cult! I’ll serve this voice too! Of course, I need to go back to Mournvalley at some point, but I can learn from your teachings and from the voice. That way I might be able to do a better job!” The inquisitor suggested, perhaps a little too excitedly and picked up the candle, as if showing it somehow made her point.

Emilia rubbed her brow. An elite necromancer trying to join her church wasn’t something she had prepared for – ever, so she really didn’t know what to say. She had her own grievances for the deity, which she needed to tackle as well, but at the same time, teachings about joy, kindness and love certainly wouldn’t go amiss in Mournvalley.

“First of all, it’s not a cult. It’s a proper church and I’m in the process of trying to get a space for a shrine.” She said, clearing what she thought was the most important thing. “Secondly, can I teach you? Yes. But, and this is something I need you to understand perfectly: Do not use Lady Sylvia’s teachings to rule. You have quite a mess of misconceptions writhing around in your head, and I do firmly believe that My Lady can be of some help to you in regards of regaining your poise. However, as I understand, you hold a position quite high up in Mournvalley and have influence over much of it, so if you ever so much as suggest using Sylvia’s name to justify your actions or words, you will wish I had unleashed Anastacia on you.”

The priestess’ words were full of fire and cinder as she warned Iris, so much so that the necromancer had to back down slightly, which likely wasn’t a common occurrence.

“But…” Emilia said in a much gentler voice. “There was a time, when a certain young necromancer I know agonized over her own supposed responsibilities. She has since come a long way, and in all honestly, following her as much as you’d follow us would go a long way in regards to your problems.” She smiled and pointed at Anastacia, right as said necromancer happened to look over to see what was up.

“What?” Anastacia asked with an already annoyed look on her face.

The priestess pushed Iris closer to the goblin queen. “You’re in charge of Iris for some time.”

“The fuck I am.” Anastacia protested until Emilia pretended to make yet another note about her use of foul language and docked a fraction of her pay for the next quest.