Rana sat against the wall in a dimly lit cave, still and with parchments of paper in her hand and littered around her. She stared at the crude writing on the pages of the scroll and subconsciously caressed its obsidian edges with her fingers. She did not feel the grainy crust dig into her skin, but she did feel the mana humming inside the thin piece of paper. For the first time ever since she became a zombie, she was uncertain about how to proceed.

It was not that she was stuck with the contents within the scrolls. There were no difficulties in deciphering the research notes. Whoever written them thought that it was enough to obfuscate their intention by hiding the contents behind vague terms of ancient knowledge. The note was designed to only be read by those possessing a lost knowledge the writer believed only they had discovered. Unfortunately for him, Rana possessed that lost knowledge of centuries ago, something that was a mandatory study for her profession.

What she found out was that the Church was researching inquisitor technology so that they could reacquire the lost arts and use them to aid their fight against monsters. What folly. If she were still an inquisitor she would’ve marched towards whoever ordered such a task and burned them all for violating their oaths.

Paladins were the sword against the fangs of monsters, and inquisitors were the shield against the darkness of the human heart. It was a truth that kept the orders and humanity at peace.

Then it all came crashing down when her sister raised her blade against fellow men.

When Mara destroyed the inquisitor orders, wiping their existence off the pages of history, the whereabouts of their remnants became a mystery. For years the Church attempted to bring the orders back and the writer was one such researcher. However, the allure of powers unknown were great and he abandoned his duty and fled the Church with his findings. It was not an uncommon occurrence. Rana had her fair share of executing those corrupted by a thirst for power. The writer hid himself in the settlement, yet without the backing of the Church, his research reached a dead end.

The research itself did not interest her. Rana already knew most of what was discovered by the writer. However, what interested her was a secret missive, one that most certainly contained the location and object of their next destination. Unlocking the missive was not difficult. The Church improved their wards, but they were still only light work for a grand inquisitor to unravel. What bothered her was what she was about to do and what it entailed.

Rana shifted her gaze to the moon-kin sitting in another corner treating to her wounds and nibbling on what looked like smoked meat. The avian monster caught the zombie’s stare and the eyes beneath the mask narrowed.

“Do you not have an object that needs to be done rather than staring at me, or do you wish for me to feed you?” the moon-kin said and she stopped tucking food under her mask.

“I wonder,” Rana mused. She was quiet for some time, but when she noticed the fiend stare at her, she continued. “My sense of taste is no more and I only need to consume life essence if my health needed recovering. I see no point in you feeding me.”

“Do you miss being able to taste the sweetness of fruits?”

“No. Food is sustenance. It was never a luxury. I consume to maintain my life.”

“Yet you refused to consume human flesh.”

That was true. Was Rana willing to cross the line? Did the line exist at all? She wanted to be angry at the fiend for even suggesting such a thing, but there was no anger, only silence and contemplation. She realized she had no answer for the reason of her choice.

“Zombie—”

“Just Rana.”

“It is clear you have something to ask of me. Speak what is on your mind. I tire of the schemes you are playing at.”

“There are always schemes, moon-kin. Decisions made without consideration leads to failure, and in this world we live in, failure often means death. What you consider scheme is simply the foundation of every good decision making. I am simply considering the best approach to what I am about to ask.”

“Excuses by those who skid shadows and hide their evil intentions.”

“Is that why you wear a mask?”

“Rana, is your death reason enough to cease your delays?”

“Yes, that is something I considered. How long could I continue before we come to blows? Alas, that is also the reason for this prolonged conversation. I have already decided on our next course of action. Here.”

Rana handed Alpheia the secret missive. The moon-kin snarled at the zombie but nonetheless took the scroll. She wondered why she would mess with the fiend, as it was unlike her to meander in such a way even if she was presented with troubling implications. Was she scared of what she’ll find out? Yet what was more terrifying than the void of death?

“The true message behind the missive could only be revealed by solving the wards implanted within the scroll. However, I could not do so due to my undead state. Whoever written it used the light element of mana to inscribe the runes. So, you will have to undo the wards with my guidance.”

“That does not sound like an issue worth hesitating over. Is there a chance of failure, or would there be risks involved?”

“No,” Rana said. There was no risk nor could they fail as long as she guided the fiend. However, what scared her was in succeeding, and what she would see while guiding the fiend. If they were to succeed, then along with her revival, another truth would then threaten what she used to believe in. “I simply am unsure whether or not you will allow my mana to tap into your mana core. Your Status would be revealed to me.”

“I have nothing to hide,” the moon-kin said, but her tone made it clear she doubted that was why Rana was hesitant. However, soon Rana felt a smirk beneath the mask. “Even if you were to know of my Status, I will not lose to you in combat.”

“If you say so,” Rana said with a slight chuckle. She then walked towards the fiend and offered her hand but Alpheia stood without taking it. The moon-kin began a slow hum, a soothing ring began to emit from her throat. It was a song. Rana felt the mana core forming and a strong surge of crimson flashes began to bubble within the moon-kin. “You ready?”

Alpheia, still with her eyes closed, nodded. Rana then stood behind the moon-kin and placed her palm on the feathery back. There was no turning back nor was there anything to be feared. The truth should never be feared.

Rana took a deep breath and braced for what was to come.