Chapter 20: Witchhunter

Chapter 20: Witchhunter

Deep within the town of Liontrunk, well past the market square and alchemy laboratories, was a unique building. A constant flow of traffic entered and exited the armored doors, sporting weapons or iron shackles. Some came with their heads high, others befell the lowest lakes of sorrow.

This building catered to a certain type of person, the kind that thought of the law only as a hindrance. The building was for the worst of the worst, the kind of person who committed more than petty crime. Those within were hardened and destitute, often without family or friends to pull them from their wayward ways.

Most were older, past the age of low ranks but before upper echelons of what was possible. Only three were oddly out of place despite sitting amongst the others. First the brute, the physically strongest of the three. Then the rogue, the slippery one. And finally, the mage – well, sort of mage.

Leland’s leg bounced like a trembling muscle, despite being seated on a stone bench. His body wasn’t strained any longer, the ring of regeneration having long pushed him back to peak health. Still, his face looked as though he had killed someone – which, in a way, he had.

A low hum echoed through the stone walls. It pitched and dropped, rhythmically harmonizing with the somber tone of the jail. The sound was enough to pull Leland from his internal thoughts of warnings and crows. He looked to Jude, who had somehow procured a harmonica despite being in captivity.

“Where did you even get that?” Leland asked, his worries melting.

Jude didn’t answer with words, his mouth busy spitting through the musical channels. His eyes, however, pointed to his naked feet.

“You traded your shoes?”

That question did stop the music. “It was a good deal.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Uh, I can get shoes anywhere. Harmonicas are only sold in music shops, and Liontrunk doesn’t have one. So, uh, yes it was.”

Leland rolled his eyes and saw a guard move beyond the iron poles that separated freedom from confinement. The man flipped through a large ring of keys, eventually unlocking the door and shoving Glenny through.

The rogue looked to his friends, gave a little shrug, and sat down. Then the guard pointed to Leland and said, “Your turn.”

Leland was last in this round of interrogation and he suspected his would be the longest. Even after explaining the situation to The Huntress, after giving her the head of the Witch branded Icewillow, she still looked at them with scorn filled eyes. She had locked them away, letting them stew for an entire night without once attempting to rectify the situation.

Since Alkin Onryo never was forced to join them in the cell, Leland assumed their capture was now for reasons other than Icewillow and the dungeon. It wasn’t until Jude’s interrogation that his theory was proven.

Jude had told Leland the questions mostly revolved around their team and precisely who they were.

Leland, with a guard pushing him through the hallways, scanned the rooms he passed. It was there he saw Alkin, sitting before a spread of breakfast foods like the noble he was. Of course, he would have greater leniency in his treatment. Such was the way of the world. They made eye contact as Leland passed, but Alkin looked away first.

Eventually Leland was led into a small enclosed room. A table and chairs sat before him, two seats were already taken while a third was left empty. The Huntress motioned for him to sit, which he did. The guard left, leaving the two investigators space to work.

The one Leland didn’t recognize, a male without hair and a multitude of scars, started first. The air went stark thick for a mere moment before the man sucked in a deep breath. The pressure in the room equalized but a sparkle appeared in the man’s eyes, yellow with mixtures of red.

The Huntress spoke up, “My associate here is a Legacy of Law. The ability he just used allows him to see lies. Do you understand?”

Her words were cold and calculated, like every syllable was marked and organized with a file deep in her own mind. She also didn’t blink, something that uneased Leland more than he was willing to admit.

“No, it’s not.”

“Huh,” Leland hesitated. “Why is it not good?”

“Due to the simple matter of who you three are. The eldest of you, Jude, has only had his Legacy for half a year. While the youngest of you, you, only a few weeks. How does it make sense that you three were able to take down a murderous Witch that killed one of the Inquisitors’ best?”

Leland cleared his throat. “Teamwo—”

“We both know you’d be lying if you finished your statement.”

A frown came from the man beside her.

Leland saw and spoke up, “I do not believe that to be true.” He turned to the man. “I believe teamwork was what allowed us to defeat the Witch Icewillow.”

The man’s eyes stayed yellow with sparks of red. “He’s telling the truth.”

The Huntress gnawed her bottom lip. “Explain it to me. Play by play, retelling of your encounter.”

And so Leland did. He spoke of coming across the mangled body of Alkin’s guard. The broken into dungeon, the decorated Mana Lions, and eventually the final battle with Icewillow. He left out any parts he deemed unnecessary, like his spells or Jude’s berserker rage. Eventually his story concluded and the Huntress stared on, her eyebrow twitching.

“He spoke all truths,” the Legacy of Law said.

“I’m not a criminal, Lady Huntress,” Leland said. “In fact, I only have the utmost respect for Inquisitors and the work they do.”

She scoffed at that. “Fine, you will be set free. But trust me when I say this, I will be watching you.”

She reached to a sack below her chair, returning with a purple grimoire. Leland greedily sucked the Legacy back into his hand, not feeling complete without it.

“A crow, huh?” The Royal Inquisitor said. “The Lord of Crows is accepting new Legacies? I was under the impression he stopped some centuries ago.”

Leland covered the tattoo with his hand and said nothing. The Huntress scoffed at the silence and she and the man walked out.

Shortly after, Leland followed, finding Jude and Glenny gorging their faces with Alkin’s breakfast. He rolled his eyes at the scene and pulled himself up a chair. No one spoke for a few minutes, a meal other than flame burnt lion was much more important than conversation.

Eventually they finished eating and Jude began playing his newly acquired harmonica, much to the annoyance of the guards trying to work.

“Anyone know where they are keeping our stuff?” Leland asked.

It took an hour, but they were able to locate their stuff. Next stop was a shoe maker for Jude, followed quickly by an item appraiser. They walked through the town with greed filled steps, the thoughts of treasure on their minds.