The silence in the room was heavy, each minute feeling like it wanted to stretch far beyond its welcome. Yolani sat motionless, her eyes fixed on the table. Her hands lay folded in her lap in an attempt to calm the tremors that had started as her anxiety built.
When the door finally opened, she recognized the monk who brought in a small ornate box he carefully placed on the table. He sat down across from her.
“How is Henri? Did you finish healing him?” she blurted out. Maybe questioning her captor wasn’t the best approach, but she couldn’t stall her concern.
Joren looked at her, then nodded. “He’ll live. He likely wouldn’t have survived to morning without assistance, so it was good that you brought it up.”
Relief warred with indignation that they might have actually left him to die in the cell. She swallowed the emotion down her throat. “Thank you for healing him. Can I ask your name?”
“Joren,” the monk answered. He opened the box and revealed what she had suspected it contained: a truth stone set in a velvet cushion.
Recognition dawned on Yolani; she knew the name. She remembered Elania telling her about the monks that had accompanied her when she had made her journey to Neftasu.
Joren was one of her companions back then, and although Elania had little good to say about him, she had said he had been better than Taniel at least.
“You should know that Elania isn’t what the Lightbringer is trying to make her out to be,” she replied, keeping her voice earnest.
He ignored her as he pulled out a small metal stand from the wooden case and set it on the table. The truth stone settled into the wire frame.
“Do you know how to use this?” he asked, gesturing to the device.
Yolani nodded, her throat tight. “Yes,” she replied. Her mind began to race, trying to anticipate what they would ask her. What could she say to convince them to let Henri and her go? She wasn’t sure there even was anything that would placate them.
Joren fixed her with a steady gaze. “You and Elania have done a terrible thing,” he said with a fatal gravity that chilled her blood. “Lightbringer West and his men are here to right it.”
She wanted to correct him. She opened her mouth to challenge the accusation, but the door swung open before she could speak.
The Lightbringer from earlier entered, his chainmail clinking softly as he moved to the table. His eyes narrowed at Joren. “You told her my name?” he asked, obviously unhappy.
Joren ignored the question entirely, his focus remaining on Yolani as if the other man hadn’t spoken at all. “Lightbringer West, the truth stone is ready,” he stated with an air of formality.
West huffed but settled into a chair beside Joren, his attention shifting to Yolani. The air in the room was thick, and Yolani found herself unable to sit still as her foot began to tap.
The Lightbringer needed something from her—information, a confession? She didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was obvious from the way they were going about things.
“Activate the stone,” West ordered.
She reached out and linked her mana to the stone, a small diamond-like light lit up inside the stone. If she expressed any lie, the light would disappear. She would have to be careful with what she said.
“Let us begin,” West said, his voice cold and expectant. “Did you and the demon Elania engage Paladin Anton in combat at his mansion in the Mercenary District?”
Yolani swallowed. “Yes.”
“Why did you attack the Paladin?” he asked.
A frown appeared on her face. “We were searching for the mana shards that Elania had seen in the Black Candle’s dungeon. Since he made it back from there, we suspected he defeated them, and he wouldn’t leave the shards behind.”
West smiled. “So, you went there to rob him?”
Yolani tensed in her seat. “The shards didn’t belong to him in the first place. The city desperately needed them because of the crisis, his hording them was hurting everyone.”
“How noble,” West sneered. “I’m sure it had nothing to do with the recent murder of your uncle and wanting to purchase your way out of your impending indenture for contract failure.”
She bristled at how he worded it. If Relain’s contract had been fair, or her uncle hadn’t been a despicable man…
West waved his hand. “Never mind. Answer me how you found the Paladin.”
“We gathered information on his general location through the City Watch. Later, when we were in the district, we spoke with locals who pointed out his mansion. When we scouted it out, I could detect the concentration of [Power] from the mana shards with a tool, so we knew we had the right place,” Yolani stated simply.
The truth stone’s pulse remained steady and white, the glow illuminating West’s face as he leaned in. “During your attack, did you steal the holy sword?” His words were almost a whisper, as if mentioning the sword was a secret.
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Yolani met his eyes unflinchingly. “Anton was repelled by Elania’s attack while Tessa fled with the shards. Had the Paladin not been so quick to engage us, it’s possible we could have worked together.”
West’s reaction was immediate and violent, his hand striking across her face with enough force to send her head snapping to the side. Pain exploded across her cheek, her ears ringing with the impact.
“Answer the question!” West demanded, his voice rising. “Did you steal the sword?”
Yolani turned back to face him with a glare, her hand coming up to hold her throbbing cheek. “Elania recovered the sword while I was incapacitated from the confrontation,” she said through gritted teeth.
West’s face twisted into a sneer, “So you admit it—you stole the holy sword.”
Her response was immediate, fueled by his accusation. “It wasn’t theft. The sword was left behind in the aftermath of the battle. It wanted to come with us, it wanted away from Anton because the man was an asshole as much as you are. If anyone is to blame for its loss, it is you and your stupid order!”
She tried to scoot back in the chair as he rose and raced to her. Too late, she realized she should have held her tongue.
His fist smashed into her nose and sent her to the floor. A kick to her middle doubled her over, then came a series of screeches and kicks while she held her arms over her face to protect it.
“West, stop!” Joren shouted.
The kicking stopped, and the two men argued. She didn’t pick it all up.
There was a slam of the door before a hand helped her up to a sitting position. A second flare of magic covered her middle—healing magic that soothed the pain away.
“You shouldn’t have provoked him like that,” Joren told her.
She looked up at him with a glare, then bit her lip and looked away. The truth stone was still glowing. She sat back down in her seat while Joren left her alone with her thoughts. After another wait, the two men returned.
West didn’t acknowledge her as he sat down. Instead, he launched right back into the questions. “After you stole the holy sword, what did you do with it?”
She looked to Joren, who just waited for her answer. Yolani sat straighter in her chair, doing her best to not be cowed by the Lightbringer’s aggression.
The truth seemed to matter little to West. He was looking for something to fit his narrative—whatever that was. It seemed like he wanted to paint Elania and her as thieves.
“Elania carried us to safety. Then she used the sword to heal me,” Yolani replied.
West’s hands clenched into fists, his anger barely contained. Any thought of the sword working with them was best avoided. “And then you took the sword to the Magistry?”
“We went to confront Relain and Tessa, to recover the mana shards,” Yolani explained, her voice steady somehow.
“How did you get inside the Magistry?” West demanded.
“We… broke into the building,” Yolani admitted. She remembered the urgency of that night, of their mad rush up the tower, barely staying ahead of events. Just thinking about it reminded her of the drowning feeling she had felt.
“You found them. Tell me about the fight with Relain,” West pressed.
Yolani drew a shaky breath. “Relain used willcasting against us. Tessa was there as well. I was severely injured… The Paladin showed up to fight as well… it was all chaos. Elania got me away and then we escaped to the Engine with the mana shards.”
The memory was a jumbled mess, and she did her best to touch on everything, despite how compressed the retelling was. “Elania healed me again, but I was really out of it. All the Magisters arrived, and Elania ended up overwhelmed by their combined efforts, and then she fell into the Celestial Engine.”
West was silent for a moment, his eyes boring into her. “And what happened to the holy sword?”
“Eziel… fell into the Engine with her. They were both disintegrated and consumed by it,” Yolani said.
“And yet Elania fell in as well, but came back alive,” West stated, his tone laced with skepticism.
“The sword sacrificed itself to save her,” Yolani replied.
West reached out and slapped the truth stone, sending it flying off the table. It hit the wall with a sharp crack and shattered into pieces. He stood up. “It’s clear the Magisters stole the sword and are keeping it in their vaults in the Magistry. I’ll report to the order.”
The man turned and left. Joren stood and began to gather up the broken shards on the floor, leaving her alone to consider what had happened. When he was finished, she looked at him.
“Does the truth not matter? What was the point of the interrogation?” she asked. “Why bother when he’ll make up whatever he wants?”
Joren stared at her with a frown. “I’ll report what was said here, and what the truth stone reported to the elders.”
“The Conclave is supporting…” Yolani’s words faded out as the gears in her head began to work. The riots, the unrest at the new reforms and orders from the Magisters…
“The Lightbringers are behind the riots,” she whispered. “They’re stirring up the people. Are they somehow responsible for the bread shortage, too?”
“The Magistry has more enemies than just the Lightbringers. They’ve turned over a century of tradition in the last few months,” Joren stated. “They’ve embraced the demonology and are addicted to the fruits of temptation the Dungeon provides to fuel their machinations.”
“Article isn’t a machination. It’s a science, with predictable inputs and outputs,” Yolani countered.
Joren frowned at her. “The input is human souls harvested from the dead. It’s evil. You should understand, from what we know, your father was a victim as well.”
Yolani swallowed and looked down.
“Someone will be here soon to take you back to your cell. Don’t anger them because no one might be around to heal you again,” Joren warned.
Yolani nodded weakly. “Thank you for healing Henri and me.”