People lie to themselves for the sake of their broken hearts; hence, religion comes to be. We lie to ourselves, and we call it a story. We imagine ourselves to be champions and heroes. We reduce our enemies and challenges down to caricatures and featureless shadows.

And we do it all because we are such fragile, evanescent little things.

Because to embrace the truth is to maul your mind. It is to accept that you don't matter. That you are but an animal, even touched by the System and granted magic.

It is to accept that your story holds no weight beyond your belief and your strength to force its truth, and in the end, the songs you sing will be regarded as little more than incoherent noise, and your faith, less than the braying of a dying animal.

Nothing is true. Nothing is sacred. Not unless you manage to impose your will above the System. But you can't. No one tries.

There is only me.

-Udraal Thann

219 (I)

Heartbreak

A war took shape behind Magnolia's eyes. Her facial muscles tensed, and her breath ceased to flow. Her right hand instinctively went for one of her axes, but she pulled away when she realized what she was doing. Magnolia was a martial Pathbearer to the bone. Violence was the first and easiest solution she could think of. But violence wouldn't save her from the Inquisition, nor was it a tool that could prevail against a superior killer.

Despite how it discomforted her, she knew the harsh facts lay before her. If she raised her blade, she would find herself dead at Adam's hand. But all too often, minds developed wounds when rational understanding came to clash against one's desired truth. It might be easier for her to die swinging her axe at Adam. It might give her some measure of peace—a final, acceptable end.

Seconds passed. Caradah looked upon Magnolia with increasing worry, and Adam prepared himself for any kind of reaction, be it emotional or volatile.

And then, the Master-Tier Shifter's face hardened into a mask of anger. "No," she hissed with the hint of a rageful growl. "No, it was the fault of that bastard bloodless boy. It was the fault of Marcus Unblood that we suffered. It was not my doing."

"She's bullshitting us," Shiv said. "Ask her to tell you what happened in detail."

"How do you know?" Adam replied rapidly.

"That's not the look of someone coming to terms. That's the look of someone giving in to their anger."

"Anger? You sure?"

"I also make that face sometimes."

Adam let out a breath of dismay. "Very well. Tell me everything that happened during the expedition."

Caradah looked faint, like she was on the edge of tears.

Magnolia swallowed. "I have already reported this to your Inquisition, Master Interrogator."

"Yes, but they are not me," Adam replied. He lowered his voice toward the end. "And I have many things I still wish to know. My colleagues were in charge of recounting what happened during the expedition, and now, it seems the events there involve Marcus Unblood substantially. Even if not directly useful, it will give me insight into my subject of interrogation. So, if you would please give your accounting of events.

For a few beats, Magnolia stared ahead. Her eyes were blank, and it was as if Adam wasn't there at all. And then, all of a sudden, she began to speak. She told him about the day of the expedition. How far it was from Old Brunswick to the capital. How perilous the mountains were in the coming summer season.

Living on the fringes of the Republic exposed one to a great many dangers. The swell of monsters would wake with the coming summer. And the change of the ecology also brought with it disasters. Avalanches, monstrosities, new diseases being released into the air. Then there were the primal gates that sometimes formed, and the dimensionals that spawned from them, seeking violence.

But most of all, there were the Jotun and pale lurkers, Frost Giants seeking to prove themselves to the court of the Shattered Moon, raiding the Republic's territory and slaying its people. When they brought corpses back, they earned prestige and mithril, depending on how many they slew, and how high their victims' Tiers were.

This was also the reason the expedition was necessary. It seemed the Yellowstone Republic had a great many advantages over their bestial northern neighbors in terms of resources and population, as well as its number of High-Tier Pathbearers. However, the Republic was also stretched wide, and the Jotun were exceptional at intercepting jumps. Teleportation could only begin once they reached the threshold of Stag's Death, south of Old Brunswick.

It was a fortress outpost meant to monitor the northern border, and a place so well guarded that any jump interception would be intercepted itself and swiftly turned into a bloody slaughter. Yet there was quite a distance between the Shifters' mountain holds and Stag's Death: a whole mountain range needed to be crossed before they reached the outskirts of the Republic's core.

At this point, Shiv had his own inquiry. "Why do people even live out there?" he asked. "Just make them move closer to Stag's Death. The way I see it, it's not that hard to travel around when you're a Master. Location shouldn't be that much of an issue."

"Because it's been their home for generations," Adam replied.

"People change when you hold a torch," Shiv said, still lost.

The young lord understood why his friend thought that way. Shiv had never had anything. With how ostracized he felt at Blackedge, "home" was little less than a nebulous concept, filled with more noise than meaning. Comparatively, Adam's heart was still filled with sourness. Sourness for all who suffered during the destruction and death his town faced during the attack; the torment his father endured, and the brutality of the vicar.

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Adam understood what it meant to fear losing a home—to refuse to lose a home. "They've lived there for centuries, Shiv. Longer, even. They tell their children stories about why the place belongs to them, how they've protected it from any threat. The stories make them part of the place as well. And ultimately, they refuse to leave because they were there before the Yellowstone Republic was even a thing, as well as the patron deities and spirit animals they adhere to. To flee is sacrilege."

The Gate Lord hesitated for a moment, and he tried to come up with a better analogy. "It's like this. If someone tried to force you out of the Swan-Eating Toad, how would you respond?"

And the Deathless finally understood. "Oh. Yeah, no. Someone's gonna die, and it isn't me."

Adam huffed. "There we go."

Magnolia carried on now. She spoke of how their expedition was formed early in the morning, before even sunrise. It was important to move at night because should one cast a silhouette, even in the far horizon, someone might get a shot at them. It was not uncommon for people to go missing at high altitudes and be found days later with a frost giant's javelin buried inside their torso.

The expedition started two hundred strong. The students bound for Phoenix Academy were only a small portion of the main contingent. The rest were traders or travelers making their way from mountain holds to Stag's Death and seeking a security escort to slip free from the harshness of the Republic's periphery and return to its core. Magnolia and twelve other Shifters were tasked as shepherds for the expedition.

Things would have gone fine if the weather had stayed placid like the Aeromancers had claimed. If the scouts had been right about the conditions of the land and the potential positions of monsters and Jotun, it would have turned out fine. If so many things had unfolded in accordance with Magnolia's expectations.

For the most part, they did.

However, there was one variable that seemed to compromise everything. One thing that she couldn't send away: the infamous Marcus Unblood.

"I had to move right across from the mongrel as well. I don't know why, but the Academy's representative favored him, selected him as a Wild Card."

"You don't know why?" Adam scoffed. "The Wild Card Program is not granted on a whim. Take this seriously."

Magnolia snarled, but decided to elaborate. "Yes, the Curse-blooded boy was caught in an avalanche. Yes, there was a girl along with him, and perhaps his meager skills kept her alive. But it didn't matter, we would have saved them before either expired. Well, at least the girl, her Physicality was sufficient. It was unnecessary."

"Thank you," Adam cut her off, unwilling to waste any more time on her ranting. "So, he earned his place through a heroic action. He was selected for a feat of emergency surgery. I understand now."

Magnolia looked as if she had swallowed a toad, and she seemed desperate to recontextualize Marcus' merits in some fashion.

Adam sighed. "Right, I see. And so, Marcus Unblood was a participant in the expedition. What did he do to make things go wrong?" He gestured for her to go on.

Magnolia clenched her teeth and spent a moment centering herself before she continued. "Caradah is not the only girl of our hold to be sullied by the bastard's seed," she hissed. The Master-Tier Shifter's glare at the girl was a knowing one, and there was no warmth there. Not like how her brothers looked upon her.

Caradah flinched away from Magnolia as a crushing pressure radiated out from the latter. Magnolia was trying to keep the girl silent. Adam forced himself to remain calm. He was usually understanding, even if he had something of a temper. But the scene unfolding provoked him. The gall for one strong to be blaming the weak, for one old to condemn the young. Magnolia was distraught, but that didn't give her the right to forsake all decency. She was a Pathbearer—there were standards.

"Don't do that again," Adam said coolly.

Magnolia blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The Intimidation," the Gate Lord grunted. "I know what you're doing. My sympathy is not infinite. Your pain does not give you leave to lash out. You flail like a wounded child. We are Pathbearers. And our responsibility is greater because of it."

Caradah looked upon him with surprise. And Magnolia was really at a loss for words. "I..." She seemed unsure if she wished to sigh in outrage or apology.

"Save it," Adam said. "I'm not trying to chide you like a master would an apprentice. I'm just reminding you that you sit in an inquisitor's presence. I will not abide by rank displays of manipulation. Now go on."

Magnolia told him how the first day of the expedition had gone on without too many issues. They'd moved more slowly than expected due to encountering a Hive of Skindrinker Termites along the way. After the hive was put to the flames and its warriors were butchered, they pressed down the mountain and had to make camp for the day as the sun rose.

It was during this time that a certain event followed. It appeared that Magnolia's family, Opal and Caradah, didn't know about each other's relationship to Marcus before. When they confronted him, his reluctance to talk with either of them on the journey was uncovered in a most disquieting scene that came with a lot of shouting, crying, and histrionics.

Caradah's brothers attempted to pitch Marcus off the side of the mountain. Opal stopped them, and then Opal returned, was confronted by her mother, and they dueled entirely in public. By this point, Magnolia was taking breaks every few seconds, pausing every few sentences. Her eyes were darting about, and it seemed she was on the edge of something, but she held herself back, even though the lump in her throat got more and more obvious.

"Last time we talked, I said I should have brought her out on more hunts," Magnolia muttered with a near-smile. "I should have had my apprentices watch her, or moved her to another mountain hold. I should have killed the bastard when I caught them together the first time… and that was my fault. That was my true fault. But everything that followed…"

Magnolia bristled with anger, and her silence grew dark and bitter.

A feeling of awkward discomfort rose up inside Shiv, and it merged with the anxiety pressing down on Adam. The Gate Lord could handle a great many things. Challenges, projects, reports, combat—all fine! But personal drama made him cringe. Violently. He nearly succumbed to overwhelming second-hand embarrassment, and he warred against his urge to stick his fingers in his ears and loudly hum to himself, pretending he couldn't hear anything.

Adam had done that more than a few times during his days at the academy. But right now, there was no avoiding this. He was getting a full dose of drama, and he hated it.

"I said—I said some things to my daughter. Some things I cannot take back," Magnolia admitted, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "And I did something unbecoming. I shamed her in front of too many eyes. I pushed her, and once she couldn't take any more, she pushed back, admitted that she was carrying his child." Magnolia then looked down at her hands, and she clenched them into fists. "I struck my daughter, and she ran after that. She ran. I called her Bloodless in the presence of the whole expedition. I claimed she was a bastard now too. But it was just a cry of anger. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that…"

She repeated these words several more times. And then she hid her face from Adam and Caradah. But when she looked up again, her gaze was maddened with pain. "I ignored her for hours. But Marcus went after her. He went after her first. I waited with the expedition. But then… but then I grew worried after hours. Then my anger died, and my shame grew. I told the expedition to hold in place and then I…"

And the rest of the story came flooding out of her. "I pursued her. That bloodless bastard Marcus did as well. Stupid fool was blind. He didn't know where he was going and found himself lost. But I did. Dawn's light was high, and soon it would have been morning. I knew my daughter's scent. I was not sure how she could keep me from finding her. But within minutes, I smelled something wrong. I smelt the taste of blood on the wind. And I knew it. I knew it. When there is enough blood, it drowns out all other tastes as well."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "She'd been caught in a Jotun trap. By the time I reached her, her leg had nearly been severed clean. It was a trap meant for dire bears. And I know how the Jotun fight. I know their foul ways. They smear their traps in feces. They pour diseases and poisons upon the metal, tainting wounds beyond mere injuries of flesh."

The Shifter paused, and she looked at Adam. There was a certain sense of clarity in her eyes. "Do you have a child, interrogator?"

Adam opened and closed his mouth several times, and then he shook his head.

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