Epilogue: The Die is Cast, Part 2

THE REASON WHY Sonis never suffered bandit raids was simple: no one knew the place existed to begin with! It was a running joke at the local pub, but humor aside, there was some truth to it.

Sonis was a small, isolated village in the middle of the woods, without much in the way of economic significance. Yet as the skies roiled and twisted overhead, an entire army of knights and inquisitorial agents descended upon the settlement, scouring its buildings, its outskirts, and even the villagers’ minds.

The process was swift and thorough — the inquisitors in particular leaving no stone unturned. To the unfortunate peasants, it was a nightmare come true.

Not only were they subjected to a military crackdown, but they were also tormented by a plethora of ominous lights, incomprehensible noises and distorted figures looming over the horizon.

Then, among the scores of heavily armored warriors, two figures stood out head and shoulders above the rest. They were two demigods of the Empire.

One was Aurelius Argenta, ruler of the southern province.

The other was Isabella of House Iustan, leader of the Imperial Inquisition.

Their towering figures commanded dread and awe in equal measure. Even to the elite knights, the demigods radiated absolute might and authority. They were a pair of living legends… and clearly not in a good mood.

Lord Aurelius, in particular, had his face twisted into a stiff scowl.

Sonis might’ve been a tiny patch of land in the middle of nowhere, but it was his land, and whatever calamity had struck it was now spilling out to the rest of his realm.

The area directly affected by the spatial anomaly was limited to the forest, for now… but even in the regional capital, they had suffered malfunctions when it came to scrying, teleportation and long-range telepathy.

“I’ll make the bastards pay,” said Lord Aurelius, furious that the bread and butter of his logistics network had gone out with a bang.

“There, there. We’ll get them soon enough,” replied Isabella, patting his back.

As the older demigod shrugged off her gesture, a soldier clad in black and gold armor approached them. With a purple cape hanging from his back, they were the colors of the Imperial Inquisition.

“Milady,” said the man, walking to his master. “We’ve found a lead.”

“See? My men are quick,” said Isabella before turning to her subordinate. “So what do you have for us, Morgan? Spill me those delicious beans.”

“Two villagers had their memories tampered with. But judging by the preliminary investigation, I suspect the entire town might’ve have been affected.”

Isabella tilted her head lightly at the latter comment, a curious smile on her lips.

“Ah, ain’t this an interesting one? Open up, Morgan. Let me see.”

The inquisitor accepted the telepathic link with his master, and the memories he had read from the witnesses flowed into her mind — both from the pair of amnesiac men, as well as dozens of others.

At a glance, the memories were so mundane that even Isabella wouldn’t have thought twice about them. But two people of interest quickly came to mind: the village’s lone legionary, and the owner of the local pub.

The soldier had two pieces of information that didn’t match the accounts of the rest. First, a monster attack: apparently, a dungeon had been discovered nearby and the legionary had sent out a request for help… but none of the villagers remembered this.

Second, there was the soldier’s love interest. He fancied a young woman from the village, but for some reason, most of his memories about her were gone.

Her name was Milla, a beautiful pink-haired lass and the only daughter of the local pub owner. But other than that, Isabella couldn’t fish anything more about her.

And then there was the pub owner himself.

Much like his daughter, everyone had forgotten about him… but the man in question had a gaping hole in his memories, sending at least twenty years of his personal history to oblivion.

Unlike the careful redactions done to everyone else, his had been a rushed job.

“My, that was most illustrative. Aurelius and I will take it from here, Morgan, so you may have your lunch now.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Have a nice meal~” she waved him goodbye, before turning to her stone-faced companion. “So. Which one do you want?”

“I’ll get the legionary. He’s my soldier, after all.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll be off to chat with our mysterious peasant~”

----------------------------------------

“OH YIKES! What a mess,” said Isabella as she laid eyes on him.

That was her honest impression of the man before her, weeping bitterly on his knees.

From the emotions flickering across his surface thoughts, she could tell: the pub owner was utterly heartbroken, gripped by the awful sensation of having lost something invaluable, without knowing what it was.

“It’s gone… It’s gone…” the man whispered to himself. “But what is it? Why does it hurt so much?” he kept asking, over and over again.

Even Isabella, the hardened leader of the Imperial Inquisition, felt rather bad for the poor guy. Whoever yanked those memories out of his head, they sure did a number on him.

“Hello, my good sir,” said the demigoddess, kneeling to his level. “You’re not looking well. Do you need help?”

For once, she actually meant it.

“I can’t. You can’t,” stammered the man. “No one... can help me…”

He clutched the sides of his head, clawing desperately into the void — there had to be something. A memory, a name, anything. But all he found was a splitting headache.

Isabella reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

A little charm spell later...

Nothing.

“Man, you’re broken. Hold still; I’ll patch you up.”

She let go of his shoulder and placed both of her hands on his temples.

Then—

“Greater Restoration.”
“Divine Healing.”

“Greater Charm.”

Magic flooded onto the building, a golden light blooming from her hands in gentle waves. Spell after spell rolled out, warm and enveloping, like a thick blanket on a cold night. The man’s trembling slowed, and the anguish in his eyes was lifted.

For the first time since waking up into this nightmare, he was calm.

“Hehe~” the demigoddess grinned. “All better, aren’t ya?”

And somehow, he was.

His memories were still gone, but the pain had scattered like smoke in the wind.

“Milady,” said the man, cautiously meeting eyes with her. “Who are you?”

He was wary of her. Clearly, she was an Imperial demigod… but which one?

“I’m Isabella of House Iustan,” replied the dragonkin with a warm smile.

His heart stopped, and that wasn’t hyperbole. His memories were fractured, but her name — her name hadn’t left him, nor had the terrifying stories tied to it.

“Whoa there!” Isabella laughed as she pulsed a bit of magic into his chest, bringing his heart back to life.

“That’s rude! I know I’ve got a bit of a reputation, but don’t go dying on me!”

“I— I’m so sorry,” he stammered, dropping his gaze as the dragonkin playfully patted him on the back.

“You’re a funny one,” she said, smiling as the old hunter shied away from her.

Truth be told, she didn’t fit the mental image he had of her at all.

Stories about her and the Inquisition were often used to frighten children… and even adults, at that. But now that he met her in person, Isabella turned out to be surprisingly kind and gentle.

Could it be the rumors were wrong about her after all?

As the old hunter asked himself the question...

“With a bit of polish, he’ll make for a fine thrall,” Isabella quietly mused.

A kind gesture in their deepest moment of despair, and their heart is yours.

It was simplicity itself.

Isabella had no need for shackles or coercion — with only the willing leash of trust, the old hunter would happily wag his tail for her.

“So, my good sir… I believe your name is Jund. Is that correct?”

The man managed a weak nod. At least he still remembered his name.

“I have some questions for you,” her tone became more formal.

Jund hesitated. He wanted to help, but...

“I’m not sure I can answer,” he admitted. “Not because I don’t want to — by the Lady, I do. But my memories… they’re gone. I can’t even begin to count them.”

How many years had he lost? He remembered his youth, his early adulthood, even the love of his life. But then, a chasm. The rest of his past seemed to have fallen into it, so deep that he couldn’t see the bottom.

“That’s okay. My adjutant examined you earlier, so I know what state you’re in. But even then, would you mind if I asked you a few questions? They might unclog your memory, if we’re so lucky.”

“Very well. I’ll do what I can,” replied the old hunter, quite unsure of himself.

He couldn’t make any promises to her, but at least he was willing to try.

“Does the name Milla mean anything to you?”

Pain.

It hit like a lance through his soul. His heart seized so violently that Isabella had to intervene with magic again to keep him stable.

Just how deeply had the perpetrators shattered him?

With the help of her calming spell, Jund’s breathing slowed down. But his forehead was soaked in cold sweat, and a sharp pain flared down his left arm and up into his jaw.

“Who… is that?” he whispered, his eyes pleading with desperation.

It was clear to him: he did know her.

“I believe she’s your daughter,” replied Isabella, softly.

Jund lowered his gaze and broke down.

Tears fell freely down his cheeks. He couldn’t remember her at all, but the emotion —the raw, desperate yearning to see her again — was unbearable.

“What happened?” His voice was ragged with sorrow. “Who did this to me? To us?” he wondered out loud, asking the heavens for answers.

His memories were gone, but surely he hadn’t done anything that horrible. What crime could possibly warrant such a punishment?

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Isabella replied. “Someone tampered with the entire village. You were the most severely affected, and well…”

She paused. Jund had stayed indoors since waking up, so he didn’t know about the calamity around Sonis.

“We have to vacate the settlement,” she said at last. “You’ll be given temporary housing, and a cleric to tend to you.”

Jund blinked, stunned.

“What!?” he cried, staggering back. “Why? What did we do to deserve this?”

“You didn’t do anything. But something dreadful was done to all the villagers, and to the forest outside.”

Jund pushed to his feet and stumbled toward the door.

He opened it, and what he saw beyond stole the breath from his lungs.

His village, his homeland. All of it was was… wrong.

The clear sky he had known was gone, swallowed by a swirling mass of twisted lights. Distorted, unnatural figures danced above the treeline — shapes that shouldn’t exist in this world, accompanied by strange, guttural noises.

Jund dropped to his knees.

This had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be real.

“Whoever erased your memories, they’re likely responsible for that, too,” said Isabella, gently kneeling next to him. “That’s why I need your help. I need you to remember, what happened to Milla? Where is she now?”

Jund’s heart ached again as he broke down in tears.

“My daughter. Oh my sweet, sweet daughter…”

So the erasure hadn’t been perfect. Just as she had hoped.

“We’re looking for her,” Isabella said, careful not to show her hand. “We don’t know if she played a role in this, but given the circumstances, I believe she’s a victim.”

And thus, she had to be rescued.

Jund understood this all too well.

“Take me with you!” he begged, clinging to Isabella’s side. “I’ll do anything! I’m a hunter — I can track! Let me help you… find my girl...” he trailed off, his voice breaking.

The demigoddess smiled to herself, ever so faintly.

Her brand-new acolyte had been successfully roped.

“It won’t be easy. We’re up against an extraordinary foe, and you’re only a civilian. Do you really believe you’re up to the task?”

Jund’s grip on her armor tightened.

“I am! By the Goddess, I am! I won’t stop at anything!”

Good.

His resolve—

It was good.

Good enough to be knighted for.

And then, he would be trained. Disciplined into a deadly, loyal bloodhound.

“Then so it shall be, Jund,” said the demigoddess, her voice thick with the proverbial honey of charm. “In the name of the Imperial Family of House Iustan, I bid you a warm welcome to the Inquisition.”

In this forgotten backwater, Isabella had found herself a nice little pup to raise.

Raw, wounded, eager to serve.

And she would make some excellent use of him.