Unfinished Rites: Part 1

Through the Mayor, they had learned about the origin of the Witch. Twenty years ago, a woman named Alyssa resided near the town as their herbalist. She was caring and got along with the residents in Galebrook. The mayor became a personal friend of hers, and she found her to be a charming young woman.

Then one day, a sickness spread and the locals found out that Alyssa was really a witch who was poisoning them, and using the spirits of the dead to empower her dark arts. The Mayor at first prevented the crowd from burning her at the stake, but he was presented with hard evidence that he couldn’t refute. However instead of burning her, he convinced them to just hang her.

It was apparent that after the tree awakened, the witch was buried there.

At that moment Victor and Enderan were on their way to speak with the man responsible for burying her.

“Do you think it’s possible to kill it?”

“Possibly. We’ll have to see it first. Otherwise we can just keep tackling the confession angle. The problem is that the answer the tree seeks might not even be known to the mayor.”

“So it might be just a personal slight against the Mayor?”

“Possibly. Another issue we may be facing is that this note might not even be connected to the witch.” Victor pondered. “That tree shouldn’t be able to write with a pen and paper, so it may be possible that it has help from within the village. Otherwise the note may have come from someone else who has a different grievance with the Mayor which only muddies up things. Either way, our first lead is to find the writer of this note.”

“Should we interrogate all the residents?”

“Eventually, but right now it’s important to focus on one task at a time.”

They arrived at the local church of the redeemers.

The doors were open, and when they stepped inside, it was apparent the church was empty.

There was a podium and a dais, and in the center of the wall was a wooden effigy of an angel whose wings couldn’t work, reaching up towards a four pointed star. The god’s star was the holy symbol of the redeemers, and the man below was Israphel, the crippled angel.

Israphel was an angel who had his wings crippled and thrown out heaven, punished by god for being curious and colluding with demons. To redeem himself, he promised to help humanity and banish the demons and evil beings from the world. Through serving Israphel, people help redeem him and themselves in the eyes of god, earning your way into heaven. A faith built on second chances

The only difference between most religious martyrs in Cauldera is that Israphel is alive and resides in the Stairway Tower in Evernia’s capital.

They had seen a couple of churches of the redeemer on their journey, and in many slayer guilds, a god’s star was hung on the wall. It was the most common religion practiced by slayers, especially because they worked alongside banishers.

Finding the church empty, Victor and Enderan stepped back outside and began to circle the building.

They found a cobblestone walkway then heard voices. There was a small garden. It consisted of flowers and there they saw a familiar white bow. Poppy was watering the flowers and a priest wearing a black clerical shirt with a white collar tab, was leaning against the wall talking with her.

Upon seeing them, they stopped talking.

“May I help you?” The priest stepped forward. His black hair was overgrown and swept over his right eye. He had slight eye bags, and watery eyes, and his ears were slightly pointed. A half elf.

“Kegan, these are the slayers I was talking about.” She bobbed her head. “Greetings Mr. Troika.”

“It’s been a while, Poppy.” He jested which earned him a giggle.

“I’m Kegan Lefalmā.” His voice was monotone, yet Victor had heard more life in it just before they approached.

“I’m Victor Troika, and my apprentice, Caleb Cole.” He took Kegan’s hand, and Victor noted the surprising strength in his grip, the forearm well-muscled beneath the sleeve.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Father Kegan.”

“It’s actually just brother.” He bowed. “And you can just call me Kegan.”

“Alright, Kegan.”

Victor couldn’t quite place him. For a priest, he was an oddity.

After shaking his hand, Victor opened his journal and began writing something.

Put off by his writing, Kegan spoke. “I hope you guys aren’t planning to slay the tree. It’s been a futile effort for the last slayers who attempted it.”

“I’m actually hoping to avoid that. Which is why I’m trying to find out all I can.”

“Victor is an expert on curses.” Enderan said.

Poppy glanced at Kegan while his gaze was fixed on Victor.

He had looked up from his writing to catch the exchange.

“Anyways, I was told by the mayor that you were the one responsible for putting Alyssa’ soul to rest.”

“That’s right.” He frowned. Not at Victor but at recalling a disturbing memory. “I was out of town when they hung her, and when I returned she was brought down for me to perform the death rites.”

“And it’s apparent that you didn’t,” Victor said.

Victor’s accusation hung in the air. Performing the rites was the one thing that kept the dead from becoming vengeful spirits. It was a priest’s most basic duty.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Yet you lied to the mayor? I don’t really find lying that bad, but you’re a priest. And it was your job to make sure the spirit was put to rest.”

“She obviously didn’t. So who was I to send her away?”

“To stop people from being cursed!” Enderan’s voice was tight. “Innocent people are dying because you didn’t do your job! How can you serve Israphel and let a witch’s spirit fester here?!”

Poppy seemed ready to tear Enderan a new one, but Kegan put a hand out before her.

“Then, would it please you to hear that I don’t believe in Israphel?” Kegan gave him a polite smile.

This took them aback. “Then how are you a priest?!”

“I wasn’t given much of a choice. But, you’re here for the witch. Not me.”

Victor looked at the God’s star hanging from his neck, before continuing. “Apologies. Caleb has some family affected by a witch’s curse, so it’s a bit of a sensitive subject. I also have a younger sister who was cursed by Sherry Shyne herself.”

Victor had said this like it was a fun fact. Kegan and Poppy went quiet, and after a moment both offered their condolences.

“I see.” He sighed. “I am just used to the vitriol thrown towards witches by people who were never affected by an evil witch in their life.”

Victor paused for a second. “So Alyssa wasn’t a witch?”

Kegan clenched his fist. “She was a witch.”