Chapter 4: Four
The two warriors walked into the Lizard's Eye with the bearing of people not to be trifled with.
The girl with them looked…less menacing.
What was a Songstress doing traveling with two mercenaries, he wondered.
Ultimately it wasn't really his problem…but it certainly did inspire curiosity…well more curiosity than he'd had in anything in a while.
Drink will do that to you.
Dualist Wine.
Exile Spirits.
Lizardfolk Water.
The list of drinks available to a man with too much time and too many regrets truly went on longer than a morning sermon, and Azael had had far too much of all of the above.
The barkeep put another glass in front of him and said, "You workin tonight Az?"
"Not yet…but I might be looking into something soon," he answered, his voice cracking and hoarse from a night of…less than respectable activity.
"'Girl walks into a bar' is a little too cliche, even for you Azael," the portly man said, laughing as he watched his regular study the trio who'd just walked in.
"You know em?"
Geng, the barkeep, nodded and said, "The two fighters, yeah. They've been doin work for the elders for a few months now."
"That thing with the bandits," Azael asked, now very interested.
Geng nodded and started cleaning a glass, saying, "That's them. Don't drink much, but they stop fights sometimes when they're here."
Azael raised an eyebrow and said, "I don't envy them. Mercenaries?"
"Yup."
"The Church doesn't usually work with their kind…know anything about the girl," he asked as he lifted the glass.
"Meh, some songstress from a town over. Think I saw her when I had to head out that way to get some of the produce for an event the elders were throwing…but you know me, one pretty face is pretty much the same as any other," Geng said, chuckling ruefully.
The long scar over his eye and generally unattractive looks had long since precluded him from the interest of any girl who wasn't charging, and he made little effort to hide his bitterness at this.
"The Choir was in town the other day," Azael said, downing the glass and tapping the counter for another.
"That's pretty uncommon…I thought a pilgrimage was done alone," Geng said, raising an eyebrow.
"They are."
From the table where the trio had sat, Azael heard the girl shouting something about decency and for a moment he was back at his pulpit.
Righteous fury and flame surrounded him as he denounced the heathens who walked in the dark ways along the path.
The Choir practically howled behind him, their belief and their passion carrying his words to holy heights that they'd have never reached alone.
"THE PATH IS BOTH BLINDINGLY BRIGHT AND INKY DARK, AND IT IS ONLY WITH BELIEF AND FAITH THAT YOU CAN TRAVEL SAFELY THROUGH THE SHADOW TO REACH THE LIGHT BEYOND," he shouted unto his travelers.
The travelers, followers of the Church, had stood and cried, cheering for the light along the path.
A single traveler made eye contact with him and he knew she would be his Songstress, so beatific was her voice, even among the hundreds of others surrounding her.
Indeed…her voice did ring out with his holy fervor…and when another among his flock had made contact with the church, he discovered that she sang to see him fall into dark.
It had worked.
The Pathfinder, the leader of Dualism, had personally come to his Church to denounce Azael as a heretic, as a defiler of truth and breaker of vows.
They had also proclaimed his entire congregation as lost, striking their names from the Holy Ledger of the faith, condemning them to travel in the dark for eternity for their failure to report him…or to conspire against a Father.
The two who had seduced and betrayed him were bound by an entire flight of Knights and taken to a Temple deep in the desert, where holy retribution was sought, and they burned for their avarice and wickedness.
He didn't escape punishment either.
Though he'd been led by his lust and naivety, they branded his hands with the mark of Seris and left him to die in the desert, that small mercy afforded him simply because he'd been foolish enough to be tricked.
Sighing gently, Azael soothed the memory of his hands burning on the cool glass of ale that Geng had set in front of him.
"You know, when I found you on the edge of the forest, you were barely coherent," Geng said quietly.
Azael nodded and shuddered.
He didn't need to be reminded of those dark days.
"You sure you want to go poking around a Songstress," Geng asked bluntly.
"If the Church is sending a Songstress with mercenaries, something serious is happening," Azael started, drinking from his glass before he continued, "I've been hearing about rituals being done all over the country, and I need to know what's going on."
"Why don't you send that fairy of yours to follow them, brother," Geng whispered, leaning in as he did.
"They'd notice Vanessa immediately," Azael said, his voice wavering a touch.
No matter what the payoff might be, he would never endanger one of his frighteningly few friends just to indulge his curiosity.
Geng shrugged and said, "Just be careful my friend…please?"
Azael nodded and continued to drink while he watched and waited for the trio to finish their business in the bar and leave.
As they left, he mumbled some of the few magic words he'd bothered to learn, and disappeared from view, leaving only the payment for his tab and his empty seat at the bar.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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