27 - Seven Spokes Pt. 2 [Cherno]

“I almost expected to be sent to the Zaveshian temple,” she remarked, trying to probe for info.

“I would have done just that, if your condition was severe enough to merit amputation. You would then be given the choice of either buying a new arm on the spot or waiting  for a while until the church found or made you a free replacement,” the priest said, raising his frankenstein-esq arm and wiggling its fingers.

“A while?”

“A month or two for an arm, they are not exactly rare. Alright, nearly done here…”

Upon finishing the calligraphy, he once more uttered a prayer over the wrappings he had inscribed. Brilliant rays of gold light erupted past him, projecting circular sigils on the ceiling. The next moment, he brought wrappings with those same sigils to her and bound them around her left arm. Krahe had been worried that it might impede her arm’s ability to passively dissipate anathema, but she felt no such change.

The priest thereafter escorted her back outside, not-so-subtly nodding towards the request board. She noticed an absence there, and so decided to repay her debt right then and there, turning to the priest again.

“I… Believe I forgot something in your sanctum,” she said.

Once they were back in there and the door was shut, Krahe turned her eyes to the priest. He knew that she hadn’t forgotten anything, of course, and awaited what she had to say with a curious gaze.

“I fancy myself an investigator of sorts; just a low-ranking contractor with a knack for digging up filth I really ought not to. So, humor me for a moment, as an investigator: What would be the ramifications of a banisher being kidnapped by the Hashem Family? Forgive me for not sharing specifics, I am not certain of the accuracy of my information.”

“Ah… Well, it depends. Since normal Banishers are functionally flesh machines, maintainers of the Banishment Wheel,” he said, gesturing to the one-eyed head in a jar, “the kidnapping of one would be treated as a sacrilegious property crime, a severe one at that. A Pilgrim Banisher, on the other hand, sacred children of Igaria and Zavesh that they are… That would merit calling in a Graft Apostle. My superiors would spare no expense to ensure that Pilgrim’s safe return, even if it meant the destruction of the district.”

Krahe couldn’t find an iota of surprise within herself at those words. To hear that the church was heavy-handed in its handling of such matters was, at least, a preferable answer to one that might insinuate deep-rooted corruption. More importantly, however, she’d just gotten an important piece of knowledge; the distinction between “normal” and “Pilgrim” Banishers.

“As I thought. I will be sure to get back to you if I manage to find any evidence in favor or to the contrary of my suspicions,” she lied. “What would your name happen to be, good man?”

“Razem. What of yours?”

“Krahe,” she said, making her way out of his office for good this time. Not even for a second had she considered involving the authorities; she didn’t trust such authoritative bodies as far as she could throw them. At best, they were overly heavy-handed like the priest’s words had implied the Seven Spokes to be. More commonly, they were just toothless and complacent. At worst, they were actively complicit in the evildoing of those Krahe went after, the powerful and corrupt.

The path by which she continued her investigation from here had three branches.

The first: She could just return to the inn and get some rest. She hadn’t been able to rest properly since her own death, and every fibre of her body wanted her to choose this path. The world had that airy haze about it emblematic of sleep deprivation, kept at bay only by the effects of arrha.

The second: Straight to the establishment Garvesh had laid out as a potential clue. The sun was starting to set, so she wagered places of the not-quite-upright sort would soon awaken. It was strange that the pawnbroker hadn’t given her the establishment’s name, just its location. Perhaps he had just forgotten, or perhaps it was a down-low type of place that didn’t have an official name.

The third: Further intel-gathering; a path that could easily connect to the other two. She couldn’t get by on talking around things and pretending to know; not for long, anyway. As such, not only did she need more intel relevant to her investigation, but also completely basic information as to the world she found herself in.

She decided to try and find a library. Simply asking another of the priests was enough; she learned that there was a public library a few streets down. She also learned that the Zaveshian temple would lend out more specific texts pertaining to anatomy, grafting, and so on; however, they would only lend to trusted individuals, or those referred by a trusted individual. That is to say, not Krahe. So, the public library it was.

There was an entry fee for those without a membership, which she paid. Even this seemingly mundane, even boring, place was a feast for her senses. The smell of real books, rows and rows of them stacked up on real wood shelves, meticulously categorized and ordered.

Even now, she took care not to expose herself, taking books that weren’t obvious sources of the intel she needed alongside her actual targets. Tomes on maintenance of machinery and basic guides to the law as it related to small-scale merchants were accompanied by books such as “Historical Thaumstone Extraction Techniques”, “Souldreg Extraction and Refinement 101”, as well as tomes on history and geography. Lacking a membership, she couldn’t take them out of the library, so she found an out-of-the-way corner and took to reading. She shamelessly skimmed over the actual history of this world, only taking note of the continent she was on and the general world map. It was not out of disinterest that she did this, but simple priority management. The major players of this continent seemed to be the Samstani Sultanate and Calbian Restoration Confederacy in the north-east, with the continental map also noting a Khovian Khaganate far to the west off the map’s edge.