Outside the room, Tristessa found herself in the empty hallway of the grand inn. It was her third day living at the traditional Bolton & Barker Inn, in the heart of Entrana. Room number seven, second floor, suspiciously far from the room Astoria had been living in for an entire year.

At first glance, it seemed like a place frozen in time, much like the House of Royal Hunters. The owners hadn't done much remodeling the structure with metal profiles or reinforcing the walls with bricks, wanting to preserve that architectural spirit of the Age of Kings. Which was perhaps one of the few things worth preserving, after its tragic end by the hands of the Shadow Queen.

Tristessa descended the creaking wooden stairs that led to the main hall. A spacious place with a large hearth at the center, like a Viking lord house on ancient Earth. The fire was high, the logs were burning nicely, legiana meat was getting cooked, and the coldest guests sat nearby, in silence, grateful for the warmth as the smoke rose towards the chimney.

The rest of the patrons were spread out on the roughly hewn tables throughout the place, in small quantities since it was the Nekromians' day of rest of the week. Still, the modest number of merchants, soldiers, and a troubadour doing a performance was enough to create a comfy and somewhat animated post-Evil Dream atmosphere, typical of the role-playing video games Tristessa vaguely remembered.

On the east side, wanting to be as far away as possible from the few customers and the morning shift manager—focused on grilling the meat for lunch—sat Astoria, Auron, and Severus.

The three were drinking from brass tankards filled with ale—the third in Astoria's case. From the potent scent wafting from them, it was an over-fermented brew flavored with minty herbs typical of End-World.

"Drinking at this hour? It certainly is a day off…"

Having already seen Astoria dressed enough to make her heart race, seeing the two men dressed the same as always, only in fresh, clean clothes, was a bit disappointing for Tristessa.

"At least Auron could change the style of his scarf... Wait a minute."

With each step she took towards them, Tristessa realized that there was a fourth person accompanying them. A little girl, almost hidden among the silhouettes surrounding her, wearing a heavy gray tunic that was several sizes too big for her. And she was also wearing Auron's hat, so big for her small head that it was about to fall off, barely held in place by her thick brown hair.

"What the fuck?!"

"Ah, you finally decide to join us, lady. How's your insomnia?" Auron raised his hand in greeting upon seeing her arrive, while Severus grimaced and gave her a fleeting glance that conveyed disgust. "Wait, before you tell us you didn't sleep at all, I hope you know you've spoiled your aracross rotten. Not even the caretakers know what to do; that hairy brat won't let them…"

"No, no, you wait a moment, Auron! I'd love to go visit Vergil in the stables, but first…" Tristessa pointed an accusing finger at this unexpected, and from her point of view, unwanted guest. "Tell me what the hell is that child doing here!"

The child in question had a steaming meat pie in front of her and was sipping from a glass of cool water. She placed it near the edge of the table before giving Tristessa a sour look.

"…she smells like an unwiped ass."

A comment that caught everyone off guard. Auron stared at the girl of perhaps eight or nine years old, his eyes wide, while Astoria simply continued to sip from her tankard, her lips curled into a smile she couldn't suppress, causing a few lines of ale to trickle down the sides.

"Little miss, saying that isn't right… Would you stop encouraging her, Severus?!"

The blood elf had decided to take a drink at that moment and choked, mixing coughs and laughter that would have made Tristessa smile if she weren't boiling with anger and embarrassment.

"By Kantrus, this kid is going to kill me!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily, his true personality brought to light. He had slammed the tankard down on the table with such force that the girl's glass teetered and fell off the edge. "Attractor."

Using his ever-trusty cane, now fitted with a new power crystal, Severus conjured a gravity glyph that, when activated, suspended the glass and its contents in midair. Safe from splashing and potentially harming the little girl, who was clapping with unrevealed enthusiasm.

"Again, please," she asked, watching Auron pick up the glass and gather the chaos-bound floating water inside it.

"No, no. That was dangerous. If the glass had fallen on you and Severus wasn't careful, you could have hurt yourself," he said, throwing daggers at the elf before turning back to Tristessa. "Sit down, lady. Do you know this child? She's lost; we're keeping her company."

"No, I don't."

The girl sat next to Severus, who finished coughing and then reclaimed his cold demeanor, as if he didn't want her to look at him or pay attention to him. Tristessa felt hurt, but the annoyance she was feeling at that moment at having that girl in her presence again was even stronger.

Cyela, an apprentice in the city's Sanctuary of Mystic Tattooists, under the tutelage of Master Caius Gaoceiros.

"Why don't you hand her over to the soldiers on patrol?"

"I'll take her to the nearest barracks, a few blocks from here...after I finish this beer. Besides, it's my day off, the five soul jewels it cost me don't grow on trees most of the time," Astoria indicated, her cheeks flushed slightly from the alcohol, before taking another drink.

"That means you spent fifteen SJs, ma'am," Cyela added.

"That's right, little genius…"

"Forgive me. I mistook you for another girl who looked like you." Tristessa decided to jump into the conversation, so as not to distract Astoria and so they could deal with the matter of the girl as soon as possible. "Cyela, right?"

The reality was that, although there were four days left until the deadline agreed upon with Madame Luchie, they hadn't made any progress in resolving one of the two remaining objectives after the Dullahan's defeat; the quickest and most attainable one within that city. Everyone had their role to play, but… Time passed, progress was nil, and that made Tristessa even more anxious and fueled her insomnia.

"Cyela Audron."

From her dry and unenthusiastic manner, Tristessa had no doubt that this girl was the same one she had met in the Sanctuary greenhouse during that failed loop. Even though she was now wearing the hood of her robes, there was no way to forget that look of disgust on her face. So mature, so alien to a girl her age.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Not only did it drive Tristessa mad, but it gave her a feeling of apathy in the back of her throat, caused by the rudeness her parents had clearly failed to instill in her.

"Are you going to eat that?" she asked, her stomach craving food as she pointed at the meatloaf.

"No... You smell so bad, it'll make my tummy hurt." Cyela covered her nose and mouth, though her dark gaze fixed on Tristessa showed no disgust. It was nothingness, devoid of emotion. Disturbing. "Why do you have so much Discord within you?"

"I've wondered that since I met her a few days ago, child," Severus replied in her place, once again emanating that animosity directed only at her. "But I admit she's not a bad girl… She just smells like something out of your worst nightmares."

"You're right, sir."

Watching the elf and that odious girl bond while Auron and Astoria sipped uncomfortably from their tankards didn't make Tristessa feel any more offended or annoyed.

She helped herself with the meat cake and took a big bite. Minced meat, juicy, and seasoned with spices she didn't feel capable of stimulating her blocked culinary memories. An exotic delicacy, but one that didn't take away the unpleasant taste in her throat.

The taste of suspicion.

Because Tristessa remembered, even more so thanks to her Divinity of the Mind granted by the God Kantrus. There was a book of photographs in her Room of Knowledge; a black cover, titled Loop Four: Attack of the Wraiths, with a section dedicated exclusively to suspects who might have discovered that she was a Stranger and betrayed her nature to the Imperial Assassins.

An action that resulted in the death of that gunslinger who was tilting the hat he had lent to the girl, a grimace resembling a smile forming on his lips as Severus spoke to her.

That girl, one of the prime suspects, as absurd as it sounds. Perhaps it was more than justified paranoia, and she had no evidence to support her theory, but there was nothing to say that Cyela Audron couldn't have known that she was a Stranger.

"An unlikely suspect… For now, you'll remain in that photo album," Tristessa thought, so focused and absorbed in her train of thought that she wasn't discreet enough to avoid attracting the girl's attention. She received a gift in the form of a grimace of revulsion. "…what?"

"A few days ago, I found a dead bird in my greenhouse. It had crashed against the glass wall… How tragic, knowing it met its Death when faced with an obstacle it never saw in its path."

Those words, spoken in the adorable voice of a girl her age, were tainted with a darkness that went beyond rudeness or childish bravado. Tristessa felt true terror lodge in the pit of her stomach, and for a moment, she felt trapped in those onyx-black eyes. Two abysses into which she almost fell, had it not been for Cyela who continued her story after long, disturbing seconds of silence.

"When I tried to move the birdie, I saw maggots under its body. They kept wriggling on top of all that rot… That birdie smelled better than you, miss."

"You fucking brat…"

Just as the throbbing vein in Tristessa's temple nearly burst with rage, the inn's front door swung wide open and a person she knew walked in.

"Excuse me! Did anyone see a Sister from the Sanctuary?! She's a silly girl who wanders off just to piss me off!"

A white-haired old man wearing a gray robe, sporting a bushy beard so long it almost reached his waist. He adjusted the monocle he wore on the side of his right eye and started walking to the reception desk, his owl-like green eyes scanning everything around him, still not noticing the group sitting at the other end of the room.

"Thank you for showing up, Master Caius!" Tristessa celebrated, almost smiling at the sight of the tattooist she'd removed from her list of suspects after the interrogation in the dungeon of Aurelia Eramisaptor's castle. "I could ask him what's going on with my [Divinity of the Dark Room]!"

Tristessa bent her knees to rise from the chair and be the first to draw the tattooist's attention. But at that instant, she realized who she was surrounded by: not counting Cyela, and before Caius could attract attention with his exaggerated entrance, the three warriors enjoying the peace of that seventh day before going against custom and getting down to business.

"I don't think I can…"

The reason for her silence was to avoid worrying them and distracting them from their current objetives. Had it been a risky situation like the Dullahan and their assured nocturnal invasion, she wouldn't have thought twice. But the freezing of her mind palace wasn't something that seemed to worsen or improve after two days, and she saw no effects that could put her or the others at risk.

What was happening inside her mind was a consequence of her Baptism in Ruins disappearing, replaced by that strange, freezing presence that was there only to make its existence known.

Nothing more than that... For the moment.

"Hey, tattooist!" Auron called out to him and took the hat off Cyela so Caius could recognize her. "Over here!"

"There you are, child! What did I tell you about running away and hiding among the crowd?!" The old man stormed toward them, attracting the attention of the clientele and guests. "And to top it all off, you abuse the goodwill of…!"

As he passed the hearth and brushed his beard away from the embers, Caius stopped, as if an invisible wall had been erected in front of him. His crazed gaze filled with dismay, and he blinked several times before his eyes focused on Tristessa.

Horrified and interested at the same time, he was irresistibly drawn to what the Nekromians had grown accustomed to interpreting as the Darkness within their souls.

"Ah…! Well, I apologize for my attitude, miss." Caius bowed his head in penance once he approached the group. "I'm Caius Gaoceiros, a mystical tattooist from the local Sanctuary. Again, I apologize. I've never felt so much Discord in a person before."

"Yes, that first reaction happened to all of us, gramps. Tristessa is a spicy kitten, hehe…" Astoria commented, the alcohol beginning to loosen her tongue and soften the stiff muscles of her face, while Tristessa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Are you taking your apprentice off our clutches?"

"Yes, I appreciate you taking care of her, ladies and gentlemen. And you!" His calm demeanor and peaceful manner exploded into a frenzy of shouting, focused on Cyela. "Troublesome child, you'll see when we get back to the Sanctuary! You'll clean the floors of every hallway until I see my face reflected in them! Thank them and let's go. It's already late for the midday meditation!"

"Boring geezer…" Cyela whispered, though not so quietly that she couldn't be heard and provoked a laugh from Severus.

"What did you say?!"

"Hey, Master Gaoceiros, don't you have a reward for us?" Auron asked, his hands flat on the table and his eyes shining with his typical greed. "We could use a soul-jewel or two, you know."

"Oh boy, I'm just a simple, humble monk. What I can offer you is a discount the next time you want a soul reading or a tattoo."

"Ah… Well, better than nothing."

Beyond the gunslinger's obvious disappointment and the laughter the elf was trying to suppress, Tristessa knew that, once the Mercer-Archeos were safe, she would have to go to Sanctuary so Caius could give her another reading.

To shed light on the dark, antarctic mystery that resided in her mind palace… Or, rather, in the shadow that resides at the junction between her soul and her heart.

"Thank you for watching over me, Handkerchief Mister." Cyela stepped down from her chair and made the same penitential bow as her master, addressing everyone present. "Cane Mister. Drunken Lady."

"Ha! What a funny little girl," Astoria exclaimed, before finishing the remaining content on her tankard.

Finally, there was Tristessa, whom Cyela didn't even greet. Only that animosity, hostility, that anyone would have thought came from the ignorance of a child who had learned to fear and hate everything related to Discord, without differentiating between good and evil.

But Tristessa couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that little girl had transmitted to her ever since she met her in that failed loop. Which made Cyela Audron climb higher on that list of suspects, and was reinforced by what she told her:

"That birdie really seemed to have suffered a lot. Poor thing…"

"…"

"Stop saying weird things, you creepy child! Let's go, now!"

Cyela grabbed onto her master's right sleeve and the two left, followed by the curious glances of the merchants, guests, and Tristessa's group.

She was the most bewildered of all, her mind creating a new photograph of that strange little girl destined for that black-covered album covered in frost.

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