The Heresy Within

Fire and Shadow

After dark heart no Arbit aprin thank well said with a smile, one friends and foes chapter one the Arbiter burn them all thank will try to hide the Sigh that creeped up on him he failed something to say With hollow eyes, the gaunt Arbiter print peered back at him, warning him that he was a deadly man to cross.had no desire to create yet another adversary within the Inquisition, but I'm not sure if it's actually required.

to set them on fire Thankful's words flew out of his mouth before he could control them. The prince took a few steps closer, his face distorted with anger, a terrible grimace emerging on his thin lips, and beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Thank God, he was far too close to print for comfort; the man looked even worse up close. Are you in charge here? With every word, Arbiter Duck Art's sour breath blasted Thanquil in the face, and his large, angry eyes stared into his own, refusing to respond.

Why are you here, side gazing anywhere but at the Aging Arbiter now that you're invading his personal space? Thought I'd lend a hand because, well, I look like I need it. Prince's voice was too deep for such a thin man going through on my route to Soth. Anquil's own voice sounded unsteady compared to Prince. Judge Thank you, Will. The terrified faces in the throng stared back before dropping their heads to the ground. Dark heart, hot, foul breath again, with an odd scent of vanilla.

There was a family tied to stakes in the middle of the Town Square; a mother and father were plainly visible, the mother sobbed, the father looked scared and angry but did not shed tears, and a daughter who was just entering womanhood was yelling an apology for something or other and calling out a name over and over. The terrified faces looked back and then dropped their eyes to the ground, not wanting to draw the attention of an arbiter. Soldiers, some with swords, others with pikes

thanks couldn't tell and didn't care that the fourth member of the family was a young kid who couldn't have been older than five. The youngster followed thankful's gaze and snorted, asking what was wrong. Thanks to Dark Art, he evokes memories of wearing his most terrifying expression and staring a hole through the man in front of him. Indeed, avatarprin, it appears that you require assistance, but I am unable to provide any salt. He made a small insult to himself by tapping his skull with a single finger.

and ridiculous thing to say, thank you very much, but it felt damned good to say it. Arbiter Prince snorted once more, then turned around and stalked toward the bound family, feeling thankful and wanting to exhale, but he restrained himself this time. There was no point in continuing the argument, even though burning the family alive was more than extreme; a simple beheading would have accomplished the same goal and avoided the stench of burning flesh, which the thankful knew was extremely difficult to remove from clothing. Thank will dig his hands into the

pockets of his stained Brown coat and decided to watch The Burning instead of giving Prin the satisfaction of seeing him go before it was finished. He found something in his right pocket that appeared to be metal, smaller than a coin but thicker, with a stub emerging from the flat side. Thank Wool, but he had no idea where or when he had stolen it. He also noticed that he frequently found small objects in his pockets, and this one appeared to have some sort of engraving on it.

scuffed finger over it and saw the pattern A sword in the center, the sun overhead, and a single beam of light shining down. It was a button from an Arbiter's coat. Thankwell peered down at his own brown coat, which still had all eight of its buttons, buckles, and pockets attached. He then turned to face Arbiter Prin, who had the exact same coat, albeit muddied and slightly longer, with two buttons missing. Thank God he wasn't going to return the button, little victories He'd been taught by Inquisitor Heron that he could overcome even the

largest of men and arbiter Prin wasn't that big, thank you. He took his hands out of his pockets and ran them through his greasy hair, which was growing longer again and beginning to curl. He then stroked his chin's stubble, which was almost a beard that he would soon need to shave. Finally, he began cracking his knuckles one by one, reasoning that if Prin was going to burn them, the least he could do was move on, bloody witch Hunters. A cry came from the crowd, and someone snapped around to find the

the voice's origin He looked at Prin with hollow eyes protruding from black sockets and his lips curving into a horrifying sneer. Then, he held up a hand in placation, saying, "Just go on with your burning; I'll deal with the angry masses." Which of you do you think we'll ask the crowd? the Arbiter Print turned away and thanked Will as he headed towards the throng. The soldiers, sporting pikes and soiled clothes, moved aside to allow him to pass. An older man with weather-beaten facial hair dropped in clumps, I said.

He was shocked that he had admitted it, and you could tell by the tears in his eyes that he thought we would ask again since he disliked having his questions answered. That's my boy and his family; they have done nothing wrong, but they have acknowledged that, and they have done so in a firm and polite manner. Heresy comes in many forms, and they have been questioned, found guilty, and will pay a price for their evil. You witch Hunters don't seem to care.

Though thank will was not very tall, he appeared to tower over the man. Be careful what you say, old man—we are not all the same. Thankful's hand went out and he grabbed the man by his shirt, drawing him closer. He finished by giving the old man a hard shove, sending him crashing to the Earth in a heap and with a Yelp of pain. It wasn't something he was thankful for, but he couldn't allow someone to talk back. Arbiter Prin over there would have you whipped for calling him a witch hunter. Be thankful, I am more forgiving.

He hissed at the crowd, trained and sanctioned by the Inquisition, and each person nearby averted their eyes. Disgusted with himself, he turned and stalked toward the arbiterprin you let him off lightly. To an arbiter, if he let one off without even a warning soon they'd all be talking back we are Arbiters thank you. With a deep voice, Arbiter Dark Art Prince said, "The young boy who was still tied to the stake was watching thank you with unnerving calm eyes; there was no fear, no anger."

The child then gave a small smile and expressed gratitude for having witnessed Prin do the same act that had condemned the entire family. Darkness, move on. When the Arbiter's torch burst into flame, an act that would have even the most dramatic of bards gasping in awe, Prin CK growled, unable to take his eyes off the evil he saw in the boy. Young Arbiter Prin took a deep breath, and I claimed these voices rang out with an unnatural volume.

the fire rushed to consume everything it could, and it didn't take long for the screaming to begin. Thankwell took a few steps back and watched with a grim mask of determination before Prin joined him, still believing a beheading would have sufficed. lowered it first toward the father's pyre, then the mothers, then the daughters, and finally the boys. Each boy took only a moment to catch light, and the flames began eating at the wood.well said, his voice hardly audible above a whisper.

Thank you for the boy's observation. They sat in silence for a while, and even though the rats seemed to be avoiding the tavern, the flames continued to consume the wood bodies of the pyre. You may be correct that the boy had never seen a tavern so empty. He chose a dark corner of the room to avoid attention, and Prin joined him. For two hours, they sat in silence, and Thank Will was unable to claim he was enjoying the company

The two Arbiters were waiting for victims in the corner like shadows of doom, and the same customers left right away. The owner of the Tavern appeared unhappy. Normally, he would have been busy serving only two Grim visitors, and Prin had been sipping the same ale for two hours. At least, thankful had the grace to be on his fourth heading to Surf when the question, "Are you Prince?" was asked. It was so unexpected that thankful had to make sure he hadn't dreamed it up. Prin was staring at the owner with a gaunt face.

and light his dirt The brown coat was stained and had two missing buttons. He thanked me, digging around in his pocket and feeling the Arbiters button before deciding not to give it back. He then tried to think of something more to say, but couldn't think of anything, so he took another swallow of ale to fill the gap. How long has it been since you were in the capital three years ago? A part of him is grateful that Prin would stop talking, and another part of him wishes that Prin would just piss him off. Other than the god Emperor being in the capital, not much has changed.

Prince seemed to be the kind of arbiter who enjoyed asking questions, as if his compulsion might somehow work on grateful no I wasn't but weren't you yeah it was me hmm Arbiter. You were in charge of everything you worked there for his inauguration. After a week of traveling to serve print, Prince seemed to run out of questions. He thanked God and sent a prayer of gratitude. However, he soon recognized the absurdity and nearly laughed. His deep voice was still audible among the deafening The tavern's silence brought some companionship on the way.

I was just beginning to enjoy your company, so I said, "Not particularly, it's not me shame," and he bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything more. Then, he saw the open hostility in Arbiter Prince's eyes, "Sorry, Arbiter, so not you." A girl found her a month ago in a border village; she has potential; she played with the button in his pocket; after a month, I'm surprised she hasn't set herself on fire again. Seeing that look of hostility from Prince, I gave up on apologizing.

She is still quite young. Arbiter Dark Art took the button out of his pocket and made sure Arbiter Prince saw it before he flicked it into the air, pocketed it again, and said, "Fine, I'll do this favor for you." Prince's voice was little more than a hiss, not even in her tenth year. Arbiter Prin nodded once, then stood up from the table and headed for the exit with an evil smile. I'll be departing tomorrow at dawn, so make sure she's ready to go.

He could have simply left and let Arbiter prin deliver the girl to the Inquisition on his own, but if he took the girl the Arbiter would owe him a favor and he could use a little help. Thankwell couldn't help but notice the man did not pay for his ale. Dawn found thankful waiting outside the tavern standing with his little chestnut mare staring at him with dull eyes wondering why it had been taken out of the Stables only to stand around waiting its bags were packed and yet here it waited and thank will was in the same boat.

a couple of those When Prin and the girl arrived, the girl looked young, with smooth skin, bright eyes, and short, messy blonde curls hanging down from her head. She hurried behind Arbiter Prin, looking up every few steps but mostly fixing her gaze on the ground beneath her feet. Apologies for being late. This is Darkhart, he said to the girl, "introduce yourself, good day, sir." The girl replied in a deep voice that Arbiter Prin had managed to obtain two new buttons somewhere and had stitched them onto his coat.

She was walking when he interrupted her, saying, "Quiet and soft, my name is I really don't care thankful. Turn to Arbiterprin. She'll do fine, thank you." He turned to face the girl, who appeared to be wearing only the rags that passed for clothing on her back, a sturdy-looking pair of boots, and an interesting-looking necklace around her neck. He asked, "Maybe you owe me prin." All he got in return was a horrifying smile, after which he turned to walk away, with the girl hurried to keep up behind him.