Bare muscles and nerves, sparse strips of grey and unhealthy skin, covered with occasional yellowish fur. A putrescent-looking creature that gave off the stench of a rotting corpse, even though still breathing. Its deformed chest, resembling that of a human with severely dislocated ribs, covered in bruises and asymmetrical, contracted arhythmically. It was the laboured breathing of an animal in pain. The being had manly features, but so distorted as to be more horrifying than any beast from a feverish nightmare. Its slender arms were twice as long as normal and so thin that the shape of its bones was visible beneath what little skin remained. Its legs, arched above the knee and broken cleanly below it, lay lifeless on the altar floor, in a pool of excrements and putrescence. Its feet were covered in faeces and featured long, hooked claws, and so were its hands. The thing's neck was too long to belong to a common human. It was bristling with buboes and other malformations, humps emerging from within its body, as if trying to erupt out of their host. Its muzzle was hidden by long, filthy dark hair, while the back of its head was bald, covered in scabs and scratches.

  Nene stared dumbfounded at the revolting sight, unable to move. Was she supposed to feel pity for That being who was so visibly suffering from its deformed nature? Her insides, however, were still boiling. What was in front of her was not just any cripple, but a damned, blasphemous servant of the Evil One. It looked ancient, considering its condition. The Church’s texts did not hold much information regarding the more advanced stages of the plague since, in the Principality, nobody would ever have been allowed to stay like that for so long. It was a common hypothesis that it would lead the body and mind of the victim to distort more and more. How much and how long had that poor thing been in pain?

  She wanted to scream, to call for help, but her voice failed her when the thing moved its head. Its filthy hair slipped to the side, revealing a face covered in sores, eyes devoured by decay and sealed by scabs, nostrils devoid of a nose and a mouth devoid of lips and teeth, a stinking cavity that contained a long purulent and red tongue.

  A shrill, blood-curdling scream tore the air. The damned struggled like a fish out of water, its legs unable to move. It rested its hands on the ground and began to quickly drag itself towards Nene. She jumped onto a bench just in time to avoid the thing's claws aiming for her ankles, and drew her sword.

  ?What was that??, Kora asked.

  A second scream answered her question. When she rushed to Nene's side, spear in hand, she was shocked to see that creeping aberration writhing on the ground, its claws swirling in the air with frenetic ferocity.

  ?A damned!?, Nene said. ?Back!?

  The thing lunged forward. Its jump was not enough to cover the distance between itself and its targets, so it fell disastrously to the ground. Its body shattered in multiple points upon impact, several blisters and pustules covering it exploded, pouring blood and pus onto the ground.

  ?Nene!?, Nila called.

  ?I'll take care of it, you stay away!?

  Kora held her spear with both hands and lunged at the creature. It rolled onto its side with surprising agility, given the physical condition and clumsiness it had shown up to that point. The shaman's weapon hit the floor with a sharp sound. The damned howled and flailed its arms. Its claws dug into the rock as if it were paper, it gathered momentum and prepared to pounce.

  The thing hurtled towards Nene.

  She slashed upwards, intercepting her attacker on the fly. She sliced him all along its chest, but the momentum didn't stop it from coming at her. She fell backwards, tumbling over the bench and hitting her back and head on the floor. The putrid stench and that of the Evil One clouded her senses, while a rotten and toothless mouth tried to bite her in the face. The damned screamed and threw its head backwards. It got picked up by Kora who, tugging it by the hair, threw it away, freeing Nene from its grasp.

  The shaman helped her to her feet, then she stood between her and the creature.

  ?It looks weak but it's not?, she noticed. ?Careful?

  Nene nodded and stood beside her. The creature flailed on the ground, trying to regain its balance, but its legs couldn't hold up, its movements were spasmodic, frenzied. Its every attempt to get back on its feet failed miserably due to its own fury.

  It grabbed a bench with both hands and lifted it as if it were weightless. Kora didn't hesitate and lunged forward, aiming to stab it in the chest. The damned was quicker and, with incredible strength, threw the bench downwards. The impact hit Kora on the back and knocked her to the ground. The bench broke in two, splinters of wood flew everywhere, as the creature let out a high-pitched, insane scream. An ordinary person would have died instantly, but Kora was not even human. However, despite her unnatural physical prowess, that blow left her on the ground, in pain, writhing in a daze. In her impetus, she had underestimated the agility of that beast and was knocked out of combat.

  The thing leaned over her with a curious look, sniffing the air and emitting blood-curdling gasps. It grabbed her arm. Her feeble attempts to free herself were to no avail: it was about to devour her. A chill ran down Nene's back. She had to act. She wasn’t about to stand by and watch as a servant of the Evil One killed an innocent soul.

  She darted forward. When she was one step away from the being, she raised her sword and slashed downwards. The damned raised an arm to protect itself. Her blow cut through the little flesh that remained on that miserable body, its bones shattered under the impact. The creature rolled backwards, tumbling to the ground, screaming like a maniac. It dragged itself away while holding its broken arm with the other one, half of which dangled lifelessly, barely still attached to the rest of the forearm.

  Nene glanced at Kora, who, although stunned, was getting down on all fours. Having made sure that she was not seriously injured, she returned her attention to her opponent, who suddenly seemed frightened, wading. It screeched at her, then curled into a ball. Its inhuman verses filled the church, like a song of pain. Taking advantage of its moment of weakness, Nene dropped her sword to the ground. The metallic sound echoed off the walls, and the beast jumped in terror. She took out her dagger and the cross, to finish it off once and for all. She pointed the silver cross forward, as if it were a shield, and pressed on. The damned turned towards her. Its head trembled with tiny spasms. Its empty mouth dripped saliva and other fluids. Contrary to Nene's expectations, the being did not react to the cross like every other damned. Instead of turning agitated and screaming in pain, the damned calmed down, perhaps resigned to its defeat.

  The monster collapsed onto its side and wrapped itself in its arms, or what was left of them, then began to mumble. Nene hesitated, unsure of the meaning of that unusual behaviour. She was a couple of metres from the beast, waiting for an opening to pierce it with the dagger, yet she hesitated. Had the damned given up, or was there more to it? She had learned the hard way that throwing herself into the unknown could cost her dearly, and that damned was decidedly unusual. She watched it for a moment as she considered what to do. Was it a trap? A trick?

  ?What are you doing?!?, Adanara shouted.

  The creature's verses had a certain cadence, rhythmic, almost musical. Nene strained her ears and, in disbelief, recognised some words. Her mind was completely blown away, unable to process what was happening. She knew the words that were coming out of that blasphemous, deformed mouth…

  ?... Prithee Lord, allow us into Thy Kingdom. Alas, we all were born in sin...?

  A prayer, an old supplication taught by Church scholars as a song of encouragement. Nene couldn't believe her ears. It was commonly sung by priests to soldiers or Knights before they left for war, an attempt to quell their fears for their mortal life, to remind them of eternal salvation they would find in God’s presence should they fall. Whoever that being was, it understood that it was about to die, and was praying for the salvation of its soul.

  Looking at it more carefully, Nene noticed that, although its body was battered and deformed, a particular area around the centre of its chest looked different. Every corner of that monstrosity was covered in filthy fur, hideous skin, sores and pustules, except that spot, which instead appeared reddish, as if afflicted by an infection, but not by damnation. In that spot, normal human skin, however battered and covered in scabs, was hiding a secret.

  A cross.

  The tissues and scabs had absorbed a small cross and lay as if set in the centre of the damned’s chest. A chain, stuck into its body in the same way, encircled its obscene neck.

  ?Who are you??, Nene asked.

  The monster, blind, raised its head and checked in multiple directions. Finally, it turned to her and moved its trembling mouth.

  ?Art thou... an Inquisitor??

  The beast's voice was hoarse. Its hideous mouth emitted sounds that were difficult to understand, and yet it spoke.

  ?Yes. And you??

  The damned began to sob. It held its forehead with one hand, its body shaking while crying.

  ?I was a priest at this church. Calamio was mine name?

  Nene almost fainted. Her intuition had proven correct: what was in front of her was a priest of the Church, infected by damnation for God knows how long, despite the protection of the Archangel. The mere thought that the Evil One had somehow managed to bypass the Church's main defence threw her into a panic. She felt naked, vulnerable like never before in her life. She had grown up assuming that, one day, once she had become Inquisitor, she would have been safe from its influence, and could have dedicated her gift and her life to protecting others, but she wasn’t... Was she at all?

  ?What... how did you end up like this??

  The monster continued to sob, a cry that resembled a whimper. He gasped for a long time, as if unable to speak, perhaps overwhelmed by emotions, perhaps forced into that ignoble condition for too long, alone and abandoned to himself.

  ?I pray thee, cleanse mine filthy soul, Inquisitor?

  ?Wait a moment…. I have some questions...?

  ?Make haste!?

  The unfortunate man pitifully burst into tears. He began to weakly bang his head on the ground, moaning and praying as if in the grip of a painful delirium. Nene remembered her first purge. The damned she had saved, in decidedly less serious conditions, had complained of profound pain. Having partially experienced herself what it meant to come into contact with the Evil One, she could only try to imagine the atrocities that man had endured.

  ?So be it?, she said. ?I will save your soul?

  The creature sobbed again but gradually calmed down. He slowly turned towards her, and collapsed onto the ground, on his back, letting his arms fall.

  ?I hast guarded mine faith in the Lord, Inquisitor. I committed unredeemable sin, yet ne’er lost hope in salvation...?

  ?I believe you. I will pray that you can find it?

  Calamio showed her what was supposed to be a smile, but resulted in a gruesome grimace of pain, thanks to his bestial features. His laboured breathing sounded inhuman, and Nene had to gather all her courage to get closer to that thing. Her instinct told her to stay on guard, to keep her distance from the beast that, until seconds before, was attacking her with blind fury. The putrid stench and the presence of the Evil One made her revolt to the point of almost vomiting. She brought the cross on the forehead of the damned. His skin boiled, burned by the sacred silver. The poor priest, accustomed to years, perhaps decades, of suffering, almost didn't bat an eyelid.

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  ?Have mercy on this lost soul?, she recited.

  ?Lord, forgive me!?, the beast howled. ?Oh, miserable me, I hast given up mine most precious!?

  Nene held the silver blade. She brought it close to the creature's chest, but he, with a slow, delicate gesture, grabbed her wrists. That contact made her wince, his sharp and filthy claws scratched her skin.. She stood still, fearing the worst, fearing she had exposed herself to danger. To her great surprise, Calamio directed her dagger downwards. He guided her hands to his lower abdomen and only then released her.

  ?Your heart… is here?!?, Nene deduced.

  ?Methinks so…?

  She took a breath and looked at the damned’s face. The sight of it made her dizzy. Tears blurred her vision. She looked up at the fresco that was dominating the church, but not even the representation of the Archangel could calm her down. She had to hurry, put an end to that poor soul's suffering, and to her own. Behind her, she heard Adanara's voice, but could not make out the meaning of her words. The stench, the fear and the shocking revelation had stunned her to the point that she was acting without thinking straight.

  ?May God have mercy on you?

  The creature's breathing increased. His belly swelled to the point of touching the silver blade.

  ?Be blessed?

  Nene closed her eyes. She should have watched, She should have made sure of the precision of her thrust, she should have tried to comfort the damned during the purge, but she couldn’t. With all of her might, she pushed down.

  Calamio's flesh offered little resistance to her dagger. She felt his body stiffen, she heard his moans and gasps. A skeletal hand grabbed her arm, a disgusting but heartfelt gesture of appreciation, while the priest awaited the passing of his last, painful moments, and his liberation from the Evil One and the sufferings of mortality.

  Running footsteps reached her from behind. She made out the voices of Nila and Adanara hurrying to her side. She didn’t find the courage to open her eyes until a heavy hand grabbed her shoulder and threw her back.

  ?What have you done?!?, the witch screamed. ?Why?! Why???!!!?

  She stared at Adanara's furious face, unable to respond. After a few moments, the witch looked beyond her and, seeing the damned more closely, turned pale. She let go and walked away, shocked.

  ?Nene??, Nila called her.

  She was about to lose her balance and collapse to the ground, but Nila grabbed her shoulders and supported her.

  ?Nene! Talk to me! Nene??

  She looked around, dizzy. She noticed the bench that had been shattered during the fight and a lazy, lethargic thought formed in her confused mind.

  ?Kora…?

  ?I'm fine?, the shaman replied, standing in front of her. ?And you? Are you hurt??

  She shook her head. In the meantime, Adanara sat on a bench and was hugging herself. She stared into nothingness for a few moments, craned her neck forward, and finally vomited. The witch's revolting sounds attracted Nila and Kora's attention, who rushed to her.

  Nene, abandoned to herself, turned around. She witnessed the mess she had just made. The damned lay lifeless on the ground. The wound in his belly had shed very little blood and his deformed limbs were no longer crossed by spasms of madness and pain. What should have been the vision of a peaceful demise, a liberation from an eternal and horrifying damnation, was nothing more than the sad putrid remnant of what was once a man of the Church.

  Emotions she couldn't understand assailed her, and instincts screamed at her to run away. It took her a moment to find the strength to get up. When she finally got to her feet, she wobbled and fell to her knees again.

  ?Nene??, Nila called.

  She tried to get up again. After regaining her balance, she headed for the entrance of the church and began running.

  ?Nene!?

  Nene collapsed to the ground, facing the cemetery, resting her back against the church wall. She was breathing hard, but not due to being tired. The world around her appeared distorted as if on a scorching day, distant and unreal as in a dream. Her own thoughts had abandoned her, only emptiness remained. For some reason, she remembered Elora, her gentle, compassionate mannerism. She tried in vain to stop shaking, to breathe regularly again, but her body was greedy for air, and no matter how much she inhaled, it was never enough. She felt about to die of asphyxiation, so she kept on gasping. The mounds of the cemetery moved further away and closer, monstrous noises echoed in the surrounding area, like thunders and screams. She screamed back at them but no sound came out. Her mouth was sealed. She touched it and found her lips closed. As much as she tried to scream, to call for help, she couldn't.

  A figure obscured her field of vision. Terror assailed her. She froze completely and broke out in a cold sweat.

  ?Nene??

  That voice sounded familiar. It took her a moment to recognise Nila, bending over before her. She observed her hair, usually so well cared for, now frizzy and messy after days of travel. She remembered her embrace, the peaceful and intimate moments spent together at the farm, where she had finally felt safe for the first time since leaving the monastery. Her breathing slowed little by little. She grabbed a sleeve of Nila's shirt. Reality began to settle in. What had seemed like a mirage became solid again: she was in the cemetery in front of the church.

  It was all real.

  She kept trembling, shaken by strong emotions, unable to process what she had witnessed, and what she had done.

  ?Nene, look at me?, Nila ordered.

  She raised her eyes and met hers. Nila was visibly worried, but there was more. Her gaze conveyed something intense that she couldn't decipher, but still arose in her a strong desire to be held. She was unable to move, however, or give voice to her thoughts. Nila caressed her cheek and smiled. She came very close, her voice almost a whisper.

  ?I was thinking, w-when we go back home… we should get you a new pillow?

  Her words confused her. Unable to understand why she was suddenly talking about something so mundane, she frowned, but received an even bigger smile in return. Unsure what to do, she tried to indulge her.

  ?The one I have is fine?, she replied.

  ?Then why do y-you always end up on mine??

  She blushed. Nila for sure knew why she was acting the way she was, so she had no reason to explain it out loud.

  ?Because… it's not the pillow that I’m after…?, she muttered.

  Nila laughed as she continued to caress her. Nene took a deep breath one last time and looked around: she was experiencing real madness firsthand, one of those stories that would have kept the cadets awake at night. She looked at her hands. Her fingers and the brown sleeves of her jacket were stained with dark blood. In her right hand, she was still clutching the silver dagger.

  ?Nila…?, she whimpered.

  ?Yes??

  ?That... that damned...?

  ?That man?

  ?He was sick. He was sick and I helped him...right??

  ?You did?, Nila replied immediately. ?Unfortunately, there was nothing else to do?

  ?Right? Right??

  She cried. Nila grabbed her face with both hands, caressing her cheeks almost indelicately. The more she cried, the more Nila smiled, even though she was trying so hard. Her eyes were also red, and her hands were tense.

  ?You did good?

  Nila moved even closer. She gave her a fleeting kiss on the lips, then rested her forehead against hers. She continued to smile through tears as if she were the one who had committed that foul sin. Nene's body responded to her will again, so she raised her arms. She held Nila close and rested her head against her lap. She remembered that silly remark about her pillow and smiled bitterly.

  ?If you wish, I could have my own bed?

  ?No, that's fine. I-I was just teasing you a bit?

  ?Thank you?

  Kora peeked out from inside the church while holding up a blank-looking Adanara. The witch was still pale and dazed, her gaudy pointed hat dangled on her back, tied around her neck by a string, as she was leaning on her master. The shaman helped her sit next to Nene and offered her a rudimentary skin full of water. Adanara refused.

  ?Ada, drink a bit?, Nila intervened. ?H-how do you feel??

  ?Ugh?, she moaned.

  ?I have some incense?, Kora said. ?We need to get that smell out of our nostrils?

  She retrieved a scented stick from an inside pocket of her cloak. Rubbing her fingers over it she lit it, then waved it so the aromatic smoke spread all around them. Adanara continued to blink very frequently as she stared at the ground, and her gaze gradually became more focused. She got back some colour and finally accepted the water offer. Then, she turned to Nene.

  ?Why??, she asked.

  ?Why? Because… he begged me…?

  ?Who would ever want... to end up like that??

  ?Ada, you s-saw him. Nene did what was needed?

  ?Oh, really?! Nila, are you with her?!?

  The witch's voice trembled. Nila’s words of comfort, to her, felt like a backstab. Her emotions were getting the better of her, and the idea that her sister was defending the Church's ways was making her lose her mind. She stood up and paced back and forth.

  ?He was a priest of the Church?, Nene explained. ?He begged me to purge him?

  ?Of course! This is the best solution, now, isn’t it? We could have helped him, I’m telling you! Help him for real! And instead, you have… you have…?

  ?Ada, calm down!?

  Nila ran to her sister and tried to grab her by the arms, but she wriggled away furiously. Reason had left her. Nene thought she was having a panic attack similar to hers earlier, so she tried to stay calm, in the hope that Adanara would soon calm down. Her words were hurting deeply, tho.

  ?She killed him! And we stood watching!?

  ?T-that's not true… we… It was dangerous, Ada. Also, he was sick. I-if you had saved him from the Evil One, he would still have died from his wounds and infections?

  ?Don’t you…! Don’t…!?

  Adanara cowered and began to sob. Nila bent down next to her. This time, it was her sister who sought her contact. She clung to her shoulders and cried her eyes out, moaning pitifully and calling out for their father.

  ?Could you explain what just happened??, Kora asked.

  ?I'm not sure?, Nene said. ?That… thing that attacked us was once a priest of the Church. The Church is based in the Principality and is responsible for fighting the Evil One, so I don't understand how he ended up here and become damned... but... Let's say that it is our craft to do what I did, when necessary?

  ?I understand. I think that yours, regardless of customs, was an act of mercy?

  ?Thank you, Kora?

  ?Respecting the will of those who leave us can be a burden?, she added, turning to Adanara. ?A burden that the living must carry for the dead to be free. I understand your anger, but at least remember that today a person has been freed from their pain?

  Adanara, with red eyes and lips curled in a pitiful grimace, barely raised her head and whispered something inaudible. Only Nila heard what she said, and smiled.

  ?Say it again, she didn't hear you?

  The witch grumbled and frowned, but finally spoke again.

  ?I'm sorry, Nene?

  Nene was surprised, so much so that she didn't know how to respond. She stared at her in dismay for a few moments. In the meantime, Adanara went back to curl up against her sister, looking like a defenceless puppy. That was her vulnerable side, the one she tried so hard to hide.

  ?I didn't want to?, Nene said. ?I'm… still convinced your way is better. I think this was an exception?

  The witch nodded. Nila held her close and put the hat back on her head.

  ?I have another question?, Kora said. ?Why were you all fascinated by that painting in the church? Does it mean anything??

  ?It represents the Archangel, patron of the Church. This is my interpretation, but I believe that the one depicted in front of Him is the Evil One. In the scene, the Archangel is chasing away the Evil One to protect a little girl?

  ?Are two spirits at war??

  ?Something like that…?

  ?Is that so??

  Kora eyed Nene thoughtfully. Nene, for her part, tried to put herself in her shoes. It was difficult for her to assimilate so much of the Principality's culture in a short time. Yet the shaman, more than confused, seemed troubled.

  ?I’ll take my leave for a moment. You hold the incense?, she said, offering the scented stick to Nene.

  ?Where are you going? It's dangerous here!?

  ?I have to think. I will stay inside the cemetery, don't worry. If anything happens, we'll be within earshot?

  ?Is everything okay??

  Kora didn't say anything else. She approached Adanara, lifted the sheath of her hat to look at her face and smiled. Once she was sure of the condition of her pupil, she walked away. As promised, she stopped at the low wall that surrounded the cemetery. She hoisted herself onto it and balanced on one foot. Once she assumed that seemingly precarious position, she stopped moving completely.

  ?What's wrong with her??, Nene asked.

  ?Dunno. She’s a weirdo?, Adanara replied.

  ?E-everything is weird around here, don't you think??

  ?Yes. As if nature follows different rules. I wonder, is it us, or is something... unnatural happening here??

  Adanara looked at her with satisfaction and even smiled. Ignoring the reason behind it, Nene stood up and looked around.

  ?I have never read anything in Master Ezio's t-texts that reminds me of this place?, Nila said.

  ?So it is us. I'll go back inside?

  ?What??

  ?I want to look better at that fresco, and at the church. And also the damned. You stay here?

  ?A-are you sure it's safe??

  Nene sheathed the dagger, trying to ignore the traces of drying blood on its blade. She didn’t feel like cleaning it at the moment. She forced a smile.

  ?Everything is fine, now. Also, I need to get back my sword?