Joshua finished brushing his teeth and was just about ready to leave for class. He tightened his brown belt around his gray suit pants and put on his matching jacket in a fluid motion. He then adjusted his collar and looked at the mirror, but couldn't find the energy to practice his smile. This morning had been somewhat rough for Joshua. Getting out of bed felt like a monumental struggle, more so than usual, and the only reason he found the motivation to do it was because he already had food waiting for him, ready to eat.

The young man felt that buying that food was the only good decision he made yesterday. He really dropped the ball during that encounter. Not only did he fall for the distraction, but when he finally stormed the enemy's building, the mage managed to get away. Those few minutes he lost while chasing the rottweiler were critical to the situation. Even if the mage still got away, it could've probably been enough to save Elizabeth… Joshua shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it now. Really, it wasn't his fault things turned out like that.

It's irrational to blame himself for the deeds of others. The enemy mage was the culprit here, not him. So what if Joshua's fumble had grim ramifications? It was his nature. Sure, a human would've been focused on subduing the attacker, be it out of anger or fear, but that kind of emotionally-fueled decision making is what causes so many of humanity's conflicts. A being like him is above things like that. His detachment is there by design. Going against it had already caused him too much suffering in his life, so he wasn't going to start fighting it again. Change came easy for humans, but for him? It was pretty much impossible.

Beating himself up for his mistakes was silly. He wasn't perfect, so expecting perfection from himself was delusional at best and masochistic at worst. He decided then and there to stop feeling guilty, since it really was out of his control. And yet, as he descended the stairs and entered his office, he didn't feel any better. The smell of tobacco lingered in the room, letting him know that Margaret was there. She sat on the couch with her feet kicked up on the coffee table, wearing bleached jeans and a loosely fitting red t-shirt. The old woman smiled and said:

"Glad you're up at a decent hour. I was afraid I was going to wait a while here."

Joshua scowled. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Margaret raised an eyebrow. "I'll ignore your rudeness since it's so rare coming from you." She dropped her feet off the table and straightened her posture. "What's got you like this?"

"Bad night. Ran into trouble investigating your case and we suffered some… casualties."

"Don't tell me Al…"

"No, he's fine. Well, he has a couple of dog bites, but he's alright. It's just that this reporter forced us to bring her along and…"

"Ahh, I see." Margaret pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Not my problem then. So, I'm here for an update. Give me something good, Joshua. I really need it."

Joshua grabbed a wooden chair and turned it towards the couch, sitting on it afterwards. "We found a couple of things, but nothing too concrete. Right now, the Martins are the biggest suspects. They attacked Al before he even knew about the case, and they had already visited the morgue before us. They're probably the ones who attacked us last night, since it was right after we left the morgue. I wouldn't be surprised if they were keeping an eye out for anyone that came poking around. The victim's lab assistant told us she saw him argue with his family frequently. Add this to the other things, and it becomes pretty obvious that they're trying to hide something, even if I'm still not sure they killed him."

Margaret nodded. "They're the ones pushing for war. The Gandors and Laforets, along with the Freeman, are backing them as well. That Rellik Martin guy, though…" She let out a puff of smoke. "...he's as bloodthirsty as they come. It wouldn't surprise me if he killed one of his own just to start a war. One thing, Joshua. Did you just say the lab assistant was a 'she'?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Nothing." Margaret shook her head. "I just find it odd. The Martins are notorious misogynists. Back when I earned my seat at the Tribunal, they were the first ones to throw a fit. To think that one of them worked with a woman. I never would've guessed it."

"Welp, I guess that's I have for now." Joshua stood up and stretched his arms. "I have class soon. Anything else you want?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." Margaret put out her cigarette and stood up. "The Tribunal will be meeting tonight, and I want you to come along. Things are getting tense, and I want some backup in case something happens."

"Really? You want backup 'just in case'?" Joshua walked towards the office door. "Is this you being cautious or are you using your unique spell?"

Margaret smiled. "I won't deny my luck seems better if you attend the congregation, but I doubt any family lord will get aggressive. Any assault on me would result in the other families converging on the attacker immediately; it's part of the Tribunal agreement. I guess you could say it's a bit of both."

Joshua considered denying her request, but then he remembered he didn't have a say in the matter. Margaret was just giving him the illusion of choice, since she would just force him to come if he said no. Joshua nodded in agreement and opened the door for her. He then walked out, closed the door, and heard Margaret say:

"See you tonight, kid!"

Joshua sighed and shook his head. Margaret's unique spell was one of those that seemed unfair to him. Her ability allowed her to literally see luck, whatever that meant. In practice, it made her decision making nearly infallible. She could always make the choice that granted the highest likelihood of success for her. It didn't extend to those around her, though, or whoever she chose, just her personally. This implied that something was almost certain to happen at the congregation tonight and that it wouldn't be good for him. Joshua could hope that maybe it's because he needs to fulfil some mundane role at the event, but he didn't think that was very likely. Whatever. No point in speculating if it wasn't going to influence his actions. He was still going, no matter what. Joshua then shrugged and focused on the day ahead of him, reviewing the subjects of today's classes. He had a couple of things to do, but before he could work on any of them, he had to visit Elizabeth, to apologize and see how she was holding up.

[Break]

Elizabeth woke up to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. It was a vaulted roof made of brown stone, very old by its appearance. Light shone through a colorful window pane, but it made everything too bright for her. Her eyes stung as they adjusted to the lighting, but after rubbing them for a while, the soreness went away. She then noticed she rested on a bed. An unassuming one with white sheets and a thin blanket. Her body felt weightless, rejuvenated, like every trace of anxiety and tension had left it. She then clenched her jaw and widened her eyes with fear. Was this the afterlife? The last thing she remembered was getting mauled by the dogs and getting her eye torn out… Elizabeth shuddered. Her memory was too vivid. She didn't need those thoughts right now. Even acknowledging what happened made her skin crawl.

"Finally!" said Al, sitting on a wooden chair across the room. "You're awake! I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the whole day."

Elizabeth sat upright, touching her face and left shoulder. She couldn't feel the wounds. She then raised her shirt to look at her back, but didn't see any scars or blemishes. Weird. Al subtly nursed his bandaged left arm with a bored expression, barely acknowledging the fact he was injured. The bandages were wrapped all the way to his elbow, or that's what Elizabeth assumed because Al's jacket covered the rest of it. Elizabeth squinted her eyes, puzzled. If Al still had his injuries, then she probably imagined the ones she acquired. Maybe she fainted when the monsters appeared and dreamt the rest of the horrible stuff. It wouldn't be the first time she had a realistic nightmare like that, and she shouldn't be alive if she remembered everything correctly. It didn't actually happen, then.

Elizabeth sighed. At least she knew she wasn't in heaven. Any afterlife that included a jerk like Al would be automatically disqualified as a paradise. Then again, she didn't really practice any religion, and non-believers never go to heaven, only purgatory at best. Elizabeth swallowed nervously. What if this was hell? She then looked at Al and softly said:

"Where am I?"

"You're inside the university's church. Last night, a necromancer rallied an army of undead animals and tried to kill us. He almost succeeded with you, but we managed to bring you here in time."

Elizabeth relaxed. She knew it was silly to think she was dead, but the worry still lingered in her mind. A realization then struck her. "Wait a second. A church? Why the hell did you take me here?! Sure, I was unconscious, but it could've been something serious, you know?"

Al frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry, would you prefer I took you to a cemetery?"

"No, if I'm fainting in the middle of the street, I'd rather be taken to a freaking hospital!"

"A hospital?" Al laughed in disbelief. "Name one hospital that can cure a body as torn as yours was without leaving a single scar!"

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Are you saying I was really mauled? Then how am I fine?"

Al rolled his eyes. "Healing magic, normie. You were in critical condition, but I managed to stabilize you long enough to get you here. The priest did the rest of the work."

A knock on the door announced someone's presence. A male voice outside then said:

"I heard people talking. Inquisitor Wilfery, may I come in?"

"Yeah," said Al, "come in. She's awake now."

The door opened with a creak, revealing a smiling young priest. He had short, light-brown hair with a widow's peak and a concerned expression on his face. His black cassock was weaved with intricate golden patterns and it fluttered as he approached Elizabeth. It seemed it was slightly too big for him because of how loose he wore it. He made a half-prayer sign with his right hand, bowed gently, and said:

"I trust you're feeling well, young lady?"

"Yeah, thanks. Are you the one who healed me?"

"Yup! I'm Father Matthews. I run the local parish." He flashed a big smile. "I'd like to make sure I did a good job with everything. Sometimes only the patient can tell if something's wrong. Are you able to see out of your right eye clearly?"

Elizabeth covered her left eye, testing the vision on her right. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Ahh, good. That had one me worried. Optic nerves are very delicate. Can you lift your left arm easily? Your trapezius muscle was in really bad shape when I worked on it." Elizabeth raised her left arm, but stopped half-way due to some soreness. The wince she made was enough for Father Matthews to note her discomfort. "It seems I still have to make some adjustments. Can you turn around and lift your shirt?"

Elizabeth nodded and followed his instruction. She then felt him touch her upper back with a firm, but relaxing grip. A comfortable warmness exuded from his hand, creating a strange tingling sensation throughout the area. Some stiffness left her back, but it didn't feel completely fixed. Father Matthews then said:

"This is going to take a couple of minutes. Please, feel free to talk while I'm working here."

"Oh, okay," said Elizabeth, "thanks. So Al, what does this mean for the case? I'm guessing whoever resurrected those animals is working with the killer, right? Or could it be the same person? What about that guy from the morgue? He seemed to work with undead."

"Everything's too unclear right now" said Al. "I don't really know what to make of this. One thing's for sure, it wasn't Lenny. Something as powerful as what we saw last night can only be a unique spell, and Lenny already has a different spell. He could probably reanimate one animal, but the quantity we faced? It's too much. I also doubt it's the same person. The simpler answer is that we're dealing with two unique spells, which means that we have a minimum of two mages involved in the murder. I'm guessing they're in the same group or something."

"You mean like the Martins?" Elizabeth gasped for a moment, feeling an uncomfortable sensation on her back. Father Matthews gave her an apologetic smile when she looked back. "Yeah, that would make sense. Still, why would you assume it's a group? Isn't only the two of them working together more likely?"

"Nah. Think about it. Mages only make up point-zero zero five percent of the city's population. The odds of two mages meeting and covering each other's back are actually lower than the odds of a group of mages contacting and recruiting each other. With a third party to introduce them, it becomes significantly easier to carry out any schemes. I'm not saying it's not possible, it's just that in my experience, it works out that way most of the time. Either way, it doesn't change our approach. We just have to keep an eye out for a third mage, just in case."

"So what do we do now? We've interviewed everyone I can think of. Maybe we should talk to his family."

"I wouldn't count on their cooperation. They made it pretty clear they don't want anyone snooping around. And uhh… Elizabeth, we have to address something here. You were on the verge of dying last night, and this is only going to get more dangerous. I talked to Joshua, and we agreed that maybe bringing you along isn't such a good idea after all. "

Elizabeth quickly turned around, but the strain jolted her back with a sharp pain. Father Matthews then said:

"Try not to move. I could end up damaging more than I'm healing."

"Ahh, sorry" said Elizabeth. "But Al-"

"This isn't debatable. Look, I know you want to get to the bottom of this. I promise we'll give you every single detail when we solve it. That way, you'll be able to write your article. It's just that…" Al took a deep breath. "...we can't work on this case and protect you at the same time."

Elizabeth gripped her fist until it shook. Blood rushed to her face and made her flush in anger. Or was it disappointment? A touch of sadness, too. Whatever cocktail of emotions she had right now, she felt them very strongly. Was she really giving up on this story? What happened last night was terrifying. She had never been so scared in her life, and the memories still made her feel nervous. Still, she couldn't accept this as the limits of her dedication. Journalism is a tough field that always puts reporters at risk in one way or another. It doesn't matter if the danger comes from an oppressive dictatorship censoring its news outlets or murderous mages using the arcane arts, a great reporter should get used to adversity if they ever expect to reach the truth.

She didn't want to be a reporter, she wanted to be the reporter, and if she walked away now, she felt like she would never reach that level of skill. It would be pathetic if she just let them do the work for her. Yes, she felt scared, and things would probably get worse from here on out, but she needed to get over that if she expected more from herself. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. She wasn't going to quit now. Not after what she went through. That dread and pain would mean nothing if she relegated herself to the sidelines. She was going to prove Frank Greenfield, Joshua, and Al wrong. She did want the truth. She was capable of solving this case. She wasn't as weak as she appeared. Besides, if she ever got injured again, she could just get healed at the church. Things didn't seem that bad when she realized that. Father Matthews finished his work, allowing Elizabeth to face Al and say:

"I'm not quitting. I swear Al, if you guys go on ahead without me, I'll write the biggest smear piece about your office I can muster. Don't screw me here."

"Fine." Al scowled. "Go ahead, make our lives harder. If your conscience can handle doing that to us, you know, for caring about your well being, then do it. I'm sure you'll feel great afterwards, you selfish prick."

"Selfish? You're the jerk telling me what to do! I can handle myself just fine! I don't need you, or anyone, deciding what's best for me. What the fuck do you think I am, a delicate flower? At the end of the day, I chose to investigate this story. It was my decision, and you can't take it away from me. If I end up getting killed, then it's my own damn fault. You'd be an idiot if you felt guilty about what happened to me!"

"Then I'm the biggest fucking idiot on the planet! It's easy for you to say that because you're not the one who has to deal with the consequences. I bet you've never lost anyone close to you! Hell, you're probably thinking that you can just throw caution to the wind, now that you know healing magic exists. Well let me tell you something, there is no spell for resurrecting the dead. If you die before you get healed, you're gone for good. This only worked out because I realized what was going on before you bled out. A few minutes later and you'd be animal food. I honestly can't believe this is the thanks I get for saving your life. You threaten to blackmail us and shout at me. You're a real class act, you know?"

"I…" Elizabeth glanced downwards, lowering her voice. "Al… you're right. I'm sorry I threatened you. I'm not gonna screw you guys over. That was petty of me. You're looking out for me, I understand that. It's just… I feel useless, okay? I thought we were making a lot of progress. I felt excited this could be my big break. Right now I-I'm feeling very torn, because I know you're right, but if I just quit, I'll feel worse than I do now. Please, I can't do this without you guys, and I can be useful to the investigation. I'll be careful, I swear. I'll do whatever you guys ask, just don't ask me to give up now like a wimp."

Al remained quiet after Elizabeth finished. His eyes were widened with shock while she spoke, but his expression lightened after a few seconds of contemplation, like he was carefully analyzing the situation. Elizabeth now realized that Father Matthews was no longer in the room. He probably slipped out when things got intense, but she didn't notice because she was too focused on arguing. Al then sighed and said:

"I get it okay? But you're asking too much from us. I realize that from your perspective, this is insulting. The problem here is that you really don't know what you're getting into. Joshua and I, we've… we've had people die because of our mistakes before. It's something that haunts us every single day. It almost happened again yesterday, and that makes us really uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

"I'm still going to investigate this" said Elizabeth. "You can't stop me. I'm not gonna quit."

"That's on you, then. I won't feel guilty if you get hurt, so don't count on me to bail you out of anything."

Elizabeth crossed her arms and frowned. "I wasn't planning to. Don't worry, I'll figure something out."

"Fine, go get killed. See if I care."

Al stood up and left the room, leaving Elizabeth alone to her thoughts. The lump in her throat wouldn't leave, causing her to smack the bed in anger. It wasn't supposed to end like this. She was in the same position she found herself in before she investigated the story. She was lost, more so than yesterday, since even after learning about magic and the victim, she didn't know what to do now. Yet another roadblock. Just as her anger transformed into self-pity, her phone started to ring. She looked at the table on her left, where the cellphone lied.

Unknown. She didn't recognize the number. Not many people called her, let alone complete strangers, so she considered ignoring it. She then remembered she gave her phone number to Alex Duke, Professor Martin's lab assistant. Elizabeth grinned. Maybe this was another opportunity for her. She grabbed the phone and answered the call, but was surprised to hear a nurse on the other side. Elizabeth's mouth gaped open as a rush of guilt overwhelmed her. Even if it didn't have anything to do with her or the case, she felt like she needed to do something about this. Elizabeth hung up and closed her eyes. Alex Duke had attempted to kill herself last night.