Chapter 765: The Nature of Grief
Jesse turned toward the sunset, hands clasped behind her back. Her lips rose in a small, musing smile.
"Roseburn, huh? It’s a start. If we ever make it to the Southern Continent, I’ll have to pay their estate a visit."
"Wait," I said, looking up. She raised an eyebrow, and I quickly looked away.
"Are you...a...an inquisitor?"
She blinked, absently touching her hair. "I’m an apostle."
"But I...sorry."
"Don’t worry about things like that, it won’t get you anywhere. All you need to know is that I’m currently looking for some people, and you gave me a few tips. I’ll remember that."
Without another glance, she melted into shadow, disappearing from view. I was still against Fable, panting lightly, staring at the scroll on the ground, left where she’d been standing. It took me almost five minutes to realize she never shared what she knew about the state of the Divine Realms.
After a few more minutes of silence, I tentatively took it, holding it up to the starlight with a trembling hand. The words were cracked and faded, the parchment brittle. I read silently, mouthing the words.
Esteemed King of Brithlite, and Lord of the Circle. I apologize for the late reply. It took some preparation to secure the records. The inquisitors had them under file, at the Pope’s orders. The following is what I was able to find.
The slave in question was acquired on the Fasstine Road, in transit to the primary facility. The employee in question noted a flash of golden light and a powerful magic circle. The slave then appeared, clothed in a fine gown of unknown fabric and a spatial ring. She was seized while still unconscious, stripped of all possessions, and caged. She was awake a week later when she was transferred to the facility where she was held.