The urge to scratch was almost irresistible.

  Suffering delivered by the infirmary, Rinvar thought. If only he could claw his way through the bandages and rid himself of them. He saw some of the others go through worse, especially the Aurelburg regulars that took the full brunt of the magical force dealt by the unnamed intruder. He could sit up and eat, though with some pain brought by the blows his body had taken during the failed pursuit.

  Did his trusty shotgun fall into the murky water when he was disarmed that time? What kind of cleaning would his weapon have to look forward to once he was ready to retake field work? Perhaps he would be forced to take a break and be sent to Luminberg, back to Elena. She would be worried, no matter how he tried to make light of cracked ribs and bodily bruises.

  He opened the door to be greeted by one of the resident doctors; the scent of disinfectant was still fresh, and every single bed around him was perfectly flat. The sun just climbed its way beyond the hillsides; faint and warm beams passed through the window, with one of them bouncing off a dark green vase to the captain’s right. Rinvar was the first patient to be entertained by the attendants.

  “Captain Rinvar De Melvich, yes?”

  Rinvar nodded; the doctor used an open palm to lead him to the bed to his left.

  “This will be your last day here, records say.” A glimmer was seen on the edges of his spectacles. The doctor put down the clipboard and took out a pair of scissors from his drawer. “How are you feeling?”

  “A lot better than before – that’s for sure.” Rinvar took his shirt off and set it aside. Pointing to his wrappings, he said:

  “These things are becoming itchy.”

  “The good news is I’ll be taking that off you.”

  Rinvar eased his back, allowing the nurse’s implement to slide through the bandages. He felt the cloth give way to the snipping metal blades. White wrappings were lifted out of his frame, letting his skin feel the cold air again. He straightened his back with great care; that area where he was kicked still did not feel right.

  He was handed an apron-like article with straps meant to bind it tightly to his body.

  “You would still have to wear this until you’re fully healed.”

  Rinvar shook his head and grinned. Doctor’s orders. He heard Elena’s voice in his head, compelling him to do the same. Something was wrapped around his body again, though it was less tight than the previous dressing. There would be no bending for the captain until this was through.

  “Come back in a week.” The doctor nodded to the attending nurse, who began cleaning the ward. “You can at least move around, Captain.”

  “You won’t believe how long I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  Rinvar put on a shirt and walked out of the room. He wondered if the itch would go away once only air was in the space between his clothes and skin. His hand was about to reach out to scratch, but his mind had to get in the way.

  Freedom, limited that it was, at last. He passed by a larger ward where many patients lay; those must have been the others put out of action by that magician who broke into the Archives. He almost bumped into a nurse pushing a trolley as he looked at the faces of those inside. Most of the individual wards were closed; those that were open had someone changing sheets or fixing things inside. What’s with the stinging bleach they were using for the floors, he asked himself.

  An operative sporting the reds and blues of his unit spotted Rinvar as he passed by. The captain’s rectangular face and small brown curls were easy to recognize even from a distance. He extended a salute before saying:

  “Captain. The Director wishes to see you in her office.”

  “A new assignment? Right on time.” Rinvar said, “Tell the Director that I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Immediately, Sir.” The soldier gave one last salute before he left.

  He was sure the director wouldn’t mind him not sporting the regulation jacket; only his pants gave the hint he was not part of Aurelburg’s forces. He wasted no time, striding his way out of the ward and back to the hallway. Farin Arinas’ room was two turns from where he stood. He found no issues getting there, since the halls were almost empty during the time of day. A guard stood by the door and took notice of his arrival. The door was opened to him immediately, giving way to Rinvar’s superior.

  Rinvar had little reason to doubt he wouldn’t find Farin in her usual business: sitting, shaking her head, and writing a few lines. He wondered how the director managed to work with the sun behind her; all that light to let her read through the documents at speed. Locks of maize-colored hair were brought to view by the soft wind that came from the window. The director was fortunate enough to have survived that crisis uninjured.

  “Good to see you in better shape, Captain.” The usual Farin: a desk with at least two stacks of paperwork, and a half-empty cup of coffee that had long lost its warmth. “Though I don’t think you’ll be ready for action immediately.”

  “I hate to admit that I took a beating there.” Rinvar made a thin grin before sitting down on the lone recliner inside. “I’d like to spend a few more days off, but you have a new task for me, of course.”

  “I’m not keen on letting you take long breaks from work, even after getting in the same incident that brought us here in the first place. There’s an envelope to your right.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Rinvar stood up, approached the nearby table, and took the documents. He opened the envelope’s contents and scattered them across. Some pictures were taken from somewhere dark; there were no hints or signs of roadwork or any nearby town on them. Rinvar could see scattered strips of light on some of the photographs; they revealed a place that sat deep inside a forest. His eyes looked away from the pictures and moved back to the director.

  “Before we begin these ‘deliberations’, any idea what was stolen in the Chamber of Artifacts?”

  “I have the inventory people check everything there,” Farin answered. “Nothing’s turning up, so far. They said they’re barely halfway done with the report.”

  “That must have been something hidden there for so long, I would guess.” Rinvar opened the envelope, letting some of the photographs slide out in random order. Seeing the trees didn’t require him to guess. “The Antikwald?”

  “The findings are stranger, and I’m not happy about it.” Farin set aside her pen. “First, there’s the Schweiglands monster, and now, a pack of smaller creatures that look just as mean.”

  “Let me read through this report to find that out.”

  “Well, sit through it as long as you want.” Farin waved her hand, stood up, and reached for a pitcher of cold water. She filled a glass and placed it on the table opposite the captain.

  The documents highlighted the incident at the clearing. Ghastly as these monsters were, they wouldn’t be bothering the Empire soon, given how stiff they looked. They reminded him of patchwork creatures in those 25-Mark cinemas: stitched-up props the moviemakers came up with after a drunken haze, but these were more refined, with seams and zippers perfectly hidden, and a lot less funny. Evolution, or perhaps the Creator's moments of insanity, pointed to a streamlined, yet emaciated look, with longer bounds and reach through stretched limbs. The aftermath with no traces of human blood anywhere was miraculous; those claws would have torn anyone unaware to shreds.

  Pictures of a few scattered bullet casings and what looked like something large that plowed through a section of the forest were brought to the captain’s attention. Another picture showed a soldier standing beside a strangely-shaped cavity on the ground.

  “An odd place to have a firefight.” Rinvar put down the photographs and took the writings before returning to Farin’s bed. “I’ll get the small things out of the way. Do we have an idea if the bullets found in the scene matched those from Altrecht?”

  “Now that you mentioned it…” Farin checked her copy of the reports from the Glansheim Domain. “They do look identical, but the one in Altrecht is a little too deformed to be an exact match.”

  “That's sounding a match to me.” Rinvar said, “Looks like steel core. Same size. Bigger than anything we have.”

  “I’d have the experts examine both to be sure.”

  The captain scanned the forest’s scar captured in the photographs. "Do we have a bomb that can make a perfect hole like that?"

  It took time for Farin to answer, but she had to ask the captain to hand over the picture to her to take another look. She gave the image back to Rinvar before saying:

  "I’ve looked into that. Even the military says there is nothing in our arsenal that punches holes through anything this way." The director grabbed a glass from the nearby rack and poured a drink for herself. “It’s too... clean. I don’t know if this is a mysterious new product from the Gray Fox or someone capable of projecting magic.”

  “Has the director been reading?” Rinvar set the photo on the table. “Never figured you’d be into these things.”

  The crater reminded him of those beams of light he saw back in Altrecht. Rinvar couldn’t get it off his head. Monsters capable of magic, or was it the same magician from before? Impossible. There would be one exhausted individual after this display of magical energy. He shot that caster and saw him collapse. That assailant had to be carried out of the chase by his cohort. It couldn’t be him.

  “You’re thinking of that magician from the incident?”

  “I’ve taken him down during the sewer chase.” Rinvar eased his back. “I don’t think even old Demian of Luminberg knew any way to heal quickly from all those pellets.”

  “I doubt that man we encountered could make magic fire that burned this hot.” Farin stood and gazed at the window. “Besides, why would a magician of the Gray Fox be so inclined to take down his master’s own monsters? In case these creatures were his handiwork.”

  “So, we have armed groups deciding to stage gunfights in the middle of the woods - very interesting indeed.”

  “Perhaps our crackdown pushed them out of towns to scramble for holdings in the Antikwald. It made a very good hideaway for our ancestors centuries ago.”

  “They’ll have to forget traveling by any vehicle if that’s the case. The forest overtook the roads that were built through it.”

  “You do have a point, but this fire was set near the Guilenfrau Ruins.” Farin approached the captain and took a photograph of the ruined forest area. “About your other question, yes. I had to ask for help from a kind clergywoman in the Restricted Area.”

  “Did the gas get to your mind so badly?” Rinvar held his breath, stopping himself from laughing. “You’re telling me a sister of the Church is inside the Archives, reading about magic?”

  “The Church has not been so keen in speaking about its views – except when something against the faith is presented, or when it’s trying to influence the Emperor to do something.” Farin nodded. “Now, about that sister. Wonderful girl. The kind a nobleman would both desire and fear for a wife.”

  “If she’s into things you say she is, I’d be terrified the way I am with my wife.” Rinvar said, “How did she get you to read about the magical arts?”

  “The books she presented. Basics of magical theory… I had the printers make me a few copies, only the starting ones. Not planning to apply as a full-fledged student of Luminberg. I should get them next week.”

  “Sister, sister. Speaking of which, I spoke with Lady Agnes at the gathering.” Rinvar took the glass and gulped half of the water. “Do you know how to spot noblewomen in a clergyman’s vestments?”

  “You mean her daughter?”

  “House Schild isn’t generous with details.” It was thoughtful of the director to bring copies of the previous files. A photo of Lady Euphemia was crimped to one of the papers. “A shame she had to enter the clergy…”

  “I’ve spotted something interesting in what that woman was reading.” Farin stopped to look at the image. “She took out a bestiary. One of those tomes from the Old Church.”

  “I’ve heard that some orders are still practicing exorcism, though how they know what evil spirits to look for is anyone’s guess.”

  “About Lady Euphemia’s picture. She resembles Sister Mia, that cleric I was telling you.”

  “The names rhyme too.”

  “Wait. Let me make sense of what just happened, and maybe who helped me at the Archives.”

  It couldn’t be her. That sister said her order used magic for healing. Farin couldn’t recall the other books that the cleric took with her. An old language reserved for the clergy; it was not even used for mass or for other rites. She tried to figure out if the light made those titles less readable, yet her memory kept retrieving the same images. The director squinted; there must be a way to expel what chemicals that swordfighter threw at her during the encounter. A mild headache coursed through her while looking at the black and white image. She shook her head, hoping to feel clearer once the effects of that gas completely wore off.