Nerissa left her room only when the sun was already high in the sky. I had left her some meat and cheese for breakfast so I could spend the last hours studying the parchment I hadn't managed to decipher the day before.
She sat down, careful not to let even a ray of sunlight touch her skin. Like all members of her class, she felt a certain aversion to bright light and heat. Fortunately the capital enjoyed a rather cold, cloudy climate, especially in winter.
"Roland?" she asked.
"At the harbour."
She understood without me having to say more. She pointed at the parchment. "Did you figure anything out?"
"Only that it's some kind of curse, or something similar." I was pretty frustrated about it. Not being able to do your one job could reduce you to a pitiful state — I knew that better than anyone — so I changed the subject. "Have you decided which route to take?"
She nodded, speaking with her mouth full. "I thought about it last night. I think we need someone who can infiltrate, since you others aren't good at that sort of thing. I can take another rank in Stealth."
I answered only with a nod of assent. It was the most dangerous job, we both knew that. Not that I could protest, we really needed that. Every adventuring party did.
We talked a little about this and that, counted the money again (most of it we kept hidden under a floorboard in the entryway), and reviewed our equipment. We were missing a lantern, a rope, and a shovel. We estimated the cost would be about 2 gold lira and planned to go shopping in a few days.
We spent a few more hours relaxing without doing anything special; I sat down to read an old parchment I'd found for sale from a street merchant. It was a confused, inconclusive text, full to the brim of imperial intolerance and outdated notions, but nevertheless it contained interesting descriptions of various clandestine organizations founded during the last dynasty, including the saints they revered. The passage I was concentrating on read:
"Although no decent citizen of our great nation would stoop to officiate pagan sacrifices in favour of Saint Khalida, it is nevertheless a fact that the Sect of the Twelve Stars not only performs human sacrifices but receives from the saint blessings that can easily be equated with the miracles of our finest priests. Members of this sect are active mainly near the city of Mainara, and about forty years ago they risked being eradicated by the Imperial Celestial Cavalry, but rumor has it the leader of the organization survived and is still at large. To those who wish to hunt these heretics we remind you not to leave survivors, for even the least of the acolytes can become a formidable danger if possessed by the Daughter of the Moon. Miracles in the domain of sunlight and fire seem to be particularly effective against their priests, while their acolytes do not appear to require special measures beyond good armour and sharp blades."
While I read, Nerissa was consulting her personal information. Knowing her, she was having second thoughts about the choices made the night before. I watched her from the corner of my eye. She sat with her head propped on one hand, not exactly staring at the parchment in her hands — she probably knew it by heart — but instead lost in thought. If I hadn't known I was looking at a twenty-year-old who was particularly lazy, listless and prone to catastrophising, I would have thought she was a vengeful wraith: unhealthy complexion, raven hair, a vacant, absent gaze. In short, I couldn't in good faith say she was cute; more than anything she looked like a freshly unearthed corpse. I immediately regretted the thought, she didn't deserve it. The truth was I knew how beautiful she could be at times when she didn't keep herself at a distance from the world, and in part I felt sorry for her. We'd known each other for about ten years and, since she'd become an adventurer, it seemed to me her health had only worsened day by day.
The class she'd chosen, the Spirit, certainly didn't help. I didn't know much about it, but as I remembered, becoming emotionally distant was one of its prerogatives. It improved resistance to mental effects and granted a greater tolerance for stress, but the risk of losing one's humanity was higher for them than for the rest of us, perhaps with only a single exception. When news circulated of an adventurer who had lost their mind and given themselves to some pagan cult or worse, you could bet they were Spirits a good thirty percent of the time.
On my side I had no idea how to help her except by staying by her as I always had, and I hated myself for that.
Roland returned around two in the afternoon, bringing food and news.
"I found teachers for all of us at the Adventurers' Guild. I negotiated 10 gold lira apiece — it's the best I could get. I sold the swords for 27 lira, but I spent two of them to repair this," and he tapped the armour he was wearing with his index finger.
No one protested. We knew it was a good deal.
"Also, I spoke with Hendriks," Roland continued. "He wants us to track down an apothecary who disappeared two days ago, by the end of the week. He has enough information, but he can't find men to assign to the mission. It shouldn't be anything too dangerous: mostly investigation, avoiding city guard patrols, that sort of thing."
"And do we have to bring this guy back to him after we find him?" Nerissa asked.
He shook his head. "No, we just tell him where he is and, if possible, why he disappeared. The pay is 40 gold lira in total, plus free passage on his ship if we ever need it. I even managed to negotiate a letter of introduction to a smuggler down at the harbour. He sells minor magical items, so we can look for something for Nerissa." I saw her smile, just slightly. "What do you think?"
She and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded. No reason to refuse.