Celeste wasn't quite sure what to do, but as the receptionist led them through a room where multiple guards in the same tight leather armour, all inscribed with a multitude of runes, stood side by side. They didn't seem to even see the newcomers, barely registering them as they were led by someone they clearly knew. It must not be out of the ordinary that visitors came around, either that or the guards were incredibly well-trained.

  The goddess didn't have much time to examine the guards as they passed through the first space between the inquisitors. Between them was an alcove, which contained two short swords that seemed to drip with blood, while at the other side was some old-looking scroll.

  It didn't take the Knowledge Domain to realise what was going on. This was a trophy room, meant to impress incoming guests, and those items must be artefacts. Small golden plaques had been placed above each alcove, though, as the Goddess of Tinkering, Celeste had an inherent understanding of what these items were.

  The pair of blades had belonged to the Red Ilsher before Ira had taken Orlek's axe. The inquisition must have collected them, and even with enough runes that the magical items had been put into a dormant state, the bloodlust was still obvious from the pair of blades.

  The scroll apparently contained knowledge of some kind of dragon haggis and was titled "How to cook your dragon". Despite being just a simple recipe, Celeste could feel that it was still a magic item, ready to imbue its knowledge onto any mortal who wished to learn from it.

  With five more rows of guards, there were plenty more alcoves with hidden items, though Celeste couldn't help but notice that Jasmine had stopped in front of the second-to-last one. The guards had reacted to her stopping, reaching for some hidden daggers with long, thin blades, clearly meant for piercing armour.

  The Architect of Reality knew that things had gone wrong the moment she saw the tear roll from Jasmine's eye to her cheek. Despite working in accelerated time, Celeste found herself unable to respond as a ring of flames erupted from Jasmine. The room lit up with runes, trying to suppress the magic. Despite being designed for this, Celeste's blessing was too strong, letting The Scribe overwrite any defences that might be in place.

  The fire burned far hotter than Celeste had expected, and had it not been for Riez using her body to knock Celeste to the ground, the goddess would have taken the hit full force.

  The scream of Spif and Spaf echoed through the room as none of them got to dodge the sea of flames. Thanks to her Death Domain, she knew that all around her, people were dying, though she didn't prevent it, reasoning that anyone who survived such an attack would be in agonising pain. There was no sign of the guards or the receptionist, though fine ash was slowly being scattered across the room. The tear on Jasmine's face was gone, though her eyes showed anger and sadness in equal measures. Celeste looked back for Spif and Spaf only to find that they were nowhere to be seen. She could quite make it fit with what she knew about them. They were supposed to be regenerating at the foot of the Tree of Life, which was connected to the root network. Maybe the runes around the compound had prevented the roots from growing here.

  Whatever the case, they had just discarded the option for a peaceful solution, as Jasmine's magic had managed to melt a line of stone across the room. Riez was the first one to get up, after throwing Celeste to the ground, and as she did, she gave the goddess a look of concern.

  "Jasmine..." Celeste wasn't sure what to say as she slowly rose from her position.

  Jasmine didn't answer, but simply stepped into the alcove that she had been looking at and grabbed whatever was inside. Seconds later, she was holding a small skull, and Celeste grimaced. She didn't know who the skull belonged to, but she could make some assumptions based on what had just happened. It was definitely not magical, and it was human.

  "Is that... Eric?" Celeste asked softly, though Jasmine only nodded slowly in response.

  The world seemed to stand still, though when Jasmine finally spoke, her voice was hoarse and bordering on grief. "Ay should have burned 'im. 'e told me dat 'e didn't want anywan to fend his body." She took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself. "I t’ought that if I put up me barriers an’ locked down his grave, nobody’d be able ta find ’im. An’ those that did find ’im wouldn’t be gettin’ inside, not a chance. Ay was a fool, lass. I’d only just gotten me powers, an’ I hadn’t the faintest clue how ta use ’em proper. I figured anyone clever enough ta track down me wards an’ slip past ’em would also be wise enough not ta be messin’ with me or mine. But no... all it takes is an ego big enough ta defile somethin’ as sacred as this."

  Celeste wasn't sure what to say. While she knew that the act of losing someone, especially someone as special as your father figure and mentor was harsh, it was a part of a natural life and part of someone's growth, and yet, she could see the hurt that Jasmine was showing.

  The goddess did her best to try to comfort Jasmine. At least a little. "You did the best with what you had, and he chose to pass on, believing that you were ready."

  “An’ ye truly believe that, now? Goddess of Death? Architect of Pain? Ah, don’t blame ’im for passin’ on, sure I’ve had the same thoughts meself more times than I’d care ta count. But that’d mean cursin’ someone else with it, wouldn’t it? Someone’d have ta shoulder this burden in me stead. So tell me, lass. What are me options? How do I make sure I don’t end up the spit of me father? Go on then, tell me. His bones hold no magic, no special power, an’ still someone took the time ta dig ’em up. Someone went an’ defiled the dead, me own kin, an’ you’re standin’ there not champin’ at the bit ta tear this whole place down?” Tears were rolling down Jasmine's cheeks as she held the skull to her chest. Her voice was raspy and she struggled to be even. And yet the seal had been uncovered, and Jasmine could not hold her true feelings in check.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Me choices are plain enough, so they are. I can spend me time gettin’ ta know someone, findin’ out who they are, what sort o’ soul they’ve got, an’ how they’ll treat power once it’s in their hands... I can bond with ’em, grow close, only ta watch ’em fade away if they’re not worthy. Another friend gone. Another bit o’ me family lost. An’ if they are worthy? Then I go an’ curse ’em with this burden. Someone I’ve helped, someone I’ve guided... forced into a life o’ impossible choices. Made ta watch the world suffer while they stand there, helpless as a stone. Or, I suppose, I could pick someone at random an’ pray they don’t go mad. Pray they don’t twist the power for their own ends. But d’you know what cuts deepest? Knowin’ that even if they did lose their mind an’ took over the whole damn world, you wouldn’t lift a finger till a hundred years had passed. Not even with people dyin’ by the thousands would you step in. You’d sit there in your isolation, watchin’ it all unfold, an’ only then, when the world’s nearly bled dry, would you finally bother ta fix it.” Power was building throughout her body as she let go of the emotional weight that had been crushing her.

  Celeste wasn't sure if she had anything to say. The nature of the setup meant that none of them would ever be able to intervene in time, and yet, she also knew that the AI would likely not simply allow someone like that to rise to power, and even if it did, Jasper could perform a rollback. Yet none of these arguments addressed the emotional scarring that had clearly been forced onto Jasmine.

  Riez, for once in her life, did the clever thing and stayed quiet, despite clearly being annoyed that Spif and Spaf had been killed, she could see now wasn't the time to bring that up.

  Jasmine took a deep breath, seeing that the gods had no answer for her. “Fine then. If you won’t lift a finger, I will. I’ll take it on meself... aye, I’ll make it me life’s work ta tear the whole bloody Inquisition down. Startin' right here.”

  Magic surged from her palm as Jasmine conjured a torrent of magical water that tore the door leading out of the room off its hinges. The scream of people on the other side could easily be heard, and while the room bloomed with a kaleidoscope of colours and lights thanks to the runes, none of them seemed to impact Jasmine's ability to cast magic.

  "Ye took me kin, tore up the dead, an’ spat on all we held sacred." Jasmine's voice was cold, nothing but anger behind her words, as she tore a chunk of rune-covered rock out of the wall and hurled it at some heavily armoured guards that were making their way to reinforce their downed comrades.

  A sea of lightning tore from Jasmine's other palm, as she casually executed the inquisitors, their groans of pain silenced in an instant.

  The Scribe didn't stop, walking through the door where the corpses were scattered all across the floor, and the gods were quick to follow her.

  The conjoining room was a strange mix of leisure room and training area. It was not hard to guess that the intent was to show off what the inquisition could accomplish with the trophy room, followed by showing off their people in what was supposed to look like a more casual setting, while still allowing them to flex their skills. Even in here, the walls were covered with runes, suppressing magic, but some of them were broken and crackling with energy, seemingly from Jasmine's display of power.

  It was, however, the magic that poured from Jasmine that gave Celeste pause. The Scribe was channelling death energy in a way that the goddess had not seen before. Thick purple tendrils of pure magic were spilling from Jasmine's body and connecting to each of the bodies. Slowly, they started to stir, and Celeste reached out to stop this resurrection.

  However, the runes around the runes were still suppressing her, despite Jasmine being unaffected, so Celeste had to spend two points of Energy to stop the necromancy, bringing her down to 5 Energy.

  As the spell failed, Jasmine turned to the goddess, looking her up and down. “You won’t lift a hand ta stop evil... Yet the moment I try ta rid the world of it, you bar me pat'.”

  Celeste shook her head slowly, wanting to convey her point. "I am not, but there are other ways of doing this. There are other ways of winning this war."

  “This isn’t a war. It’s vengeance, plain an' tru'. An’ they’ll suffer, every last one of ’em, the very same way me own kin suffered. Death’s too kind for the likes o’ them. I’ll see ’em feel me wrath long after they’ve been dragged screamin’ through the whirlpool o’ souls itself. Don’t ye dare try an’ tell me otherwise. They meant ta do the same, an’ ye know it well as I do. There’s no other reason for keepin’ me father’s skull propped up on display like some cursed trophy. Not unless it was ta show they could haul him back. Ta prove they could resurrect him like he was nothin’ but a puppet on their strings. So don’t lie ta me an' tell me I am wrong.” Darkness was slowly spreading around Jasmine, as her anger boiled over, and for a moment, Celeste honestly thought that she might be the target of the Scribe's next spell.

  "If you cross this line, what do you expect to be the inquisition's response?" Celeste said, not willing to back down from the confrontation.

  Jasmine's eyes were full of fire as magic coiled around her hand. “Ye think I’m the one crossin’ the line, is it? Take a good look about ye, lass. The world’s drownin’ in lines already trampled flat. Taboos shattered left an’ right. The Inquisition’s draggin’ souls back from the grave every other day, squeezin’ ’em dry for one last scrap o’ knowledge. So I'll tell ya what ay reckon they’ll do when ay start playin’ by their own cursed rules. I expect ’em ta die. I expect ’em ta writhe an’ scream like an anthill split open under a pourin’ of boilin’ water. Ay expect the tantrums, the outrage, the hunt they’ll surely mount against me... an’ I’ll welcome it with open arms. Let ’em come. I’ll see to it that every last agent feels it. I’ll make certain that swearin’ allegiance to the Inquisition might as well be signin’ their own death warrant. So there’s only one question ye’ve left to ask yerself, lass... Will ay be havin’ to go through you as well?”

  There was nothing that Celeste could say to stop what Jasmine had started. Though the goddess wasn't willing to fight Jasmine, the Scribe's actions were being guided by how hurt and fed up she was with the world around her. Taking a deep breath, Celeste nodded. "Fine. We will end things here, but you will not be a part of this."

  Jasmine's face went through a series of expressions. From relieved, to confused, to angry, to resolute. "Try and stop me."

  The beam of dark energy that shot from the palm of her hand was meant to kill, there was no doubt about that, and yet, Celeste pushed divine Energy from her core and into a single miracle. The world itself seemed to shake for but a moment before astral chains wrapped around every part of Jasmine, and even her spell, and then she vanished.

  Riez gasped, looking at Celeste. "What did you do to her?"

  Celeste shrugged a little. "I gave her a time-out. Locked her away in time, in our own little pocket dimension... did you know that we had that? I mean, all the other gods have their own spheres, but the game sort of created one for Armandos, too... we just haven't used it. So I froze her in time there... the downside is that if I die, the world will go a hundred years without a scribe... and I do not have any more divine Energy left... so, you will have to clear out this dungeon." She clapped Riez on the back as she headed towards the next door.