“Miss Jeroinin,” Priscilla said bluntly when she was within comfortable talking distance, “I believe you promised me a conversation.”

  Yarnon’s eyebrows raised in a wistful motion as Jeroinin turned her attention fully to Priscilla. Yarnon murmured a goodbye and nodded at Priscilla with a rugged smile, before ambling off.

  “Do you wish to eat before we speak?” Jeroinin asked, smoothing down her wrinkled dress. Priscilla idly noticed it was the same one the half-elf had been wearing last night, a pretty dark green and blue dress with long, flowing sleeves.

  “Food is nice and all,” Priscilla said, “but I find that I’m far hungrier for answers.”

  Jeroinin’s lips quirked. “I suppose I should have known that. Come, let us gather breakfast, and retire to the shrine – we shouldn’t be disturbed there.”

  Priscilla followed faithfully as Jeroinin gathered a fresh pair of cinnamon sticky buns and then led the way across a wooden bridge, the sound of their footsteps hidden by the babbling brook. They left the town behind them to follow the river as it went deeper into the forest and entered the serenity of a patch of nature unblemished by humanity’s touch.

  A riot of colorful flowers that grew near the base of a large weeping willow tree that dominated the view. The willow’s slender leaves swayed in the breeze and a gentle floral scent filled the air as the pair came to a stop in front of it.

  Jeroinin stared up at the tree with fondness.

  “Gaelea is not a demanding goddess,” Jeroinin said softly, just barely audible over the rustling leaves, “and all one needs to worship Her is a tree that has been tenderly cared for.”

  Though Priscilla wanted to get on with it, she kept that pesky tongue of hers on lockdown and just appreciated the scene before her. Jeroinin would get to the point eventually and Priscilla didn’t want to start the conversation by disregarding the other woman’s obvious strong faith.

  “I had planted this tree myself fifty years ago,” Jeroinin said, “when I first found this refuge.”

  Priscilla couldn’t quite keep the shock off her face. Intellectually she knew that half-elves obviously would age slower than a normal human, but Jeroinin barely looked forty.

  Jeroinin caught the expression and smiled.

  “Come sit with me beneath the willow,” Jeroinin said, reaching out a hand. Priscilla took it without hesitation, the willow’s leaves brushing over her shoulders.

  The grass beneath the willow was cool and still wet with morning dew as Priscilla knelt down before the massive trunk. Jeroinin was quiet as she passed Priscilla a sticky bun, and then bowed her head. Jeroinin’s lips moved in silent prayer before she took a bite.

  Priscilla took a bite of her own and chewed it slowly. It was tasty, sweet but not too sweet that it made her teeth ache, and it was delightfully gooey in the center. Allasan wasn’t kidding when she said her baked goods were some of the best Priscilla would ever taste.

  “How’d you end up settling here?” Priscilla asked once she had finished, voice hushed because with her surroundings, speaking loudly felt blasphemous.

  “I was on the run,” Jeroinin said, her blue eyes gaining a faraway look. Bitterness creeped into Jeroinin’s voice, the type that was old and bone-deep and would follow you to the grave, even if you could set it aside in your daily life.

  “My mother had tried her best, but my father’s people never forgave us for the crime of dirtying his bloodline and sullying his logical mind with love. They cast us out when he died, and my mother’s heart couldn’t handle the strain of losing her husband and home in rapid succession, leaving me alone. I had little more than the clothes on my back, my name, and my faith.

  “But a half-breed in the wider world was liked just as well as one in an elvish community, and once they discovered I was weak and had no protection, I was forced into slavery.”

  Priscilla’s breath caught in her throat at the unexpected revelation, wondering if she even had the right to say anything in response. It was one thing to know slavery existed in this world, but it was another to come face to face with someone who had suffered through it.

  Jeroinin’s gaze drifted to the willow tree’s branches as she continued.

  “Though it shames me to admit, I didn’t even try to resist my owners as my spirit had been bent and broken. I had convinced myself that my life was not as bad as it could be, as my duties were mainly that of cleaning or of pleasure, and that I didn’t need to do anything unnecessary as it would only bring avoidable pain. But then I was sold to a new master who could only find happiness through violence. He thought I had beautiful eyes, so beautiful he simply had to see the light dim from them as I died.

  “It was only when I faced down death that I found the courage to fight back. I prayed to Gaelea and She gave me the strength to strike him down and flee that wretched household. Once I began running, I didn’t stop, even when I had left civilization behind. It was through Gaelea’s grace that I found this refuge and I have done my best to repay Her kindness ever since.”

  Priscilla swallowed roughly, unsure of what to say or do after such a story.

  “Ah, I’m sorry,” Jeroinin said, setting aside the memories to look at Priscilla with a gentle smile. “You wanted answers and here I am babbling about myself.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  The words left Priscilla’s lips unbidden, sudden anger rising up in her. Anger at Jeroinin’s supposed family, anger at the world for letting the dirty practice of slavery thrive, anger at the people who treated Jeroinin like an object to be used and discarded as they pleased. But Priscilla pushed away that anger as there was no use for it. The people who had hurt Jeroinin weren’t here and Priscilla made herself happier by imagining them dying ignoble deaths like slipping in the bathtub and drowning.

  “I’m… well, I’m not happy about what happened to you,” Priscilla said after taking a deep breath, wishing she was better with words, “but I am happy that you survived and I’m… honored you shared your story with me.”

  Jeroinin tilted her head, her gaze softening as she looked at Priscilla.

  “It is an old wound now,” Jeroinin said, “and my heart has healed from the indignities I suffered.”

  Priscilla eyed the half-elf but felt like those words were the truth.

  “If you don’t mind the sudden topic change,” Priscilla began, “there’s someone I wanted to–”

  “Hello! I am also glad you survived!” Asha piped up, sensing what Priscilla was about to say and jumping the gun.

  “Hello there,” Jeroinin said, looking down at the glove on Priscilla’s hand curiously.

  “This is Asha, my partner in crime,” Priscilla said, wiggling her fingers at Jeroinin. “Asha can change forms at will, so I usually have it on my person as a glove.”

  “We are the very best at punching lunatics!” Asha said, eagerness rolling off it.

  Jeroinin blinked and then laughed, “It is very nice to meet you, Asha.”

  “So, now that we have introductions out of the way,” Priscilla said, leaning forward, “I really can’t wait any more – how’d you know about Asha? And what exactly do you know about me?”

  Jeroinin gave Asha one more lingering look before meeting Priscilla’s gaze.

  “Gaelea has given me many gifts during my years of service,” Jeroinin began, “including a limited ability to sense the nature of one’s soul.”

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  Priscilla stiffened but Jeroinin wasn’t done.

  “I can’t see specifics, but generally, I can get an understanding of what type of person they have been,” Jeroinin said.

  “So that’s how you know I’m not…” Priscilla swallowed, feeling the blood rise in her throat.

  Jeroinin’s gaze was serious and heavy, but not judgmental.

  “What I see when I look at you,” Jeroinin said, “is a soul that is out of sync with your body. Normally, this would mean demonic or astral possession but in those cases, I can still sense the original body’s soul being muffled by the possessor.

  “However, with you, Priscilla, I sense no such thing. Your soul is the only one that inhabits that body.”

  That… that sounded like good news, but now Priscilla just had more questions.

  “Can you tell where the original soul went?” Priscilla asked but Jeroinin was already shaking her head before Priscilla finished.

  “That’s beyond my power.”

  Priscilla mulled that over in her mind and the implications that came with it. She probably didn’t have to fear the original taking back control if the original’s soul wasn’t even in this body. But Priscilla would have time to ponder that more thoroughly later – right now she had more questions.

  “With this ability, how’d you not figure out Frean was replaced?

  Jeroinin flinched, shame settling on her face. “There is only my own arrogance to blame. Since the shapeshifter’s soul was perfectly aligned with their body and their soul had the same timber as Frean’s, I hadn’t thought to examine them more closely. I had thought our settlement wasn’t important to anyone except Gaelea, so I hadn’t prepared for such an insidious infiltration.”

  Priscilla nodded slowly, tapping her fingers against her thigh.

  “And Asha? How’d you know about my artifact?”

  Jeroinin looked at Asha again and then at Priscilla, blue eyes pensive.

  “What do you know about your artifact?” Jeroinin said, frustratingly dodging the question. But Priscilla pushed away the irritation, telling herself that Jeroinin must have a reason to ask that.

  “Asha is a part of a set of artifacts called legend killers,” Priscilla said, watching Jeroinin carefully. The half-elf’s eyebrows raised but she remained silent, so Priscilla continued. “Before I got a hold of Asha, it was being used as a conduit for an asshole that wanted to brainwash me so I’d help him kill all the gods. And before that, Asha had been trapped somewhere dark for a fucking long time and is missing a good chunk of its memories because of that. Did I miss anything Asha?”

  “Just that you are the best master ever!”

  Priscilla chuckled, but kept her eyes on Jeroinin, who had gone pale.

  “Did you say… someone wants to kill the gods?” Jeroinin said in a choked voice.

  “Yup,” Priscilla said, “and I’ll see how much more I can tell you after you answer my question.”

  It took a moment for Jeroinin to compose herself.

  “The reason I knew of Asha’s existence is that your artifact has a soul, Priscilla, one that looks like it has been shattered and then the fractured pieces were forced back together imperfectly.”

  “What.”

  “What?”

  Priscilla’s confusion mirrored Asha’s as she stared at the glove. Sentient artifacts were artificially created through magic and will, but if Asha had a soul, that meant… honestly, Priscilla didn’t even know what it meant as her mind was still reeling.

  “Does this mean I… wasn’t always a legend killer?” Asha asked, voice shaking.

  “I don’t know,” Jeroinin said, sounding apologetic. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’ve encountered other sentient artifacts before, but none had a soul, especially one that glows as brightly as yours, Asha.”

  Asha was a conflicted storm of emotions, shock, fear, resentment, and loss, and that broke Priscilla out of her stupor.

  “Hey, hey,” Priscilla said, bringing Asha close, “I know this information is fucking crazy and overwhelming, but it’s all going to be alright. We’ll put our heads together and figure out what happened to you, Asha, I swear. We already have finding other legend killers on our agenda, adding this in is no hassle. Plus, once we find your friends, maybe they’ll know more too, and then we’ll have even more brains focused on solving this problem.”

  Priscilla didn’t stop babbling until she felt Asha’s emotions level out. The artifact wasn’t calm, but it didn’t seem on the verge of devastation anymore.

  “Thank you, master,” Asha said quietly.

  “Anything for you, my lovely Asha,” Priscilla said, once again wishing Asha had a body to hug. With a start, Priscilla realized that Asha probably did have a body once and had it ripped away by whoever had made Asha into a legend killer.

  And the only culprit Priscilla could come up with was the damn cult leader who was willing to sacrifice anything to bring his goddess back from the prison she had been trapped in. He thought he could ruin others lives without consequence in the pursuit of power, but Priscilla would prove that karma truly was a bitch and beat his crusty immortal ass.

  “Can you figure out anything from Asha’s soul?” Priscilla asked, hoping to give Asha answers since she couldn’t do anything else at the moment. “Like any hints of who Asha was before this.”

  “The one thing I can sense, even with the cracks, is a strong devotion to the ones the soul cared for.”

  Priscilla looked down at Asha and thought that description was apt.

  “Do you mind speaking about the god killing now?” Jeroinin asked, voice pleasant but insistent.

  Priscilla readjusted her legs into a more comfortable position, leaning her arm casually against her knee.

  “So have you heard of the cult of the vio–”

  Priscilla started coughing, and cursed internally as blood sprayed across Jeroinin’s pretty dress. Everything had been going so well that Priscilla totally forgot that she technically shouldn’t know about the cult’s name. Jeroinin’s blue eyes were wide as she looked down at her blood splattered clothing.

  “Master, I told you to let me do the talking,” Asha scolded.

  “Sorry, I wasn't thinking,” Priscilla said, wiping away the blood on the corner of her mouth.

  “My master has been cursed to know the future,” Asha said in a perfunctory manner, “and should she try to share that knowledge, she is punished. The cult she was attempting to speak of was the Church of Violet Moon, home of my former master.”

  Jeroinin’s fingers brushed against the blood on her skirts before looking at Priscilla with horror.

  “And the cult tried to brainwash you, Priscilla?” Jeroinin whispered.

  “They did,” Asha said angrily. “My memories before master are murky so I can’t remember why, but I know that my former master really wanted my master under his control by any means necessary.”

  Jeroinin glanced at Priscilla, who could only shrug. The original had been one of the cult leader’s favorite pawns to cause chaos for Illnyea’s group, but the reason why she was chosen hadn’t been expanded upon. Priscilla had guessed that the original was so different from most of the cult’s followers it was easy to use her without others getting suspicious.

  “Is it a god or goddess this church worships?”

  “Goddess,” Asha spat, contempt filling its voice.

  Brows drawn together in contemplation, Jeroinin seemed to finally regain her composure.

  “I…” Jeroinin swallowed. “I can only assume that the future you saw ends with the gods’ death.”

  Well, technically she hadn’t since she didn’t actually get to read the final book, but Priscilla knew enough of the cult’s plan that was the goal, so she gave a thumbs up even as her muscles stiffened.

  “When will this happen?” Jeroinin asked.

  Priscilla opened her mouth and promptly shut it when Asha tightened in warning, saying, “Master if you cough up blood one more time, I swear…”

  Asha didn’t finish the threat but Priscilla got the message loud and clear. She shrugged apologetically at Jeroinin, who was pursing her lips but seemed to accept that Priscilla’s lips were sealed.

  “Well,” Jeroinin sighed, “I suppose just knowing that the gods are in danger is warning enough. I won’t ask you to put yourself at more risk to tell me details. I’ll contact a few people I trust to see if they can find out more information about this church and stop their plans.”

  “We’ll need all the help we can get,” Priscilla said. “I do have two more things to talk to you about before I’ll let you free. The first is that I’ll have to leave tomorrow morning because of reasons I can’t tell you but I can assure you are real fucking important.”

  Jeroinin frowned but nodded.

  “And the second is that I asked Kavil to come with me and he agreed.”

  Now that wasn’t something Jeroinin was expecting by the shock on her face. But Priscilla literally bit her lip to not say anything as the half-elf’s face turned contemplative. Jeroinin let out a slow sigh as she smiled wryly.

  “My boy’s off to save the world, huh?” Jeroinin said.

  “I’ll keep him safe,” Priscilla promised and Jeroinin chuckled.

  “That is something I never doubted, Priscilla,” Jeroinin said, standing. She brushed off stray pieces of grass before reaching out a hand to help Priscilla to her feet.

  “Come now, there’s much to do if you want to get on the road and the sooner we get started the better.”