(Part Two of Con’s Tale)

And he did. He joined the Inquisition hoping it would give him a chance to change things. Though Bezreddyn begged him to stay, he left. He went far away from the horrors that stalked the streets and alleys of Yndarr. He went to Valthrid, where the Inquisition called home.

There, the streets were quiet. They almost seemed empty, devoid of activity. Sure, every once in a while, you’d see a Seeker or an Inquisitor, but no civilians seemed to venture forth. There were no merchants. No slavers, no peddlers. No travelers.

Just an occasional, black-clad, member of the Inquisition. How did they eat? What did they do in their spare time? Where did they buy their clothing?

These questions, and many more, flashed through his young mind. They were questions whose answers he’d wish he’d never learned. But his curiosity would have to be satisfied, And so, on to Golmagug’s tower he went. To his fate, he stumbled on, blindly…

The first year Seekers did not wear black. Their cloaks were of a coarse, brown material that reminded Con of the camel-hair mantles worn by the hermits that inhabited the mountain wastes on the Renge’s northern borders. Often ill-fitting, they were scratchy and uncomfortable. But he was willing to bear with it.

First-yearlings were deemed apprenticed adepts. They were taught much of the basic magicks. As their year progressed, their lessons got harder. As a result, they were expected to go out into the four lands to “hunt.” These hunts were for “heretics.” Often, the victims were innocent of all charges. But that didn’t matter. The Inquisition needed slaves.

Why was never explained. Nor did it occur to Con, at first, to ask why. But, as he grew in strength, he began to  wonder. And he began to watch. What he observed caused more questions. The more questions he had, the more he began to doubt the rightness of his decision.

He watched as the condemned were separated into three groups. Men, Women, and children…these were the groupings. The men were sent straight to the mines; the women to the breeding pens. Where the children were sent was anyone’s guess. All Con knew was that what he was witnessing made him sick. This was worse than Yndarr.

Then, after one of his hunts, just as he was about to become a second year Seeker, he decided to follow a procession of children to their destination. Keeping his distance, he tailed them to the Valthud-a hall some distance from the judgement place. Remaining outside, he chose a window to peer through as they were herded inside. What he saw both horrified and sickened him…

From that point on, he resolved to learn whatever else he could. Afterward, he would rebel. Nothing that evil should be allowed to exist. He now knew what he’d been serving. He knew where the black cloaks of the third year Seekers came from. He knew they weren’t even cloaks at all.

Then, something inside Con made him rebel before he was ready. He removed his Seeker’s cloak and threw it down. Suddenly, from every corner of the city, Seekers began to surround him. His next few hours were spent battling those he’d once thought of as brothers. It was the most draining expanse of time. But, when it was over, many lay dead. Many more lay badly wounded, and Golmagug had been alerted.

Wounded, Con fled into the darkness of the approaching night. In his mind, he heard Golmagug’s spell being cast. The Master of the Inquisition had cursed him. But he didn’t care. He wouldn’t live long if he didn’t find sanctuary….