'Ink On His Hands' Part 2: The Merchant

A few days had passed since guards had pulled the dockworker's body from the bay. Torzek felt as if he hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was the ink bleeding from the parchment, the body on the dock screaming, and the look of horror on Shael's face.

Shael had left the temple the next morning, giving a vague excuse for why she had to go. 'Following up on a lead from another Caeles,' she had said. He'd offered for her to take the paper, but she'd refused vehemently.

So, Torzek kept the paper in a box in his office. Nothing else had happened with it and the ink had dried, but it was still unnerving. A large part of him wanted to burn it, but he'd decided against it. Something in him felt it would be the wrong choice to burn the parchment.

The sun had just broken over the horizon when a pounding on the temple doors shook Torzek from his early morning routine of getting ready for worshippers and mourners to start visiting the temple.

The knock sounded again and he almost dropped the candles he was setting out in his haste to get to the door.

He opened the temple doors to see a distraught-looking guard.

"I was told to come get you immediately," the man said.

"What's going on?" His stomach sank as he remembered the parchment in his office. 'Couldn't be another one, could it?'

"There's been a murder outside the merchant's guild." The guard paused for a moment, then said, "It's pretty gruesome. I've never seen anything like it, and I was there for that body on the dock the other day."

Torzek didn't respond, his mind filled with images, trying to imagine what could be worse than what they'd found on that dock.

He left a quick for Ruven, who should've been arriving at the temple at any moment, telling the boy to get the cart ready and meet him at the merchant guild.

"Let's go," Torzek said.

The guard, who introduced himself as Cedric, nodded, and quickly the two made their way out of the temple district and over to the merchant quarter.

The pair made their way to the main guild hall as quickly as possible, weaving through the narrow streets packed with stalls and draped with colorful clothes and dried spices.

Torzek caught sight of the body and stopped short. There, right in front of the guild hall, was the body of a man impaled on a stake.

The sharpened pole had been stuck into his back and emerged from his chest, lifting him into the air.

The man was covered in blood as though he had been beaten savagely before his impalement. The pole was slick with blood that pooled in the dirt below the body.

Soldiers from the palace had already arrived and were blocking off the entrances to the area.

The priest moved to get a closer look. Even though it was early morning, it was strange how anyone had managed to set this up without anyone noticing. The amount of blood spoke to a violent struggle.

A dark grey wisp of a soul floated by Torzek's head and he cringed, knowing what was coming next.

The wisp floated into the body and, after a second, the body started to jerk with sharp, jolting movements.

A wheezing scream ripped from the man's mouth before he seemed to choke on more blood and started to cough, blood dripping out of his mouth.

Torzek flung himself backward just in time as the spasming body dislodged the pole from the ground and fell, landing right where he'd been standing.

The moment the body hit the ground, it stopped moving and the soul appeared again. It sat, perfectly still, beside the body, the only movement a slight shiver that distorted the edges of the wisp.

Torzek moved toward the soul, ignoring the soldiers and guards milling around, calling out to each other in panic at what they'd just witnessed.

He reached the soul and it started to shiver more.

"You need to pass on," he whispered. "I can help."

The wisp quivered and seemed like it was trying to move toward him but stayed put.

"Torzek!" Ruven's voice called.

He turned to see the boy running toward him and a familiar woman following behind.

"Ruven," he greeted before he focused on his daughter standing there, staring in horror at the body.

"Aira, you shouldn't see this," he said.

She pursed her lips in a frown so reminiscent of her mother it unnerved Torzek. "I had to see for myself. When I saw the cart, I knew you'd be here." She moved closer to the body. "They told me he was dead, but I hadn't believed it."

"What do you mean?" Torzek asked.

"I worked for him. This is Launus Oudant. Can't say I'm surprised someone finally killed him."

Torzek ushered her away from a few of the guards who'd been listening intently. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing really. He wasn't a particularly nice man, had a lot of enemies." She looked around before dropping her voice. "The only reason I'm working for him was to figure out what he was doing. We think he was participating in something illegal, although we've never been able to prove any of it. And now we won't get to." She gave a frustrated huff.

Torzek nodded and tried to ignore the knowledge his daughter had been investigating this potentially dangerous man; he'd long ago resigned himself to the fact they were little more than acquaintances.

"Do you have any guesses as to what he was working on that may have gotten him killed?"

She shook her head, moving her hair slightly and Torzek could see the small, burned numbers on the side of her neck, proof she was out of his reach. "Does it matter to you?"

"I think the same person was responsible for another murder a few days ago."

Her face softened a bit. "I'll look into it and let you know what I find."

"Be careful."

"You too."

~~

Torzek moved through the temple. He needed to focus. He needed to figure out what connected the dockworker and the merchant. Whatever the merchant had been up to that Aira was investigating might be related.

He passed his bedroom, heading toward the back of the temple. He needed to go to the mortuary and examine the body.

He stopped. His bedroom door was slightly open, just a crack. He was sure he'd closed it firmly before he'd left that morning.

Heart in his throat, he reached out and pushed the door open. It creaked as it swung inwards.

The room was empty and nothing was out of place upon first glance.

He moved further into the room and felt his body go cold.

A piece of parchment had been laid upon his pillow.

Reaching out, he picked it up and took in the inked drawing that depicted the body flailing and falling to the ground with him in the dirt beside it. The detail in the scene was so chillingly accurate Torzek almost expected it to begin to move.

He felt something wet on his fingers and turned the paper over to see words, reminiscent of the last time, bleeding from the parchment:

THE BLOOD OF ONE WHO PROFITS WHILE DAMNING OTHERS