The morning light filters through the window, rousing me from restless sleep. My eyes are heavy, limbs numb, and I wonder, how long have I been asleep?
The room the Inquisitor provided isn't spacious, and last night, I must have kicked off the clothes they offered, tangled myself in the blankets, and slipped into a deeper, colder slumber. The night was icy.
Since I lost the flame Ikaris gifted me, I've felt nothing but an unforgiving chill. Not even the blankets provided any warmth through the long, cold night.
My coat lies on the dusty floor, just out of reach. I know I should get up and face the Inquisitor, but I can't summon the strength or desire to move.
It doesn't matter how I feel or what I want. Someone has already made that choice for me. So despite my body's condition, I push my legs off the bed, sunlight shrouding my back. I still have my old and disgusting clothes.
As I leap off the bed, I begin to strip, pulling off my blouse and trousers, switching my undergarments with what was gifted to me—soft fabrics over my skin with a better scent than my previous clothes. My new, white blouse is thinner than my old one, fitting more tightly around my chest and reaching the ends of my wrists.
The trousers were midnight-colored. They were loose along my legs, but constricting at my ankles. They gave me long socks to go with my trousers and thick boots.
But all that didn't matter, as the coat was long, covering both my blouse and trousers. Despite it being a thick material, the coat feels more comfortable than any outer garment I've ever worn.
I stand in my new outfit, wondering what Mother would've thought of them. She'd probably disapprove, since it's much too large for me. Despite that, Mother would tell me to keep wearing the coat. I have nothing else. I will grow into it.
My mind wanders to the symbols on the coat. The white piping is nice, but these symbols aren't like the Inquisition's. They're different; they still have the eye, but the symbols seem to have another purpose. Two 'T' stars seem out of place, despite matching the shape in the eyes on the cuffs.
I shake the thought away. I must go meet with the Inquisitor. I make my way across the thin room, putting my hand on the door. The door doesn't open. No matter which way I twist the handle, the knob won't move. Why is it locked?
After a few seconds of messing with the knob, a knock comes from the other side of the door.
"Good morning, Mr. Sear," the familiar voice says through the door. "Are you feeling well?"
"Who is this?" I ask.
"Apologies, I should've begun with an introduction. How rude of me to assume you'd remember my voice. It's Arthur Lyn, from last night."
The Acolyte. Why is he here?
"Yes, I do remember you. May I ask why you are at my door?"
I step back from the door and approach the dresser. The stolen knife from last night's dinner with the Inquisitor rests in one of the drawers. Without hesitation, I swiftly grab it and tuck it into my pocket behind the buttons.
"I'm here to escort you to your meeting with the Inquisitor," Arthur continues.
"Do I really need an escort? Could I meet the Inquisitor on my own? After all, I am his guest. The Inquisitor said so himself."
Arthur lightly chuckles. "Mr. Sear, while the Inquisitor is the acting commanding officer of the region, in the eyes of the men, you are simply another criminal awaiting judgment. So, for your safety and the safety of those manning the garrison, you'll have to be escorted wherever you go. Understood?"
Escorted wherever I go? How inconvenient. That just means Arthur is going to watch my every move. I wanted to find Morgan to see how he's doing. And to find out if he had a plan to escape.
I should've expected that much. The Inquisitor seems to be fond of me. Despite his caring exterior, something deep within me is making me dread our meeting. Yet he gave peace to those children who were grafted into that Somata. Should I trust him? He said he'll protect me. But is that the truth?
"Mr Sear?" Arthur repeats. "Are you still there?"
"Apologies, Arthur. I was finishing dressing up. I do understand my place. If it's your duty to escort me, then I will follow you."
"Wonderful."
The door unlocks as Arthur opens it, letting light from the hallway filter into the room. His eyes inspect my new clothing thoroughly, and for a moment, there's a twitch in his grin. Arthur is wearing what he wore yesterday: a black robe similar to the Inquisitor without any pins on his lapels.
"Shall we?"
I nod, stepping through the frame. Beside the door were two marines standing guard, both of them eyeing me. They, too, seem familiar. Both of them were with me on the cart on our way to the garrison: John's brother and the Lieutenant.
They didn't hide their disdain, they actively glared at me. "Mr. Sear, do you remember the marines who accompanied you on your way here?"
"…I do," I hesitantly respond.
Arthur gestures to John's brother. "This is Private Peter Kurt, and the man beside him is Lieutenant Conner McVey. They will be joining us on your way to your appointed meeting, if that's alright with you, Mr. Seer."
"Of course, it's alright," I lie, tasting the bile as the words escape. "Like you, they are simply acting out on their orders."
Arthur smacks his hands together, clapping once, his smile widening. "Well, with that out of the way, let us make our way. However, the Inquisitor hasn't been feeling well since this morning and has asked me to take you to the galley for breakfast. And then we'll meet soon afterwards."
"I understand, Arthur. Please, lead the way."
How come the Inquisitor isn't well? Should he be above human illnesses, or was I overestimating his Inquisitor abilities?
Either way, my current issues aren't with the Inquisitor. It's with the two marines behind me and Arthur Lyn. Although the Acolyte has done his best to hide it, he wants to gut a Seer whether the Inquisitor permits it or not.