Finding the Steppingman While Nick and Karan hung out at Anemone Alehouse for Nick’s training, Zem and the others applied themselves to gathering information. Nick didn’t think they would be able to learn much more than Ada already had, but Zem’s boastful smile upon his return suggested otherwise. “Remember how Redd said they fixed a leak in the roof? That gave me a thought. No matter how light the Steppingman is, I doubt they could jump onto rooftops and pillars without leaving any damage,” he said. As always, Zem knew an impressive number of people. He used his connections with various hostesses to speak with carpenters and repairmen, and asked them if they’d had to repair any leaks recently. Nick thought himself to be more worldly than most adventurers—he could even hold his own in Manhunt—but he had to admit he wasn’t as skilled as Zem when it came to gathering information. “I think you’re the genius detective of the group,” Nick said. “Me?” Zem responded. “I bet you’re always stumbling onto murder cases to solve,” Bond joked. Zem had brought Nick and Bond along on a trek to see if his conjecture was correct. “I marked the buildings that have suffered roof damage on a map and discovered they occurred most frequently in this area,” he explained. “I guess that makes sense. This is a perfect place for a hideout,” Nick responded. The place Zem brought them to was the entrance to the Garbage Heap, which the Survivors had visited just a few days prior. The graffiti covering the walls made the area look dirty and gaudy at the same time. “You didn’t bring the hotties this time? Lame,” the gatekeeper complained. “I wouldn’t say that to their faces unless you wanna get singed,” Nick responded. They’d elected not to bring Karan and Tiana for this trip into the Garbage Heap. They were only here to investigate rather than to arrest someone, and they thought bringing too many people would only make their task more difficult. After Nick paid him, and was about to pass through the gate, the gatekeeper spoke up. “Oh yeah, don’t get in Father Nargava’s way.” “We know. You told us that last time.” “It’s even more important now. There’s a bad cold goin’ around, and he’s busy treatin’ all the patients.” “Got it,” Nick responded with a dubious nod. They walked through the entrance but didn’t get far before Zem stopped. “What’s wrong, Zem?” “He called it a bad cold, correct?” Zem asked. “Yeah. Does that worry you?” “Do you remember the sanctuary that Nargava said he belonged to?” “Uh… Let me think…” “He said it was the Sanctuary of Lowell,” Bond answered. Nick looked confused. “Wait, why would a Lowell priest perform charity work in a place like this? That’s weird.” “Exactly. It is typically priests from the Sanctuary of Baer that help people in such poverty-stricken areas,” Zem said. Four gods were worshipped in this land: Medora, the god of providence; Baer, the god of harvest; Virginie, the god of equilibrium; and Lowell, the god of encounters. They were said to have transformed eternally barren terrain into bountiful lands capable of supporting life. All four were equal in the people’s eyes and admired for their virtue as they healed and protected those who lived in their lands. Priests were expected to follow their example and have knowledge of medicine and healing no matter which god they served. However, there were key differences between the gods and their values. Medora advocated for the importance of wisdom and study. As such, most sanctuaries dedicated to Medora contained a school for the poor and an orphanage. Zem was from one of those sanctuaries. Baer favored agriculture and livestock farming. Sanctuaries devoted to Baer were knowledgeable about supplying food and were always working to fight famine. It was usually priests under this sect who distributed food in slums. Virginie valued order. Sanctuaries dedicated to Virginie made it their mission to rescue people from danger such as bandits or monsters. Many worshippers of Virginie were knights or soldiers, making it the most militaristic of the four sects. Finally, Lowell governed over meetings between people. Sanctuaries of Lowell mediated peace treaties between warring nations and made sure their contracts and promises were upheld. They played a very important role in the world, but most of what they did was of little concern to ordinary citizens. They also placed importance on encouraging marriage and training midwives, but other sanctuaries did that as well. Essentially, Lowell priests were slightly more upper-class than those belonging to other sects. They spent a lot of time with diplomats and wealthy merchants and had a reputation for being self-important. According to Nargava, he used to be a Lowell priest. “The gatekeeper told us not to bother him, but I am curious as to how he ended up here,” Zem said. “Does it seem weird to you as a former priest?” Nick asked. “Yes, it does. I am hardly one to talk, however,” Zem admitted. “Did anything about him catch your attention when we first met him?” Nick inquired timidly. “Yes, I found him very interesting, mainly in regard to his pragmatism.” “Really? I thought you’d say…” Nick trailed off, not wanting to be rude. “That he reminded me of myself?” Zem muttered, finishing the sentence for him. “You said it, not me.” “Whoops,” Zem said, grinning. “It is unlikely he knows anything about the Steppingman, but aside from the possibility that their hideout could be here, we lack any leads. He probably learns a lot about this place through his work.” “Good point. I doubt there are many other people here who would speak to us, anyway.” “Making it to his clinic will be a challenge.” “Hmm-hmm, no need to worry about that. You can leave the navigation to me,” Bond said, throwing out his chest proudly. Nick almost responded with an annoyed retort, but he held back. The truth was that Bond was every bit as helpful as he boasted to be. “This way.” “This is a narrow alley… Is there anyone hiding within?” Zem asked. “There is,” Bond responded, putting the other two on guard. “Relax. There is someone here, but they are only resting under a blanket.” “Don’t scare us like that,” Nick snapped. “Although…,” Bond began. “Is something wrong?” Zem asked. “Their breathing is shallow. They have a slight fever, and I smell vomit.” Zem’s expression stiffened. “Do you notice any other symptoms?” “It seems like they may puke again.” Zem started forward before Bond finished his sentence. “Hey, Zem!” Nick called out, and Zem responded without looking back. “Try not to touch anything, Nick. And cover your mouth with a handkerchief. It would be best to avoid inhaling anything that could make you sick.” “Okay, but…” Zem covered his mouth with a cloth and continued walking before Nick could finish. He continued until he found a man on the ground farther down the street. He was under a blanket just like Bond said, but “collapsed” would have been a better word to describe him than “resting.” “Wh-who the hell’re you…?” the man muttered. “Show me your eyes,” Zem said, grabbing his head and opening his eyes without waiting for an answer. He was checking to see if they were bloodshot. “I knew it.” “…Is this what I think it is?” Nick asked. “It’s yellow demon fever,” Zem said. The man looked even more surprised than Nick. “Huh… Guess I shoulda expected that. I thought I was feelin’ sluggish. But I ain’t been to any brothels…” “It can be transmitted through sweat, mucus from sneezing, and blood as well.” “Wha…? Blood? I ain’t been in any fights lately, and I ain’t slept with no women, either… Who are you anyway?” The rough-faced man’s speech was slightly slurred, as if his mind was hazy. Zem ignored him and asked more questions. “How long have you felt sluggish? Do your joints hurt?” “Since yesterday… That’s when my joints started hurtin’, too. It’s gotten better today.” “Good. That means you will be fine… But I recommend you find somewhere better to sleep. And find a toilet or a bowl to vomit into,” Zem said as he had the man drink from his flask. “Th-thanks,” the man wheezed. “Why have you not gone to see Nargava?” Zem asked. “’Cause there’s a queue. That old guy’ll see anybody, but if the leader of a clique or someone stronger than you jumps the line, there’s nothin’ you can do.” “I see.” “I was bein’ careful, too… Dammit,” the man cursed. Zem looked troubled. “You were being careful?” “Well, yeah. A lotta people have been gettin’ sick the last couple months. I’ve been too scared to go to a brothel. Not many have died, though. Things have gotten better since Father Nargava started workin’ here.” “That sounds like an outbreak…” “Well, it ain’t a deadly virus, at least. You just gotta get through it.” Zem put a hand to his chin and thought as he listened. “Yes, not many people die from it. But the mortality rate is not zero.” “D-don’t say that. You’re scarin’ me.” “You have nothing to worry about. You’re a little skinny, but you seem strong. I am guessing your fever peaked yesterday as well. Is that right?” The man nodded, surprised. “Yeah…” “But I imagine some have been less fortunate,” Zem said. The man’s expression turned sour. “I don’t wanna talk about that… There’s nothin’ we can do about the kids and old folks.” “How are they faring?” “How do you think? They’re dying. Their bodies are bein’ carried to a public cemetery,” the man spat. Zem knew that it wasn’t a pleasant topic. “Can you tell me more about that?” But he had to ask the man for more details. The Survivors’ ultimate goal was to find the Steppingman, but this was worth looking into as well. It was possible they might be able to learn more information. Where had the abducted children been taken? Were there any traces of the children in the Garbage Heap? Were they alive, or dead? And if they were dead, where were their bodies? “Nick. There is somewhere I would like to go after we speak to Nargava.” “The cemetery, right? That’s fine by me.” Zem and Nick exchanged serious nods. They went to Nargava’s clinic next. It was much cleaner than the Bedchamber and the other floors of the Garbage Heap. There was no graffiti or trash on the floor. Nothing could be done about the grime of the building, but it looked like a proper clinic. “You’re not here as patients, are you?” Nargava greeted them, sounding bored. “Is that a problem?” Zem asked. “This room belongs to no one. I just happen to use as my clinic. You can stay as long as you don’t interfere with my treatment,” Nargava replied, sounding neither cold nor welcoming. He was simply indifferent. “You’re sure doing well for yourself,” Zem muttered while looking around. There was a long line of patients in the room. Most of them were either sitting or lying down helplessly. Some displayed symptoms of yellow demon fever, while others were simply injured. The room had the appearance of a field hospital. “Are you making fun of me?” Nargava grunted. “No, I did not mean it that way…” “I would understand if you did. Just look at this place.” “So this is your clinic… It is much quieter than the Bedchamber.” “Of course it is.” “Do you treat everyone yourself?” “If you can call it that. There’s only so much you can do with magic and medicine.” “Allow me to help. I am capable of healing minor wounds,” Zem offered, rolling up his sleeves. “Zem, what’re you doing?” Nick asked. “It’s okay, Nick.” Zem’s proclamation caused a stir among the patients; they were just as surprised as he was. They had probably never had two doctors before. “I have noticed there is a yellow demon fever outbreak here,” Zem said before chanting a healing spell on an injured patient. The person cheered joyfully as they watched their wound close before their eyes. “Yellow demon fever is a difficult disease to diagnose. I can only tell if the patient’s symptoms are at their peak or if they are recovering. If the disease is incubating or is yet to worsen like with Hale, I can only identify it about sixty percent of the time.” “That makes you much better than most.” “I am not as good as you. Are there any tricks you can share?” “I told you already, the only way to learn is through experience.” “I suppose not, then.” “It wouldn’t be such a difficult disease if you could teach someone to diagnose it.” “I am sure the people here are grateful for your presence.” “Mm-hmm.” “Do you plan to continue treating patients here long-term?” “I’m going to remain until I figure out how to explain my knowledge with words.” “What do you mean?” “I want to be able to report how to cure yellow demon fever, how to discover it before the symptoms worsen, and how to avoid catching it in the first place. I’ve been operating on experience and intuition all this time. My goal is to share the skill I have cultivated so that others can treat the disease as well.” Nargava’s words were full of hope. Yellow demon fever was not always a lethal disease, but an outbreak in a place with many frail and immunocompromised people could wreak havoc. Nargava could save many lives if he achieved that dream. The fatigue shown on his face spoke of the difficulty of his task, however. “I think that is admirable. But why this fixation on yellow demon fever?” Zem asked. “It’s not a pleasant story,” Nargava said. He sighed quietly and continued. “I was a high priest at the Sanctuary of Lowell in the capital.” “A high priest?!” Zem exclaimed. High priest was one step above Zem’s old rank. The sanctuaries belonging to all four sects—Medora, Lowell, Baer, and Virginie—divided their priests into a hierarchy of high priests, mid-level priests, and low-level priests. A high priest in the capital’s Sanctuary of Lowell had the same influence as a high-ranking noble, putting him in a different world from Zem, who was simply a mid-level priest in a small village. “Then why…?” “My daughter died of yellow demon fever.” Zem didn’t say anything. The disease was typically transmitted through sexual activity. This likely meant his daughter was raped. “She was such a bright and gifted girl, but she had a mischievous side that she never grew out of. I was strict with her for that reason… But one day, she ran away from home.” Zem remained silent. He could imagine the tragedy that followed. Nargava noticed his reaction and shook his head. “She was not raped. She simply tried to help an injured person she encountered and touched their blood.” “Oh, I didn’t mean to—” “It’s okay. It’s only natural to jump to that conclusion. People treated her contraction of the disease as a disgrace,” Nargava said. He spoke quietly, but his fists were clenched. Zem could sense the anger within his words. “I spent a fortune trying to avoid a scandal, but my efforts had the opposite effect. I gained a reputation as a father who couldn’t protect his child. The merchants I had spent years accommodating betrayed me, and my fellow priests saw an opportunity to excommunicate me. All that was dear to me is gone. I no longer have any desire to live. But… I have regrets.” He whispered the last few words so quietly that he was barely audible. “So that is why you are treating yellow demon fever,” Zem said. “Well, that is not the only reason,” Nargava responded. “I am impressed. You seem well aware of your own shortcomings.” “I don’t need your flattery.” “I am serious… My own immaturity is what got me excommunicated.” “Did you violate the precepts?” “I did not… Not that you’d believe me.” “Those who break the precepts never tell the truth about what they did.” “Exactly.” Zem smiled wryly before continuing. He kept treating patients as he spoke, and everyone in the room listened to their conversation in silence. “A young girl accused me of sexually assaulting her. The incident might have ended as a simple prank, but my jealous coworkers used the opportunity to brand me as a rapist and a pedophile. They had me imprisoned and eventually excommunicated.” “I see…” “I have been through a lot since then, but long story short, I have chosen to live freely without concern for the precepts. I drink alcohol, and I even enjoy the company of women.” “Wow, nice goin’,” a patient called out. “I can introduce you to a nice girl,” another patient offered. “That will not be necessary. I already have women I am quite fond of,” Zem responded with a cool expression as the patients guffawed. “Don’t you resent that girl?” Nargava asked. “Oh, do you believe me?” “I don’t know. But regardless of how much is true, I doubt you think well of the person who brought about your downfall.” “Yes, I resent her. Every time I see a little girl of similar stature, I feel like my heart is going to be clawed out of my chest. I don’t know what I would do if I ended up face-to-face with her.” “Do you want to punish her?” “Punish her? No, I’m sure she already received her punishment.” “Huh? Was her lie exposed?” “No.” Zem shook his head. “Those who commit a crime and get away with it have to live with that secret for the rest of their lives. I doubt she will ever be happy. The only way for her to remove the stain on her soul and put the past behind her would be to confess and repent. That is what I believe.” “You don’t think those who do wrong can take joy in the fortune they receive from their actions?” “Well… We recently helped arrest a group of three fraudsters. They all had a decadent air about them. They led miserable lives without any hope for the future.” “Maybe they only appeared that way because they were caught.” “I’m not so sure about that. I pitied them even before their arrest. They were cowards who were convinced the only way they could make a living was by cheating other people and breaking the law. They were undeniably frail. The girl who framed me will pay for her faults one day, too.” “That is not a punishment.” “Fate will condemn her if people do not. That sounds like a punishment to me.” The patients hung on Zem’s every word as if what he said applied directly to them. Only Nargava reacted differently. He wore a soft expression. “Then I will rephrase my question. Do you want revenge?” “Revenge, huh?” “Wouldn’t you like to expose her lie, scorn everyone who believed her, and make her suffer twice as much as you have?” Nargava asked, sounding like a grandfather speaking sweetly to his grandson. “Hmm… I have nightmares when I sleep alone. I am seized by the fear that when I wake up, I will once again be imprisoned in solitude. The thought of that girl who made me suffer likely living free and whispering sweet nothings into someone’s ear makes me want to hang myself.” “So you do want revenge?” “No, I am fine as long as I don’t sleep alone. I can avoid that by going to a brothel. One thing I have come to understand after all my suffering is that women make very good company.” A few seconds of startled silence passed before the room exploded with laughter. “D-did he just say that?!” “It took you that long to realize the value of women?! I was chasin’ after girls before I turned ten! Ah-ha-ha!” “He said that so seriously! Ow, my side…” Nargava looked at Zem with bewilderment. Even he, with everything he’d been through in his life, didn’t know what to think of Zem. He cleared his throat as if to put it out of his mind. “Be quiet, everyone. You’ll aggravate your injuries. Anyway, tell me why you’re here. You call yourselves the Survivors, right?” Nargava asked. “Oh, you know us?” Zem responded. “How could I not? You won’t find anyone who doesn’t know that name after you all caught Hale,” Nargava jabbed. Zem gave an awkward smile. “We’re looking for the Steppingman,” Nick said, getting right to the point. “The Steppingman?” Nargava repeated. “They’re a criminal who’s been flying around the city at night and kidnapping children. We think their base might be here in the Garbage Heap. Does that ring any bells?” Nick asked. “I’ve never heard that name. What about you all?” Nargava asked his patients, but they all shook their heads. “The Steppingman is skilled at earth elemental magic and martial arts, and can easily overwhelm most adventurers in a fight. They use magic chains they can manipulate freely. They’re also using a magic item that hides their features, so we don’t know what they look like.” “If you don’t even know what they look like, I don’t know how to help you. There are many here who practice martial arts, including me. Plenty of them surpass me in skill. For all I know, the criminal could be in this room. If you ask me, the amount of knowledge you possess makes you plenty suspicious.”
Chapter 52
18 min read