MIRANDA

Miranda lets out a frustrated sigh as the sun looms high above her, inner shirt damp with sweat from the burning heat and she tugs at the collar of her uniform for a breath of air. Diane's skin is untouched by the heat, the air around her chilling with ice magic. And Apollo has his hair waving in the air, his magic keeping the wind swirling around him in a cool breeze. 

"Brother." He turns his head slowly, meeting her gaze with a knowing smile. "Do you mind?" A sheepish smile escapes her, he rolls his eyes but she shifts to ride beside him, his eyes shimmers in soft green glow and a cool breeze eases the sweat from her skin, not enough to banish the heat, but enough to make it bearable. 

"A bit of sweat is actually good for you." Minerva murmurs without turning, face glistening with sweat but her posture is unwavering. 

The fishing village is far larger than she expects but there are no sound—no laughter, no voices, no children playing. It feels abandoned, as though the inhabitants simply vanished overnight. "Eyes wide open, these outskirts are full of heretics." Diane's eyes shimmers in a faint, icy glow. 

Miranda's gaze dart from one corner to the next, searching for something, anything. Diane sees evil everywhere and yet, a Magister was killed here, they should tread carefully. Her heart slowly begins to beat faster, she turns to  voices rising and falling, a mixt of mutterings and yells. The whole village is gathering before a large tree at the end, "Everyone calm down!" a man shouts at the crowd from atop an elevated platform, behind him lies a couple kneeling with a noose around their necks.

The man's eyes wide in shock at the sight of their approach, or is it fear? "Our honored guests arrive!" he announces, and the crowd snaps their attention towards them, he sprints down the platform and pushes his way through the crowd before placing a trembling hand over his heart. "Lords and ladies, I am the Chief of this humble fishing village." He bows his head deep. "I give you the criminals responsible for the murder of our esteemed state Magister."

"Take me to the scene of the murder." Diane commands, paying no heed to the captured couple.

The Chief hesitates. His lips part, then close. His eyes dart around them uncertainly, "Right this way. Right this way." They follow him through the village, Miranda's gaze flickers to the closed doors of nearby huts for sign of ambush. "Here it is..." Her eyes scans the surrounding windows for any signs of movement but the place is empty.

"Those two weren't Godlikes." Diane notes, and the Chief places a hand behind his neck as he turns to look at the hut, before its open door is a charred remains of someone. "Where is the baby?" The Chief turns his face away, refusing to meet Diane's gaze.

"We killed her." Her stomach turns as he forces the words out in a whisper, "We didn't know if she was a Godlike, we had no choice." His voice trembles with guilt, or is it fear? He wraps his arms around him, "The magic already corrupted her I swear, we couldn't risk a demon in our midst!" He clutches tightly at his arms. A demon? This is exactly what is wrong with the Chantry.

"And the demon? The one who did this." Diane points to the charred corpse.

"There was no sign of him." He hangs his head low in defeat, Diane turns her horse around and gallops back towards the execution site. The crowd paves a way for her, the couple's faces are bloodied and bruised, their rags tearing but most importantly their eyes are hollowed. No parent deserves to see their newborn lynched by a mob. Everything is just wrong here...this village, and everyone in it.

"The demon, tell me where he was from, where is he going?" The couple merely stares blankly at the space before them, deaf to Diane's words. Miranda's heart skips a beat, knowing all too well what comes next. Diane swipes her hand up and a shard of ice erupts from the ground, the man shrieks in pain as its sharp edge pierces through his shoulder. "Tell me." He glares in defiance but no words escape his lips, quite the courage for a human.

 Diane motions her hands, a crescent ice forms before her, its edges glinting like polished steel. With a flick of her hand the ice slices through the air and a howl of pain pierces through her ear. A grimace escapes Miranda and she turns away from the sight, the ice had cut the woman's arm cleanly off her shoulder. "You bastard!" The man curses. "The Maker will punish you for this!" Her hands clenches into fists, gripping tightly at the reins of her horse, it was too much but she dare not raise a protest.

"I am the Maker's will." Diane asserts, Miranda places a hand to her now tight chest, bile rising through her throat but she pushes it back down. "You will tell me, or die." Her jaw tightens, lips twitching to protest. They don't deserve to be treated this way, and yet there is nothing she could do. It is blasphemy to speak against this.

"I don't know!" The man screams.

Her eyes wide in shock, shivers all over her as ice slices through the air, the crowd gasps in horror and she shuts her eyes tight...heart racing as she places a hand over her chest. "Why?" Her voice cracks as a shed of tears escape her eyes, hand gripping tightly at the fabric of her uniform. "Why did you kill them?" She takes deep breaths before opening her eyes to meet Diane's stare, body trembling as she realizes the words that escaped her lips.

"The Chantry dictates-"

"You murdered them!" Magic erupts within her, threatening to escape, she is getting tired of hearing it. Her breath rags as she inhales deeper, exhaling longer. Diane's eyes shimmers with icy glow, with a flick of her hand a shard of ice slices through the air and pierces through a man standing among the crowd. 

Her lips part in disbelief, Everyone drops into the ground, pressing their heads against the dirt in a bow as the man's lifeless corpse thuds against the ground. "That...is murder." Sweat breaking out all over her skin from Diane's stare, she could feel them freezing up into frost as Diane's eyes shimmers with icy glow, threatening to freeze her. "I was merely executing sinners, you let your emotions cloud your judgment. I should educate you."

Her jaw tightens, frost spreading across her body and her heart thumps ferociously against her chest. Her magic focuses into the palm of her hands but fighting back would brand her a heretic, or worse, an apostate. "They harbored a demon, that is a great sin, how can you see them as innocents?" Minerva grips Miranda by the shoulder, and Miranda glances at Apollo who stares silently.

This is all wrong, and she is part of it. She opens her mouth but her voice remains stuck in her throat, eyes wide as the air around her disappears, hand snapping to her throat as suffocation sets in. Her throat tightens, lungs grasping for something that isn't there. "She is clearly tired from the long trip, we should rest." Apollo gives her a warning stare as he speak, threatening to kill her if she does not relent. "The heat must have gotten to her." 

Miranda gasps for breath as the air returns around her, "I expect lodging is prepared for us?" Minerva turns to the Village chief who is panting as he arrives, dropping immediately into the ground and pressing his head into the dirt in a bow.

"Most certainly." His voice trembling.

"Get up and lead us to our lodging." He rises to his feet at Minerva's command, ushering them away. Minerva grabs the reins of Miranda's horse and drags her away, "What are you doing?" She presses her voice in a whisper. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Miranda glances at Apollo who is now talking to Diane, would he have killed her had she been stubborn? It was not a risk she was willing to take. Apollo and Minerva are not her true siblings after all, it is only her wishful thinking, they are nothing more but servants of the Chantry. Whatever the Chantry dictates, whatever Diane decides, that is what they would do without questions.