The Case of the Shaggy Half-Cu

The only ones between order and chaos in Gipine are the Inquisitors. Sure, the Purists run around and slay their little monsters, but we deal with the mess of corrupted humanity. I've been an Inquisitor for the Hallowed City since I was a twelve-year-old boy. I had an “above average” aptitude for alertness, which is why I was placed in the Order.

I hate when people say, “It’s hard to believe it’s been x amount of time”. It’s been twenty years on the job and the aches and pain sure are believable. I’m a Lieutenant Inquisitor now, but the money and status isn’t worth it. I think the only satisfaction I get is from helping people, but there was one time even that didn’t cut it.

There’s a small town to the south of the Hallowed City that is threatening to fall off its cliff into the Resplendent Ocean. The head of our Order, the Angel of Inquisitors, got word of a Clash-Heart in the town that was getting rowdy. She ordered me to the Tower of Angels to take the perp into custody.

Walking through the halls to the Court of Angels was like being drunk in a kaleidoscopic dream. It took me a half-hour to find the place despite having been there before.

When I was in front of her, I saw the other six Angels of the Godking. I wasn’t in the habit of staring at them because they seemed so ethereal…fake even. That wasn't the case with the Angel of Inquisitors, but that could've been because I knew her personally.

The Angel was only a decade older or so but had maintained her youth, minus some crow’s feet and wrinkles around her mouth from frowning or forcing too many smiles. Her matriarchal honey-brown gaze soaked into my heart and I knew I couldn’t let myself fail.

“Lieutenant Inquisitor Gideon,” she chimed to greet me. “Are you ready for your first assignment on your own?”

Usually, Inquisitors didn’t leave the Hallowed City because the Purists and Defenders saw to order in the rest of Gipine. They weren’t detectives though, which meant that we were called upon when there was a real mystery.

Only those above the rank of Sergeant Informant were allowed to go outside on a job, and it wasn't until Lieutenant Inquisitor that you were allowed to go without a partner. It was freeing to be let out alone, honestly.

“Yes, your Eminence,” I replied without hesitation. “I’m ready to serve justice and bring the offender before the Godking, no matter the cost.”

“Then you have been briefed?”

“There have been a number of incidents in Elkaria Village,” I started as I recalled the file. “It started with harmless thievery. Food, clothes, things like that. Recently, there have been several aurochs mutilations. The residents are requesting the city’s aid to put a stop to this injustice.”

“Good,” she said with a clap. “I trust you know the way? I want regular updates from the Informants. I’m counting on you.”

I nodded my head and she dismissed me. I left the city and chose to walk to Elkaria. It was a day’s length away by foot but I had never taken to horses.

Every time I left, and it's only been twelve or thirteen times, I was caught off guard by the ground past the wall. It was as if grasses and trees refused to grow within the eyes of the Hallowed City. I walked on black crag for half-a-day until I finally saw green anything growing. The Purists said it was like that in every direction.

Elkaria was home to farmers and ranchers that provided goods to the city. The number of livestock was at least three times as great as people, and they had managed to grow a type of wheat there that couldn't be grown anywhere else. Something to do with the soil, I guess.

That's why it made sense that they'd be so worried about aurochs mutilations. That, and the farmers had children running around. It still could be that it is some abomination, which would be a mess because then the city would have to dispatch a Purist. They weren't the most professional to work with and they cared little for law and order.

In the center of the village, a Sergeant Informant and an Informant Basic were talking to the village elder. As I walked up, they raised their hands to their hearts in salute, which was customary.

“Gentleman,” I said as I responded to their salute.

“Thank the Godking,” the Sergeant exclaimed. “I was beginning to think the Angel wasn’t going to send anyone. Things have escalated since you were here; a child is missing.”

The elder explained that while the village was finding a place to hide the livestock, his granddaughter went looking for her favorite lamb that had run off in the direction of Nickes Outpost. It had been three days since then.

“How old is your granddaughter?” I asked while looking around for any disturbance.

“She is only three. She went off without boots or a jacket or anything and we’re expecting a storm tonight,” the elder mumbled. “Whatever is out there has surely taken her. Have you brought a Purist?”

“We don't need a Purist; our intel shows it's a Clash-Heart lurking around.”

“But,” the elder objected as he stepped forward. “We saw a shaggy beast run from the scene; we haven’t had a Clash-Heart in the village since I was a child.”

“Can you confirm this?” I asked as I turned to the Informants. “The sighting, not the history.”

They had been in the village for weeks. Still, the only thing they had seen was a shadow; a humanoid silhouette by the cliffside that contorted and lurked like an affront to creation. The true witness in the village was afflicted by delusion, so she couldn’t help if she wanted.

“I’m going to look around,” I said as I walked away.

“Be careful of the cliffside,” the elder blurted as he shook with the tremors that come with age. “The storms we’ve had lately make it unstable. It’s mudslide season.”

I swiveled my head from side to side as I passed through Elkaria. It wasn’t an impressive village. The largest homes were no more than shacks. The residents seemed happy enough and they tried to help with my investigation in any way that they could. The older villagers gave a similar description of the creature, adding that they saw the beast eating out of their trash.

The children gave accounts that only children could give. Things like the putrid smell of the beast and the way it barked and scratched at itself. I had been there half-a-day without finding any clues. I wanted to go out to the site of the aurochs mutilation, but the foreboding sky told me I needed to seek shelter in a shabby shack.

The elder and his son invited me to their home, which looked like the houses in the Pit, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I remember them serving me some sort of beef that had been cured with corns of salt and the bed that I slept in was far too small. When the storm started, I was reminded why I didn’t like the ocean.

The constant assault of rain against the unfinished roof sounded like a small animal sprinting around. As I lay there in a half-conscious daze, I could swear there were predator’s eyes peeking through the gaps in the roof. But as soon as the lightning illuminated the room, all I could see was the faucet of water trickling down onto the floor.

I was sure that the elder’s house was going to blow away. The great gusts of the gale were unrelenting and it seemed like an eternity before dawn came. When it did, the storm had subsided as little as it could. Without word to the elder, I walked to where they held their livestock. The whole time I was praying to the Godking that there was still a trail to follow.

The downpour was more of a heavy nuisance than anything as the dawn fog rolled into the farmland. A hospitable but simple farmer clad in cloth trousers and an old rag of a shirt let me into the animal house. The aurochs, goats, pigs, and sheep were huddled for protection. When I approached them, I was given various bellows and belches.

There was nothing unusual in the barn but my gut told me that the animals were scared of more than just the thunder and lightning. At the opposite end of from the entrance was a wall that had several wooden planks missing. It was large enough for a hound to get through, but not necessarily a human.

Lo and behold, there were a set of footprints in the size and shape of a man. Beside them were a set of smaller footprints in the muck. Maybe the elder’s granddaughter was chasing after the thing because it took her goat. It was also possible that she was the Clash-Heart responsible, though witnesses said the silhouette was decently large.

“What news, Inquisitor?” The Sergeant Informant asked as he entered the barn.

“Footprints fresh in the muck,” I replied as I stood from a kneeled position and felt my lower back tighten. “Come on, I need to see if they lead anywhere significant.”

We followed the footprints north toward the Hallowed City and found a small white and pink lamb, bitten open at the stomach. There were no signs of the elder’s granddaughter. If the Clash-Heart had just fed, maybe it would leave the girl alone. I was more worried about her leaving the beast alone, honestly.

The wind picked up in a whirl and the heavy rain turned into hail. I was so excited the day before but in that moment, I just wanted to go home. In the howl of the storm I heard the cry of the elder’s granddaughter and a deeper howl of the creature. In the mist, its shape stood out as that of a werewolf, which was impossible because there were none left in the world.

I knew then what the Clash-Heart was. It was a Half-Cu, the unholy abomination that was a result of a human and a faerie in the shape of a dog. I didn’t want to think how the beast was made, but I’ve since learned that some Cu would spiritually merge with an unsuspecting person. The elder may have been right; I should have brought a Purist.

A Half-Cu had all the lower attributes of a regular human, except for the tail that resembled a frayed rope. I could clearly see the faerie spirit in its glowing green eyes and extended snout. I had heard tales that they weren’t especially dangerous but I could also have been mixing them up with their faerie cousin, the Cait.

As the Sergeant and I approached the scene, we tried to trap the beast with a pincer movement. I was on the south side and the Sergeant would come down from the north. It had the girl in its shaggy paws and started eyeing us with nowhere to go. The cliff was to its back and the mud beneath was making it increasingly hard for the Clash-Heart to stay where it was.

“Just give us the girl and we can figure something out,” I said to no avail. “There are plenty of Clash-Hearts and criminals that live in the Pit of the city. If you choose to repent before the Godking, we will spare you. Choose redemption.”

The beast barked and pushed the girl toward the Sergeant. It then decided to try its luck by charging me. The ground beneath the creature was far too weak to withstand its weight at this point and the Half-Cu was spirited away in a mudslide into the Resplendent Ocean.

I made sure the elder’s granddaughter was unharmed, and other than a few scratches from the Half-Cu’s claws and her soaked clothes, she was in good condition. The Sergeant Informant and I took her back to the village where I was sure her grandfather would be with open arms and a wide smile.

“That’s not my granddaughter,” the elder said when I knocked on his door to return the girl. “We found her playing with her stuffed lamb in her room.

“So, who are you?” I asked the girl as the elder closed his door in my face.

She shrugged and skipped away.

I wasn’t sure what to do in the moment but with the Clash-Heart gone and the granddaughter found, I returned back to the city. I went to the Court of the Angels to give my account. I held my head low and didn't look at the Angel. I could have saved the life of the girl and served justice to the Clash-Heart by arresting him. He could have saved his soul by repenting.

In the end, I had a hole in my heart. Sure, I saved a different child, but something about the whole thing felt anti-climactic.