The man was heavier than Cecil expected, his wings hung limp, dragging slightly behind them as they walked. He muttered every few steps, mostly still asking for food.
The walk back was short but slow. The lack of a population in the alley was a benefit as no one intervened.
It took Cecil a few minutes to reach the inn, the weight of the man causing Cecil to strain and adjust his grip, in order to reach out with a free hand to open the door.
The lobby was more or less empty, with only a few stragglers left nursing whatever drinks they had left. The innkeeper looked up from their cleaning of the bartop and raised an eyebrow as Cecil half-dragged the young avian across the threshold.
"I found him collapsed in the alley. He was groaning about food." Cecil said calmly.
The innkeeper rounded the counter without hesitation and grabbed the avian's other arm.
"The bench near the hearth's still warm," she said. "I'll have the kitchen scrape something together."
Cecil just gave her a nod, and together they eased the stranger down onto the long bench by the fire. The avian slumped immediately, limbs and wings sprawled like someone stretching across a couch.
As the innkeeper disappeared into the back, the light of the hearth gave Cecil a clearer look at the man: olive skin, matted blond hair pulled into a messy bun, a soft, rounded face, aquiline nose, barn owl-like wings, wooden sandals, and round, golden-tinted eyeglasses. He looked young, perhaps a few years younger than Cecil.
His robes were once white, now stained from the alley. Yellow trim outlined them faintly. Underneath the grime the embroiderment on the chest could be made out, it was a tree, at its crown, midsection, and roots were 3 triangles intersected by eleven spheres, connected by branching lines.
'A Priest?' Cecil thought to himself.
Soon, the innkeeper returned with a wooden tray: a bowl of stew, some slices of bread, a mug of cold water, and a set of silverware.
"That's about all I can spare, this late," she said, setting the tray down. "The stew might be a bit cold."
The food sat untouched for a moment, until the Avian's nose twitched from the smell. His eyes fluttered open, brown and glassy behind his spectacles. He stared at the tray, then jolted upright and began devouring the food with wild enthusiasm.
"OH THANK THE NINE!" He blurted out through a mouthful of stew.
Cecil sat in silence across from him, resting his cane against the wall.
Eventually, the pace of eating slowed. The Avian noticed Cecil and the innkeeper watching him and set down his spoon. He gave a short, polite bow of the head.
"Thank you, for the food."
The avian seemed to look around, trying to find something to clean his mouth, noticing that the innkeeper handed him a napkin, allowing him to wipe his mouth and leaned back with a sigh of contentment.
The innkeeper gave a warm chuckle and waved him off. "Just don't make a habit of collapsing in my alley."
The Avian smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, my friend."
Cecil remained quiet, studying the young man's mannerisms closely. Now that he was no longer ravenous, the avian seemed to hold himself with a level of grace one would expect from a priest. He sat with folded hands in his lap, wings half-draped behind him like a shawl, almost as if he was in the middle of a sermon.
"What's your name?" Cecil asked.
The avian smiled gently "Ah, yes. I do apologize." placing a hand over his heart. "My name is Samuel."
He paused, then added, "Samuel Feathersworth, and I'm a member of the Holy Theocracy—specifically a member of the Inquisition Branch of the Church."
Samuel's voice was precise despite his earlier desperation, evidently proud of his role within the Inquisition.
Cecil arched an eyebrow. "An inquisitor?" he asked, intrigued.
Samuel gave a slight nod, still smiling. "Yes, though perhaps not in the way most imagine. I'm more… scholarly than militant. My duties tend to involve more investigation than combat."
"What brings a member of the inquisition to Grandport, especially in the state you were in?"
Samuel's fingers tapped thoughtfully against the arm of the bench. "I have recently advanced to a Stage 8 Sorcerer and as such the Church gave me a special assignment, to assist in an ongoing case."
The innkeeper perked up. "You mean the murder cases that have been going around?"
"Murder cases?" Cecil asked.
"Aye," she said. "a recent string of murders over the past few months. All victims being refugees from the Grand Republic, their corpses burnt beyond recognition, so the rumours go. It's been leaving the other refugees on edge."
"Why is the Church involved? Shouldn't this fall under the jurisdiction of Grandport's law enforcement?"
"Under usual circumstances, yes," Samuel said with a shrug. "But both the Church and Grandport have reason to suspect supernatural involvement, thus leading it to fall instead under the Church's jurisdiction, despite Captain Smith's objections. It also doesn't help that Grandport enforcement is spread thin because of the upcoming festival."
Cecil narrowed his eyes slightly. "So what? You were investigating murders by collapsing in an alley? That was your strategy, Feathersworth?"
Samuel stared at Cecil, unamused. "No, in fact. Despite the local branch practically begging Central for assistance on the case, I have instead been assigned menial assignments, with absurd deadlines." There was a thin but unmistakable edge of spite in his voice.
Cecil leaned back slightly in his chair. "So, rather than solving the murders the church has assigned you too, they have instead been pushing busywork onto you?"
Samuel gave an annoyed huff. "That's the gist of it. I don't know if it's because they are not taking too kindly to younger members rising through the ranks quickly or if they just don't think I am of any use in regards to the case."
He paused, then gestured vaguely with his spoon. "And what busywork they have been giving me hasn't allowed for much time to eat."
"It seems that they want you out of the way," Cecil said plainly.
"Thanks for noticing." Samuel said dryly.
"Why not inform Central?" Cecil asked.
"I have already sent a message to Zariah, but I'd rather not just sit on my ass waiting for a response." Samuel placed his spoon down, having finished his meal.
The innkeeper collected the empty tray and refilled their waters before leaving.
"So, what do you plan on doing next?" Cecil asked.
Samuel straightened a little, smoothing his robes instinctively. "First I get some rest and hopefully get cleaned up, and then in the morning I will return to the church to see what scraps of information I can salvage, to see if I can at least make some progress by myself."
"You plan to investigate alone?"
"If the local branch refuses to assist me in completing my assignment, I will just do it myself."
Cecil's fingers adjusted his monocle with a sigh. "I have business with the Church myself. I'll accompany you on your return tomorrow."
Samuel blinked in mild surprise. "Oh? Are you affiliated with the Church as well?"
"Not exactly," Cecil replied. "I'm looking to purchase Blinkwolf eyes, and I was told the Church acquired the last available stock."
"Blinkwolf eyes?" Samuel asked. "Aren't those mystical ingredients? Are you planning on making some sort of charm?"
"No," Cecil said, waving the question off as unimportant. "They serve as Secondary Ingredients for my own Sorcerer recipe."
"Never knew they were used in a Sorcerer Lineage," Samuel accepted Cecil's response with a hum. "but you're welcome to accompany me."
Cecil stood, grabbing his cane. "Then we leave in the morning. I'll pay for your room tonight."
He turned and walked toward the innkeeper, Samuel following close behind.
The innkeeper looked up as the two men approached, finishing cleaning up one of the tables. Her gaze shifted between Cecil and the recently fed avian.
"Room for him, just for tonight." Cecil said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a few coins.
"It's on the house tonight, Room Two is empty." As she waved off the coins, and handed Samuel a key. 'Second Floor, first door on the right."
Samuel gave a small bow. "Much appreciated."
She waved him off. "Just don't pass out in the alley again."
Cecil turned to Samuel. "Let's get some rest."
Samuel smiled faintly, weariness already catching up with him again. "Understood. And thank you again, Mr…"
"Cecil Hollows," he said simply.
"Its a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hollows." Samuel said, as he started to make his way towards the stairs. Cecil followed behind both of them parting ways into their respective rooms.
Once inside, Cecil locked the door behind him and removed his coat, draping it over a chair. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his journal, making notes about everything that had occurred since his last entry.
He set the journal down on the nightstand, leaned back, and let his head rest against the wall as he closed his eyes.