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Unlike some of the other pilgrimage recruits, Ioxeia had not had far to travel to reach the city that sat on the edge of hell. The monastery she had called home since the last crusade had ended was only a half day’s travel under the blistering sun away from the city, having been founded there to care for the sick and wounded away from the profane stench of the city and to create a space of spiritual purity nearby. Despite this, when she laid her green lens covered eyes upon the walls of Zion that day, it was the first time she had seen the city in years. Back then it had only just begun raising its walls, battlements and garrisons. Now it stood tall before her. It was a symbol of the indomitable human spirit, yet within its walls lay the darkness and corruption of the underworld from which the forces of darkness were always trying to escape in ways both brutally blunt and insidiously cunning.

The young doctor could not help marvel at the sights and sounds of the bustling city, her eyes darting to and fro, drinking in every new sight as her ears picked up every new sound. Her nose, however, smelled nothing but the floral scents held within her beak like mask. The pleasant scents were a reminder: there was corruption here, both insidious and bold. The fact that the guards could call someone a demon as a joke (a joke! Someone as pure and devoted as she!) was a brazen reminder of that fact, which hung with her as she moved through the wondrous streets.

As much as the sights distracted, Ioxiea did not wander aimlessly and instead drove forth through the city streets with a purpose. She had directions, and she followed them to the letter. Through twists and turns she strode till she found herself before she found one of the city's healing houses. Pushing her way inside she entered into the clinic, and found its insides to be suffused with a faint mist, as expected. Gaining directions from some of the nurses she walked though its halls, the mist swirling behind her as she passed in such a way that if you saw it out of the corner of your eye you might see the faint impression of an angel guarding her back, till she found who she was looking for. 

The man she was looking for wore a garb similar to her own, but with a jackal mask in place of her corvid one, and was just finishing talking to a patient about the splint he’d set for them when she arrived. She patiently waited for him to finish, then got his attention with a knock on the door-frame 

[color=lime]“Hello father”[/color]

The man started and spun round to look at her. When he saw her his eyes briefly lit up, “Ioxeia!” before concern immediately overtook the joy, “You're here... Does that mean?”

She nodded and confirmed [color=lime]“I have been blessed by the lord, and I am ready to do my part.”[/color]

A minute or so later the two had moved to Ioxeia’s father’s quarters to speak privately. The room was sealed, as best as it could be, and  incense was lit, purifying the room and allowing her to remove her mask for the first time since she had approached the city, revealing the face of a worried but determined young woman that had been hidden behind it. Her father did too, and face to face they spoke for a while, catching up and talking about the future. About family. About commitments. About pointless comfortable things too. All too soon however, the voice in the sky boomed out and it was time to go. 

“Ioxeia. Before you go...” he said as she stood to go obey the summons, but faltered before he could complete the sentence

[color=lime]“I’ll come back. I promise.”[/color] she swore, and then no more was said. They embraced and then she stepped away, donned the mask once more, and stepped back out into the halls of the hospital to head for the castle.

Her father watched another of his family go to meet their fate, the young woman marching through the mists with the specter of an angel at her side and a raven on her shoulder, and prayed this time that the promise they had made to him wouldn’t be a lie.