Red prodded the last follower of Corizar in the stomach, the tip of their spear catching on a bundle of fabric and tearing a hole in his robe. The follower fell backwards in fear, scrambled to his feet and clamored down the ladder that led out of the attic room. Red turned their attention to the altar in the middle of the attic.

The altar seemed to glow. Red sat cross-legged in front of it, stared directly at the idol, and intoned a prayer. They closed their eyes, holding the image of the idol in the center of their vision. "Corizar, show yourself, RIK AN VHUM."

The god known as Corizar appeared in front of Red wearing a flowing red robe covered in ornate gold embellishments. The mindscape morphed from infinite black as flowers blossomed underneath their feet and great birds of prey soared overhead. The sky became a bright red-orange, color spreading out from a single point on the horizon. Corizar smiled unassumingly at Red. "One little raid does no damage to my cause, little one. Unless... Ah. So you are one of them."

Red nodded.

Corizar laughed so loud Red almost cupped their ears. "You foolish mortal! Your rituals and spells have no power over me in my realm. Besides, you might be the least threatening Jhikae warrior-monk I've ever seen!"

"My size is irrelevant in this world. You know that, Corizar," Red kept their composure.

"Then let us play a game together! Whoever manages to scare the other first shall get walk away with their life. Or perhaps you'd prefer a race to the end of the world, though I'm certain you know who would win that," Corizar teleported to the edge of the world and back.

"Okay. I'll go first," Red agreed.

After a few minutes, Corizar rolled his eyes. "Well? I'm waiting? Do you really have to focus that intensely in order to conjure up a simple phantom? Were you daydreaming while your master lectured you on the finer arts of magic?"

"DREN TUU SILCAE JI-O, CORIZAR."

A wave of infinite water appeared on all sides and immediately engulfed them. Red smiled at Corizar, who struggled against the current trying to somehow break free of the water. He found no quarter and was swept away. The mindscape returned to blackness.

Corizar had died.

Red exited the mindscape by opening their eyes and looked at the altar again. It had gone completely dark. It was nothing special.

They climbed down the ladder that led to the attic and scanned the empty farmhouse one last time. Confident that it was now safe, Red said a final prayer of cleansing and left. Outside, a man in his fifties with large eyes waited by a hovercraft. "Is it finished? Didya kill him?"

"Yes. Corizar no longer exists."

"But... why didn't you kill his followers?" The man looked confused when he should have been pleased.

"They didn't seem like a threat. With their god destroyed, the cowards will move on to more fruitful endeavors." Red answered.

"I thought I hired you to destroy a cult, not let them go free. That's my only issue."

"And the cult is destroyed. Destroying something is an ontological problem, or that's what my master always said, anyway. Members alone do not create a cult."

"Do you even know what that word means?" the man asked.

"I know enough to know I don't really care. Whenever my master would talk about philosophy, I'd tune out. I'm not cut out for that kind of thinking." Red relaxed in their chair.

"Are you cut out to be a monk at all?"

Red went silent, gaze moving between the man and their spear laying across the backseat. The man changed the subject. "I'll take you back to the spaceport, then, so you can be on your way. Of course, you have my endless gratitude for your work."

"Can we stop somewhere to get food on the way? I'm starving."

The man rolled his eyes. They stopped at a street vendor's stall near the spaceport shuttle where Red ordered steamed dumplings in pine sauce on a bed of rice. The man didn't order anything. Red scarfed down their meal in the parking lot as the man hurried them along.

"There's still the matter of your donation..." Red pointed out, tossing their empty food tray into a recycle bin.

"Yes, of course. Thank you again for your service, Red. It's nice to know someone in this galaxy is somewhat reliable." After hesitating, the man took out a tablet and arranged a payment.

"Does this look right?" he asked, showing Red the display.

"Yeah," Red pressed the send button for him.

"I hope your stay on Zeke's Hope has been pleasant." The man bowed to them.

"It has," Red, already frustrated, let it show.

Saved by the last call for a shuttle to the spaceport, Red waved a quick goodbye to the man and took a minute to relax before contacting the temple they received the contract from. They took out their qComm and typed a message to the head of Or-Ozi Temple on Glemmis. Halfway through their report, Red realized that they had completely forgotten the name of the man who was their contact, so they reworded their message in order to artfully avoid ever bringing it up.

The shuttle arrived at the spaceport as Red finished and sent the message. Their qComm dinged with an automated response, and they groaned. "Why the hell don't temple officials ever turn those off..." they grumbled.

Red had joined the order at thirteen years old and studied under Master Rhyse at the temple on Sirius Prime. They secured a position within the Jhikae Order as a wanderer, meaning that their job was to go wherever someone needed the order's assistance. Some temples, such as the one on Earth, had permanent warrior-monks, but cities and towns on the outskirts of federated space, or those who were too poor to establish a Jhikae Order temple, had to rely on wanderers to protect them. This meant that Red traveled around the outskirts of the outskirts of the Milky Way most of the time. Most wanderers lasted two years on average before giving up or dying, and Red was halfway through that period. Mostly, monks within the Jhikae Order, including Red's master, warned against becoming a wanderer because it was one of the loneliest positions in the galaxy. Even space truckers had clubs.

Red reserved space in a changing room and took a quick shower. They were five foot three with dark skin and were twenty years old. When they weren't on active duty, they could wear other clothes and disassemble their spear. Even without the standard issue Jhikae Order outfit of loose-fitting black pants, gray sandals, and black shirt, each embroidered with seals of protection, Red was still obviously a member of the Jhikae Order due to the massive metal circle that stuck out of the back of their head. The cybernetic implant was meant to increase their control over the mindscape, a requirement for any god-killer.

Red wasn't sure if it worked: it had been installed at sixteen, before they had ever even met a god, so they simply took the word of their master and the other elders that it functioned properly. In defiance of the rules, they decorated theirs with a small chain that hung between the implant and a piercing in the lobe of their left ear. They had quickly learned that most people didn't trust monks at all, even those from the Jhikae Order, because their image had been popularly associated with gods. To gain a sense of familiarity and trust, breaking traditions had become more common, especially with wanderers. Another rule Red broke was refusing to wear a chest binding, even inside temple spaces. That was for other reasons, though.

Red exited the changing room in a simple red dress and boots. They traveled with only a few outfits aside from their uniform. Carrying anything that couldn't fit into an extended-storage travel pack just wasn't worth the extra effort. Their qComm beeped with a response from Or-Ozi.

MSG: WELL DONE. PROCEED TO TEMPLE #7631 FOR NEXT ASSIGNMENT.

Blugh. A temple code. One would think that after two hundred years of complaints, the Jhikae Order would change the tradition to make it easier on wanderers, or at least install a memory implant that had all of them neatly arrayed. Instead, Red had to search through a database written a hundred years ago wherein a simple find function took nearly ten seconds.

But Red did so anyway and discovered that their next job was located near Silkway, one of the main stops on the way to the galactic core. They'd have to book travel, which they did on their qComm as soon as they could, discovering a freighter carrying legumes that could hold a few extra passengers. Due to their position as wanderer, they would be given the nicest amenities available on the vessel for free.

Sadly for Red, the best room available on the freighter was a tube suite with a qEntertainment array installed in one of the walls. Another trip of doing nothing but watching ero-soaps and meditating lay ahead of them. The inherent boredom of interstellar travel aside, Red mostly enjoyed spending time alone. Some warrior-monks invested in training support animals to accompany them, but Red found it to be too much effort, and if anything were to ever happen to the creature, Red wouldn't be able to take care of it.

Being a wanderer meant there wasn't much time for personal relationships. They were allowed within the Jhikae Order, but Red didn't have the time to keep up with friends or lovers. Instead, whenever they felt truly desperate for human connection, they would log onto a chatroom and find someone to pretend with. They had developed close relationships with a few people from a distance in this way, but sooner or later the person would get frustrated and disappear.

Red only cared once, when it had nothing to do with distance.

After two layovers and three days of space travel, a shuttle carrying Red docked at Silkway's Moon III Temple. Red had never been there before, but, despite struggling to find their way around, managed to find the office of the temple master. Due to security purposes, long range communications regarding the details of new contracts for Jhikae Order initiates were strictly forbidden, so these conversations always had to occur in person.

Red wore their uniform, which had just been neatly laundered. "Hello, Temple Master, what is my next assignment?"

The temple master was a black woman with deep wrinkles named Gris. Instead of a shaved head, she wore her gray-black hair in a huge bun. She smiled and then responded, "You must be Red. Welcome to Moon III Temple. Before we begin, I've been informed that your last assignment didn't go according to plan. Why didn't you destroy the cult fully?"

Red was taken aback. "It... didn't seem wise to murder weaklings. They were people who had never battled a day in their life. I knew that destroying their god would have been more than enough to route them."

Master Gris pursed her lips. "I suppose that's acceptable reasoning. I just hope that they don't move on to another god and become even more dangerous. Oh well, let's move on to your assignment..."

Master Gris keyed something into the tablet in front of her. "Approximately eighty-nine light-years from this star is Casio V, where a new settlement has just been incorporated by green gold miners. However, there have been rumors that some of the miners have begun praying to a luck god and have been rewarded for their efforts. Pools of liquid green have been found in near-surface deposits. Now, it could just be random, but..."

"But someone has to check it out." Red finished her sentence.

"Indeed. Well, would you be willing to go there and find out what's going on?" The question was merely a formality: wanderers had no ability to turn down jobs.

"Of course, Master Gris. When does the next shuttle leave?" Red asked.

"I've arranged your transport through a trader who regularly goes between Silkway and Casio V. She was happy to let you tag along in her guest suite. Her name is Captain Orin. Hopefully her accommodations are acceptable to you," the look on Gris' face suggested that Orin was a friend of the temple, if not Gris herself.

"Anything for the Jhikae Order. When does she arrive?" Red clarified.

"She will be here in two days. Until then, you're welcome to make yourself at home here. I'll call for a monk to show you to your quarters. Do you have any other questions?" Gris pressed a button on the display on her desk.

"No, Master Gris. I understand." Red bowed respectfully and left Gris' office.

A monk arrive to show them to their quarters. "Where are you visiting from?" The monk asked.

"I just came from Zeke's Hope. A small blood cult had begun threatening food supplies there and had to be wiped out." Red explained.

"To think someone of your demeanor could last as a wanderer..." the monk seemed overcome with uncertainty.

"Yeah. Hey, when's the next meal?"

The monk was annoyed. "In about an hour."

"Thank fuck."

They arrived at Red's quarters and the monk took xir leave. Red stretched out on the sleeping mat and counted down the minutes until food was served.