21 Meeting a Legend

Ghustav Donovan - I carved out an empire with my ambition. Now I fall by it. (Last words before being stabbed by two of his sons.)

He raised his sword with respect towards me.

In return, I raised my own fist as I flashed a happy, hard glare. We synced as we nodded towards one another as Joan said, “Do you guys know each other?”

I shook my head and said, “No, not at all.”

She poked my side as she said, “Then why are you and him so friendly?”

I shook my head as I smirked and said, “Ah, it’s a competitive sort of thing. I guess we just acknowledged one another.”

Sophia’s lips made a thing line as she said, “I don’t get it.”

I shrugged as I said, “Eh, I don’t really either, but it felt right, yenno?”

Her nose crinkled as she said, “Not really.”

Right as he finished his words, Solomon paced towards us, his head looming above even mine. I never noticed how I’d gotten used to being the highest head in any room. The feeling became natural, yet for the first time in many months, the pressure of size hit me.

No doubt, I weighed more, but not by much. His armor weighed hundreds of pounds while his eight foot height towered over me. His helmet cut off with horns stabbing behind him. They were the fangs of creatures I’d never known. Gems of all sizes radiated from him, and whenever he reached beside me, he sheathed his blade as he spoke in a voice both full and noble,

“It’s rare I see someone who replies in earnest to my greeting. Who walks with you?”

Solomon's helm lifted as I continued, “This is Joan and Sophia. They are my compatriots.”

He reached out a hand towards me and said, “I see a capable man has finally joined our ranks besides myself. Along with two young, beautiful ladies as well."

Clasping his hand, his hands match the size of my own. Even if I tensed with a solid portion of my strength, he returned the force with his own grip. Embracing the challenge, I crushed his hand with all I was worth.

Yet he stood firm as did his armor. In response, he laughed before patting the side of my shoulder as he said, “Hah, hah, hah! We have a fighter. A real, genuine fighter! What a time it is to be alive.”

As he placed his hand on my shoulder, the impact of his hand siphoned into the ground, pushing my heels into the ground. This Saint Solomon could match my own strength. You’d think I’d be unhinged or unnerved or at least agitated. Heh, quite the opposite. I was invigorated.

Aether and I attempted spars with each other. In the aftermath, I never created even the tiniest, most minute of scratches on him, and he utterly crushed me every time with a single blow. If Aether chose to, he’d be able to kill everyone within Nelastra. Hell, if he were here, I believe he might prove a challenge for you.

Joan and Sophia couldn’t pose a proper challenge if I went on any sort of offense versus either of them. Razor refused my spars on the grounds of not seeing any meaning behind it. Respecting her wishes left me with not a single soul who’d give me an actual challenge in a fight.

Not to say that I was the strongest force in Alta, but I longed for a fair fight. Solomon presented the perfect opportunity for satiating that hunger of mine. It disturbed me at times. I’d always relished in music and dance and song, yet whenever battle took place, my blood boiled. My eyes opened. I came to life.

Still, that wasn’t the time nor place for fighting, so I turned around before Solomon said, “Are you, per chance, the newly appointed Saint?”

I nodded back before he said, “I thought you were just a new member of the royal guard. Have you been touched by Gaia as well?”

The question peaked my own interest, so I said, “Hmmm, in my own way.”

Solomon walked up beside our escorting guard as he said, “You may return to your station. I will show them towards the pontifex’s chamber.”

After a hasty salute, the officer strode off before Solomon said as he turned towards me, “I remember when I first felt Gaia. I’d trained my whole life as a royal guard. Whenever they were moving the remnant for powering outer shield, one of the carriers dropped it.”

He snarled, “Of course, he faced the death penalty there after along with his family, but I saved the shard from slamming into the ground.” His softened as he continued, “My hands were bare, and the energy…it was like nothing else I’ve ever known. I could hear her.”

His voice strained as we walked up a flight of marble stairs, “It…It was beautiful. Someone as insignificant as me, chosen by Gaia…It was moving.”

He slammed his chest with a gauntleted hand, and whenever he spoke again, his voice regained its old, noble power, “Excuse my emotion, though I’m sure you understand, being a Saint.”

I raised an eyebrow as I said, “Unfortunately, I don’t.”

Solomon stopped walking before he tilted his head and said, “What? How were you given the title of a saint?”

Joan replied, “He saved a town from some plant monster things, killed a dragon, and saved a town from eight golems led by the Darkened One.”

Solomon cupped his chin with his gauntleted hand as he said, “Ah, I see. You were born of merit rather than by Gaia’s grace. Then has no one spoken with you of how you become a saint, Normally at least?”

I shook my head before he spread his arms and said, “Ah, then I shall tell you.” We continued our walk as he said, “You must touch a remnant of Gaia before you may be given the title of Saint. Gaia’s energy, it will give you strength at the cost of your humanity. You will become like an angel fallen onto earth, sent here for her bidding.”

Deluge laughed in my mind before I said, “So, this ceremony involves touching the remnant of Gaia?”

“Indeed. You are the first Saint given the title before having this done. In my long life, I’ve never seen it done.”

Sophia frowned as she said, “How many Saints have you seen coroneted?”

“Twenty nine.”

Sophia and Joan reeled back with theirs eyes shot open and their faces blank. After a pause, Joan said, “How old are you?”

Solomon said, “I will turn three hundred and thirty seven at the end of next eve.”

I nudged Solomon’s side as I said, “And here I thought you were in your mid-twenties.”

Solomon rubbed the back of his helmet as he said, “Ah, is that your age?”

I pursed my lips and said, “I’m only seventeen years of age.”

Solomon dropped his shield, the slab of steel creating cracks in the marble before he said, “You…You’re only seventeen years of age?”

Sophia had jumped back while Joan had her arms out in front of her, taking a defensive posture. Joan said, “Is it that big a deal?”

I was the youngest of all Saints before you. I was thirty seven whenever I first felt Gaia’s might. To be so young and so gifted. The oracle…It’s all true.”

As I walked over, I picked up his shield and handed it over to him as I said, “Come now, I am but a man, just like you. We do what we must, in Gaia’s name.”

Solomon peered down before nodding his head. The nods expanded before he boomed a laugh and said, “Of course. Truer words have never been spoken.”

He grabbed the shield and placed his arms through the metal bindings before he said, “It’s a wondrous day. I’ve seen much in my time, so I rarely see surprise. Two revelations in one day, how long has it been?”

Bouncing her words, Joan said, “You sound like your three hundred years younger.”

Solomon turned towards the palace doors before he said, “It certainly feels that way. I meet three younglings who speak with me, no fear in their voices or eyes. It’s a rejuvenating thing.”

Reaching the enormous doors of iron, Solomon turned towards us and said, “We must speak more. Tell me, have you all gained a residence here yet?”

We shook our head before he walked between us and placed his hand on my and Sophia’s shoulders as he said, “You may all stay with me. I shall show you all the sights of Nelastra, city of storms.”

I glanced up and pondered the prospect, weighing the pros and cons of such an endeavor, but Joan interjected, “Of course. Sounds fun.”

He gripped our shoulders as he said, “Superb.” Reaching the iron doors, I pressed my fingers between them as Solomon said, “Then I’ll open-“

The dull grinding of iron against stone hummed over his words as the doors moved. Even in my inhuman body, the weight proved difficult, but the iron obstructions relented as I clamped my hands into the plates.

Veins spread across my face as I flushed with exertion. Gritting my teeth, I growled as I edged them open over several seconds. As I finished, I turned around while slapping the numbness from my hands. With a breathless tone, I said, “This is one hell of an entry. Why are the doors so heavy?”

Solomon wrapped his arm around my shoulder as he brought me close and said, “Hah, these doors were designed many years ago with me in mind. They weigh this much as a means of preventing unlawful entry of the palace.”

He swayed me back and forth as he said, “Ah, but I guess they’ll have to rename them. Solomon’s Gate has a new mover.”

His infectious vigor seeped through us we walked back into a hundred foot height room. The lavish tapestries of Bastion lined the walls, green and white in honor of their god. Marble and alabaster, both embroidered with gold trim, composed the spectacle. No pools of blood. No decaying corpses.

The light of the sun shined overhead through a window as the roof of the room. At the chamber’s center sat a man upon a seat seething with souls. Like a throne of thorns, their torment radiated as the crowned king glanced our way, bored and bemused. Several nobles surrounded him, and at his side sat the pontifex upon his cathedra.

Many I’ve spoken with wonder why king’s sit on thrones. The reason is simple – the celestial aura of the act. If glancing at a person’s position bristles the hair across your arms and sends shocks up your spine, then how are you to raise your hand against them? They stand on a literal pedestal, and the physical difference illustrates their stature. The king, he is a higher power. A divine force of reckoning, not a mere man.

Yet I swallowed a fit of laughter at the sight. The dramatic crown on the king and magnificent mitre upon the pontifex’s head, they both seemed ridiculous when compared with the awe inspiring sight of Solomon’s horned helm. Their robes dragged below their feet, creating the need for servants to help them move. Solomon carried his thousand pound armor with ease.

Though Solomon’s face remained hidden, he shared himself with every word. These two rulers, they hid behind false faces. Nothing of their true self’s shined through their masquerades. Like two chess players, they glanced down at their pawns as they measured their worth.

However, I needed their good graces, so as Solomon explained the proper procedure for greeting them I listened with a rapt attention. Gawking with reverence, the nobles parted as we walked towards the king and pontifex. As we reached the foot of their steps, the four of us lunged onto our knees, rumbling the ground with the weight of my and Solomon’s frames.

After seeing my opening of the door, they all understood who we were. The new saint had finally come, and with him, he brought the ancient hero Solomon and Jericho’s apostles. He opened a door no other had dared opened. He spoke with Bastion’s champion as an equal. Now he leaned before the ruler’s of Bastion, promising a new era of excellence.

However, appearances prove deceiving. Allowing the king to speak first, I waited. He let us sit in silence, gloating his power before he said in a high, nasally voice, “Who is this Solomon?”

Blood dripped from Joan’s mouth as she bit her lip. Not from strain or suspicion or angst. No, she bled from stopping laughter. The king’s voice contrasted his appearance so completely, and so surely, that the tenuous tenor sounded like a joke. A prank that slammed into your chest with sudden, explosive power. Laughing at it sprouted like reflect, a natural reaction without any thought or reasoning.

A very slight snicker escaped Sophia’s lips before the king glanced at her and said, his voice sharp and stabbing, “You come in through the iron doors, interrupting my time and these nobles before you decide to laugh. Tell me, what is so funny then?”

I replied, “We were discuss-“

The king snapped, “I did not ask you. I asked her.”

A drop of sweat plopped on the floor before she said, “whenever I saw you, I thought of one of the counts I’ve seen before. I measured your greatness with his. The comparison made me laugh at its ludicrousness. Like comparing grit with gold, there is no juxtaposition that could be made.”

The king raised his nose into the air before saying, “I see you have sharp eyes then.” He turned towards Solomon and said, “Who are these people?”

The pontifex leaned a hand on the king’s shoulder as he said, “They need no introduction. I’ve heard of the Saint donned in the skin of a hydra. You are Saint Jericho, aren’t you?”

I said, “Yes, my liege.”

“Good. He has come here for his coronation. We’ve spoken of him before.”

The king said, “Ah, yes. The hero of a few little towns. I’m surprised they allowed him to become a Saint without Gaia’s influence. We need more of them regardless.”

Solomon stood, his hands shaking as he said, “Prince Albas, I understand that you’re substituting during the king’s illness, but I will not allow you to speak ill of Jericho. He opened the doors on his own. It was not I who did so.”

The nobles gasped before Albas said, “So he is strong. What of it?”

Solomon shook his head as he glared downwards. The pontifex raised his hand as he said, “This is a matter of the palisade, not one of the king. Let me handle this Solomon.”

Solomon nodded before the pontifex turned towards me and said, “You are praised in Nern as a hero. Tell me, why do you want to be saint?”

I glanced up and said, “I hope to stop the Darkened One.”

The room gasped before the pontifex nodded and said, “A goal suitable for a saint. We will host the ceremony a month from now. I will make arrangements for your stay here, and I hope the city pleases you.”

Solomon reached out a hand as he said, “I will give them stay in my own home, if it doesn’t bother either of you, of course.”

The pontifex nodded his head before saying, “Then seven days from now, we shall have another saint join your ranks Solomon. I haven’t seen you this animated since the war with Trilel.”

Solomon said, “My talents are finally of use. The Darkened One is coming. I’m happy as an old, worn tool being used by its master once more.”

Albas interjected, “So you want our land to be plagued by demons?”

“No, I want demons to kill.”

I glanced at Albas as I said, “If I may impart my own opinion, I’ve seen the Darkened One during my stay at Nern-“

Albas snapped, “You never fought with it? And you call yourself a saint.”

In a serene calm, I responded, “It was a truly fearsome creature. Fighting against something like that without warning would spell death. Though I am strong, I am by no means all powerful. I know my limits. Fighting the Darkened One on my own exceeds them.”

The Pontifex said, “Then hopefully Solomon can help you if we can find that demon. I think we’ve exchanged enough words for the moment. We wouldn’t want these diplomat waiting any longer, so though we’ve enjoyed the exchange, we must continue our business.”

We rose as Solomon said, “Then we will leave you both be, my liege. May the stars shine on your grace.”

“And may the stars shine on your fury.”

As we left, Solomon closed the doors with an adequate struggle of his own before he said, “Ah yes, that’s the introduction a saint deserves. The scorn of a spoiled prince and the disdain of the church’s head.”

Sophia chimed, “Was that unusual?”

He replied, “Quite. The king understands that his power lies in the loyalty of his subjects. Those strings are what ties an empire together. Through their actions, they represent their leader. If you belittle your followers, then as a king, you belittle yourself.”

Sophia raised an eyebrow as she said, “You seem more than a little peeved.”

“I’ve raised multiple kings in instructing Gaia’s grace, yet Albas…he’s been unresponsive. His father is a kind and gentle king, yet that same kindness has given way to the rot in Albas. Gabriel needs to discipline Albus, otherwise his attitude will worsen.”

Joan shrugged and said, “I doubt he’ll change anytime soon. Blood is thicker than water, so I doubt he’ll go against his family.”

Solomon said, “The Geshians have a saying, ‘Kindness through cruelty.’ There are times that call for punishment, even if it hurts the punisher.”

I nodded my head as I said, “So it’s like whenever a child refuses medicine because it’s bitter. You have to feed it to them even though they dislike it, for their future.”

We reached the bottom of the steps before Solomon said, “That was my meaning. My home is here at the garden. It is this way.”

We walked for a few minutes as Solomon said,

“I can hardly remember the faces of my parents, but I remember their lessons. They beat them into me, hard and often, but that gave me a backbone. But Albas…his attitude worries me. He lacks what he needs as a king. It’s outside his hands now. Gabriel needs to act.

I love Gabriel. He’s a kind king. I just…I wish he instilled respect in Albus. Bah, perhaps I’ve grown so old that can’t even think straight…Like an old sword wanting blood, but it can’t even cut skin. ”

Joan shook her head before she said, “Naw, I think you’re right. I had an aunt who taught me gemchaining. She never, and I mean never let me off easy. I got good fast cause of it, though I broke a few bones. Well, maybe more than a few.”

Pacing past a series of tombstones in front of his a quaint home, Solomon said, “It’s a balancing act. If you leave scars on your child that will never heal, then you’ve become a greater demon then a mere spoiled brat. This aunt of yours, she sounds as though she danced on that thin line.”

I observed the house at that time. Built into the edge of the castle wall, a stairway led down to a doorway beneath ground level. Plain bricks surrounded the Solomon sized doorway, but the homely house had its own charm, like the warmth of a campfire. Simple, yet timeless.

Before we walked downwards, Sophia said, “What are the tombstones for?”

Solomon turned towards them and said, “They are the graves of my wife and all my children.”

An oppressive silence overcame us as he stared past the graves and into a time long past. Solomon returned from his reverie before he turned towards Sophia and said,

“It was a long time ago. Memories have a habit of sweetening over time, even the bitter ones. These memories of my family are like ale. A little will leave you nice and warm, but if you drink them in for too long, you’ll end up weeping. Well, that’s how it is for me. I’m a sad sort of drunk.”

Sophia said, “I didn’-”

Solomon raised a hand as he said, “I will not hear any apologies. Besides, you had every right to ask. It would be strange if you weren’t curious and even more still, you all will be living with me for a while. I would much rather you freely express yourself then hold back on account of an old man’s feelings.”

I should be said that Deluge and I are skeptics. We’ve seen the pitch black in the deep, dark depths of the human soul, yet neither of us could deny the innate charisma of Solomon. He had been a man universally loved by all, and within minutes of knowing the man, his humble kindness showed through. He deserved the endless songs sung for him. He deserved his title,

Champion of Bastion. I learned of all this afterwards.

So with all that blind ignorance, I said, “From what I’ve seen of you Solomon, I can say with certainty that your family lived wonderful lives, and as they passed on, they did so with your hand in theirs, smiling.”

Solomon glanced towards the edge of the stone wall before he pounded his chest with his arm as if beating something from his chest. After a moment, he said with a raspy voice, “Come now, let’s go inside. I’m getting all emotional out here, and I can’t let the guards see me tear up.”

His voice broke at his last words, so Joan walked over and hugged him as she said with a grin plastered on her face, “You’re like a loveable bear.”

Ruffling Joan’s hair beneath her hood, Solomon said, “And you remind me of an adorable cub.” He picked her up by her waist before setting her atop his armored shoulder, Joan’s eyes laughing as he did so. We walked down the stairs before he opened the doorway for us.

The tasteful decor proved as minimalist as before. The entrance linked with his den with a pleasant heat ebbing off everything. Like the home of a grandparent, the room saturated with a smell like lost memories while the welcoming warmth would let a man sleep with his eyes open.

The orange hue beaming from a pile of fire opal’s along with the stone furniture set the room as strut and sturdy and still, yet folded furs covered the harsh rock while the gems ebbed with happy glow. The souls in the opals seemed sated, like pets in their master’s home. Even Deluge accepted their treatment, despite his aversion towards soulforging.

Deluge even mumbled in my mind, “Those opals...they hold the power of a soul remarkably well. Not as absolutely as alexandrite, but they are suitable enough.”

I grinned as I thought towards him, “You like Solomon as well?”

“Bah. I find him interesting, but other than a mild curiosity, I hold no bond with him.”

I rolled my eyes before Solomon set his shield and sword on table of iron. He did so without any loud banging before he paced over towards the pile of fire opals and cupped them with his hands. Walking over towards us, he said, “I have no torches in my home, but these should suffice for any lighting you may need.”

Sophia leaned back as she said, “You’re letting us borrow these?”

“Of course.”

“These are fire opals. They’re over 500 gold pieces per gem.”

Solomon pushed his hands towards us as he said, “And they give off a wondrous light. I insist each of you use one or two for your rooms. They help keep you warm even when you’re around these cold walls.”

Joan jumped from his shoulder before taking an opal in each of her hands as she said, “My father always told me, ‘Those who give unto others receive salvation.’ And it’s rude to deny gifts anyway.”

I grabbed two of the gems before Solomon pushed his hands over towards Sophia, Solomon’s fingers as large as a hammer’s handle. Sophia pursed her lips as she took one before Solomon laid them back on the table behind him. He walked into his kitchen as he said,

“No doubt it’s been a time since any of you have ate. You must be hungry. I’ll fix you something.”

Despite my lack of hunger, Joan and Sophia’s eyes popped open as they heard his offer. I relented before I walked over towards him and said, “Would you mind any help?”

He pointed towards a pile of fruit as he said, “Of course not! In fact, that pile of fruit needs to be strained for its juice. I have a juicer somewhere in here.”

I looked through a couple wooden cabinets before finding a steel bowl. I squeezed the fruit over it in my hands, crushing the seed as the skin split before swallowing whole the fibrous lump leftover. After I did so, Solomon said,

“I can tell you roughed it on your way here. If it doesn't bother your companions, I don’t mind you doing it that way.”

Sophia replied, “Eh, he’s been pretty gross since day one, so it’s nothing new.”

Solomon laughed as he said, “Your companions think highly of you, aye Jericho?”

I grinned as I replied, “As highly as I think of them.”

Deluge thought towards me, “Well put.”

Sophia leaned over a stone chair as she said, “Eh, I had that one coming.”

Joan explored the room with sly steps before she said, “It’s hard to outwit Ja-ericho.”

Solomon took two rubies and placed them in a pot of water before slicing vegetables as he said, “Really now? It took me centuries before I found any way with words. I made more enemies than I’d want to admit when I was learning.”

Joan leaned onto a counter as she said, “Would you mention any names?”

“Hmmm, I remember squabbling with Meltanir III many times.”

Sophia leaned her chest onto the top of the chair as she said, “The Meltanir who allied himself with the Geshians?”

“The one and only. That was my suggestion by the way. He wanted to just smash everything using a golem army. I told him that was a hive he’d best leave alone. No country has fought with golems yet. They make mincemeat of normal soldiers, and they’d trivialize the role of infantry, but more importantly, they’d put to much power in the empire’s hands.”

I asked, “Done with the juicing. I’m guessing you’ll be using some salted meat for that stew of yours?”

Solomon turned towards me and said, “Ah yes. Of course. We use sapphires as our preservative here. Keep’s the rot away with cool. Quite a nifty thing. There in the wooden box at your side.”

As I found and began pulling the meat from the bones, Sophia said, “What did you mean earlier when you said put too much power into the empire’s hands?”

Solomon responded, “If they controlled an army of golems, then no number of civilians could stand against them. Even the most foolish mandate could be enforced. They could oppress the people without any hope of resistance. That frightens me more than a single demon like the Darkened One.”

Sophia chimed, “But didn’t the oracle say that the Darkened One would usher forth a millenia of darkness or something like that?”

With his words oozing a grim calm, Solomon said, “Tell me though, child, did she ever specify how?”

Sophia said, “What?”

“She never said that the demon would cast this world into darkness with his own hands. He could cause it indirectly. I’m sure you’ve heard of what the palisade is planning.”

My chest tightened while my breath grew ragged as he continued, “They’re doing things never done. They’ve broken into the forbidden archives. I’ve seen pieces of what they’re doing, and I’ve heard worse still.”

Ice injected into his voice as he said, “The twisted shadows and apparitions of people reside in their labs. They’re breaking every holy tenant in their crusade, just like during the Rot of Death. It eats at me. I’ve never seen them so up in arms.”

He placed his hands on his stone counter top with a dull thud sounding before he said, “The darkness won’t come from the Darkened One. The darkness will come from trying to stop him.”

Noticing the shift in ambience, Solomon turned towards us as he said, “I’m sorry. Excuse my outburst. It’s just...I can’t stand watching the palisade corrupt themselves in the pursuit of purity.”

I snarled, my teeth showing sharp and white as I stared at the wall and said, “It’s a twisted sort of irony, isn’t it?”

Solomon walked over towards me before setting a hand on my shoulder as he said, “I understand your pain, but we must keep faith in the church. They returned from their misdealings with the plague, they’ll return from this one as well.”

My voice resonated through the room as I turned towards him and said,

“Some doors are better left unopened, but that omen isn’t what haunts me. No. What makes my teeth chatter and my hands tremble is the revelation that some doors may never be closed.”

Solomon stepped back as he lifted his hand from me, but he regained his composure as he spread out his arms and said, “You think too darkly for someone so young.” He pointed at the bowl underneath me and said, “Focus on what can be done now. You put all the meat in the juice you just squeezed.”

A flush crept up my face as Solomon laughed and said, “Don’t worry yourself too much. Fruit and meat are actually the cheapest things here in Nelastra. They’re the easiest things that the tribes can harvest.”

I nodded before I grabbed the bowl and drank contents by waterfalling the mixture into my mouth, meat and all. It was the strangest mouthful I’ve ever swallowed. It tasted like frozen fire with liquid smoke. Delicious. After gulping it down, Solomon said, “You’ve got quite the appetite then?”

Grabbing the bowl, I began squeezing the rest of the fruits as I said, “Quite, though this fruit burns like an inferno while being so cold.”

Solomon nodded before saying, “Ah, you must have grabbed a few peppers along with the barii fruit. It keeps a chilled temperature, especially as it ages, and I had a few spicy peppers on the counter. The smoked meat must have been a surprise in all that.”

I grinned as I said, “It’s marvelous.”

Solomon tapped the edge of his helmet as he said, “I believe I asked for those peppers for crafting a spray against beasts. They were the spiciest in the whole region of Velltuah. You haven’t even flinched, let alone cry out in pain.”

After moving the bowl aside, I grabbed another hunk of meat from storage along with a different bowl before I said, “It scorches a tongue like boiling water, but compared to some torments, that is nothing.”

He nodded before saying, “You speak like an immortal before becoming one. It’s a strange thing.”

Joan walked beside me before she said, “He’s tough as tough as hunk of iron, and more stubborn too, especially when it counts.”

I turned towards her as I said, “Depends on what we’re counting.”

“Let’s count the number of times you’ve broken a brick with your forehead.”

I raised an eyebrow as I said, “What?”

Sophia inspected one of her fire opals as she said, “It’s something old people say when you do something in simple and blunt manner. Often times used in demeaning sort of way.”

I frowned as I turned towards Joan and said, “Ah, of course. Please, do continue.”

She beamed brightly as she said, “But of course.” She counted on her fingers as she said, “I remember using all kinds of techniques on you when we first fought. You just took all the heat before hitting me once and winning. Ther’s number one.”

She raised another finger as she said, “I do recall you beating a golem with your bare hands to save Sophia, right? She said you couldn’t dodge what it did, so you just beat it with your bare fists.”

She raised another two fingers as Sophia said, “And the golems in town and the dragon. He just beat those up the same way.”

I rolled my eyes as I said, “Alright then, what about when I play music? That’s not the most brutal of displays.”

With an impish grin, Joan looked up at me as she said, “I actually recall you threatening some people by snapping their violin.”

Sophia shook her head as she said, “Tsk, tsk. You’ve got quite the checkered past. I thought more of you yenno.”

I suppressed a snicker at their teasing as I said, “Yes, Saint Jericho, the Brute of Bastion.”

With sarcasm dripping from her voice, Sophia said, “I wouldn’t say that too loudly, the name might stick for more reasons than one.”

Solomon burst into laughter as he and I chuckled at their witty words. The chatter continued, clear as glass and light as air. After Solomon and I prepared the stew, we ate a late lunch before settling into our rooms. The process proved short since we owned very little, besides Sophia.

Our lack of ownership disturbed Solomon. He took the absence of possessions as a sign of our piety, as if we neglected the material in favor of some holy mission. We just played along with his story. It’d be a simpler solution than explaining ourselves.

He showed us around Nelastra, at least the parts near the palace. Dozens of chapels littered the scenery, each of them devoting themselves to some saint. After asking Solomon, he explained how every Saint received their own chapel, including me.

The chapels were mundane compared to the mansions circling beneath them. The tiered layout of Nelastra gave the perfect viewpoint for seeing their splendour, and we took full advantage of the opportunity. Joan oohed and ahed while Sophia scribbled notes like some sort of scribe.

The walk gave my mind time to wonder. Aether and Razor dug another tunnel beneath the forest floor, but considering how demonic the insects are outside, the barrier would extend through the ground as well. When I asked Solomon about the barrier’s power source, he mentioned an obvious answer- the Remnants of Gaia.

One maintained the shape of the barrier while another gave it an electric field over the surface, like lightning spawned in every panel. It prevented the energy from radiating inside as well, so the citizens lived here while the denizens outside faced the fallout. They’d exiled groups of criminals all throughout the lifetime of Nelastra, and after many decades, tribes formed from these broken people.

Of course, they lost much of their sanity surviving the forest, and the force field's radiation corrupted their bodies. Though many retained much of their humanity, others stumbled around, their minds regressing over time. Their dark history held an equally bleak future.

None of these tribes were allowed even a meager modicum of Nelastra’s vast resources. They needed no slaves due to the golems. Genius’s from across Alta gathered here like flies on a corpse, so they needed no educational system here for the young. Everyone within the city was rich, and the apparent filth that gathered outside was worthless.

They faced a severe and rigid segregation, and no matter the tribe’s achievements, they’d be dependent on the city’s supplies, like an addict needing its next fix. Solving their circumstances would be far more difficult than with the slaves of Nern as well. The slaves were regarded as human, though not always treated as one. These tribesmen, they tolerated a soul shattering prejudice not based on a brand on their forehead, but based on their blood and bones and skin.

I couldn’t change the status of these indigenous people because they had none. The city viewed them as a necessary evil, not as a resource. They faced further hardship as well, but I’ll speak of that later.

Solomon spoke of them with sadness in his voice. He’d lived through the entirety of their struggle, and when we asked him about it, he said, “Nelastra lives and breaths on the forgotten tribe’s back. One day, that back may break.”

Solomon excelled in foresight. More so than he or I understood, but after living so long, anyone would see patterns. He happened to see them with a clear clarity and open eyes.

The only issue that popped up when he discussed two meetings I had tommorrow. Since saints were a rare resource, the church and Bastion had stringent requirements on their responsibilities. One was a required meeting with the real king. I didn’t think much of the meeting with the man. Albas seemed small minded while owning an ego brittle as chalk, and from what Solomon said, I expected a kind yet spineless king.

On the other hand, my other meeting would be difficult, though in only one notable aspect. It required quelling a flood of fury. It required eating an anger seeped in the blood of family and soaked in the tides of time. I would be meeting the bishop known as Abraham Misus. The head of the palisade.