Chapter 93

"Why are you here?" Katarina asked, and suddenly they were no longer in Katarina’s quarters. Instead, they strolled through the halls of the Grand Cathedral. As they walked past racks of low-burning candles, Katarina’s skin crawled, an itch at the back of her neck, as if they were being followed.

She glanced behind them, and lurched to a halt. Directly behind her, only ten or so running steps away from her stood a woman with her back to them. She was dressed in the old style gothic armor, the kind that was gilded and lacquered and intricately carved with damascened details and fluted ridges. Flowing down from the back of her helmet was a tumble of golden hair that hung to the middle of her back.

"What-?" Katarina began, and Andrianna looked back, and burst into laughter.

"Oh, that one." She laughed again, a robust and expansive laugh. "She’s furious with you, you know." the dead saint remarked to Katarina.

Katarina glanced back at Andrianna, and then back to the woman who stood ramrod straight, her back to Katarina.

"Who-?" She began, and Andrianna laughed again. "You know." She replied ambiguously.

"I don’t-" She began, but Andrianna cut her off.

"What was the first thing she said to you?" She asked, and Katarina shook her head. "I don’t know who it is, so how can I answer that?" She replied testily.

Andrianna let out a short sigh of exasperation. "Well, now’s a good a time as any..." She remarked dourly to herself.

"The Golden Lady gave you a gift, Katarina. You’ve used it a few times already, but never consciously." She paused for a moment. "Almost never. You used it once, consciously, but you didn’t know what you were doing then, so I guess it doesn’t count."

Katarina turned back to the saint with an irritated glance. "What gift is that?" She argued, and Andrianna smiled.

"Stop looking at her with your eyes, and look at her with your heart."

Katarina fixed the saint with a blank stare in response. Andrianna sighed. "To think I’d be giving lessons..." She muttered. In a stronger voice, she instead said, "Close your eyes. It helps the first few times. Close your eyes and reach deep inside. Reach for the strength that burns in your heart, the strength of the dawn, the strength of the blaze, the might of Glory."

Katarina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and she could immediately sense it, as if waiting for her. It was like a blaze, a multi-fractal blaze of prismatic sunlight that burned even as it collapsed inward upon itself. Spiralling up and out and inward.

She opened her eyes, and beheld the Living Saint Celestine.

"So... what was the first thing she said to you?" Andrianna asked again.

Katarina let out a breath. "She said I was worthy to follow in her footsteps." She replied.

"So what was the first thing you said when you picked up her sword?" Andrianna replied.

Katarina bit her lip. She didn’t want to say.

"Say it." Andrianna urged.

"I’m unworthy." She replied reluctantly.

"And that’s why the sword has remained in its sheath." Andrianna concluded. "But that is not for now. Now is my time. Come along." She grabbed Katarina’s arm, and began walking through the cathedral again.

"What are you really?" Celestine called from behind her. Katarina turned to face the Living Saint, confused.

"I don’t-" Katarina began, but the woman, of a height with Katarina, marched up to the Witch Hunter pushing herself into Katarina’s space.

"You were given a task. You were to take the Essence of Glory from the Temple at Osk and bring it here, to Darnell." The woman leaned closer. "A Mortal, a human could not hope to contain Glory as you have. Days, weeks, months you’ve been carrying it. Containing it in a fragile human shell, in a fragile human soul. You should have been obliterated, Katarina." She stepped forward, pushing the Witch Hunter back. "But you live. Even now, Glory burns in your breast, struggling to free itself, and yet it can’t, because you-" she paused, "because somehow you are keeping it contained."

"It’s not yet time!" Katarina yelled, pushing the Living Saint back. "I have things to do!"

"Makes no difference." Andrianna argued. "You’re Mortal. Glory cannot be contained for long. We are, each of us, the Saints of the Golden Lady. Mortals raised to the celestial to be sure, but we are human, Katarina."

Alicia had appeared from somewhere. "I told you, right?" She asked. "The Goddess, She decides who becomes a Saint. She chooses a human to carry out Her will in this world." She paused, but continued. "Containing Glory as you have would obliterate each and any one of us." she lowered her head in thought.

"I don’t think you are human any longer, Katarina."

"None of us do." Celestine spoke up warningly.

"Not- what?" Katarina asked, baffled. "Of course I am. I have always been human." She tried to take a step back, but a hand rested on her shoulder, holding her in place.

"So you don’t remember." A voice, so like her own, from behind her. "Or perhaps you choose to forget. But I remember. You called to me, and I answered. She was not very happy with that. You should have called to Her. Now we are both punished. Now we are both no longer what we were."

Katarina turned around, and stared into the thundercloud eyes of Simurgh.

Katarina glanced around, mystified. How had she gotten all the way to the Temple of the Lily? Suddenly she paused. She wasn’t asleep in her chair in her quarters. She was in bed, next to Olivia. She’d already fixed the stitching on her vest, bathed and ate dinner with Olivia, and then took the other woman to bed, willing herself to wake up when it was time to sneak out of the Alstroemeria.

"You have the Emerald Tablets." Andrianna spoke from behind her. Katarina nodded. "That’s right." She agreed, not turning around. She didn’t know why she wasn’t supposed to turn around, she only knew that she shouldn’t, so she didn’t.

"You know what to do with them." Andrianna stated, and Katarina shook her head. "I figured I’d know when the time came." She replied simply. "Barring that, I’d leave them with the relics of the saints that I’ve gathered."

All this earned her was a contemptuous sniff. "The so-called Church of Angland recognizes Sainthood based on blessings, not recognizing that all of us are blessed by Her." Andrianna mused. "Each and every one of us that lives and thrives and loves in Her light, we are all blessed." She explained simply.

"‘So-called’?" Katarina repeated warily.

"Oh, don’t do that shit." Andrianna replied. "There was a time when the Church of the Golden Lady was something to be respected and feared." She replied. "Now the Church of the Golden Lady has become the Church of Angland and the empire is shrinking, not growing." Andrianna complained.

She paused thoughtfully. "But you don’t care about that, and as much as I hate it, I am here for you." She let that trail off for a long moment.

"The Lady no longer speaks to Angland." Andrianna suddenly spoke in a low voice. "There was a time when The Lady spoke, and the Empire listened. The Empire grew and blossomed. But the Church has forgotten how to listen." She paused.

Katarina nodded after a moment. She’d seen it herself. The Church concerned itself with furthering its own interests. In many ways this was benign, even beneficial. Lands conquered did not lay fallow. People were rounded up, put to work. Education was available. Roads were built. The average person lived in comfortable safety, and if they paid the price for that safety in ignorance, all the better. But all it took was one one bishop dipping into funds that did not belong to them to spoil a city. To ignore the pleading cries for healing. To attend balls or banquets or functions instead of feeding the poor.

"Turn around, Katarina."

Katarina turned, and Andrianna stood in front of her, holding one of the ceremonial daggers that were kept for certain rituals. The serpentine blade gleamed in the low candlelight.

"The Lady is offering them a chance to reconcile. This is why you were allowed to bring the Emerald Tablets to this place." She paused, and lifted her head to meet Katarina’s gaze. "You will translate them."

Katarina barked a laugh at this. "I already did." She replied. "It nearly killed me, I think."

Andrianna didn’t say anything to this rebuttal. Katarina blew out an aggravated breath. How was she expected to respond?

"What happens next?" Katarina asked, and Andrianna smirked at her, taking a step forward, lightly tapping the point of the ceremonial dagger with her fingertip.

She rested the blade over Katarina’s heart, and looked up at the Witch Hunter, who suddenly realized she was naked in the Cathedral of the Lily, and this was no dream.

"There is a price to pay to walk the path of Glory." Andrianna warned. "The price is heart’s blood, to show your devotion. You may survive this. It may also be that The Golden Lady will call you to her side tonight." Andrianna warned sharply. "Do you accept the risk?"

Katarina now stood on a hard-packed dirt road that seemingly stretched out from one horizon to the other, ruler-straight. To either side, endless fields of lilies, green and lily-white, here and there a splotch of dark, rich earth beneath. Katarina usually had a fair sense of direction, and could invariably find north on her own without help, but here, wherever she was, there was no sense of direction from the compass in her head.

She halfway raised her hands and let them fall. "Where the fuck is this?" She complained, exasperated.

A woman suddenly stood to her left, She was young and yet ageless, her eyes a comfortable and yet disconcertingly vibrant green. The woman turned towards Katarina at the same time that Katarina turned to face her. Katarina towered over the waiflike girl, who was of a height and build with Sasaki.

The woman’s hair flowed down her shoulders and tumbled down her back in heavy, slow waves of amber and honey. As she smiled warmly up at Katarina, Katarina felt a sense of shock and discomfort at her inability to name her. She was so familiar.

She wore a form-fitting set of plate armor of a creamy opalescent white metal. It was heavily and ornately decorated with gold swirls, scrollwork, crimson lacquer and sacred insignia. It didn’t look the type of armor to be worn in combat, it was beautiful and decorative.

A long sword was belted at her waist, the blade an impossibly slender, delicate thing with gold filigree down the scabbard in baroque patterns. In her hand she held a spear with a blade as long and as broad as any sword.

"Alicia." Katarina breathed, recognizing her from her previous vision. The young woman inclined her head gravely in greeting, but her eyes danced with the mischief and delight that Katarina’s ancestor had captured so eloquently in her diary of the martyr.

A movement to her right, and Katarina turned, instinct moving her left hand to her gunbutt.

A taller woman, similar to Katarina in build, stood to her right, dressed in sleeveless robes of deep red and brilliant white that were heavily embroidered with gold and left her arms bare. She was young and yet ageless, with arms of sculpted muscle, her eyes bound with a brilliantly white strip of cloth that was embroidered with gold along the edges and tails. A braid as thick and as long as Katarina’s draped over one shoulder and hung to her belt.

"Andrianna". Katarina breathed in shock. Andrianna was raised to sainthood long, long ago. The Goddess had blessed Andrianna with healing and given the blind woman her eyes. The woman looked at Katarina with a frown, and folded her muscular arms across her chest, and then glanced to Alicia, who gave her the most imperceptible of nods. Katarina had dreamed of her, too.

Katarina looked back to Alicia, who smiled, raised the hand that was not holding her infamous spear, and spoke.

"I am the Heavenly Angel who has brought the principles of compassion from Innana. I laugh at the future, and I grieve at the past."

Katarina was beside herself with shock, horror and a deep, abiding shame. Nobody spoke the Golden Lady’s name aloud. It was the highest of blasphemies.

Andrianna then unfolded her arms and raised them to the sky.

"I am the Heavenly Angel who has brought the principles of serenity from Innana. I laugh at the past and I grieve over the future." She declared, and Katarina froze, the feeling of ice growing on her heart. This had the sound of some formality, some ritual she was wholly unaware of.

Katarina turned back to Alicia from Andrianna, and was momentarily surprised to see another woman had joined them.

The woman’s hair flowed down her shoulders and tumbled down her back in heavy, slow waves of amber and honey. She was of a height with Katarina, similar in build and conformation, with imperius eyes, regal beauty, and a noble chin.

She wore a form-fitting set of plate armor, a creamy opalescent white metal lacquered in oxblood, heavily decorated with gold swirls, scrollwork, and sacred insignia. A sheathed sword hung at her waist.

"I am the Heavenly Angel who has brought the principles of supremacy from Innana. I ignore the past and I look unflinchingly towards the future." the woman intoned, hands raised.

As she finished this announcement, all three women lowered their arms as one.

A voice spoke behind her, a familiar one that resonated with the memory of thunder, the howl of the tornado, the pitiless shattering of hail.

"As yet, I walk in the clouds, as yet, I am carried with the winds.

Strong am I above and below, therefore provide for me.

For behold, I now salute you.

Let peace be amongst you for I am the Tempest."

Alicia’s eyes widened at the angel’s appearance, Andrianna’s arms came unfolded, and the other woman’s lips parted in shock.

Katarina whirled, and Simurgh stood before her, in her customary slinky dress that clung to her curves lasciviously and hid her feet. Her eyes were filled with roving stormclouds and her hair was as dark and as glossy as a raven’s wing. She smirked at Katarina and gestured with her chin at something beyond Katarina’s shoulder. As Katarina turned back to face Celestine, Simurgh added, "Through indiscriminate death, and through prayer, we shall be returned to our Goddess, and our souls will be at peace. Let the sacrament begin!" She shouted.

The Grand Cathedral was a city in and of itself. The building soared hundreds of feet into the sky; in days of poor weather the entire top was shrouded in clouds. Six massive wings rotated around a massive central spire that reached even further to the heavens. The heart of the Anglish Empire, hundreds of priests, clerics, clerks, and functionaries lived, ate, and worked there every day.

Through the great doors of the Petitioner’s Gate, across green marble floors, interspersed between creamy-white pillars, a petitioner would see hanging banners; banners of every nation and noble House that willingly submitted to the Golden Lady.

Each marble tile on the floor had a carved and embossed scripture around the edges, and in the center of every hexagonal tile was a golden fleur-de-lys. Every stone, every ribbed vault, every lancet window was edged in sacred prayer and holy script, consecrating every square inch of the titanic building to the Goddess of the Dawn, The Lady of Spring, The Teacher, the Singer, the Fertile Mother, the Golden Defender, the Golden Lady, the chosen goddess of the Anglish people.

In the central spire was a raised dais of some red stone. This was the centerpiece carried over from the ancient cathedral; nobody knew where the red stone had come from. Ringing the dais were carved statues of the saints, wingtip to wingtip. Cassandra, Katherine, Alicia, Silviana, Andrianna, Theresa, Veronika, Galatea, and the grandest of them all, Celestine. They surrounded a massive polished golden bowl.

Celestine wasn’t the best because she was the first, she was revered because the Golden Lady raised her to Her side, the very first Living Saint, and so her statue was slightly larger than the others. She raised her legendary Sun-sword Galatine aloft, fist at her side, wings flared outward as if in defiance.

No one alive could recall where the red stone of the dias came from. Likewise, nobody could explain the meaning or purpose of the golden bowl. It was simply a part of the temple. Every church had some tribute, even if dias was red-painted wood and the bowl painted yellow. This golden bowl, however, had proved its function as a brazier. The flames furiously beat the edges, soared up, curled and fell inward, a perpetual flame. Several attempts had been made to extinguish the inferno, mundane and magical, to no avail.

Upstairs, in a closed meeting, the Grand Cardinal and the five remaining Lady Cardinals that comprised the Book of the Golden Lady struggled to come to terms with what had happened.

"It’s the end." Celeste muttered.

The Grand Cardinal gave her a baffled look. "Things are grim, but certainly not-" She began, but Celeste cut her off.

"The prophecy." Celeste spat, pointing at Phoebe, who flinched. "First the holy books will be restored, which have perished even from the beginning, and were taken from the first that lived. And herein has deciphered perfect truth from imperfect falsehood, true religion from false and damnable errors with all arts which are proper to the use of man, the first and sanctified perfection. When it has been revealed; then comes the end." She quoted, referring to the prophesy Phoebe had revealed to them only a scant few days earlier.

Celeste pointed at the box resting on the table and the stack of books next to it. "The Emerald Tablets." She spat. "That damnable Witch Hunter of yours was sitting on them all this time, and not once did she tell any of us!" She stood up. "We could have done something. Made changes. Done our very best to appease the Golden Lady! Now we’re fucked!" She clasped her hand over her heart. The pain hadn’t abated an iota; she still felt the lunging thrust of the sword blade in her dream. She strode over to the books. "She translated them. Of course she did. She’s fucking invulnerable. She can do any fucking thing she wants!" Celeste screeched.

"She- she..." Olivia began, tears trickling down her face. "She wasn’t-" she tried again, and the room fell silent as Olivia burst into tears. By now, everyone had learned of what had happened: Katarina had left their shared apartments, stumblingly, as if sleepwalking. She somehow managed to hoist herself into the golden bowl, which promptly exploded into flames.

Celeste froze and let out a breath. "I’m sorry, Olivia. I just-" She paused. "I’m sorry."

"Am I the only one who has read Ka- The Witch Hunter’s translation?" Yuriko asked curiously. With the exception of Olivia, everyone gave the Yamato woman baffled looks. "They are supposed translations of the Emerald Tablets, the Golden Lady’s Holy Writ." She reminded them. "We have always followed the 'Golden Book of the Lady'. Would it not make sense to acquaint ourselves with The Lady’s proper texts?" She paused. "Depending on the contents, we may need to expend a great deal of resources to bring the world in tune with Her plans."

"Maybe that’s "the end" that we were warned about." Gabrielle muttered.

"I don’t know about that, but we at least know what that blaze is." Yuriko replied. This drew the eye of everyone in the room. Yuriko sighed at the reaction. Really, did any of them read Katarina's work? "It’s the Golden Lady’s Blaze of Glory."

Olivia looked up. "Glory?" She asked. Yuriko nodded.

"That’s something of an explanation, I guess." Olivia mused. "Kat was studying the clerical art of Glory."

Yuriko nodded. It fit with what was written in the books. In the heart of every cathedral, a brazier was to be prepared, and a cleric of Glory would ignite it. As long as faith endured, so would the blaze. Those who came after- those who came to learn the power of Glory would thrust their hand into the flame. Either they would die or they would take some of the flame into themselves. Those that survived would take the flame from the Cathedral, travelling from church to church, bringing the immortal blaze of Glory to burn in the eyes and hearts of all men, a visible reminder of their connection to the Goddess.

"What are we to do with Kat?" Olivia asked.

"What is there to do? The silly bint torched herself. She’s dead." Phoebe replied.

Olivia shook her head. "She brought us the ashes of Saint Alicia, and the journal of one who spent years by her side. She brought us the Reliquary of Saint Andrianna, and Saint Celestine's Crux Rosarius. She brought us the Emerald Tablets of the Golden Lady, something thought to be a myth." She paused. "She brought us the Blaze of Glory." She glared at Celeste. "I know you wanted her disgraced, tortured and killed. You were the one that tried to sell her to the Inquisition, after all." She spat. "But even you can’t deny the truth of these." She lifted the lid off the box and pulled out one of the tablets.

Each tablet was three feet long and about a foot and a half wide, and an inch thick of the purest, clearest flawless emerald. They were lined with row after row of text in solid gold.

Immediately her hand crawled with pain like searing hot insects burrowing under her skin. She quickly replaced the plate in the box and nursed her hand. No one could touch them, or even look upon them without suffering.

Celeste sighed. "Phoebe wanted her dead." She admitted. "The Witch Hunter killed her uncle."

The Grand Cardinal nodded. She knew that, already. "Devon was a witch." She stated flatly. "Katarina did her job." She growled at Phoebe, who was glaring at Celeste.

Phoebe glared at the Grand Cardinal. "She could kill anyone and claim ‘witchcraft’, Grand Cardinal."

"Except that in this case, she was correct, and you have to live with the consequences."

"I already have." Phoebe replied bitterly.

The Grand Cardinal shook her head. "Your little attempt at revenge cost us the High Lady Inquisitor and the first Justicar Witch Hunter we’ve had since the Wolf of Alastor." She paused. "Historically speaking, if someone retrieves a Saint’s Relic, they are by necessity, beatified." She waved her hand at Yuriko. "We have testimony that Katarina lived a life of heroic virtue, and I myself declare her as having lived a life above reproach." She took a long breath and let it out slowly. "And you, Phoebe, would have torn the empire apart for revenge."

"It’s late. I’m tired. So I’m going to declare three things, the last of which this closed meeting adjourned." Olivia was sniffling again, and even Francesca’s throat was tight. "First, I declare Katarina Anointed and Beatified. Henceforth, she will be referred to as Katarina the Blessed. For the recovery of Saint Alicia Silverthorn’s remains, the reliquary that contains the fingerbone of Saint Andrianna, and Saint Celestine's Crux Rosarius; Her Radiance Katarina lon Pavlenko has been elevated to ‘Apostle of the Goddess'. In fifteen years, at the congregation of Doctrine and Faith, we’ll decide whether or not she is worthy of canonization." aside from Olivia, the other Lady Cardinals eyed her with amazement. Certainly it was within the Grand Cardinal’s power to make such pronouncements, but it was wholly unexpected.

"Secondly, I strip you, Phoebe of lands and titles, and do sentence you to die." She looked at the others. "Meeting adjourned."