19 :: Crimson Mourning

Nora sat alone on a roof covered in chipped, green tile, watching the sun rise. She gazed out over the city, watching the people start their days. Letting out an exhausted and mournful sigh, she held the little blue pebble up in front of her eyes as she watched it blink out of existence. Just like that. One second, it was there, the next, the space between her fingertips was void. It was in this exact manner that her only lead had found himself with a hole where his heart should have been. It sickened her.

She pulled the gun from her waist and twisted it between her fingers, observing the tarnished filigree. At least the gun didn’t give her any spatial energy. The more she ruminated on the thought that a living human could have become little more than spatial energy inside of her, the more it bothered her. It was primal. One creature devouring another to obtain their energy. Though it wasn’t quite the same, it reminded her of cannibalism. She made a mental note to thank Kurt for adding in the runes that had caused the energy to dissipate. Although he had used the excuse of being worried about the user being unable to control how much energy they absorbed and exploding, Nora wondered if he had come to the same realization that she had.

Still, she had killed a man. It was the first time that she had truly felt that her life was in jeopardy and she had settled things with hot-blooded murder. She had successfully preserved her own life, but at what cost? Not only was that man her best chance at figuring out what kind of danger plagued the Outer Realms, but he was supposed to be a comrade. They were supposed to be on the same team, working towards the same cause.

Nora ran her fingers over the cold, smooth brass of his badge. She flicked open the front cover of the badge and ran her fingers over the gold letters embossed upon black enamel. They read, “Wilbur Iskam, Senior Warden”. The inside of the lid displayed a photograph of the man himself. In the photograph he appeared with his hair neatly combed and beard shaved. A calming smile rested above a cleft chin. There was no trace of the haggard, wild-eyed man who had attacked her.

She put a hand to her forehead and ruffled her hair as she grimaced, biting back tears. She knew how strict the Wardens were when it came to the death of their own. Spatial mages were a sparse commodity, and the Wardens needed all the manpower they could get. Accordingly, they did not take kindly to their already thin numbers being further reduced. If an outsider killed a Warden, they would be executed. If one Warden killed another, the perpetrator would be brought before the ruling council of the Wardens.

Nora wasn’t sure what kind of punishment would be meted out for murder in self defense, but there was one prospect that struck her as being brutally ironic. It was the possibility that even if she managed to make it home, the council may sentence her to exile in the Outer Realms. It wouldn't make sense for them to imprison her for an accident when they were already short on hands, but exile in the Outer Realms would allow her to continue working even while she was being punished. There, she would have plenty of time to investigate the irregularities in this region, but she would have to give up on the search for her parents.

It was a sick joke, but if that was the council's ruling, then she would have no choice but to abide by it. Frustration boiled within her as the tears resting in the corners of her eyes swelled. In a matter of minutes, her situation had gone from bleak to abysmal. If only she could skip through time instead of space. Then none of this would have happened. Unfortunately for her, nobody could control time. It was not a power meant for man. A couple of tears leaked down the sides of her cheeks and she buried her head in the crook of her arm in an attempt to dam them. Crying wouldn't help anything but the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. She should never have come to this world.

She had to though, and with that realization came a bit of relief. She had come here for information, and if Wilbur himself couldn't help her, she would have to search his office like she had done before. It sounded like he had some idea of what was behind the disappearances. Nora knew that she couldn't just stop here. She rubbed her eyes once more and pulled her hood back over her head. As long as she kept moving forward, somehow things would be okay.

As she moved to climb down from the roof, she paused. A whole crowd of people had seen her kill a man while wearing this cloak last night. They didn't seem particularly upset about it, but the last thing Nora needed was to be tripped up by local law enforcement. She pulled off the cloak and placed out back within her storage dimension. The clothing here was all so bright that she would look out of place in just a white blouse and black pants. She pulled a piece of clothing from the storage dimension. The red fabric glowed in the light of the morning sun. She didn't feel worthy of wearing the uniform after the whole catastrophe with Wilbur, but it was her best chance at fitting in.

She pulled the robe on over her head. The thick, flowing, fabric fell to her upper calf. Another flap of fabric covered her shoulders, coming up into a hooded cowl. The sleeves reached all the way to her wrists. The ends were lined with buttons, making for a tight fit along her forearms. The rest of the robe was comfortable and easy to move in. The insides were lined with pockets. Nora traced the entrance of a pocket at her waist. Finally finding purchase, she slipped Wilbur’s badge inside. She had grabbed it on a whim and didn’t really know what to do with it, but the slight weight at her waist was barely noticeable, so she figured she might as well hold onto it. It tapped softly against her hip as she began to make her way down the street.

The streets in the morning were even more raucous than Nora had found them last night. She quickly became swept up in the river of bobbing heads and found herself drifting along with their flow. Not having any idea where to go, there was little point in fighting the current. She meandered along the narrow streets, taking in the sights and sounds. Her stomach grumbled with each passing of one of the little booths peddling steamed meat. Nora couldn’t remember the last time she had a decent meal.

After nearly half a day of wandering, Nora came across a promising sight. The cramped, rundown buildings that lined each street began to thin. Little alleys began to appear between them. The quality of buildings also began to improve little by little, until the street opened up into a large courtyard. Here Nora spotted the first trees that she’d seen since arriving in this realm. The stone courtyard was broken into fragments by small patches of foliage framed by benches. At the far side of the courtyard rested a large, imposing building composed of large blocks of plain white stone.

Nora took note of the narrow entrance. A desk set into the wall just to the side of the door ensured that it would be impossible to make it inside the building without being seen. Nora hadn’t a clue what kind of identification would be required to gain entrance. She hid herself in the shade of one of the courtyard’s trees and slipped away into her pocket dimension. Once inside, she had little difficulty making her way past the front desk. She returned herself to this world’s natural plane as she began to explore the school.

Though there didn’t seem to be any kind of dress code amongst the students, as she passed through the halls, she began to notice a large number of youth, as well as adults, dressed in red. Eventually, she came across a large number of the crimson-clad party ringed around a normal-looking office door. As Nora witnessed them arranging flowers and lighting candles, she reached a shocking truth. Although it was not common, there were times when Wardens chose to take up a legitimate position within the schools where they kept their offices. Sometimes it was for the sake of convenience in maintaining a cover, other times it was due to a perceived problem in the educational system of the realms that they governed.

Regardless of the motive, there was no denying that Wilbur Iskam had been a beloved member of the faculty at this school. Burning regret began to pool in Nora’s stomach as she turned away from the mourners. There was no way for her to enter with them present, so she found a nearby bench and made herself comfortable. She pulled a random notebook from her bag and began to feign interest in the contents of its pages.

She solemnly observed the group of mourners as she awaited their departure. Most of them formed a partial circle around the door. The ones nearer to the center seemed to be the most distraught. A couple of outliers kept their distance and appeared to be more angry than upset. Several of them whispered amongst themselves, their eyes darting about furtively. As Nora glanced back and forth between the pages and the tearful crowd, her eyes met with one of the male students in the group of outliers. She quickly averted her gaze, but in her periphery she could see the student gesturing at her to his peers.

Nora readied herself to leave, folding the notebook closed and stuffing it beneath her arm, but before she could make her escape, the student began to approach her. Pretending not to take notice of the boy, Nora hid her face beneath her curtain of bangs as she hustled down the hallway. She didn’t make it ten steps before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” a voice called out behind her. “You’re here for Professor Iskam, aren’t you? Come with me.” The boy commanded in the same Latin-based dialect that Iskam himself had spoken to Nora in the previous day.

She paused and tilted her head back at the boy in confusion, looking deep into his eyes for any sign of intent. His stare was firm, but not threatening. His eyes were a dark, stormy blue, and he wore chin-length, maroon hair up in a low knot on the back of his head. A few pieces of bang fell forward and loosely framed his face. Nora flinched as he grabbed her by the wrist, but allowed herself to be led into one of the empty classrooms that bordered the hall. The burgundy-haired student followed her inside, along with several other students that Nora recognized from the nervous-looking group that had been waiting outside Iskam’s office.

“You’re one of the Professor’s comrades, right?” the boy asserted, looking to her for acknowledgment. Nora thought for a moment before nodding her head in confirmation. If it came to it, she could always disappear back into her pocket dimension. She wanted to hear what these kids had to say.

“Let’s see your badge then,” he stated, raising a hand expectantly. Nora pulled her badge from within her breast pocket and opened it for him to see. The design was identical to Iskam’s, except that the gold text within her badge read “Nora Carlisle, Junior Warden” and the photograph within the lid was her own. The boy observed it closely before confirming its legitimacy with a short nod to his peers.

“You’re early,” the boy began, “Professor Iskam said that his colleagues wouldn’t hear of his passing until the 15th.”

“I had business with him,” Nora replied. “I went looking for him on my own accord, but it seems that I was too late. According to you, it sounds like Iskam was expecting to die. Who are you and what can you tell me about his situation?”

“We are a group of students who received special lessons from Professor Iskam,” the boy began to explain, seating himself on the surface of one of the classroom’s many desks. “The Professor took us on as a ‘personal project’ when the school was on the verge of expelling us. It started out as him just helping us with our studies, but eventually he started teaching us more. He told us about different worlds and showed us magic beyond comprehension. He said that he wanted us to help him investigate the Church of the Mother and started to train us.”

“What is the Church of the Mother?” Nora interjected.

“They’re one of those new religions that crop up every few years. Normally, the government would shut them down. Religion is outlawed, and the State is serious about keeping people from worshiping. They’ve been having a hard time with the Church of the Mother though. They can never seem to track them down. Every time a government agent manages to infiltrate their ranks, they end up disappearing. It’s started to get pretty troubling. A lot of people want the Church to disband, but they just keep growing. The Professor didn’t really tell us much about it, but he was terrified of them. He said that if things continued, the Church was going to come after him. That was why he wanted us to be ready in case he was suddenly killed. He said that his superiors wouldn’t take him seriously until he was dead, so until they listened, we were on our own. He made damn sure that we would be there to greet whoever came from his organization to check in on him. He told us everything we would need to know to identify them. You were early though, so it threw us off.”

Nora bit her thumb as she buried herself in thought. If these kids were telling the truth, then the reason why Iskam had attacked her was because he believed that she was a member of this Church that had come to kill him, but the only reason he would have known where to find her was if he had felt her spatial disturbance. If this Church was associated with spatial disturbances, then there was serious trouble afoot in this realm. This Church of the Mother was probably responsible for whatever was causing the Wardens in the Outer Realms to disappear. If Nora wanted to understand the nature of the danger she faced, she would have to get closer to this Church.

“And what did Iskam intend for you to do after he was dead?” Nora asked the group of students. “Why did he instruct you to reach out to his colleagues?”

“Professor Iskam wanted that Church destroyed,” the boy answered with determination. “He was a strange man and didn’t always make sense, but all of us here owed him a great deal. We will continue to investigate the Church of the Mother and we will destroy them regardless of whether or not we receive the assistance of Professor Iskam’s organization.”

“Good,” Nora smiled, “If I’m going to be of any help, I’ll need access to Iskam’s office. Let’s start by getting rid of that crowd.”