(Jacob, 17)

Setting down the tome, I stretch my arms and back in an unprincely manner, stretching my legs as well. At the same time, I let out an unprincely stretch groan. These are things I normally would not do if others are around, but I was alone when I began.

Unfortunately, Lina chose to enter just as I started this, and once the stretch begins, I cannot stop it of my own accord. Finishing the stretch, I raise an eyebrow at Lina, setting my hands on the tome in front of me.

"You look overwhelmed," she comments as she walks over.

"Do I really look that bad?" I ask.

"Yes," she answers.

"Ever since Henry left last week," I say. "I have been busy with things."

Henry stayed here for four days, then took a gate back to Mar. The train, meanwhile, has remained opened for business, performing a single trip from here to Mar each day. There seems to be plans to open up a second train to run opposite of it, the tracks already built for the trains to pass each other at specific locations.

None of that deals with my work, though, and I have remained busy as a result. Just some of my duties these last four days include finalizing the paperwork and plans for Greenmont Academy, preparing for the summer solstice festival, preparing for the Festival of the Dragon, communicating with various nations regarding the war, and keeping up with my own training.

"You missed lunch with Lord Evrets," she tells me.

"I did?" I ask, then check the time. "It appears I did."

"Papa excused you," she tells me. "He said you were quite busy with an important matter, though Lord Evrets still seemed upset by your absence."

"I am the Crown Prince," I say. "He is a duke who believes our family should not rule. My presence was not required in any way, even if I am to inherit the throne. Papa was unaware of what I am doing, what did he say?"

"Just that it was something important," Lina tells me. "What are you doing?"

"Research troubling things," I answer.

"The Crimson Pearl?" She asks.

"No," I answer. "Something I began tracking a few years ago. Do not worry about it, Lina. How did lunch with the duke go?"

"Annoying, as always," she answers. "Especially with the subtle remarks about your absence. Papa was clearly annoyed, and he may ask you what you were doing during it."

"Forgetting about lunch entirely," I answer.

"It appears so," she says. "Did Jason speak with you?"

"About Niko's birthday?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Yes, he did," I answer. "Did he request your assistance with that?"

"He did," she answers. "I have never performed a surprise party before, though I understand why he wishes to do so. Niko will be delighted when he finds out what we are all planning for him."

"Yes," I say, then stand. "Anyway, Lina, I was preparing to leave on some business. I may be gone for a few hours. Would you mind informing Tasha that I may be a few minutes late to our dinner?"

"I would not mind at all," she answers. "I planned on visiting her shortly, anyway. It has been awhile since she and I had time to ourselves."

"Thank you," I smile.

"I will see you later, then," Lina smiles, then leaves.

I stretch once more, then pick up the tome and papers relating to this issue from my desk, sending them into my spatial storage. Lina did not appear to notice their content, which makes me glad. This is not something I wish for her to know about before it is dealt with.

The fewer, the better.

Closing my eyes, I focus on a place I have not been to since I was little, making sure I visualize it properly as I open up a gate. Then, I step through it and onto the stone tiles making up the ground in front of a temple.

I close the gate as I look at the temple. The building is ancient, worn smooth by wind and time, the stained glass mosaics making up the windows glittering in the afternoon sun. The great wooden doors stand open, allowing free access inside of the temple.

A quick check reveals that Griffin Alpha did not follow me, likely still playing with the griffin cub. That grants me some relief, as I do not want what I am doing here reported back to Jason, which the stuffie golem would no doubt do.

The temple itself takes an hour to reach by foot from the nearest town, resting near the edge of a forest. It sees little use today, though I hear that centuries ago, every Sunday found it packed with worshipers.

Walking into the temple, I pass by the pews, approaching the altar. Behind it is a large, stained-glass window depicting a pair of gods, with silver hair and eyes, silver marks upon their bodies. One male, the other female, both timeless in appearance. Twin gods, and even after five years, I have yet to regain any memories of them from the war. That means someone likely fabricated them based on the known appearances of the gods.

Especially as Enaveka erased all knowledge of the war that he could. With that went the knowledge of the gods as well.

The temple is illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the windows, though at night, candles will be lit along the walls and upon the altar. Right now, the candles are melted low, from several nights of burning.

An old man in white and blue priest's robes stands behind the altar, back to me as he works on something on a table behind it.

"I will be with you in just a moment," he tells me.

"That is fine," I say.

I wait a few moments, simply watching him, then the old man turns around and appraises me. His stole is dark blue, with white ends and a silver crest on either end of it, the Star of the Magi hanging from around his neck.

"Hello, young man," he greets me. "It is not often I see someone new here."

Dressed as simply as I am right now, it would be easy for anyone who did not see me regularly to mistake me for a normal citizen of Varil.

"I came seeking advice regarding something," I answer. "Not something of the spirit, but something relating to information I believe you may have that does not relate to religion."

"Ah," he says. "Well, were it for the spirit, young man, I would be more than willing to offer you any advice possible. That is my area of expertise. I am a priest before all things, and it is my duty to help guide lost souls in finding their purpose."

"Yes," I answer. "This is a more personal situation. I know your custom of putting people to work around the temple if they desire something more than spiritual guidance, and am willing to do so if you wish for that."

"What is it regarding?" He asks. "Are you sure it is something that I may offer guidance on for the spirit?"

"It does relate to a decision I must make," I tell him. "But I cannot make the decision without information that you, and you alone, might hold. It does not relate to any religion."

"Hm," he muses as he walks around the altar. "What religion do you follow, young man?"

"The Church of Enaveka," I tell him. "I know you dislike it as well, as they follow the teachings of a supposed prophet, worshiping the Kings and Queens of Power rather than any god."

"I may dislike them," he tells me. "But their morals are in the right place. Everyone has their own beliefs. What is the information you seek? I will decide after you tell me whether you should work for it or not, young man."

"Everything you know about the Cult of the Risen Queen."

Instantly, fury fills his face and he tackles me, pushing me to the ground with his hands around my throat, squeezing tightly.

"Who are you?" He growls in a low voice, a knee on my stomach. "Who sent you? What do you want with me? Why are you bringing them up? Don't think you can escape unscathed, boy, I may look like an old man of sixty-eight, but I'm still middle indigo."

Black spots swim in my vision, and while I could break out of his grip if I truly wanted to, I do not wish to hurt this priest. Instead, I let him choke me until he realizes that I cannot breathe properly. At that point, he relaxes his grip, but only enough so that I may breathe.

"Answer my questions," he growls, his voice still low.

"My name," I gasp for air, still struggling to breathe a little as I talk. "Is Jake. And they attacked… someone… in my… family. I heard… you know about… them."

He stares into my eyes, and I know he is reading my surface emotions as I struggle to breathe properly in his grip. The protective anklet around my left ankle prevents more than that, though he probably is not looking further.

"You are honest," he releases my neck and stands, helping me to my feet. "I apologize for my reaction, Jake. I have personal issues with them, and do not normally act that way. It was unbecoming of me as a priest of the Church of the Twin Gods."

"I expected a similar reaction," I admit. "I heard about your daughter while looking into information regarding them. I heard about how much you loved her, and what happened to her. I also heard about what you did after the incident. I knew the risk I took coming here."

The priest moves to a pew and sits down as I rub my throat, applying holy magic to it. He gives me a strange look at that, and I realize as I finish healing my throat why. Most people my age still need to use incantations to cast spells and struggle to perform any form of healing magic on themselves even with one.

Yet I cast a holy spell on myself without the ability to see the wound, and the budding bruising and red marks no doubt faded quite fast.

"I am part of a rough training group," I tell him. "We all quickly learned to use holy magic and have used it enough times to result in all of us possessing higher affinities for it than normal. I am in the green magical power levels as well, so some slight bruising is not too difficult, especially with how familiar it is to me."

"I see," he says. "My apologies once again, Jake. The very mention of the Cult of the Risen Queen infuriates me, and the request reopened old wounds."

"Because of what happened to your daughter," I nod. "I apologize for that, sir. However, I genuinely do wish to know everything you know regarding them. You are considered the expert on them."

"The expert," he says. "And the man who slayed every last member of it in an attempt to find his daughter."

"After they kidnapped her five years ago," I nod. "They held her for eleven months before killing her, and when her body was found, you wiped out every last known location of theirs."

"And every last member," he nods, looking up to the window depicting this church's patron gods. "It was an act unbecoming of a priest of the Church of the Twin Gods, and a burden I have borne these last four years."

He looks at me, appraising me.

"You are what, sixteen, seventeen?" He asks.

"Seventeen," I answer.

"You were still just a boy when it happened," he says. "You said a family member of yours was attacked by them? Yet you have interest in them now, four years after they have been destroyed?"

"I have reason to believe they may not have been fully wiped out," I tell him. "Operating in secret. I noticed some irregularities a few years ago, and when I looked into it, I thought them strange. When looking into things it might be, I noticed some alignments with actions of the Cult of the Risen Queen."

"If they were still around," he says. "I would know. Whatever information I give you, you will likely find to be proof of this."

"That is part of why I wanted to speak with you," I tell him. "You alone would be capable of telling me what I need to know in order to know for sure whether or not it really is the Cult of the Risen Queen."

"Sit," he indicates beside him, so I sit on the pew. "The Cult of the Risen Queen… they worship a queen who died a few centuries ago. Or more accurately, a queen who disappeared without a trace. According to their belief, she is reborn, lives until she is thirty years old, then disappears, only to be reborn again. They seek out women or girls of the appropriate age with certain personality traits. They test them for magical power and magical affinities, looking specifically for ones of light, wind, and earth and those with strong magical power."

"Their belief makes no sense, though," I say.

"That is how it is with cults," he says. "They brainwash their lesser members to believe what they say with their body, heart, and mind in order to control them. Reincarnation does not work that way, but they push it anyway because it serves their purpose."

"The queen they worship," I say. "She was not a foul queen, either, was she?"

"No," he answers. "She was not. From the stories I heard, Queen Theresa was actually quite the gentle lady. But the Cult of the Risen Queen have twisted her into a force of power to be feared, changed the tales to suit their needs."

"Something I learned a few years ago," I say. "Is that every now and then, someone shows up in a town, looking for a young girl with those affinities who has already begun using magic, despite being an infant or toddler. A man or a woman, it changes every time I receive a report. They are seeking one who would be four or five right now."

"Which falls into place," he says. "With how old the new Risen Queen's incarnation would be."

"Correct," I say. "They have yet to find one, though they still search anyway. Another connection I noticed was that they often appear in towns that sometimes have a sudden, high discovery of magic crystals of those elements or a sudden increase in monsters more in-tune with those elements."

"Another thing the cult looked for," he nods. "Did they make purchases?"

"Each time," I confirm. "It took me some time to dig out the records, but I did learn that they usually purchase those crystals or parts of the monsters. I found that difficult, though, as they are more active in the western kingdoms."

"Yes," he nods. "That is where the Cult of the Risen Queen is based out of, and where they believe she is born into each cycle. However, they possess a presence here in Varil as well, as a section of our eastern territory was once part of her kingdom."

"Why did they target your daughter?" I ask.

"She stood in their way," he answers. "She led a crusade against them and several other cults, despite being as weak as she was. It horrifies me to think of what they must have done to her, before they killed her. How well did you know the family member you believe they killed?"

"Quite well," I answer. "We were rather close, though they killed her before your rampage. I only became aware of the potential for them to still exist a few years ago due to coming across some rumors."

"I see," he tells me. "It does sound like you may be on to something, Jake. I know it can be difficult to be taken seriously without any influence of your own. If you give me everything you have that may show they are still around, I can pass it on to someone I know in the royal palace, though it may take a couple of weeks for the message to journey there. Due to my actions four years ago, they will take my word seriously when I say there is cause for it. However, I would like to look over what you have first, to make sure."

"One of my close friends is a Royal Slayer," I tell him. "He does not know about this personal quest of mine, though if I tell him, he will pass the message on to the appropriate people. I wanted to be sure first, though, which is why I came here."

"I see," he says. "Do you have with you records that led you to believe this? If so, I will look it over."

"I do," I open up my spatial storage and pull out my tome. "This is everything I have on the situation. If you would look it over now, I would be more than willing to help you prepare for the service tomorrow."

"My church is a little different than those you have likely been in," he tells me as he accepts the tome. "But there are a few things you may help with. In the vestry, you will find the garb for acolytes. In the room beyond, there is a list of duties acolytes are to perform. Search for the Felday set. I don't normally have an acolyte helping me, but I keep the duty list just in case. If you do not understand the instruction, then skip it."

"I will do my best to assist you," I tell him, then walk to the vestry, a room off the sanctuary.

Inside, I strip down and put my clothes away, grabbing a pair of white pants from the shelf, pulling them on. Normally, I would remove all jewelry as well, but I leave on the two anklets I wear for protection. Chances are quite high Jason would know if the one protecting against the Crimson Pearl were removed, and I feel certain the Royal Guard has a way of knowing if the standard one for someone of my status is removed.

Once the pants are on, I pull on a pair of white boots, making sure the pant legs cover the tops of the boots. Then, I pull on the white robe, typing the white rope cincture around my waist. The last part takes me a minute, though, as I was a young boy the last time I wore an acolyte's garb.

Finally, I pick up the twelve-pointed, stained-glass star fixed to a white leather cord and pull it on around my neck, pulling the hood of the robe through the cord.

Ready, I step into the next room and examine the list. One of the easier things to do will be to replace the candles, which is on the list for if they are shorter than three inches. All of the ones outside looked as if they were, so I locate the box of the thick candles, then bring it out to the front, replacing each candle.

There turns out to be a lot more candles in here than I expected, and the task takes me nearly half an hour. The priest has left, likely to his office to study my records.

I finish this task, then return to the list and look for another duty to perform. The sanctuary already looks swept, the pews cleaned. The priest likely performed those duties earlier. Other than those, everything on the list is something I know how to do and do not appear to have been performed, so I begin working, preparing the temple for the service tomorrow.

Even if the chances are low of someone attending, the priest keeps this temple ready for guests.

A few hours into my work, a woman enters the temple, approaching me with a slight look of confusion on her face. A boy of maybe five or six holds her hand, a cloak wrapped around him. His eyes tell me of the pain he feels at the moment.

"I do not recognize you," she says. "Did Priest Alexander take on a new acolyte?"

"No," I answer. "I am simply helping around the temple as he assists me with something. Did you need him?"

"Yes," she answers. "My son fell and hurt himself, and I was hoping Priest Alexander would be willing to take a look at the injury. He has performed healings before. I normally wouldn't bother him for a healing, but my son is in a lot of pain from the injury, so I thought it best to see if he would look at it."

"You do not normally bother him for a healing?" I ask.

"The church exists to help and heal," she says. "But if we come to him for every injury and illness, it may reflect poorly on us to the gods, telling them that we only see him as an agent for serving us, not them. The injury this time is a little worse than normal, though."

"I know some healing spells," I crouch in front of the boy. "May I see where it hurts?"

"It's his arm," his mama tells me as he hides behind her legs. "I didn't think there was much wrong with it after he fell, but I noticed after a couple of hours he wasn't using it, and when he bumped it into the chair, he let out a yelp."

"Well, then," I smile at the boy. "Did you try toughing out the pain?"

He does not respond.

"How did you fall?" I ask.

"He was climbing the fence to the farm," she tells me. "That's part of why I didn't think the injury was that bad, the fall wasn't too great."

"When I was around your age," I tell him. "I climbed many things. I even kept climbing into a kitchen through a window so that I could steal some pies. The cook chased me out of there with a ladle almost every day at one point. I only managed to steal a pie maybe once every three or four attempts, though. My papa would swat my butt after, then put me in time-out. I remember how much that hurt, and I can imagine your arm hurts even more than a spanking, yes?"

The boy nods.

"Let me take a look at the arm," I tell him. "I might be able to fix it up, so that we do not need to disturb the priest. I even have some sweets I can give you for being brave, I know you feel shy because you do not know me."

The boy still seems uncertain, but his mama encourages him to show me his arm. The boy steps out from around her and pulls his cloak to the side with his right arm, showing me his left, which is exposed due to him not wearing a tunic. It has some bandages on it, and I carefully remove those, hearing him hiss in pain at the light touch. More than the scrapes on his arm should cause.

Adjusting my scanning spell, I realize he broke his arm a little above his elbow. He was probably in too much pain to put on a tunic to come to the temple, so he pulled on the cloak instead, as it did not involve putting the arm through a sleeve.

Closing my eyes, I think back to what Jason and Tasha both taught me regarding healing broken bones as I lightly trace the area with my fingers.

"This will hurt more than it does right now," I tell the boy. "But when I finish, the pain will go away, I promise. So be brave for me, okay?"

I sense him nod through the scanning spell, then I begin gently working the bone back into place as I apply holy magic to the area, hearing him whimper in pain as I do. It hurts me to hear that, but I know everything will turn out better in the end. The cuts on his arm heal from my spell, and once I set the bone again, I begin performing the spell to mend bones.

Jason and Tasha would no doubt heal him much faster than I do, but my affinity is not with holy magics. I take around three minutes to finish fixing his bone, then apply more holy magic to the affected area to soothe his pain.

"Does that feel better?" I ask him as I release his arm, and he nods, the cloak falling back into place, covering him once more. I adjust my scanning spell back to normal, the more precise one drains me mentally. "I feel glad to hear that. For being a brave young man, I have a reward for you."

I open up my spatial storage and pull out a small package of chocolate, which I hand to him. It quickly disappears under his cloak, a big smile on his face.

"Thank you," his mama says as I stand up. "He normally won't let anyone but me or Priest Alexander look at his injuries."

"I am glad to have helped," I say, then look at the boy again. "Next time you fall and hurt yourself bad enough you cannot use your arm, make sure to tell your mama, okay?"

He nods, then his mama thanks me again before leaving.

"That was an excellent healing spell," the priest says, and I look at him, finding him standing at the entrance to his office with the tome in his hands. "Not many young adults can heal a broken bone in just a few minutes. What sort of training group is rough enough for you to need to learn that?"

"My girlfriend taught me," I tell him. "Not the training group. She is a far better healer than me, with an affinity for holy magic that rivals even the royal healers'. Were she the one healing him, it would take only seconds to fix an arm broken that cleanly. She even knows how to use magic to set the bone."

"I see," he holds up the tome. "This log, Jake… it contains information that goes above what a mere man could obtain. If your friend in the Royal Slayers has been abusing his status to help you investigate, then I want to warn both of you against it."

"I have performed the investigation myself," I tell him. "As I said, he is unaware of it."

"Then how do you have access to this information?" He asks. "Some of these things in here could only be obtained by someone with higher authority."

I did not realize he would notice something like that. The thought that some of the information I recorded in there could not be obtained easily did not cross my mind before. It appears I must reveal who I am to him.

"By abusing my own authority," I tell him. "Grandpapa."

The priest stares at me for several long moments, then his eyes widen.

"Jacob," he says, then rushes over to me, dropping the tome on the pew beside me before wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight. "You have grown so much, Jacob. I didn't recognize you."

"That was the intent," I tell him. "Though I suppose I should have told you from the start."

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Jacob," he says, and I can hear the sorrow in his voice. "I'm truly sorry."

"Do not worry about it, Grandpapa," I tell him. "No one is meant to know I am here, which is why I did not tell you who I was."

"Does your papa know?" He asks.

"No," I answer. "Only my own intelligence network even knows about this investigation I have held these last few years. There is a chance that Jason Jeshema, the adoptive son of the Sages, knows my location, considering the golem he set to guarding me has not come to keep watch, but I doubt he would have informed anyone."

I hug my grandpapa back, then we release each other, and he picks up the tome, handing it back to me.

"Jacob," he says as I send the tome back into my spatial storage. "From what you have recorded, I can confirm that it matches up with what I know about the Cult of the Risen Queen. Your records indicate that there may only be four or five members?"

"Yes," I nod. "From what I can tell, they have found it difficult to convince others to join them. They are merely remnants, and none of the former leaders. They are merely brainwashed people attempting to continue the duties of the cult, rather than those who know how others were actually recruited."

"That is my assessment as well," he tells me. "What will you do now, knowing it likely is the cult which killed your mama?"

"Bring them to justice, as they should be," I answer. "They are members of a cult which committed many crimes, including killing the queen. They will be treated as such."

I will kill every last one of them. Something not recorded in the tome is that I believe one of them to be one of the people responsible for what Mama went through at their hands. If it turns out to be true, then he will suffer a death worthy of crossing a Magus.

"I see," Grandpapa tells me. "I will leave this to you, Jacob."

"Thank you," I tell him. "And Grandpapa? Please, call me Jake when I am here. I would rather keep my identity somewhat hidden."

"You plan on returning?" He asks.

"I do," I tell him. "It has been far too long since I last visited you. Yes, Papa has largely prevented it, but I never made an effort to. I did miss coming to this temple and listening to the stories you told."

"I have plenty more to tell you, too," he smiles. "Perhaps I can change your mind about which religion you follow, too. It is better to serve the gods than to worship mortal men and women."

"It is, indeed," I tell him, knowing he will never change my mind.

After all, I am a god. Or at least, my true self is. So it makes sense I would pay more attention to the religion which worships myself and my friends.

"Anyway," I tell him. "I should probably change and leave. There is something else I wish to do. Do you mind if I return in an hour or two for dinner?"

"I do not mind at all," he tells me with a smile. "It would be nice to have dinner with you once more, Jake."

I smile, then walk to the vestry to change.