ARC 3 - HALLOWED

CHAPTER 16 - SOLDIER ON

Kai woke to the morning bell and buried his head beneath his pillow to dampen the ear-splitting sound. Make it stop, he moaned into the feathery cushion. The bell did, of course, but not out of pity for his pain. He’d done it to himself, after all.

It took a few moments of sitting on the edge of the bed for his head to decide it was indeed oriented correctly and then a few moments more for his gut to stop gurgling. Standing brought a sensation much like being punched in the temple after staring at the sun too long. His eyes felt dry and so did his mouth, but at least his vision didn’t carry such a foul taste.

Kai shuffled his way over to the bucket of water in the corner of his room and wet his hands before rubbing them across his forehead, cheeks, and neck. It was cool and refreshing and every bit unhelpful in soothing his headache after the first few seconds. He cursed the empty bottle of rum laying on the table nearby to the bottom of the seas and began to rifle through his bag atop his desk.

“Here we go,” he muttered when he found the bundle of small twigs he’d bought along with the rum.

He untwisted the small bit of wire that held the bits of wood together, then stuck one in his mouth and began to chew while re-fastening the others. It was an old sailors trick, one that his father had taught him long before the taste of alcohol ever crossed his lips, but it worked for other illnesses as well. Finding someone who sold branches of the Momona tree was rare, even though the tree itself was fairly common on the islands. If the mainlanders started to use it as much as the islanders did to stave off the post-drink sour cheeks they might cut down every last one of the things, though.

The sap didn’t taste good, per se, but what it did do well was coat the mouth and take away any taste at all. Kai carefully rolled the twig around his mouth so as not to give himself a splinter as he continued to munch on its fibers with his molars. He dressed in the usual Templar training attire, loose gray pants and a white shirt with short sleeves, but he did so carefully. And slowly. The sap of the Momona helped for taste, but not for the headache itself. If he wasn’t careful he’d end up wasting the sap and puking anyway.

He gave a knock at Raegn’s door, then poked his head in when it earned him no reply. He expected the farling to still be passed out or at least sulking after Tera all but left him, but the room was empty. He made his way to the Great Hall next, but his fiery friend wasn’t there either. Kai let out a weak whine and hung his head towards the ceiling. There was only one other place Raegn would be and it was the last place Kai wanted to go.

With heavy feet, he stomped his way out of the hall and towards what he guessed would be one of the worst mornings he’d had in a long time.

“You’re late,” Raegn said between pants.

The sack full of sand slid from his shoulders and gave a soft thump as it met the hard-packed dirt of the training yard. The farling was already coated in a layer of thin sweat, the tattoos covering his left arm shining in the morning sun as opposed to their normal matte look.

“How are you possibly training?” Kai groaned.

“We agreed. Or don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Kai said while shielding his eyes from the harsh sun. It wasn’t hot, but the brightness seemed to draw the urge to vomit out of him. “I also remember emptying an entire bottle of rum you hardly helped with, which the throbbing in my head is telling me was an unwise decision.”

“Well, hurry up,” Raegn said as he dropped toward the ground and caught himself with his hands. “I’m already two rounds ahead of you.”

“Har har,” Kai chided.

Still, he begrudgingly stepped forward into the rope circle and lowered himself to the dirt. Every push away from the ground sent the liquor left in him sloshing about. Lifting the stones above his skull took far more effort than should have been necessary and he gave the sacks of grain a stern stare before resigning himself to carrying them around the training yard. He made it part of the way down the first stretch before dropping the sack and bending over to heave.

It was a painful wretch filled with bile and the pounding in his head soared to new heights between gasps for air. The rancid smell of his stomach juice on the ground before him did nothing to help and he hurled again. Fucking rum, he thought to himself. It’s always the rum. And what a waste of a Momona twig.

“Don’t worry.” Kai felt a pat on his back and then saw Raegn’s finger point to a patch of soiled dirt another two dozen paces or so further down the training yard. “I didn’t make it much farther.”

Kai chuckled faintly and wiped his mouth on his arm. “Well, that’s reassuring then. I was starting to believe I’d drank the whole bottle myself.” He hiccuped and grimaced at the sour taste that accompanied the spasm. “Guess there’s nothing to do but keep going, eh?”

Raegn gave a stiff nod. “Forward is the only way.”

Chief Inquisitor Crowmere was an unshakable man. Anyone in the Order who knew him, of which there were very few, respected that fact. Erkan, however, had his doubts.

The stout man waited in the intersection of a hallway, leaning against a bit of smoother wall and rubbing his tired forearms from another days’ work in the kitchens. He perked up at the cold expression of a predator crossing by him, almost by instinct alone, and gave a short follow.

“Ah, Chief Inquisitor Crowmere,” he said with a light bow. “I’d hoped to find you here.”

The Chief Inquisitor stopped in the middle of the hallway with hands still clasped behind his back and facing away. “I doubt hope had anything to do with it,” Arnulf said dryly.

“If I might borrow a moment of your time?”

“Drop the formalities, Erkan.” The Chief Inquisitor half-turned so that his profile was now visible. “I do not need your mockery.”

“Stiff as ever, aren’t you Crowbags?” Erkan sneered. “Fine. Take a bit of information to the Highlord for me, will you?

Arnulf raised a single brow. “You’ve had no issue telling him whatever you please before. What need do you have for a messenger?”

“He tires of me lecturing him about his health,” Erkan grumbled with a frustrated wave of his hand. “Won’t listen to much of what I say anymore. Best it come from you, I think.”

If the man were capable of sighing Erkan imagined it would’ve been right then. More of a resigned gesture, for Arnulf hated him but could not fight against an Inquisitor’s purpose. Knowledge was power and for the Chief Inquisitor no crumb of information could go uncollected.

Arnulf turned to face him fully and leaned forward much like a hawk might look down on a mouse. “I’m listening.”

“Templar Edelgard seems to have a renewed…vigor, lately,” Erkan reported.

“And this is noteworthy how?” Arnulf asked with narrowed eyes.

“Well,” Erkan explained, “he’s been seen speaking with an Angel recently. At first I thought perhaps he might be a threat to them, given his past and the fall of Bastion. Now…” he paused, letting the thought linger, “perhaps the opposite.”

Arnulf shook his head disapprovingly. “I fail to see how the demeanor of a single Templar requires the attention of the Highlord.”

“Just tell him you stuffy shit,” Erkan muttered.

“Fine.”

The Chief Inquisitor spun on his heel and continued his rigid stroll down the halls of the Citadel in the general direction of the Highlord’s office. Erkan waited until the hawkish man had rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight before he freed himself of the tension that wound through his body like a spring.

Arnulf’s eyes were astute, the man could truly pick up on even the smallest of indicators that someone was attempting deceit, but though Erkan was out of practice he was not inexperienced. Every word had been chosen carefully, his tone intentional, and his plan set into motion.

Chief Inquisitor Crowmere was an unshakable man. No matter how horrific or joyous the information he heard was, he showed no emotion. Yet it was a lie. Erkan knew it, for no man could stand to hear of what was coming for the Realm and remain indifferent. Arnulf knew something else, something more, of that he was sure. All he had to do was discover it. That could be done by learning what was reported to the Highlord. And what wasn’t.

Tera sighed and closed the book she’d been attempting to read. She’d given up on translating the rest of the coded documents, partially out of fear that the few that remained would be just as useless as the others, but also because it was a reminder of the only mission she’d ever gone on with Raegn. Finding the Void cult was still a priority, but for now she would try different avenues. Reading, it turned out, was just as fruitless an endeavor because no matter how she tried to make her eyes focus on the words they glazed over and her mind went back to the words she’d said the evening prior.

It didn’t even matter how many times she told herself she’d done the right thing; the sickness in her stomach would not lessen and neither would the anchor that pulled against her heart. Perhaps Nora did hate her after all, wishing for Tera to pursue some boy knowing it would end up in pain far worse than anything else she’d ever felt. Was what her sister had wanted? To bury her in emotion and keep her from living up to the family name?

Tera scolded herself for letting the thought cross her mind, then cursed herself for ever trying to live a life more full than her elder sibling. If she had just kept her head down she never would’ve wound up in that tavern.

A bell tolled from the top of the Church, the sound faintly echoing within the dusty air of the library stuffed to the gills with leather-bound tomes and countless scrolls. Tera rose from the table and made her way back to an aisle on the second floor where she’d taken the book from. She could have left it on a desk for an Oracle to sort, but she’d only taken the one text and knew where it went - not much sense in wasting another’s time.

As she rounded the corner and entered the gap between shelves she found that someone was standing very near the spot her book belonged in. It was a woman, that much was clear from the curves of her body, and she wore something akin to an Oracle’s tabard, only with the hood of a long, black cloak over her head. The woman didn’t seem to notice Tera, even as she replaced the book only an arm's length away. Tera snuck a glance out the corner of her eye, then took a bewildered step back.

Tera gawked first at the ageless beauty of the woman’s face, then at the tattoos on the back of her hands peeking out from beneath loose sleeves.

“You’re…” she trailed off, her mind racing too far in front for words to form.

“Yes?” the woman asked, still running her fingers down a line of books.

“One of the Angels,” Tera finished in a hushed tone and with a few glances to see if anyone else was nearby.

Most everyone in the Order had heard the Angels were around, but few actually claimed to have ever seen one. Tera wasn’t even sure if she was actually permitted to speak to them. The woman hadn’t scolded her or immediately sent her away, but still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Yes, I am, child,” the Angel answered.

Tera licked her lips and fought hard to stand her ground. Before her was someone truly blessed by the Divine. When else was she going to get the opportunity to talk to an actual legend?

“What are you, um, what are you doing down here?” she asked.

“Oh, the same as you, I imagine,” the Angel replied idly.

Looking for books on the growth of Elysium? Tera pondered. Doubtful. “I find it hard to believe you have much need for books on history,” she pointed out. “You lived it.”

The Angel smiled warmly without ever looking in Tera’s direction. “True, but much has happened since I last walked these aisles. I seem to remember some things…differently than they appear on these pages.”

“Like what?” Tera asked with a curious frown.

The Angel paused with a book half drawn from the shelf. She seemed to collect herself and finished pulling it from its home to tuck beneath her arm.

“Nothing comes to mind at the moment,” she said, then rounded on Tera. “But perhaps you can help me. What do you know of me, child?”

Tera took a step or two back and brought one arm across her torso to grasp the other. The Angel didn’t look mad, but having its full attention so suddenly was just a bit unsettling.

“W-well,” she said timidly, “judging by the tattoos, you’re Harut, the Angel of Sorcery.”

“And?” the Angel asked with raised brows.

“Um…you were a mage before you ascended? One of the few who survived the cleansing,” Tera said, recalling some of the lessons she’d learned years ago and mixing them with the various books she’d read since.

She winced a bit as the words left her mouth. That piece of history was not looked upon fondly by anyone. Most agreed the Church did what needed to be done, though if anyone were to disagree it would be someone who had been on the other side.

Luckily, Harut’s gaze didn’t hold any anger. “Anything else?”

Tera frowned. “Do you not remember your own past?” she asked.

“Humor me, child,” the Angel said with a gentle wave of her hand.

“Well,” Tera took a slow breath and tried to remember more of her lessons. “You were raised by the Archangel Jophiel, much to everyone’s surprise. It pretty much ended the hunting of mages by the Church, though there weren’t many left at that point. After you were raised, you and the other Angels helped win the Void War.”

And then her mind went blank. Was that all she remembered? “I’m not sure what sort of specifics you’re looking for,” she added hurriedly.

“I’m not quite sure either.” The Angel bit her lip in thought and gave a strand of short, brown hair a quick twirl. Then, upon returning to the present, said, “I am sure, however, that what you’re looking for you won’t find on these shelves.”

Tera shrugged. “Well, there aren’t many maps of the Slants and even fewer of any tunnels. I just need to find—”

“Not what I meant, child.” Tera looked up into the Angel’s eyes and saw that they’d hardened. “Why are you so desperate to hunt down these…cultists?”

“How did you…”

Tera shook her head. Harut was raised by Wisdom, it made sense that the Angel would spend time in the library. She’d been spending a lot of time here as well - it wasn’t much of a reach to assume the Angel had probably seen her several times. Or maybe it was because of who had raised her…Either way, admitting she was surprised would only show weakness. If anything, an Angel would respect strength, would they not?

“Because it’s my duty as a Templar,” Tera said, trying to sound confident.

Harut chuckled. “Lost sight of your dreams, have you?”

“How do you—”

And just as quickly as she’d resolved to appear unphased, she abandoned the thought. It was going to be impossible to hide her curiosity. Could the Angel know of her personal desires? Could she have answers?

“You assume it’s because I was raised by Wisdom?” Harut said, putting an answer to Tera’s thoughts. “That I have some innate ability to know things?”

Tera nodded with eyes wide. The Angel chuckled again and Tera nearly whimpered at the warmth of it. Harut looked older, though not quite enough to have been a mother to someone Tera’s age. Still, her beauty was apparent, her face sincere, and behind it all was power unmatched save for that within the Heaven’s themselves. Is this what Raegn felt when he talked to them? This yearning to follow? It was a feeling of safety but also one of desire - to be a part of the same Light that turned an ordinary human into a savior of the Realm. It took a concentrated effort on Tera’s part to keep her hands from clutching her chest.

“If only it were so easy,” Harut said. “I do not know everything, child, though I can do many things others cannot. For instance, what would you say if I were to offer you the chance to fulfill your dream?”

What, make me a Justicar? Tera supposed it was possible that if an Angel petitioned the Highlord…but was that really her dream? No, it was more than that. What she wanted was the power to earn the legacy her family name carried. Becoming a Justicar was only a step on that path. And if an Angel was capable of instilling power why would they not offer it to everyone?

“This feels a bit like a test…” Tera said with skeptical eyes.

“Oh, it is, child.”

Harut laid a hand on Tera’s shoulder and bent forward some to put their faces on the same level. Odd, that her eyes were grey, Tera noted. Were the rest of the Angel’s like that? It made the woman seem a bit less human, though hardly so.

“Tell me,” Harut asked, “if I could grant you the power you seek, would you take it?”

Yes, Tera thought. Of course I would.

“Are there consequences?” she asked instead.

Harut smiled broadly, face full of pride. “Good, child. Never become so desperate as to blindly grasp at greatness.”

With that, the Angel turned and began to walk away down the aisle of shelves.

What, that was it? A few questions about history and a test of her morality? What if she had said yes?

“Wait!” Tera called.

She didn’t know why she’d even started the conversation in the first place. Maybe because Raegn had spoken to one. Or perhaps, simply because it was an opportunity to talk with an Angel. Whatever the reason, Harut’s test had brought a flicker of hope. She wouldn’t let it slip through her fingers that easily.

Harut paused and gave a cursory look over her shoulder.

“Can you?” Tera asked.

The Angel’s smile returned briefly. “I could, but you wouldn’t be willing to accept the drawbacks.”

“You said you don’t know everything,” Tera countered. “How do you know I wouldn’t be willing?”

“Then I believe you wouldn’t.”

“Well, what are they?” Tera pressed.

Harut cocked her head to the side and took a moment to consider her answer. “You would no longer be able to manifest the Light,” she said after a time.

Tera scowled. “I fail to see how that gives me the power I seek. That’s worse than I am now!”

“Then my belief was correct,” Harut said, turning to leave. Just before she rounded the row of shelves, however, she added, “You might want to try building records.”

Building records? What would that—of course! Tera realized. Every structure in Elysium would denote if it has a basement. There may not be maps, but she could make them! If she drew out all the basements, cellars, and other underground rooms she could begin to infer where the underground passageways were as well. That information plus the reports the Order had might paint a better picture than a supply list ever would!

She set off to comb through the aisles full of record books, but soon found herself distracted during her search by the Angel’s words. Without the Light what power would she have? And did Harut actually know of her desires or had it been a generalized assumption?

Tera shook the thoughts from her mind and started at the beginning of the row of books again. Her ability with the Light, however constrained, had gotten her this far. Her own ability. She would achieve the destiny she sought, no matter if she had to do it alone.