“You okay?” Aiden asked.
“Intact,” Pacian whispered, his voice drained of energy. “Damn thing cut me a few times while I was saving your backside.”
“I’m not unappreciative,” Aiden mumbled, managing a slight grin. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“What about him?” Pacian said, looking at Corvyn.
“I’ll take him back upstairs. The poor chap really has lost his marbles,” Aiden sighed, “it’s kind of hard to blame him for this.”
“I’m not having any trouble,” Pacian remarked dryly as Aiden helped him back to his feet, before heading over to see if he could move the patriarch.
“Alright Your Eminence, time to go back upstairs,” Aiden said in soothing tones so as not to startle the old man. He proved to be pleasantly compliant as Aiden set down the heavy tome, and with both hands lifted the frail old man back to his feet. With the tome under one arm and the old priest half-carried in the other, Aiden and Pace made their way back upstairs to see first-hand the carnage wrought upon the remains of Fairloch’s ancient priesthood.
The corpses were scattered about in various states of dismemberment, and it would take many days of work to put the pieces back together again. Aiden did not envy whoever had that task, though it wasn’t something he was overly concerned about either. Lying in amongst them was Sir William, with Nellise crouched next to him tending to his numerous injuries. Valennia remained standing despite sporting her own injuries.
“Is he going to be okay?” Aiden asked as they slowly made their way onto the scene.
“He is strong to still be drawing breath,” the Akoran warrior remarked in a tight voice. “But if he had any skill, he wouldn’t be in this position to begin with.”
“He chose to risk his own life to save ours,” Nellise countered, continuing to work on bandaging the knight’s wounds while she talked.
“It was the least I could do,” Sir William added in a strained voice. “I have no regrets about my decision.” Upon noticing that Aiden was carrying his old friend, the knight’s expression lit up. “Corvyn! I’m glad to see you’re still amongst the living, so to speak.” Corvyn seemed to react a little to the mention of his name, before drifting away again. “Fear not old friend, you will be cared for,” Sir William added in a melancholy whisper before resting his head on the ground once more.
With Valennia’s help, Sir William was carefully picked up and guided to the exit. The relief Aiden felt upon finally being back in the sunlight was palpable. Only moments after returning to the cathedral proper, several younger clerics came over to relieve him of his burdens, taking away the old priest as well as the forbidden tome.
Nellise and Valennia carefully lowered Sir William onto an unoccupied bench, and then the young woman began her whispered prayers of healing. Aiden slumped down onto a nearby seat and stared up at the distant ceiling, trying to process the events of the last hour. Of all the things he had witnessed since leaving home, the eerie, animated remains of the dead rising from their graves had been the most terrifying and not something he would care to see again. Indeed, his old nightmare would have some powerful new competition after he closed his eyes at night.
Presently, he gazed around the cathedral and saw Ashwyn supervising the younger priests as they headed inside the mausoleum to begin the clean-up. Next to the archon was another old priest, clean-shaven and wearing elaborate, gold-trimmed robes.
Unlike Corvyn, this man’s eyes still seemed vibrant and alert, despite the tall staff he leaned upon. He smiled back under Aiden’s unintentional scrutiny, and walked towards him with Ashwyn following one step behind out of respect. Although he had never met the man, Aiden knew that he could only be looking upon the Archieros of the Church of Aielund.
“Corvyn, my old friend, you have my deepest sympathies,” he said in a strong voice to the patriarch, who seemed to recognise the high priest.
“I thought the King would like to see his old friend again,” Corvyn mumbled. “It has been so very long for both of them.” Aiden raised an eyebrow at this statement, but the archieros only smiled with understanding.
“You are tired and in need of care,” he offered in quiet sympathy. “I suspect in your more lucid moments you may regret the actions you have taken today. Sleep now,” he added with compassion, and touched the patriarch on the forehead with one hand. To Aiden’s astonishment, the old priest fell into the hands of the other priests, who carried the comatose man out of the main hall.
“Aiden, may I present His Holiness, Archieros Keenan Cormac,” Ashwyn said as the two senior priests turned their attentions to the small group. This close to the archieros, Aiden felt a certain lightness to the air, as if merely being in his presence was a blessing to those around him. From what could be seen under the white hood of his robe, the man was completely bald and his weathered features seemed to indicate his age was somewhere in his seventies. In spite of this, he still had a spring in his step.
“He—Hello,” Aiden stammered, feeling awkward and out of place. The high priest sat down across from him and looked around at the small group. He waited patiently until Nellise had finished her prayers, and she gasped as she looked up and saw who had been quietly observing her.
“Your Holiness,” she breathed, taking off her helmet and smoothing down her hair.
“Do not trouble yourself with appearances, sister,” Keenan assured her. “I wished to thank you all for returning our wayward brother back to us, and for having the courage to face such darkness. Had we waited until the inquisitors arrived, who knows what turmoil might have come to pass.”
“Thank you,” Aiden replied quietly, “although the archon didn’t seem enthusiastic to receive our aid.”
“I will speak with him at length, at the appropriate time,” Keenan remarked evenly, and Ashwyn flinched visibly at his words. “Had I been made aware of the situation, I could have aided you myself, though I am not the vigorous young man I used to be.”
“I suppose saving face is important to some people,” Nellise observed, somewhat caustically. A fine crease of disapproval appeared on the archieros’ brow, and he seemed to ponder something for a long moment before speaking. His gaze inadvertently drifted to Pacian, and his pensive expression was replaced by one of surprise.
“I hope you were not planning on keeping that sword, young man,” he remarked, looking at the ancient blade Pacian held. The dessicated hand of its previous owner was still inside the tarnished gauntlet.
“This old thing?” Pacian replied in mock astonishment. “Well, it’s not really worth much, judging by its age, and well, we did save your church just now…” An amused grin creased Keenan’s face.
“The blade you hold in your hands is Solas Aingeal, the Angel of Light, once wielded by Sir Marcus against a terrible evil on the blackest day in the history of our Kingdom,” the elderly priest explained. “It is no mere trinket, nor has age diminished its power so do not be fooled by its appearance.”
“His Holiness is telling you that you hold in your hands one of the most venerated relics in the Church,” Sir William explained dryly. “So no, you cannot keep it.”
“Hey, if this is a holy sword, then why was that undead monster about to use it?”
“Well… it wasn’t really touching the handle, since it was locked into the gauntlet,” Aiden answered after a moment of thought, gesturing at the armoured hand Pacian was grasping.
“Still almost took my head off,” Pacian grumbled, relinquishing the sword to the archieros. The holy man took the blade and delicately removed the withered hand from inside, handing it reverently to the archon by his side. As soon as the archieros touched the handle, however, he froze in place, his blue eyes staring at nothing. It reminded Aiden of the look Corvyn had when his mind was drifting, and Aiden hoped that the head of the Church wasn’t experiencing a similar affliction in his advanced years.
“What is it, Your Holiness?” Nellise breathed, captivated by the moment. Whatever was happenin
g, she clearly didn’t draw the same conclusion Aiden had. The old priest seemed to snap out of his trance, and his eyes turned to Sir William.
“There is change coming to Aielund,” Keenan breathed, his voice sounding weaker than before. “It has been revealed to me by Blessed Kylaris that dire events are transpiring beyond our sight even now. It is time for Solas Aingeal to walk the world once more. Sir William, you are a devout man of boundless courage — I am compelled to offer this blade to you for a time, that you might wield it in the name of God and the King.”
“If God wills it to be so, then I will take up your charge,” the knight intoned. “The honour of bearing this holy weapon is immense, and I will endeavour to be equal to the challenge.” The archieros passed the blade to Sir William’s outstretched hands, hilt first, without further ceremony.
Aiden caught a long look at the sword as it was handed over, and saw its finely crafted hilt, encrusted with pearls and gold, with a crosspiece fashioned into the likeness of angel wings. Shifting his vision slightly, he could see the immense aura of power the blade possessed and realised just what an honour it must be for Sir William to receive this weapon.
“There is a great deal of work for me to do, so I must leave you all now,” Keenan declared, standing up. “I have one last order of business. Nellise Sannemann, I see you sitting there, clad in armour and wielding powerful weaponry. Ashwyn has informed me of your choice to pursue a militant path of service, and considering the events of today, I am grateful you have chosen to do so.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness,” Nellise replied, practically glowing with pride.
“However, that path is not the one the Resolute Heralds walk, and so it brings me no pleasure to expel you from that holy chapter.” Aiden was stunned by this statement, but no more than Nellise — she gaped at the high priest, her moment of vindication destroyed with a few choice words.
“The Resolute Heralds exist to prove our worth to the people, free of military or political influences, and despite earlier signs in your career that you would make a fine Herald, it is clear that your recent experiences have set you on another path. This action is not taken from malice, but for the good of the Church as a whole. Follow your heart, Nellise, and you may find what you seek, but until then, you do not act in service of the Church.”
“This sounds like a punishment,” Aiden complained. “Do you even realise that none of us would be alive if not for her faith and dedication?”
“There are more issues at stake here than faith, Aiden,” Keenan explained, leaning heavily on his staff. “With time, you will all come to understand the nature of this decision. But I regret I must bid you all farewell for now. Go in peace.”
“This is ridiculous,” Pacian spat, though the priest was already walking away. “Don’t listen to him Nel, you’re worth ten of him.
Like Pacian, Aiden didn’t accept the priest’s verdict and felt this was a slap in the face to Nellise, and judging by the broken-hearted look on her delicate features, he could tell she felt the same way.
Chapter Ten
Silence descended upon Aiden and his companions. With both hands Nellise clutched onto the helmet in her lap, showing other no expression of emotion. Eventually, she slowly stood up and walked towards the exit, and the others gradually followed.
“Aiden, tell her not to give up, talk to her,” Sir William begged of him as the young man stood to leave.
“I don’t think anything I say is going to help out this time,” Aiden replied sombrely. “Are you going to be alright here?”
“Of course,” the knight assured him with a tight smile. “The priests shall mend my broken bones, but I’m afraid I may be off my feet for the rest of the day.”
“Get some rest, and I’ll stop by later to see how you’re doing.”
“Indeed. Oh, and Aiden? Thank you for not killing Corvyn. I know the situation probably demanded it, but you found a smarter way to deal with the problem. I am in your debt, sir.”
“I do what I can,” Aiden answered. “We’ll talk again after you’ve had a chance to recover.”
“As you wish,” Sir William nodded, leaning his head back on the bench to await healing. Aiden gave the priest a quick nod, and then strode out of the cathedral to catch up with the others, who were gathered out on the front steps.
The University compound was returning to normal, despite the piles of broken stone scattered around the base of the scarred student’s tower. City watchmen had barricaded the area and workmen were busily cleaning up the debris. Aiden spotted Maggie approaching the cathedral from across the compound as he rejoined his companions.
“That took a little longer than I thought it would,” the raelani druid remarked with exasperation. “I suppose you’re all ‘churched up’ and ready to go then?”
“Actually, there was an incident,” Aiden told her delicately.
“A horde of dead priests rose from their tombs and required re-killing,” Valennia explained boldly. “The men of this ‘church’ were reluctant to get their hands dirty, and so it fell to us to carry out the deed. It was glorious.”
“Does this sort of thing happen often?” Maggie asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Of course not,” Nellise scoffed. “And frankly, I don’t think we should be discussing it in the open like this. I’ll return to the inn, to gather my thoughts and to eat,” she added, turning to walk out of the University gates without pausing for a reply.
“I feel the urge to get blind drunk, so I’m gonna go too,” Pacian declared.
“You? Drink?” Aiden remarked. “I thought you hardly touched the stuff, what with your father’s drinking habits and such.”
“Don’t even bring him up in conversation,” Pacian retorted. “I’m nothing like him because I know where to draw the line. But after what I’ve just seen, I really don’t want to be conscious right now.”
“No argument here,” Aiden replied ruefully. “I think I’ll join you.” As a group, they started to follow in Nellise’s footsteps when it suddenly occurred to Aiden they were missing someone.
“Sayana,” he breathed, silently cursing himself for having forgotten her predicament. They had been in the cathedral for at least an hour, giving the wizards of the University plenty of time to interrogate her.
“Do you need some backup?” Maggie asked him. “I’m used to dealing with obstinate bureaucrats.”
“No I should be okay, go on ahead with the others,” he suggested, thinking about his approach. “Why don’t you offer Nel some advice?”
“What am I supposed to say?” Maggie asked, throwing her arms out wide.
“Some generic wisdom might be appropriate,” Aiden suggested, bending down to whisper in the raelani woman’s ear about Nellise’s exile from the church. Maggie nodded thoughtfully, and then turned to head after the others. A thought occurred to Aiden, and he caught Valennia’s attention before she decided to follow suit. “Actually, I think this situation calls for a lack of subtlety. Val, come with me.” The Akoran woman looked surprised at this, but a faint smile could be detected on her full lips as she fell into step beside Aiden.
“Are you planning to break Sayana out of their grasp with a daring raid?” she asked.
“No.”
“Do you want me to free our companion while you distract them with your fancy words?”
“Um… maybe,” Aiden mused. “Let’s just try talking first. Can you try to look intimidating?”
“I do not need to try, Aiden,” Valennia replied, somewhat hurt by his comment.
“Sorry, I should have known that by now,” Aiden answered with a slight grin. He admired her boldness, no doubt a hallmark of her people.
They walked through the tower’s front entrance and into the central chamber, watching students and faculty member’s saunter past on their way to or from classes, or experiments, or whatever else they did in this fascinating place. Aiden’s dilemma now was to try and locate where they had taken Sayana. Fortunately,
Valennia took the initiative, proving that Aiden certainly picked the right person to accompany him.
“You, tiny man!” she barked at one of the smaller students, walking straight up to him. She towered several inches over the startled young wizard, who nearly dropped his books in surprise. “Did you see a small woman with long red hair being taken away by your masters?”
“I…no, no I didn’t,” the student stammered. Valennia glared at him for a few moments longer before turning to another, more senior-looking man watching from a few yards away.
“And what of you?”
“Excuse me?” the wizard replied, his attention apparently having been elsewhere.
“I seek a red-headed woman, in the company of at least one of your masters,” Valennia reiterated. “In which direction was she taken? Speak!”
“You can’t walk around making demands like that!” the wizard replied in outrage. “I have half a mind to order your expulsion from the building.”
“This one knows something,” Val confided to Aiden before moving in closer to the increasingly distressed wizard. “You would be unwise to challenge me, puny man. However, if you tell me what I wish to know, I will save you the—”. As Valennia spoke, Aiden noticed the wizard forming specific signs in the air with his fingers, and watched his lips whisper out arcane syllables.
Before Aiden could warn her, a ripple passed through the air, engulfing the Akoran warrior and stopping her speech midway. She staggered, trying to keep her balance, and then shook her head vigorously to ward off whatever the wizard had tried upon her. Clearly the incantation had not gone as expected, for Valennia recovered in moments and then immediately charged in, grabbing the startled man by the front of his blue robe and staring at him, eye to eye.
“Next time you try to enchant me, wizard, you had better not fail,” she growled into his face. From Aiden’s position, he could see movement in the shadows approaching the scene. The metal construct that stood guard at the entrance of the tower strode with purpose towards her, each step ringing on the floor like a suit of armour. It reached out with one shining arm and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her away from the wizard with one powerful motion.
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