VII
A week before word of Emperor Ramza’s abdication reached the United City-States of Sutherland, Senior Hundred-Wing Zephyr delivered the same news to Seraph Sofitia Hell Mekia, seventh of her line. In terms of both quantity and quality, however, the difference in the information they received was like night and day.
The Cloudy Chamber in La Chaim Palace, Elsphere
As she reclined in her magnificently ornamented throne, Sofitia’s first thought after hearing Zephyr’s report was that Darmés must be a mage. She already knew from the information Amelia had brought her that there was a mage in the empire. However, the description Felix had given of that mage did not fit Darmés at all. Which led one to the theory—
“Could there have been two mages?”
“I’m entirely at a loss when it comes to mages, My Seraph, but I will say one thing, if I may. There’s no way that was the doing of an ordinary man. Not that...that...” Words failed Zephyr, and Sofitia saw the thinly veiled terror in his face. She had not seen him like this since he had described Olivia in battle to her.
Those who had left this life had dragged themselves from the ground to attack those still living. Sofitia considered herself well-versed on the subject of magecraft, but she had never so much as heard of magecraft that so desecrated the dead.
Perhaps I might find answers there... she mused, thinking of a certain person as she continued to question Zephyr.
“You are sure that Lord Sieger set himself against Darmés when he claimed himself the new emperor?”
“Completely certain, My Seraph,” Zephyr said with conviction. It was not that Sofitia doubted what he said. The situation had simply deviated so dramatically from her plans that she was, in truth, left befuddled. Everything that had occurred up until Olivia and Felix crossed swords had ended up in line with her predictions. But thanks to Darmés’s intervention, along with the rising dead, their battle had ended undecided. Olivia and Felix had formed a temporary truce and marched off to the imperial capital together.
After their conversation, there can be no doubt that Lord Sieger returned to the capital for no reason other than Ramza. But what about my dear Olivia? I cannot work out what reason she had for accompanying Lord Sieger to Olsted. To get a look at the state of the city in anticipation of a battle to come? Sofitia immediately discarded this idea. To her knowledge, Olivia did not have a scrap of ambition, nor any interest in war. War simply happened to follow in the course of her search for Z; the idea that she would be so calculating was unbelievable.
Ah well. I’m sure Olivia’s situation will reveal itself in time. Sofitia looked at the kneeling Zephyr.
“You have proof of the new emperor’s accession, yes?”
“We have, My Seraph. I had word from the owl we sent to infiltrate the capital confirming it. Blessed Wing Lara, Senior Thousand-Wing Johann, and Thousand-Wing Amelia have also received this report. It was my determination that the older the information, the greater the risk. My Seraph, you have my full apology for taking this decision upon myself without seeking your counsel.”
“No apology is necessary. Indeed, I don’t recall appointing a master of the owls who would not rely on his own judgment in a crisis.”
“Thank you, My Seraph.”
Sofitia acknowledged him with a small nod, turning the matter over in her mind. Twin Lions at Dawn has fallen apart. True, the defection of the Azure Knights has drastically weakened the imperial army, but even accounting for that, I don’t see the future bringing any chances for Fernest to turn the tables. The greatest problem is Darmés and the dead he seems to control. His horde of several thousand was apparently quashed, but if it really was his magecraft, the same thing will almost certainly happen again. And we must not fail to consider that the Azure Knights and the Eighth Legion were only able to deal with the dead because they are the elite. What concerns me more than anything else is the number of dead. It was possible to put down a few thousand of them, but what about an attack by tens or hundreds of thousands...?
Perhaps several thousand was the upper limit for the number of corpses Darmés could press into his service, but only a fool would base future strategy on such a convenient assumption. So long as Darmés’s powers remained an entirely unknown quantity, Sofitia decided it was best to act assuming the worst. Thus, a single choice remained to her.
“What did the other three say?”
“All were in favor of withdrawing.”
“I see. They do not disappoint.” Sofitia was pleased that they too had kept cool heads in making their decision. “I concur. You will therefore summon them back to Mekia.”
“I shall see to it at once, My Seraph.”
“Oh, and please tell Angelica to come to me.”
“Very well,” Zephyr said, then departed the Cloudy Chamber. Not long after, Angelica appeared.
“I have come at your summons, My Seraph!” she proclaimed.
“In high spirits as ever, I see.”
“My spirits are always high, My Seraph!” Angelica said with a friendly grin. Sofitia returned a quiet smile as she got straight to the point.
“I will be making a journey to the Artemiana Cathedral. I wish for you to prepare me a carriage and to act as my bodyguard.”
Angelica cocked her head dubiously. “You want me, My Seraph? Not the Seraphic Guard?”
“It will be a sudden visit. Appearing with a throng of attendants in tow would cause undue inconvenience for our hosts.”
“In that case, I’m your woman. There’s something serious going down, isn’t there?”
“Whatever makes you think that?”
Sofitia had not meant to show any outward nervousness. For one thing, anyone whose inner thoughts were easy to read was ill-suited to rule a nation. She stared at Angelica, wondering.
“Just a gut feeling!” Angelica replied cheerfully.
Sofitia kept back a smile. Now that she thought about it, the girl had always had good instincts.
“I thought we might leave in an hour. Will that work?”
“No problem at all, My Seraph! I shall await you at the palace gates!” Angelica saluted, raising two fingers to her temple, then trotted out of the Cloudy Chamber. Sofitia watched her go, her eyes on the enormous sword that entirely obscured Angelica’s narrow back as she idly wondered, Will such a large sword even fit in a carriage?
A large carriage with a large sword strapped to its roof clattered gaily along through the mountains. Sofitia and Angelica sat within as, for around two hours, the carriage climbed the gentle slope. Looming above them, in the midst of the northern mountains, was the heart of the Illuminus Church—they had arrived at the Artemiana Cathedral.
The cathedral was the work of two hundred years, finally completed in Tempus Fugit 724. It was circular in shape, with towering images of the Goddess Strecia carved into the walls to the north, south, east, and west. There were always believers who, upon seeing the cathedral for the first time, were moved to tears by its sublime beauty. In addition, since rumors had spread that Strecia’s expression subtly changed depending on the angle at which it was viewed, believers endlessly circling the temple had become a common sight.
“The fog’s very thick today, isn’t it, My Seraph?” Angelica said, her cheek squashed up against the carriage window. The childlike behavior charmed Sofitia, who sat diagonally across from Angelica.
“I believe the temperature fell very low last night,” Sofitia replied, “so I doubt this fog will clear for some time.”
Looking out the window as they passed a snaking column of believers making their way to the entrance to the nave of the cathedral, Sofitia and Angelica entered through the side door reserved for persons of high standing. Awaiting them on the other side, accompanied by several priests, was the man who stood atop the hierarchy of the church, Archbishop Ariel Harmiton himself.
The driver graciously offered a hand to Sofitia, who took it as she stepped down from the carriage. She faced the softly smiling Ariel, held out the skirts of her black gown covered with intricate silver embroidery, and curtsied.
“Your Holiness. It has been too long.”
“A messenger hurried to inform us that we would have the unexpected pleasure of your company. I rushed to make myself presentable.”
“I hope you will forgive our sudden intrusion.” Sofitia bowed low, at which Ariel became greatly flustered.
“Oh, this is embarrassing. I didn’t mean to imply anything like that...” He faltered. “But, Seraph, you are radiant as ever. As I recall, it has been two years since last we met, yet to my eyes your beauty has only grown more exquisite.”
“You have that right! The seraph gets more beautiful every day!” Their conversation was interrupted by Angelica, her chest swelling with pride. Even for kings and rulers, it was considered no mean feat to meet with the archbishop in person. Such was the reputation his position commanded, and so one might have understood the intense dislike with which the other priests glared at Angelica.
“Angelica, here you must be mindful of what you say,” Sofitia chided her. Angelica’s eyes grew as round as a gray squirrel’s, and she tilted her head sharply to the left.
“Huh? But it’s true, isn’t it? I mean, His Excellency the Archbishop thinks so too.”
“I could not agree more with the young lady,” said Ariel, nodding along. Angelica thrust her nose in the air and nodded herself. The sigh that escaped Sofitia was so profound she even surprised herself. She had, without exaggeration, nothing but admiration for the nerve it took to stand undaunted before the man who occupied the highest position in the Holy Illuminus Church, but she also fervently wished Angelica would consider whether now was really the place and time.
“I sincerely apologize for my subject’s impropriety.” The actions of one’s subjects all reflected on their ruler. Sofitia bowed her head again.
“Please raise your head, Seraph. Indeed, I envy you having such excellent people in your service.” Ariel did not appear offended in the slightest. On the contrary, as he stroked his bushy beard, he seemed to be enjoying himself. “But we should not stand chatting away under these wintry skies. Please come inside. I will have the wrath of the Mekian people to contend with if I allow Seraph Sofitia to catch a cold.”
“I wish you wouldn’t jest about such things.”
“Huh?” Angelica interjected. “But the people would be angry.”
“Angelica.”
In a state of discomfiture, Sofitia followed the merrily grinning Ariel into the cathedral.
Sofitia’s and Ariel’s footsteps echoed in the silence of the cathedral. They walked for five minutes through the mystical cloisters that floated into view in the pale, blue-green light. Then, Sofitia was shown into a room so sparse as to make everything up until then seem like an illusion.
“This is my room,” Ariel said. Sofitia felt genuine surprise. Everything on his person, from the robe of his office to his many ornaments, were fine enough to rival the spectacle of the cathedral. Sofitia did not engage in the distasteful habit of speculating on the private quarters of others, but even so, she could not deny that this was unexpected.
“Not what you were expecting?” he asked with a gracious smile that said he had guessed her thoughts. Sofitia readily admitted that it was not, which made him chuckle.
“I had it rebuilt nearly a year ago,” he explained. “I imagine it feels horribly cramped to you, but this is where I am most at ease.”
“It is not so different from my own room. You need not be concerned.”
“It is a relief to hear you say that.” Ariel directed her to a simple round table, where a fine-featured boy in a white robe drew out a chair for her. In the middle of the table there was a small vase of white porcelain, containing a single, modest blossom. Singularly rare, with each of its petals taking on a different color, it was a spinacia—Sofitia’s favorite flower.
Archbishop Ariel really remembered that little conversation from all of two years ago.
Ariel made no mention of the flower as he sat down opposite her. A moment later, another boy identical to the first appeared to offer her tea.
They must be twins, Sofitia thought. As the boy bowed his head and drew back, he gave her a furtive glance that was full of curiosity. When Sofitia smiled at him, he retreated, looking flustered.
“We have everything we need. You may go.”
“Yes, Archbishop,” the twin boys chorused in clear and ringing voices. They left in perfect step with one another, as though they had rehearsed it. Sofitia found her eyes following their retreating backs, until Ariel spoke softly.
“That which glittered so brightly to my eyes in my youth has come to seem very foolish as I grow older.” Bouncing the shining platinum medallion that hung around his neck on his palm, he gave her a sly smile. This medallion, which he now handled with such irreverence, was the mark of his position as archbishop and one of the Three Great Treasures of the Holy Illuminus Church. Anyone with any connection to the church knew this.
Sofitia felt laughter rise up within her at this very un-bishop-like behavior, and was unable to contain it.
“If His Holiness, Archbishop of the Holy Illuminus Church, means to carry on like that, he had best be prepared for the sermon Bishop Krishna will give him.”
Bishop Krishna Halbert was second in the church hierarchy and commanded what was effectively the church’s standing army: the Knights of the Sanctuary. He was known to be foremost among the militant faction of the church.
“Indeed, I don’t want to imagine what he would have to say if he found out. He was dead against it when I had this room rebuilt too. I can still hear him going on and on about the ‘dignity of the archbishop’ and what have you like it was yesterday. That being said,” he went on solemnly, “this conversation will be our secret. Not a word is to pass thy lips!” The next moment, he burst out laughing. The two of them chuckled together with the open ease of old friends.
When their amusement had subsided, Ariel turned his eyes, like liquid amber flecked with gray, down to the table.
“Still, I have to keep up appearances with the priests and the faithful. But lately I have found myself wishing I could wash myself clean of it all and give myself wholly to the service of the Goddess Strecia, as I did long ago.” There was sadness in the lingering hint of his smile as he reached for his teacup. It was the lot of those who held great power, to be shackled by it in equal measure.
Sofitia looked around at Ariel’s room once more. None of the furnishings would have looked out of place for sale in an ordinary shop. She saw nothing that would have fetched a high price.
Any ordinary person would see this as an ordinary room, but to Ariel, it might just be his last bastion of freedom, she thought. Like as not, Ariel would not see his wish granted until the day he set out for the land of the dead. In the same way, Sofitia had traded away her own freedom when she’d inherited the title of seraph. So well did she understand Ariel’s feelings that in that moment, words escaped her.
“I fear I have let my mouth run away with me,” Ariel said. “Why don’t you tell me what has led you to grace us with your presence today?”
As he quietly raised his teacup to his lips, Sofitia composed herself. “I shall come straight to the point,” she said. “I ask your leave to view the Book of Stella Vera.”
“The Book of Stella Vera, eh...? Have you taken an interest in the deep mysteries of magecraft, Seraph?” The teacup stopped where it was. Ariel’s eyes, serene yet lit by a piercing gleam, seemed to look straight into her soul. Just like that, Sofitia could not help but be aware that this man stood at the head of the Holy Illuminus Church. The Book of Stella Vera contained descriptions of a wide variety of magecraft, and was, like Ariel’s medallion, another of the Three Great Treasures. If the medallion symbolized light within the church, the Book of Stella Vera symbolized the shadows, the existence of which were known only to a very select few. One did not make the request to view it lightly.
Sofitia was well aware of all this as she held Ariel’s gaze without looking away.
At last, he made a thoughtful noise. “I see you are not asking from mere curiosity. But that book is far more precious than this bit of metal around my neck. I cannot reveal its secrets just like that, even to one who makes such generous annual donations to the church as yourself, Seraph. You understand, I hope?”
“Of course, I make my request in full knowledge of that.” Sofitia would never have insisted that he show her the book because of her donations. All the same, after coming this far, giving up was not an option. Sofitia stared at Ariel with still greater determination. The gleam in his eyes grew brighter.
“Would you tell me why you wish to see it?” he asked at length.
“Very well.” Sofitia did not hesitate. She told him the information the owls had brought her, concealing nothing. When she finished, Ariel’s expression had grown so grave as to be unrecognizable.
“I see... Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed you would tell me that. So if I have this right, you want to find out if magecraft exists that would allow one to control the dead?”
“Yes.”
“I must say, I have never heard of magecraft that blasphemes against Strecia. I don’t remember any such spells recorded in the Book of Stella Vera...”
“Your Holiness, it is my belief that we have not seen the last of the risen dead. Even a clue might help us later on.”
Ariel considered. “Very well. I suppose I cannot ignore the matter, when it concerns my congregation.”
“I am most grateful for your understanding.”
“No need to thank me. Only, the whole thing is written in the ancient tongue of Levina. Will that be an issue?”
“Ancient Levinian will give me no trouble,” Sofitia said, smiling.
Ariel rubbed his head with a look of amused resignation. “Strecia have mercy, no trouble, eh? As I recall, even the scholars who specialize in that tongue struggle to master it...but in any case, I shall take you there at once.”
Sofitia and Ariel left his room and made their way to the Spire of Heavenly Light where the Book of Stella Vera was kept. The spire rose up from the center of the cathedral’s outer walls, closely resembling the main tower of La Chaim Palace. The story passed down in the present day was that when the first seraph had built the palace, it had been modeled on the Spire of Heavenly Light. Artemiana Cathedral was eight stories high, but the spire was only accessible by an overbridge on the fourth story, along which Sofitia and Ariel now crossed. A great door came into view, its sturdiness apparent even at a distance. Standing pressed to the wall on either side of it, looking no less sturdy than the door itself, stood four of the Knights of the Sanctuary. They saluted, holding their fists over their hearts. Ariel gave them a small nod, then stopped in front of the door and began to fish around in his pockets.
“What we’re after is on the highest floor. We have a great many stairs ahead of us. Do you think your legs are up to it?” Ariel produced an exquisitely crafted silver key.
Sofitia smiled. “Physically, I am sure I will be up to the task, though I admit I quail at the thought of going above the clouds.”
Ariel chuckled. “Fear not, Seraph. We will stay below the clouds.”
She watched from behind as he inserted the key into the center of the door. A heavy thunk echoed down the corridor.
“Let us enter, then.” Two of the knights pushed open the door for Ariel, who strode on through. Sofitia did the same, the two knights following after her without a word.
“There are a great many traps, to keep out intruders. Please do not, under any circumstances, touch the walls.”
“I will be careful.” The knights took up positions to their front and rear as Sofitia and Ariel ascended the staircase that extended up along the walls. Through careful observation of the walls, she realized there were unnatural indentations and little holes set into the stone at irregular intervals. She supposed a trap would snap up any intruder who brushed the outer wall before they had time to react.
After thirty minutes spent ascending the stairs, Sofitia started to get out of breath.
“This isn’t too hard on you, is it, Seraph?” Ariel asked.
“I am quite all right. I hope I do not come across as insincere after it was I who made this unreasonable request of you, but this isn’t too hard on you, is it, Your Holiness?”
Ariel stopped with one foot on the next step up. He turned, and Sofitia saw at a glance that his face was dripping sweat.
“Much as I’d like to say it’s not, my years have gotten the better of me.”
“I’m sorry to have made you come so far.”
“You needn’t worry about that,” Ariel brushed her off. “The place has to be aired out regularly, or it stagnates, so I make the climb twice a month. All part of my duties as archbishop. There’s no one else I can trust with it, after all.” Ariel turned back, then set off again up the stairs.
After a little over an hour of climbing, they arrived at the top of the spire. The knight at the head of their group mopped the sweat that glistened on his neck with a handkerchief, then went around to light the candles affixed to the walls. On a clear day, the window set in the ceiling would have let in the light, but from what Sofitia could see of the scenery outside, the fog had still not lifted.
“Please watch your step in the dark,” the knight said.
“I’m used to it. See you attend to the seraph.”
“Your Holiness.”
The torches led away straight ahead. Stepping carefully, Sofitia followed Ariel until they arrived at another solidly built door.
“A moment, if you will.” From his pocket, Ariel took out a gold key that closely resembled the silver one. He inserted it into the leftmost of three keyholes, then turned it clockwise. There was a click as he withdrew it, then inserted the same key into the rightmost keyhole and turned it counterclockwise. Finally, he inserted the silver key into the central keyhole and carefully turned it left, then right. A screech that sounded like the coiling of an iron chain filled the passageway.
“Just a little longer,” Ariel said. A minute passed, then silence fell once more. Ariel removed the silver key from the door, then turned to Sofitia, who had watched all this without a word. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting.”
The rumbling as the two knights pushed the door open shook the floor beneath them. Sofitia followed Ariel and saw at the other end of the room a plinth carved from black glass, standing as tall as herself. What was more, despite its great size, she could see no pins or wedges holding it together. Truly astonishing though it was, this was proof that it was entirely unworked black glass.
“I’ve never seen black glass like this before...”
Needless to say, black glass was a rare mineral, and even in the Holy Land of Mekia, where it was mined in abundance, a piece of this size was by no means a common sight. Sofitia doubted the merchants who based themselves in Mekia would have said differently.
Having said that, there was nothing other than the plinth that stood out. Placed against the wall were a small desk with a chair, and that was it. She cast her eyes over the whole of the room, but there was nothing especially elaborate in its construction.
Without specific reference to the plinth, Ariel said, “You will find the Book of Stella Vera over there.”
“You surprise me. It is in a very conspicuous place.”
“It would be meaningless otherwise,” Ariel said with an air of significance. Eyeing his smile dubiously, Sofitia walked up to the plinth. She saw a richly bound book resting atop it.
“Is this—” Before Sofitia could finish, Ariel’s stern voice cut her off.
“Do not let your hands touch the book.”
“You mean,” Sofitia said slowly, “that this is another trap.”
Ariel nodded gravely. He explained that picking up the book activated a mechanism that dispersed a tasteless, odorless poison into the area around the plinth. Inhale even the slightest amount, and it would slowly eat away at the body until the flesh rotted off one’s bones.
“Then where is the real book?” Sofitia asked.
Rather than reply, Ariel inserted the medallion around his neck into a depression in the center of the plinth. There was a whir of gears turning as a single board emerged. Lying atop it in a symmetrical arrangement were two discs inscribed with ancient Levinian script. Ariel placed a hand on each and began to move them with practiced gestures. Sofitia watched in fascination, then from beneath her feet there came a humming vibration as another plinth slowly rose.
It’s extraordinary that they made it this elaborate, she thought. She found her gaze drawn to the center of the new plinth. Nestled in a cleanly carved-out square was an old book. Handling it carefully as though it might fall apart, Ariel picked it up.
“This is the real Book of Stella Vera,” he told her. As she took it from him, he added sternly, “I’m sure I don’t need to say it, wise as you are, but you will refrain from removing the book from this room.”
“Naturally,” Sofitia replied as she looked over at the little desk and chair. “Might I make use of the desk over there?”
“Anything in this room is yours to use as you please. I will have the knights wait for you outside. Call out through the door when you are done reading, and we will return to escort you.”
“I am much obliged to you for all the troubles you have taken for me.”
“I pray your search bears fruit, Seraph. May the blessings of Strecia be with you.”
As Ariel left the room, the great doors swung tightly shut behind him with another heavy rumble. Though he had not said it explicitly, she could sense with powerful certainty that, ruler of Mekia or no, he would not suffer any abuse of his trust in her.
Well, then, she thought. I hope you have the answers I seek. Without further ado, she lowered herself into the chair, then set the Book of Stella Vera down on the desk. Then, slowly, she turned the first page.
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