“To: Lord Inquisitor Viktor Von Krantz
I shall spare you the formalities Vik. If I am to understand your last report, the appearance of the ‘Mistwalker’ cult solidified our belief that someone had been stalking our convoys. We can assume that it is only through luck they had not picked up the [Chaos Child]. However, that does mean they had access to our internal reports stating that we were searching specifically for elves and that her half elven blood had allowed her to escape. Your current orders are to maintain course and root out the cults in the North including this new ‘Mistwalker’ cult. You must also remain vigilant and remove any infiltrators from our ranks before they can cause anymore chaos to our operations. In that regard you have the full might of the Observatory behind you and may requisition what you see fit. As for the overall situation on the [Harbingers]; the [Order Child] remains firmly within our sphere of influence and if the reports from Arteria are true, then so is the [Chaos Child]. So that matter can be considered resolved on your front and you may refocus all resources back onto securing the North.
Blessed by the Stars,
Oraetor Vitellus”
- Informal Letter on Inquisitorial Office Desk in Marrest
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The subtle hum of machinery and magitech reminded him of just why it had always felt so irritating working long hours. Light danced merrily through the windows, the multicoloured panes offering a brilliant show the first dozen or so times one passed by them. Less so the next hundred dozen times and then some. He tapped his staff against the marbled walls and slotted the top of it into a barely noticeable opening. Cogs turned as gears twirled and the mechanism clicked into place. A small dial protruded from the wall disguised as a decorative tile and he turned the combination until he felt another solid click.
Satisfied, he waited for the gears to finish turning before tugging on the dial and sliding open the marble wall section. He ducked in quickly and slid the wall back, tinkering with a few more dials on the other side that locked the wall back into place.
He stepped into a well furnished room, the ornate soft red carpets and checkered wallpaper a constraint to the expensive but plain marble walls outside. The room emanated a sense of warmth and welcome that he enjoyed and he let out a relieved sigh. A varnished oak desk and cushioned chair awaited him and he carefully set his staff in a rack, ensuring it would not fall out before he took his seat.
The room had no connection to the outside world save for the wall passage and a secret escape tunnel, but the windows were present nonetheless and allowed for the faint imprint of starlight to brighten up the room. Shadows of the stars twinkled across the desk and he groaned, the irony of false stellar phenomenon not lost upon him. Each member of the Stellar Observatory had their own little secret rooms and passages within the massive cathedrals of Saintsrest, he was no different. Yet, to him it was laughable how in their attempt to appear more holy, they would rely upon things so close to potential heresy by making a mockery of the stars. At least I don’t hide my sins, he scoffed to himself.
Vitellus soon found himself lost in thought, his mind’s cross examining the report he had read from Inquisitor Von Krantz earlier. The implications of a cult that had its members not only infiltrate the Astralian church, but the Inquisition as well. It wasn’t just a grave accusation, it was the herald of a potential catastrophe if his words were true.
Fucking shit. Vitellus cursed, if they knew that our forces were thin, then that must mean they have been observing us for some time. Not only that, but if this is a cult that had been observing us, then it might very likely be the same one that raided our convoys the past few months. Someone’s passing them information, but who?
He pulled open a desk drawer and rifled through the hundreds of sheafs of paper within it. He dug deep until he found a crumpled folder with some crinkled paper within it. Grumbling about his misfortune, Vitellus placed the papers on his desk and looked at the months old reports from the day they had lost the ‘Chaos Child’, as the Stellar Observatory had dubbed the elven child. They must’ve had our manifests, and our patrol schedules. There were four shadow caravans sent out that night and they chose the one disguised as a civilian transport. Easy mark perhaps, but they burned all the loot and took all the prisoners, the full blooded elven ones that is. Any non-elves died in the assault and they likely assumed she was dead too. No, couldn’t be bandits, too organized and certain of their objectives.
He scanned the reports for names, places and people, collecting every morsel of information he could before recalling who exactly he had spoken to the operation about. Unable to recall more than a dozen names, he let out a frustrated growl and marched over to a wardrobe in his room. Beneath the piles of clothes and religious uniforms, he opened a hidden panel to reveal a small safe behind the wardrobe. From within he pulled out what looked to anyone else as blank paper. But, when he placed it upon his desk and pulled a small magitech lantern over, the words on the page creeped back out to life.
Names, families, ranks, status, and every piece of dirt he could gather on his colleagues. After all, he couldn’t simply allow anyone to roll him over without a fight. He spent the next few hours cross checking all the names on the papers he drew and the reports. Scribbling little addendum here and there as his mind processed the information at a staggering rate. A small clock ticked on steadily on the side of his desk, the hour hand shifting ever closer back around to the ‘1’ that he had first entered the room in. More papers, more scrawled writings, and soon he found himself pulling out a fresh sheet of paper.
With his pen in hand, he cleanly wrote down a fresh page of names. Sighing deeply before he turned to watch the clock tick past the midnight hour. Wordlessly, he returned all the documents to their rightful place, perhaps less crumpled than when he found them, and walked over to the secret exit. The wall itself was decorated by draperies that hung all across the room, but this one in particular was attached to a small device that led beyond the cathedral itself. Vitellus tugged on the strings in a rhythmic fashion, signalling his subordinate.
He furrowed his brows and turned to the last piece of paper on the desk, the innocuous word filled sheet staring back at him. No turning back if we go through with this. But, with Viktor’s report and the predictions from the Observatory… do I really have any other choice?
He waited, still in his chair until he could make out the faintest echoing of footsteps from the exit. A soft coded rapt on the walls, three small knocks, two heavier knocks, one light knock. He replied with two short taps of his own and found the other switch to open the exit wall, twisting it until it clicked.
From within, three cowled figures stepped through a templar alongside two squat dwarves. They wordlessly assembled within the room and Vitellus nodded, the templar turning back to look down the passageway, one hand ready on his blade. The two dwarves meanwhile, simply looked up in curiosity at Vitellus, their bearded forms betraying little of their true thoughts. Taking their silence as acceptance, Vitellus handed over the singular page before sitting back down.
The dwarves gave it a cursory glance before they looked back at him, the shorter of the two taking an extra step forward.
“What’ll you have us do with this batch?” He asked.
Vitellus held his breath, even for him, this might be a step too far. But perhaps only through evil acts may we cleanse the sin that corrupts the church.
“Bring them to the warehouse. Whatever it takes.” Vitellus ordered.
“Eleven is a tall order.” The taller and longer bearded dwarf grumbled.
Vitellus merely nodded and grabbed a sack of coins out from under his robes, tossing it to the dwarf with the shorter beard. “Hazard pay.”
The hefty clink and amount of gold within was made evident when the dwarves peered into the pouch and their eyes widened in surprise. But before they could revel in the hefty sack, Vitellus clapped his hand and the templar opened another secret compartment in the walls. This time, there contained a small box that the silent soldier brought over and opened in front of the trio. Within it, stacks upon stacks of Gold Artes sat, awaiting a fortune craving lunatic to gather them all.Vitellus nodded at the templar and the soldier gestured for the long beard to carry it.
“For your crew. Consider the extra… a bonus for a job well done from last time.” Vitellus hummed.
The dwarves looked at each other and nodded, stroking their beards in unison when they seemed to come to some conclusion.
“What’s the catch? This isn’t just a hefty bonus, it's enough to cover more than two contracts.” Longbeard growled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“Aye, far be it for us tae be the ones tae break protocol. But… this is something important I’d wager. We’d like to know we’re certain to be out of trouble afterwards. Or rather, that we could still work in this half of the continent after we’re done.” Shortbeard added.
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Vitellus groaned in annoyance but nodded his understanding. He wracked his mind for words that wouldn’t reveal his hand completely when his thoughts were drawn to where he hid the Inquisitional report. An idea sparked within him and he leaned back into the cushion of the chair, a sickly creak from the wood echoed in the sound proof room from the pressure he exerted.
“Let’s say…” He tapped his fingers on the armrest, “let’s say some people have done a few very naughty things against the church. So much so that I would very much like to have a… discreet word with them. To make sure they aren’t involved… of course. Barring that, I’ll handle any repercussions thrown your way.” He nodded knowingly.
The dwarves raised an eyebrow at him but seemed to accept the broad explanation. The Longbeard pulled out a small runic stone and held it forward, Vitellus obligingly taking it and placing it on his desk. A small device to let the holder know when the contract was completed. Before they turned to leave however, Shortbeard wagged a finger and stopped his compatriot from walking off.
“Any specific requirements? Any specific thing we should grab or look out for given the... high price tag?” Shortbeard asked.
Vitellus stroked his chin and closed his eyes before shaking his head. “I just need them to be able to talk.”
At that the two dwarves grinned slightly and tapped two fingers on their heads in acknowledgement. Vitellus simply nodded and gestured for the templar to escort them out. The trio soon disappeared back into the opening within the wall from whence they appeared from. Once the footsteps stopped echoing, Vitellus twisted the mechanism once more and the opening shut itself in front of him, the wall section moving back into position to conceal the passageway once more.
He sighed and sunk into his chair once more, wishing that he had spent these hours at the brothel instead of being stuck sifting through papers. However, he knew that the others within the Observatory would consider such matters trivial, thus leaving him the responsibility for handling internal affairs alongside the Inquisition. By the Goddess, are you sure these are even your priests and priestesses? So engrossed in stellar phenomena that they can’t even see the rot in earthly matters around themselves. Still, a cult, now two and some infiltrators, Traxia being belligerent once again, Harbinger children and more reports of demons in the north… Vitellus shook his head. What a time to be alive.
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Elaria sipped from her teacup, holding the liquids in her mouth as she savoured the flavour. It tasted of jasmine with a hint of sweetness and tartness from the tea itself. It certainly was different from the airy, almost earthy taste of the tea she drank in the morning. She sighed in pleasure and enjoyed the fleeting moment as much as she could. Mmm, fragrant, aromatic and quite relaxing. Perhaps a hibiscus tea next time.
A low rumbling interrupted her thoughts and she rolled her eyes. She had gotten used to the subtle rumbling beneath the palace as a sign that the Master wished to converse once more. Though it used to simply hover over the structure ominously and simply project its words onto the occupants. Elaria found that as of late, the Master had seemed to almost try and make things seem ‘natural’. As much as monstrous tentacles the size of buildings could be considered ‘normal’. To Elaria it wasn’t much of a problem, she had been created by the Master after all. No, she suspected that it was in anticipation of Sophie’s return, a noble if likely to fail attempt at trying to seem more normal towards one of the few things the Master actually had some interest in. If anything it’s gonna make Sophie more anxious.
“What is it?” Elaria groaned.
Tendrils snaked themselves over the top of the palace and down into the courtyard. One tentacle coiled around a nearby pillar as another eye stalk slinked its way over towards Elaria and her tea table, the movements shaking the tea cups ever so slightly. The fleshy scaled pulsating meat left a trail of membrane, mucus, and revolting blackened liquid behind it, staining the stone brick path below. She frowned at the sight, dreading the strenuous process of having to re-clean the palace grounds.
Abominable Imposter, It has been foolish. Now the Guardians take notice.
The Master trilled irritably. The eye stalk pulsated an air of annoyance and Elaria could see the tendril shake with displeasure. Though she did suppose that without the Master looming over the palace, there was a bit more breathing room to be snarky.
“So… they know the Imposter is trying to make a move. So what? We’ll just have to cover our tracks better.” Elaria asked.
If a tentacle could snort, Elaria assumed that it just had.
Fool child, should they notice, the world would be shrouded in shadow. The Stolen Dawn would be beyond thine reach for another eon.
The eye stalk convulsed with anger before it slinked closer to her.
The Sofi has been slow, the power of the dawn lies still beyond her reach. But time has begun flowing against us, the Dawn must be returned. The tentacle grumbled, To me.
Elaria gulped down the last of her tea before she slowly lowered the cup into the saucer. She tapped at her nose in thought. It’s not like the Master is powerless, but without an active source of power, we are quite limited in what we can do. Still though, I fail to see how the Imposter’s failures are related to us. She grunted and faced the eye stalk, the beady almost swollen fleshy orb gazing directly back at her.
“Okay, so what should we do?” Elaria spoke, “We could try to reach out to Sophie again.”
No. The risk is too great for simple messages. There must be a certainty in action in achieving the return of the Dawn.
“Hmpf, so then what? It’s not like we could just seize one of them from here. The last few have been destroyed or shattered under the… false rituals. We also can’t just act unilaterally without drawing the ire of the Guardians.”
It is not about simply acquiring it, but halting the machinations of the Imposter at the same time. That is paramount in tracking down the vile false blood.
“But won’t the Guardians take care of it anyways? You said it raised their attention after all.”
For those mewlings to deny the prize of the Imposter’s destruction from me is tantamount to treason. I will personally deliver justice for its theft from the Void.
The tentacles shook the palace in its entirety, the mood of the Master shifting to one of definitive anger and hatred. Elaria raised an eyebrow at the display, surprised that the Master of the Void could display such humanlike emotions. It was, in some sense of the word, a little uncanny. Though the monstrous visage of the planet-sized fleshy monstrosity was likely more than enough to dispel any illusions that its ‘care’ on such issues would ever truly reflect that of a mortal being’s ‘care’ of anything
“So? What’s the plan?” Elaria asked nonchalantly, “I assume you’re telling me because we’re about to try another way of getting Sophie to the Towers.”
Eyestalk and tendril snaked their way into the sky above the courtyard. Hanging high under the light of countless false moons, they wove a brilliant tapestry of stellar phenomena and stars that cover the view with a painting of the universe beyond the void. A light gaseous nebula covered the shimmering tapestry with a sense of majesty as distant stellar arrays flickered to life. Elaria felt the gentle trickle of star dust on her skin, the sensation trapped between the frigidness of the void and the warmth of the stars.
“Hmm?” Elaria queried.
Until at least one of the primordial stones have been tempered, the Void’s influence will always be restrained. The tendrils shuddered and Elara watched as the starry tapestry turned into a deep purplish shade, the stars now obscured by a nebula that radiated annoyance. In the Little Sofi, the threads of fate had been cut. Yet, the frayed ends knot themselves together once more to bind her to their whims, that must not be allowed. She must temper the primordial stones. Soon, the Imposter will war with the Guardians, and the slumbering Darkness too will awaken. Before then, we must be ready. Ready to restore order through nothingness.
Elaria furrowed her brow and pursed her lips for a long moment before she finally spoke up, “And what would you have me do?”
Before the Guardians shroud the planet, you shall act in the Void’s stead. You shall be the one to direct the Little Sofi to the stones when I cannot.
“Me? What do you mean, me?” Elaria reacted with no small amount of surprise.
You desire to explore where she treads, do you not? The eye stalk warbled.
“I mean… I guess…” Elara was caught off guard, never expecting herself to be the subject of the Master’s focus.
Then this is your chance. To live as she lives, feel as she feels. Beyond such mortal ambitions, the Void requires an emissary to guide its champion. That emissary is to be you.
It was true that she had often found herself wondering what life for Sophie must be like. The thoughts of a life beyond the unchanging Void seemed both exotic and alien. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy, to be cut off not just from the Master but from the powers of the Void drove a lance of apprehension through her heart. But the innate desire to find her sister once more won out.
“Fine.” Elaria declared, “I will go. But how will I get there and come back?”
The eye stalk examined her up and down before offering its version of an approving nod. Good, now rest. The people of her world are lost and confused, many perform rituals beyond their understanding. We shall hijack one and you shall use that as your method of arrival. From there, you must lead the Little Sofi to temper the primordial stones. Once that is done, both your tasks will be finished and our entrance piercing the shroud will be ready. The tentacle trilled with a faint sense of joyful malice.
Elaria swallowed her concerns and just nodded along, taking the moment to pour herself some more tea.
Rest now, the time to depart grows close. It trilled one last time.
Elaria watched as the two tendrils uncoiled themselves from the palace and the skies returned to the dim partly starry image that had always rested above the courtyard. A little nonplussed, she chugged the rest of her tea and let out a small snort. Just when I thought I wouldn't be surprised, heh. Still, bet she’ll be more than surprised when I show up. It’ll be one helluva adventure at least. With a mischievous grin on her face, she caressed the small amulet that she wore around her neck, the jewel within glowing a soft pale blue. Just need to wait a little bit longer.