The sun glared in his eyes as he stepped out of the grand Cathedral. He covered his eyes for a moment, waiting for them to adjust to the bright sunlight. He hadn’t noticed how dark it was inside the cathedral until after stepping outside again.
Once his eyes adjusted, he scoured the area in front of the cathedral, looking for Arwen. She wasn’t by the foot of the stairs, nor was she standing in the shade of the weeping willows. With a scowl, he walked down the wide stairs, and along the narrow, stony path that circled around the cathedral.
The sound of a raven’s caw shattered the serene silence. The beat of large, feathery winds sounded as the bird leapt into the air, shaking the branches of the weeping willow it had been sitting on. It circled the air once, cawing a couple more times before flying off eastward.
Midhir scowled. He had seen crows in the city before, but those were smaller birds – they could survive on scraps left out by the people or hunt small critters for sustenance. Ravens though… those birds were too large to survive on just scraps. It wasn’t just a rare sight to see one here, it was just odd.
Once the raven was too far to see, he lowered his gaze back down to the earth, and looked around for Arwen. Where had the young woman gone? His steps carried him along the stony path. As he turned the corner around the cathedral, the sound of rushed footsteps reached him.
“Midhir!” She exclaimed as soon as their gazes met. She pointed over her shoulder, vaguely towards the back of the cathedral. “I was looking around and didn’t notice how far I had walked.” She nearly stumbled over her words as she quickly explained herself.
“Oh, that’s alright.” It took some effort not to scowl as a stray thought he had suppressed for a while once again demanded attention, clawing at the back of his mind. “Did you see anything like a three-eyed serpent coiling around a basin?” He opened the folded piece of paper Cait had given him. “There’s apparently supposed to be one somewhere between that,” he pointed at the foot of the nearest flying buttress, “and that one,” he pointed at the one somewhat farther away.
Arwen narrowed her eyes. “It’s behind those chrysanthemums.” She pointed at a large patch of white flowers. “Why, what do you need it for?”
He raised and shook the small bag Cait had given him as he walked past her, towards the flowers. “Cait’s-“ he stopped himself. “The Enforcer’s business. We’re supposed to place crystals into the third eye of each stature.”
The chrysanthemums were just about tall enough to reach his knees, though a few of them did reach his waist. As he circled around them, the statue immediately caught his attention.
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Just like the cathedral and the various statues decorating it, this statue was also carved out of pale granite. What was so attention grabbing was the smooth surface, and the various details that yet remained – something the cathedral had lost to time. The basin was quite large, and somewhat shallow. The serpent coiled around it, its tail wrapped around the base of it, and its head rising over it. It’s mouth was closed, and the three eyes it had were empty sockets.
Every scale of the serpent was visible as if the statue was just recently made. The intricate details in and around the basin itself were breath-taking. Symbols decorated the upper edge of the basin, both inside and outside – scripts written in a long forgotten language, only seen in artifacts of old, and the monuments in the Old Growth.
“This is ancient.” He whispered quietly.
“Yes.” Arwen nodded, clearly apprehensive as she approached it. “The script here, I’ve seen it before. Isn’t this old Eldorian? From before the Empire was even built?”
It was. It was the language of witches and warlocks, of tribes who made blood sacrifices to appease the Old Gods. “I don’t think there are many left who can read this.” He reached into the bag and pulled out one of the crystals.
“Golden?” Arwen raised her eyebrows. “Maybe its for a protective array.”
There was no way to know aside from asking Cait. “Let’s get this one with.” He muttered as he stepped closer to the basin and placed the crystal into the serpent’s empty third eye. It slid into place nearly perfectly.
He braced himself for something, anything. Yet, the serene silence remained unbroken, his eye remained normal, and the veil remained intact – as far as he could see around them. With a sigh of relief, he glanced at Arwen. “That’s one down.”
She nervously chuckled. “Right…”
He checked the crudely drawn map, reoriented himself, then returned to the stony path. “Over there… I think.” He pointed between the next two flying buttresses.
One by one, they found the statues. While he carefully placed the crystals into the sockets, Arwen inspected the scrip carved into the basins. “Thirteen in total,” she stated as they got done with the final one. “Not a pleasant number, considering where we are.”
Midhir raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Arwen hesitated. “I read that thirteen is an important number in the Old Faith – thirteen prophets, thirteen vessels of the thirteen ages, stuff like that.” She shrugged. “It’s holy to the priests and such, but to the commonfolk it was apparently an unlucky number.”
“You know a lot about the Old Faith,” Midhir stated, watching her expression.
“After Instructor Theodore told us about how Bareon fell once, I got curious.” She awkwardly chuckled. “So I started reading everything about Eldoria’s history. The Old Faith was just a part of that.”
“I see.” He nodded. It made sense, she was a foreigner after all. It was natural for her to be curious about Eldoria’s history. It was probably not taught as thoroughly in her country of origin… His own thoughts gave him pause, then they trailed off just as he felt like he was forgetting something important.
“Are you done?” Cait’s voice startled him. She was standing at the foot of the stairs, clearly bored and ready to leave. “Let’s go – the next place we’re going, we need to leave before sundown, so hurry.”