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Death Paradox
Chapter 18 Divide

Chapter 18 Divide

“Well that was difficult.” Chakken said, sighing on the back of the ancient beast.

“You don’t say?” Ribold said gingerly, feeling around the hole Mary put in him.

“So who do ya think Vol will pick to join the Unholy 7 next?” Chakken said.

“What do you mean?” Alfso asked.

“Well, Ruprecht is dead and if she’s not yet Frau Lange will be. So that’s two more. You won’t be the new kids anymore.”

“Frau Lange isn’t dead, or at least I doubt it.” Ribold muttered downtrodden.

“How? You saw it. Her children got infected and Mary burned them. All of Frau Lange’s power is dedicated to those two children but they’re infected now. Even if she could bring them back they’d be infected with Ruprecht’s plagues.”

“Without all that power focused within her children she won’t be powerless. If anything it just means she could get stronger.”

Chakken asked, “What’s stopping Della Shitbag and the wild bitch from just executing her immediately?”

“They’ll take credit for killing Ruprecht and for taking another alive,” Alfso said.

“For now let’s go home. We’ll figure it out later.” Ribold said.

“By the way Ribold?”

“What?”

“Here’s your dagger.” Alfso said, handing over Draihan’s chainsword.

“Shit I forgot all about it. Thanks Alfso.” Ribold said as he took it.

“Also how the fuck are you alive?” Chakken asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Open your shirt, I want to see if I can see out to the other side.”

Reluctantly Ribold pulled part of his robe away revealing his chest. There was a nasty burned scar but the wound was already healed.

“How the fuck?!” Chakken exclaimed.“Wasn’t that nun running dry on power?”

“I… uh… I think that weapon of hers took my power. So if she burned me with my own flames maybe I can’t get hurt so bad with them.”

Chakken immediately began arguing, “That makes no sense! First off you were stabbed through, second you’re a necro so you’d burn to ash by default! Necromancers can’t make flames, even I know that! What do you think Alfso?”

“Well I don’t know...” Alfso said before smiling at them both, “Maybe God loves him?”

Chakken crossed his arms and huffed, “As if… Lucky bastard...”

***

Frau Lange languished in a dungeon deep beneath the Vatican. Her cell resembled a birdcage with wrought iron bars and a stream of holy water flowed into a tiny moat around the cage. She heard the telltale creak of her door and knew it must’ve been dinner time. A lowly nun came and stepped through the holy water moat and passed Frau Lange her dinner through the bars. Frau Lange looked up and couldn’t believe her eyes.

“It’s been a long time, Frau,” Katharsis said wearing the nun’s habit.

Frau Lange was overcome with emotion both happy and angry while just emitting a stifled laugh of disbelief, “If I haven’t gone mad then I guess the world has for you to be wearing a habit.”

“Well I’m glad you at least recognize an old friend. How are you Frau?”

Frau Lange listed to the side a bit and her voice broke, “My boys are dead, infected. And I can’t get them back. Furthermore, I’m going to be executed here at the Vatican.” She looked sadly back into Katharsis’s eyes for a moment before adding, “But I guess you’re not here about any of that.”

“You’d be right. I’m here to start a war.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Let’s see… I’ve joined another convent. It’ll be useful when it’s time to strike the Vatican. Also later tonight I suppose I’ll assassinate the Cardinal of the Southwest and provide proof that the Cardinals purged Cologne out of fear of the plagues.”

“And here I thought you were here to use me...”

“Oh sure, the necromancers will be baying for blood shouting ‘fight for Frau!’ from the rooftops soon enough. I’m not here to interfere with that one way or another. But tell me this Frau… Why didn’t you convert? Excommunicated or not the Vatican would undoubtedly take your heartfelt conversion in place of another dead enemy. Even if it were a lie it’s just words and you’d survive.”

“Kat… My boys are gone. I don’t really have a reason to go on. So just let me die.”

“I’m just saying I’d have taken that deal. Besides, according to canon law you being excommunicated means that you’ll never be reunited with them.”

“I’ll take my chances.” she said forlornly.

“You’ll make a great martyr Frau. Tens, maybe hundreds of thousands are going to die for you.”

Frau Lange looked Katharsis in the eye for a moment and her tone shifted accusingly, “Did you expect me to get caught Kat?”

“Not really, no. I wasn’t planning on you getting caught but it does support my overall plan for chaos and revolution.” Katharsis paused and smiled sadly, “If it makes you feel better I really thought you’d be stupid enough to attack Ruprecht without any plan and get slaughtered.”

Frau smiled sadly, “Well it’s nice to know I exceeded your expectations at least.”

“Seriously though Frau?”

“What?”

“Survive. Either on the church’s side or the necros it doesn’t matter. I’ll find a use for you. And as for your boys? It had to happen. You won’t want to hear this but they were already stolen from you once. Carrying around little zombie kids is repulsive and beneath you. Ruprecht infecting them a second time was a blessing. Now you can finally grow into the powerful woman I know you can be.”

Frau Lange glowered with darkened eyes, “To hell with you Kat.”

Katharsis shrugged mischievously, “You could always make more kids. You’re not that old,” she said as she turned to leave.

“How would you feel if it were your son?”

Katharsis stopped, “It very nearly was. I let him go so he could grow.”

“And if he died?”

Katharsis turned and shrugged slightly, “Well I always planned on killing him eventually so I guess it saves me the trouble.”

Frau Lange looked carefully at Katharsis’s face before backing away dismissively, “You’re lying.”

“Well at first, I did think murdering the infant of a seduced cardinal would break the Death Paradox, especially if it were my own.” Katharsis sighed, “Yet ultimately I decided against it… for now anyways. It’s almost as if I’m not the villain everyone says I am...” She turned and walked away adding, “Think about what I said, Frau. I’d hate to see a friend waste her life.”

“When are you going to tell him?”

Kat stopped. With a sense of reluctance she responded measuredly, “Tell him what?”

“That his mother is actually a bloody revolutionary, a sinner, by most measures a monster.” Frau Lange said emphatically.

“He doesn’t need to know right now. If he hasn’t figured it out already, he’ll find out when the time is right. I raised him well. He’d never believe it unless he sees it with his own two eyes.”

“Why not include him in your little revolution?”

“Ribold’s a good boy. I didn’t want to be the one to rob him of his innocence. So I let him go. He’ll grow up on his own. Get strong, and return to me. That’s the difference between you and I. Just because something is yours doesn’t mean you can just lock it away. If it loves you it’ll come back on its own.”

“And when he learns about your sins and what you really stand for?”

“He’ll join me.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I never said he had a choice,” Katharsis said as she opened the door and disappeared into the night.

***

Ribold opened the heavy wooden door and leaned inside delicately, “You asked to speak with me Master Vol?”

The old man perked up from his desk, “Yes Ribold. Do come in.”

Ribold stepped forward and closed the door behind him. Vol’s office was dusty as ever and the old man drooped over a map rolled out across his desk.

“Ribold. I read your report about Ruprecht. You and Alfso did very well.”

Ribold bristled slightly and added, “Frau Lange saved our lives. She deserves the credit. The nun too for defeating him.”

“Yes yes I read that too. It seems that nun is rather dangerous. Strange that we’ve never heard of her before?” Vol said scratching his scraggly beard, dropping little flakes of dandruff.

“I’m one of the Unholy 7 already Master Vol but have you ever considered that to be premature? Ruprecht was far beyond us.”

“To be fair Ruprecht was a rival to me once upon a time. I suppose he died still believing that. However he suffered from a lack of vision. His animalcule research was revolutionary but he was too concerned with the minute details. He’d sooner breed the life of an intestine than the dragon it should be attached to.”

“Master Vol, I’ll speak plainly, I don’t belong as one of the Unholy 7. I have neither the skill nor the power.”

Vol countered enthusiastically, “That’s where you’re wrong boy. You have Draihan.”

“Is it really fair that I recover his corpse and inherit his position?”

Vol leaned forward inquisitively, “Why would you not think so?”

“Well, Master Draihan was an incredible man, with a lot of power. I’m neither.”

“Nonsense! Ribold. You’re wrong on so many accounts! First! You recovered a corpse and inherited a position. That doesn’t make you a thief, that makes you an aristocrat! Second! While it’s true that any necromancer could recover the corpse of a superior necromancer it does require talent to make it work. If I died tomorrow and an amateur made me his thrall he’d probably die from the disparity. My power is so great he’d have incredible difficulty controlling me or even bringing me back at all. To use me as a thrall would require incredible innate skill as well as trained talent. Furthermore! Ribold I’ve already read you, and I know your potential. It’s incredible! There’s a reason the church is hunting you and your mother.”

Ribold was letting all the praise wash right past him but he perked up at the mention of his mother. “Has there been any news?”

“No... ” Vol lied cautiously, “Not exactly but if the church had her they’d be flaunting it as they are with Frau Lange.”

Ribold didn’t take the bait, Frau Lange saved his life but mom was mom. “Not exactly? What can you tell me about my mother then?”

Vol studied Ribold’s face very carefully weighing his words, “Your mother is one of the Unholy 7. She can fend for herself.”

“You didn’t answer the question Master Vol.”

Vol paused for several moments before deeply sighing, “Do you really want to know?”

“I’m not stupid. I hear the rumors. My mother is the Twilight Witch. A member of the Unholy 7. An incredible necromancer. I’ve even heard she could rival you.”

“All true Ribold. All true.”

“If she’s a member of the Unholy 7 why don’t you simply recall her here to Todt Stadt? She’d have to obey you right?”

“Ribold, my subordinates are not thralls. I cannot summon them on a whim.”

“Why not?”

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“Ribold,” Vol clasped his hands together and sighed, “Imagine I’m a hunter. My thralls are my hunting dogs that chase down and bring me back my quarry, or at least weaken it enough for me to finish it off. You and the other Unholy 7 are not my dogs. You are my companions. My partners. We may not always agree but we share a common cause and purpose.”

“And that is?”

“Education?”

“What?”

“The church denies the value of necromancy, claiming it is an abomination to all that is holy. We reject that of course. It's both a science and an art. If God didn’t want us to partake in harvesting the potential of the dead; He’d damned well never have created the possibility in the first place! That is our decree. That is who we are. I know we’re… difficult to get along with and some of us overstep our bounds. The church is even right to pursue those necromancers. Like Ruprecht.” Like your mother too, Vol thought silently to himself. “But Eriam, Frau Lange, and Draihan did not deserve to die. Eriam was a poor boy with a thirst for knowledge who couldn’t be sated by blind faith alone. Frau Lange was a broken and meek woman with two dead children. Draihan was a widower looking for a place to die. They all came here and found a common cause. They were the Unholy 7.”

“So what am I?”

“I can’t be sure”

“What was my mother when she came to you?”

“Ah! Katharsis… Katharsis was... something else.”

“Won’t you tell me about her?”

Well I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. “You see… Katharsis, like you, managed to make it here on her own volition. With little difficulty. It’s not often strangers make it through our defenses and into Todt Stadt without a guide or an invitation.”

“You’re saying she was like me and Alfso?”

“Yes, that’s why I emphasize you boys’ education more than most. The others drifted here with help but you two made it all on your own.”

“Why’d she come?”

Oh, that part… I can’t just tell him it was for revenge. That she’s an ambitious woman whose heart is filled with hatred and revenge and intends to destroy absolutely everything. “Well, she came to me because she lost people important to her.”

“People?” Ribold leaned forward and Vol realized Katharsis hadn’t told him anything.

“What did she tell you about where she came from?”

“Only that she didn’t have parents.”

“Well strictly speaking that’s true but… she was raised by some women in a forest. Spinstresses, necromancers, witches. Hard for me to say really, I never knew them. But your mother’s condition-”

“Albinism,” Ribold corrected.

“Yes, well people don’t treat albino orphans very well. Those women took care of her, taught her to read, gave her a basic education even the local children lacked. One day the church heard about an angel hiding in the woods and your mother became a bit of a local oddity. The church couldn’t have the peasantry worshipping a defective girl so they came for her. She escaped but the women who raised her did not. They were murdered by Inquisitors of the Interior. Della Rovere’s people long before he had the position. Katharsis had heard about Todt Stadt from those women. With nowhere left to go she came to us to become strong. Not unlike you.”

“I had no idea. Mother… She’s still alive right!? You have to know! You’re the guildmaster! You know everything!”

“That’s not true. I don’t know everything. What I understand however is that your mother is alive and free. What she’s doing I can’t be sure.”

“Well whenever she returns I’ll be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“To help her of course!”

A very rare shiver ran down Vol’s spine. Is this boy playing me? If it were Kat he’d be taunting me just like this in the open. However he doesn’t seem to be the type. Either way I can’t afford to keep him in Todt Stadt. I should keep him busy. The last thing I need is him stabbing me in the back at his mother’s behest. Vol sighed and shifted some papers on his desk, “You must want to know your next assignment.”

“Yes master.”

Vol rifled through his desk, “I’m assigning a team to you. Do try and keep them alive. You’ll lead them to do our bidding.”

“And that is?”

“Hunt down our enemies and when the time is right, rescue Frau Lange. You’ll need their strength.”

“What about the Unholy 7? Won’t they just come if they’re asked?”

“Not all of them and I’d rather use those the church isn’t as familiar with. Therefore I want you to pick them carefully. You and your team will cooperate with your seniors to break into Rome and save Frau Lange. The Pope will be expecting you so you’ll want to focus on speed because you’ll be heavily outnumbered. Take this file, you’ll find the names of your team inside. Also some information on the Unholy 7 themselves. I leave it to your judgement to decide who and how to recruit.”

“I choose Mother and Alfso.”

“I forbid both.” Vol said plainly.

“Why?!”

“Ribold, I assure you no one can find your mother unless she wants to be found. And as for Alfso I’ve made this mission to minimize risk of all out war. Bringing in the Bahamut will guarantee it. The goal is to save Frau Lange, and not ignite a new crusade!”

“But I don’t even know most of these people!” Ribold said as he began flipping through the pages Vol gave him. Inside were his teammates’s names: Chakken, Makhr, Felix, Klara, Fabienne, and Mateo.

“I picked them myself. Some of them are new but show great promise. I can assure you they will be useful.”

Ribold sighed, “Well at least I know Chakken...”

***

“Abso-fucking-lutely not!” Chakken shouted completely ambivalent to who heard them.

“But Master Vol said-”

“I’m not a necromancer! I just tagged along!”

“But, we’re friends...” Ribold said meeker than he intended.

“Doesn’t matter… I’m not going on another adventure into a fuckin plaguenest because you decided to be Vol’s errand boy!”

“Please!”

“The answer is no!”

“But what else are you gonna do?” Ribold asked, genuinely curious.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean we killed your slave masters. And then you’ve been with us. All you do is complain and wrap yourself in chains. So what will you do now?”

“I’m leaving the country! That’s what I’ll do! I’m going on adventures on my terms!”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m hopping on the first ship that’ll take me and sail whichever way the wind blows.”

“Do you even know how to swim?!”

“No!”

“Are you gonna keep those chains?”

“Uh… Yeah obviously!”

Ribold just palmed his face and shook his head. “At least don’t be a stranger. Say goodbye to Alfso. He’ll be worried about you.”

“And you won’t be?” Chakken asked his tone softening.

“I will but I understand. If you asked me to join you on the boat I’d refuse because I need to see my mother. So I don’t like it but I get it.”

Chakken crossed his arms and grumbled as his chains rattled, “Little bastard actin’ all mature and shit...”

Ribold mimicked his gesture, “Captain bondage acting all cool and shit...”

For the first time in ages cave Chakken laughed.

***

Della Rovere opened the monastery door and stepped into the training room. Inside Mary had discarded her habit and was drilling her movements. She attacked with incredible speed and focus, none of which should have been capable of even threatening Ruprecht. She launched herself at the final target and Della Rovere intercepted her, grasping her misericorde with his bare hand.

“Holy father!? Are you harmed?! I didn’t see you come in!” she shouted surprised at first and then deeply worried she nearly just assassinated the Cardinal of the Interior. Whatever Della Rovere’s reasons for getting in her way the blame would still fall on her.

“Relax child,” Della Rovere said, grasping her misericorde, it’s sharp but insufficient. “I’ve come to check on the hero is all.”

Mary tried to step back a respectful distance but Della Rovere only squeezed even tighter in return. Mary jerked a bit at the resistance.

“Uh… Holy Father? Are… Are you ok? My misericorde… It’s… stuck.”

Della Rovere released it and she nearly fell backwards. He examined his hands carefully. The cut was barely noticeable. “I wanted to experience the blade that killed Ruprecht myself.” Mary turned the dagger over hilt first and offered it while bowing. Della Rovere walked past and waved her gesture off dismissively. “I suppose it wasn’t the sharpness that destroyed the animalcule threat, but the fire.” Della Rovere turned abruptly, “Show me.”

“As you wish Holy Father,” Mary replied. She concentrated and a light hue of blue and orange encapsulated the misericorde. Della Rovere could feel the air in the room warm. “I’m sorry. That’s new. Let me try again.” Mary concentrated harder and a familiar orange blaze engulfed the misericorde.

Della Rovere admired the little blaze, it’s still not enough. “That bluish hue, it merely means you’re advancing further. Practice with it and you’ll be able to sustain your fighting against multiple opponents longer at the cost of strength.”

“I see. Thank you for your wisdom Holy Father.”

“Tell me again how you killed Ruprecht.” Della Rovere said, extending his hand for her misericorde and she reluctantly complied.

As Mary recounted the battle once again Della Rovere examined the misericorde within his hands. It easily absorbed his considerable power. NOW it’s fit to kill Ruprecht. Which means that the misericorde likely absorbed Ribold’s power too. How else would he survive such a powerful attack? Mary isn’t stupid. She must have at least guessed what happened by now.

“Stop.”

Mary stifled herself nervously.

“What do you think killed Ruprecht?”

“I can’t say with confidence that he’s even dead. His animalcules-”

“We have every reason to believe he died and that the Bahamut laid waste to the mountain and the remaining animalcules. However what do you think killed Ruprecht?”

Mary cocked her head uncertain, Is this a rhetorical question? Am I supposed to say the misericorde? Or something more poetic like ‘arrogance’ or something? “Well, I killed him with the misericorde.”

“With just a stab?”

She corrected herself, “The fires killed him.”

“Your fires?” Della Rovere asked incredulously.

Mary’s spine stiffened and she truly didn’t know what she was supposed to say. She suspected it was Ribold but had no idea how Della Rovere would react to such a blasphemous assertion. Even suggesting that a necromancer lent holy power to a nun to defeat another necromancer could render a death sentence. Confessing to Cardinal Della Rovere would be tantamount to suicide. However Mary knew Della Rovere wasn’t stupid and may have reached the same conclusion.

Mary spoke carefully lest she be drawn and quartered or crucified in the square. “The possibility, your holiness is... absurd. Madness bordering on heresy even. To even consider the possibility is proof of the toll of battle on my mind. I… Deeply apologize but I cannot say.”

“Tell me,” he commanded.

“Even suggesting as much would be an unspeakable blasphemy...”

“In the name of God tell me what you think Mary. I will be the arbiter of blasphemy here. Think of this if you must as confession, of which I absolve you of all sin, even for a temporary lapse in faith.”

Mary nodded but her throat was choked in fear as she softly whispered, “Ribold picked up the misericorde when I dropped it. When I used it against Ruprecht I felt far more powerful than before. But the fire wasn’t mine. I don’t know how but it seems the misericorde absorbed his power. That’s how I killed Ruprecht. It happened so fast I didn’t realize at first what was happening. Only after the battle did I realize I was somehow wielding Ribold’s flames.”

“When did you realize that it could be a necromancer’s… fire?” Della Rovere said in a quiet whisper.

“When Ruprecht used Ribold as a shield, I stabbed him in the heart and saw the look of fear in his eyes. Yet instead of igniting into ashes on the wind he merely fell and I had an opening to finish off Ruprecht. When it all was over and Ribold left on his own power.”

“You didn’t include this in your report...” Della Rovere said sternly and then added quietly, “That was wise.” Mary’s eyes widened, this conversation was as dangerous as any of the Unholy 7 and she couldn’t read Della Rovere at all. Serene and gentle with a churning sea of rage behind a thin veneer. She felt fear, fear of a man she admired but whose intentions were unknown. Della Rovere continued, “As Cardinal of the Interior, I am privy to the most forbidden of truths. Never tell another soul or I wouldn’t be able to protect you.”

“Do you know why Ribold had sanctified fire hidden deep within him?” Mary asked quietly, incredulous.

Because he’s my son. “Ribold is special.”

“How do you know this?”

Della Rovere decided when in doubt to blame Katharsis, “Did you forget his mother is the most dangerous woman in all of Europe?”

“So you think Katharsis Merron somehow gave him sanctified fire?” Mary asked in disbelief. Mary was already scared of Katharsis but for a necromancer to wield fire was absurd as hearing she shackled God.

When you lie use part of the truth and hide in plain sight, Della Rovere thought to himself. “Katharsis is a special woman, if anyone could accomplish such a task it’d be her. This is why we’re hunting Ribold. He’s too dangerous to be left to the necromancers. We have to rescue him, convince him our side is right.” Della Rovere’s tone changed, “Or kill him. Tell me Mary do you think Ribold can be saved?”

“Holy Father all children can be saved by the boundless generosity of the living god. But I wonder, if Katharsis is so dangerous is Ribold a trap for the church? Can we save someone whose very existence is a threat to all that is holy?”

“What is holiness Mary?”

“Purity, tranquility, and love,” she replied without hesitation.

“True but… Holiness is de facto the power of our fires. Every man, woman, and child must make a choice. Join us in the warm embrace of God’s flames or reject Him and spend eternity in the dark with the rodents and the corpses. A necromancer cannot use holy flames. Likewise a holyman cannot resurrect the dead, denying them God’s warm embrace.”

“How do those two truths account for Ribold then?”

“Did Ribold ever use holy flames in the time you’ve observed him?”

“Never, he was more surprised than I was.”

“No doubt another blasphemous surprise by Katharsis. The fact your misericorde absorbed such magnificent holy flames from Ribold means that it isn’t too late for him.”

“But His Holiness Pope Pious XXIII excommunicated him.”

Della Rovere selected his words carefully, “It’s not wrong to excommunicate the Unholy 7, but the necromancers never should have elevated Ribold to that position. Tell me child, in your estimation is Ribold as evil as Ruprecht was?”

“Not at all. He does engage in defiling corpses as any necromancer does but I’ve never seen him kill before.”

Perhaps there’s still time left. “Mary, please help me save this boy. It is my belief he’s been set up by the necromancers to be excommunicated and therefore have no choice but to wallow in darkness. Help me save him and he’ll be a great asset to the church.” Della Rovere added watching her eyes carefully, “After having failed to save Sofia I would imagine you would want to do a better job next time.”

Mary winced at the mention of Sofia’s tragedy. Mary blamed herself for Sofia’s death under the stones in that damned mountain. “Of course Holy Father. I’ll do anything I can to help,” she said bowing deeply.

“Good. See that you do.” Della Rovere said. He turned and walked back to the door contemplating carefully, At least now I don’t have to kill her too. She may even prove useful…

“Holy father?”

Della Rovere froze. He dared not turn around while his mind was clouded with dark thoughts, “What is it my child?”

“If… If it pleases you… My misericorde...”

Della Rovere tossed it over his shoulder and left. Mary watched as it landed next to her ankle and embedded itself into the wooden floor. Mary jiggled and pulled it from the floor but noticed something was very wrong. Strange… Della Rovere held onto the misericorde for much longer. Why does the flame it absorbed feel weaker? He may be underestimating Ribold. I’m sorry Della Rovere but if Ribold is what he seems to be we may be better off destroying him, provided we even can.

Della Rovere’s flames were still more potent than hers so Mary vowed to only use them on Ribold himself if left with no other choice.

Bells rang out suddenly. One, then another, then another, then dozens more. Mary ran outside and the street was filled with anxious unrest. “What’s happening!?” Mary shouted over the sounds of the bells to a nearby sister.

“A Cardinal has been assassinated here in Rome! His Holiness has declared an emergency!”

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