Pontifex Milo Sunstar was miffed. Toliaro had not reported back from his mission. While the boy was not one of the twelve Archons he was still one of the divinebound. He had a shard of Iaro, the dead god of the sun, and was in line to become an S-ranked adventurer within the society. For him to disappear, especially when hunting a beast with Shadow Affinity was preposterous.
Perhaps it was for this reason that he elected to send scouts instead of one of the Archons. When looking back upon his actions later he would regret them immensely as it allowed a usurper to claim a shard. However, in the moment he was striding with purpose through the vaulted halls of Sun’s Rise, the main temple of their order. As Pontifex, he laid claim to a great deal of authority within its halls and it was this same authority that he was seeking to flex.
His guards followed him to his main office where he immediately sat down behind his desk of white Sun Oak, the beautiful swirls of the grain contrasting wonderfully with the golden embellishments around its edge. He barely noticed the beauty as he slid a sheet of equally white wood of the same quality. He focused his power, the task made immensely easier by the quality of the wood used. The wood flared before lines seared themselves upon the wood in ever-increasing intricacies. The message itself was relatively simple, written in clear sunscript.
The nuances, however, were objectively more important. The different swirls that the power took on indicated just who had made the message tablet just as the wood itself denoted status. Nobody who saw the tablet could claim ignorance of its importance, just as those who read it couldn’t claim to not know who had sent it. It was especially clear to anyone who had magical senses as the wood exuded not only its own aura but a hint of the one who had stamped it.
He focused minutely and a light on his desk flared with momentary brilliance. Even as it faded there was a rapid but steady sound of approaching footsteps and the guards opened the door just in time for a man to slip in and opened it again for him after he had taken the tablet and bowed just in time for him to leave once more. Milo Sunstar smiled as he always did when observing the impeccable service of the temple staff toward him. It was good to be a Pontifex.
Milo was one of three and his smile soured at the thought of the other two. He momentarily considered the idea that it was one of them poaching his up-and-coming talent before dismissing the thought. They might have different focuses being from different continents but his peers were steadfast in obeying the accords. The Sun Engine needed constant maintenance after the original star began falling apart and each major temple required the others to keep the prayers of the masses flowing.
Like he had earlier in the day, Milo dismissed Toliario from his mind. There were other things to consider and while the soon-to-be S-Rank was troublesome there were still higher forces that the Pontifex had to juggle on a daily basis. Such as the powerful presence approaching his door. Milo sighed even as his guards admitted the figure they could no more bar from entry than the Pontifex himself.
The man’s stature wasn’t immediately impressive. He was slight and lithe, dressed in off-white apparel that was a combination of loose comfort and military rigidity. Just like the man wearing them, they blended the two seamlessly. The material was made from high-grade wool shorn from a Sunram. The embellishments were pure gold which held the extremely high-grade enchantments that gave the outfit its considerable power.
The clothing, looking like a priest's robe modified for combat, was the pinnacle of Aether-Weave. It could stop most attacks in their tracks while allowing the man to flow in battle unhindered unlike the clunking metal adorning Milo’s guards. The prohibitive cost of such vestments made it one of the few of its kind in the world. One of twelve, in fact.
Archon Seren Offiaro looked around the Pontifex’s office unimpressed. As he should be. Unlike his peers, Milo did not begrudge the Archons their seeming indifference and lack of deference. As a priest who had risen through the Ranks to become Pontifex on his own merit, he was a true believer in the Archons and their might. They were truly divinebound with an importance that couldn’t be understated.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
It was thus with only minor annoyance at the theatrics that Milo rose to greet the Archon. “Archon Offiaro,” He said, stressing the man’s divine last name, “to what do I owe this honor you have given me by bestowing me with your presence?” He read the man’s face and its minutest shift clued him in to the fact that such pleasantries were grating. So he followed up his question by motioning toward the hearth and its twin chairs that sat facing each other, as opposed to his desk and the single chair that faced it. He watched as the Archon received the more informal sitting arrangement with grace but with the slightest relief of tension.
Milo gave the man a genuine smile. He was always pleased when he was able to put people at ease, whether that be from his observations or simple presence. It didn’t matter that he was younger than the Archon in years. He had always been this way and believed it was the main reason why no other role suited him better than being a priest. He could have been the next Toliaro in his youth but had surrendered that path to others. Now he was Pontifex and had no intentions of giving up the post until his death.
His attention turned to Seren Offiaro as the man took his seat. For a time the two men simply stared at each other. Milo was unbothered. He had too much respect for the Archon to dismiss him and didn’t mind the silence as it gave him further time to study the man. He had heard of Seren Offiaro, of course. The man was diligent and dedicated to the church. As an Archon his duties were varied but the main one was protecting the Sun Engine as it tore through the sky. As a being with enough shards to form a Sun Core, an Archon was the only being capable of both guiding the Sun Engine and protecting it from Night Terrors.
Seeing the Archon here was a surprise but not unexpected as they served in shifts. Seren Offiaro was close to his next shift but it was still almost a month away. So, Milo waited, content to be still and observe even lighting his servant light, the one in charge of tea. If the Archon knew what the light was for he didn’t comment and the tea was soon brought. Letting the servant serve them, the Pontifex continued to exchange stares with the man in front of him. It wasn’t often that he had the chance with most Archons serving the Sun Engine and Seren himself was often on another continent when not serving.
His thoughts came to an end when the Archon spoke. “Something has shifted.” Seren’s voice was soft and contrasted with his militant bearing. Milo motioned for him to continue without asking questions and the man’s mouth twitched upward. “The balance of the world feels off. Too many of the old gods have fallen with mortals fighting over scraps and their Authority begins to curdle. We feel it.”
This had Milo raising his eyebrows. Authority was something that the System took seriously. It was the basis of the world, the underlying pinnings of reality put in place by the Maker himself. If what the Archon said was true then the world was heading into a dark time. When Authority went bad it tended to break reality and when that happened, well, it was best that it didn’t come to that.
“What would you all have me do?” Milo said urgently. He hadn’t missed the fact that the Archon had used the term We when talking about sensing the disturbance. He didn’t miss the minute quirk of the man’s eyebrow in acknowledgment.
“Prepare the church. Prepare the people. Prepare the land.” The Archon’s words were firm but unyielding as the sun’s march across the sky. Milo simply nodded accepting the commission. Even as he was nodding the Archon was rising to his feet.
He rose with the Archon and followed him as he went to the door and left. Milo then hurried to his desk and began pulling out more wooden tablets. He would need to send messages to the other Churches of the Sun with their own orders. He would then send messages to the other varied churches that existed to see if corroboration was possible. He would be remiss in his duty if he did otherwise.
None of them were as coordinated as the Church of the Sun but then again none of them had to keep a giant flaming engine from going out and killing them all in the process. It didn’t matter. If authority was going bad then the other churches needed to know. And extra confirmation wouldn’t hurt. He had gotten the information from an Archon with strong hints that it was something felt by all of them. If that was the case perhaps the other divinebound could shed some light on it. Milo sighed even as he reached for another tablet. He had a lot of work to do and all thoughts of the missing Toliaro slipped from his mind.