Gallen

Bishop Gallen was stirred from his meditation by a small bump in the road. His carriage rode relatively smoothly along the Golden Road leading to Oxgate, but usually, even the roughest roads could not break his concentration. His mind was simply lacking focus after the task he was given.

The caravan he traveled with was composed of several Holy Knights sworn to escort and protect the upper hierarchy of the church. Rather than going weeks by sea to reach Galatea for the Festival of the Azure Moon, Gallen would use the method of teleportation exclusively used by the upper echelon of the church, known as the uberoch.

The ultra-wealthy nobility of the empire could afford to use teleportation circles crafted by evokers, but doing so cost a small fortune. The Church of the Holy Trinity did not need to use such methods. Unbeknownst to the general public, the higher ranks of the church had access to powerful artifacts known as uberoch mirrors. These mirrors stood nearly ten feet tall and were mounted on pure blackened steel etched with exquisite designs that could only have come from one of the most exceptional artisans in the empire.

Uberochs were crafted somewhere in Trinity City, the religious capital of the empire, and were placed in every major city. Only clergymen of the rank of bishop or higher knew of their existence as well as their most trusted staff. The mirrors could transport people and objects from one mirror to another from anywhere in the empire, act as a direct communication device between any two mirrors, and possessed many other powers known only to the archbishops and Cardinal Four.

The uberoch was managed by a transporter who specialized in teleportation magic under the employ of the church. These kinds of magicians were rare and highly sought after by those in power, for they were the only ones capable of performing cross-country teleportation. When the bishop heard that this latest outlaw magician, Don Traveler, used powerful teleportation magic in his city, he had considered the possibility of offering him a position as his own personal transporter in exchange for his life. This thought lay dormant in the farthest reaches of Gallen’s mind, for he had far more significant matters to consider.

Bishop Gallen fluffed his feathers in an attempt to keep himself warm. No matter how long he lived in the Travenhall Empire, he could never acclimate to the colder climate. He spent his entire youth in Galatea, where it was so hot all year round that the women of the village could cook soup without a fire. The fall brought with it a cool breeze that was indicative of an even colder winter.

Despite his aversion to the Travenhall climate, Gallen was not particularly excited to travel to Galatea for the Festival of the Azure Moon. Instead of spending his time there dining on exquisite foreign delicacies and spectating the grand ceremonies of the Galateans, he would be planning to commit the greatest act of terror possible against his own people.

“Is everything all right, Your Excellency?” Commander Khadar asked in Galatean. He was so large that he was able to keep pace alongside Gallen’s carriage at a mere brisk walk.

Gallen peered out the window and replied in Galatean, “Yes, Khadar. All is well.”

“You are lying,” Khadar blurted.

“I didn’t realize the Gods gifted you with psychinesis as well.”

“I do not need magic like yours to know when something is troubling you. We have been friends for nearly three Azure Moons now. You always say all is well when nothing is well.”

Gallen smiled. “I should know better than to try to hide anything from you, old friend.”

Khadar and Gallen were both orphaned by the sap plague that befell Boukua. They were raised within the same monastery and took care of one another even as their paths began to diverge. Cardinal Ollen ordered Gallen to be discreet with his task, but he never specifically swore him to secrecy. If he could share the burden of this task with anyone, it would be Khadar.

“Shall we stop the caravan and take a walk for a while?” Khadar asked. Gallen would have him join him in his carriage, but Khadar was far too large to fit inside.

“Yes, that would be pleasant.”

Khadar trumpeted through his trunk and yelled in Traven, “Halt the caravan! The bishop wishing to stretch him legs!” He did not take to Traven nearly as well as Gallen did.

The caravan slowly came to a stop. The bishop let himself out of the carriage and dismissed his entourage. “Let’s stroll into that field there. I would like to escape any eavesdropping ears.”

“Lead, and I shall follow.”

The two holy men strolled out into the field far enough away from the caravan to be out of earshot even from the salamandra knights. The clergy guard stayed on standby at the road should they be needed, but they all knew Khadar was more than enough protection for the bishop.

“Tell me what troubles you so close to our favorite festival?” Khadar asked.

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Gallen paused before answering, “Khadar, I beg that you do not take offense to what I am about to ask, but is there any order you would refuse if it came from the church?”

“I would do anything for the church, Your Excellency.”

“Are you certain? Is there not one act you can think of that would be unacceptable?”

Khadar raised his snout to his forehead as he thought about it. “Perhaps if they tried to transfer me from your parishes, I would do my best to make them reconsider.”

“Of course,” Gallen chuckled. “I figured you would say that.”

“Why do you ask such questions?”

“Do you recall that Cardinal Ollen graced our city with his presence recently?”

Khadar nodded.

“He came to announce that he has already chosen me to become the next archbishop,” Gallen said sullenly.

“That’s great news!” Khadar trumpeted. Gallen’s melancholy calmed his expression. “Isn’t it?”

“It is, for the most part. His Eminence told me that I am his first choice for the position, but the other three cardinals have not yet made up their mind. They wish to test me first.”

“This doesn’t make sense. Surely there is not another candidate more suited to the position than you. The Gods have chosen to gift you with incredibly powerful magic, and few others understand the three bibles as well as you do.”

“I am far from the only magically gifted bishop. The Cardinal Four simply wish to give me a test worthy of an archbishop.”

“You came from less than nothing and ascended to the position of bishop of your own merit. What more could the Cardinal Four possibly need to see?”

“It is not our place to question the will of the Cardinal Four or the Divine Seer. Regardless of our opinion of the matter, the fact is that I am to be tested.”

“What is this test?”

Gallen’s face grew pale under his feathers.

I wonder if it is wise for me to tell the truth. I could use psychinesis to force Khadar to forget everything I just told him and continue our journey as if nothing happened. Gallen looked up at his friend’s large concerned eyes. No . . . I could never do that to my truest friend.

“The Cardinal Four have tasked me with destroying the Tree of Bouk.”

Khadar stopped in his tracks with eyes wide open. “That . . . that’s not possible.”

“It is, Khadar. Cardinal Ollen has already provided me with the means.”

“But why?” Khadar shuddered. “The Tree of Bouk is one of Galatea’s most sacred and cherished landmarks.”

To see such a towering brute shudder like a sickly child made Gallen feel uneasy. “You know as well as I how faithless our people have become. No matter how much our grand empire gives to them, they choose to spit on the ground at our Gods’ feet. They continue to elevate their gods above the Holy Trinity.” Gallen ground his beak. “While our church provides them with solid roads for trade, technology to extract water from the ground, and missions to care for their sick and orphaned, they still choose to worship ancient forgotten deities who only bring ruin through terrors such as the sap plague and the barbaric practice of self-mutilation.”

Khadar stood with his shoulders slumped and eyes to the ground. “I have pondered this dilemma for quite some time now. The state of our home has weighed heavy on my mind ever since we attended the last Festival of the Azure Moon eight years ago. I lie awake at night ashamed of my own people and, at the same time, worried about the state of their souls.”

“We share this same empathy for our people,” Gallen said, resting his palm on Khadar’s large hands.

“But why destroy the tree?”

“That tree stands as a religious icon to Bouk. In essence, the people see it as if it were Bouk himself standing before them. Destroying this tree in the name of the Holy Trinity will show the people that our Gods are greater. Not only that, but we will also be ridding our people of the destructive sap plague that continues to seep from the roots of this so-called holy tree. When the smoke has cleared, it will be me who reins in the lost children of Galatea. I will save our people from eternal damnation.”

Khadar turned away and crossed his arms. He scratched his forehead with his trunk.

“I will need your help, my oldest friend. There will be a reckoning that I cannot hope to face without your three blades. Can I trust you to do what your church has commanded you?”

Khadar turned and stared at his friend with his sad eyes. He kneeled before Gallen, now able to meet his gaze at the same level. “When we were young, it was you who made it possible for me to follow my dream of becoming a knight. You overcame the overwhelming odds against you to rise to the position of a bishop and used your station to assure that I be given a chance to serve my church. My loyalty is to you first and the church second. If this is the way you believe is best, then I will use my three blades to cut that blasted tree down to the last twig and any who dare stand in your way.”

Gallen smiled and put a hand on Khadar’s shoulder. “You carry the divine gift of diligence well, my friend. I knew I could place my faith in you. Let us bring our people back from the edge of the abyss.”

“Anything for you, Your Excellency.”

“Anything for the church, Knight Commander,” Gallen corrected. He admired Khadar’s loyalty but was uneasy about being placed above the church. Though it was minor sacrilege to put a mere bishop above the Cardenal Four or the Divine Seer, Gallen did not deem it necessary to press the issue. “Come, let us return to the road.”

The pair rejoined the caravan and continued on their journey to Oxgate. Before the end of the week, they would be arriving within the cathedral in Boukua. The bishop had until then to formulate a plan. The Tree of Bouk was hollowed out by the ancient druidic shamans many millennia ago and was currently being used as a palace for the king of Galatea. Convincing King Kitka to evacuate the tree so that Gallen could destroy it would prove difficult. Kitka had always shown respect to the Gods of the Travenhall Empire he owed his allegiance to, but he was also known to be a stout worshipper of the Galatean god, Bouk. Gallen would need to use every ounce of his diplomatic power to ensure the most ideal outcome of his plan. Though Khadar had unshaken faith in him, Gallen was beginning to lose faith in himself.

It was not too late to turn back. Gallen could use his psychinesis to message the cardinal instantly and tell him they would need to recruit another bishop to perform this task. Perhaps Bishop Ayotola in Boukua would be better suited. Gallen’s chances of advancing to archbishop would be forever stifled, but this burden would also be lifted from his shoulders. He would be free to glide by for the rest of his days unhindered by the pressure to advance, with all the comforts of living a bishop’s luxury.

But was this what he wanted? To clip his own wings, cursed to slowly descend to the ground and never to rise again? No. The cardinal gave him his one chance to fly among the angels, and he was prepared to fly through a raging storm to get there. Anything for the church.