“What are you talking about, you prick? I don’t have any plans to do something like that myself!” Prisca rebukes in frustration. Though, realizing that Barden’s actions came from a place of worry, she feels slightly conflicted concerning her anger towards him. She sighs. “I don’t have any fantasies to suicide by guard today, Barden.”
The gray feathered draconid takes a good look at her face. He can read her well and gestures to the woman Sutty and the man Leon to let go of her. Angelidis calms down as well, her heart going through many different emotions in the past few seconds. She is slightly touched that he would stop Prisca from doing what he thought was reckless.
Barden only appears confused at this moment. He tries to decipher what Prisca could mean by asking him to make that promise, but he can’t figure it out. He looks closely at her face. He is quite taller than her; when Prisca sees his sharp, vertical slit pupils staring at her, she feels both the fear of a miella being stared at by a dragon, and a little girl being stared at by their father.
Barden opens his mouth to ask.
“Then… Why did you ask me that question? You wouldn’t ask me to promise anything unless you had a way to actually get rid of that eyesore. What do you have planned… No. No, perhaps what I should be asking is, what is going to happen?”
“I… I can’t confirm anything. I don’t know if what I think isn’t going to happen, really won't happen.” Prisca fidgets with her hands and looks away from Barden’s gaze, finally losing her staring contest.
“Don’t speak in riddles.” Barden scolds.
“You’re one to talk.” Prisca scoffs. Barden frowns in annoyance.
“So, you just want me to promise. If that abomination is destroyed, you wish for me to leave?”
“…Yes. Don’t… sacrifice yourself, old man.”
Barden trades glances with his confidants. They seem to want him to solve this issue by just getting it over with and making this promise with her. Though, each of them seem to believe it’s something that’s not going to happen. They frown slightly. Though they may wish, though they may pray to Panaphon and Savitarius, they don’t believe that the statue is going to be destroyed.
Seeing Prisca so optimistic fills them with a mix of anger and sadness. They can only wonder to themselves, what will happen to her when that hope is dashed? Still, Barden says the right thing.
“I promise, Prisca, my dear. I promise that I will absolutely leave when that statue is destroyed.”
Prisca looks back towards him, her eyes filled with a brilliant hope. Now all that has to happen is for the impossible to take place. She bites her lips wondering what outcome Shaula will deliver.
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***
Barden cannot believe it. He had seen the light, the truth. Or perhaps he had just seen the glory of the nobility. He can count with his fingers every instance that he’s seen someone of heroic power go full force, either with spell or through physical combat.
He had seen something truly wondrous today. Something that is testament to the implicit truth of this world. He cannot conclusively prove that Panaphon or Savitarius, his deities of honor and worship, still exist in this world.
He has not received divine messages from them. He has not been given their blessing. He has not communed with them.
Yet he still prays to them and still feels them in his heart. He will never stop worshiping them, for he has faith. Faith is a crucial aspect to spirituality and religion in general regardless of the world.
On Earth, many religions are supported through the notion of faith. For example, in Christianity, God does not need to show himself. He does need to prove himself. He only has to be worshiped. Only the faithful will reach the kingdom of heaven, not those who would tempt the Lord in order to prove he exists.
However, this is not the case on Omicron, especially for the humans. The humans here do not have faith that their Lord exists; they do not need it. They have proof that he exists.
Through the existences known as the heroic nobles, every demihuman upon Omicron’s surface must acknowledge that Osva does exist. What else could the power of the nobility be if not divinely granted?
Once again, today Barden saw that power manifest itself. A woman with a shining face ran and leaped over a barricade of guards. Her speed was phenomenal, but Barden, a draconid, could follow her surprisingly precise movements. Then, he had seen something that made his heart sink.
The woman with the shining face was impaled, right through her heart. He knew that this was her injury as he comprehends higher tier healing magic than even Prisca. Right now, here at Maz square, he is likely the most gifted healer.
So, he understands with certainty that this woman died before his eyes, the placement of the diamond spear’s exit wound through her back making it obvious.
Yet, her light didn’t dim. Somehow, she had destroyed the spear impaling her, likely another diamond creation. Yet, it was destroyed as if it was made of glass. The woman then climbed onto the statue and eventually melted it through. The crystal mage, definitely a noble as well, couldn’t damage her.
Then, she burned off all her clothes and appeared to everyone as the sun in human form.
She was beautiful. A power of unparalleled brilliance. For whatever reason she tried to make enemies with the Tritol barony, as she had succeeded in destroying the statue.
Though, he only feels giddy. He never had faith in the nobility. Being born of their class, their special race, makes one genetically inclined to defend Osva, the church and the Federation, that is what Barden believes.
To keep the status quo, to preserve the antiquated power dynamics, and to keep things luxurious and prosperous for themselves most of all.
Yet, it seems he owes his life to this unknown noble, a debt he might even be inclined to pay, should he meet her again and confirm as to why she chose to destroy the statue. He sees her figure, a slightly red cloak of light, as she escapes the area. He doesn’t take his eyes off her as she departs the square.
It reminds him of his promise with Prisca. At this point, his worries return, in more force than usual.