That’s the archbishop?
The boy wasn’t even hiding his level, allowing Dallion to see all his skills and traits. Then again, maybe there was a reason for that. His awakening level was greater than Dallion’s by seven and his mind trait was close to fifty percent more at an eye-watering one hundred and forty-nine. Just like Dallion, he had all twelve skills at a hundred, and all seven traits. The archbishop’s magic was abnormally low, barely in the low fifties, but other than that, he could be said to be the most powerful awakened in the world.
“Surprised?” the archbishop asked.
“Only someone from Earth would come up with the name ivory tower,” Dallion said. “Why the glasses? With your level of perception, you shouldn’t need them.”
“Everyone has their curses. You’ve been through a few, I see.” The boy reached towards Dallion. Cyan blue magic threads emerged from his fingers gently floating forward.
Dallion resisted the urge to flee or slice the threads as he normally would. Deep inside, he knew that to be a tactical mistake, yet he had a feeling that nothing bad would happen to him. As the threads wrapped around his body, he was proven right.
PERMANENT EFFECT REMOVED
You no longer suffer the effects of BLEEDING.
PERMANENT EFFECT REMOVED
You no longer suffer the effects of BLEEDING.
PERMANENT EFFECT REMOVED
You no longer suffer the effects of PARALYSIS.
Red rectangles flashed before his eyes.
“You’d have dealt with them on your own in time,” the archbishop said, pulling back his magic threads. “To answer your question, that’s what happens when we overdo it. It takes a lot to see into the future, and just like splitting, there’s only a partial guarantee that things would end up the way you see.”
“So, your prophecies really are true…” Dallion felt as if he had been kicked in the guts.
“You can have future visions as well. Any awakened can. It’s more pronounced with otherworlders, but not exclusive… as long as you can maintain it. I was lucky to get it upon my awakening and even luckier to be born in a time when the inhabitants of this world were more understanding. Interested in the secret? I’ll gladly tell you.”
This sounded far too much like a trick question for Dallion to respond.
“Of course, you’ll have to use up the Moonstones you’ve obtained so far.”
Yeah, right, Dallion thought. He had used Moonstones in battle, so he knew precisely how powerful they could be. Needing to waste them all just for a glimpse into a future, that by the archbishop’s own words wasn’t certain, sounded like a terrible deal.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why?” the archbishop repeated the question.
“Why all the plots? Why all the games? Why the copyettes? Why have the Order constantly build monasteries all over the world, yet never taking control? At your level, you must have controlled more than half the world.” The smile on the other’s face made him pause. “You still control over half the world, yet you don’t do anything with it.”
“And what do you think I should do? Rule like Tamin? Conquer the world like Tiallia? One of my copyettes already told you that’s never been the point. All I want is for the world, this world, to last forever. Only two things threaten that. One—” the boy raised the index finger of his left hand “—the void manages to devour it. And two—” he raised a second finger “—someone conquers the world and challenges the Moons. Just like the Architect did.”
“You know about the Architect.” Dallion swallowed.
“I know everything the Order knows.” The boy laughed. “All the knowledge gathered throughout the millennia, from the creation of the eternal city all the way to today, is safely stored in the building next to us.”
The claim verged on boasting, but it could be done. It would require millions of tomes and scrolls of knowledge, stored in thousands of library items within the grand citadel. Even without any awakening powers, the knowledge alone was enough to make anyone the greatest force in the world.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Dallion was more than certain that information about the Star’s technology could also be found there. Forbidden to the masses, it would provide a huge advantage to those who knew what to make of it. Metalins, bladerers, living armors, the imperial rockets, even computers created using the forbidden knowledge within these walls, and best of all—here it wasn’t forbidden. Neither the clerics nor any noble would do anything about it, because they were in the heart of the Order, a place only reachable by invitation.
“You’re welcome to take a peek if you want. As my guest, you’re welcome to everything on the island.”
“And I won’t end up like the other visitors?”
The archbishop shook his head.
“I doubt you have the necessary devotion. If you had accepted my offer and joined the Order before passing the fifth gate, who knows?” He shrugged. “But even then, I doubt it. You’re an Earthling, just like me. There’s so few of us now that we must stick together, especially with the world at risk.”
Several of the nearby bushes slowly crawled towards the boy. Finding it amusing, he reached out, petting them as if they were domesticated animals. The behavior was very similar to that of Emperor Tamin, yet there was no telling who was copying who. If levels alone were to be considered, the archbishop’s was a lot higher. At the same time, the emperor had been strong enough to cast out all the clerics from the capital without response.
“Why are you sure that whoever passes the next gate will destroy the world?” Dallion asked, somewhat regaining his cool. “A lot of good things came from the Architect.”
“A lot of bad things came as well,” the other countered. “But let’s assume that you’re right. Even if nothing but joy, mirth, and goodness came from the Architect’s actions, what’s left of the world before that?”
“They got banished?”
“The colossi were banished, but were they part of the previous world? Even I can’t tell you that, and it’s because time itself only starts with the creation of a world. Even the Architect couldn’t change that. If he could, he’d have left at least a memento of some sort.”
It was an irrefutable claim. The memory fragment Dallion had glimpsed which showed that time period was through the eyes of the Purple Moon’s familiar. Conveniently, the creature had been born at the start of the new era. Did that prove anything with certainty, though? Just like the archbishop’s prophecies, a lot was left to interpretation.
“You want to kill the emperor.” Dallion came to the conclusion. “But you can’t. If the empire falls, Tiallia would achieve what you’re trying to prevent.”
“Something like that.” The boy kept on petting the gathered bushes.
“Why not just replace him? You have copyettes.”
“It has been tried.”
Dallion’s eyes widened as he stared at the archbishop.
“Centuries ago. Back then, the empire was a lot weaker than it was now. I had seen the potential danger in a prophecy, so I decided to step in and take matters into my own hands. Unfortunately, the attempt failed. The ones I put my trust in proved less capable than expected. The emperor survived with his life and issued me an ultimatum: I don’t meddle with him or his heirs, and he won’t try to take over the world.”
“A perfect stalemate.”
“Yes, but only as long as no external factors came into play. Your beloved mentor changed all that when he created that doomsday abomination of his.” A single flash of regret emanated from the archbishop. “It forced me to divert my attention from the emperor to stop the void. Meanwhile, Tamin took advantage of the situation and started a series of conflicts, leading to where we are today.”
The problem with the explanation was that it might well turn out to be the truth, just as it could be the most intricate conspiracy theory ever. The Star’s attack on Nerosal, the death of a member of the imperial family, the poison plague… that and dozens more world-shattering events could have been caused with the sole purpose of providing a pretext for the emperor to take over the world. Naturally, it was just as possible that the archbishop was full of crap.
Dallion took another look at the cathedral door. It was obvious what was being asked of him—he knew that much even before coming to the island—but now that it had come to it, his determination had waned.
“Are you so eager to protect the man who slaughtered the greatest awakened of his own empire out of fear that they might one day replace him?”
“You could have saved them as well, but you didn’t,” Dallion countered. “Now you want me to do your dirty work for you.”
The bushes suddenly scattered away, along with any plants in the immediate vicinity.
Careful, Giaccia told Dallion.
The archbishop straightened up, then calmly removed his glasses and started to clean them with the sleeve of his robe.
“Just as before, it’s ultimately your choice,” the boy said. “You’ve done me more than enough favors, so if you don’t want to be involved, I won’t force you. Of course, you won’t be able to count on my support, either.” A smile returned to his face. “But you already knew that.”
Dallion did, but he also hadn’t expected such a turn of events. There was no telling how old the archbishop was, but his plans spanned throughout centuries. In many ways, the closest thing he could compare him to was the general… No, a weird mix between the emperor and the general, making him far more dangerous than either. If it came to an open battle, Dallion had a large chance of losing.
“Tell you what. How about you take a while to think it over?” The archbishop put his glasses back on and started walking towards a nearby palm tree. As he did, the plants cautiously approached back again, like puppies after being threatened with punishment. “Explore the island, check out the citadel, seek out any information you wish. A day or two isn’t significant in the grand scheme of things. If after that you still want to part ways, I’ll send you back to Alliance.”
“What about the nymphs?” Dallion voiced his other concern. “Once you’ve dealt with the emperor, who’s going to stop them?”
“We are, of course. With a new emperor, that will make the new balance of power three against one. Tiallia could be a bit wild, but she’s not suicidal. As long as the status quo is maintained, I’m willing to accept a cold war lasting a few centuries. By then, I’ll have come up with an adequate solution.”
It remained a wonder that the boy had as much empathy as he had. If Dallion hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he’d guess he was talking to a mage. The cold-heartedness, even if it were for the good of the world, was outright terrifying. Maybe that was the reason he had isolated himself from everyone. With other people around, he would feel the consequences of his actions. Without them, he could spend all his time in his “ivory tower” viewing people as pieces on a chessboard.
Harp, when you made a deal with the Order, what was the price? He asked within his realm.
I don’t know, the nymph replied. Tiallia never told me any details. She was convinced that she had made the right choice.
So were all the world conquerors, and look what happened to them.
Hesitating a minute more, Dallion finally took a step towards the citadel.
“Just one thing,” the archbishop suddenly said. “You offered something when you demanded to see me. It’s only right that you don’t go back on your word.”
A promise? The brief conversation had made Dallion completely forget about the dragon heart.
Casting a quick spell, he summoned the Moonstone out of his realm. Divine light radiated from it, attracting all plants towards it, like an empathy magnet. An atmosphere of bliss and serenity emerged, only to fade away once Dallion broke the heart in two.
“One Moonstone piece,” he said, leaving the larger half on the front step of the grand citadel. “The rest is for me.”