Chapter 30: The Church of Light

“The Church of Light, sometimes referred to as the Church due to its size, is perhaps the most prevalent religion on the continent. During the formation of the sentient races, the world was filled with monsters. They lurked, hunting in the darkness. The first priest of Light is said to be a human, who prayed for something to protect their race, at least for a time, from the creatures which skulk in shadow. This account may be false as it is perpetuated by the more zenophobic aspects of the church and is disputed by other religions, namely the Church of Mana which believes that all gods are subservient to the innate will of magic.” – Account from a thesis on The Efficacy of Religion in a Modern Society by Minalan Mancour.

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“Wait, don't hurt me,” the woman wailed at the sight of the weapon. Alma tried to use Blood Puppet again but it was blocked by a shimmering, translucent golden shield. The candescents illuminated the woman's long golden hair. She covered her short body with her arms, clearly not summoning the shield on purpose.

“Wait,” Dante said, halting Alma as she prepared to attack. “I’m sure this young acolyte will not stop us, if she hears why we have come.” Dante winked, out of the women's line of sight. Seeing that she wasn’t currently being assaulted, the stranger lowered her arms and looked between the pair warily.

“What possible reason could you give that would excuse this! Breaking into the church ground is one thing but attacking a holy guard, unprovoked, is sacrilege,” she began, amping up for a poorly practised lecture. She stumbled on her words, belying her inexperience.

“Miss, I’m sure you’ll understand once you hear the truth,” Dante began, approaching slowly. “In fact I know you will, on my word as a friend of the Paladin, Orlando Roncevaux and my name, Dante Ghibellines.” He finished with a flourishing bow. This proclamation received a wide range of reactions. The newcomer was at first confused, yet relaxed at the mention of Orlando.

Dante couldn’t see Alma tense up at the mention of the Paladin and prepare to strike him with her whip. Fortunately, he wasn’t taken unawares as the second revelation caused both women to cry out in surprise. Unfortunately, the commotion had caused another young acolyte to open his bedroom curtains and see the affair. Being on the ground floor, the tall dark-skinned elf jumped forth without hesitation. He ran the hundred yards at a blistering pace chanting a litany as he approached. His hand began to glow, brighter and brighter, with the light of the sun, focused on Dante.

The Bard squealed, imbuing the sound with his Fighting Words Skill in panic. This enraged the teenager and caused his calculated charge to turn into that of a raging bull. Not even the fair haired woman was able to stop him, once she had snapped out of her shock. On the plus side, he had lost all concentration on the holy spell that would no doubt have killed an undead like Dante. Desperate, he looked around for something to hide behind, but Alma had wisely stepped away. So he was left to duck and dive about the woman's golden shield as the elf shouted invectives, his veins bulging and his eyes white. Dante wasn’t able to keep up the act forever however and he was eventually tackled to the ground by the frothing zealot. Dante guarded his head from the oncoming blows but they never landed. Looking up, his attacker was frozen solid, straining to lower his fists. Out of the corner of his eye Dante could make out Alma struggling to hold onto her spell. The Golden haired teen looked between the pair, hestating, clearly not wanting to hurt either. She floundered about for a moment, but at Alma’s goading she finally acted:

“Light, let all life live in luscious leas and lovely lakes. Lay thy livid nature to rest. Calm,” she chanted, placing a glowing hand on each of them. Her blue eyes glowed with a golden light for a second before the divine spell took effect. The elf relaxed, slowly looking around at the situation. Dante was forced to hold back screams as the holy mana coursed through him. To his great relief, Alma took the attention, allowing him to roll face down, and cover his streaming tears.

“There is a priest with white and gold robes that the Paladin has assigned us to look into,” she said, deciding to play into the identity of such an influential figure.

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“What are you on about?” the dark elf ejaculated, trying to work himself up but remaining frustratingly calm. “I see one of our guards knocked out and Delphine has her shield up. You expect me to believe you're on our side,” he ended in a neutral tone.

“James,” Delphine began tentatively, “I think she’s telling the truth.” She then described the few actions that had occurred before his arrival.

“Before we continue, I think we should talk somewhere quieter,” Alma interjected, before James could begin his interrogation.

“Fine,” the elf relented, “We can talk in my dorm room, it’s small but there's only me there.

“I’m not allowed in the boy’s dorms,” Delphine murmured but wasn’t heard. Alma heaved the groaning Dante over her shoulder. When they came to the open window, she tossed him in like a sack of grain. Thump. She looked back at the uncertain woman and gestured with her thumb.

Crowded in a cell, which contained nothing but a tired cot and a trunk full of robes, they attended to their conversation. James shut the curtains behind him and turned to Alma, glancing briefly at the form of Dante - who was cradling his injured nose.

“Now, What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I told you, Orlando said we should investigate a priest here,” Alma lied, not even attempting the Paladin’s last name. He had intended to protest the issue but was stopped by a nod from Delphine. Obviously, she believed the claim.

“Why would he send outsiders to look into what is, evidently, an ecumenical matter,” James insisted.

“Why would he send a member of the clergy to investigate the church?” Alma retorted, sharply. Dante managed to get to his feet, with Delphine’s silent help, as the two argued.

“Fine, say I do believe you, which I do not, name a single member of this chapter that is worthy of investigation,” James persisted, stubbornly - heat slowly returning to his voice and features as the Calm spell began to wane.

“Ahh, I don’t know his name, but he wears bright white robes dripping with gold, ” Dante interrupted, with his nose stuffed by a handkerchief. Both turned withering glares on him. “Err..” he stammered.

“He’s right,” Alma verified, reluctantly.

“I knew it, this is a scam,” James declared, pointing at the pair of them.

“We told you what he wears,” Alma retorted.

“Pff, you described half the church.”

“We also know that he travels the city with two bodyguards,” Alma added. At this James’ face tightened and screwed up. Delphine gave him a knowing look before speaking.

“That can only be Iago,” she said softly.

“No!” James fired back, now back in control of his anger. “It can’t be. He, and he alone, has the bravery to walk the streets at night and guide those who ‘skulk in shadows’.”

“There have been rumours,” Delphine tried, but James would have none of it.

“Impossible, he conducts sermons for the lord and takes his confession. There is a reason he is called Iago the honest,” James reasoned, growing more confident in his position.

“You shall have to join us in serveiling him,” Dante proposed, having gotten carried away in the lie. Alma growled at him and looked ready to start a fight then and there. Dante meant to go to her and calm her but slipped on bedding that had been strewn across the floor; smacking his nose into the Trunk. This seemed to raise Alma’s spirits as she smirked.

“Fine,” she eventually said, turning her growl into a cough. “It might be easier if we had some help from within the church. That way, we won’t have to go round knocking out guardsmen.” James and Delphine took an aside to confer, whilst Alma bent to help Dante back to his feet.

With her lips to his ear she whispered, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you claimed your name to be. We’ll talk about how stupid that was later.” Dante could only sputter out blood in response, which seemed to please the bloodthirsty woman.

“We have agreed, temporarily, to help you,” James announced through gritted teeth. “Until it is discovered that this is all a hoax and you are slandering the good priest’s name - at which time I’ll be happy to hand you to the holy headswoman personally.” He said with a smile, only to receive an elbow from the shorter woman.

“We should wait till the morning. If you need to observe his comings and goings, you’ll have to wait till he’s awake,” she added.

“Better to work by the holy light,” he amended.

“We shall need to see his papers,” Alma said, thinking quickly. “It would be easier to sneak into his rooms at night.”

“I think not,” Delpine said, with a snorting laugh. “I’m sorry but this place is locked up as tight as a drum at night, every corridor is patrolled. They don’t want the rich kids, the third sons or daughters that have been forced into priesthood, to run away.” The declaration earned her a strange look from James. She looked away, realising she may have said too much.

Thinking ahead, James dressed the newcomers in acolyte's robes. His thought proved to be wise as, when the alarm was raised, they were chastised for being in the same room after hours - the girls were sent back to their dorm. Dante was permitted to stay the night in James' room, upon his explanation that he was newly sent and had not yet been assigned a cell. Dante could only hope Alma was permitted the same recourse. Left with no option, Dante had to wait out the night, till the death of daylight.