On emanations – Excerpts from Wielding their last gift
...emanations are the signs of an elite channeler who can channel multiples Gods simultaneously, to have one is to be a most respectable member of the clergy or an incredible fighter, capable of fighting alone a dozen common men...
...Inquisitors are the chosen ones whose faith has allowed them to engrave an emanation of each season, bearing splotches of all four colors in their eyes. Some are said to have up to eight emanations, having completely covered their eyes with the holy colors...
Early spring / Mercy 782 ADM – Eternal Empire – Modona’s upper district – Merentah mansion
When Ulysse hand gotten back home yesterday he hadn’t granted a single glance at his grandparents, right now he would sooner join the Order than talk to them. They didn’t deserve it. Somehow no one at home had seemed to take him seriously, thinking he must be having a small rebellious phase. If only they knew, he thought, of the betrayal that he felt.
This was not something he would, nor could reveal, he couldn’t prove them his grudges laid root in something concrete. After all the grown-ups talked about family secrets and important matters all the time inside the mansion, but not once had they even made an allusion to this other tongue. Proving it was a matter he really had no business sharing, not even to prove a point.
After a silent breakfast he found out that today’s schedule had been left quite light, to not say empty, there was no use going to the library even though he usually spent his days there since the Librarian would not meet him and neither did he want to see the man. He could try to go and play with the Olian kids but knew they'd find some excuse to desist, as for his sister she was very busy during the day, being trained as a socialite by their dad.
Feeling a good bit lonelier than he usually did, Ulysse went to the living room's couch to read, he picked Private promenades of Sophian make, the other book he’d been gifted along with that accursed tome.
It was still early in the morning, he was avidly reading the book, adoring its tales of the ancient regnant empress and the secret passages she had built everywhere in old imperial cities when a dashing figure entered the living room, at a glance you could tell she did not belong here, not by her look of blazing red hair and thin green eyes speckled by red splotches, theses were typical on grandmother’s side, well except for the red splotches, these were the signs of an emanation. What truly made her stand out was an heavy armor of polished steel, a mix of plate and lamellar allowing for a greater range of movement covered her from neck to toes. A helm adorned with the Olian blazon was held beneath her arm.
Ulysse recognized her, instantly forgetting his worries and dropping his book in a crease of the couch.
“Cousin Grace!”
He leapt at the older woman in an uncomfortable armor hug, making her loudly bark a laugh.
“That’s me alright, I was told I'd find my favorite little cousin here, have you been faring well lordling Ulysse.”
“It's been a weird few days to be honest.”
“There is something that might cheer you up then; Your gifts are ready and I shall escort you to their retrieval so that you may complain all you want on the road.”
“Ho! The... is ready.” He cut himself of before sending a look full of meaning at Grace's sword, it was meant to be a secret after all, no one knew who could be listening.
She nodded solemnly.
“Indeed lordling, they are all finished as of today. Would you be apt to retrieve them at this time or would it please you to do so at another time. You seem tired and may want to take a nap before we go.”
“It's okay. My eyes just look tired but I'm not! Lets go.”
“Your wish is my command.”
The knightly woman snaped a salute in jest, same as the Lordling title she gave him Grace didn’t have to pay him respects. As an important member of the Olian branch, she was of the same, if not higher rank than him, an unimportant child to the Merentahs, technically they weren't even nobles, just acting like them.
“Wait for me at the door, I'll run real quick to get the coins.”
Soon enough, the two of them meet at the mansion’s door, Ulysse was now wearing a black woolen coat of fine make on his shoulders and a weighty leather purse underneath it. That earned him a look of approval, the upper districts might be safe but it was still better not to tempt the devil. Still, he knew there was a reason he had to be escorted outside. His purse was far from the most valuable thing to nap if he was found alone.
The knight and her charge made their way through the domain, on their way they could see a couple of servants setting up the stage for tomorrow's party, like they did every month.
Ulysse had never been one to go out much, having left the domain maybe twenty times in his life, which felt like a lot to him, the mansion’s surroundings were already large enough that he didn’t need to go gallivanting in the city, especially since he always had to be escorted, maybe he could go explore it alone someday, that would be fun.
Stopping by the stables they asked for two horses to be tacked up, cousin Grace had a massive grey war-horse that likely put some bulls to shame with its musculature. He was given a much tamer brown mare. The knight lifted him off the ground and into his stirrups, he had learned how to ride horses years ago but was never quite comfortable that high up the ground.
Grace took the lead and his horse followed by itself. They reached and passed the wrought iron gates, he idly wondered if the war-horse could ram through them. Two guards were stationed at the exit, wielding halberds and dressed armor with purple accented green livery, they saluted them and Ulysse returned a wave making one of them smile. Grace glared a bit at said guard. A Patrician guard was supposed to remain stoic, not that she cared much for this particular rule, only for procedure.
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They now stood in the upper districts of Modona, which were likely among the larger and wealthiest ones to be found inside the empire.
The upper city hand been built over a plateau overlooking the great lake of Modon and the lower city and its many docks spread along the lake’s coast for several kilometers before its expansion was cut short by grassy, snow tipped mountains surrounding the city. The lake of Modom was connected by waterways to much of the empire and the seas beyond it, making the city a flourishing commercial hub, owned and ruled by the rich. Not the nobles.
The Merentah which weren't nobles had now been considered part of the patricians, the city’s elite rulers, for over twenty years after having bought several seats at the council.
The two of them kept on riding as Ulysse inspected the neighboring mansions, few were as impressive as their domain yet among them some far eclipsed his own, as impressive as their rise was, the Merentahs had only been in Modona for less than fifty years.
A few minutes of trot saw them out of the Patrician’s residential district and into tamer ones of more reasonable housing, the streets were full of passersby going about their business as children played on the side of the road and criers were telling to all of the latest news or of whichever merchant paid them for advertisement.
Today said news were mostly about the end of early spring, that was tomorrow, and the many celebrations and processions that would be held.
Ulysse was quite thankful to be on horseback as their mounts parted the throng of passersby, they were understandably unwilling to be trampled by the knight’s war-horse, the same way he would be in such a crowd.
Until they didn’t anymore, the two riders were trying to cross one of the main streets when they came across a wall of citizen tightly packed on the street’s edge. Closing in they could now hear a choral of sacred chants echoing through the street. Though not particularly religious both of them did the cross sign, their hands passing through the 8 positions. Being seen not doing it could very well start a riot among the zealots.
The horses gave them enough of an height advantage to look at the cortege, slowly descending the street was a ostentatiously dressed decrepit old man, he sat on a palanquin carried by four stout priests, it was the city’s archbishop. The man had reached the venerable age of 127 earlier this year thanks to his faith in the Eternals, it was well known he had been asking Death for a miracle each and every year since a very long time.
Following the archbishop with the help of four horses and a dozens of inquisitors was an enormous chariot of brass, proudly displaying religious iconography together with the city crest. Closing the march was a cortege of several hundreds of believers sprinkled with acolytes and priests bearing holy reliquaries. Tomorrow’s procession would be even bigger.
There went his hopes of quickly retrieving his gifts, these dead gods really had a knack at worsening his every day.
***
One hour later – Modona’s upper district – Maker's avenue
Ulysse’s disappointment at needing to wait for the procession for almost 20 minutes had quickly been forgotten when they actually got to retrieving his orders, there had been four stops on his list but it got bumped to five when he talked to Grace about feeling betrayed by his family and she cheered him up with street food, some sort of sweet dough ball fried in oil and sprinkled with dried fruits.
About said family matters, he tried asking some leading questions and was now certain Grace was outside the loop.
Overall he felt pretty good now, it had given him some time to think away from family and before leaving the third shop, a jewelry, its owner, a sweet old man that reminded him of grandpa had complimented him on his manners and the attention he put into his gifts at such a young age. That made him resolve to talk to grandpa about the secrets he had kept, but after tomorrow. He didn’t need yet another revelation to further ruin his upcoming birthmonth.
Distracting him from his thoughts the fourth – fifth if street food counted – shop came into view, it was a two story building with a broad façade of stone, it was strangely silent. A sign read;
Lennard’s forge of Fire
Anointed smith
This Lennard if his reputation held true was one of the best smiths in Modona, one he had sent a letter to a week ago, and who was among the few in town allowed to work with Eternium, as his anointment indicated.
After tying up his horse's reins Ulysse set foot in the smithy, soon followed by his escort. The door opened with the chime of a bell. The store was in a state of disarray, much of the display boxes were filled only with air. Of the dozen displayed weapons while they appeared master crafted to his novice eye and made of rare metal, that hadn’t stopped dust from gathering on them. He bent down, picking up a blueish spear so light it must have been orichalcum. It had fallen from the wall hanger and he intended to put it back in place.
“Hands off, put that down where you found it.”
A door behind the counter had barely opened that a tall stocky man, supposedly this Lennard growled at the young man in a completly slurred voice.
Ulysse dropped the weapon that clattered to ground, complying to the letter, as he was made equally angry and disappointed by the smith.
“Listen here you little shit, you hang it back up or I’ll han…”
“CITIZEN, be careful of your words for you are threatening a patrician. This is your warning, fail to heed it and I will act.”
At the knight’s explosive reaction the smith quieted down, his mouth hanging open and letting free the rank smell of alcohol. Ulysse lifted a hand to Grace in a placating gesture before stepping forwards, he would rather spend as little time as possible with that man.
“I am Ulysse Merentah and have made a request for a sword a week back, I would have it now.”
“And do you have proof of that ‘patrician’, It was paid for in half I can’t sell it to anybody.”
Grace took initiative, hinting at the blazon engraved to her helm, the smith barely looked at it.
“That should suffice.”
“Sure, whatever. I'll be back with it.”
This Lennard left by where he had come from, over the course of a minute the sound of moving crates and clinking bottles could and both Ulysse and Grace shared a wary look. Then the man came back with a fine rectangular box of wood in his hands. He dropped it on the counter.
“There, see for yourself, box, scabbard, exact bloody dimensions and guard shape.”
Ulysse opened the box, expecting the worse, yet he was pleasantly surprised. Lennard hadn’t lied, the sword was fitted in an elegant white scabbard, drawing the sword its gold tinted eternium blade caught the light beautifully, he could make out the delicate engraving of eight interlinked rings, symbol of the Merentah along its fuller while it weight and feel were familiar, the same as their training swords. This one however, was made to kill.
“It’s a good sword, it will serve her well.”
Ulysse would trust his knight on that, she was the blade expert.
“Now about the price, that blade was a damn piece of work, It’s worth more than originally stated, 12 grands.”
The price had been stated at 8 grand silver coins, an ambitious price, a basic steel sword could be bought for one grand, and raw Eternium was about four times the price of steel, considering the blade was of very high quality 8 grands had been an honest price. It would have taken a common citizen almost two years to save that kind of money.
“I hope you have a good reason for that raise or the Merentahs will drag your name in the mud.”
“Ha! Mud might just clean it off of whatever’s staining it.”
The smith put on a more serious face, tapping his finger on the engravings.
“When you channel, eternium is like an extension of your arm. See theses engravings? They are like wounds in the flesh, want to try channeling with a messed-up arm? No you don't. I had to work my ass of to make them blend with the blade's flow of faith took me a few nights I’d like being paid for."
Ulysse felt like it was a pretty strong argument, plus the man looked like he needed the money.
“Ok, you’re lucky it’s a good blade, I can do 10 coins, but no more.”
“Deal.”