Gingerly, the palace physician prodded the tender flesh of Nathania Obelisk’s burned hand, provoking an irritated hiss from his patient. Resisting the urge to withdraw her hand from his grasp she clenched her jaw to suppress the pain.
“Mild burns at most, little risk of infection.” Ketamir Laurent’s eyes traveled down the length of her torso, eying the burn scars hidden beneath her suit. “You’ve certainly survived worse.”
Perhaps there was a shred of truth to the insinuation made by the former Prophet. More than anything, Nathania wished her patron deity, Valen, the Paragon of Order, would quit his twenty-five year silence and help her to understand what she was meant to do. But, in the course of those twenty-five years, all of her prayers had gone unanswered. If the Graced Valen hadn’t come to the aid of his own Prophet when heretics had razed the Temple of Infinite Wonder to the ground, he certainly wouldn’t show up for her now. Like every obstacle she’d faced since that tragic day, she was alone. Just another test in an endless pursuit to prove she was still worthy of his grace. As always, she would strive to honor him, act on his behalf even without his guidance. Catching the knowing look from her oldest friend, she rolled her eyes as he began to bandage the burns.
“Don’t look at me like that, Ketamir.”
“Like what?” He paused halfway through winding the linen around her hand, exasperation turning his tone cold. “Like the only mortal alive who can empathize with your loss?” He returned to his task, finishing the wrap by tucking the loose end under a strip of already bound fabric. “You do not have a monopoly on grief over losing your patron, Nathania. I may not wallow in my sorrow, but that doesn’t mean I do not feel the absence of Enid’s grace.”
“Despite holding the highest elected office in the realms, I have been dressed down twice today.” Straightening her posture, Nathania took a deep breath. “If that’s your intention, allow me to leave and spare you the lecture.”
Ketamir’s hand caught her wrist as she rose to leave. “You’re absolutely right, Nat. You do hold the highest office in Evren. You work to ensure order in the realms, just as I seek to preserve life. We continue to serve as we can. There is no shame in that.” Guiding her back to sit with him again, he continued. “Even as a child, your devotion was voracious— a hunger that could never be sated. Even as a sentinel ten years older, I was humbled by that. You were called into Valen’s service at nine years old —”
“The youngest Sentinel to ever be called in the history of Evren,” she finished in an exasperated tone.
“Yes, and because of that, service is all you’ve ever known.” There was pity in his expression, and Nathania hated it. “I was almost twenty when Enid chose me as her last Sentinel.” Nathania looked away, knowing full well where this lecture was going. “I’ve known there was a life to be had beyond divine service. Can you honestly say that your ambition to save Evren ever stemmed from a personal desire to change it for the better, or has it only ever been to prove to your Patron that you were still worthy of his grace?”
It wasn’t even midday, and so far, all this day had only served to dredge up feelings Nathania had spent the majority of her life trying to repress. She understood what Ketamir was trying to do. He had been looking out for her since she was that precocious nine-year-old who had arrived at the temple. As her de facto older brother, this was essentially his most important job. Still, she let her silence be her answer.
“Graced Valen could not have chosen a mortal more worthy to serve as his prophet. In his absence, you’ve taken it upon yourself to serve as his Sentinel. Wherever he’s gone, I know that he’s proud of you.”
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“That does not change the fact that he is gone.” She inhaled sharply, a shudder wavering through her. “I will never stop trying to save this world from itself. I do not care what I have to sacrifice to bring them back— to stand beside the Graced Valen as he brings down a hammer down on these false Paragons.”
“When your only weapon is a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail.” Ketamir reached for a newspaper lying on the table before them, handing it over to her. “If you are determined to bring down the Crown Impera, perhaps consider adding another weapon to your arsenal.”
The paper was inverted, folded open to an article on the back of the front page. Skimming it quickly, at first, it looked as if it was just another opinion piece trying to convince her and the Zealot-controlled legislature to remove restrictions placed on the study of Esoterics.
“...the prohibitions Nathania Obelisk and her coalition in the legislature have placed on the funding and research of Esoterics does more harm than good. They have set these restrictions because they believe that our technological progress offends the Paragons. But, impeding the work of Esoterics impedes our ability to comprehend the mechanics of our universe and how those forces may be utilized for collective benefit.”
Dr. Eldritch Travers is a professor of Esoterics at the University of Amaranth, whose field of study focuses on the connection between the etheric and physical planes.
“Many zealots mistakenly believe that those who study Esoterics seek to eliminate the Paragons, to elevate mortals to equality with the divine. But, my interest in Esoterics is much simpler. The Paragons created our world, and I have many questions about that. Not because I wish to build a world without them, but to better understand the one I already find myself in. Esotericists do not seek to understand the bigger questions of the universe because we feel we know better than the Paragons, but because claiming that knowledge of the Infinite brings us closer to them.”
As part of his research, Dr. Travers is interested in the Scions of the Graced Avadiel. He is especially curious about the distinction between them and their mother, namely why the Scions can utilize the full extent of their power in the physical plane while she, a full-blooded paragon, cannot.
“If we better understand the connection between etheric and physical planes, how might we harness what we discover to better improve our lives? Yes, technology is a natural extension of Esoterics, but Nathania Obelisk, and those who align their votes with her, must realize that Esoterics and technology are not the enemies here. They are a bridge that can bring mortals and Paragons back together. If anything, I would think that leader Obelisk would be in favor of anything that can reunite the world with our lost Paragons...”
Snapping the newspaper down in a huff, Nathania glared at Ketamir. “Are you suggesting I give in to their demands, Ketamir?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ketamir sighed. “No, you should help them because your goals align.” Pointing to the middle of the article, he added, “This professor is studying how their power works when by nature it shouldn’t. The divine was never meant to exist in this plane, and Avadiel has paid for crossing over with the loss of her divinity. Aren’t you curious as to why her Scions haven’t?”
Folding the newspaper again and tucking it under her arm, she stood to leave.
“I’ll raise the idea to the coalition.” She said with an air of finality. “I have kept you far too long from your duties, so I will be on my way. I will keep your advice in mind. Thank you again, Ketamir.”
Her lifelong friend nodded silently, squeezing her hand as she passed by him on her way to the door. She would be remiss if she didn’t admit that he had made a good point. If this professor was interested in studying the Scions, what harm could there be encouraging it? Perhaps the best way to expose the threat posed by fallen Paragon and her Scions was to do it in a language their followers understood. Out of her mouth, Nathania’s claims fell on deaf ears. But, if Esoterics confirmed what she knew to be fact, not even the royal family could contest that.