The High Chamber had their discussion of the day without major incidents, as it was customary and had been for the last years. The Wise Great Bishop sat calm and proud in his own position, high above every other chair in the chamber, as he watched people abandon the room and return to their own cushy positions in their respective sections of the True Church. All except for one…
Giovanni, the High Priest of the Genesis Chamber, once again seemed troubled by the decisions taken by consensus. Sitting by himself while waiting for the other members of his chamber to return to work, the old man was trying hard not to look concerned. The Wise Great Bishop frowned slightly, caressing the braids of his beard as he thought for a second. How to appease this rambunctious child now?
Once the High Chamber had been vacated of all others, Giovanni took a deep breath and slowly began to climb the stairs towards the Main Throne. It was quite the way up, purposely built so private conversation with the current Wise Great Bishop was as inconvenient and exhausting as possible.
Giovanni knew that well, but he was determined to resist that fact to have an actual conversation with the old man.
“Ah, Giovanni, my favorite child. I see that you are restless once again.” The ancient priest shook his head slowly. “What is that worries you today?”
“I am sorry if my concerns have grown exhausting, Wise Great One. But this last decision to storm Caen…” Once he was standing besides the Bishop, Giovanni let out a tired sigh. “Don’t you think it is a little rushed?”
“Rushed, my child? Didn’t you agree to it when we recounted the votes today?”
While technically true, both priests knew this was only because of the inner pressure of the Genesis Chamber, always eager to rush and push into new hunts. Being their leader, opposing the opinion of the chamber at large would certainly endanger his position and throw away what little caution Giovanni was able to instill in them.
The Chamber Priest’s hands were tied.
“I have been meditating on it.” Giovanni decided to ignore the Bishop’s goading. “The moving of our troops could leave other sectors of our territory open for the influence of the Church of the Star.”
“Do not refer to that bunch of heretics as a Church, my child. Never forget that we are the one and only Church in Jericho.”
“Yes, Bishop. I apologize.” Giovanni had to bite his lower lip to not call his superior on such demagogy. “But what I say remains, are you sure this is the right moment…?”
“My child, I know that you are afraid of the consequences of our actions, and that your intentions have always been pure and kind… but our decision has been taken already, and there is no pulling it back.” The Great Wise Bishop took a deep breath as he got up from his throne. “Esperanza will visit Caen. She will see that the heretical forces swirling and gathering in that city are brought to justice. You will understand with time, my child, that this is the right move.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
As the Great Leader simply walked away through his private exit of the chamber, Giovanni stood in the room for a few more moments, simply staring at his hands. He had promised to keep the CHurch in the path of virtue when he joined, and for the last sixty years he had been fighting against all odds to avoid unnecessary bloodshed to tarnish their history.
But even he could see the signs in the skies, and hear the whispers in the wind. Destiny itself had its eyes on Caen, something huge was about to happen and the Church couldn’t simply look away and pretend it didn’t know. The interrogation of captured Demiurges in the last six years pointed at it, the disaster in Gwynedd had been a sign of ill winds coming their way too.
He was simply incapable of stopping the wheel of fate itself, and could only pray. Pray for the incoming disaster to be fast and forgiving to them all.
Pray for Esperanza and her judgement to be as lenient as possible.
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It had took an entire day and a half, after extinguishing an entire town and tending to the wounded, the Dame and her squadron had returned to their long journey towards Caen. Six riders threaded the paths of Normadia, five soldiers of the Genesis Chamber and the Holy Dame, lady Esperanza de Argon… but no matter how much progress they made towards their destination, trouble always seemed to find a way to stop them right on their tracks.
That Demiurge had been the last of a long line of inconveniences and accidents that the squadron had to solve by the Dame’s insistence: there was always a caravan that needed aid, a city under attack or a young child who wished to ride on their horses… and for sure, the soldiers could forgive some of those incidents as eccentric orders from a young leader, but—
“My lady, you have to admit that some of these requests of yours are not precisely vital.” Ignatius, the squadron’s second in command, spoke in a soft yet determined tone as he rode his horse closer to the dame. “I mean, it is adorable to incense the dreams and illusions of a young child but—”
“Tell me, Ignatius, wouldn’t you had wished to receive divine inspiration directly when you were younger?” Esperanza smiled.
“Yes, but—”
“Think of it very simply, Ignatius. If we inspire the masses, they will be much more sympathetic to our cause! It’s very logical.”
“Y-Yes, it is my Lady! But we simply do not have the time to deal with these many peasants begging for help!”
Of course, Esperanza had this very clear in her mind. Their time was precious and their mission more important than anything else, but as a girl of humble origins, she also knew what it was like to beg to the skies for help that never arrived.
“If we have the capability of aiding someone, then we must. It is our duty, and I will not be hearing anything against it.”
Ignatius let out a deep sigh, slowly shaking his head. Esperanza was still young after all, her heart pure and noble, not yet tarnished by the cruel reality of life and reality. Had he been a crueler man, he would have certainly demanded the girl to focus on their mission and nothing else, but as the girl’s caretaker and second in command, he simply couldn’t bear the idea of opposing her like that.
He knew, deep down, that he was just stalling until life itself taught the girl the importance of a hint of cruelty in one’s character, but he couldn’t do it himself. He could just pray for life’s eventual lesson to be as forgiving as he was.
“But look, I understand your urgency and I do not want you to feel like I do not hear you, Ignatius.” The black haired girl looked at him with legitimate concern. “I will do my best to keep our hasty step this time. I promise, no more detours unless it is completely necessary.”
The old man sighed, nodding slowly. He knew these kinds of promises were flimsy at best, but it was the thought that mattered in the end.
Besides, maybe this was all just an exaggeration from the High Chamber’s part! Whatever could be happening in Caen that needed such urgent movement from troops all around Jericho?