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The three canine hybrids had shed their mismatched and messy armor, now dressed in robes that were only slightly better than rough burlap sacks. They had simple ropes tied around their waists, and each robe had a slit in the back to showcase their tucked tails. Their ears were pinned back, and they crouched as if trying to appear small and feeble.
Councilman Procul made every effort to come between them and my disbelieving gaze, holding up his hands as if to shield them from my anticipated fury. “I can't understand why anyone would attack these innocent creatures of the Wastelands without reason,” Procul declared. “But what's even more unfathomable is that their attacker would also try to portray themselves as a holy symbol of justice.”
I took a deep breath and started to set my shoulders for a righteous retort, but Relias’s warning glare deflated me. “Let him finish with his lies before you say anything,” he relayed mentally. “I want to know what this is all about.”
I was eventually grateful that he couldn't hear the disdainful and vulgar response I had crafted.
Councilman Procul folded his arms into their opposite’s sleeve. “The three freelancers behind me pick up odd jobs in the Wastelands to support themselves, guiding hybrids from settlement to settlement. Helping transport goods. But a few months ago, fearing something suspicious between labors, they approached those two women—”
The tallest one, the ringleader I had personally walloped, whispered hesitantly into Councilman Procul’s ear. He listened for a moment, then nodded before he was finished, waving him off rather flippantly.
“…Who were garbed in black masks and hooded cloaks and were being accompanied by an ox, and of all things, a tiger!” Procul continued.
Tetora, who had been blatantly ignoring the crowd’s continuous stream of disapproving glances, bristled up like a porcupine at their accusatory murmuring. Aleph put a consoling hand on his shoulder, but his eyes were as hard as agates.
“Fearing something suspicious… just by mere association?” Relias inquired. “Is it a crime to be accompanying a tiger? Let alone Grandmaster Tetora?”
“Even the Wastelands knows of the Tiger Clan’s treachery, Relias!” Pravum reprimanded loudly before Procul could answer. “They are as one with the demons now, inciting violence and rebellion in the name of General Ragnerus! Once his army is ready, they will all march on Ecclesia, bringing their evil into our last bastion! And by the way, he is Grandmaster no more! His vile sister now bears that accursed moniker after calling all her tiger minions to join her.”
Taika? She’s the one who incited the tigers to join General Ragnerus? Is she running around with those two annoying yet also somehow powerful demon recruiters?
And why was he so free to state the General’s name?
“Are you saying the Order of the White will fail to stop General Ragnerus in Porta?” Relias asked quietly. “How little faith you have in our brothers…”
Relias just did it, too! What’s this all about?
Councilman Pravum pulled out a gavel from behind the podium and slammed it several times. “You are out of order, Relias!” Pravum then turned. “Councilman Procul, please continue with your—I mean, their…”
“Testimony,” Relias finished with a confident nod, invoking yet another wave of hostility from His Excellency.
“I said OUT OF ORDER!” Pravum shrieked, his face red as flecks of spittle flew from his lips.
Nora and I exchanged a long, suspicious glance. I saw her mouth the words ‘demonic animus’ before raising her eyebrows to form it as a question. Even though I took a good, hard look at Pravum, I really couldn’t sense anything influencing him in such a way as to account for his clearly overly emotional response. I shrugged a little to her, guessing that sometimes, you can hate someone passionately without being under the influence of an existential evil.
I mean, I was feeling that way at the moment about three little liars hiding behind the big one.
Councilman Procul, clearly stunned by his colleague’s vehemence, took a few moments to gather his wits. “Lobo, Marrok, and Valko… concerned for what they thought were fellow hybrids, approached the imposter and unfettered dark mage unknowingly, only to receive a brutal beating from those two that bereaved them of health, employment, and almost their very lives!”
Where’s the part about them propositioning us and then threatening to kill us if we didn’t comply?!
I was always told not to gamble because I have no poker face. Well, my body isn’t very good at hiding my emotions either. Despite my admittedly paltry efforts to prevent it at this point, my gold aura flared up again, this time tinged with a spikey red overlay. It rippled up and out, pulsing perfectly with my racing heart. Several people had already seen it before I noticed, pointing and whispering loudly as they began to back away. Quite flustered, I tried to control it with distracting thoughts, imagining myself in Nora’s room, playing with her perfectly painted miniatures.
The one that looks like Chester but with wings! And that cute cube of jelly that you can see through…
“And which one of those two was the mastermind?” Pravum asked, seemingly oblivious to my glowing irritation. “Which one ordered the attack?”
I straightened up to glare full force at Procul, waiting for his accusation.
That's right, point me out. I’ll show you what—
“The unfettered dark mage,” Procul said, pointing at Nora. “The one who mocks us even now by casting an illusion of an aura on her clumsy companion!”
Wut?
Do I have resting idiot-face, or something?
What part of me looks clumsy?!
Nora immediately threw down her staff and held her hands up high. “Hold up! I’m not casting anything!”
“Ah, I understand now…” Relias said cryptically by way of a mental sending.“Captain, let your light so shine before all, for your blazing aura speaks more eloquently than any words shared.”
There was no way I could do anything but at that point. Focusing on what I could only call righteous indignation for blaming Nora, of all people, for their well-deserved punishment, I flexed my arms as if breaking out of handcuffs. I’ll admit, it was a bit empowering to watch their faces melt into doubt and dismay, even as my aura intensified.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Just wait until they cross-examine me!
Lobo, Marrok, and Valko shivered in fear as Nora, her hands still held high, quickly and haphazardly began to explain the situation in a forceful, rushed voice. “Look here, imbeciles! I’m not using any cheap magic tricks to create the Chosen One's aura of amity! Don't even dare accuse me of such underhanded tactics! Can you not see my mouth moving and my hands in plain sight? I am certainly not capable of maintaining a spell while performing these actions! Perhaps if you used your eyes and connected them to your brains, you would have already realized the obvious truth...”
Tact was certainly optional at this point.
Relias nodded a few times as Nora babbled incessantly as if he were prompting her to continue. She kept going, gulping air quickly when she became breathless between insulting sentences. The General Assembly, though doubtful now, did not seem to be fans of the derogatory remarks peppered into her speech. Eventually, Relias raised his hand, and Nora immediately fell silent, not bothering to finish her last sentence, which managed to question both their intelligence and lineage.
“I believe she has demonstrated beyond any shadow of a doubt that she is not responsible for the Chosen One’s aura.” Relias folded his arms. “Councilman Pravum, Councilman Procul, will you still persist in your accusation that this woman, right here, is not Captain Lightbringer but an imposter?”
“She… she may not be the only wild dark mage here!” Procul argued. “For all we know, you could have half a dozen members of the Black Order hidden throughout the area, casting powerful illusions and manipulations!”
“I also disbelieve,” Procul added. “No true hero would hide their appearance and attack the innocent.”
Relias smiled slowly as he turned aside, a bright glint in his eye. “Father Thomas,” he called softly. “I hereby invoke Crisis of Faith.”
The judicial vicar shot up from his seat as if it had been set ablaze. “Crisis of Faith…!”
Those three enigmatic words rippled back and forth through the crowd, and several called their servants to bring them manuscripts for reference.
“Had this been solely about me,” Relias explained, still using a relatively quiet voice. “I would have been willing to bear the brunt of punishment from my brothers. Truly, the world has sorely suffered since the loss of our hero, and it was I who had been unable to prevent it. But it is apparent that the Church has lost its way during my penitence.”
“Sage Relias,” Father Thomas called ominously. “To invoke a Crisis of Faith, you must cite specific evidence that suggests the Church can no longer operate under the auspices of the Council nor the General Assembly.”
Relias held up one finger. “First point. At least two-thirds of the Council has lost its Faith, denying that the Chosen One stands before us.” A second finger shot up. “Point two. The General Assembly has been denied critical information by the Council, which, in turn, has led to them questioning their own Faith.”
“Specify the critical information, Sage Relias,” Father Thomas added in a much more respectful tone.
“The Turri Accords, signed by Captain Raelynn Lightbringer and myself,” Relias replied, unruffled.
“She’s an imposter!” Pravum shouted. “Her signature isn’t evidence of her identity! I was trying to prevent another riot!”
Relias’s gaze lingered on him briefly before he shook his head sadly. “I do believe you think you are right, my brother. Had you simply been lying or trying to manipulate the Church, I would have understood it as a natural response to our imperfect human condition. But to lose your Faith in the Chosen One! In good conscience, I cannot allow you to continue your Purpose, for such a crippling condition is contagious and would spread amongst the faithful like a plague. This loss of Faith would, in turn, endanger all Orders, who we need now more than ever to protect us from the advance of the Demon King.”
Relias paused, and Pravum spent a few moments spluttering incoherently before His Holiness once again continued, “We must treat your illness of the Spirit as soon as possible so that you may join us again in joyful celebration and service of the promise Euphridia has bestowed upon us.” He turned his solemn gaze to Procul, his eyes hardening even more. “You have also wandered far from our flock, Procul. Indeed, I believe your loss has also caused you to journey quite low, seeking to weaponize marginalized populations against each other to eradicate them instead of showing them mercy, as is our sacred calling.”
Weaponizing marginalized populations and turning them against each other is straight out of a political playbook, for sure. Does Relias believe Procul is the one behind Pravum in all this?
“Father Thomas,” Procul called, completely sidestepping Relias’s accusations. “Sage Relias is currently on trial for several transgressions. He is not authorized to call for any invocation of emergency measures.”
Father Thomas, however, ignored Procul’s declaration, calling for more manuscripts. “Sage Relias, you also need approval from the King of Ecclesia—”
Relias shook his head. “Father Thomas. Please refer to Footnote 17-6. ‘Those authorized to make decisions under the King’s authority satisfy the requirement.’ I believe it is on page 357.”
Prince Mito added, “I also call for the Church to enter a Crisis of Faith,” in case anyone was in doubt about his loyalties.
Pravum gripped the podium tightly as he cast his wild-eyed gaze across the Forums. “You also need a member of the General Assembly to agree with you, and I wouldn’t believe for a moment that any here would cede their own authority to you after your extreme incompetence has—”
“I would speak.” Father Irijah, who had been sandwiched into the bulk of our royal soldiers, stepped out from obscurity to face his former friend. “Councilman Pravum. I have borne witness to the Chosen One’s deeds at Amantia Castle. I watched her take on and banish a high-level demon. I do not believe she would ever strike another without provocation, and even then, the situation would have had to have been dire.” He gestured to the three dog hybrids. “The mere fact that they yet live to speak ill—pardon, have others speak ill of her suggests that she even took pity on them.” He straightened considerably. “Pravum, my brother, continuing to blame others who are trying to help and denying our responsibilities to humanity is not Our Way. We must change!”
Pravum, wearing a look of true betrayal, seethed with literal, unspeakable anger. He opened his mouth as if to shout, but no words came. Once he realized that he had even lost his scribe, who was retreating hastily towards the back of the forums, he howled with fury. “You will stay here with me until the very end!” He grabbed the young man, dragging him back to the tripod by the arm. “Keep writing! I want these words recorded so once logic returns to us in the future, these damning words will be evidence to hold the guilty truly accountable!” He then glared at Father Irijah. “Relias has shown nothing but negligent incompetence for millennia, yet we should suddenly just roll on our backs and—”
A glint from above caught my eye from the High Temple, and it took a few moments for my brain to register what I was looking at.
A heavy crossbow, cocked, loaded, and mounted to an open window sill, was being manipulated by a faceless figure wearing a hooded black cloak.
Its aim landed straight at him.
“Father Thomas,” Irijah addressed him directly, oblivious to the danger he was in. “I must agree with Sage Relias. The Church is facing a Crisis of—”
“Watch out!” Having my aura already active was the miracle that allowed me to surge forward and jump protectively in front before it fatally struck him. I stretched out my right hand in a high block, and the careening bolt burst into golden flames upon contact with the aura emanating from my fingertips. With its momentum dispersed, the bolt dropped to the ground with a slight metallic ting, where, amazingly, it continued to burn.
We might need it as evidence!
I quickly snuffed it out with a few taps of my boot.
Slowly, realization dawned upon the General Assembly, and every priest’s eyes turned to and against Councilman Pravum, who had frozen in shock. Eventually, he found his voice, stammering. “S-surely, you don’t think I had anything to do with what just happened! Councilman Procul! Confess your sins right now!”
“It must have been him,” Procul cried in denial. “I would not do something so underhanded!”
For free, anyway…
No one bothered to answer either councilman as the General Assembly's gaze drifted to Father Thomas for further direction. He gestured to the crimson corporal, and after the briefest of nods, a few of Pravum's ex-soldiers headed straight for the entrance to the High temple, their weapons drawn as they headed to search for the assassin who had since disappeared from view.
“Scribe,” the judicial vicar called casually to Pravum’s unwilling companion. “Note that on this day, in the 17th hour, 35th minute, the Church has declared its third Crisis of Faith.”
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