Walking quietly behind Oplar, I wondered why I’d been underground so much lately.

We were under the Cathedral, and I think we were not just a single floor below… but very likely three or more. It was hard to tell since we’d gone not just down stairs recently but had then climbed back up some only to descend again shortly after. As if going over hills.

Oplar and I had only made a few turns since entering these catacombs beneath the Cathedral, but we’d passed many dozens of other hallways. Some massive, others small enough that my shoulders would have touched both walls if I had entered them. As if they weren't hallways at all.

It was like a maze down here. And something told me it had been made this way on purpose.

“The man you’re about to meet doesn’t like Vim, Renn,” Oplar said as she slowed a little.

“Oh?” I perked up that.

“His name’s Randle. He’s a priest. He… works under the Chronicler, but it seems lately there’s been a rift between them. I don’t know the whole story, since he and I don’t get along well either, but you can basically assume anything said or done to him will be relayed to the Chronicler immediately after. Even with them at ends they’re still conspirators,” Oplar told me.

“Uh… okay…?” I said. Was that a bad thing…? It’s not like I was bothered with such a thing. I had nothing against the Chronicler, or her people. As far as I was aware, at least. Plus what little I knew that could somehow harm Vim was stuff I’d never share with anyone, ever. Like his strange exhaustion, or his monarch friends.

And the other secrets, stuff like Narli the Saint, I’d never share either. I had no right to endanger their lives, and I cherished them far too much to even think about revealing their secrets or location.

Oplar came to a stop, and I did too. I studied the way she tilted her head and scratched at her neck… and I realized she was on edge.

Had something happened…? How? We’d only just got here. This afternoon.

Upon reaching Telmik, Oplar had taken us to the house in the Cathedral. The one Vim and I had stayed at last time we were here. Sillti and Angie were both there right now, likely sleeping. The two had eaten their fill, and then they had both grown sleepy. Hard to blame them since our journey here had been long and hard, especially for them. Between the caravan being attacked and Oplar taking us through dense woods on the way here, they had been pushed to their limits, I think.

Honestly I had planned to join them. I had been about to undress and go take a bath right as Oplar returned to the house, intent to drag me down here.

Oplar turned and sighed at me. “I’ll be honest Renn… I’m worried,” she admitted.

“About what, Oplar? Is everything okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “It is… I think. As you know I don’t get along with the Chronicler and her people. Randle is one of them. But although I don’t get along with them, I can trust them. Or well… at least, I thought I could. I’ve always hated them, but knew when it came to the Society they could be trusted. That they’d never do anything bad concerning the Society and its members. That they’d always have the best in mind for us,” she said.

I slowly nodded as I realized what she was saying. “There’s doubt now. Why?”

“Two reasons. Randle and the Chronicler’s sudden issues are alarming. And then there’s this vote. It seems they agree with it. I don’t know to what level or depth yet, but they are excited about it. That’s not a good sign,” she said softly.

Shifting a little, I glanced past her and down the dark stone hallway. There were no lit lanterns down here, but there were tiny holes here and there in the ceiling. Ones that let in a little light, from somewhere up above. Sunlight, maybe, though their true purpose likely wasn’t for light but airflow. I could feel tiny breezes coming from some of them occasionally.

But still, those tiny little rays of light were starting to become dim and few and far between. I knew it was near the time for the sun to set, but something told me it was more than that. We were starting to get deep enough that the sunlight just couldn’t reach us down here.

“The vote I understand, to a point… but why would their internal strife bother you so much? Maybe they just had a fight or something,” I said. Such things happened, after all. Especially when one took into account how long our kind lived. Throughout hundreds of years it was inevitable that one would have disagreements, eventually.

She shook her head. “Randle has been one of the most devout and loyal members of the Chronicler’s cloth all this time. Since before I was born. He had served her sisters. He had served Celine,” she said.

Oh my. He was old then. “I see… So it’s startling and out of character,” I said.

“Very,” she said with a nod.

Hm…

“Why am I meeting him then?” I asked. She hadn’t really said the reason as to why. She had simply shown up earlier, asking if I’d come with her for a moment. I had been hoping that we’d be doing something else. Like meeting Vim, or maybe another member here like Henrietta and her family or going to get special food or something.

Instead we were doing this. Going deep under the Cathedral, where no one could see or hear us, to meet someone she didn’t trust and who also didn’t like Vim at all.

If not for the fact that I knew Oplar could be trusted, I’d be worried for my own safety.

“He asked to meet you. Plus he has something he wants to show you, and he’s the one who will be handling Angie. He overlooks all the orphanages here,” she said.

Oh…! “Okay… should I worry? Should I not give Angie to him?” I asked.

Oplar grinned at me. “What would you do, Renn? Raise her yourself?”

I nodded. “That or take her elsewhere,” I said. Vim had told me that Frett and others had all wanted children. Angie was human, of course, but I knew I’d be able to find somewhere for her. The Weaver’s place would work; they had many human kids there.

Her grin died a little as she realized I was serious. “I see. I’m sorry, for not realizing how serious you are about kids. I may have just come across as crass,” she apologized.

“How so?” I asked. She hadn’t seemed so to me.

“I’d not cared much for her. I figured we’d just hand her off to Randle and be done with her. I’m sorry,” she apologized again.

Hm… “It’s okay. I know she’s human, and all, so I know it’s just how it is,” I said, forgiving her.

She shook her head. “No. You’re right. Just because she’s human doesn’t mean anything. She’s still just a kid. One we’d taken responsibility for…” Oplar said, and then let loose a deep sigh. “If my mother had been here she’d have hit me something fierce,” she added.

I smirked at her. “Mine would have eaten her, so that even-outs our scales out I think,” I said.

Oplar flinched. “Really…? A kid?”

I nodded. “Likely. They had hated humans something fierce.” If she hadn’t eaten her they would have at the very least killed her.

My friend looked at me with a pitiful glance, and then sighed again. “All right. Basically Renn… just be on your guard. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Randle and the Chronicler going on the outs is almost as alarming as this vote about Vim. It makes no sense. Them both happening at the same time…” she shook her head. “Not a good combination.”

“Should I trust him about Angie at least?” I asked, since she hadn’t actually answered my original question about it.

“Oh. Yes. You can. He’s had Vim legitimately slaughter his own people, people of the cloth, who he’d caught molesting or harming the children he’s in charge of. I don’t like Randle, but you can indeed trust him with children. Vim trusts him in that manner too,” Oplar said.

Oh my. I nodded. “Good,” I said.

“Hm… Strange, isn’t it Renn?” Oplar asked.

“Being underground so much lately? Yes. I don’t like it to be honest. I think it’s the lack of fresh air and not being able to see the sky,” I said as I glanced up at the stones above us. Plus it reminded me of those sewers in Lumen. I didn't like it much. At least it didn't remind me of that pit.

Oplar laughed. “Right! Cat indeed! I actually find these halls very comforting! Makes me feel all cozy,” she said as she returned to walking.

I smiled at her. “So if you ever disappear to hibernate I just need to check down here, huh?”

“Indeed! My office by the way is near the door we used to come down here. The one at the end of the hall. It has my name on a plaque near it,” she told me.

Nodding seriously, I dedicated that information to heart. “Okay. I’ll make sure to visit and bug you when I can.”

“Please do!” she happily agreed.

Grinning at her, I was led farther down the darker hallway… until we came to a hallway that was lit up.

A few small lanterns hung from metal hooks along the wall, to a room that was brightly lit. One with a door that was open.

Oplar slowed a little, and then stepped closer to me. “Remember. He hates Vim,” she whispered quietly.

I nodded, and didn’t respond since I wasn’t sure if I should or not.

After all it didn’t matter if he hated Vim. As long as he was a decent man, who truly supported the Society… it didn’t matter if he hated or love him.

Just as it didn’t matter to Vim either if he hated or loved its members.

At least, that was what I told myself as Oplar and I approached the room and then stepped through the open door.

“Randle, I’ve brought her,” Oplar loudly said as she stepped into the brightly lit up room.

I scanned what looked to be a small study. There were bookshelves, a large desk, and three separate smaller tables with chairs littered amongst them. There was no fireplace, but there was a mighty large light fixture hanging above everything which… strangely looked similar to the odd glowing lanterns at Lumen’s Society housing. The one that didn’t burn anything and instead just gave off light.

The room was a little better furnished and decorated than I had expected, being down here so deep in the basement, but I was happy to find it so. It felt cozy and not claustrophobic. I was almost able to trick myself into thinking I wasn't underground thanks to how comfortable it seemed to be.

“Thank you Oplar. And thank you too, Rennalee, for coming even though I’m sure you’re tired,” A taller, thin, man spoke gently as he stood from behind the desk.

“Renn-a-what?” Oplar turned to look at me before I could say hello to the man who was obviously a priest. He wore robes commonly seen all over the Cathedral, though his looked a little old.

I smiled gently at her. “That’s my full name. Have we been so busy I’d failed to tell you?” I asked, feeling a little bad. I had seen her as a good friend all this time, so I’d hate it if she thought otherwise.

Oplar gave me a mighty grin. “What the heck! That’s cute as all can be! Rennalee eh? Sounds fancy. Like one of them smozey aristocrats,” Oplar said happily.

“Smozey?” I asked.

“She means schmoozy. She said it incorrectly,” the man corrected her.

“Bah! Shut it you! Not everyone can schmooze, you know!” Oplar said to him with a dismissive wave and then she stepped over to me. She patted my shoulder gently and grinned at me. “I’ll be heading back, Renn. You can remember how to get out of here right? Or should I come find you later?” she asked.

“I can get back. Thank you Oplar,” I said. Although this place was a maze, our route here hadn’t felt so. I could get back rather easily.

She nodded, and I noticed the way her grin looked sad. She gave my shoulder one last good, gentle, squeeze and then she stepped out of the room and into the darkness.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

I watched her go for a moment and realized she had just ran away. I couldn’t blame her, but…

Looking back at the tall man, I found him stepping up to me. He extended a thin hand and arm, which emerged from his very thick gray robe, and he gave me a warm smile.

“My name is Randle. I’m one of the bishops here, but amongst the Society the thing I proud myself the most of being is the one who acts as confessor, and keeps watch on those with naught else,” he introduced himself.

“Confessor…?” I asked gently as I took his hand. It really was thin. And he felt a little weak, and not just because he was being gentle. He must not be a predator.

Randle gave me a very warm smile. A recognizable one. One the old folks gave to children. “I’m one who hears the confessions of our people. Basically I’m the one who gets told everyone’s secrets and sins, as to help talk them through them. To find ways to absolve them of their sins, and worries, when able,” he explained gently.

Ah… “Nory had wanted to be what you are,” I said softly as I remembered. She hadn’t called the position a confessor, though.

“Nory…?” Randle frowned at me as our hands separated.

“A human I had lived with for a long time. Before joining the Society,” I said.

“I see. Very interesting. I’d heard you were very interested in our faith, but hadn’t heard you had experience being so close to it,” he said as he gestured to a nearby table. One with two large chairs sitting before it.

I nodded as I stepped over to join him in sitting down. “Much to Vim’s annoyance, yes. I do like it. I’ll admit I have some… concerns over it, but so far out of all the religions I’ve encountered it’s the one I find most interesting,” I said.

“Oh my. To hear such a thing fills me with glee. May my lords forgive me,” Randle said seriously as he sat down across from me. I felt my ear twitch beneath my hat, since I had not believed what I’d heard for a moment.

He had sounded so genuinely sincere just now.

“Why would you need forgiveness for that?” I asked.

“Because the glee comes not from another soul finding its way… but instead at the idea of Vim’s disgruntledness as his wife does. It must annoy him desperately, and my joy in such a thought is quite sinful,” Randle told me honestly.

Stunned a little, I couldn’t help but laugh. “At least you’re honest!” I said.

Randle gave me a gentle smile. “One must be. To not just be what I am, but to be what I wish to become,” he said.

“What is it you wish to become…?” I asked. Wasn’t he already basically at the top of the food chain? Not just in the Society, but his church too?

“An angel in my heaven, of course,” he answered without hesitation.

I blinked at the man’s very obvious, and instantaneous, proof of his beliefs.

It made me feel strangely unsteady. As if I was someone who just… wasted her time and life. As if compared to this man, I was minuscule, somehow.

It made me feel uneasy.

Maybe this was what Oplar hated about him. That pure confidence and dedication was not normal… especially not amongst our kind.

Vim had that kind of confidence, though for different reasons.

“How’d you know I’m Vim’s wife…?” I asked. I had only recently been telling people such a thing.

“Oplar told me,” he said.

Ah. Interesting. She hated him, but yet told him that all the same. I wonder why.

“I’m told you don’t like Vim. And based off what you just said earlier, I’m to assume it’s true?” I asked further.

He gave me a gentle smile. “I hate Vim. He’s in fact the only man that I do hate in all this world. However… my hate is not that of true wickedness,” he said.

Frowning at the priest, I shook my head. “How could hate not be wicked?”

“Because my hate for him is not out of what he’s done, or who he is. But rather what he could be and his lack of willingness to become it.”

Ah…

“You wish he was better,” I whispered.

Randle nodded. “Verily. And he can be. Could be. My hate of Vim is not of the man himself, but the man he should become yet refuses to do so. I want Vim to be better. Vim doesn’t think he can be, or doesn’t wish to be. Other than that though, I find Vim to be one of the most trustworthy, and devout, men I know,” he told me.

“Devout…?” I asked. Vim? Really?

He nodded. “Vim is the epitome of our faith’s morals. Whether anyone, even the Chronicler or her clan, wants to admit it or not doesn’t change that fact. You could take Vim and dress him in one of the prophet’s robes, or angel’s garbs, and no one would notice the difference. Not from his actions, at least,” Randle said as he placed his arms on the table between us and clasped his hands.

“Huh… I’m surprised to hear you say that,” I admitted.

“I’m sure. Most say the same.”

I bet.

“Can… can I know why I had to come here? Why didn’t you just come to us up there? At the house?” I asked what had been bugging me since the beginning.

Randle smiled gently at me. “Two reasons. Or well, honestly maybe three. First… I ran into Oplar a little bit ago. She told me, roughly, what happened and I asked if I could see you when I could. Since I have something for you. Oplar was the one who decided it should be now and not later. Secondly, I was in the middle of finishing something that had to be handled now and not later. I had just handed the letter off a few minutes before you and Oplar arrived,” Randle said with a point to the desk he had been sitting at.

“This is your office?” I asked.

“It’s my second one. There’s one up above in the main halls, but I prefer this one. I like the quiet when working,” he answered.

I see. Maybe this area was more frequented than I thought. Oplar and I hadn’t passed anyone down here, but based off all the hallways there was no doubt there were many routes and paths.

I should keep my hat on and tail hidden, then. Just in case.

“And the third reason?” I asked.

He smirked at me. “I had not wanted the Chronicler to know we met. Not yet anyway.”

A little surprised, I remembered what Oplar had mentioned.

They were having problems. Him and the Chronicler.

“Can I ask why…?” I asked.

“Of course you can. It concerns you after all. It’s because of the vote. She’ll claim us meeting is my attempt at swaying the vote, or influencing it. Which is ridiculous, but it’s her method of politics,” Randle explained.

I frowned at that. “I doubt there’s anything you can say or do which would change how I’d vote,” I said.

“Of that I have no doubt. And I’m glad to hear it, too,” he said.

I hummed at the man, and wondered if he really was as honest and truthful as I perceived him to be.

A part of me wanted to doubt his honesty… since it was seemingly so real.

Had Vim ever mentioned this man to me…? I didn’t think so. That was too bad. I could usually trust Vim’s comments about people, even when he made them offhandedly. It was how I sometimes knew who could be trusted and who couldn’t be.

“Why do you care if she thinks such a thing, though? And why keep it a secret? Is it not a sin to do such a thing?” I asked him, to see what he’d say.

“Because there’s an issue. Between me and her people. I’ve recently learned of something they’ve done that I do not approve of, or ever will. So… in Vim’s way of putting it, she and I are currently at ends with one another. I’m trying to properly handle it the best way I can and know how to. Also, I’d not keep our meeting a secret nor will. If anyone ever asks, I’ll readily tell them we’ve met and even all about anything we speak of. It’s not a secret I hide, but simply one that won’t get shared if no one asks about,” he said.

Ah… I see. “You’re hoping no one will notice or assume, then?” I asked.

He shrugged but said nothing.

“Oplar might speak of it. She likes to gossip,” I said.

“She might. But she also hates the Chronicler and all her people. That hate extends to me too, because of it. So I highly doubt the Chronicler will learn of us meeting from Oplar, if at all,” Randle said.

“You don’t think I’d tell anyone?” I asked.

“No. I believe you’ll keep it a secret. Especially after I show you what I need to… And to be perfectly honest I could not imagine Vim growing close with someone so unwise such as that. In fact, even if I had not heard of your quick mind from so many others, I still would have assumed you to be far wiser than most could imagine. Vim would not choose someone not so, I believe,” he said.

It was a little worrying to hear such a thing. That meant people really were talking about me. Though it was to be expected, being not only a new member, but also Vim’s wife… but to also have been already banished from so many locations as well. It was still concerning to know that people didn’t just gossip about what I’ve done, but also the type of person I was.

Even more so it was worrying that he was saying such things so seriously. It meant whatever was happening here, in this room and the Cathedral itself concerning the Chronicler and the rest, was something of note. Something beyond just a simple hello.

Shifting in my chair, I studied the man in holy garb and wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have come.

“If I get involved in anything too serious, Vim will be upset with me,” I warned him.

Randle slowly smiled. “I know. But I’m hoping his love for you will overlook it. Also, if anyone should worry over Vim’s wrath, it should be me I think.”

Well… he was right. “Does Vim hate you?” I asked.

“I don’t know. A part of me thinks he does… but…” Randle hesitated a moment, and I was surprised to see it. This was the first time he’d not answered immediately without such hesitation. How interesting. It made his honesty seem all the more real, thanks to it. “He has always been willing to hear me out, and listen to my advice. Even when upset. Plus… over the years he has trusted me on a few things too. Things he’s not trusted others with. So even if he hates me, I can say with confidence that hate is like my own for him. One of respect, not rage,” he finished.

Slowly nodding, I believed him.

“So… for what reason would you risk the Chronicler’s, and possibly Vim’s, ire?” I asked, a little excited to find out myself.

Randle nodded as he stood.

Without a word Randle stepped over to the door of the room… and shut it, then promptly locked it. I would have been a little off-put by the action, if not for the fact that I knew he was weak. Too weak to hurt me in any way. He stepped over to his desk afterward and he bent down a little behind it, and I heard a drawer latch open. One that had been locked.

He grabbed something within it, and I sat up straighter as he stood back up… and I noticed the thing in his hand. A small pamphlet, akin to a book with a soft cover. He then grabbed something else. A bundle of cloth.

Returning to the table, Randle handed me the small book-like object, which I hurriedly scanned for any hint of its purpose but couldn’t see them. The book was made of nice leather, but had nothing engraved upon it or sewn. There was no title, or anything to tell me what it was.

Before I could ask about it, or open it, Randle then took a small breath and drew my attention.

“It only took three hundred years but there you have it. I only have four promises left now. I wonder how long they’ll take me too,” Randle said, though somehow not to me and instead himself.

Three hundred years…?

I sat up a little straighter as I lowered the book to the table. I kept my hands on it, but only because it suddenly felt very precious for some reason.

“What is it…?” I asked softly.

“Celine’s letter. To you,” he said.

My whole body stiffened, and I gulped.

Randle nodded softly at me. “I know not what you know, so I of course am assuming certain things… since you’re his wife. But knowing Vim, he’s likely kept you in the dark as much as the rest of us. Part of the reason I hate him, you know, is his penchant for secrets,” Randle said as he sat back down. As he did, I noticed the way he hid the cloth bundle still in his hands. He had hidden it into his sleeve and under the table, away from my sight.

“I know who Celine is. Or well, I’ve heard of her. She was a saint,” I said.

He nodded. “The last true saint of our people. The Chronicler and her clan have given birth to saints over the years, and have acquired a few here and there occasionally, but Celine had been the last true one. The last one with a true connection to the divine. Her powers had been the real thing, not the sham mockery the Chronicler and her clan perform,” Randle said.

I noted the disgust in his voice when talking about the Chronicler, and did my best to see past it. Not because it bothered me, but because it told me that their little spat was likely far more serious than Oplar or Randle even described it to be.

Still…

“You said this was a letter for me,” I said as I glanced down at the book in my hands.

I heard his robe shift as he nodded. “It is. I was told to give it to the one who Vim marries without the steeple, who descends from the Orb of Night,” Randle said.

Frowning, I glanced at the man. “Steeple? Orb?” I asked.

Without answering Randle lifted his arm… and finally revealed the other item he had grabbed from his desk.

The thing was wrapped in a cloth of leather, a leather that looked suspiciously similar to the material on my waist. The same type of leather that hung on my belt, the pouch Vim had given me for the letters.

I gulped at the thing as he held it up, and I recognized its shape.

“A heart,” I whispered. I couldn’t see its glow, but there was no mistaking that shape. And what else would he have wrapped in that special leather?

Randle blinked, and then he smirked gently at me. “I do apologize, Renn. You look tired and I’m obviously making it worse. As mentioned, I had planned to call upon you later. But Oplar is Oplar,” he said gently, as if feeling bad about what was happening.

Sighing softly I nodded… and then frowned. I did feel exhausted. Even though I was a little excited too, right now, I knew without a doubt that I probably looked tired to him. I still needed, and wanted, my bath and I wasn’t sure what to say or think right now either.

The book, Celine’s letter supposedly to me, made sense… but…

A monarch’s heart…? Why was Randle showing me it? Did he want me to hold onto it until Vim got here?

“Wait… why do I need to see this? Shouldn’t you give it to Vim? He should be back soon,” I asked.

Randle paused a moment… and then I noticed the odd look on his face.

“I see. You know what it is yet you can’t tell. Interesting,” he mumbled softly.

“Excuse me…?”

Randle then gently placed the leather-wrapped heart onto the table. Right in front of me. He went to tugging on a few of the leather ends, and quickly unfolded them. A dark black orb of glass revealed itself, one that had tiny little circles floating inside of it.

I leaned a little closer, transfixed by the things inside. It too had a tiny storm in it, like the others I had seen, but this one had little odd-colored circles similar to bubbles floating within. They kind of looked like…

Actually…

Staring into the black orb, I wondered why it looked familiar. It glowed a little, but so had the others. In fact this one wasn’t glowing as much as Miss Beak’s, or that blue one at the Keep. This one was more similar to the one I’d handed Landi. It didn’t seem as dull though. Maybe the glow was just a different shade of black?

Plus the tiny little torrent of a storm within it was a little lopsided. It wasn’t a perfect circle, like the bubbles were. Instead it was almost like… well…

It looked like an eye. As if the glowing storm inside it was a pupil.

Though the pupil was not human shaped at all. Instead it was more angular. Sharper.

Reminding me of…

“Wait…” I whispered as I recognized the eye. One I’d not since seen my youth. Since my home and family.

Since I had buried Witch and set off on my own.

“It’s the heart of your elder, Rennalee. The heart of a jaguar.”