CHAPTER 14: PUZZLE

Upper Fire Month, 15th day, 17.00

"This is not good."

Agravaine observed what had once been the mighty figure lying before her eyes.

It resembled a bear, although it reached four meters in length and had its fur protected by a long carapace shell. Not that it had done him much good.

The now lifeless body was covered by a thick layer of lianas and vegetation, which wrapped it in a protective layer that preserved its shape, now increasingly close to decay.

"Fredem, were you able to figure out what happened?" She addressed her subordinate, forcefully plugging her nostrils so as not to assimilate that pestilential corpse smell.

"Judging by its size, this is no ordinary Ankyloursus. It could be one of the lords of the forest." Fredem answered her, still intent on coordinating the inspection activities of their small team.

Agravaine felt a knot in her throat. In the past three hundred years, no forest lord had ever been killed, as far as she could tell from their intel. Great changes were coming to the ecosystem of the Evasha Forest.

For now, the priority was to find out who had been the perpetrator of that ruthless execution.

"Maybe this is the work of the soldiers of the Theocracy? For their army, it could not have been an impossible feat."

If it really had been Slaine's troops, as much of a headache as that might have been, it still would not have meant a new unknown to investigate.

But things are never as simple as one would hope.

"I'm afraid not." Said Fredem. "A head-on confrontation between the Theocracy and one of the forest lords would have left recognizable battle marks. Even if we assume that Slaine's soldiers recovered every single victim and cleaned every last trace of blood from the surroundings, it still doesn't explain why there were almost no signs of the clash left on the corpse we found."

Agravaine again observed the lifeless mass before her eyes. She could not have called herself an expert in inspecting corpses, quite the contrary. But the elf knew that Fredem and his men had honed that skill during the long years in her service.

After all, there was no shortage of deceased bodies to study in that forest.

"Would you say that this Ankyloursus died of natural causes?" A hint of curiosity leaked from her voice.

"No, far from it." Fredem looked slightly uncomfortable; it was obvious that something was troubling him. "His neck was broken with a single, vigorous attack. He died instantly, without having the slightest chance to fight back."

"So," Agravaine shook the ponytail that the wind had blown back over her right shoulder. "You think he did it."

Fredem began clutching the spear he held with more intensity than usual, as if ready to unleash it at any moment. "It's hard to judge, but I think the only ones who are capable of such a feat are the Behemoth and the Judge of Nature."

So, there were two cases: infighting among the lords of the forest had begun or the king himself had decided to take the field.

Or ... perhaps Logem was right.

"Do you think it's possible that the Theocracy decided to bring that elusive little boy Logem always talks about into the field?"

"It could be" Fredem did not seem too convinced, however. "But in the last century, we have found no clue that this phantom son of the king, kept hidden by the Cardinals, really exists."

"They may have been very good at keeping him secret." Agravaine hypothesized.

"Or it could just be a vain hope of a desperate man." Fredem retorted.

"Do you think Logem is desperate?"

"I think all of us are looking for any reason to go on. Something to give meaning to a battle that never seems to end."

Even for beings with longevity as long as theirs, that conflict now seemed to have been going on forever.

The prospect of being exterminated and wiped off the face of the earth was becoming more enticing every day than a perpetual fight whose chances of victory were growing dimmer and dimmer for some of her underlings; Agravaine was aware of that.

The wind of change is always preceded by a hurricane of strife.

"The moment when the stalemate to which we have been condemned for years breaks could come at any moment. Come what may, at least before long our pain will finally end."

Agravaine looked her comrade straight in the eye. He looked away. The color of her irises always put him in awe, probably because they were memories of unpleasant times.

"What will be our next move?"

"To begin with, we ought to try to find out who was the perpetrator of this slaughter. Once we return to the village, we will prepare a reconnaissance team. You will be part of it, of course."

"Roger that." Replied the man. His brow furrowed.

"After that," the woman continued. "We have to prepare escape routes for some of the survivors we've rounded up over the past few days. Remind me how many we helped last month."

"Fifteen in all. No casualties."

Fifteen. Almost double their monthly average. Splendid.

Their goal now was to increase that number.

"We should also start preparing as many supplies as possible to be crammed into the village stores. If the war gets even more chaotic, the chances of gathering fruits and hunting wild animals will decrease significantly. How many druids do we currently have?"

"Three at the moment. Counting you, Agravaine."

"And how many are able to use fourth-tier magic?"

"Only you."

"I see."

It would have been desirable to have more druids to produce greater quantities of food in the shortest possible time, but at the moment they had to make do with what they had on hand.

Agravaine closed the buttons of her cotton jacket, which had remained open up to that point. Night would soon fall, and the air was beginning to cool.

She gathered the other elves present; before the day came to an end, they had one more matter to settle. It would be difficult, but the outcome of that mission depended on the outcome of their future.

"If there are no objections, I would say we can continue toward our initial destination. Ahead, the Thousand Acre Glade awaits us."

None of those present showed any objection to continuing their exploration.

Indeed, their expedition outside had certainly not set out to analyze the corpse of an overgrown bear. Far from it.

Located inside a clearing hidden among foliage and trees, the clearing that was the object of their destination was particularly difficult to reach.

The reason for this was that the main entrance changed periodically, making it almost impossible to locate it exactly before it was subject to a new change.

The only reliable method of succeeding in entering it was therefore to receive an invitation from the inhabitants of that almost mystical place. An invitation they had only recently managed to earn.

Could it be that the turmoil that had been occurring in recent months had prompted those guardians to rise from their inaction?

In any case, she could not have missed that opportunity to gain valuable new allies.

Walking through the bush, Agravaine could not help but be taken aback by the oppressive silence that cloaked the streets. Not even a fly she could hear flying.

All the inhabitants of that forest were on their toes, aware that the slightest noise would attract the unwanted attention of a predator prowling there.

The pathway that would lead them to the designated place was, at the moment, a narrow crevice protruding between the junction of two centuries-old trees, each with a diameter reaching hundreds of meters.

In order to get through it, Agravaine and her subordinates had to kneel down and walk dozens of meters, letting the dirt and soil accumulate on their legs.

I suppose they are still wary of letting us approach their sacred place. Hopefully, we will be able to bring home some results.

After a few minutes, they popped up in a large open space. The vegetation was impressive, more than normal. The trees, most of them acres but countless species such as oaks, magnolias, willows, and birches were also present, stood proudly and grandly toward the infinite sky.

Looking at that imposing panorama, Agravaine felt small and helpless as she had rarely felt in her life. However, it was not only the sight of the plants that was breathtaking.

Some beings roamed those little-trodden paths that never seemed to have glimpsed the hand of men or elves.

Their size varied from individual to individual, but she could not glimpse a single one that was less than three meters.

In addition, their features were vaguely humanoid but displayed certain characteristics that differentiated them greatly from races such as dwarves, elves, or men.

To begin with, their limbs were an intricate hodgepodge of lianas, branches, flowers, and leaves that came together perfectly in a brightly colored plant mosaic.

The limbs of arms and legs were conspicuously thin, but at the same time compact and solid as mountains. The faces were flattened and plump, one might have said almost funny.

The elongated, slender noses were graceful twigs of wood from which sprouted pretty little green-colored leaves.

Would they change color with the passing of the seasons, like ordinary trees?

But the most extraordinary detail of their physiognomy were the small ecosystems that seemed to have adapted on the bodies of some of the larger specimens.

For example, on the shoulder of a giant that seemed to be close to eight meters, she noticed some breeds of birds that had formed their nests. On the leg of another, a small colony of ants seemed to have formed a colony between the space between the knees and the foot. Yet another had a small hive attached to a protuberance sticking out of his right arm.

It is amazing how each of them exhibits such distinctly marked characteristics compared to the other exemplars. Every individual specimen is different from his peers; I wonder if they also notice the small differences that characterize us elves or, on the contrary, consider us all copies of each other.

Agravaine's mind began to smoke as she analyzed that flood of features and details that presented themselves before her eyes. Under other circumstances, she would gladly have spent weeks in that enchanted place, so that she could learn as much as possible about the culture and customs of those seemingly peaceful beings.

But, alas, she could not waste time on such nonsense.

"Fredem," she turned to her second in command. "Let's be careful and try not to antagonize them, if a battle should break out, I don't think we will have much chance of victory."

"Leave that to me." He answered her. "Men, in formation! And be careful!"

At the man's order, the small group huddled tightly around the woman who captained them. Had it been necessary, each of them would have gladly sacrificed their life to allow her to escape.

"You are to be the guests of the Keeper of the Balance. I am Kastol, let me lead you to him." One of the giant presents addressed them.

"Yes, we are the delegation of elves who have been invited to this sacred place. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Agravaine, and these are the men and women under my command."

Following her example, each elf present lowered his head in a sign of respect. The gesture was returned with equal courtesy by Kastol.

"Before I lead you to our leader, let me close the passage. So that no unwanted guests may enter."

Agravaine watched carefully as her guide approached the narrow opening through which they had entered and, later, cast a magic that locked up the bottleneck.

So, they are also able to use magic. Judging by the control exercised over the trees, it should be Druidic magic, like mine. If each of them was a capable spellcaster, they could prove to be valuable assets to our cause.

After they had finished their introductions; the group, to which the wood giant had now been added, began to set out.

Kastol was not a man -or woman, distinguishing sexual genders, if there were gender at all, was certainly not an easy task- of many words; indeed, it would be more accurate to say that he did not speak at all.

He had probably received strict instructions not to divulge sensitive information to those who were still outsiders for the time being.

Agravaine, nevertheless, managed to extrapolate some information by carefully observing the surrounding landscape. Her gaze circled the surroundings, searching for any small clues.

I would not say they are very numerous; even assuming they do not want to show themselves to strangers, I doubt they exceed hundreds of inhabitants.

In fact, most of the wood giants gave little thought to their passing, granting them at most a brief glance of curiosity.

"There are no structures that resemble houses or roads, everything is left in its natural state as if the smallest construction could soil this enchanted landscape." Noted Fredem, dumbfounded by the naturalistic spectacle that surrounded them.

"Yes, you are right. They live in perfect harmony with Mother Nature. More than any other species living in this forest."

Even for them, who had always been accustomed to the dense vegetation of the Evasha Forest, that place exuded something sacred and divine. It was as if it had been preserved as much as possible in its original state when it was a project coming to life in the minds of the Gods.

The dazzling colors of the leaves unfolded with the overwhelming majesty of a rainbow. The grass on the ground glowed with crystalline dew while the flowers decorated the landscape with an intense spectrum of hues and shades, all different from each other.

Different species of magical beasts and animals lived in perfect harmony, leaping in the fields or feeding on what grew on the bodies of some giants.

It was a utopian spectacle that filled Agravaine's heart with a sweet warmth. That place appeared to be lost in time, the sufferings of the outside seemed not to touch or scratch that perfect image of calm and peace cultivated in that oasis of sweetness.

At the same time, the elf was also overwhelmed by an impervious determination. The desire to bring that dreamy spectacle even outside, among her people, foreshadowed itself more and more insistently within her soul.

"We have arrived." Kastol pointed them to a giant tree that stood out in the center of a wide space covered with the most diverse vegetation.

No, it was not a tree. It was another wood giant, only even more imposing than the other specimens they had glimpsed earlier.

Fifteen meters...no, maybe even twenty. Unbelievable!

Sitting on a throne of thorns embellished with rose petals, in his presence, the others of his kind looked like only small infants. Agravaine imagined him touching the sky with one finger and grabbing a cloud to offer to them as a homage.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Nice to meet thou, strangers. I am Bombadillo, leader of this little coven. 'Tis an honor to meet thou."

His voice boomed with the force of a thousand drums, but at the same time, it had an innate melody, vaguely reminiscent of nightingales singing.

They were so small in his presence. Agravaine was sure that if that giant had wanted to, he could have crushed them with a single movement of his index finger, without them being able to do anything to escape him.

"The pleasure is all ours, lord of the forest. My men and I are at your service."

"No want to be so formal." His friendliness was a good sign. " After all, thou came hither under mine direct invitation. Thou shall be treated as mine equals as long as thou respect our customs."

Agravaine breathed a sigh of relief. Things had started out on the right track, and she would have done anything to keep them going that way.

"Your kindness comforts me and my men. If you don't mind me asking, what were the reasons that prompted you to finally agree to our requests for a meeting? We have been trying to get in touch with your people for at least fifty years."

A pair of sparrows perched on the giant's shoulders. Bombadillo gently stroked them with his fingertips. Despite the considerable difference in size, the birds did not seem perturbed by his gesture, as if they could instinctively sense the titan's kindness.

"A few days since, one of the lords of the forest died," he began, the tone of his voice now closer to a sad funeral song. "It had been centuries since such an event befell. The forest mourns the perpetual loss of one of its lords."

"We know," Agravaine replied. "We found his corpse on the route that brought us to your presence."

"His corpse?" Bombadillo was strangely surprised by that statement. His body, until then in a state of deep calm and stillness, began to show signs of disturbance. "Mine countrymen personally arranged to bury him in a secluded place, far from the roads normally trafficked by forest dwellers. Say to me, how didst thou find him?"

An unhealthy doubt began to creep into the elf's mind. Was it possible that...

"Which lord specifically are you referring to, Sir Bombadillo?"

"To the Gigahorn Elk Lord. One of the small reconnaissance groups we routinely send without found his remains hold, but for a few weeks since."

As I thought.

"Your Excellency, unfortunately, I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news."

"What doth thou mean?" Bombadillo looked at her with a note of astonishment from the top of his height.

"The body we came across was not that of Gigahorn Elk, but of a larger than normal Ankyloursus. We suspect it was the pack leader of that dangerous race."

"So, the dead lords are at least two." The wood giant let out a sad sigh, his breath wafting through the air like an autumn wind. "I didn't expect it would come to this. My liver moves like I am reliving the events of five hundred years since."

"What are you referring to, if you don't mind me asking?" That last note had aroused Agravaine's curiosity. Five hundred years ago. A date with which she was now all too familiar.

"Long time ago it was natural for mine kind to reach mine size. Most species that inhabited the forest had divers' physiognomies and peculiarities from those with which thou wot them today. At least till the Eight Invokers of Ruin arrived."

"Are you referring to the Eight Greed Kings?" Asked Agravaine, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Is that what they bid them outside the sacred forest?"

"Yes, many legends speak of these eight legendary figures, towering like giant dragons who brought ruin and destruction to the world." Agravaine pointed out.

"Dragons? I remember some of them having similar features, yet others looked more like humans or elves."

That it was a different group the old sage named? Or had the legend concerning the Eight Greed Kings changed over time?

"Either way," Agravaine continued. "What led you to remember those events of the past?"

"As I was saying, at the time I was only a small shrub and mine memories are fuzzy. I'm fairly sure that what thou elves bid lords of the forest today are naught more than the last survivors of what we might find the original races of yesteryear."

"In short, without the fiercest predators, the least dangerous beasts have thrived. I dare not imagine what the ecosystem of the forest once was."

In her heart, Agravaine was grateful for the extermination work of the Eight Greed Kings. As cruel as it may have seemed, without their intervention the elves' population probably would not have been able to thrive as it did.

"Yes, that's right. And I am afraid that, alas, the events of centuries since are now being repeated. In recent months something strange hath been happening in our beloved home."

Agravaine gritted her teeth. A theory began to form.

Five hundred years ago eight figures brought chaos to the world, including this forest. Then they mysteriously disappear, according to legends because of a civil war. Then, a few years later, our beloved king appears, almost out of nowhere. Could it be that he is a survivor of that group? It would explain his seemingly unlimited powers. But why is he acting right now, after years of inaction?

"I know what you're thinking," Fredem told her. "And I don't like it at all."

"It's just a guess for now. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Even if her assumption had been correct, it would have simply explained the tyrant's origins. It would have changed their situation very little.

"Thou seem to hast something in mind," Bombadillo addressed them. He was so monumental that a single gesture of his finger could have crushed them all. Yet, even so, he appeared to be seriously concerned about those mysterious deaths. "Please share thy information with me. If we want to start an alliance relationship, it is good to start it with the right root."

"Yes, you are right." Agravaine agreed, lowering her head in apology. "We think it was the elf king who carried out these executions, if you want to call them that. But we ignore the reasons behind these actions."

"The elf king," the wood giant's meditative expression had a calming effect; the herbs on his face began to move, lulled by the wind, propagating a chamomile-like scent. "I recall that he possesses extraordinary faculties and that he rules thy people with an iron fist. But I do not regard these deaths are within his modus operandi, at least that of the Gigahorn Elk Lord."

"What makes you believe that?" If not the elf king, who then could have been able to kill not one but two forest lords?

" To mine knowledge, the king is a powerful druid, yet he hath no undead in his service."

"Undead?" Agravaine turned her gaze toward Fredem and the other elves, who looked as astonished as she was. "Why do you think there are undead in the midst of all this?"

"This is simple. We found a bunch of carrions and other undead along with the corpse. Of course, we got rid of them."

Undead. Occasionally, one would pop up here or there but the beasts of the forest would not let it roam for long.

Now, however, a whole herd had appeared, capable of eliminating one of the strongest beings around. It smelled like...trouble.

"Could it have been the men of the Theocracy?" Judging by his expression, Fredem seemed to share her concerns. "Maybe they have some particularly capable necromancers in their service."

The Theocracy. In the end, it all came back to that cursed nation. Despite being at war for so many years they still knew so little about their enemies.

Their hatred was a sword that continually hung over their heads, its swing a daily reminder that they would never find peace.

The faith of the Six Great Gods preached hatred of the undead, ruthless enemies of the living. But at the same time, they worshiped one as their supreme deity. A contradiction inherent in the doctrine that could have justified the use of those banned arts.

"We can stand here racking our brains for hours, but it is clear that we are missing key pieces to reconstruct the complete picture."

Nevertheless, at least they had a starting point, to begin with. More than they had had in recent decades.

"As soon as we get back, I will prepare suitable teams to investigate. If humans are behind this, I promise I will find out." Proposed Fredem.

Dear old Fredem. Without him, her work would have been much, much more difficult. And boring.

"Your Excellency Bombadillo,'' the forest lord had listened intently to their conversation, trying to assimilate as much as possible. "If it is alright with you, I will leave a couple of my men here. So as to keep contact between our people active."

"Sure. Granted our size, thou well understand how it is difficult to gather information without sticking out." For a moment the wood giant seemed almost embarrassed by his size. "May Mother Earth bless our alliance. Let the harvest of our partnership be fruitful. Naught is dearer to mine heart than this forest. And I shall do everything possible to protect it!"

He stood up. Not even the fiercest storm could have brought him down. His body was an impregnable fortress, a masterpiece of nature that divided earth and sky. Having him as a potential ally would have been a great victory for their cause.

"I promise you that the results will come," Agravaine said, before taking her leave. " You are not the only one who calls this place home, I can assure you of that!"

Upper Fire Month, 21st day, 8.00

Aeneas Marte Vicente was on his knees.

Why was the valiant Black Scripture captain, young prodigy, and ace of humanity in that stance?

Simple; because before him stood the most illustrious authority of the Theocracy, in whose presence even one in his position was but a wretched man.

The patron deity of the Theocracy of Slaine. The undead watched over the welfare and preservation of the descendants and followers of the Six Great Gods from the beginning of time.

Rufus, the first follower of Surshana. Although Aeneas doubted that was his real name.

His dark cloak engulfed the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the faint light of a few candles; the crystals of his mask glittered with ardor, drawing the viewer's attention to them.

The room that served as his study was large and spacious, stacks and stacks of books and scrolls were piled on a gaudy mahogany desk.

"Can I trust you, Aeneas? What I am requesting you to do is an extremely delicate task. It demands the utmost delicacy and care."

The undead was now next to him, Aeneas's head at the level of his collarbone. Strangely, his living corpse emitted no odor. Was this due to magic or maniacal care for his own cleanliness?

"Forgive me for daring to ask," the boy prayed in his heart that his doubt would not be mistaken for insolence. "But don't you think you are the most suitable person for this task? After all, you have known her much longer than I have."

Rufus gently touched his shoulder; the cold chill of his glove spread with speed on contact with his shirt, causing Aeneas to shiver.

"Antilene and I have discussed this matter more than once. I believe, or rather I hope, that a different voice than usual can more easily convince her of the seriousness of the situation."

Aeneas doubted that he was the most suitable individual for that thorny task, but the young man did not intend to contradict the ancient protector further.

The understanding of the human soul and the intricate riddles of the mind had been analyzed and dissected over the centuries by the sacred guardian, the closest being to God who still presided over their sacred land.

His wisdom shaped the essence of the Theocracy, while his intellect guided humanity toward a prosperous future. In his presence, he was still a silly little boy, not far removed from the arrogant full-of-himself brat who had walked through the sacred doors of the hall of the Gods only a year before.

"I will see to it that your trust is not misplaced. I salute you, Holy Protector!"

"I have no concerns in this regard." With a wave of his hand, Rufus pointed him to the exit of the room. "Now go, don't waste any more time."

Without being asked twice, Aeneas got up to head to the place where his companion was standing.

He walked slowly. After all, there was no need to hurry. There was no need to hurry.

To reach the treasury of the Gods, the boy would have to climb a small staircase that connected the secret quarters with the rest of the Cathedral.

Upon arriving, he hesitated.

Aeneas climbed a couple of steps. He stopped, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, which were on the point of cracking. Another step. The image of a bloody face. His head began to spin. What was stirring him up? There was nothing to be afraid of, after all!

He resumed his ascent. A dangerous urge to vomit took hold of him. A penetrating smell of piss disrupted his senses. Aeneas steeled himself. The destination was almost reached.

The young boy completed that desperate endeavor. His legs were shaking. His arms seemed to be on the verge of coming off at any moment. Only his fortitude could hold all parts of his body together.

It didn't matter. The corridor walls leading to the treasury seemed to him to unfold endlessly. A year had passed. He was not the same as he used to be.

Aeneas felt crushed, an unseen force cutting off his breath. As he longed for air, there was not even the slightest shadow of windows.

The young Captain felt the walls closing in; they were trapping him in an endless labyrinth with no way out.

It was just a bad game of his mind. What was he afraid of? She had never hurt him, except for that one painful time.

But what if this time was different?

No, only paranoia devoid of any substantiation. Antilene takes no pleasure in hurting. It was just part of her job, a thankless but essential duty. And he was grateful to her for it.

Aeneas cursed himself. He realized that he had not matured as much as he thought he had.

He saw her.

Leaning as always against the walls near the entrance to the hall, with that perpetually annoyed air. At her side rested the faithful scythe, Charon's Guidance; perhaps the only friend she had.

Aeneas wondered if her presence there was really necessary. Had anyone ever managed to sneak in so far as to warrant her unceasing vigilance? Probably not.

Perhaps she was not the one guarding those sacred relics, but it was these relics that were keeping company to a girl who could not find her place except among those ancient mementos.

It was not she who was taking care of the legacy of the Gods, but it was the Gods themselves who were protecting the last surviving trace of their lineage.

An inaccessible temple to call home, dead Gods to act as a family.

"Oh Aeneas, it's you!" He did not even need to announce himself; nothing escaped the sharp senses of the ace of humanity.

"Yes, Lady Zesshi," Aeneas said as he approached her, fearfully. Over the past year, his body had grown to such an extent that he could tower over her, yet the young Captain still felt tiny in the presence of the half-elf. "I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."

"No, don't worry. It's not like there are many things to do here." The girl held a funny cube-shaped object in her hands, measuring a little more than five centimeters on each side and in outward appearance presenting nine squares on each of its six faces.

Aeneas recognized it as a toy recently launched on the Theocracy's entertainment product market, which had achieved popularity in a very short time.

"How did the last mission go?" She continued. "I heard that the Black Scriptures were sent to those wild lands that border the Holy Kingdom."

"The Abelion Hills," he pointed out. "We took out a tribe of horuner, whose leader had as his project the unification of all the races there."

"Did you find anything interesting?" Antilene asked. From the beginning of the conversation, she had never looked up from her new toy, even though the results she was getting could hardly be called satisfactory.

"No, on the contrary. In all frankness, I think Strongest Human alone would have been enough to complete the mission. Though I suppose caution can never be too much."

It had been since he had begun holding the position as the first seat that he had not encountered a single opponent that required the use of his capabilities. Not that he was complaining about it; the work he was given was already demanding more than enough for his liking.

"I see." She was obviously disappointed by that statement. "Who knows, if the tribes had managed to unite under one banner perhaps my intervention would have been required. Maybe I should pay a little visit to the Astrology and Oracle Bureaus and convince them to take a well-deserved vacation!" A soft chuckle spread through the room.

"Please don't joke about such things, Lady Zesshi!"

"I thought I told you to call me Antilene, at least when we are alone." She retorted, clearly annoyed at having to make that remark for the umpteenth time.

"I'm sorry, Lady Antilene!" Calling the extra seat by her first name was greatly inappropriate and disrespectful, in his mind. But contradicting her could have been worse.

She looked him straight in the eye, turning her gaze on him for the first time since he had approached her.

Her heterochromatic eyes shone with an intense glow: one as dark as the deepest of abysses, the other as sparkling as the brightest of asters.

"Don't worry," she comforted him with a macabre smirk. "I was just teasing you a little; you can understand how boring it is to be cooped up in this place for so long. I just dream of having some action, something to get my blood pumping for a change. That's all."

These did not seem to him to be topics on which it was appropriate to joke, but Aeneas decided to remain with his mouth shut. Getting her riled up over such nonsense might have proved counterproductive to his assignment.

"In any case," her attention returned to the toy she held in her hands. "How are you getting along in your new position? It's been a couple of months now since you started presiding over your position as Black Scripture Captain."

"It's actually been a year, Lady Antilene." He corrected her.

"Oh!" A little squeak of surprise. "Has it already been that long? You have to excuse me but the days repeat the same one after another in this place."

Or perhaps it was simply her time perception that was not aligned with that of normal human beings, Aeneas thought.

"I would say things are going well for now. My comrades listen to my orders and at the same time are a source of valuable advice, especially older members like Strongest Human and Four Great Spirits."

"I'm glad to hear that. Cohesion within a group is crucial and... dammit! I thought I almost managed to solve it."

Antilene was still intent on trying to figure out the riddle of the cube she held in her hands. The half-elf had managed to line up all the faces on one side, but after a few ill-considered shifts she had scuttled her small success.

Now she looked at the toy with slight frustration, determined to complete that challenge it offered as if her very life depended on it.

"Although," Aeneas tried to distract her from her failure. "Windstride and One-Man Army tend to squabble at the most inappropriate times. Nothing too serious for now, but I hope to reverse this behavior of theirs in the future."

The relationship between Clementine and Quaiesse was...complicated. There was no other way to describe it. Aeneas was not an only child and could understand the inherent sibling rivalry, but not to that extent.

"Do you want me to straighten them out? Maybe they need another brush-up of my teachings."

Aeneas shuddered. Although that disturbing offer was not addressed to him, the boy could not help but feel a shiver of terror run up his body.

"No, there is no need for that. As a leader, it is my job to provide for the internal relations of my subordinates."

"Hum, you're right. However, if you should need my help, please feel free to request it." It was a sincere offer, which made it all the more frightening.

"I will, Lady Antilene." In his mind, Aeneas marked off the favor his two companions would one day have to return to him.

"Good, I suppose." That Antilene had hoped for a different answer? "Now, tell me, why did you come here? Although I can perfectly imagine the reasons."

The moment of truth.

"The Guardian Deity has ordered me to report to you that we have lost five more reconnaissance units in the last month alone."

"And...?"

"We believe it's your father's doing. In all likelihood, he has decided to take the field himself."

He held his breath, expecting an outpouring of anger and contempt.

"I know."

Calmer reaction than he would have bet.

"You...you know?"

A mocking grin appeared on the half-elf's lips. "Do you think these are just for show?" She said, pointing to the pointed ears buried under the mass of her hair. "News of the death of a relative of the Water Cardinal reaches even the recesses of the most unthinkable places."

"So, you're not planning to do anything crazy and abandon your post, are you?"

Antilene shrugged her shoulders. "Why should I? I don't see any reason to leave at the moment."

That was not what Rufus and the Cardinals believed. The character of their trump card was ... unpredictable, to use a generous term.

"The higher-ups fear that this sudden desire of your father to participate in the conflict will motivate you to... make hasty decisions."

The girl emitted what was halfway between a clearing of her throat and a hushed giggle, which in the silence of the place spread with the force of an outburst.

"Tell them they have nothing to fear." She reassured him. "To begin with, if I decided to leave the Theocracy in any case there would be no one in a position to stop me, or would there? So why worry?"

"No, you are right." Aeneas could not contradict her. Even if they had brought all the Scriptures together in full, the only certain outcome would have been defeat.

"And besides," the extra seat continued, "before long it will be the Pontifex and the Cardinals themselves who will be begging me to take the field. Waiting a few more days or months is no problem. Soon, very soon, my destiny will be fulfilled!"

"What makes you say that?" The girl's words did not sound like mere small talk, but a pleasant truth that she had waited a long time to proclaim.

"It's simple," she began to explain as if it were the most trivial thing in the world. "No one but me is capable of killing my father. And I am sure that not very far down the road something will happen that will convince even our dear leaders of that. If they want to carry out this war, there is no choice left but to let me fight him."

It was sound reasoning. A heavy weight lifted from Aeneas' soul; thanks to the Gods, his assignment had turned out to be easier than expected.

"So do you anticipate an event occurring soon that will justify your deployment?" Certainly not the most optimistic of prospects.

"Yes, I'm sure of it!" Proclaimed Antilene with brimming confidence.

She walked toward him. "Here, there are many more in the treasury. Consider it a small gift." The half-elf handed the small cube into the hands of the boy, who stood for a second dazed by the strange offer.

"Are you sure you want to give it to me?" He said, grasping it gently.

"Consider it a tiny homage. So maybe next time you won't be afraid to visit me."

She noticed.

"I..." he attempted to say something, but the words remained stuck in his mouth, unable to come out.

"Don't worry," a veil of melancholy appeared on her face. "I know it's hard."

What made people capable of obeying the Gods' commands also made them capable of sinning.

An old saying of his father's, perfect to describe his callousness. The foolish arrogant brat of a year ago was still alive, not gone as he thought.

"Next time it won't happen, that's a promise!"

"I'm counting on it! Now go, the day is long and there are many more tasks ahead of you."

"See you, Antilene."

They said goodbye with a nod. Embarrassment was in the air.

Stepping out into the open Aeneas found himself strangely invigorated by the conversation. He realized that while his body was making progress, his mind was still far from achieving the perfection required by his charge.

The young boy looked at the cube he was holding and, as he made his way to his abode, began to slowly move its pieces, with the utmost care, all intent to successfully complete it.