The small study was awfully quiet. The only sound in the chamber came in the form of the ticking of the large antique clock in the corner. However, from time to time, a different noise joined it in the form of the almost inaudible rasping of the cardinal’s pen on the smooth surface of the large sheet of paper in front of him. After a few minutes of silence the man looked up from his work and checked the time.

Saberger: "(It’s almost nine…)"

After a few moments of consideration Saberger stood up and stretched his stiff joints. The sudden surge of blood in his limbs felt positively blissful, which was not surprising, considering that he had been sitting there since noon, unmoving like a statue for the whole time. He looked over the sheet in front of him, the blueprints of the very cathedral he was standing in.

They were for the plans of the recent renovation works. He didn’t know that much about architecture, but as the cardinal of this region he was inclined to at least take a look at them before he gave the green light to the construction workers. The cathedral, obviously enough, was built upon the existing framework of a Christian church. Back then, at the time of the devastation, a lot of people turned away from religion, losing their already weakened faith in the turmoil of those times. This cathedral once used to be the center of the Christian religious practice around this small segment of the world, but as the last of its caretakers left or died three hundred years ago, it fell into disrepair.

The Order always had a propensity to use the remnants of the old world as a foundation to build upon, and religion was no different. As there were no Christians around this part of the world anymore, they took over the role of the church and they shamelessly used the image of the dwindling religion’s old glory for their own. The cathedral itself carried over its significance symbolizing hope and security in the eyes of the masses and steadfastness in the eyes of the Order’s soldiers at the same time, both of which were used as tools of propaganda.

But in the end the cathedral was just a building, and buildings deteriorate with time. As such the time has come for renovations, but there were several different voices in the crowd expecting different things. Some, namely the more religious segment within the Order, wanted it to be restored to its former glory to show the world the greatness of Nov’Elsfaan. Another group wanted it to become a fortress, even more so that it was at the moment, and they were relentlessly lobbying for turning the whole area into yet another military base, religious in name only.

As for Saberger, he couldn’t care less. According to Cassandra’s predictions it wouldn’t matter anyway, but meddling with the plans was a great way to waste some time nevertheless. He wasn’t used to make his own decisions anyway, so playing around with different ideas was refreshing, futile as they might have been. He actually went so far as to try his hand with the plans himself, even though he had no experience with such things. The cathedral, the religion… Even the Order wouldn’t matter at all in just a few short months, so why not? He decided to just wait and play the role fate bestowed upon him. Yet still…

Still, there was something… Something akin to a bad premonition, an indescribable gut-feeling that made him nervous. As he wordlessly walked over the study and washed his face in the small bowl of water, normally used for ritual purposes, he couldn’t help but smile ironically at the reflection staring back at him from the other side of water’s mirror.

The bags under his eyes, testaments of his hard work, were even darker than usual, yet his expression seemed no more tired than before. Although, truth be told, he couldn’t remember the last time he truly felt alive. There was no need to rush anywhere after all. His life, everyone’s life was predetermined, or more accurately, was guided by invisible hands towards the same destination. There was no use rushing, he will get there when he has to and will do what he was supposed to do. His role was not that of the hero, he was only one of the countless crew-members of this grand play whose job is to arrange the backdrops into their perfect position so that the real heroes can shine even brighter as the end of the play arrives.

The end of the play… It was so close, yet he still couldn’t make up his mind if he was waiting for the final curtain to fall. Why? Because he didn’t know what was behind that curtain, and this unknown filled him with a feeling bordering dread.

He washed his face once again and looked over to the clock. It was a little after nine, and the sky outside his sole window has already darkened. Still, he decided to go out for a moment. There was something he had to make sure of, something he had to ask one last time…

~~~

Kiseki: "Brrr… I never thought the desert could be this cold."

Viktor: "Yes, you already said that today. And yesterday. And the day before that…"

Kiseki: "Yes, because it was cold back then too…"

Viktor: "… Why am I even trying…?"

The knight gave up and sat down in the sand and started unpacking his bedroll. As he looked up at the absentminded woman beside him, he let out a small curse under his breath. Once he believed in karma, but the events of the last few days proved him otherwise.

After he showed them into the abbot’s office he never thought he would meet those two again. Or rather, he hoped not to. Then he went to the training ground to let off some steam, and who else would come by than those two? As it turned out, they requested him as their guide because they found the faces he made when being annoyed funny. And yes, there were quite a few reasons for him to be annoyed with just those two around, but to add some icing to the cake, he was also entrusted with six Type-Os.

Add the two annoying mercenaries and the six gurgling monsters together, and you end up with something that would make any lesser man scream like a little girl. Not him though, he endured the torment with silent dignity…

Kiseki: "Vikki!"

Viktor: "VIKTOR! My name is VIK-TOR for Nov’Elsfaan’s sake!!!"

… Most of the time.

Kiseki: "Can you make a fire?"

The woman looked at him with pleading puppy-dog eyes, his complaints flying high over her head as usual.

Viktor: "No I can’t! There’s no wood around here!"

Kiseki: "But you could make a fireplace yesterday!"

Viktor: "Yes, because there WERE trees back THERE, but there’s NO wood HERE!"

Kiseki: "… Then let’s go back and bring some here!"

Viktor: "Wha…!?"

For a long second the knight froze on his tracks and only stared at the woman in the white dress that was somehow still completely immaculate even after three weeks of travel through countryside. At first he wondered if she was serious, but even after all their interactions, he still couldn’t believe she would say something so monumentally dumb.

Kiseki: "Come on! Let’s go back, and cut down all the trees we can find. Then those Type-O guys can carry them back here!"

Well, apparently she was. Viktor raised his hand to rub his temple until it hurt before he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It didn’t work.

Viktor: "We can’t! It would take us back one more day! We have already been travelling for two damn weeks! Even on foot, we were supposed to reach the mark on the map in just five days!"

Kiseki: "Really? Wow Vikki, you suck at this guide job…"

There was a popping sound in his ears, like a string breaking from tension, and his fingers involuntarily curled into fists.

Viktor: "You little…!"

Adhi: "Kiseki! Vikki! I’m back!"

Before the knight could say what he wanted, the other weirdo literally crashed between the two of them. For a moment Viktor could only spit and rub his eyes until the dust cloud settled down after the impact. He would have wondered just how fast the short man in the suit had to run for him to kick up so much dirt upon stopping, but then his vision was suddenly filled by a small burlap sack.

Adhi: "I found food!"

Viktor: "Food? Here?"

Saying so Viktor opened his arms while gesturing towards the desert around them. They have already left the grasslands around the desert and there was nothing but endless dunes of sand around them with no signs of life whatsoever, not even a single tree or shrub in the distance. It was about as deserted as a desert could get, so whatever was in that bag, he was sure it couldn’t be anything edible, much less good.

Adhi: "Look, I found these not too far from here under a rock."

As he opened the mouth of the bag, Viktor and Kiseki both screamed, although in entirely different tones.

Viktor: "SCORPIONS!?"

Kiseki: "Yay! Scorpions!"

Viktor: "What are you so happy about idiot?! They are poisonous!"

Kiseki: "No, silly! They are venomous, not poisonous!"

Adhi: "Righ, but don’t worry; I chewed their stingers off."

For a moment, the knight’s expression was totally deadpan.

Viktor: "… What are you, a freakin’ mongoose!?"

Kiseki: "One for me, one for Adhi. One for me, one for Vikki. One for me, one for…"

Viktor: "Stop dividing them on your own accord!"

Adhi: "I have to agree with him on this one. I found them, so I want the big ones!"

Kiseki: "Awww! You are mean!"

Viktor: "… You know what? You can halve those scorpions between you two, I’ll go to sleep."

Kiseki:"Huh? Halving them?"

The annoying mercenary duo looked at each other and then the man raised a fist only to immediately drop it into his palm with a quiet ‘poof’.

Adhi: "An absolutely marvelous idea! If we are cutting each one into two equal parts, we both get an equal share!"

Kiseki: "Kihihi! Thanks for the idea Vikki! You totally saved us from starving!"

The knight could only stare skeptically at the giggling woman and her mate before he let his shoulders droop in defeat.

Viktor: "You do realize that we still have two weeks’ worth of food rations, do you?"

Adhi: "Mmm… It’s good, just a little raw…"

After another flat glance Viktor promptly threw his hands into the air, turned around and headed for the group of Type-Os huddled together nearby.

Viktor: "… You know what, forget I said anything. If you need me, I’ll be over there, crying myself to sleep."

Adhi: "G’night."

Kiseki: "Have some sweet dreams."

And so, the knight slipped into his bedroll while the other two kept on chewing the raw arthropods…

~~~

There were three, measured knocks that echoed dully on the wooden door leading to the inner sanctum of the cathedral. After a moment of silence a nonchalant voice answered from the other side.

Cassandra: "Yeah? It’s open, come in."

Saberger: "Excuse me."

As the cardinal slowly opened the wooden door and peeked through the crack he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.

Saberger: "Cassandra… What are you doing?"

Cassandra: "Oh, it’s you? Great. Help me, would you?"

The inner sanctum was one of the very few places where they afforded the usage of artificial light, but Saberger couldn’t help but find that it was completely wasted on this girl. The place was a mess, with strands of cloth and tools lying all around in utter chaos, completely unbefitting for this place.

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Saberger: "You still didn’t answer. What are you doing?"

The girl puffed up her cheeks as she looked back at the cardinal from the corner, all the while she was still battling with a huge pile of various colored cloths.

Cassandra: "Isn’t it obvious? I’m sewing."

Saberger: "You are… sewing?" Saberger repeated after her with a skeptical voice.

Cassandra: "Yeah, gothic outfits don’t grow on trees, idiot!" The prelate didn’t react, so the girl promptly rolled her eyes and gestured towards him. "Don’t just stand there with that stupid look on your face, help me with this!"

After a few moments of hesitation, the cardinal finally sighed and closed the door behind himself.

Saberger: "Fine, what do you want me to do?"

Cassandra: "The room."

Saberger: "… I told you I’m not your maid."

Cassandra: "Come on, you said you would help!"

They looked each other in the eye for a long seconds, but at last the cardinal sighed and slightly shook his head in disapproval, thought it was hard to tell the target of his gesture.

Saberger: "Whatever."

Finally given up, he reached for the pile of cloths the girl was keeping from toppling over, and started folding them with mechanical precision. After just a few minutes of this menial work the pile has all but disappeared, only to be replaced by small wall of outfits. As he kept folding absentmindedly, the original purpose of his visit suddenly came to mind.

Saberger: "Say Cas-…"

Cassandra: "Wait, I just remembered something! I’ll be back in a moment!"

Saying so, the girl suddenly stormed out of the hall before he could even finish what he wanted to say. Her quarters were hidden behind the inner sanctum, which in retrospect made the notion of her sewing here instead of in her own room even more baffling. As he was just about to finish up the last piece of cloth and reached for the scattered tools, the door opened once again as Cassandra moved in.

Cassandra: "Ta-dah! What do you think?"

At first, the cardinal couldn’t find the words. The girl in front of him was dressed in an overly elaborate black dress. The fabric was thin but not to the point of being transparent and it stuck to the contours of her upper body very tightly. It also had a vertically striped corset and a wide skirt covered in frills and ribbons as well as a small black-and-white bonnet with a fake red rose on in. It was an outfit that strangely fit her.

Saberger: "What exactly is this?"

The girl’s grin immediately withered and got replaced by a pout.

Cassandra: "Are you telling me you can’t even remember?" After Saberger shook his head she let out an irritated groan and pointed at herself. "Come on! Gothic Lolita! You were the one who recommended it!"

Saberger: "Was I?"

Cassandra: "Yes! How is it?"

Saberger: "… It’s good, I suppose."

Cassandra: "Awww, come on! Answer seriously!"

For a long second the cardinal wondered just what she wanted to hear. At last she took another look at the clothes.

Saberger: "I don’t know how it is supposed to look like, but I think it fits you, and it’s obviously well-made. I’m actually surprised that you could make something like this on your own."

The girl puffed her cheeks once again.

Cassandra: "Hey, I’m locked up in this place all the time; I had to find a hobby! I can’t spend all my time reading books and holding audiences with boring scholars."

Saberger had to give her this one. As the voice of Nov’Elsfaan and the Golden Oracle, holder of titles that are handed down only to the most fitting candidates generation after generation, she was one of the pivotal figures of the order. It gave her privileges that no other girl of her age could dream of, but with them came equally huge responsibilities as well. She had all of the Order’s resources at her disposal, but she could never ever leave the premises of the inner sanctum. She was, without even speaking figuratively, a prisoner of her own authority. He would be lying to himself if he said he never felt at least a little pity for her, but he also knew that her role was the most important in this grand play. As such, he only slightly nodded to her latest complaint, without showing any emotion.

Saberger: "True. Now about the thing I wanted to ask…"

Cassandra: "No asking yet! First help me with these clothes!"

Saberger: "What now?"

Cassandra: "I’m not done with them, you know? This is just the prototype! Do you think I should add more frills here? And how about the hem of the skirt? Should I add some golden threading to it, or would it be too flashy?"

Saberger: "… I think it’s good the way it is."

Cassandra: "What are you talking about? It’s far from done!"

Saberger: "Isn’t it good enough?"

Cassandra: "Good enough? Where’s the ambition in that?!"

Saberger: "Ambition…?"

This was one word that hadn’t mattered for the cardinal since he first heard the truth behind the Reckoning War and the grand Plan. Ambition had no place in the play; it was clear since the very beginning.

Cassandra: "… Hey, what’s the matter?" His train of thought was interrupted by a rare sign of concern in the girl’s voice. "You have been all gloomy ever since you came by. Did something happen?"

He felt pathetic at this moment. Just how depressed must he have looked if even his self-absorbed charge would take note of it?

Saberger: "Nothing in particular."

Cassandra: "Then why did you come here?" While asking so, the girl peeled herself out of her dress. She was only wearing a simple underwear under it, but neither of them seemed to mind. "You wanted to ask something, right? Did something come up concerning the predictions?"

Saberger: "No, I told you nothing happened. It’s just that I wanted to ask you again about the coming Event."

Cassandra took another dress from the pile and pulled it over her head, only stopping for a moment when she heard the word ‘Event’.

Cassandra: "Oh, I see. You are worried about what’s going to happen, right?" Saying so she pulled the dress over herself and walked over to her throne. "Don’t worry, everything was planned out perfectly, nothing will go wrong."

Saberger: "If I recall, the same was said three hundred years ago."

Cassandra: "Yes, but this time we were told things would be different, right?"

The girl’s mischievous smile, coupled with those words, immediately reminded him of the message from the Third they received not so long ago. And yet, it didn’t fill him with confidence at all.

Saberger: "You say that, but I still feel uneasy about this."

The girl looked over him with a difficult expression. Normally he would never even try to talk about serious matters with her, beyond the obvious need of her predictions. This time it was different. His uneasiness was caused by something that only the two of them knew about within the walls of this building… No, actually, they were quite possibly the only ones on this whole continent who knew this particular secret. As he was still trying to find his words, the girl ungracefully sat on the pedestal in the middle of the hall.

Cassandra: "Come, let’s talk about it."

Her voice seemed just a little bit more mature than usual, but it hardly eased the cardinal’s mind. Still, this was the main reason he came here on the first place, to talk with the only person he could talk to about the issue, so he took his place next to the girl. The strange pair sat beside each other in silence for a few moments, until a simple question left the cardinal’s mouth.

Saberger: "Say, Cassandra… Are we doing the right thing?"

Hearing these words, the girl raised an eyebrow.

Cassandra: "You are having doubts now of all times?"

Saberger: "Doubts? Maybe…"

Cassandra: "You are not serious, are you?"

The cardinal took a deep breath before answering, collecting his thoughts.

Saberger: "Do you remember the time I was installed as the cardinal of this region?"

Cassandra: "Errr… Can’t really, it was a long time ago."

The priest smiled slightly at her thoughtful expression before he continued.

Saberger: "It was more of a rhetorical question, actually. You see, back then I was different. I wanted to change the world; I had such great hopes and ambitions. Back then, when I was commissioned here, I was determined to do my best for the glory of Nov’Elsfaan … as well as my own. I remember how excited I was about the prospect of leading my own division and how I would turn this branch of the order into something great…"

The girl was really surprised by the nostalgia seeping through the words of the usually stern cardinal. She couldn’t remember the last time he was so earnest in front of her and she was completely entranced by his words.

Saberger: "… I remember when I arrived here, I gave a huge speech to the men stationed here about how it was our duty to rebuild this world, and that bringing advancement to this backwater region is no less important than the restoration of the cities around the ocean shores or the recovery of the great cities of Europe and America. I had such a great applause back then, even though nothing came of it…"

For the first time, something bitter mixed into the nostalgic tone of the man’s voice.

Saberger: "… And then, I’ve heard the secret. That I cannot do what I want, that I have to act upon the script of the play in every instance, that my hands are tied behind my back and my choices are actually not my own… And yet, I believed in it. I trusted the play, I trusted the Oracles’ predictions, I trusted that everything was for the greater good. But…"

At this point, his voice became completely bitter and almost painful to listen to.

Saberger: "But now, I don’t know. I have been a puppet of the play for all this time, I was nothing more than a stage-hand whose every action is guided by the destiny someone else decided upon. Now, that the final act is so close, I can’t help but wonder; was it worth it? Couldn’t I have done more if I followed my own decisions? Was it all right to give up my freedom of choice for a safe outcome? And what will happen with me after the end, when my role will be unnecessary?"

These questions have been tormenting him from the inside since the very first day he entered the doors of this inner sanctum so many years ago, so it was only fitting that he gave them voice within these same walls. As he finished, his mind was still as uneasy as before, but her heart felt a little lighter.

The girl kept quiet for a few moments before she spoke up, as if she was waiting for the last echoes of his questions to fade into the silence of the night.

Cassandra: "You are wrong."

Her words were simple, yet harsh beyond belief.

Saberger: "Are you saying that it’s wrong to question such things?"

Cassandra: "No, I’m saying that you are wrong in assuming that you gave up your freedom of choice." The girl quietly stood up and moved in front of him. "You are misunderstanding something. You are not a puppet, not even a stage hand in some play. You had your choices all along. You were the one who decided to follow my advices, to follow the plan. Your destiny, it’s not guided by anyone but you. In fact, you are the one who is guiding the destiny of others. Your subordinates, the people of this region, even people on the other end of the world. You are not a puppet; you became one of the puppeteers a long time ago."

Saberger: "But was it right?"

Cassandra: "We are on the right."

They weren’t big words, yet the determination behind them filled the cardinal with awe. She didn’t waver, but simply stated something that seemed obvious: -We are right.-

Cassandra: "Look around for a second. Look how far the world has come since the Devastation. It was all thanks to us, the ones who are guiding this world, and everyone else who did their best. I know, I’ve read all the notes of the previous Oracles, and they never had any doubt about their role. Don’t question yourself at this point. If I tell you we are on the right, you have to believe me, as I’m speaking the will of my predecessors as well."

For a few moments, they silently stared at each other.

Saberger: "You know…" Finally, as he broke the silence, the cardinal’s lips slightly curved. "… you are not half that bad at giving inspirational speeches."

The girl enthusiastically grinned back at him.

Cassandra: "Hey, it’s part of my job! Hehehe…"

The cardinal let out a small sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

Saberger: "But one questions still remains: what is going to happen to us, to the Order, once the Plan reaches fruition?"

Cassandra: "I have no idea. We are following the script to the letter this far, and the final act could come at any moment by now. I say we trust -them- to do things properly this time around."

Saberger’s gaze slowly returned to the girl’s figure in front of him, and for the first time in years, he smiled at her.

Saberger: "I guess I have no choice but to believe."

The girl earnestly nodded at him and whirled around.

Cassandra: "Now that we are done with the serious stuff, help me with the clothes!"

He was taken aback for a moment, but then he let out a stifled, boyish chuckle that suddenly made him look a decade younger.

Saberger: "Sure, why not?"

As he too stood up and looked over the spoiled oracle energetically jumping all around him, he felt something he never experienced in years. A moment of peace.

~~~

Adhi: "Psst! Vikki!"

Viktor: "Uh…? Wha…?"

Adhi: "Wake up, we need your help."

Viktor: "What? Are we under attack?!"

After shaking out the last remnants of slumber from his eyes, the knight jumped onto his feet and readied the control rod of the Type-Os, but instead of an enemy ambush, all he found was a small, beeping machine pushed into his face.

Kiseki: "What is the problem of this thing? We can’t turn it off!"

Viktor: "… You seriously woke me up… because of… this?!?!"

Adhi: "Yeah, please turn it off. We can’t sleep while it’s beeping like that."

Viktor: "Argh…"

The knight snatched the small machine from Adhi’s outstretched hand and was just about to smash it to the ground when his arm froze in mid-motion.

Viktor: "Is this…? The radiation detector is reading something?"

Kiseki: "Radiation? You mean, like, nuclear radiation?"

Viktor: "This device is linked to a satellite which records the…"

Adhi: "Nuclear radiation? Like the one that gives people superpowers?"

Viktor: "… radiation levels of this area and…"

Kiseki: "Superpowers? Like when you get bitten by a radioactive spider?"

Viktor: "… sends signals to this device if… …"

Adhi: "Yeah! Wouldn’t it be awesome if we were bitten by something like that?"

Viktor: "…"

Kiseki: "Dibs on the scorpions!"

Viktor: "… …"

Adhi: "Awww! But there is nothing else around here! Just scorpions and camels!"

Viktor: "… … …"

Kiseki: "Kihihi! Camel-Man!"

Viktor: "… … … …"

Adhi: "I don’t know, what superpowers would a camel give? I don’t want to be a superhero whose only power is not drinking in the desert!"

Viktor: "… … … … …"

Kiseki: "Kihihihi! But it would be cute! And you could carry me on your back and…"

Viktor: "I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT HERE!!!"

The mercenary couple theatrically reeled back and gasped in unison.

Adhi: "Oh, we almost forgot about you. Sorry…"

Viktor: "Well, as long as…"

Kiseki: "But there is no other radioactive animal around here… Wait, you could become Sandman!"

Viktor: "That’s already taken and… No! This is not what we have to talk about! (Dammit, don’t let them drag you into their own pace!)" Seeing that the two had paused for a moment, Viktor cleared his throat and pointed at their left. "Long story short, this device here says our target should be somewhere in that direction. We have to get there ASAP."

Kiseki: "But it’s midnight…"

The knight took a deep breath, grit his teeth and spoke up in a threatening hiss.

Viktor: "Listen, you are mercenaries, right? Your job is wrecking things. I am a guide. My job is getting you the right place to wreck things. We finally know the exact place to go, and I want to get it done. I’m sick of this desert, I’m sick of this job and I’m really, really sick of you two, so we are going NOW, understood?"

The two of them glanced at each other and then reluctantly nodded.

Viktor: "Fine. Now let’s get going!"

With a swing of the control rod, the Type-Os all rose and started moving. Without further ado Viktor climbed onto the shoulders of the closest pitch-black giant and gestured for the grumbling mercenaries to follow. After they all braced themselves on the backs of their monstrous rides the knight let out a sharp whistle and the Type-Os lowered themselves in unison, then a moment later they all dashed forward with a strange but effective gait, quickly accelerating to the speed of a courier-horse on even ground.

They were about to fade into the desert night when Viktor noticed that Kiseki was missing from the back of her Type-O. He was just about to curse and halt their advance when he noticed a fluttering white dress at his side. He blinked once, twice, thrice, but she was still there, and still casually keeping up with the charging monstrosities. At last she closed the distance and yelled up to him.

Kiseki: "Vikki! We forgot to tell you something important!"

Viktor: "Wha… What?!" He yelled back, still confused by the scene in front of his eyes.

Kiseki: "We decided that we would become the Scorpion-couple. Do you want to be Camelman or Sandman?"

Viktor: "…"

Viktor stared at the woman for a good five second with a blank expression, then his mouth opened to a scream reminiscent of millions of brain cells suddenly crying out in terror and then suddenly silenced.