Petyo's quiet steps were lost in the vastness of the cathedral's walls. His dark robes melted into the gloom, which was only driven out by the silver of moonlight filtering through the stained glass: a demonstration of mother Periphia guarding humanity under her wings, brittle and translucent wings that could break with the softest breeze.
His hand caressed the back of the wooden benches by his side, a lonely shadow following his feet as he advanced towards the staircase at the end of his path.
Far from the assassin, a lonely man stood atop the altar with his back turned to Petyo and his eyes gazing up to the leadlight. He wore a long gown that touched the ground, and his hairs were gray and in great chaos, covered by a priest's perhath above his head. He held his hands behind his back and wore a smile on his dark face, a smile that had formed out of contemplation for Periphia's beauty in the picture above his eyes.
Petyo didn't waste words to declare his arrival. That man knew of his presence, that was clear. Instead, the black-robed assassin knelt and lowered his head, waiting for the elder one's attention to be laid over him. He meditated on his actions as he waited, carefully going over everything he needed to report and the words he would use to be concise.
"Cough... Cough..."
A pair of dry coughs echoed in the church, produced by the throat of the man on the altar. It was only a couple at first, a routine for the man who very usually needed to clear his throat. It soon became a coughing fit. Ten, twenty spams, unstopped coughs extended through a long minute in which Petyo couldn't help or move, in fear that the man would take it as being pitied.
"Cough...! Ah...!" The man covered his mouth. "Haaa. What a delightful inconvenience."
"I present myself in front of you, honored skyblessed." Petyo declared with a certain strength to his voice. "I am glad to see you're doing well."
The man scoffed lightly. "Well, you say... Yes, I'm doing well, I think." The man scratched his chin and arched his lip. "That doesn't matter, Lothar. Can you tell me how are things going?"
"Yes." Petyo stood up and placed his hands behind his back. "Valta Lockhart has been dealt with as you instructed. It wasn't too many hours ago. Miel Alleeba does not know. The duke of Pontya is dead, and I personally took care of his descendants. The following on the line of inheritance is Miel Alleeba himself. This is where your dealings with him end, master."
"Is that so...? I guess it is. Whatever happens with Kulkus or any other place is not exactly something we care for, hmm." The man formerly addressed as a skyblessed closed his eyes and delved into thought. "I am not good in politics, after all. I'm much more involved in the action of it all. Don't you agree?"
"I think your honor would be good at whatever he proposes himself to be." Petyo answered quickly and without hesitation.
"Ha... Is that so? Cough! cough! Ah... That's a lot of trust to bear with." He finally turned around to meet Petyo's gaze, showing a face obscured by the night. His olive skin hid between locks of silver hair, which did not manage to cover his deep-blue eyes and his sickly mien. "I am good at what I'm good at. That's how it is."
"Certainly so." The assassin nodded.
"Enough of that." He sighed. "Are you positive that Valta Lockhart will not die in her current status?"
"Miel ordered me to use a strong paralyzing agent that would eventually stop her heart. However, I deluded the contents enough that she will not die unless she suffers from severe diseases. I made sure to check she didn't beforehand in her military registry."
"Good... Cough, cough... Uch!" The man covered his mouth, sniffed and cleaned his face. "Hngh. She's bound to find Thom Arburson inside that forest at some point then, is she not?"
"I think she should be."
"Good... They should both hold on for a little longer then. That man is too interesting not to observe closely, dear Lothar." He chuckled. "It's not usual for humans to stay in a different plane for so long and not find themselves swallowed by it. Of course, my honored father would kill me if he found out about this... But that Thom Arburson is quite a specimen to keep around. Someone that conquered my niece's heart and tried to fight me for it... Then traveled all the way to our plane in order to save her. Cough, uck..."
"He has not been actively searching for her. I do not see a reason to keep him alive, honored master, with all due respect."
"Blah." The skyblessed scoffed and sat on the altar. "After our first assassination attempt on him failed, I knew for a fact that it would be interesting to follow him. Now he's got all bossy around my goblins, even. I told them some asinine shit as a joke, but now that they've got that man on their side, those dirty things may actually do it! Miel's gonna have a hard first year as a duke."
"Miel Alleeba failed to end Thom Arburson's life as well because of his naive ambition." Petyo lowered his head and closed his eyes. "I can help you take care of him if you desire. He takes everything I say at face value."
"Lothar, boy. I have told you before that the skyblessed do not meddle in the affairs of kingdoms."
"Yes! My sincerest apology!" Petyo knelt back on the floor and lowered his head even further. It seemed as if he had taken his master's rebuke as a harsh scold that could only be followed by punishment.
"Ah... You don't need to kneel." The skyblessed waved his hand away. "Just keep me informed and follow Miel's asspull ideology for the moment. My experiments in this region will be over soon anyway, so we'll return to the temple in a few months. Of course, that doesn't mean we'll return and leave that immense hazard running around our plane. I'm preparing a fun boy to end Thom Arburson's career before he gets back his sense of heroism and tries to steal the sky's heart again."
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"Do you think such a thing can happen?"
"Let's say I'm split on it." The elder one smiled and crossed his arms. "I can't take too many risks, however. He won't see another summer, at least I'm sure of that much."
"Yes, honored master." Petyo nodded. "I will remain under Miel Alleeba's service until you need to depart. I will see you again next week, then—"
"Wait." The skyblessed stood up and signaled towards one of the benches. Petyo quickly got the message and dashed towards the benches, then prostrated himself as if he was praying to the goddess in the glass.
The skyblessed accommodated his robes and put on his freshest smile. With a move of his finger, a gold-plated crosier flew towards his hand and he tightly grasped it, putting his other hand in front of his chest.
His sight was set on the church's tall twin doors, from where a presence was flickering. One of the doors was pushed open with seemingly great effort, and someone tripped inside with a few steps. The presence was immediately recognizable to the skyblessed, so he relaxed his smile a little, but lowered his hand's grasp to the proper height in which he should be holding a holy symbol of the Periphian church.
The man who had just entered closed the door behind him, and started his elegant walk towards the altar. The man was also carrying a rod in his hand, similar to the one used by the priest in charge of the cathedral. When he was a proper distance away, the skyblessed greeted him.
"Araba, brother. Although it is you who I expect it from the most, it is still strange that a citizen enters the sanctum this late into the night."
"My apologies, master." The blond man bowed his head slightly and showed a beaming smile, the one he always wore no matter the situation. "There is something urgent I wish to attend to. I don't think I'm the only one."
He stole a glance at Petyo who was kneeling not too far from him. Araba's eyes turned to sharp daggers for a fraction of a second, but quickly returned to the altar and warmed up when he saw the image of the goddess.
"Is it about the assassination of the duke? Petyo has told me before. Truly a nefarious deed..."
"That's right." Araba said with a tired expression, a wry smile that accentuated the bags under his eyes. "I cannot believe it was Miss Valta who did something like this..."
The cleric took a seat in one of the benches and laid the rod by his side. He took off the perhath over his head, which was smaller than the priest's, and sighed in relief. It seemed like he was sweating cold, even in the midst of winter.
There was an awkward silence in the church as Araba closed his eyes and muttered his prayers to Periphia. Since this was a regular occurrence, neither Petyo nor the priest said anything. They simply awaited for his departure.
When Araba opened his eyes again, he looked at his left to find that Petyo was also praying. He offered a warm smile with no particular meaning, although the assassin wouldn't see him. Then, he turned his eyes to the man on the altar.
"It is tiring." Araba said. "Attending to a greedy general's command, I mean." His smile looked bitter as he spoke.
"It is understandable that you feel that way, brother. However, it is also understandable that the general has asked of your assistance. I imagine Miel must be... Heartbroken by the sudden death of his family."
"Miel?" Araba said, cleaning his forehead from the stickiness of sweat. "A man so prideful wouldn't allow others to see anything else but a somber face. Besides... I wouldn't cry over milk I spilled myself."
"Oh?" The skyblessed feigned ignorance and gave Araba a smile. "Those are some heavy words."
"Heavy... But true. This is how politics work." Araba laid back on the bench and looked up at the church's ceiling. "I was the one in charge of determining the cause of death... They called me shortly after the assasination. I had just arrived from a clerical mission too... It seems that's all I do these days."
"What was it?"
"The duke was killed by Valta. I didn't have to check twice. An arrow from so far... That woman is truly scary." He raised his eyebrows. "And the others, their throats were sliced. Two young women, one boy, Miel's father, Miel's siblings, and another sister of the duke. Hmm. Miel said the assassins also tried to kill him, but he killed them first. He showed us four people's corpses as proof, their blood splattered all over his room. They were buried in shallow graves outside of the city."
"What about the noble family's corpses? I don't pretend to meddle in foreign matters, but this also concerns me as the head priest of Pontya. I may be leading the wake tomorrow and later be the one to bid them farewell in burial."
Araba nodded to the priest's statement. "Hmm. I sanctified the corpses and cast the holy rite. They shouldn't rot for the next few days... But I don't think that's necessary. I almost even denied hanging bells from their fingers."
"A procedure is still a procedure."
"They'll be viewed tomorrow afternoon." He scoffed with a smile. "You will be informed of this in the morning by an official anyway. I didn't come here at two hours before dawn to tell you about your holy duties." Araba put back his hat.
"Did you need assistance? Psychological, I mean."
"Hmm, no, I don't think I need that." The cleric accommodated his loose strands of hair. "What I needed was... To repent. And pray for everyone that has helped Miel in this plan of his. If it was Missis Valta who did all this, then this rotten plan has been festering for a long time in this city. Funny... When it was us who were in charge of assassinating other nobles, it was just another job. But now that it's us... It just feels lonely."
Araba forgot his status for a moment. Why had the joy suddenly escaped his shining face? The skyblessed didn't know the cleric that well, but in his dealings with him, he didn't seem like the type to be mortified by the corpses he buried. Araba's eyes were those of a man that was used to seeing death, perhaps because the priest knew that he had served on several battlefields since he was just a kid. The death of a noble was no different to the death of a peasant in front of Nagur, the god of death, so why was his mood so somber?
The skyblessed felt his interest spike for a second, but it quickly subsided. He didn't have time to think of a Lord's son who had been blessed with a clerical call. Those kinds of people were counted in thousands, simply too common to stand out.
"I will be leaving." Araba said, taking his rod and standing up. "I'm sorry to leave everything to you, priest. I'll go now... But when you leave, close the door behind you."
The cleric bowed for a long handful of seconds, and didn't waste any more of them after that. He turned and walked away, towards the entrance, opened the door with great effort, and closed it on his way out. Before silence could take the church prisoner, the priest began another coughing fit. It seemed as if he was letting go of everything he had been holding up while Araba was present.
Petyo stood up from the bench and knelt in front of the altar once more. Once the priest was sniffing back his life and sighing to accommodate his throat, Petyo looked back up.
The priest hit his chest. "Huff!" He cleaned his mouth. "What a cold winter... It's not like I visit Goldblack too often, but I had not yet seen a season this cold here. It's bad for my lungs, but well, that can't be helped. I think you can return now, little Lothar. And, concerning Thom Arburson and his little group of monsters, you don't need to think about that. If things go too badly and I create an unbalance because of my irresponsibility, I will also take care of it. The boy I told you about will help me with that."
"Yes, honorable skyblessed." Petyo bowed shortly. "I pray we meet again."
"Sure."
Petyo faded into shadows and squirmed out the church, while the elder one turned his back to the door and resumed his dedicated observation of the moon.
The sky looked especially dark. The clouds of winter dimmed the light of the hesitant stars, shyly poking their heads through the mist. He smiled.
"Maybe she was right. Runa... that man is one of a kind, hmm?"