Syrin sighed as she looked upon the great doors before her, open to any who sought to enter the hallowed halls. The light of Xal was dimming now, the avatar dipping below the Keep framing her home in his heavenly glow. She entered the Twilight Cathedral, eyes searching for the High Priestess. However, such a thing turned out to be an effortless undertaking. The holy woman sat silently in the centre of the cathedral. Her head bowed in reverence before the symbol of Twilight.
The Lady of Wrath debated interrupting the High Priestess, before discarding the idea, choosing to kneel beside her instead. Eyes fluttering shut beside the holy woman Syrin whispered her devotion to the gods into the air, along with a thousand thoughts besides.
Prayers of thanks, for their assistance in her pursuit of becoming the new Lady of Wrath. Prayers of guidance, that she may lead the many Clans to fortune and victory. Prayers of fertility, that she may be endowed with a child and heir to her new house. Prayers of protection, that her people would endure the storm that was to come. Finally, Prayers of strength, that she would have the resolve to march ever onward in these trying times.
When the young ruler opened her eyes it was to the symbol of twilight glinting in torchlight. A poor substitute for the light of Xal, but a beautiful image all the same. The sound of shifting fabric caused the sovereign to look away from the holy symbol. Sighing, Syrin rose, turning to the now attentive High Priestess.
“A pleasure, Lady Syrin.” Daria curtsied respectfully to the younger lady.
“A pleasure, High Priestess Daria.” Syrin nodded back to the leader of the Twilight Church.
“To you and yours as well, Lord Commander.” The servant of Twilight nodded behind her monarch, to no reply.
“Oh, I wasn’t aware you could detect the Sentinels as my husband can?” The Lady of One Thousand blinked in surprise.
“Why, I can do no such thing,” Daria giggled at her ruler’s stupefaction. “Yet it is well understood that the Lords and Ladies of Wrath are seldom without their ever watchful eyes.”
Syrin inwardly reprimanded herself, annoyed at being so easily strung along. The pale woman shook her head, taking a seat at one of the many pews silently. The form of the High Priestess joined her a heartbeat later. They sat there silently for a moment, one collecting their thoughts, the other interested as to the reasoning for this visit. Contemplating a great many things beneath the emblem of Twilight the High Priestess spoke first.
“You are troubled.” Daria declared, rather than asked.
“By a great many things, yes,” Syrin acknowledged willingly. “However I’ve not come here to air my grievances to you, holy one.”
“Oh, well then, I am ever at the service of the House of Wrath.” The elder woman hummed a simple tune, at ease.
“I would ask what your dealings are within the larger Shattered Isles.” The ruler spoke plainly, eyeing the woman beside her.
“Your cousin is concerned, is he,” Daria looked towards the symbol of her church before her gaze fell to Syrin once again. “Ever watchful that one, he ought to have become a Sentinel, don’t you think so Rizal?”
If Rizal, or any Sentinels he had undoubtedly brought with him, had any thoughts on the matter he did not speak them aloud. To neither of the women’s shock, after all, he was a man of few remarks at the best of times. Doubly so when he was on an assignment for his Lord, as he was now.
“He’s no fun, so cruel to his old friend.” Daria snorted, amused at the man’s persistent silence.
“He does take his obligations rather seriously, perhaps later when he is not on duty.” Syrin smiled fondly at the woman’s continued needling of her unseen guardian, reminded of her cousin.
“To answer your question,” Daria placed her hands on her heart, twin moons on display, to convey her sincerity. “I do as I have always done, as my ancestors have always done, spreading the power of the Church of Twilight and nothing more.”
“Yet you send Paladins out to deal with lesser beings without support nor report,” Syrin noted, tone even but probing. “Why is it I am learning of this deployment from my kin and not yourself?”
“Why, my dear, the deployment of the Knight Paladins to spread the will of the Divine is nothing of note,” A fan appeared in the holy woman’s hands waving lazily. “If I were to send a report every time one of my warriors sallied out to do so, your poor Lord Husband would be buried beneath the parchment.”
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“That may be true of the day-to-day working of the church,” The Lady of Wrath spoke evenly. “However, the deployment of Nightbane and his troops is no simple missionary work and House Righteousness has not officially declared its intentions.”
There was a pause then, the first true break in the High Priestesses mask of serene calm. Syrin could not see the face of the woman behind her mask, but she knew the Lady of Righteousness had been caught off guard. The fan that had been lazily waving back and forth stilled, before being closed entirely.
“That cousin of yours is good at what he does, or perhaps the Lord Admiral of the fleet is far more interested in me than he should be,” The symbol of Xal upon the High Priestess' mask turned towards Syrin, the eyes beneath the veneer digging for unstated information. “House Righteousness and Clan Justice have taken an interest in the region, yes.” The woman’s slender fingers folded on her lap.
“That is what has caused alarm in my kin, as well as a few others,” Syrin expressed adamantly. “Not to mention the deployment of Nightbane, who isn’t exactly known for his skills in diplomacy.” Shadows danced in the torchlight, reacting to the pale woman’s agitation.
“...It would seem I have overstepped, my Lady,” Daria spoke in a low and remorseful tone. “But all I have spoken is truth, I act to further the will of the Divine.” She spoke sincerely, placing her hands upon her heart once again.
“Then why such secrecy,” The younger woman wondered audibly. “Surely you did not think we would stand against you if your actions were in pursuit of holy will?”
“No, it…” The elder of the two paused, assembling her thoughts. “My pursuits are of an altogether more personal nature, of lost relics and lost knowledge.”
“Relics and knowledge…” Syrin frowned, perplexed at the words. “I fail to see why that would require secrecy on your part.” She admitted, leaning back in her seat.
“It…is a sensitive matter, one that may cause alarm should it spread.” Shaking her head the taller woman sighed, opening her fan once more to air herself.
“Please tell me someone has not stolen one of the relics of the Twilight Vault.” Syrin pleaded, eyes shut tightly in prayer.
“Even I would be executed for concealing such a folly, I would think.” Daria laughed mirthlessly at that, “No, nothing quite so dramatic, this is a relic taken during the second age.”
A relieved breath, one that she had not known she was holding, left the Lady of Wrath. The Vaults of Twilight held relics of truly devastating power. Thus they were guarded at all times in a dimensional rift. In the wrong hands, many of said relics could cause untold devastation to the world. One needed only to look at the current state of the shattered isles to see proof of that. It was good that the situation was not quite that dire, yet the question remained as to what the High Priestess was hiding.
“What then, has you of all people acting in such a way,” Syrin pressed the woman. “If you don’t mind my saying, it is not like you to keep secrets, you are much more the type to cry your intentions from the top of spires.” Bell-like laughter escaped the masked woman beside her at the words.
“Well yes, I suppose I do get rather into my sermons and declarations,” She spoke, fighting back her mirth. “A relic of a Saint has been detected within the territory of Jesley, one they should not possess, I however do not know the reason as to its awakening.”
Syrin sighed at the words, a hand coming up to rub at the bridge of her nose. She could already feel the headache coming from such an implication. It now made far too much sense why the High Priestess had taken to secrecy rather than declaring her intentions. The presence of a Saintly Relic was nothing to take lightly. A Saint’s relic was ineffective and inert when handled by any but a Saint, though it did have latent properties against the unholy. Normally, such relics were handled by the church, in preparation for its reactivation should a new Saint arise. Either a Saint had been killed in the territory and the relic stolen. Which was unlikely in the extreme, considering how powerful even a single Saint was. Or, perhaps even more problematic, a new Saint had been named within the Jesley Diarchy and the holy item had begun to surge in power. Both situations could cause severe complications for various reasons. Not only with the Twilight Church and its followers but the Churches of Dawn and Dusk as well.
“Your measures were prudent, High Priestess,” Syrin spoke after a while of lamenting her place in the world. “However, I would have you work with the High Admiral in this matter.” She ordered the older woman firmly.
“That spawn of Misery i-” Daria prevented herself from finishing the thought aloud. “I object to this my Lady, the Lord of Misery’s faith is not adequate to be included in such a holy task.” The fan within the holy woman’s grasp snapped under the pressure placed upon it.
“Regardless, you will work with him all the same,” Syrin proclaimed with finality in her voice. “His assistance will be of great use to you in this endeavour.” The implication that he would also keep an eye on her forces went unspoken.
House Misery and House Righteousness had been at odds for generations. It was not mistaken, in truth, to say that the only reason they had never openly declared war on each other was the positions they held within the clans. The Twilight Church and the Combined Fleet going to war with each other would not be tolerated by the more powerful clans. Such a dispute would weaken the entirety of the One Thousand and invite aggression from the other Blessed. Not to mention the lesser beings that circled the Shattered Isles like vultures. The lesser races may have been afraid to tempt the wrath of the One Thousand, but mortals were ever prone to greed, the sight of infighting on such a scale would be swiftly preyed upon.
“I, yes, my Lady.” The tone of the Lady of Righteousness was one of restrained frustration, but accepting all the same.
“Thank you, for your understanding,” Syrin stood, prompting Daria to do the same. “Besides, you may consider it an opportunity to order about the Lord Admiral during your search, that should brighten the coming days.”
“Oh yes, I would rather enjoy such a thing.” A pearl of laughter spilt from the tall woman’s lips at the thought and she seemed to almost glow at the idea of it.