The Church branch was located at the edge of the city, hidden among abandoned fields and broken homes. They preferred their secrecy when it concerned the knowledge they possessed. It was to prevent them from falling into the wrong hands. Layman had no use for them, but the enemies of humanity would be able to wreak havoc with what could be discerned.
Rana continued down a neglected path, bits of wood and stone remained scattered to the side of crushed roots and sickly dirt. The unceasing rain in the morning were now muddy puddles that reflected the grey night sky.
To wander near Church grounds was suspicious already, let alone in the dead of the night. People avoided those who had business with the Church and would warn others to do the same.
Rana was dressed as if she didn't want any attention, yet that was the most suspicious act of them all. No one cared for the brazen, it was the rats they were wary of. Unfortunately, she had no choice in the matter. Her clothing concealed a truth that was far worse than business with the Church.
Rana stood before an unguarded building and it was just as she feared. The branch was abandoned. It made sense. Stallhorn was a city with little worth to the kingdom, and a branch barely maintained one hundred years ago would not be able to last that until now. It made her entry easier, as she only had to deal with the wards, but depending on when the branch was abandoned, there was a chance the information she wanted would not be complete.
The door to the building was not chained nor was the surrounding fenced off. However, Rana knew that if the Church decided to abandon a branch, they barred everyone but people in the highest of positions from entering. She knew that wards were placed, and as she called upon her mana, she was proven to be correct.
The wards were placed in the soil and the area it circled was a field bound by rules. Without proper authorization, a person could walk forever and would still be unable to reach the door. It was possible to brute force the ward, but then the contingency would trigger. The building, and everything within, would be burned to ashes. If Rana was unlucky, she would suffer the same fate.
Rana stepped forward. Regardless of what she needed to do next, without experiencing the spell herself, deciphering it would be impossible.
Rana found herself before the door.
It was odd. Did the Church lower their strict policy and allowed marked ones to enter the library as well, or was Rana somehow connected to the Church? If she hadn’t known about the time she slept, her answer would be immediate. However, with the information that a century had passed, any conclusion she drew from this instance would not be accurate.
Rana opened the door and stood still for a moment. The windows were sealed and the magic within lighting stones faded long ago. It was like an abyss that she might not return from. There was a chance that whatever knowledge she gained here, would forever alter the path she would travel. She took a deep breath and gathered mana into her palm, the silver light within illuminated her way. She was not comfortable with expending mana for light, going into darkness with her own power, but she had to.
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She entered the office of the branch director and examined the documents, the dated times confirmed the innkeeper's words. The fading ink and dim light made it difficult to discern the exact dates, it was clear they were written during the seventh ascension.
When a king ascends to the throne, they no longer remain who they were. They became a vessel that channelled the authority of the One Deity, and for one hundred years they would reign. They powered divine decrees, judgments, and most importantly, the heart of the throne. When the king’s reign came to an end, they passed on their responsibilities to the next candidate along with the power they accumulated. The cycle then would start once again, unstopped until humanity perished.
Rana knew she was born during the sixth ascension. She also knew of the ceremonial rituals during ascension, it’s rules and procedures. The king was crowned the moment the previous one passed away, but it took years before they were fully accepted by the throne. That was when the ceremony was held. The king’s light would expand across the sky, proclaiming their ascension. She knew of the sixth king’s light. She not only knew of the color but also of the shape and mark. She had to be there to know.
Rana slept for a century.
Rana pinched the bridge of her nose. It was too much. She ignored the throbbing ache in her mind and sat down in front of the a desk. She began to scan through documents and search drawers. She eventually found what she was looking for, the logbook. She turned the pages, and with every flip of a page her frown deepened.
The logs made no sense. Rather, she could not make any sense out of it. Church resources and personnel were being diverted as if the entire kingdom was fractured. This was impossible, divine decrees were absolute and judgment once passed could not be stopped. It was the rule of the world and humans were incapable of going against them. Yet the truth was before her. The Church was not distributing resources, they were trying to reclaim them, to defend them against threats from both men and monsters.
The kingdom was in danger. She had to know what it was, to know what happened.
Rana decided to leave, for now. She stayed for too long and she needed a place to gather her thoughts, to understand what she learned. She knew the truth would soon reveal itself, but she could not do it where there was a risk of being disturbed. One puzzle was enough for tonight. She stuffed the logbook in her jacket and stood up to exit the room.
There was a shine on a shelf. She turned her attention to a book. It called to her. She walked to the shelf and reached out. The book was titled in a language she cannot read but she recognized it instantly. It was the language of the crimson moon, the language of the fiends. Her cold veins raged. There was a heretic. That was why the branch was closed. It was a cover. The traitor was using this as a storage.
The sound of mana hummed. It was new, it was silent, and it was not meant for her to know. Someone was here, and Rana was their target.