Saintslayer (Lucifae Carver, Antipriestess of Light Book 1) Chapter 6 (Patreon)

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Colorfully dressed halfling jugglers, ushers, and peddlers, along with startled fairgoers all watched in silence as Lucifae, Rindar, and Taran left the faire with Caspian, still bound in tent ropes, in tow. Lucifae flinched when after a few minutes, music and merriment resumed behind them as they walked out of sight of the faire. She willed a tiny mote of light to guide their way into the night.

Rindar resumed talking about his deck of Holybang cards, trying to explain his strategies to Taran and the basic rules to Lucifae. She did not pay much attention, and after an hour and a half she wasn’t quite sure how the game was played and she wasn’t quite sure that she cared.

Taran walked behind Caspian, focused on keeping him from escaping, even though the unusual magician made no attempts. Lucifae remained silent and thoughtful, unsure how to use the scriptures to guide her in this instance. Caspian did not utter a single word, and Lucifae was not sure if it was because he had nothing to say, or because of his bizarre magic.

It was past midnight when they stood at the edge of Defiance Square. The moon had just slipped behind the cathedral, and the ancient building cast a long shadow across the square.

Rindar turned to Lucifae. “Hey, Lucy. I’ll wait here for you to enter the cathedral with our fucky magic pal, and then I’ll go back to the faire. Sort out your stuff here and come find me for free dinner,” he said and turned to Taran. “You too, kid.”

Taran nodded and stood there, eyeing Lucifae and Caspian, unsure of what to do.

Lucifae smiled at him. “Taran, it’s very late. I believe you should either return to Harbortown, or accompany Rindar to the faire. If you come inside, the inquisitors —”

“The inquisidongs!” Rindar interrupted her and guffawed.

Taran and Caspian both chuckled, then eyed each other and straightened up.

“Rindar!” Lucifae protested, but she could not blame the orc paladin for trying to lighten the mood. “As I was saying, if you enter the cathedral, the inquisitors will probably submit you to the circle of truth and ask you to renounce the gods in isolation until the break of dawn.” She gave Taran a tiny smile.

“Well, I’m in no hurry to repeat that!” Taran said and smiled back. Reluctantly, he handed the rope that held Caspian bound to Lucifae and their fingers touched for a fleeting moment. “I… I’ll wait here with Rindar until you’re inside…” His voice trailed off.

Rindar bent down and looked Caspian straight in the eye. “Got my eyes on you. Go with Lucy and don’t even think of doing fucky magic. One weird move and I’ll run over you faster than your grandpa can fart, and there are no motherfucking wagons here to do your jumpy shit, got it?”

Caspian gulped hard and just nodded.

“Walk in the counsel of the ungodly,” Lucifae said and motioned Caspian to walk alongside her across Defiance Square, reluctant to yank the rope and harm his dignity. She maintained the tiny mote of light in her hand, knowing that Caspian’s human eyes could not pierce the dark like hers.

After a few steps, Caspian turned to her. “Sooo, the armored orc is Rindar, the guy with the spear is Taran, and you’re Lucy, right?” he asked nonchalantly.

“So, you can speak again, or were you pretending all along?” She clutched the rope tighter, ready for another outburst of unusual magic.

Caspian gave her a tired smile as she led him around the cathedral’s massive width, towards the side gate that was active that night. “I didn’t dare try to speak again until now. My magic sometimes acts up and causes weird effects that can get me in trouble like it did at the faire. If you can believe me, this was the first time illusions replaced my voice, so I had no idea what would happen if I continued and I didn’t want to provoke Rindar and Taran any further. My magic is like a hiccup; you can try to control or suppress it, but it doesn’t always work out.”

“My name is Lucifae Carver, or Lucy in the tongue of men. Why are you telling me all this, Caspian?”

“To make you understand I am no ‘godfreak’ or whatever,” he said with a tentative smile. “I’m just a guy with some magic, that’s all!”

She nodded slowly, thinking that this ordeal must have been terrifying for Caspian, whether he was driven by the warring gods or not.

They walked past a meteoric boulder embedded in the ancient cobblestone and Lucifae gasped as the side gate, less than a hundred steps away, came into view. Instead of the usual lone paladin of the Pure Mind on guard, she saw an assembly of inquisitors and clerics, all facing towards her and Caspian. Amidst tall and armored inquisitors, Lucifae made out the gaunt figure of Father Ravoam, the Elder Diviner Antipriest. Light from an inquisitor’s torch reflected on his bald head and his milk-white eyes on her and Caspian. Behind the elder, the face of a young boy stared at her with worry. It was Alric, the young apprentice that fought the cannibals alongside her just a night ago.

Caspian shivered at the sight of the masked inquisitors. “Is this good or bad?” he whispered.

Lucifae slowed down her steps. Her eyes darted at Caspian and back at the assembly. “It’s bad for you only if you’re a servant of the gods,” she said, though she was not so sure.

“Lucy… I think you know I’m no servant of the gods,” he said, visibly distressed. “So you’ll keep your promise, right?” His eyes pleaded her.

“Yes, I did not lie to you. If you’re free of divine influence, I will make sure you leave this place unharmed.” She looked him straight in the eye.

Caspian sighed again. “Before we go in, listen why I followed you at the faire,” he whispered to Lucifae. “Jilly Tossbottle, the caravan owner, sent a halfling to the cathedral to —”

“Antipriestess Carver,” Father Ravoam’s voice, calm yet commanding, echoed through the night. “Welcome back,” he said and nodded at the inquisitor holding the torch to his right. That inquisitor said something under his mask and stepped forward with six others.

Caspian froze in place the seven masked inquisitors walked towards them. “Look, everyone. I’m innocent. This is all a misunderstanding, right?” he said, eyeing Lucifae with worry as the inquisitors approached.

“In their infiniteness, the gods are puny, antipriestess,” a tall inquisitor said through his mask. “You did well. We will deal with the deviant from now on.”

“As long as there is defiance, there is a way, inquisitor. This man, Caspian, might be innocent and free of divine influence,” Lucifae said. As she spoke, two other inquisitors placed their arms on Caspian’s shoulders and a fourth inquisitor put a pair of manacles on Caspian’s wrists over Rindar’s, and another pair on his ankles.

“Noted. Walk in the counsel of the ungodly, antipriestess,” the tall inquisitor said and turned around.

Caspian shot a last, pleasing glance at Lucifae before the inquisitors turned him around and led him inside.

Lucifae stepped forward. “Wait!” she said without thinking it twice. “I mean, I would respectfully request to be present during this man’s confession.”

The nearest inquisitor just shook her head, almost imperceptibly under her mask.

“Your request is respectfully declined, antipriestess,” Father Ravoam said in loud voice, having heard her despite the tens of steps between them.

“Divination magic,”Lucifae thought and frowned.

The Elder Diviner Antipriest just shot a glance at Alric and the young boy scurried inside. Then, he motioned Lucifae closer as the inquisitors led Caspian through the side gate and into the cathedral.

“How many days are in your calendar, antipriestess?” he asked calmly, a tiny smile on his wrinkled face.

“There are two days in my calendar: this day, and the day the gods are defeated, Father,” she replied coldly. She remained alone with Father Ravoam and an unmoving paladin of the Pure Mind in front of the side gate.

“You achieved something remarkable tonight,” the elder said and motioned Lucifae to follow him inside.

Lucifae followed him into the auxiliary narthex. “I… I am not quite sure what you mean, Father. I have only been doing my duty, and believe tonight was unremarkable compared to the previous two nights…”

“You saved us a lot of trouble by finding this man,” he said and he turned right into a long, lightless side corridor. She followed, relying on her nightsight to navigate in the dark as they left the last sanctuary lamp behind. The Elder Diviner Antipriest had no such gift, yet he could see.

“Is he an agent of the gods?” she asked, her voice a whisper in the dark, and held her breath as she waited for Father Ravoam’s reply.

“He could be. Perhaps there is a way to find out…” Father Ravoam seemed thoughtful as he turned left to a windowless, claustrophobic passage with a low ceiling that seemed to end at a narrow flight of stairs that led down.

“I… respectfully, I do not understand. Will not a confession, perhaps the circle of truth, prove whether this person is defiant or devout?”

Father Ravoam sighed as he reached the narrow flight of stairs. “Even I cannot know everything. The past fades away from us, dies out with our memories. The future is turbulent, uncertain, unformed. Divination, the magic of prognostication, has its limits. What I do know, however, is that you will be wise not to involve yourself in this further, Antipriestess Carver. You arrested this magician. Let the inquisitors handle the rest.”

Lucifae shivered. “I… I did not know he was wanted person.”

“He was not. We did not even know of his existence until you uncovered him.”

“I just stumbled upon him!”

“Did you, really?” Father Ravoam asked, his eyes closed. “I wonder if it’s fate, some unfathomable divine scheme, or your own ambition that is driving your actions…”

“I have proven my theomachic conviction!” she declared and instantly shivered, realizing it was the first time she had raised her voice at an elder.

The elder smiled without looking at her. “Oh you are worthy, yes. I never claimed otherwise,” the elder said and took a step down the stairs. “What I do claim, however, is that you should retire and enjoy a well-earned rest. Perhaps your mind will be clearer when you open your eyes again tomorrow. Rest. Let the future come to you.”

“We carry each other’s burdens, and in this way we need no gods,” Lucifae quoted Dysangelist Martana and bowed her head. She heard the elder walking down the stairs and when she lifted her head again, he was gone.

Alone, she walked out of the narrow passage. Turning left, she saw the faintest of lights outlining a silhouette that approached.

“May the gods fall,” she said in the darkness.

“And may we walk free once more,” the silhouette whispered in a familiar voice.

“Alric!” she exclaimed and walked towards the boy. “What are you doing here?”

“Yes, it’s me! I followed you, of course. Keep your voice down.” He was holding a mote of light under his cloak to navigate the darkness.

“We are alone. I can see nobody on either side of the corridor,” she said and willed a mote of her own. “Do you think it’s proper to follow your superiors?”

Alric covered his eyes. “Hey! Krotius said: “Be a sinner and sin boldly, but fight and oppose the gods even more boldly.”

“It’s ‘Dysangelist Krotius’ to us and this quote of his does not apply in your situation. Following me and Father Ravoam is hardly a sin, and you are hardly opposing the gods doing it,” she said and shook her head.

Alric pouted. “I just wanted to help you. Besides, I follow the elder all the time and he never notices,” he said and grinned, his pout vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Lucifae raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe that. Father Ravoam can read the omens, see into the future, predict the actions of men and women, and yet can’t notice a misbehaving apprentice sneaking behind him?”

Alric shrugged. “Those who always know when they are going, never look back,” he said with aplomb, and then chuckled.

Lucifae couldn’t help but smile. “This sounded too profound for a joke.”

“Joke? It’s my own wisdom! Wait till they put that quote in the scriptures of the future,” Alric said and chuckled again.

“Seriously, you can get into trouble, Alric.”

Alric pointed his still-bandaged hand at her. “Look who’s talking! You offend the gods, go around blowing up thugs with the Eternal Light, and now you’ve found a weird sorcerer that’s freaked out at least two elders!”

Lucifae sighed. “I take it that your duties are over for the night, so you can tell me what happened while we walk to your cell.”

Alric nodded and smiled at Lucifae as they started walking out of the dark corridor together. “So, I don’t know why, but Father Ravoam was scrying on you and Taran and that orc godbanger tonight. But then he freaked out and said some stuff I didn’t understand. Then, he really freaked out, left my seniors in charge, and literally sprinted upstairs like crazy to see someone… can you guess who?”

Lucifae shook her head, equal parts curious and worried.

“Come on, take a guess! He’s a ‘child of stone’ but he’s the oldest guy ever, he’s got more beard than all other antipriests combined, and he’s a ‘he’, obviously, hehe,” Alric said, Lucifae’s mote of light highlighting the grin on his face.

“The Venerable Elder Stonos…” Lucifae muttered. “But why?”

They took a turn towards the next wing and saw four paladins of the Pure Mind approaching. Exchanging a glance between them, both Lucifae and Alric stopped talking. After a long moment, and making sure the paladins could not overhear them, Alric whispered: “I don’t know why Ravoam went to the old dwarf, but like an hour later he came back down, panting and wheezing from all those stairs, and took a few of us, me included, to the inquisitors. Then we came out of the cathedral and waited for you, and you know the rest.”

“Thank you…” Lucifae whispered back. “I don’t know why the elders would be so interested in this man, Caspian. I thought he was suspicious at first, but now I almost feel bad for bringing him in,” she said, and looking down at Alric’s expression, she quickly added. “As long as he is not a faithful heretic, that is.”

Alric smiled at Lucifae. “Haven’t seen Ravoam freaking out like that for any common heretic paladins found in the ruins before. Maybe this Caspian is a really strong servant of the gods, like a saint, hmm?”

Lucifae shivered at the mention of a saint and quickly shook her head. “Unlikely. His magic was not divine. Even Rindar said so.”

“Unless he’s so powerful he can hide his true nature, eh?” Alric said with a grin.

“You’re not being serious, Alric,” she said and placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I shall look into this further. You should better go back to your cell and rest for the night. I don’t think you can afford to misbehave any further,” Lucifae said as sternly as she could.

“Oh, and you can?” Alric retorted with a grin. “I’ll go to my cell if you go to yours. Otherwise, I’m coming with you. I know when I smell adventure!”

Lucifae sighed. “Very well,” she said and gave Alric a reserved smile. “I have something I must do, and you may follow me as long as you should put effort into using proper titles and honorifics.”

“I always do!” the boy protested.

Lucifae turned around and walked with confidence back and towards the middle of the cathedral. “Only when the people you are talking about are present. Just before, you referred to your direct superior without his title, and you used the term ‘old dwarf’ to describe the Venerable Elder Stonos.”

Alric shrugged. “Well, you must admit that ‘old dwarf’ rolls off the tongue easier than ‘the Venerable Elder Stonos’, heh!” he said and looked around. “Where are we going?”

“Up,” Lucifae said and pointed towards a wide flight of stairs in the distance. “Now let us stay quiet and hurry until we reach our destination. We should appear as if we have been summoned by some elder, and not like we’re strolling through the cathedral. Otherwise someone might stop us and inquire about our late night duties.”

Alric nodded. They walked through sprawling corridors and up ancient stairways in silence. Alric tried to remain serious, but he couldn’t stop grinning. As they walked deeper and higher, they came across several clerics and a group of paladins of the Pure Mind that stopped them for a long moment and eyed them with scrutiny before letting them pass. More than an hour and about two thousand stairs later they had reached the top of one of the main spires. They caught their breath in a small hall with a single door and after a few minutes, Lucifae pushed the heavy door open and the cold night wind ruffled her hair and made her cloak billow out.

A narrow stone bridge led to an even taller spire more than fifty meters ahead. It stood on ancient arches wrought by the same magic that raised the entire cathedral. The moon shone brightly above, so she extinguished the mote of light in her hand. They stepped onto the bridge and Lucifae shut the door behind them. Looking to her side over the bridge, she felt dizzy at the sheer height. She rarely ventured that high in the cathedral’s spires.

Alric looked over the bridge. “Whoa, it’s too high!” he said, breaking the silence.

“It’s the highest bridge in the entire cathedral,” Lucifae said and took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Clever!” Alric remarked. “We’re going to see the old dwarf — oops, I mean the Venerable Elder Stonos —, right?”

Lucifae nodded as they walked across the bridge. “Yes, we are. Remember the proper titles and honorifics when addressing him and his students.”

“I knew it! We’ve dodged the guards and we’re going straight to him,” he said as he skipped next to her.

“Yes. We have no excuse to use the pulleys and it’s late, so the paladin guards would have turned us away, but the Venerable Elder has not retired for the night.”

“How do you know?’

She raised her hand towards a set of windows and a wide balcony high up on the spire ahead. “Light, which means the Venerable Elder Stonos is still being attended by students who do not possess nightsight.”

“Clever!” Alric chuckled. “You’re smarter than you look, Lucy!”

“And you are less polite than you should be, Alric,” she said flatly.

“… I’m sorry,” the young boy mewled and looked down.

“Apology accepted,” Lucifae said and patted him on his shoulder. “Now, let’s focus on the task ahead.”

Alric nodded and avoided her eyes.

They reached the other side of the bridge in silence. Just as Lucifae reached for the door, Alric jumped forward and grabbed the ancient ring pull. He grunted as he pulled the heavy wooden door open for her.

Lucifae stepped in and helped him close the door back behind them.

“More stairs. I know the… Venerable Elder can’t walk on the ground or something, but why does he have to stay so high up? Anyway, let’s go,” Alric said, a serious expression on his face.

She nodded and smiled encouragingly at him. “The Venerable Elder must stay as far away from the ground as possible to avoid the wrath of the warring god of mountains,” Lucifae said between breaths as they climbed up.

“Yup, Brotan” Alric said. “Oh right, lemme renounce him: ‘I renounce you, Brotan, false god of the mountains. May you crumble to dust,’ ” he quickly added.

… “May you crumble to dust,” Lucifae echoed. “Yes, Brotan claims all children of stone, all dwarves, as his own. Mother Bitterdawn says that the Venerable Elder has disobeyed and offended Brotan as much as a saintslayer, possibly more, so he has to remain where the god of mountains can’t reach him.”

“Oh wow. I thought he just had to avoid touching the ground, but having to live so high up with so many stairs… poor guy — I mean, poor Venerable Elder… wait, this doesn’t sound right, but you know I’m not disrespectful or anything!”

“At least you are trying,” Lucifae said and ruffled his hair. “Now, let’s mind our breaths because we’ve got another hundred or so stairs to go.”

Alric grinned. “Race you to the top?”

“No,” Lucifae said flatly, though she couldn’t help but smile. Her feet were aching, but she had given a promise and she couldn’t rest just yet.

After a few minutes and panting again, they saw light at the top of the stairs. They took a moment to compose themselves and as they climbed up the last remaining steps to the top, Lucifae saw a half-elf man at least a decade older than her, waiting for them. He had golden hair, like Lucifae, tied in a neat bun on his head. Behind him, an austere circular room with several doors and no furniture except for a few low tables that followed the curve of the wall awaited.

“Be a sinner and sin boldly,” the man said in the harsh tongue of stone, the language of dwarves.

Lucifae hesitated for a moment, but then she opened her mouth: “But fight and oppose the gods even more boldly,” she replied in dwarvish, completing the quote from the dysangelion of Krotius.

“But fight and oppose the gods even more boldly,” Alric muttered after a moment, copying Lucifae in her pronunciation of the obscure quote while looking sideways.

The half-elf smiled. “Welcome, sister; and welcome, young brother,” he nodded at each of them in turn. “I am Athar Cobbler, Defender Antipriest. Welcome to Saltriver Spire.”

“I am Lucifae Carver, Antipriestess of Light, and he is Alric Videv, Apprentice Diviner.”

Alric nodded back and looked Athar Cobbler in the eye and said: “If they try to break my spirit, I will not bend, I will not waver. Their hammers will break on the rock of my faithlessness.”

“So serious. I suppose you must be, for climbing all the way up here is no easy task. Please follow me,” Athar said and pointed towards the only pair of double doors in the circular room.

“You were expecting us,” Lucifae remarked as they walked. “How did you know we were coming?”

“Divination?” Alric asked seriously, though his eyes darted towards Lucifae for signs of approval.

Athar Cobbler smiled. “Nothing quite so impressive. With all due respect, we just heard your voices and your steps as you ascended our spire a while ago. As the sound of your steps drew closer, Greatfather Stonos asked me if I would be so kind as to welcome those who went into the trouble of climbing our spire tonight.”

“We are honored,” Lucifae said as Athar pulled the double doors open. Air, pleasantly warm and smelling of old incense more strongly than around the grand altar, surrounded Lucifae, pushing the cold of the night away. She stepped inside a cozy, low-ceiled study. A modest collection of books surrounded the walls and the floor was completely covered in thick carpets and hand-sewn cushions on which more than twenty disciples and acolytes of various genders and species were now all turning their necks to examine Lucifae and Alric with curious eyes. In the middle of the room, a frail man enveloped in his own outstandingly thick and long cloud-white hair and beard rested in an eight-legged, throne-like armchair with handles that allowed acolytes to carry it around. Through the hair, Lucifae could see a pair of stone-grey eyes, tired but still burning with the fire of life, on her. Under the enormous beard, she thought she could glean a warm smile.

The Venerable Elder opened his mouth, his smile turning into a tiny hole amidst the cascade of white hair. “All the theomachists were together and had everything in common,” he quoted Dysangelist Martana in her native tongue of men and a sigh escaped his lips as he closed his mouth.

Lucifae bowed deeply and was glad to see Alric doing the same next to her. “It is better to take refuge in your fellow mortals than to trust in a god, Your Reverence,” she replied.

“A pleasant surprise, to have so many visitors in a single night,” the elder said and several of his disciples nodded. “You did not use the pulleys to come up here, so you must be tired. Please, come closer, take a pillow. Tell us of your lives opposing the warring gods, and please, no need to be so formal with an old dwarf. Who has time to spare to recite titles when the gods still wage war on us?”

Lucifae stepped forward. “Your Reverence; I am Lucifae Carver, Antipriestess of Light. I have come seeking your wise counsel on a matter of some urgency.”

The elder gave her the slowest nod. “Ah yes, I remember you as an apprentice in liturgies and an attendant at my sermons, yes…” He smiled at her. “But even if this old head of mine had forgotten, your recent achievements would have brought you back to memory.”

Lucifae nodded and moved closer. A young human girl, around Alric’s age, with a red ponytail hurried to bring two puffy purple pillows next to Lucifae and Alric. “Thank you,” Lucifae mouthed at the girl and sat down.

“And you must be one of Ravoam’s kids. Yes, the robes…” the elder said and smiled at Alric.

The young boy stood in attention. “Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would crumble to pieces, I would still renounce the gods,” he quoted Dysangelist Krotius in his native dwarven tongue.

The elder chuckled. “Oh, what passion, and I do not even know your name…”

“I’m Apprentice Diviner and theomachist Alric Videv, Your Reverence!” the boy said with passion.

“Such a spirited young man. I feel a decade younger just having seen you. But please, take a pillow my boy. You must be tired after all those stairs,” the ancient dwarf said and smiled at Alric who looked down at his feet, unsure how to respond before sitting on the pillow next to Lucifae.

As Lucifae was weighing her next words, a female disciple of orcish ancestry stood up and pointed at her. “Greatfather, is she the cleric who —”

The ancient dwarf lifted a frail hand from under the thick duvet that covered his legs and the woman stopped mid-sentence. “Perhaps it would be wise to listen to what our visitors have to say first. Sometimes our questions are answered before we even make them,” he said and the disciple sat down on her pillow again with a grunt that reminded Lucifae of Rindar.

The ancient dwarf turned his grey eyes on Lucifae again. “But, forgive me for asking a question nonetheless,” he said and smiled as he tucked his hand under the duvet again. “So, how can this old man be of help, eh?”

She looked up at the elder’s eyes. “Tonight I arrested a civilian spellcaster on suspicion of heresy. He showed no signs of divine influence, but since his magic was unusual I thought I should bring him in for examination. Upon our arrival to the cathedral, the Elder Diviner Antipriest and the inquisitors reacted to this man’s presence with severity that is undoubtedly justified, but which I found surprising.”

“Ah, unusual magic. That’s interesting…” the elder said, eyes half-closed.

“I… I thought Your Reverence had been informed about this incidence,” Lucifae said tentatively and shot a quick glance at Alric. The young boy seemed transfixed on the elder’s enormous beard.

The ancient dwarf smiled under his enormous beard. “Ravoam, the head diviner, came here a few hours ago, and asked me a few questions. He’s always in a hurry when he visits lately. I suppose it’s natural to run through life when they know they have only a couple more decades before one is considered too old to carry on his duties, too dangerously close to dying from too many years lived,” he said and sighed. “But, forgive an old man for changing the subject. Please continue, Lucifae my child.”

Lucifae took a deep breath. “This man’s magic was wild and unpredictable. Possibly deviant but not god-given, as far as I could tell. He could cast spells without the usual implements, and at times he did not seem to be in control of his own magic. After we apprehended him, he renounced the gods with more surprise than hesitation and quickly pleased for his innocence. I am inclined to believe him. If he is an agent of the gods, he did not use his divine gifts wisely. In fact, he would probably be the least competent faithful heretic I have encountered…”

The elder nodded. “I see. Ravoam was right this time…”

“Right about what?” Lucifae asked. “If I may ask Your Reverence,” she quickly added.

“The dysangelists had written about them. They are rare, very rare, but I’ve come across a few in my journey through life. What Ravoam had suspected and your honest words just confirmed for me is that this man…” the elder took a deep breath, “the man you found, is a chaos sorcerer.”

Lucifae’s eyes widened. “…the seed of chaos and heavenly disorder?” she asked, quoting Dysangelist Lethimus, unsure of Caspian and uncertain about what awaited him in the hands of the inquisitors.

The elder nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes, that is correct, though I would have chosen Martana’s sweeter words about these mages instead: ‘My soul longs, yes, faints for the sorcerers of change; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the mortals that spite the gods just by existing’,” he quoted Dysangelist Martana in the tongue of men. The elder’s disciplines and apprentices exchanged glances but none spoke.

“But, I thought they were scriptural! I mean, didn’t the gods destroy them during the Age of Insight?” Lucifae asked.

The elder chuckled. “Perhaps not even the gods can predict and control where such a sorcerer might appear again, let alone the cathedral’s head diviner.”

“So, Father Ravoam… predicted I would encounter a sorcerer of change?” Lucifae asked in disbelief.

“On the contrary. He did not predict anything. That is what alarmed him,” the elder replied.

“I… I am not sure I understand,” Lucifae said and looked down at her crossed hands.

“Ah, I can explain everything, if you don’t mind losing some of your night’s sleep tonight,” the elder said and smiled at Lucifae.

She nodded. “It would be my honor.”

The smile widened across the elder’s face, deepening the wrinkles around his lips and on his large nose. “Bring everyone some honey tea, and add two splashes of mead in mine,” he said with surprising intensity and four young apprentices scurried to do his command. “I have a story to tell…”

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