Chapter 7: Witch of the West
(4 weeks after birth of 8th Campione)
Caleb
Look at them all. Gathered like some nauseous tide of festering, brown, turbaned pus inside our city. This isn't what my son died for. Died for against these very same people who strut around this place as if they actually belong here.
I grit my teeth and send a message to the 3 others stationed around the Aziziye Mosque, checking their GPS locations to make certain everyone's in place. Once we get started it'll be better for everyone if we know where we're all stationed. Putting my phone back in my pocket I lean against the alley wall and continue to watch all the Brownies pour in.
It's almost what they refer to as, 'the true afternoon' and we'll be ready for them. I don't know I manage to keep the anger and hurt off my face as I watch dozens of the Muzzies pour in for their prayers, but no one spares me a second glance, so I must be doing something right.
I almost pull my gun when I hear a small cough behind me but relax once I see it's a young girl who looks 12, maybe 13 at the oldest.
Trying to offer a reassuring smile since my sudden movement appears to have startled her I take stock of her appearance.
Grey hair that looks to be natural rather than artificial reaches down to the nape of her neck, a rather pale face with slight bags under her eyes and features that somehow seem to be equal parts harsh and fragile. She's wearing a jacket that seems a size too big over a t-shirt that has the opposite problem, hugging her figure in a way that almost looks like it crosses into the territory of being uncomfortable.
The 'outfit' is rounded off with a pair of baggy jeans and beat-up sneakers, if I had to guess I'd say she comes from a poor family…provided she even has one.
Facing her I try for a reassuring smile and say, "It's not safe around here love, you'd best be on your way."
She narrows her eyes and quietly says, "Is it because of them?"
Her eyes are focused on the turban wearing bastards with a haunted look in them, and I immediately feel my heart go out to this poor girl. Maybe an orphan due to terrorism?
Crouching slightly so that I can stare her in the eye without towering over her I gently state, "You don't need to worry about them sweetie, me and a few blokes of mine are going to make them wish they'd never come to this town."
She finally locks eyes with me, a serious expression on her face.
"Is that what the gun is for?"
My eyes briefly widen in shock and I ask, "How'd you know I was carrying a gun?"
She awkwardly shuffles on her feet and says, "Well…it was sticking out from underneath your shirt."
Bloody Hell, it's a stroke of luck that no Bizzies were walking around or I would've been caught. Some regular 007 I never would have made.
Re-focusing I more firmly say, "All the same, you do really need to leave. You don't want to see this."
"What if I do? But do you really think this is going to solve anything? There'll just be more of them…"
I wince at the harsh but simple logic in her words. Deciding to be blunt with her I say, "It might not solve anything. Or it might solve everything. If staying in this country hurts them enough, they won't want to come anymore. Simple as that."
Strangely enough she seems to get it as she nods gravely.
Offering her a fatherly smile that I haven't had anyone to use on in years I try again with, "Now it really is time for you to leave sweetie. Make like a tree and leave."
She briefly smiles and replies, "Ok…good luck."
Well how-bloody-about that? I actually got to do something decent before jumping feet first into Hell. Checking the GPS one last time I nod as everyone else is in position and slide my phone into my back pocket.
Then I hear the girl's voice again, but this time it's completely absent of that timidness and fright that dominated it's tones from before.
Now it's so cold that frozen nitrogen would seem positively toasty in comparison.
"I'll be needing that phone now. So long."
I feel something tube-like press up against the base of my skull right before there's the sensation of something hitting me in the back of the head…
…and then everything goes dark.
Elizaveta
Moving quickly I grab the guy's toppling body and gently ease it back into the alley, leaning him against the wall so that the hole in the back of his head isn't immediately visible. Pilfering his pocket for the phone he was using I quickly enter the password I secretly watched him enter and check on the location of his allies.
Too easy.
Confirming that he was one of the suspected gunmen had been laughably simple, not to mention that the Idiot had apparently used a tracking app to coordinate with his friends.
What a joke.
Leaning out of the alley I glance at the crowd of Muslims happily conversing with each other and shake my head. While the cooling corpse directly behind me was certainly right about pain being an effective weapon to use against your enemies, we Monastics don't take too kindly to this kind of crap.
Put religious people into a situation where they're under threat and being killed off en masse and rare is the group that doesn't attempt to turn their objects of worship into vengeful spirits or marauding beings of violence. Hell, sometimes they'll just create a new God entirely.
At which point congratulations idiot, you've just upped the chance a Heretic God will incarnate on the planet.
Sighing and kicking the distracting thoughts out of my head I turn around and begin my loop that'll take me to the next target's location.
I'll be annoyed later, for now it's time to work.
7 hours and a lot of cleanup work later I walk through the front door of the London House Hotel and nod distractedly to the staff who give me smiles of greeting. This assignment was a waste of my time and talents. Any Esoteric with half a working brain and use of at least one working limb could have completed that job no problems. So why was I tagged for grunt work? I'm Elizaveta of the West European Monastic Branch, the Esoteric descended from a Witch for Christ's sake! I should be out fighting Heretic Gods, not clearing out the gutter scum…
With a start I realize my legs took me directly to the front door of our Branch headquarters and I mentally compose myself.
I can't very well deliver my report in such a distracted state. Taking a deep breath I march through the office ignoring the seated Exoterics who ignore me just as thoroughly as I arrive at Loyd's office. Before I even get a chance to knock his voice rings out with, "Come in Sister Elizaveta."
Grimacing at how he always seems to know when people are about to knock on his door I walk in and try to keep the disgruntlement off of my face.
Loyd's office is rather expressive by most Monastic's standards, with several photos and posters scattered throughout the room, most of them depicting landscapes or famous tourist attractions. The man behind the decorations is almost a polar opposite of them however, being so thoroughly unremarkable that it's almost frightening. Average height, average build, average looks…if he walked into a crowd you'd lose him in seconds.
If I didn't loathe him so much I'd probably forget what he looks like everytime I leave his office.
"So how did your assignment go Sister?"
"You need to ask?"
"It's my duty to be certain no matter how obvious or apparent the outcome seems to be. The mission?"
Fighting down the urge to scowl at him I instead tersely reply, "The 4 attackers are dead and currently arranged in a warehouse so that it looks like they shot each other. It's not foolproof but the Cops won't have any other real explanation so they'll probably just shrug and move on. The Salat happened like normal. And that's it."
He stares at me for a few seconds with a pensive look that makes me want to growl at him but I hold my temper in check. Eventually he offers a tight smile and says, "Excellent work Sister, I expected nothing less from you. As a matter of fact I have another mission of great importance that requires your immediate attention."
For a second I let myself be excited…and then I remember how Loyd has said that at least a dozen times before and each time 'great importance' turned out to be painfully mundane.
Not bothering to hide my sigh I simply ask, "And what would this mission entail?"
"You have heard rumors of the 8th Campione being an Esoteric just like yourself?"
Not liking where this conversation is going I cautiously nod.
"Then I am sending you as our crown operative to the North American Branch who houses the 8th, known as Brother Jereth, as a sign of goodwill. Your flight will leave in 16 hours."
This takes a second to process.
"You're…what?"
"Sending you, our best Esoteric, to serve our new Godslayer Brother Jereth. It's quite an honor Sister Elizaveta."
I'm numb with shock, frustration and a fair bit of anger. I'm being sent away like some prize to serve a Godslayer of all things…I know a lot of Monastics look up to the Godslayer with Ten Lives as some sort of hero figure but I've sure as Hell never felt that way.
Those fanboys and girls tend to forget that said Campione indirectly lead to the creation of the King of the End system, causing who knows how much devastation over the millennia for both us and other Humans, the very people we've sworn to protect. Let's just say I'm not exactly enthused to be carted off for this Godslayer's pleasure.
Hopefully they don't take the pleasure part too literally, or this is going to blow even more than it already does…
…phrasing.
Growling I inquire, "And I suppose my thoughts on the matter don't account for much?"
With a friendly smile Loyd replies, "Not as long as you carry that Commandment Seal on your neck. And I'm sending word along to the 8th that you have one, so don't try to take advantage of that fact."
I stare at Loyd with unmitigated hatred before stiffly saying, "Is that all?"
He nods.
"It is. You're dismissed Sister Elizaveta, make us at the West European Branch proud."
It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to break something or someone on my way out.
My flight to the Reno-Tahoe International Airport was fairly uneventful and even somewhat restful, despite the limited amenities offered by Economy class seats. Being on the smaller side has it's advantages, even though I'd never admit it out loud. Leaving the flight was even easier since all I had was my carry-on bag containing a few changes of clothes and my laptop. Aside from that all I have is my phone and wallet.
And I'm traveling heavy by Esoteric standards.
Walking out the front door I'm immediately hit with a wave of stuffy heat and my scowl deepens even further. It's the tail end of Summer here and it's easily pushing 93 degrees with almost no breeze. I'm just glad I decided to dress cooly with running shoes, yoga pants and a t-shirt. Anything heavier and I'd be breaking out into a sweat just standing here.
I hate the heat.
"Sister Elizaveta?"
I turn at the sound of the voice and find myself staring at an enormous African American man who's height of 6'3" easily dwarfs my 4'10", never mind the weight difference.
I simply nod and say, "Judging by your appearance I take it you're Brother Creele?"
He raises an eyebrow and asks, "My appearance?"
I nod and clarify, "Loyd said to look for a man who was, 'Large and in Charge'. His words exactly."
Creele lets loose a bark of laughter and amusedly replies, "Well when put like that I suppose that's not a bad description…how about we continue this conversation in the car? I hate this weather."
The first hint of a smile crosses my face at his words.
"I think that's something we both agree on Brother Creele."
He grins in reply and says, "You can just call me Creele. And we wouldn't be alone in feeling that way, Jereth would likely be bitching about how hot it is right about now if he was here. But no, he's in an air conditioned office while we're out here in the sweltering heat. Sometimes I want to strangle the little Bat-Gwai."
I can't help but raise an eyebrow at Creele's relaxed dressing down of the 8th.
"It sounds like you're pretty familiar with him."
"Well I do consider myself to be one of his few, if not the only, friend. We go back way before he became a Godslayer. Which is why I have such little respect for the fool."
I can't help the small chuckle that escapes from my throat at his candor.
"I'll freely admit you're not what I was expecting from the 8th's second-in-command."
"Don't sell me short, I'm the one that runs the show. He just sits there and distracts me when I'm trying to work."
Failing in trying to stop my smile from getting bigger I continue with, "So I'm curious as to what Jereth is like. Give me a little heads up?"
"It'd be easier if you told me what you think he's like and I can tell you whether you're close or not."
Following his suggestion I take a moment to think about it before I begin with, "Well he's obviously lucky or skilled enough to have killed a Heretic God-"
"Two actually. Both of them less than two weeks apart in fact."
I raise an eyebrow after hearing this little bit of news. Loyd sure as Hell hadn't mentioned anything about that.
"Ok so he's either very lucky or very skilled, and if you're anything to judge by he probably has a sense of humor, or you'd be out of a job. Other than that…well I don't really know anything about him."
"Then you have the right mindset for your first meeting. Jereth tends to do the unexpected, so not having any expectations going into this will probably be easier for you."
He gives me an appraising look and then says, "Did you dress that way specifically to impress him? If so you certainly have the look down right."
Uh, what? I dressed specifically not to leave much of an impression. Hell, I didn't even bother to do anything with my hair and now it's hanging loosely down to the nape of my neck in a tangled and windblown mess. Deliberately appearing unsexy would lower the chance of becoming the guy's paramour.
Seeing my confused look he simply says, "He's a bit of a lazy dresser himself. Peas of a pod and everything."
I sigh and continue to walk alongside him in a resigned mood.
This new assignment is turning out to be a massive headache already…
Walking through the Hard Rock Hotel I keep reminding myself to stay alert and wary. I already let my guard down once, and I almost didn't notice it.
Creele was a little too friendly for just having met a previously unknown Esoteric, and I nearly fell into that the trap of trusting him completely despite not knowing anything about my new situation. His talk of being friends with Jereth, easily listing his flaws and throwing me off balance with his observation that Jereth would probably like me…all clever misdirections that I fell for.
The man is a professional manipulator.
Ronald Reagan summed up the Monastery's feelings on this matter best. Trust, but verify.
It's be nice if Creele was being honest…but I'll keep my wits about me until I get a better idea of where exactly I stand in all of this. As we walk through the doors leading to the Monastic offices I'm not all that surprised that the layout seems almost exactly the same as the one back in London.
If it ain't broke…
Creele gives me a friendly nod and says, "Just head on in through the door over there and Jereth will be waiting for you. Just relax and don't be too tense around him. You'll make him nervous."
I make a note to be as cold and tense as possible. Anything that'll throw this Godslayer off balance works for me.
Provided that wasn't another lie of course.
Heaving a sigh I walk towards the door as Creele sits at his desk and take a moment to compose myself. Putting my game face on I walk through the entryway and almost stop in surprise at the sheer amount of random stuff laying about the office. Aside from the large desk in the center of the room the only other furniture is a bookcase that runs along the eastern wall.
And it was full of crap. A lava lamp, model globe, sword rack containing plastic lightsabers of all things…the books themselves were at least of some practical value, covering topics such as math, physics, geography, philosophy and the occasional book pertaining to myths.
Taking my eyes off of the bric-a-brac I focus on Jereth himself.
Initial impressions are rather…underwhelming.
He's fairly good looking, short, dirty blond hair in a mess that looks as if he just woke up and didn't bother to comb anything. Most noticeable is his startlingly bright green eyes that resemble highly polished gems, even from the distance I'm standing at. He has two earrings, one with a Native American dream catcher design and the other resembling a Christian style cross with a necklace rounding out the ensemble, although the design is hidden beneath his shirt.
Speaking of his shirt, the outfit he's sporting seems more at home for a beach boardwalk party than the head of a several millennia old secret organization. Dark green tank top and brown cargo-shorts with black sandals doesn't exactly scream, 'Hey watch out for me, I'm a Devil King!'.
But maybe that's the point.
He distractedly shoots me a glance before looking back to the computer screen and says, "Be with you in a moment…"
Unable to suppress my annoyance at being brushed off I sarcastically retort, "Take your time, I can see the place is packed."
This goes largely unnoticed by Jereth and I grumpily cross my arms and unceremoniously drop my bag on the floor.
Ok maybe I'm not being the most mature of the two people in this room, but I look like I'm 13 years old. I can get away with a little temper tantrum.
Jereth continues to stare intently at the computer for almost another three minutes, his eyes rapidly scanning the screen and occasionally clicking the mouse. Just as I'm about to clear my throat he sighs and says, "Mind coming over here for a second?"
My curiosity admittedly piqued I walk over as he rotates the screen to show me…minesweeper.
Fuck-mothering-minesweeper.
"So there's two spaces left here, and all the surrounding squares are telling me one of these has a mine. I'm tempted just to let a Campione's natural luck do it's thing…but I'm curious as to what you'll pick."
Not particularly giving a crap I just randomly point to one and Jereth pauses for a moment…before picking the one I didn't point to.
Which was a mine. Game over.
I hear him mutter under his breath, "Dammit…shoulda gone with her suggestion and my gut…oh well, experiment concluded."
Giving a small shake of his head he actually locks eyes with me and says, "Sorry about the wait, I take it you're Elizaveta?"
"I am."
"Well as you likely already figured out my name is Jereth, the 8th Campione and the leader of the North American Monastic Branch. Despite what Creele may have told you."
I carefully nod.
"He did seem adamant about making his position clear."
He snorts and amusedly says, "Lemme guess, he told you that he does most of the thinking, that I'm a fool and that I tend to do the unexpected?"
"Pretty much all of those things, yah."
"Well that's because he's kind of a prick who also just so happens to steal people's lunch even though their name is on it!"
He yells the last bit and I hear an answering shout of, "That's because your name wasn't on it Belegana!"
He mumbles under his breath what sounds like, "Sounds like Tim's idea of a stupid fucking joke…"
Heaving a sigh he gets up from his chair and walks around the desk to face me directly. And by that I mean look down on me. Being short sucks sometimes.
Cutting my musings short he says somewhat apologetically, "Probably not the first day at work you were expecting huh?"
"…Not really, no."
"Sorry about that. Well let's get you broken in and everything. Strip."
That takes a few seconds to process.
"…what?"
"Strip. You know, as in divest with the clothing and everything? No need to be shy, you're quite beautiful really."
Trying to talk normally despite the burning rage and slight trill of fear I'm experiencing I quietly ask, "And if I say no?"
He cocks an eyebrow and easily states, "Well that's not really an option for you."
My temper get's the better of me and in a motion that transcends the word fast I haul my right arm back and slug the bastard's face right on the jawline. Instead of getting knocked out cold or moaning in pain he merely takes a small step back and rubs his jaw in mild annoyance.
Shit, I forgot that Campione are way more durable than Humans. Before I can make up my mind on what to do next he speaks with an authoritative tone to his voice, "Stop moving."
My body grinds to a halt and I feel my anger quickly transform into terror. Oh shit shit shit he used the Commandment Seal…
Only able to rigidly stand still as he walks behind me I shut my eyes and try not to show any weakness. I swear if this sick fuck does anything I'll make him pay no matter how long-
"Hmm…your Commandment Seal's structure is a bit different to ours but…", I almost gasp as I feel his hand suddenly lay itself against my neck before he happily states, "Well you won't be needing this anymore!"
There's a sudden shock where my Commandment Seal used to be followed by what feels like ice being poured through my veins...and then a relaxed vibe washes over me. Did he just…
Walking back around me Jereth collapses bonelessly into his chair and in the same voice he used earlier when forcing me to remain motionless says, "Raise your left arm."
I wince in preparation for the movement…that never comes.
What?
Immediately focusing on where my Commandment Seal used to be I start searching for that odd knot-like feeling that always used to signify it's existence.
Glaring at Jereth I tersely ask, "Did you…remove it?"
Somewhat abashedly he replies, "Yup. And let me apologize for the shitty things I said to you a moment ago about the whole stripping thing. I wanted to get as honest a reaction out of you as possible and that seemed to be the quickest way. You passed the test with flying colors by the way."
I feel like I'm getting whiplash here. And it's not helping that my mind is starting to process the fact that the Seal is finally gone. Ruthlessly stamping out my wildly oscillating emotions I focus on the 8th and ask, "What test?"
"Well Loyd sent you here as a gesture of good faith and to honor our upcoming alliance, you're familiar with that custom?"
I nod. It's an old tradition where one Branch gives it's best operative to another Branch as a sign of cooperation and willingness to trust, it's not a gesture made lightly.
"Well put bluntly I don't want the people I'll be working with closely to just go along with whatever the Hell I say. You saw how Creele treats me. He's just as likely to support one of my ideas as he is to bluntly tell me how retarded it is. And that's the kind of input I'll need in the future. You quickly decking me across the face as soon as I made you do something you didn't like fits the bill quite nicely."
Well that makes sense in a ruthlessly efficient kind of way. I'd be lying if I said I didn't even admire the sheer simplicity and effectiveness of it though. I'd probably do the same thing if our positions were reversed.
A sudden thought occurring to me I scowl and ask, "So why did you use the Commandment Seal on me? Couldn't you have just said, 'hey you passed the test, now hold still so I can remove the goddamn thing'?"
His grin turns smug and he playfully replies, "That was strictly for my own warped amusement. Your punch did hurt after all."
I stare at him for a few seconds before a small smile I have no control over appears on my face. He see's it and simply says, "All sexual harassment and verbal games aside you do have a nice smile."
Surprised at the sudden honesty in his voice I decide to just ignore that confusing statement and ask, "Spare me the flattery. What now?"
Adopting a business-like expression he quickly surmises, "Loyd filled me in on a lot of your capabilities and what sorts of missions you usually ran. Given your skills I'll likely be having you undertake important tasks for me, ranging from assassinations to surveillance to outright extortion. What you'll be doing most of the time however is sticking around as my guard and helping to brainstorm with Creele. Oh, and we'll probably be traveling around the world meeting with other Campione, fighting Heretic Gods…you know, the usual."
I nod and try to hide the small burst of pride I feel at finally having someone recognize my skills. I'm fairly certain Loyd just gave me shitty work as a form of punishment.
I merely nod though and ask, "Is that it for now?"
"Yup. Ask Creele for your room number, you'll be staying at the hotel until we can figure out some sort of more permanent residency for you."
"I don't particularly mind staying here, I've never really stayed in one place for more than a month anyway. Besides, as your 'guard' shouldn't I stay close to where you are?"
He snorts and replies, "Just like you said, I don't stick around in one spot for long either. Well suit yourself either way. You're free to do whatever for now, but be back here in 6 hours, that's when Creele and I usually think about various important shit and I want you to sit in on it, offer your own perspective and what not."
I give a final nod and reply, "Understood."
I turn around and leave with nary another word.
I'm not even through the door before a smug little grin appears on my face. Looks like I'll finally get a chance to show off what I'm capable of! Also I need to think of a way to get back at Jereth for that messed-up joke he pulled with the Commandment Seal…maybe I'll try to talk to this Tim person Jereth was muttering about.
Jereth
Heaving an exhausted sigh I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. I'm good at manipulating people, just like any worthwhile Esoteric should be, but doing it to someone I'm likely going to respect in the near future bothers the Hell out of me.
And Elizaveta definitely seems to be someone who'll both demand and earn said respect come Hell or high water. I can't help the goofy grin that comes to my face as I lightly massage my still tender jaw. Had my bones not been reinforced I'd be the proud new owner of a horribly misaligned jawline.
What can I say? I like a girl who can throw a good punch.
…Makes me feel like shit that Creele and I deliberately played on her not so subtle craving for acknowledgement. I didn't send him to pick her up on a whim, he was testing the waters, so to speak, and sent me his initial impressions as soon as he sat down at his desk.
I mean, I sure as fuck wasn't playing bloody minesweeper while my first potential bodyguard was standing around waiting for me. That was just a convenient excuse.
"Hey Moon Cricket, we've got a bit of a problem."
Creele's voice brings me out of my reverie and I fix him with an amused look.
"Moon Cricket? Haven't heard that one before."
"Native American term. White like the moon, makes annoying noises like a cricket…"
"Charming. So what's the latest disaster coming our way?"
"One of our guys on an outbound flight at SFO caught sight of Salvatore Doni as he was about to board. A lucky break for us in the sense that at least we're forewarned."
I heave a defeated sigh and hang my neck off of the back of the chair.
"Does this guy have a Golden Earring or something? How the Hell does he always manage to find his way…"
"It's that Radar Love of his."
"Thank you for knowing that reference. Now I don't feel so old."
We're both quiet for a moment before I abruptly stand up and order, "Get one of the cars ready, Elizaveta and I are headed to San Francisco. Get me eyes on Doni and I'll try to make the best of this."
He nods and asks, "You gonna kill him?"
I snort contemptuously and say, "Even assuming by some miracle I could kill him that'd be completely counterproductive to us at this point."
"Yah I figured. I'll have the info ready for you by the time you're out of here. Armus ad armus Brother."
"See you when I get back."
Elizaveta
The room I'm at is fairly standard hotel fair, although furnished in a pretty extravagant way. Black carpeting with red and white bedsheets, large tv and a fairly spacious bathroom.
By Monastic standards I'm basically living in the lap of luxury here. I'd just decided to maybe try out the rooms shower when there was a knock at the door. Jeez, can't a girl get more than 10 minutes of privacy?
I walk over to the peephole and frown when I see that it's Jereth carrying some sort of duffel bag. I hope this isn't some idiotic situation where he says something along the lines of 'Oh by the way this is also my room, haha fooled you!'…maybe I'm overthinking this.
Opening the door I raise an eyebrow and ask, "What's the occasion? Board games?"
His mouth actually quirks briefly before losing it and replies with, "How do you feel about starting work right away? Nothing too major, just the 6th Campione making a house call and I'm on my way to play host. You want to come along?"
I stare for almost a full second before I smirk and archly reply, "You have to ask? This'll be a great chance to show you just what I'm made of and wonder how you got along without me before today."
He predatorily grins and coyly says, "Oh will I? Well I'll be counting on you then Sister Elizaveta. Need anything before we go?"
I grab a sweatshirt from my bag and immediately head back with a challenging grin on my face.
"All set on my end. Or do you need to use the bathroom before we go?"
He merely shakes his head and starts walking away.
"Come on then smartass, we've got a VIP meet-and-greet to attend."
I fall in step behind and him and slightly to the left, hardly able to contain my giddiness. Christmas came early today!
And thus concludes the introduction of Elizaveta! Next chapter is the idiot vs. the asshole, a combo I'm having a lot of fun writing.
Kshail: I hear you 100% about the glut of powers and how that tends to promote 'throw shit at the wall and see what sticks' mentality. Jereth's only getting those powers from Deity's directly related to the Triglav however and for everything else 'standard' rules apply. Glad you like the interlude, I wasn't entirely certain how people would react to the Monastery's background but so far things seem positive!
Matrience: Happy to hear that you liked my attempt at fleshing out the background of the Monasteries. And yah, once I thought about what kind of Authorities the Biblical God would actually have it was like, 'huh. That seems ridiculously Overpowered.'.
Griffin13: There will be a bit of contention between Jereth and the other Branch Heads over just how much authority he'll have (I don't wanna spoil anything too far in advance), and the Quiet Land will definitely play an important role later in the story. Not for awhile though.
Piddle: Appreciate you saying so sir.
accelerator 231: I forget which chapter I mentioned this in, but a very kind person who wished to remain anonymous donated some copies for my perusal. I've mostly just been using them to make sure all the Authorities and stuff are in line with the canon, since the story will be taking a pretty steep departure from the established one once Jereth and the Monasteries start making their moves.
