To say that the guards were inhospitable would have been a compliment. If I were them, and if I knew whom I was escorting (theoretically speaking), I would fall to my knees and thank the Flare Dragon, Aqualord, Flarelord, Earthlord and Airlord that the prison was on warded ground. Respect was so short in supply among these most fanatical of Dragomir's guardsmen that even Emilia was treated like a common criminal. As we were led along in a line with our hands tied with some odd rope (save Emilia, who was carried in her still-paralyzed form), I took note of the structure of the central district.
The palace was an immense mansion with the rustic elegance of past ages preserved in white marble. Recent renovations made the palace sparkle in the ambient light of the lawn lighting despite the corruption it housed. As soon as the lot of us was arrested, Sorin Dragomir turned and faded off into the murky blackness of the direction he came in. Dragomir was every bit as powerful as I imagined, or at least he was formidable if he could pull off such a high-level white magic spell as Rayfreeze in the time it took me to warn Emilia.
Is it too late to say, 'I have a bad feeling about all this'?
At the very least, I got to take in a breath of fresh air and see the finest flora of the palace grounds before I was taken into what could have been my home for forever, for all I knew. Entry to the palace after the main gate was a white stone path that wound through a sea of neatly trimmed and well-cultivated grass. Further ahead down the path were three branches in the walkway. One led straight to the massive palace, which was further separated from the grounds by another layer of gated walls. The path to the left led to a complex of smaller buildings close to the palace, but not a part of it. From the looks of things, they were guesthouses and recreational suites. The path to the right led into a garden complete with a fountain and rife with flowering plants. It was relaxing and took some of the edge off the stressful situation we were in, as this was the path that we walked down. It worked a large, circular path around the huge central building, and another huge central building became visible.
This building that I spoke of was the very center of Saillune, the most protected zone in the entire world. The whole city's layout — the gigantic Rune Breaker — was superior inside the center of that temple. It was white in color, like the palace, but it was more gothic in its structure. It was laid out in the form of a giant compass, each arm pointing to a cardinal direction. The massive church was aligned so that the sun would stream light in through the windows at any time of the day. It was impressive, but it wasn't a terribly hope-inspiring symbol of mercy anymore. We walked past the imposing cathedral to a lonely building some distance beyond the garden and the temple. It just so turned out that this was the prison.
I'd much rather be staying in the guest quarters. Think I have an option? ... Probably not.
I hesitated with each step I took, and with each little bit of resistance I put up it was another spear shaft that I took to the back. Each time I resisted more, keeping myself silent and protesting with only my body language. When the guards looked me in the face and badmouthed me, I only gave them a knowing grin, basically inviting them to do their worst. I just wanted an excuse to blow them to kingdom come. It was suppressed, yeah, but a fireball still would have caused quite a bit of havoc.
It reached a point where I was thrown aside onto the grass with a string of typical cuss-outs, and I screamed in an exaggerated, girly way to rile up the rest of my party. It resulted in a low-scale fight during which Kari and Judas cracked a few more skulls. I tried to cut my bonds with a simple Bram Fang spell, which requires no gestures, but I found out the hard way that the ropes were weird because they cut the flow of magic.
No expense spared, huh?
The last thing I saw was the end of a spear shaft before my vision went black.
I woke up with a throbbing headache in a dark, damp room with a hard floor. My back was soaked with sweat, and I was more than a little disoriented though I still noticed almost immediately that I was missing my mantle and sword belt.
Ugh. Both family heirlooms in the same night. Mom is gonna kill me if Dragomir doesn't first.
As I sat up on the cold stone floor, I squinted through the darkness while feeling the sore spot on my forehead. The blood that I wiped off with my fingertips was only half-clotted, so I hadn't been out long.
"Nice of you to join us, Rina."
I turned in the direction of the familiar voice and saw Judas brooding in the darkness. My eyes reflexively switched over to the bars that separated him and me. The closer set of bars belonged to my cell, and then there was a narrow, empty walkway before the small square cell that housed Judas. He sat there, steeped in the shadows of his shelter, eyes leering from the darkness like those of a beguiled wolf.
I looked around after my vision stopped blurring, and in a cell adjacent to my own was Kari. He was curled up in the center of the cell, snoring contentedly and drooling all over the floor. That was to my left facing Judas; to my right was Emilia. She was far from asleep; she was doing the best she could to hold fast to an older woman through the bars separating them.
"Uh, Emilia?"
She turned to me, away from the woman. "Miss Rina! You're bleeding!"
I groaned. "Thanks for the news flash," I muttered. "Who is that you're with?"
"Oh yeah. This is my mother."
I looked up and saw the woman smile, though it was a weak, weary one. "Hi there."
The woman looked me over quietly for a minute before introducing herself in a quiet, comforting tone. "You can call me Feliciana." She was pretty down to earth for royalty. Feliciana was a woman with dark hair, fairly tall and bordering on Kari's height (yeah, I use him to compare everyone's height as you've noticed), and a little hefty. But she was by no means overweight, as she was very nicely proportioned, if I do say so from another woman's perspective.
I wish I had her curves. What happened to my hourglass physique?
Across the corridor that bisected the two rows of prison cells — directly across from Emilia's mom — a large, looming figure took shape from the dim grayness of the prison. It was an obviously male figure of impressive stature, and he was clothed in white robes that seemed to sparkle with expensive embroidery. As I squinted again to get a better look at the figure, I recoiled all of a sudden as I thought I saw his eyes flash.
"Lighting!"
A strange, youthful voice called the spell from somewhere beyond my sight, and a ball of light unexpectedly appeared.
... Oh yeah! White magic is exempt from the warding because the ward is created by white magic.
Lecture ahoy. Magic wards such as Rune Breaker and smaller wards seem to make an area almost completely impervious to magic because of the way magic works. The prevailing theory in the Sorcerer's Guild is this: magic is a disruption of the natural order caused by invoking forces from the Astral Plane to create an unnatural effect. Arrows of fire or ice don't make themselves, right? The exception to this rule is white magic, because it is a part of the natural world. Thus, wards work by forcing all energy to flow naturally within the specified area. Unnatural energies get forced out of this plane as a result, creating the effect of magical immunity.
End lecture.
The corridor became illuminated by several orders of magnitude in an instant. The Lighting spell was made to be intense, and I judged it would last for another five minutes before flickering out. After my eyes adjusted to the brightness and I no longer had to squint, the scenery somehow seemed just as dark, gloomy and depressing in the spell-light as it did in the dark. In fact, it was probably less depressing in the dark because that way I couldn't see just how claustrophobic the quarters actually were.
Somebody save me.
Thanks to the lighting, I was able to see just who the monster in the cell across from Feliciana was. He stood a head or two over Karius from what I could tell, and he had a thick beard of black hair that was braided expertly, though that style was looking to come apart and desperately needed refreshing from an aide or some other stylist. His hair was the same black color, medium in length with tresses that tickled his massive neck muscles. The top of his head was balding, but from his face I judged that he could be no more than forty years old. To top off the look, he had a handlebar mustache that gave him an oddly contemplative look — as if he was contemplating murder, or perhaps just assault and battery.
As I suspected, there was a crazy light in his eyes.
"Well," the massive man drawled, "our cell-mates seem to be quite the motley crew indeed," so he mused. His voice was deep, so deep that my throat actually felt sore after hearing him speak just one sentence. A much younger voice echoed from down the corridor. Through the obscuring view of the bars on my side, I made out a figure that looked just like Emilia in the distance.
It wasn't Emilia, obviously, but probably Emilio. Emilia said they were twins, after all. All twins look the same, right?
"That they do, Father," Emilio commented. "That was quite the spectacular racket you caused out there, Emmy."
Emilia looked a little sheepish. She poked her forefingers together intermittently, speaking just above a squeak as far as tone was concerned. "Well, I didn't really cast any of the spells, Lio." Out of her sheepishness in an instant, Emilia swept her hands out towards Judas and me. "It was them — Mr. Judas and Miss Rina!"
The man, Feliciana, and Emilio all turned their eyes on Judas and me. Looking over at him, I saw that even Judas shrank in the midst of their glares. Me, even more so. Being in a justice-loving land, I felt like a criminal defendant in the most one-sided trial in history. My reputation isn't exactly squeaky clean, and who is most likely to be aware of dangerous individuals than royalty? I did the best I could with the situation I was given, so I waved at the three of them with the most sincere smile I could fake.
"H-Hey!" I greeted enthusiastically.
Silence. I pursed my lips shut and glanced to each person in the room. I cleared my throat, wondering if I had made a funny noise while talking, or if my voice had cracked. Only Kari's snoring broke the silence besides the typical, dungeon-esque drip-drip of a leak I'd rather not know the location of.
"Rina... Erris?" puzzled Emilia's brother, his brows bent oddly, turning to his comparatively pensive father.
"The notorious childlike bandit slayer? Whose eyes glitter like the darkest fires of Hell?" he continued. "The flat-chested girl that slaughters villages and gorges on the blood of virgins in order to hold onto her youth?" And he went on. "The Hellmaster Made Flesh? The Rainbow Devil?"
"YES," I finally growled, my face, without a doubt, twisted with displeasure.
"Miss Rina," Emilio announced in a voice that sounded as strong as he could muster, "I, Emiliano Leo De Saillune, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your sorcery, though an utter failure in light of the fact that you were captured, was a brilliant exposition of your love of righteousness."
I stared. I didn't get to fully question Emilio's sanity; he answered it for me in the next instant.
"For Great Justice!" he cried as he thrust a defiant fist up into the air. Emilia and their father echoed the very same statement a second later.
"For Great Justice!"
There was a brief silence afterward, but before long Feliciana also brought a fist up to eye level, smiling absently.
"Well, I married into the family, but whoo-hoo. Go Justice." Feliciana recited the words in a normal tone; she didn't seem to be a yeller like the rest of the Saillune family. But nevertheless, Felicia punctuated the sentiment with a cute, feline smile.
I shook my head frantically, applying a Recovery spell to my throbbing wound. It was like a bad dream; I found myself in a jail cell stripped of my belongings and surrounded by lunatics. The throbbing pain in my stomach hadn't subsided yet, either. Rolling up my blouse for a second revealed some nasty bruising on my abs. I shot a quick glare over to Judas and barked at him.
"Hey!"
"What?" he answered in a tone readily dripping with acid.
"You still haven't apologized for hitting me and the others back at the inn!"
"And?"
"Uh... duh? Isn't it time you apologized?"
"... What good would that do us now?"
"Well, it would make me feel better for starters. I might be less inclined to get you back for it once we're out of here." I batted my lashes for effect. "So c'mon — will ya?"
"... No."
I huffed. "Fine!" I didn't feel like dealing with the sour-ass anyway. I had healing to do. Turning to Emilia's father, I called out to him.
"Hey! You! Uh... Phil, right?"
The man puffed out his great chest and thumped the center of it with a broad right hand. "I am Philionel the Third, King of the Holy Capital of White Magic, Saillune, and the Avenging Justiciar of St. Amelia!"
Like Emilia, he was long-winded with the simplest of things. As I glanced over to her, I noticed that Emilia's eyes were glossed over with what I can only describe as enraptured love and admiration for Phil. She held her hands clasped at her chest, and she was starry-eyed with awe. "Daddy! Your words can only be the admirable speech of a Champion of Justice!"
I glanced up uneasily at Feliciana. She only gave me the same clueless, catty smile as earlier, as if to say, "Don't worry, this is normal for them. Want a cupcake?" I wondered if the woman even realized that she was in prison anymore. Come to think of it, I wondered how she could have even been attracted to Phil. His complexion looked leathery from too much exposure to the sun, and he was as hairy as a gorilla. It was no comfort that he also looked like he sweats a lot. Much like his daughter, though, I had to say that Phil was at the top of his form physically. It didn't hurt that he was king, either, and buddy is it good to be king.
Well, except in this case.
I finished up my healing and grabbed a hold of two of the bars constituting my cell. "Alright, alright. Enough clowning for now." I darted my gaze to Phil and spoke forwardly. "I need to know what's going on here."
Phil suddenly went quiet, and he sat down on the floor of his cell in a cross-legged position. "Very well, Miss Rina! What do you wish to know?" The others among me also sat down or piped down. When the king spoke, it was time to play quiet mouse, it seemed. Or maybe it was common courtesy and nothing related to the king's position. Who knows, and — really — who cares?
"Well, lots of things," I muttered, half to myself and half to Phil. "But let's start with the head priest, Sorin Dragomir. Where did he come from?"
Phil gave me a pained expression, and he gripped his knees as he rocked back and forth on his regal buttocks. "Ah, Sorin," he spoke as if he had known Dragomir on a first-name basis. "When I met him back in my halcyon princely days, he was but a talented priest who claimed to be from across the Demon Sea."
I quirked a brow at that almost immediately. "Whoa. 'From across the Demon Sea'? That's a pretty tall and farfetched claim, even in these days," I remarked. "How do you know he wasn't pulling your leg? Or just a little lost in the head?"
Phil stroked his beard, continuing without reflecting on my thoughts. "Sorin was always a mysterious man. He came to Saillune claiming that he was only a priest seeking to further his knowledge of the healing and banishing arts. In the temple, he quickly became an admired figure for not only his dedication to knowledge, and the way he steeped himself in the library for days at a time, but also for the insights and almost otherworldly wisdom he possessed."
"You know," I interjected, "Dragomir doesn't sound like the sort who would be interested in political gain or pettiness like that."
"Indeed," Phil conceded. "Justice became a concern of incredible value to Sorin, and so he began a crusade of sorts." Phil paused to chuckle bitterly at the irony. It was rich and heavy, that's for sure. "A crusade that bordered on madness. Never did I imagine that he would come up with a Mazoku, though! Now that was a touch of brilliance so conniving, so underhanded, and so convincing, that I started to believe that I had associated with the blasted demons."
Troubling, I understated in my mind.
"Did Dragomir show any signs of treachery before this debacle occurred?"
"Hmm," Phil droned. "So my beloved daughter has already informed you of what transpired here then, has she?"
Well duh — we're in a prison. Even if she hadn't, I could've guessed!
"Uh, yeah. Sorta'. That's kinda' the reason why I'm here — to get the full story, and to set things right." And collect a sum for my troubles, if it isn't too much strain on the coffers, Your Highness.
Phil descended into a contemplative silence, his bushy brows knitting every two seconds or so. "Truly the fires of justice burn within your heart, Miss Rina, so I shall oblige you with this knowledge."
Glancing over across from my cell, I caught Judas coming off the end of an annoyed eye roll. My sentiments, more or less.
"Okay," I simpered with a lack of confidence. "Let me have it!"
"Before leaving us to rot in this prison that I could swear I ordered it remodeled to better fit a kinder, more humanitarian side of incarceration, Sorin demanded to know about the Icon of Saillune."
I tilted my head. The alien name bounced around in my head a couple of times before it splurted out of my ears, a sign practically appearing over my head that read 'Rejected.'
"No clue," I muttered to Phil.
"The Icon of Saillune," he continued, "is a small statue of Ceiphied about ye big," he gestured with his bear paw hands, "and made of orihalcon metal. Otherwise, it is unremarkable."
Ping. It was like someone had turned a light on in my head. I stayed quiet, though, for the big guy was not yet finished talking. At this rate, it looked like there would be plenty of time for questions afterward.
"The Icon has a few very special properties about it. For one, it cannot be broken by normal means."
My mind flashed back to the night when I first met — or rather, fought — with Judas. He had managed to grab my bag and loot the contents for a moment. During that instant, he took the initiative of smashing one of the statues; I had two. But I suppose Judas was taking the quickest route to finding out the real thing by giving it that stress test. As the memory dredged up some unpleasant feelings of being cheated out of a significant sum of money, I gave Judas a mocking look. He ignored me, as he was busy angsting over something, probably over why the water had to be so wet.
"Two, the Icon acts like a key."
I craned my head expectantly. This is what I'd been waiting to hear. "Yes...?"
"The key," Phil muttered hesitantly, his voice becoming strangely low as he tugged at his collar, "can only be activated by a pure maiden of the Saillune Royal Family." At that, all eyes fell on Emilia. She smiled brightly and waved a hand to everyone else, but she seemed somewhat anxious about all that attention being focused on her. Or maybe it was just the humid atmosphere getting to her as well.
"So that is why Dragomir wanted Emilia so badly," I murmured. "Even if he had gotten the statuette — I mean, the Icon of Saillune — Dragomir couldn't have opened the lock himself." I could feel my face getting hot, my fists clenching themselves. "That means that his threat to hurt Emilia was just a bluff!"
"Don't be so surprised, Rina," Judas suddenly snorted. "Besides, what other way were we going to find into the palace grounds?"
Feh. Judas got me once again. Sometimes I didn't think ahead, and somehow I always came out of those situations looking bad. But for now, I concerned myself with the bigger matters and just reminded myself to hand out a nice hefty dose of physical abuse to everyone with a squeaky mallet when we were out of this mess.
"One last question, Your Highness—"
"Just Phil, please."
"Okay, Phil." I swallowed hard. My heart was getting in the way of my swallowing and breathing, and I could feel it fluttering against the top of my throat. I felt like I carried all the butterflies from the past year in my stomach — and trust me, it was a lot of butterflies. I knew the news was not going to be good if it was something that a usurper like Dragomir wanted, but what I feared is that some sort of mega-death-engine-of-apocalyptic-destruction laid dormant beneath Saillune as a last-ditch weapon in case of emergency. That, or something equally heinous — a dark little secret of the Holy Capital. Now that would be a scandal worth millions to the right magazines.
... Who or what has gotten into me? The Hellmaster? That's too much misdeed even for me. And I hate tabloids, anyway. Look what they've done to me.
Now came the million-copper question: "What exactly is sealed inside that vault?"
The air around me seemed to rattle with the anxiety of waiting for the answer. The Lighting spell that Emilio had cast earlier went out as if it was cued for the moment. As if the area had not grown darker, Phil dropped a heavy sigh and began to speak.
"Inside the vault..."
"... Yes?" I hung onto every word as if it was the last thing between me and sudden death. If I did not know better, I would have thought that Phil and I were the only ones in the entire prison complex.
"... resides something... that I am not familiar with."
CRACK. I think I nearly split my head open with the force with which I hit the stony floor. Note: leaning forward on a damp, slippery masonry floor is not a good idea. I felt a gentle nudging on my bare, padless shoulder accompanied by Emilia's soft voice simpering, "Miss Rina? Are you alright? You're bleeding again..."
I yawned once, then I let myself black out on the floor, mentally and physically exhausted to the point of not being able to move. That was enough for one day.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed is that there was pretty much no difference between when I got tossed into the hellhole and when I woke up. Suffice to say, there was no way to tell if it was day or night. The dungeon was every bit as lively as the stories say, complete with a few dim torches to light the darkest and corners in the most impractical ways.
I gave the area the once over and saw that, to my delight, nothing had changed. Everyone was in pretty much the same position as before. One difference that I didn't much care for was that my back ached horribly, as if I'd slept in the shape of an 'S' and twisted my back into a painful contortion that pulled a few muscles and then some. The cell actually wasn't large enough to lie down outstretched in.
As I took my stiff body from the floor and leaned up against the wall, the one surface without uncomfortable steel bars, I and everyone else jumped at once to the harsh sound of a grinding steel door screeching on its hinges. It was ear-grating, to say the least, and at least loud enough to wake Kari with a start.
"Huh?" Kari gawked. "Where am I?"
"The finest resort we could afford in Saillune," I answered sarcastically.
"... It sure smells funny," Kari remarked, scrunching up his nose. He stopped and twisted his head towards the length of hall down to my left; it was from there that the noise of the door opening came, and, sure enough, there were several footsteps that were getting closer. I stood up, not wanting to look feeble before my captors. I scowled, but it was only then that the pain of another cut on my forehead caught me off-guard.
"Ow," I mumbled, and I raised a hand to estimate the size of the wound when a soldier stopped in front of my cell. I acted like he wasn't there, like I was too busy taking care of my own needs to notice his unimpressive stature. Four significantly more threatening people, though, accompanied him in the form of what looked like elite guards. They, too, wore armor, but it was more decorative and, as far as I could tell, enchanted to resist magic. Rather than a chainmail shirt or the like, these guys wore a robe. Their faces were completely obscured by the hoods that went with their mantles. I can't say that the idea of raising hell didn't cross my mind, but these guys gave off a threatening presence. Just as I was sizing up the competition, the normal soldier addressed me.
"Rina Erris," he announced as he unlocked the door to my cell, "The Head Priest wishes to see you in the temple."
Now that was as startling a request as any. I watched the door open, my hands balling up into fists on their own. "Wait a minute," I hissed. "How did you people know my name? And what would Dragomir want with me?"
The soldier smiled unpleasantly, brandishing a length of the same rope that was used to bind my hands on the way into prison. "His Holiness does not confide these matters in lowly soldiers such as myself. But if it comes from Priest Dragomir, then it can only be just. As for your reputation... well, it goes without saying." He chuckled snidely.
Gah. I hate zealots.
"Fine, fine. But can we leave the ropes out of the deal this time? My wrists were killing me last night."
The soldier seemed to consider the idea for a moment. No doubt, he was feeling sorry for a pretty girl like me having to go through all this. Well, that was the reason I gave to myself. The elite guards stood outside in the hall, ominously still and silent. A minute of contemplation went by, and the soldier stepped back.
"Tch. Fine with me. It's not like you can do anything while you're here, anyway," he commented with a laugh. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, biting half of my lower lip to keep myself from saying something that would get me punished.
I'll fight back. It's just a slippery slope from there.
As I took a few steps towards the door of my cell, I also took a few glances at the rest of my cellmates. Kari had this stern look of concern in his green eyes as he watched me leave. Judas and Emilia were exchanging glances and mouthing a few words to each other, probably just as puzzled as I was with what this all meant. The rest of the royal family members were silent — unnaturally silent. That did not do anything to settle my jumpy stomach.
Hic.
I got to see all the scenery I missed while I was out cold the previous night. The exit at the end of the dungeon just so happened to be the only way out from the looks of things. Further inside were just more empty cells waiting to be filled. I walked along the narrow walkways with two of those tough-looking guardsmen in front of me and two of them behind me. The ordinary punk who did all the talking was way out in front, leading the group and on some sort of self-esteem high.
I could almost picture the kind of stories he was gonna tell his drinking buddies when he got off work. "Hey guys! You know what I did today? I totally bossed Rina Erris around! Yeah, I knew it was dangerous, but I wasn't scared. I could take that flat-chest any day!"
"That bastard," I scoffed at the thought, getting a wary glance from the soldier out in front. Our eyes met, and I only gave him a shiny smile. He turned away uneasily, but not before giving me a second fleeting glance.
Unusually, there were no stairs in the prison. As soon as we came to the large steel door that we had heard screaming earlier as it opened, I realized that it was the only thing between the lot of us and fresh air. A few observations pointed out to me the location of a few storerooms adjoined to the hallway that we stood in.
That must be where our gear is stashed.
The door opened to the outside world with the same amount of racket that it caused opening in. It came to rest with a deep clank, and my feet began to guide themselves as I stepped out into a hazy, muggy morning. The fact that I hadn't slept well was still weighing me down, and it didn't get any better even as we reached the temple wherein Dragomir awaited. The two elites stepped out to each side and opened the large wooden double-doors, ushering me in. The normal idiot just stood aside as they did their duty. He gave me one last lopsided smile as I walked in through the door, and just before I stepped out of his sight I gave him the finger.
Clunk. The doors shut tight behind me. I paused for a second to take in the breathtaking architecture of the atrium. As far as I knew, I had entered the temple from the east side, seeing how the sun was behind us when I walked in. Light streamed into the center of the massive cathedral to illuminate a single statue of a colossal dragon looking right down at me.
"Ceiphied," I uttered to myself. It was then that everything went screwy.
First, the lights seemed to fade out and disappear. Then the building, if you'll bear with me, actually seemed to stretch into a deformity until it was unrecognizable. Obviously, this all scared the crap out of me. What would you do if the space around you began to warp wildly all of a sudden?
To a shock too great to really describe, I found myself floating — not standing — in the blue vastness that kept popping up in my dreams. There was no sun, no obvious source of light. Neither was there any way to really determine distance, and it was deceivingly cold. In this emptiness, a sense of extreme loneliness clawed at my heart, driving me to a point of near-panic. As I gazed on helplessly from where I hung suspended in space, I heard my heart beat slowly, much louder than I ever had before.
"My mind is my power."
A voice without a characteristic I could describe rippled through the void. My loneliness vanished, and I felt comfortable for a total time of two seconds before I realized that there was no one close enough — or even present — to say those words.
The next blink of my eyes brought me back to the temple. I was quick to draw in as deep a breath as I could, and I noticed now that the temple was nowhere near as quiet as that desolate sea of nothingness that I had seen.
... W-wait a minute! Sea of Nothingness? Is it... is it possible?
Again there was a shock too great for me to describe fully, but it was as if someone had injected something frozen into my head. It hurt immensely, and I stumbled onto a pew in the worship space where I sat for a few minutes. I wracked my brain relentlessly, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Unfortunately, I wouldn't have much time to go on with it.
"Rina Erris," came out from ahead of me, a soft voice echoing my name against the ornately styled interior of the temple. I looked up expectantly, finding Dragomir standing just askew of the statue of Ceiphied.
"Hmf. Dragomir," I stated with reserved contempt. Standing up, I intended on making eye contact with this 'just' man and sizing him up for myself. "I have a lot of questions for you, priest. You can do me a favor by answering them."
Completely opposite of what I expected Dragomir to do, he only gave me a friendly smile and paced around the statue, maintaining his distance. "Very well. Ask me what you will, Rina."
Heh. Smart man.
"First of all," I started with a bothered tone, "since when were we on a first name basis? No, I worded that wrong. Since when were we on an any name basis? I don't remember coughing up my name to your flunkies."
Dragomir stopped and turned to look at me, his body and crozier remaining where they stood. "You are quite an infamous personality on this continent, Miss Erris. Despite the news of your exploits and misdeeds, as copious as it is, I had no intention of seeking you out. At first, that is."
It was a pretty sketchy explanation to say the least. But powerful priests like Dragomir tend to have a hand in everything, and resources that I probably would rather not know about. So instead of pressing the matter further, I waved my hand dismissively and fired off another question.
"Alright, alright," I started while crossing my arms. "Why is it that you want the statuette — the Icon of Saillune — so much?"
Dragomir's calm expression became almost elated when I asked about his needs of the royal vault. Something is very wrong with this picture.
"Are you familiar with a tome entitled Grimoire Inverse, Rina?"
I furrowed my brow at the mention of that book. I gave one of the stained glass windows an uncomfortable look, half-expecting it to explode into a million pieces with my party jumping in for an all-out brawl to take back control of the kingdom. But my daydream was not to be, and I just shook my head to Dragomir while biting my lip.
It was a lie that I was not familiar with it, of course, but in case he knew something that I didn't, I wanted to hear it. It was a powerful book of sorcery, after all. Allegedly, anyway. I hoped as I looked on that he would get condescending and start dropping hints and clues as to why it's relevant to the current discussion, and where I might find it after I squash his little insurrection here.
I'm so damn clever.
Dragomir predictably raised a brow, face truly skewed with surprise. "That such a powerful sorceress as you are reputed to be knows not of the Grimoire Inverse is quite... shocking."
Hook, line, and sinker, as Dad would say. I shrugged to him, letting him continue uninterrupted. Dragomir turned to the statue of Ceiphied, as if waiting for a sign to inspire him to speak. The way the temple was designed, though, he didn't need to face a direction to make his voice heard from the center.
"To accurately explain the Grimoire Inverse, I must take you back to 200 years ago." He took a breath, and started with a gesture that looked like he was stroking his chin in thought. "Around 200 years ago, at the beginning of the Modern Age, there lived a sorceress by the name of Lina Inverse. You are familiar with Lina Inverse, correct?"
I nodded without hesitation. "Lina Inverse was a powerful sorceress who wielded immense force, great knowledge, and a deep understanding of the nature of sorcery. But Lina's sadistic cruelty and self-centered nature far surpassed even her magical ability," I stated just as the history book I studied from had said. I had my doubts to its accuracy; it seemed biased, what with the book's absolutist tone regarding her. Research on Lina Inverse is forbidden at the Sorcerer's Guild, though, and no other place seems to have any reliable information on her.
For a while now, I've believed that Lina was just an exaggerated legend for that reason. Either that, or she was every bit what the stories said and people were afraid.
"Hm," Dragomir chuckled once. "There you are." Dragomir began pacing once again, his robes always catching up with his body before he took another step. "Lina Inverse supposedly held many secrets that helped her become as powerful a sorceress as she was, secrets that she was not willing to share with the Guild. The Sorcerer's Guild wanted these secrets at any cost, but Lina Inverse was a sorceress so dangerous that even the Guild feared her. It was believed that she kept a record of her research and discoveries until her untimely death from some mysterious illness."
Dragomir stopped pacing as if to emphasize his next statement. "It was safe to assume that the Guild seized upon the opportunity presented by Lina's death to attempt to obtain the Grimoire Inverse, as it came to be called."
That's true. The Guild had its fair share of shifty involvements, this one being the most rumored at the Guildhouses. Naturally, the Guild leaders refuse to talk about any possible wrongdoing on their behalf. Supposedly, according to one historian in Zefielia that I met once, Lina's husband — better known as the Swordsman of Light — protected the Grimoire Inverse from the Guild's seekers. The Swordsman of Light was so-called because his sword was reputedly one that had a blade made of pure light.
That, too, apparently went missing when he did.
"Okay," I said as I flashed a thumbs up in sarcasm. "But what does that have to do with, you know, putting Saillune beneath your boot?"
Dragomir's smile waxed creepy as he spoke. "You can add, Miss Erris. A forgotten vault whose contents no one knows about, and a method of getting in so precise that it could only possibly be done by a virginal daughter of Saillune? This is no simple magic lock, my friend. Something valuable lies under this lock." Dragomir turned away from me, pausing a moment before speaking. "The Grimoire Inverse lies interred within this very vault."
I shook my head quietly. "How can you be so sure of that, huh? It could be a fake, you know. And a kingdom isn't gonna spend a few tons of gold on what sounds like a pain-in-the-ass security system for the sake of one sorceress' research."
"Indeed?" Dragomir posed before continuing. "How can I be, Miss Erris? You know that there is only one way to be sure of something."
Very true, I admitted silently. When the silence came again, I laughed through a sniff. "Is that all? You've taken over a kingdom just for this? You want to get your hands on Lina Inverse's cake recipes?"
"Hm," Dragomir huffed. "Be as insolent as you wish, Miss Erris. But there are many other things to be had within the vault. One of these is also possibly the sword that defeated the Sorcerer's Guild."
I dropped my smug act, cold dew forming on my forehead. I'd heard of the sword he just described, too.
"The Sword of Light?" I asked clumsily. Dragomir turned his head to me and posed another question.
"How can you be sure that there is only one Sword of Light?"
I thought I was ready to explain my reasoning on why there could only be one Sword of Light, but I suddenly found myself catching my own words halfway off my tongue because they didn't jive the second before I spat them out. In the end, I just stilled my mouth and glared off to a side. "I can't be."
"Precisely," Dragomir emanated with an air of smug superiority. I resisted the urge to run up to him and kick him between the legs out of spite while he continued. "As you might know, Lina Inverse was married to the Swordsman of Light. His name was... Gourry Gabriev, I believe."
That moment froze my heart for longer than a surprise should. WHAT? G-Gabriev? It could— it might— could it?
As far as I knew, 'Gabriev' wasn't a very common surname. Anywhere. As fate would have it, my mom's maiden name is Gabriev. But it was strange, because no one seemed to care about her name otherwise. Just the same, I always thought it was strange how nobody seemed to know the Swordsman of Light's real name until now. Now I had more questions about the swordsman than about the treasure itself.
"What's wrong?" Dragomir droned, his tone amused. "You look as if you've seen a ghost..."
My eyes darted around for a second until I smiled knowingly. "Just something I ate."
"But anyhow," Dragomir continued, "after Lina Inverse died, it was the Swordsman of Light, Gourry Gabriev, that repelled all of the Guild's attempts to take the Grimoire Inverse. His sword was said to be impervious to magic, making him all but invincible against even the most powerful mages the Guild could offer up. After a while, Gourry, being the selfless soul he allegedly was, left the Elmekia Empire to take the commotion brought about by his presence away from his family and home."
Dragomir paused and raised a forefinger, tapping his crozier's end against the masonry floor. "Lina Inverse and Gourry Gabriev were supposedly friends of St. Amelia, the last Saillune Queen of the Former Age." He turned to me and began taking slow steps, announcing a word with each methodical stride. "That. Brings. Us. Here..."
Tap. The crozier seemed to echo deeper than the other reverberations in the vast temple. It was safe to say that I was officially freaked out. Dragomir displayed immense knowledge alright. I sensed no deceit from him. His motives still seemed a bit cloudy, though.
Something is very, very wrong here, I thought. I was beginning to feel small in his presence. Then again, I lacked an incredibly important part of myself within these walls: my sorcery. Now, assuming that everything that Dragomir said was true, I only needed to know why he wanted these things.
"Dragomir," I spoke, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. "Just how do you know all this?"
"A fellow priest told me, Miss Erris. He told me many things — why, he even told me about you."
That news made me nervous, alright. "And how did he know all this?"
Dragomir only smiled and shook his head. "I asked him the same question myself. But he insisted it was a secret.'"
Ugh. Stupid shady priests and their secrets. Somehow, though, that doesn't surprise me.
"But he said that I would need you to actually obtain the Grimoire Inverse; Rina Erris, a young sorceress with hair dark as the twilight violet, and eyes as red as the bloody sunset. Such unusual features..." With a sleepy smile, Dragomir turned away from me and began to walk back towards the center of the atrium. "That same priest, at length, told me that you are the descendant of Lina Inverse herself."
To say that I accept revelations like this easily is a lie. There were many suggestions, mainly because of my reputation and Lina's. But would you believe that you're related to someone famous who lived a long time ago without some sort of indelible proof? Yeah, I didn't think so. But now, I saw one way of proving it — the Grimoire. If I managed to get the Grimoire like Dragomir suggested only I could, that would put an end to the controversy.
And this mess.
"Something troubles you, Miss Erris," Dragomir interrupted during the thinking time I was taking. "And I... can sense it. A darkness deep within your soul..."
Gulp.
"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted back, trying to keep the man from disturbing me even further than I already was. "There's one more thing I need to know: what do you intend to do with all this?" I gestured with my arms to the entire temple, basically making it a metaphor for Saillune.
Dragomir chuckled, but it wasn't even close to friendly. I gulped and took a few steps back to the entrance. With an oddly rueful voice, Dragomir proceeded to explain himself. "The royals have no place here anymore. Under their leadership, Saillune was misled and complacent in its mission of 'justice.' Once I make them disappear, I shall continue on to Ralteague. Kalmaart. The Alliance. Elmekia. Dils. Zefielia..."
Yup. World domination. I put my face to my palm in my mind. I kept still outwardly.
"... Finally, the mighty Lyzeille Empire. I shall use these artifacts to unite all of humanity for a single purpose, Miss Erris."
I waited for the answer, but he didn't say it on his own. Tired of stroking his ego by acting interested in his evil plans, I sighed. "And what is that, mighty priest?"
Dragomir craned his head to show an amused smile on his face. "Such sarcasm. Tell me, Miss Erris — what do you think a priest wants the most out of his services?"
I dunno. Fame? Power? Glory? You tell me, holy one.
"... To annihilate the darkness that plagues our world, Miss Erris. All of this—" Dragomir paused to gesture out towards the statue of Ceiphied before him. "—all of this is for that one purpose of serving the greater good. And I... I intend on uniting all of this Continent to finally destroy the Demon King of the North."
"The Demon King?" That made it official — Dragomir was off his rocker, and clearly a foreigner. King Dils tried that some eight hundred years ago, but he failed. The grisly accounts of the fate that befell the King of Dils for his opposition to the Demon King of the North are multiple and graphic. Believe me, Dragomir's plan was a nightmare scenario waiting to happen. Specifically, it was a nightmare scenario that I planned on not becoming a part of.
"Forget it, then," I snarled to Dragomir. "I'm not gonna help you with your elaborate suicide plan. Leave me — us — out of it."
"Worry not," he commented with a smile, walking away from me. "I shall leave you out of it, once I have Saillune's artifacts in my hands."
Dragomir's presence vanished behind the statue of Ceiphied. The voice in the back of my head, my intuition, told me to chase. I had too many questions unanswered, so I did — I took off in a sprint for the space behind the looming likeness of Ceiphied, the Flare Dragon. My heart raced unnaturally, and I realized that there was a strong feeling of urgency and danger that had taken ahold of me. But as I reached my goal, one of the elites appeared from the darkness of the corridor that laid ahead. I stopped, taking a step back. But as I darted my eyes to another route, I saw another one of the elite guards blocking my way. I turned, and there were the other two.
They appeared... without using the door. Something told me that I didn't stand a chance against them in a fight right now. Surrounded, I put my hands up in surrender.
Just when I thought it was all clear, Dragomir's voice boomed through the cathedral from somewhere that I couldn't see.
"If you resist my rule, young Rina, then I can only assume that you are tragically in league with the Demon King, Ruby-Eye Shabranigdu. Do realize... that I cannot be dissuaded in this, my mission."
I kept quiet. The nausea that had formed in my stomach was too much to let me speak.
