Deluge

by MirroredShalott

In the aftermath of Dracula's death, Shanoa finds herself locked in a grief-stricken struggle between what she is and who she wants to become. She takes refuge in Wygol, and a blossoming friendship gives way to a journey that will change her life forever. But as they begin to confront the past one truth makes itself evident: some demons can't be buried. [final version]

38. Aurelia - Part One

Author's Note: Apologies for the delay in releasing this chapter. Earlier this month I had just about two entire chapters all ready to go, before the creative team and I had a good discussion and determined I'd gone in the wrong direction with the narrative. So, I had to scrap about 90% of what I had and start over from there. This still clocks in at 15k words, though, so more than enough to count as a sizable update.

This was also one of the most difficult chapters for me to write because of the tricky subject matter. BE WARNED: this chapter is very dark and touches upon the many different warped aspects inherent to cults, including abuse and a skewed sense of morality. I've done my best to present such topics in a non-exploitative manner, but I wanted to include a general content warning all the same.

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Chapter Thirty-Eight

Aurelia – Part One

Aurelia would never forget the first time she took a human life.

It happened three years into her tenure as Ecclesia's Shadow under Master Ephraim's command. Ephraim proved himself to be an excellent teacher. A far cry from her uncle, who approached his craft with the utmost in rigor and discipline, Ephraim was far more forgiving. He accepted failure as an inevitability to be built upon with encouragement and praise rather than beaten out of her. Aurelia had a difficult time adjusting, at first, but soon found herself thriving under his instruction.

Perhaps the most useful of his lessons, however, were the ones concerning people. While Aurelia had watched the acolytes, studying their social intricacies throughout her life spent hidden in the darkness, she lacked the proper context in which to apply the knowledge. Ephraim had her study the human mind, the makeup of psychology, what inspired others and drove them to feats of both supposed good and pure madness. He took her with him on excursions outside the fortress. Into pockets of civilization filled with humans of varying designs. She would watch him work from within Inertia. His conversations and battles; followed missions from beginning to end while never leaving the cold comfort of her blessed shadows.

There was much to be gained from those outings. The lessons he imparted by literal example. Above all, she learned how to read an individual, the small physical tells, and twist that to her own advantage. Watched him extract secrets from people who were at first unwilling to say more than a quick greeting. Saw how feeble the wayward human's ego was; how pliable. Feed that weakness, Ephraim would say, and you could have their souls.

More than two years passed after her initial assignment before he let her go on solo missions. Her first few were, shockingly, uneventful. Basic intel gathering which played into a larger scheme Ephraim would conclude himself. None of them required her to kill, yet, but it would come in time. She wasn't eager to kill, nor did she dread it. Her feelings on death were better described as complacent. They always had been. Death was an intrinsic part of life, and a necessary tool to enable the ascension of human vessels. Only through death could a rampant human – fueled to malevolent deeds by Chaos – be brought to salvation in the arms of their Dark Lord, and Aurelia was honored to be a hand so chosen to aid those less fortunate souls.

Aurelia remembered the mission itself clearly. It was her fourth solo expedition and not long after she'd turned eighteen. He'd tasked her with tracking down the location of a Devil that had escaped a dimensional tear. Once successful, they could finalize their plans to slay the beast and burn the remains. They'd narrowed it down to a nameless village, but Ephraim suspected the locals knew – whether they realized it or not – where the Devil had made its nest.

She'd entered the town a little past noon. The sunlight burned bright with few clouds in the sky. She wore plain women's traveling clothes and her protective cloak. The outfit a necessity to blend in but aggravating regarding the skirt of her dress. Ephraim had allowed her to cut a slit up the side, though there was still too much cloth hindering her movements. Still, he insisted their female field agents were able to adjust fine. Enough to where they could fight while so restricted. Aurelia accepted the reasoning without argument. There were worse things to endure.

Hours passed as she made her rounds in the market, traveling between the various stores and merchant stalls searching for anyone who carried hints as to where the beast might lay. The tavern would be her best bet when evening fell, but at the moment the building was empty, its patrons still at work. The townsfolk grew more interested in her as the day wore on. They tried their best to keep their stares hidden, only looking at Aurelia when her back was turned or averting their gaze when she swept the crowd, but they couldn't evade her notice. She could see, somewhat, through Inertia, so long as she maintained physical connection to a shadow. This Dark-aided sight was enough to make out the location of things. Where people stood, which way they were turned. More and more people gathered in groups behind her the longer she remained in town. Their heads bowed towards each other, and she knew they were talking about her.

Aurelia, in truth, cared little for gossip. What these people said about her didn't matter, though it did make her feel more exposed. She knew well enough what people thought of albinos. The stares were something she'd had to endure on each solo mission. Aurelia wondered if some manner of disguise was called for, perhaps make-up to hide the pigment of the skin on her exposed face when she had to pull back the hood of her cloak when conversing. Ephraim shrugged it off as being too much work for too little reward, and she never sought to second guess his judgment.

The last merchant on her list was the fletcher. He had his own shop, a smaller building but clean and smelled new. He was wary of her, his eyes flicked across her exposed flesh on occasion, but he was still open to conversation. They spoke for about half an hour, and at length he loosened up enough to reveal he was a game hunter. Would bag pheasants and local birds for their meat and feathers. He'd seen something beastly in the nearby woods, a large, monstrous shape, that bellowed a fierce cry when his dog got too close. He'd fled back to town but was able to divulge the exact location on her map. Aurelia thanked the man and left after buying a few bundles of arrows. The man deserved some compensation for being so amenable. If she ever returned it would work in her favor.

The Sun was setting as she left the fletchers. Soon people would begin filing into the tavern for their nightly drink, but Aurelia decided to forgo waiting. The fletcher had told her enough to move the investigation forward. If she could track the Devil to its lair, then they could launch the final phase of this mission as soon as tomorrow.

Aurelia followed her map, heading out of town and onto one of the nearby hunting trails. She kept up her contact with Inertia as she left. A precaution in case she was followed. It wasn't long after she ducked into the nearby woodland when she was alerted to bodies moving in the brush to her left. Far enough away to be hidden by the foliage, but within eyeshot of the trail. Aurelia didn't turn her head. Gave no indication she knew of their presence. She pressed forward, towards her destination, a slew of spells alighted in her palms, ready.

She reached the place indicated on her map. A small natural clearing where the underbrush gave way and the trees stood further apart. Aurelia took note of the shadows present here. There were many, the long bands cast by the setting Sun against the trunks of trees. She made sure to always keep some part of her body connected to one. Even just the tip of a finger or the heel of her foot. She walked to the center of the clearing and knelt, eyes upon the ground, as though she was studying it for tracks. Her senses remained within Inertia, however, watching the bodies as they moved closer, encircled her rear. There was no doubt they were following her, and she waited, making faux busy, as they prepared their approach.

After a few, long minutes, the bodies moved in. There were four of them in total. A small band, though enough for them to surmise she was outnumbered if they, in fact, came here for a fight. They arguably surpassed her in physical brawn, but not might. Still, she would only respond as the situation called for. Aurelia waited until they reached the border of the clearing before she stood upright and turned, eyes on the intruders.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a strong, clear voice.

They were, as she suspected, a group of four men. Local, she recognized a couple from the market crowds, but one man stood out. He was the butcher she'd greeted in passing a few hours before. He was as tall as she, burly, with a full beard and shaved head. They all carried some manner of makeshift weapon with them. The butcher a meat cleaver, one of the men an old sword, another a pike, and the last a bow and arrows. She had a fleeting moment of confusion why the archer, of all people, would come in for close combat, before she remembered these men had probably never seen actual combat.

"That depends," the butcher said. He stepped forward, separating from the group, enough to distinguish himself as the probable leader. "Who're you? I don't remember seeing your face around here before. And I'd remember if I did."

"I'm a traveler," she said in the same unyielding tone. The force of which she'd hoped would incite them to flee, but – deep down – knew it wouldn't.

"You're asking a lot of questions for someone just passing through," the butcher said. "Besides, it's a bit odd, don't you think? A young woman, alone, out on the road? With nothing to defend herself?"

"I take care of myself just fine," Aurelia said.

"I bet you do." The butcher paused; his dark eyes narrowed. "You a witch?"

"No," she said without missing a beat. Still, she gave some silent credit to his overwhelming gall.

"Strange woman comes out of the woods all by herself and she's not a witch?" The butcher scoffed. "Don't rightly think so. Not when they look like you. Not… normal." He pointed at her with the meat cleaver. "I think we got proper cause to be suspicious."

Aurelia met his gaze; unwavering as she stared into him. "I have no quarrel with you."

He shook his head. "You made one, when you started snooping around with magic."

"Yet you haven't seen me cast any spells."

"Don't have to." His eyes scanned her body, an assessment. "I've heard the stories. All albinos are born with a bit of magic in them. I know what you are, witch."

The butcher's companions all raised their weapons and took a few, threatening steps forward. Aurelia didn't flinch. She didn't back down. She gazed into their eyes, each in turn, and assessed their fleeting existence. She had caused them no pain. No ill will, but to them her very existence was an affront. A thing to be rendered with disdain.

Aurelia knew then. These were the same breed of men who called out to her Lord for salvation from their own instinctual Chaos. Who bade him rise with each passing century. How pitiful their creation in this moment. To throw their lives away on such a fruitless battle when they had a much larger role to play in the makeup of the universe. She would kill them, Aurelia realized, lead them to ascension, and she would bear no guilt in doing so.

"Very well," she said with a soft sigh. "I'll leave once I'm done here, and then I promise you'll never see me again."

"It's too late for that," the butcher said. "We're going to put a stop to your magic, one and for all."

There was resolution in his face. She couldn't tell if he'd killed before but knew – regardless – he'd commit the deed here.

"So quick to resort to murder," Aurelia said, more to herself than to him.

Still, he responded.

"No, murder is what you call it when you kill a person, and you." He raised the cleaver and shifted into what he appeared to think was a battle-ready stance. "You're not human."

The other three men followed his lead. Their form sloppy and almost comical. Aurelia suppressed the urge to laugh, but allowed herself a small, gleeful smile.

"You're right," she said; tone light and airy, "I'm not."

"Then you admit it."

"I admit only that I see you for what you truly are." Aurelia held out her hands to either side. "Simple heralds for our glorious Lord."

The men looked at her in confusion.

"What lord?" the one wielding the pike asked.

Aurelia continued to smile as she gathered the mana within her outstretched limbs. "The one you cry for. For whom you yearn. You are yet ignorant to your own desires, but I shall show you the way." She looked upon them, not with pity, but excitement. "And blessed shall be your path."

It was over in a few, short moments. For as many beasts she'd killed, Aurelia didn't like to dwell on the act itself. They were always messy affairs; undignified for everyone involved. Still, this first venture in human ascension was a clean execution. A good base for her to build on. Aurelia hadn't waited for the men to respond. She dove into the shadow – connected at her left leg – entering Inertia.

All things subsided within Inertia. No matter moved. No sensation lingered. One could lose all sense of their physical form, existing only as the base neurons patchworked together inside what had once been a head. This place could kill without the proper fortitude. A dimension of wrongness which spurned the traditional reality. Because Inertia was not a material, spiritual, or even ethereal plane. It toed the line crossing all three, and yet – for all rules of logic that said no human should ever be here – it was the only place Aurelia felt at home.

This was place she went when venturing into shadows. It offered a sort of cold comfort. One she'd be unable to describe in words. Nothing could touch her here; no one could reach her. The solitude was an absolute extending eternal in all directions. She could watch the world from this perch. Listen to sound if she so chose, but all reality was forced to bow to her whim. If she wanted to feel, she deigned it. If she wished a cessation of all things, so she willed. A woman of such limitations within the mortal world, yet here? She was a goddess.

And then, surrounded by the comfort of overwhelming purpose, she began doing the Lord's work.

She impaled the three quieter men. Aurelia moved within Inertia, around to their rear, and threw an ice spear from each hand. One lanced the archer's neck, severing his brain stem and spinal cord. Blood spurted around the wound, though despite the ruptured artery the presence of the spear tamped the flow. The second spear had emerged from Inertia with far more force than she'd intended. A loud, explosive sound accompanied the spear's entrance into the physical realm. There was enough speed behind it to drive the weapon through the sword-wielder's abdomen and deep into the stomach of the man with the pike. The swordsman fell to his knees, clawing at the gaping hole in his torso, but within moments he collapsed fully.

The pike bearer was pinned to the trunk of a nearby tree. Held secure by the spear protruding from his gut. He stared down at it, coughed up blood, his mind attempting to process in those final moments the mysterious circumstances by which he was dying. Aurelia decided against dismissing the spear just then. She needed to keep him in place for now.

The butcher whirled around, only to find his friends already on the path towards ascension. He gaped at the carnage; pure, unadulterated horror etched on his face. A strange notion, Aurelia thought, for a butcher – so accustomed to animal dismemberment – would be so moved by the same violence but in human design. It mattered little. His ascension was immediate. She left Inertia, emerging from a shadow lying directly behind him, and summoned Melio Secare into her hands.

Aurelia was still growing used to manifesting the Glyph. She was much taller now, stronger, but the Glyph had a material weight to it, sometimes making it too cumbersome to wield. She felt it was appropriate here. The site of her first kill. Her uncle's weapon guiding her hand now as it had throughout her entire life. She swung in a long arc. The blade aimed at the side of the butcher's neck, and in the same fell swoop she decapitated him.

Blood splattered on her clothes, sullying them. Aurelia grimaced and dismissed both the Glyph and the icicle spear to which the pike-wielding man still clutched. All bodies fell away; to the ground; to the fragrant earth. She stood over them for a long moment, reverent, alighted in the ascension of these nameless men. Aurelia pondered burying them for a moment, before deciding against it in the same half second. They weren't there anymore. The vacant corpses nothing more than carrion food. Besides, if they were discovered the villagers might have some desire to perform the ceremony themselves. Find closure in whatever time remained before they all ascended to their same Lord. Satisfied, she turned, her eyes upon the forest floor, as she searched for signs of the Devil's coming.

It took a few minutes for her to find the tracks. She followed them, in the ever-darkening air, to a gorge hidden within the wilderness. She smelled the rot emanating from deep within the crevice. Saw the movement of some large monstrosity at the bottom, and knew she'd found her quarry. Her task finished, Aurelia withdrew the remaining red talisman and tore it.

The transversal was unpleasant, yet tolerable. She appeared within her master's office, standing before the closed door to the hallway outside. She looked around; the room was lit by cluster of large burning oil lamps. Bookcases lined the rear and right walls. Filled with volumes of books, rolled up parchment, and – most of all – labeled filing cases. Massive windows took up the left wall, though the only view was the leafy canopy of the surrounding forest, growing dimmer with every minute in the waning sunlight.

There was a large table in the center of the room, covered by a gigantic map of Romania. Tokens, statues, flags, and other assorted markers were placed atop it in strategic positions. The far wall was covered in yet more maps. These ones placed in frames or mounted upon wood and metal. Directly across from her, on the opposite side of what she long ago uncreatively dubbed the "map table", was a sizeable oak desk. Master Ephraim was sitting at it, in a plush leather chair, and he looked up at her sudden entry.

Aurelia's eyes lingered on the older man as he stood. Ephraim had an odd, egotistical charm to him. Helped in part by the fact he was rather pleasant to look at. His black hair was cut shoulder-length and kept well groomed. He had a short, trimmed beard and piercing blue eyes. There was, perhaps, some of Barlowe in him, in the shape of his face and brows. What stood out the most, however, was his clothing. Tailored suit pants, dark vest, and white collared shirt. A far cry from the uniforms the acolytes were required to wear, though no more unusual than the heavy cloak covering her own body.

He took stock of the blood splattered on her face and clothes. A look of concern flashed across Ephraim's face before he schooled his expression into one closer to neutrality. She repressed the urge to comment on his shift in demeanor. Sometimes he could still get carried away in the mentor role. In being the strong lead for her to follow.

"I take it that's not your blood or you'd be dead," he said after a moment. His gaze met hers. "Tell me what happened."

She divulged the details of the failed mob murder and how she killed her attackers, not sparing Ephraim the more gruesome parts. He nodded with satisfaction once she'd finished.

"You did well. Those men deserved to die for their boldness." He studied her face; searching for something that went unsaid. "But it was your first human kill, right? And not only one, but four of them. A daunting task for anyone to face. How do you feel?"

Aurelia gave him her equivalent of a quizzical look. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious. Besides, I'm your Master and Elder. I'm supposed to be charting your progress."

"What is there to feel?" Aurelia said with a shrug. "They were wicked men, tainted by Chaos, and now they've ascended into the Lord's arms. Serving him as they always wanted. I suppose, if anything, I feel a sense of satisfaction. I've done my duty as ordained."

Ephraim smiled, pleased by her response, as he rounded the desk and walked up to her.

"That's my good girl," he said in a voice swelling with pride and another, more primal emotion. When he reached his protégé, Ephraim cradled her face in his hands and pulled her roughly into a kiss.

Aurelia kissed him back, moving against him, both heedless of the fresh blood coating her flesh and clothes. They'd been together for two years, now. An odd couple, what with Ephraim being twenty years her senior, but the man knew her better than anyone – in ways even her uncle failed to understand. Ephraim was the one who'd seen the true potential in her abilities and brought them out in her training. Furthermore, Ephraim understood Darkness the way she did. While he couldn't enter Inertia, he could command shadows to his will. Their powers a perfect compliment to each other. They were meant to be, he'd insisted when he first courted her, and Aurelia had so far found no fault in his logic. While Torey didn't approve of their relationship (he'd used no shortage of expletives when he found out, insisting it was inappropriate and challenging Ephraim to a duel that Barlowe himself had to put a stop to) Aurelia had long since stopped caring about her uncle's opinion on the matter. Ephraim was her beloved, and she intended to stay by his side until it was time for their own ascension into Lord Dracula's embrace.

Ephraim pulled away after a time, before the kiss could grow too fervent. Aurelia glanced down and noticed he'd gotten blood smeared all over his white lapels. She chuckled, her lips curving into a soft smile at the sight.

"Seems I've ruined your shirt," she said in a slight teasing tone. For all her emotional ardor she still made a habit of maintaining a controlled exterior, even in Ephraim's presence. She didn't want to get in the habit of letting herself go in any capacity.

He flashed her a cocky grin. "Worth it."

Ephraim guided her over to the map table. The tokens laid out representative of the current targets he was tracking across the Carpathians. He handed Aurelia a painted wooden idol carved in a shape similar to the Devil she'd tracked.

"Show me what you found," he said.

She located the village on the map, noted the topography, and placed the idol where she'd heard it bellowing in the ravine.

"Good," Ephraim said with a nod, "we should be able to corner it in in the lowland. We'll discuss the best plan of attack before I send you in to eradicate it. Expect to be out again by the end of this week, at the latest."

"Yes, sir," Aurelia said.

"But I have a new mission for you first." Ephraim paused as she turned to face him. "The girl, Shanoa, came of age last night. Her Trial has been set for tomorrow."

"That was fast. Barlowe must be eager."

"She's the last child and, subsequently, our last chance at finding the Blade within our current ranks. If it's not her then we'll have to re-strategize. Upend everything we thought we knew about what the Vessel wants."

Aurelia pondered the ever-changing role of children in Ecclesia. After her failure to ascend to Blade, the few remaining ignorant children were all raised in the darkness of forced naivety. Not knowing the identity of their true Lord – the one whom Ecclesia pledged its allegiance to – until all family members passed their Trial. Barlowe surmised that if purity of blood was not the sole key then perhaps purity of spirit was also required. The change in strategy had yet to produce a Blade, with the young siblings Albus and Shanoa the last holdouts who were unaware of the true virtue in Ecclesia's mission. How they would lead mankind into higher ascension and not simply prolong the inevitable downward spiral.

"Do you think there's a chance?" Aurelia asked, more out of curiosity to know where he stood than genuine hope.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "Shanoa is of impure breeding, tainted by the Chaos in her blood. Not even the purity of her mind can overcome this inherent flaw. She will fail like all the rest." He leveled his gaze at Aurelia. "What do you think?"

"I… agree," she said after a moment.

"You sound hesitant, my dear. I'm surprised, though I suppose you are still upset about the outcome of your own Trial."

Even after all these years, to hear it mentioned out loud stung at Aurelia's heart, but she would never admit it to anyone, including Ephraim.

"I've grown since then," she said, "and my natural abilities serve Ecclesia well. I make sure to be valuable, even if it's not in serving as Blade."

"But it was such a loss. We all felt it." Ephraim took a step forward and cradled her face in his hands again, a gentleness in his touch as he stared into her. "I felt it."

Her heart continued to burn but she offered him a small smile. "It's done, no need to continue to mourn."

It was one of the biggest lies she'd ever told. She knew she'd carry the hurt with her, always, but she pushed it down again, burying it. Pain served no purpose, existing only as a weakness. The draught her uncle made her drink during training taught her that much.

"How precious you are," Ephraim said in a soft, possessive voice. The same tone and inflection he displayed when first courting her. It still sent a thrill through Aurelia when she heard it. "To be so strong, all for your family's sake."

He leaned forward and kissed her again. This kiss was deeper, more insistent, and she parted her lips to meet his tongue. The moment stretched as they basked in each other, Aurelia taking the solace from his touch she couldn't ask for out loud. When the mutual need for air broke them apart Ephraim stepped back, clearing his throat as he forced himself to reassume the role of mentor as opposed to ardent lover.

"Shanoa's Trial starts at noon," he said. "You're to already be in the Council Chamber when she arrives, per Barlowe's orders. Stay in the shadows. He was insistent you're not to be seen."

"Understood," she said with a nod. Aurelia paused a moment. "Will I see you tonight?" she asked in a hopeful voice.

"No, I have my own Trial preparations to attend to." He offered a warm smile. "Besides, you need a bath and some rest after the long day you've had."

"Yes, of course," Aurelia said, making sure to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Still, despite her efforts, he must have seen something in her eyes to alert him to her feelings. He reached out and caressed her cheek, a reverence in his touch.

"Patience, my dear," he said. "Once the ceremony is over and the Devil lies dead, I will come for you."

She turned and kissed the inside of his palm. "I'll wait eagerly until then."

Dismissed, Aurelia left through the office's main door. Once out into the empty hallway, she dove into a nearby shadow, entering her precious Inertia. She flowed through the fortress, traversing from shadow to shadow as she went, never exiting the immobile Dark plane as she headed towards her private chambers. Her mind lingered on Shanoa as she drifted through the halls. She'd never given the child much thought. Her existence was only remarkable in the fact that she was allowed to be here, as an acolyte under Ecclesia's helm. All members within the Order came from specially ordained bloodlines. The rare few humans Master Barlowe discovered who had no trace of Chaos in their blood. No ties to the curse which plagued humanity, and here – within the fortress – these gifted souls used their purity of body to help save a damned species. Ecclesia served, in the utmost respect.

But Shanoa, the wayward orphan, lacked this physical purity, having come from a bloodline steeped in sin. The boy, Albus, shared a similar corrupted origin, but Barlowe himself had authorized their induction as a favor to Ecclesia's benefactor, and the truth of their tainted parentage known to but a select few. Aurelia had overseen Albus' Trial, which had passed without any fanfare. She knew his adopted sister's ceremony wouldn't be any different.

Aurelia considered the Vessel. Allowed herself to dredge up the memory of it from her own Trial. The effigy had felt wrong beneath her hands. An entity that shouldn't exist. She knew well the makeup of creatures who defied reality; became one herself, at will. The Vessel was not a product of Inertia but came from a similar unnatural origin. One which recognized her in kind and spurned her touch. No, the Vessel was particular. It desired something Ecclesia couldn't give.

Shanoa would not be enough to appease its appetites. No one would be.

Especially not Aurelia.

IXI

- The Trial -

Aurelia watched the outside world from her stoic perch inside Inertia. She'd arrived at the council chamber's inner sanctum long before the given deadline. Today was a momentous – if predictable – occasion, and she was steadfast in her resolve to follow Barlowe's summons to the letter. He came into the chamber first, looking for her amidst the shadows, and she'd revealed her hand for a moment to let him know of her presence before submerging fully once again. Her master satisfied, she moved to the forbidden room, where the Vessel was housed, to wait.

In time, the doors opened and Ecclesia's Elders entered with their usual fanfare. Aurelia's eyes didn't linger on the men, though. Her attention fixed at once on the timid, black-haired girl they ushered inside. Shanoa was all wide eyes and shaking limbs. Terrified beyond belief, based on Aurelia's observations, though such emotional displays were unsurprising of children undergoing this ritual. Still, the sight was almost pitiful, despite the wretched feeling it birthed in Aurelia's stomach. She never understood why people – children especially – were so carefree with their emotions, revealing them for all to see. Emotions were sacred, powerful things. You never let anyone know the full breadth of them lest they use their might against you. Her uncle had instilled that lesson well, and Ephraim's training at subterfuge solidified her resolve, but Shanoa?

She was so weak.

But soon the child's weakness would be set in stone. When the Vessel stood inert.

Once everyone had taken their places, the Elders in a circle around the Vessel and Shanoa standing before it, the ceremony began. Barlowe gave his speech, his instructions, but Aurelia only half-listened, bored by the familiarity of it all. She was more curious to see the aftermath. What new strategy would Barlowe devise in their tireless hunt for a Blade? The man was a genius, Aurelia never questioned his methodology, but she was at a loss as to where they could look next. Would new acolytes be brought in to present themselves before the Vessel? Or would the Elders try to instill the power of the Blade into an inanimate object or weapon as opposed to an actual person?

Her traitorous mind drifted to her uncle's words after her Trial. As they mourned together in the wake of her rejection.

"Why did you think I was the Blade?" Aurelia asked with the hint of tears in her eyes. "What was your proof?"

Torey let out a long, weary sigh. "You are an albino. A sign of purity, not evil. White, unblemished, shunning the light for the illuminating Dark. Your natural link to the same shadows Dracula walks. There was never a doubt in my mind. You were what the Vessel wanted." He hung his head. "Maybe it was pride. I still don't know who else it could be."

They had been so sure of her viability. All the evidence lined up with what the Vessel foretold, and yet she wasn't chosen. Not for the first time, Aurelia wondered if the Vessel's message was a lie. If perhaps Barlowe had been led astray…

But that thought bordered on heresy, and she would have none of it.

A commotion drew her attention. Shanoa – without warning – lurched backwards, away from the Vessel, pure terror etched upon her face. Aurelia watched her in confusion for a moment.

Then she felt it.

There was a palpable shift of energy in the room, felt even within Inertia. The stirring of something yet unnamed, brought to life where there should have been nothing but stillness. The wretched feeling in Aurelia's stomach grew more intense as Barlowe barked an order for Shanoa to return to her previous position. The girl trembled, but obeyed, placing her hands back upon the bastion of black stone. Aurelia eyes narrowed upon them, the girl and the effigy, as she tried to discern the origin of the energy swirling in the air.

Because it couldn't be…

She swore she heard a low bellow rumble in the air as the Vessel responded to Shanoa's touch. Aurelia watched it all from her perch within Inertia. The runes glowing with a bright light, the energy cracking around the frozen girl, the white, ethereal spears that formed above her head. The spears pierced Shanoa's flesh, marking her, and the sound of the girl's screaming echoed off the chamber walls. A sound which rent Aurelia's heart for the truth of what it meant.

But it didn't make sense. Shanoa was nothing. A human corrupted by Chaos. The last in Ecclesia for a reason. This wasn't what the Vessel told Barlowe it wanted, yet here it was, defying the declarations of its own prophecy. When the spears faded away, dissipating from within Shanoa's flesh, Aurelia first saw the tattoos imprinted upon her flesh, inscribed with the same runes etched upon the face of the Vessel. Marking her for all to see.

And there was no denying it.

Shanoa was Ecclesia's Blade.

A flurry of emotions burned in Aurelia's heart. A cogent combination of anger, jealousy, and betrayal. For a fleeting moment she wanted to leap from Inertia and challenge the girl. Summon Melio Secare and demand a warrior's test. It wasn't supposed to be her. The title was Aurelia's. Yes, she still wanted it, had always wanted it. She'd been raised for this purpose. Was born in signs that pointed to assured greatness. So why had the Vessel chosen someone less? What did Shanoa have that she lacked?

Aurelia questioned everything in those moments of stillness, as everyone present took stock of what this meant. The world no longer made sense to her. Rules of logic could be bent and broken and to hell with anyone harmed in the process. She tried to ponder – filled with emotional turmoil – what manner of creature made the Vessel. Its origins, its motives.

Lord, her jealous want was fervent, near violent in its grip. A desire beyond herself in its sheer power. Those brands should have been hers. They should have–

The Elders were chanting in unison, praising the coming of their newborn Blade. Aurelia couldn't bear to hear it. She'd obeyed Barlowe's orders, observed the ritual, she wouldn't be ignoring orders by leaving. So, she fled, staying within Inertia as she exited the council chamber and traversed into the nearby stairwell, heading down, as far away from the accursed effigy as she could.

Inertia offered its usual comfort. She couldn't cry here, even if she wanted to. The limitation a blessing in its own right.

The questions remained, though, screaming internal as she went. Why wasn't she good enough? For her murderous parents. For the traitorous Vessel. For the honor of Ecclesia's Blade.

It was too much to bear. So, Aurelia did the only sensible thing. The same tactic she used every time emotions overwhelmed her.

She buried it.

IXI

- The Following Day -

Uncle Torey informed her of Barlowe's summons during their shared, private dinner. Aurelia never took meals in Ecclesia's dining hall, needing to keep her existence hidden from the other acolytes on account of the secrecy inherent in her role. The isolation was familiar to her, though. She'd grown up in seclusion, the plan was to reveal her to Ecclesia's members only after she'd ascended to Blade. Aurelia had spent most of her childhood watching the other acolytes from within Inertia. Even now, only the Elders were aware of her presence within the fortress, and she could not refuse a summons from any of them – Barlowe most of all.

She left once dinner was concluded, traveling through Ecclesia's halls while submerged within Inertia. There was a guard posted outside the door to Barlowe's chambers, but she passed him with ease, traversing through the shadow underneath the closed door and into the room beyond.

Aurelia had been inside Barlowe's quarters once before, when she was informed of her promotion to Ecclesia's Shadow. The drawing room looked the same as she remembered, and she located Barlowe sitting in a plush armchair before the stone fireplace, a blaze burning in its hearth. She moved to a shadow cast by a nearby bookcase, within his line of sight, and signaled her presence by a lone, pale hand appearing inside the patch of darkness. Barlowe's eyes cut to her at the motion.

"Emerge," he said in a commanding voice.

She acquiesced at once, pulling herself into the room. He watched as the tar fell away from her body and shed into nothingness. Aurelia took stock of her highest Master. Barlowe looked haggard, the lines of his face etched deep grooves into his skin and puffy bags lay under his eyes. It was apparent he hadn't gotten much – if any – sleep the night before. There was a glass held in his hand containing an amber liquid Aurelia knew, without having to smell it, was an alcoholic beverage. All vices were frowned upon in Ecclesia, alcohol consumption being one of them, but if anyone was allowed to partake in a moment of need it was Barlowe. He had the right.

"Sir," she said with a nod as she stood at attention before him.

A silence passed between them as Barlowe's eyes roamed over her body, making an assessment.

"Take a seat, Aurelia," he said, gesturing to the couch across from him.

She obeyed the order, sitting rigid with her spine held straight. Another silence followed as Barlowe took a few, long drinks from his glass. Aurelia made no sound or movement, waiting with endless patience for her Master to address her.

"I have a question for you, child," he said at last. "And I expect an honest answer."

"Of course," she said, not that she could deny him. If he told her to fall upon her sword she would without hesitation.

"You're a stalwart ally. One of Ecclesia's staunchest supporters, but I must ask – after witnessing this last Trial – have you begun to doubt?"

The question caught her off guard. "Sir?"

"The Vessel chose someone who lacks purity. Who is sullied by the Chaos of this world." He took another sip of his drink. "A choice which goes against the prophecy we long since taught you. The tenets I've built my entire organization upon. So, I must ask, in the face of such a grand disparity between the truth and my teachings, do you have any doubts to the veracity of Ecclesia's mission?"

"No, never," Aurelia said immediately with some insistence. "Prophecies are often vague and filled with half-truths. I do not fault any of us for reading the signs wrong. What matters is we continue to strive towards humanity's ascension. So long as we don't waver from that goal I will never doubt." She allowed the ghost of a smile to appear in the corners of her mouth, the display more to assuage her Master than out of any genuine emotion she felt. "Besides, fate is a capricious mistress, and works in mysterious ways, I'm told."

Barlowe made a gruff sound. "Never settle for that sentiment. When things don't go as expected, always look for the answer."

Another silence passed between them in the wake of his words. Obviously, her last comment hadn't been to his satisfaction, and she was hesitant to voice another wrong opinion. Still, she knew he was waiting for her to speak.

"I am glad, however, that we finally have a Blade," she said at length.

"But who could have known it would be Shanoa, the corrupt bastard," Barlowe said with a shake of his head. "I thought I knew what the Vessel wanted, but that accursed effigy… what a fickle beast, unpredictable and prone to its own wiles. Mark my words, it will rue the day it sought to make a fool out of me."

He paused to take a few more drinks from his glass. Aurelia waited with endless patience from her perch upon the couch.

"Shanoa starts her training under your uncle tomorrow," Barlowe continued after about a minute had passed. "My plan is to keep her isolated from the other acolytes and maintain both her and Albus' ignorance of Ecclesia's allegiance with Lord Dracula and the truth of humanity's Chaotic design. This will ensure her continued purity of mind, and that untainted essence will ultimately work in our favor. But I will need eyes on her always to ensure total compliance from all parties. Shanoa is obedient, thank the Lord, but I would have you watch her as you did the Elders. Follow the girl from within your shadows, keep her safe and contained.

"In addition, there is another task I would have you fulfill. One of equal if not greater importance. When Shanoa begins to learn Glyphs, I want you to watch her summons, learn to copy them as you do other spells. You must grow with her in might and ability, because if Shanoa ever falls astray in her duties I would have you replace her, Aurelia. Not a true Blade, but a replica." Barlowe met her gaze and held it, eyes hard and commanding. "Do you understand?"

Familiar emotions swarmed deep within Aurelia's heart at hearing the words. This new duty would upend her life, yes, but hearing him call her a replica Blade was a balm upon her worries. The idea fed the selfish desires she'd struggled with since her failed Trial. If she could not be Ecclesia's Blade in truth then she could play the part in spirit.

Perhaps that would be enough.

Aurelia bowed her head. "I live to serve."

"Good," Barlowe said with no small measure of satisfaction. "You have always been a true acolyte. Never stray from that conviction."

"Forgive any impudence, sir, but what does this mean for my missions with Master Ephraim?" she asked despite already knowing the answer.

"You have served well in that role, and perhaps one day you may return to it, but shadowing Shanoa is your new task."

Aurelia made sure to not let her disappointment show upon her face. She'd grown to love her work with Ephraim, the tangible progress they made towards seeing Ecclesia's dream fulfilled, and – of course – spending time with her beloved. But she had no choice in this matter, and if Barlowe deemed this task more urgent then she would defer to his judgment.

"Yes, sir," Aurelia said, "when do I start?"

"Tomorrow morning. Be up with the Sun, so will she."

"Should I inform Master Ephraim of my new duties?"

"I already have," Barlowe said in a low voice.

An odd, awkward silence passed between them. She suspected he knew of the nature of their relationship, though Barlowe had never expressed any opinion on the matter, at least in her presence. Sometimes she was tempted to ask Ephraim if they spoke of it in private, but always tamped the urge. If her love thought it important for her to know he would share.

"You have your orders," Barlowe finished with a nod and wave of his hand, dismissing her.

Aurelia stood and bowed before diving back into Inertia. She stewed, alone, as she left her master's chambers. The change of duties was not ideal, and she'd grown to want more out of life than simply watching others from within her precious shadows. Aurelia wanted to be the change in the world. Wanted to be the guiding hand to lead humanity into blessed, higher ascension. She'd just gotten her first taste of that calling, but now was being relegated to her former post, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she wasn't upset.

Yet, for any silent qualms she had, this was all according to the Lord's plan. Barlowe spoke for the Dark Lord. He'd been receiving Dracula's calls since his youth, and he knew – more than any living human – what was necessary to help lead humanity into the arms of their righteous savior. Aurelia trusted wholly and complicitly in all guidance received from Barlowe, even if went against her personal wants or desires. So yes, she was upset now, but it would pass because she did live to serve. To be a means to a glorious end.

And she would follow Barlowe and her Lord until the time came for her own ascension.

IXI

Shanoa's training began the next day, as ordered. Aurelia followed the girl out of her room and into the familiar secluded training hall at the back of the fortress. The same hall where her uncle had taught her in the dead of night, when the rest of Ecclesia was asleep. They traded blows and stories and lessons and the utmost physical pain within this arched, muraled room. A sacred place to Aurelia, and she felt a pang of… not nostalgia, but perhaps longing as she watched Ecclesia's new Blade walk over the threshold to begin her own brand of life-changing ordeals. The girl was eager, but nervous, Aurelia noted. The latter would not serve her well under Torey's harsh instruction.

Aurelia listened to her uncle's opening remarks. Heard the echoes of years past in his speech, watched him approach the mural with all the flourish she knew to expect. Except the description he gave to Shanoa of what it depicted was different than when he'd imparted the historical knowledge unto Aurelia. It sounded positive, almost, as though the Church was justified, a far cry from the truth. She knew Shanoa was being taught an altered version of history to preserve her naïve mind, but hearing the lengths to which her teachers had to go…

Her mind drifted to Torey's speech to her before the mural when she was still a child – years before her own Trial. A truth she'd known since infancy but growing ever more poignant as she developed the means to comprehend Ecclesia's mission.

"I know what it looks like, but this isn't a battle. This image refers to the Siege of Jerusalem. An assault from the First Crusade. It was a war ordained by the Catholic Church. Those men of supposed higher faith. They wanted to take back the Holy Land. Reclaim it from men of a different faith. So, they riled Europe and sent scores of soldiers. Knights called crusaders, and they marched by the will of God. They cried their battle anthem to the winds. A butchered Latin phrase. Deus lo vult, 'God wills it'. Never mind what their religion decreed, their precious Commandments. Jesus himself had declared war, so said their Pope. And the Holy See would have its carnage.

"The invaders laid waste to the Holy Land, to Jerusalem. The siege ended in a massacre. These knights – crusaders – slaughtered everyone in their path. Muslim, Jew, they didn't care. It's said the streets of Jerusalem ran knee deep in blood. Bodies piled to the rooftops. But this was what God had commanded. This tide of death. Deus lo vult."

A weighty silence settled over them. Aurelia studied the mural but found no sign of blood. No hint to the massacre. Someone had obscured the truth from this mural, and suddenly she realized who this fortress had once belonged to.

"I… didn't know, for the longest time," Torey continued. "I thought the Crusades were justified. That the Church was infallible. I was young, and god fearing. I fought battles for them because the Crusades never ended. Just took a different form. I killed men and monsters in the name of faith. I killed without guilt. I slaughtered. But I didn't know this was a constant. That the battles were eternal. Then, Barlowe taught me the truth. He opened my eyes, and I saw.

"What is humanity? The image of a violent God. Made to serve Him. To be the same as Him. And mankind has performed well in this role. God is Chaos, Aurelia. The same force we're raising you to fight against. We will save mankind, but from itself. From the make of its own design. This is why we pledge our allegiance to Lord Dracula. The same one they cry out for in their hearts to save them. The one they raise, time and again, without fail. Humanity needs a new God. A new savior. One who will bring order and end the endless war."

Shanoa would never know this, peel away the mask of purported virtue and truly see, and in that Aurelia almost pitied her.

But it needed to be this way.

She watched Shanoa try and fail. Watched her struggle against the immovable mountain that was her uncle. Torey had Aurelia undergo the same test of skill, once upon a time, and thus marked the beginning of the peculiar emotions which swirled to life inside the albino as she watched Shanoa embark upon her path towards martyrdom. A mixture of that strange, unnamable longing and the ever-present distaste that one so foolish could be deemed worthy enough to walk such a sacred path. One which should have been reserved for their Lord's faithful.

The training continued for months without much deviation while Aurelia grew accustomed to her new role as appointed stalker. She followed Shanoa through the halls of the fortress, using the skills she'd developed in childhood to guide her now. Aurelia would cast a net of vision around the girl, watching for anyone who got too close, and subtly diverting or distracting nearby acolytes who might catch Shanoa in a moment of solitude with the various spells in her repertoire. She couldn't keep Shanoa completely isolated, though, especially when the girl wandered into the dining hall for meals, but the Elders had done well in ordering the lesser acolytes to stay away. Soon enough Aurelia didn't need to expend much energy in keeping the girl alone. The moment other acolytes caught sight of her in the halls they'd turn heel and walk the opposite direction.

Aurelia did allow Shanoa some manner of privacy, though. She never followed the girl into her bedroom or the bath, deeming those two areas secluded enough that the omission wouldn't fall astray of Barlowe's orders to keep her isolated. Besides, Aurelia did need to sleep, and once Shanoa turned in for the night Ecclesia's Shadow did the same.

There were times when Shanoa would act… peculiar. The girl would turn her head, alerted to something Aurelia couldn't identify, only to see her shake off the notion with some insistence. On a couple rare occasions Shanoa glanced – seemingly on purpose – towards the shadow Aurelia occupied. Her eyes meeting the pace where Aurelia's head would have been if she existed within the physical plane, narrowing for a second, before Shanoa turned away and resumed her current task. At first, Aurelia didn't know what to make of the instances when they happened. The only person who had ever displayed an innate ability to track her through Inertia was Oriana, and even then the old woman couldn't tell where precisely Aurelia was, just that she was present in the room. The notion that a child lacking a link to Inertia could see Aurelia within the Darkness was too ridiculous to entertain, so the Shadow soon dismissed the instances as odd happenstance.

All the while, Aurelia watched Shanoa struggle through her training. Saw her beaten by Torey time and time again. But one day Aurelia noticed a slight difference within the girl's outfit. She drew closer, within the shadow cast by Shanoa's own body, before she was able to identify what was wrong. There was something hidden beneath the legs of her pants and the sleeves of her shirt. Flat and easy to miss if one didn't know to look for them. Her curiosity piqued, Aurelia was tempted to break her own self-imposed rule, to venture inside Shanoa's private quarters and investigate.

That's how Aurelia found herself outside Shanoa's door that night, filled with conflict over whether to enter, when she caught Ecclesia's young Blade sneaking out after curfew. She followed Shanoa, traversing within Inertia, into the vacant courtyard. She watched the girl train under the cover of darkness, going beyond what Torey had already put her through that day, saw a river of sweat seep from her pores as Shanoa danced around straw men and slashed at targets. But – most importantly – Shanoa was wearing short sleeves, revealing the makeshift weights strapped around her wrists, weighing her down, and Aurelia knew she had a matching pair around her ankles.

Aurelia had to admit, Shanoa's level of dedication was almost… impressive.

She didn't tell her uncle about it, though. Part of her wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out. He didn't bring it up until about a month later, when they were eating their twice weekly shared private dinner in her uncle's quarters.

"She's doing extra training?" Torey asked after he finished swallowing a mouthful of venison. The question was presented more as a statement rather than a genuine inquiry.

Aurelia nodded as she speared a slice of carrot with her fork. "Yes."

"When?"

"After curfew, she goes to the courtyard to practice with the dummies. Seems to know the night patrol routes, too."

Torey shook his head with a gruff sound. "I should reprimand the girl. At least put a stop to it."

"You won't, though," Aurelia said with a small smile. "This is exactly what you want, isn't it? For her to go above and beyond in her training?"

"Rules should be followed," he said, meeting her gaze with a stern look.

Aurelia shrugged as she brought her fork up to her mouth. "She's ambitious, you know." She paused to chew and swallow her bite of carrot. "I was always taught that trait's a virtue, even if she's corrupted."

Torey narrowed his eyes. "Are you defending her?"

She paused for a moment, mulling over the question. Was she? That wasn't necessarily her intent, and yet…

"Only because you'd let me get away with the same," Aurelia said at length.

A pregnant silence passed between them before Torey responded with a slow nod.

"Very good," he said in a satisfied voice.

Then the realization struck her.

"You were testing me," Aurelia said, her eyes widened a bit in surprise. "You knew she was breaking curfew, didn't you? Probably knew about the weights too-"

Torey held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm just making sure you don't hate her, is all."

Aurelia's mouth moved wordlessly for a few seconds before she managed to voice a response. "The only thing I hate is the Chaos in her blood."

"I don't care what Barlowe says on this. You need to let go of that hatred." Torey held her gaze, commanding. "Shanoa is Ecclesia's Blade, now. She deserves better than to be hated for something she can't control."

A world of objections formed and died on Aurelia's tongue. She wanted to argue the point, press that Chaos deserved to be hated in all forms for what It had done to humanity, when a memory flashed within her mind. The words her uncle had said to her after her doomed Trial.

"I failed you," Aurelia said once they were alone.

Her uncle looked down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She'd grown much within the past year, a spurt still ongoing, yet he continued to tower over his niece.

"It wasn't a failure. That would require effort, and the choice was never yours to make. Beyond all our power, in truth. You have strength, Aurelia. And Ecclesia needs it."

"But it needs a Blade more," she whispered.

A long silence stretched between them. At length, Torey sighed.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways," he said in a soft voice. "Return to your room. We'll talk later." He paused. "We'll find a way to fix this, I promise."

"I'm sorry," Aurelia said. Her voice cracked on the words.

Torey's eyes widened the slightest bit. He placed a hand beneath her chin and bade her to meet his gaze.

"Never apologize for what you are," he said.

She gulped but nodded.

Aurelia was what she'd been made to be. An anomaly of genetics and magical heritage. An albino with an intrinsic link to Darkness and the ability to copy spells at will. Torey was right, she was loath to admit. Shanoa was the same as her in that she didn't make the choice to be born with Chaos tainted blood.

It was the first step in a lesson that would haunt Aurelia for the rest of her life.

"You're right," she said after a time.

They continued to eat in silence for a few minutes before her uncle decided to speak again.

"I should have said this earlier, but I'm glad you were assigned to guard Shanoa. It's taken you away from Ephraim. Lord knows that was a long time coming."

Aurelia bristled at his words. "I don't want to talk about this," she said in a hard tone.

"He's your elder in every respect," Torey insisted, his tone equally hard. "Having a… a relationship with you is not only inappropriate. It's an abuse of his power."

They'd had this discussion time and again. She didn't know why he still sought to debate the matter. He should know by now there was no changing her mind, especially when his arguments had no validity.

"I'm not being abused," she said.

"You're young and he's taking advantage of you."

"We're in love."

"It's not love. It can't be. You're not equals. When he's finished with you he'll cast you aside. Let you rot while he stays in his lofty place." Entreaty had seeped into Torey's tone. "He is the one man I can't protect you from. Barlowe will stand by his kin above all else."

"I don't need to be protected from love."

"Aurelia…"

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this for you," she said, pausing a moment to sniff and look away. "At least Shanoa can do what you want. You'll see one of your wishes fulfilled."

A tense silence settled between them, but – to Aurelia's gratitude – her uncle didn't try to further argue the point. She knew he was angry, but it would pass. By the time their next dinner came around he'd drop the matter and act like nothing happened, per the usual turns in his cycle. They finished eating without another word spoken between them, and with a quick, muttered parting went their separate ways.

Sure enough, the following week came and went without argument, and Aurelia fell back into her routine with ease.

No one overseeing Shanoa's training – Elder and Shadow alike – expected the girl's introductory phase to last less than a few years, but she did the impossible in only one. Defeated Torey at his own game. Set him to kneel on the floor of the training hall, bowed before a young girl. Aurelia watched the pivotal moment as it happened. She couldn't help but be impressed by the girl's ingenuity. It had taken Aurelia almost four years before she was able to beat her uncle, though her training had begun at a much younger age, putting her at further disadvantage. Still, for all her conflicted feelings regarding Shanoa, perhaps she'd thought too little of her ability to strategize. A trait which would serve her well in the life-or-death battles yet to come.

The ceremony to present Shanoa with her first Glyph came soon after. Aurelia observed, as always, watched the proceedings unfold. Saw Barlowe summon a sigil into the air – Secare, based on the makeup of the symbol. An easy incantation to start with. Aurelia waited with bated breath as Shanoa studied the Glyph, raised her arms, and – without instruction – performed the process of absorption.

It was so easy. There was no conscious effort displayed by the girl. No cries of pain or oral spurts of blood as the magic took hold in the host's flesh. Glyphs were unruly spells to wield. The sheer weight of the knowledge contained within a single sigil enough to fill a mind and body to bursting. Aurelia never needed to absorb a Glyph herself, having the ability to forge sufficient copies, but she'd watched plenty of acolytes undergo the absorption procedure to know it hurt like hell. But Shanoa was unfazed, spared the usual pain, and Aurelia was enrapt by the anomaly before her eyes.

With a flash of light the deed was done. A flurry of comments erupted from the Elders before Barlowe cut in, commanding the girl to summon the Glyph. She held out her hand, and a sword materialized in her hand. A solid shape, no half-constituted or transparent form as was typical of a new Glyph wielder. Shanoa didn't need to grow accustomed to the power. Didn't need to parse through the complexities of shifting matter and atomic forms into the desired shape. She knew.

This was the true power of Ecclesia's Blade. The ability to reshape reality to her whim without higher thought. A mere inclination and Shanoa could will a solid form into being. The same power coveted by gods, all those deities of ancient song and legend who – without conscious effort – birthed universes into existence.

Aurelia wanted it again. The old hurt and desire bursting forth in her chest at the sight of Shanoa's power. She wanted it more than words could hope to convey.

Then it happened.

Shanoa turned, her blue eyes drifting to the shadows, and met Aurelia's gaze.

An odd moment passed between them. Two souls meeting along a barren, deserted road. It took Aurelia too long to realize, in her emotional furor, she'd allowed her eyes to emerge from Inertia. She came back to herself with a surge of horror, immersing herself once again in Darkness.

The place where she could play at godhood, too.

IXI

- Age 20 -

The encounter wasn't supposed to happen, yet – against the odds – it did.

Two years had passed since Shanoa's ascension to Blade and Aurelia's change in assignment. She watched the girl with a practiced eye now, knowing her routines by heart. The days were spent training and mastering Glyphs, Aurelia copying those spells she saw from within Inertia, having nothing but the time to devote to their learning. Nights were Shanoa's to have to herself, though Aurelia noted the girl never broke her ritualistic excess training. Tired and bored, the albino often left her to it, though every so often she'd follow Shanoa into the courtyard to mark the course of her progress.

The night it happened was, overall, unremarkable. Clear skies revealed a bright, moonlit sky as Shanoa danced between the straw mannequins in the courtyard. For the most part she utilized Secare to cut thin slices into her targets, but every so often the girl summoned Grando into the palm of her hand and fired the icy projectile at a more distant opponent. The Glyph was a new addition to her repertoire, yet she already commanded mastery over it. The summoning process finishing in half a second where a lay person would need to expend at least thirty seconds forming the conical spear.

Aurelia lay within Inertia, in a shadow cast beneath the overhang of the walkway bordering the courtyard. She indulged in her own training as she watched Shanoa spar, going through the motions of summoning her own version of Grando. She couldn't formulate the Glyph within Inertia – the deadened plane where no matter moved – but she could feel its shape. Call upon the forces and familiarize herself with the process of formulation. She'd utilized this same strategy throughout her childhood, as she watched the Elders practice their signature Glyphs and copied them in turn without them knowing. Paries and Globus were hers to command now because of it, as was Oriana's icicle spear. Though that last spell wasn't a Glyph she thought of it now as she mimicked the taming of water molecules at Grando's call.

Wanting to practice its translation into the physical plane, Aurelia stepped out of Inertia for a scant few moments. She stood on the paved bricks, still completely hidden within the blackened shadows, arm extended to the side as she felt the weight of air, felt the tremble of particles unseen, and began her own summoning in total silence.

Later, Aurelia would spend hours trying to discern what it was. How she'd given herself away, only to conclude it'd been Shanoa's base instincts, nothing more. The girl paused in her sparring, bristling, and whirled in Aurelia's direction, blue eyes fixed on the shadow where the albino stood, hidden.

"Who's there?" the girl called out.

Aurelia's heart raced inside her chest. This wasn't possible. She'd made no noise, no hint to her presence, but it didn't matter now. She needed to leave before Shanoa could identify her. The albino turned, one foot already submerged within Inertia, when one of Grando's projectiles connected with the wall beside her head. The ice shattered with explosive force, forcing Aurelia to a halt. She stared at the place of impact, silent, before a small, giddy smile formed on her lips.

The sheer gall of this girl. Her boldness. Shanoa had numerous inherent faults, but such bravado was… endearing, in a way. Well then, she'd respond to overt boldness in kind. Aurelia turned, chuckling to herself, speaking before she could think to flee.

"Peace, Shanoa. I'm not your enemy."

Interacting directly with Shanoa was a violation of Barlowe's orders, but that night – beneath a moonlit sky – Aurelia was too intrigued to care, drawn in by the temptation to measure this girl's fortitude with a play at subterfuge. They talked for a bit, in halting words and suspicious glances. An odd conversation, both participants as wary as the other. Aurelia made her first true assessment of Shanoa that night. Noted the way she carried herself, her bull-headed insistence, the make-up of the Blade's form in both the physical and metaphysical sense. There were some things that couldn't carry over into Inertia, such as the aura a person emitted, the unspoken effect unable to cross between dimensions. Shanoa had a commanding presence, even now at such a young age, and Aurelia found herself being far more honest with Ecclesia's Blade than with most other people in her life.

"Are you an assassin?" Shanoa asked as their conversation continued.

Aurelia kept her expression unreadable. "I have killed, yes."

"That's not what I asked."

There was a slight tremor of fear in the girl's eyes as she said it. Aurelia had to admit it was an obvious assumption. At fourteen and having never left the fortress it would have been more ridiculous for Shanoa to blindly believe there was yet an acolyte she hadn't encountered in its halls. But if Shanoa feared her then it was likely she'd tell someone of this forbidden encounter. Torey might let her get away with it, but Lord help her if word got back to Barlowe. No, she had to quash the girl's worries and assure her silence.

"It is," Aurelia said with what she tried to pass off as an air of nonchalance. "Though there is more to what I do than killing." The albino paused. "As I said, it's better if I don't give you specifics. Our roads were always destined to intersect, but not this soon."

The comment was a bold-faced lie. They were never meant to meet in face to face, but with further conversation it appeased Shanoa's nerves. Aurelia breathed a small sigh of relief. For all her boldness the girl was surprisingly malleable.

Seeking to conclude their unorthodox conversation, Aurelia turned to leave when Shanoa made one last request, insistent upon learning her name. The albino turned, looking back over her shoulder at the girl. The way she'd said it – so innocent and eager – touched something buried deep in Aurelia's hardened heart. Suddenly, she didn't care about the Chaos in Shanoa's blood or the coveted title she held. Aurelia's life had been full of cruel lessons and hardened Masters. The subject of distrust and abuse by strangers who saw her albinism as a cursed sign and carrying always the knowledge that the world she walked within was sullied by a corrupt and vengeful God. But that night, for the first time since Ephraim, she was on the receiving end of such kinder emotions, and she couldn't turn Shanoa away.

"Aurelia."

And the name entrusted a world to her.

Ecclesia's Shadow left before the swelling in her chest could grow too fervent, diving into her precious Inertia, leaving Shanoa alone. Conflict roared inside her head as she left the courtyard. What she was feeling made no sense. Shanoa wasn't simply a young warrior, she was a martyr, the sacrificial lamb upon humanity's altar, the one who took Aurelia's rightful place. A thing both tainted by Chaos and pure of mind, the very definition of fragile dichotomy.

Aurelia shouldn't touch her. Was loath to get any closer than this odd conversation had already brought them. Because she knew if they continued along this path, spoke any more truth to each other, something ugly would come out of Aurelia eventually. And what shape that eventuality might take she shuddered to contemplate.

Because Shanoa – by her mere existence – made Aurelia feel.

And emotions were the most dangerous things in the universe.

IXI

- Age 23 -

As the years passed – after Shanoa had killed for the first time – the girl was allowed to venture outside the fortress on missions to eradicate monstrous threats. This development marked a turning point in Aurelia's assignment. By now, the other acolytes had proven themselves to never venture close to Shanoa without direct approval from an Elder, and the girl was unquestionably loyal to their cause in her own way. Barlowe was much more willing to leave her without Aurelia's supervision for periods of time, and she never went on missions alone, almost always accompanied by her equally protective brother. Thus, with an alleviation in her Shanoa related responsibilities, Aurelia could, at long last, resume her previous work with Ephraim.

The albino dove back in with fervor, elated beyond words as she became the hand of ascension once again. Ascension was the greatest gift she could bestow upon a human. When a Chaotic being died in the name of Lord Dracula their soul was pledged to him. Became one with his essence and added to his divine might. Her uncle and the other Elders referred to it as being called into the arms of the Lord where they would lie with him forever. This was Aurelia's calling in life, and babysitting a young warrior could never bring her close to the same level of satisfaction. And while she still spent countless days submerged within Shanoa's shadow, Aurelia thrived on the regular missions out into the wide world. The opportunity to spend more time with her beloved was yet another benefit.

Ephraim summoned her to his office one night, about a year after this hybrid of her duties began. She entered the room through the door proper, hoping to catch her lover off guard so she could follow up with a teasing remark. Aurelia stiffened at once when she saw Barlowe sitting at Ephraim's desk, hands folded in front of him and an expectant look on his face. Ephraim was standing off to the side, dark eyes turning to her as she closed the door behind her.

Aurelia stepped up to the desk and bowed before her highest Master. "Sir."

"At ease, child," Barlowe said with a slight wave of his hand.

She allowed herself to relax somewhat but remained standing at attention. Barlowe made a slow visual scan of the young woman standing in front of him.

"How fare you this evening?" he asked after a protracted moment.

"I am well," she said.

"You look a little tired, I think. I trust this means Master Ephraim is keeping you busy?"

Aurelia kept her gaze trained on Barlowe. "Always."

"Good, I expect nothing less." There was a leather-bound file on the desk beneath Barlowe's hands. He made a show of opening it and pulling out the documents nestled within. "I've been reading the reports on your investigation into a dangerous man operating near the town of Cordova." Barlowe glanced down at the first document. "A Doctor Igor Grahn, as it were. Following up on claims he's dabbled in potentially forbidden arts. It says here your search has borne fruit, correct?"

"Yes," Aurelia said with a nod, "the man appears to be a new form of necromancer, for lack of a better term. He takes flesh from the dead and transplants it into the living. The locals claim this practice saves lives, but he's venturing into a realm reserved for gods. This treatment… it subverts nature. It should not be."

"You're wrong on one count," Barlowe said once she'd fallen silent. "The man is not using necromancy, but science to achieve his goals. An ingenious form of medicine, something that can prolong a fading life, but it is a subversion of nature, as you so aptly put it. As medical science advances the human population becomes more robust. Grows out of control and upsets the natural balance, inciting even more Chaos and the eventual overrunning of the Earth. Men like this doctor must be stopped before they can pass on their knowledge and assist a parasitic growth."

"I agree, sir," Aurelia said.

An odd pause passed between them as Barlowe took stock of her once again, searching for something unidentifiable within her stature.

"You've been studying Shanoa for years," he said at length. "You know her well, then?"

The question caught Aurelia off guard, but she didn't question the conversational shift. "I do."

"How would you assign value to it? If you had to compare your knowledge of Shanoa to, say, someone else who's interacted with her?"

Aurelia thought back through the years of her vigil. The two of them had undergone similar training, being taught by the same Master, and learning to overcome pain through the necessary dispensing of poison. They'd both held aspirations of becoming Ecclesia's Blade, though to decidedly different ends, and knew the weight of various Glyphs – far more than any other human had the ability to wield. But what stood out in Aurelia's mind – shining like a beacon in the dark – was their fleeting conversation beneath the moonlight. She could still feel the essence of Shanoa, the conviction radiating off what had now become a young woman. Shanoa would do whatever it took to help save humanity.

And Aurelia had her answer.

"I know her better than my uncle does," she said, finally.

Barlowe nodded, pleased. "Good, and this knowledge shall serve you well." He held Aurelia's gaze as he spoke. "As of tonight, you will have a new variation to your assignments. You will still go on missions as dictated by Master Ephraim and follow the Blade when you're in the fortress. But, going forward, when you are tasked with eradicating or ascending a target you will take Shanoa with you."

Everything halted in the wake of Barlowe's words. She blinked at him a few times, hard stops in her vision, as she processed what he said. It made no sense. Aurelia's work was steeped in Chaos. The very thing they were trying to protect Shanoa from falling prey to. Why would Barlowe want to expose her to such dangers of the soul after all this time? But, for all her confusion, Aurelia knew it wasn't her place to question her Elders.

"It shall be as you command, sir," Aurelia said after a moment.

One of Barlowe's eyebrows quirked the slightest bit. "And you have no questions for me?"

"There's no need," she said. "I follow orders, I always have."

"You might do better in this task if you can see the whole picture."

She knew he was testing her, and if she were anyone else she might have been intimidated. As it was, Aurelia knew what was expected of her. She knew her place in Ecclesia, and never once sought to deviate from it. The work was too important for rebellion.

"I only need to see what you wish me to see," she said. "It's not my place to ask for anything more than what my Master willingly gives."

A silence followed the declaration. Barlowe and Ephraim looked at each other, something unspoken passing between them. Then, to Aurelia's surprise, a small, pleased smile formed on Barlowe's pale lips.

"You were right, the fire ever burns," Barlowe said to him.

Ephraim let out a low chuckle. "What else can I say? She's special. Loyal to the bone."

"Indeed." Barlowe turned his attention back to Aurelia. "You've proven yourself worthy, child. You've earned the gift of understanding. Of knowledge no one outside Ecclesia's Elders can hear." He narrowed his gaze. "Make no mistake, utter a word of this to anyone else and I will cut out your tongue. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said with a slight bow. "To hold this secret would be my honor."

Barlowe leaned over the desk, steepling his fingers together, eyes unwavering as he stared into Aurelia. "You know much about Dominus already. Specifically, that the Glyphs originate from Dracula's own power, drawn out of his lingering remains. My research over the years has uncovered much about their mechanisms, how to utilize their might to our best advantage. Over time, through regular experimentation, I discovered the Glyphs draw on the emotions of the user, with turmoil being the most virulent fodder of all. Dominus is drawn to ugly emotions, saps on their energy and turns them into a positive force.

"In order to break the Vessel's seal we must have the full strength of Dominus at our disposal. We only have a single opportunity for success, and thus, to be an effective Blade, Shanoa must be in turmoil when she uses the Glyphs upon the effigy. The worst she's ever felt. So, starting now, we will prime her for the offering. Set the stage for this turmoil to brew inside her soul, all for the greater good.

"The naivety we've fostered in her all these years will be to our advantage. To her unenlightened eyes she would see this Doctor Grahn as an innocent man who's done nothing wrong. A good man – one who dedicates himself to saving lives – without ever knowing the Chaos he's sowing. Which is why you'll take Shanoa with you to hunt down the man. You'll have her kill him, with her own Glyphs, while only telling her the half-truth. Showing her the wickedness while hiding the purported goodness. Tell her he's a necromancer, that his patients are victims, whatever must be done to ensure she commits the deed with a feeling of righteousness guiding her hand.

"This will be the first of many such missions. You and Ephraim will find unique agents of Chaos – people the naïve would see as being good of heart – and we'll send Shanoa to kill them. And you, Aurelia, shall guide her through it. You know her well. Better than your uncle, as you so aptly put it. You will be a mentor and a formal companion. One I entrust to continue keeping her ignorant and safe.

"Then, when the stage is set and the time comes for her to use Dominus, the truth will be revealed. I will make a grand unveiling of a usurper within our ranks, one who had our Blade kill what I can now prove were innocent victims. You will be framed as the villain who tricked her, who used her influence in the Order to sow Chaos, and Shanoa – the precious girl – will come undone. She will be brought before the Vessel in her moment of strife, told that in destroying the effigy she can atone, and then the ritual will commence. A pure-minded Blade set in turmoil, an insurmountable guilt, offering herself before our Lord. Dominus shall be at its most powerful then, with such a sublime sacrifice, and the Vessel is sure to fall. And as she's dying Shanoa will be safe in the assurance she's doing what's right. Our final gift."

A silence settled over the room as Barlowe finished his speech. Aurelia let his words seep into her; allowed the enormity of what he was proposing to weigh upon her shoulders. The future of Ecclesia – no, the future of humanity – depended on the outcome of this scheme. A responsibility beyond any she'd been tasked with before. A swarm of emotions surged within Aurelia's heart. So strong and fervent they all merged, rendering themselves unidentifiable, and for all the intensity of the moment the albino felt strangely empty. As though her fate had been decided long ago and this was simply another step along the predetermined path.

"This is." Aurelia paused, searching for the appropriate words. "A massive undertaking."

"I anticipate it will last years," Barlowe said, "but I trust in your unwavering loyalty. You can endure the wait."

Aurelia knew what was expected of her and she bowed her head once again. "I'm honored to be so chosen."

"Of course." Barlowe stood, rounded the desk, and came to a stop in front of her. His demeanor shifted, becoming something cold and calculated and haughty. The essence of a man who demanded nothing less than perfection, and knew it was his right to do so. He continued to stare into Aurelia, and she dared not look away. "Our future is in your hands, child." He leaned forward the slightest bit. "Do not fail me."

She held his gaze, unwavering. "Never, sir."

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Barlowe made a sound of satisfaction and turned his head towards Ephraim.

"Prepare her."

Ephraim nodded. "Yes, sir."

The message imparted, Barlowe took his leave without another word. Aurelia stood at attention until she heard the office door open and close behind her. She relaxed as Ephraim sauntered over to her with a wide smile on his face.

"You did well," Ephraim said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I've never been prouder."

Aurelia let out a weary sigh. "I don't know how to feel about this. He just placed the entire world on my shoulders."

"But this is what you wanted, no? The power of Ecclesia's Blade?" Ephraim moved his hand until it was cradling her face. "You may not have the title, true, but Barlowe has given you mastery over her. You are now as much the Blade as Shanoa is, though with a distinct advantage. You know the truth."

Ephraim's words soothed the ever-present jealousy which festered inside her soul. For the first time the bite of failure began to fade. He was right, after all. Aurelia might not be Ecclesia's Blade, but this assignment would have her wield that power. Steer Shanoa's Glyphs by the albino's own command. It was everything she'd ever wanted, in a way.

"Yes," she said, leaning into his hand, "you're right, my love."

They stayed that way for a time, a mutual stillness, before Ephraim withdrew his hand.

"Before we start, I have a gift for you," he said. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew something. It was hidden within his closed fist, and with only slight encouragement he pressed it into Aurelia's palm.

She studied the object in her hand. It was a silver chain link necklace upon which hung an unusual ring. The band was made of pitch-black stone and carved into the shape of a winding ouroboros. The detail work of the carving was exquisite, and when she looked closer Aurelia could see the outline of fangs and individual scales along the snake's body.

"What is it?" Aurelia asked. She could feel the pulse of magic emanating from the ring but couldn't identify its makeup.

"It's called a Ring of Apathy," Ephraim said. "When worn the ring devours all emotions felt by the host, but at the cost of your finger, unfortunately. Once you put it on you can't take it off. In addition, if you wear it for too long, feed it too much, the ring becomes more voracious and begins to eat flesh as well."

"Sounds overly dangerous," Aurelia said as she cast him her equivalent of a quizzical look. "Why are you giving it to me?"

"Because you've been bestowed the most important task of all. It will be risky and a challenge. Shanoa will test you along the way, as all the ignorant are wanting to do. If you ever find yourself backed into a corner, where you have no choice but to reveal the truth, use this ring to help you get yourself out of it and avoid catastrophe."

"I appreciate your concern, but it won't come to that," Aurelia said with some insistence.

Ephraim's gaze softened. "Then take it as a promise from me. Something to remind you that I'm with you, always."

A wide grin blossomed on Aurelia's face. As their relationship matured over the years Ephraim had started to grow more reserved, his romantic gestures flowing with less frequency. Aurelia knew it was the natural progression of things. As two people became more comfortable with each other the initial fires of passion would alleviate somewhat. Still, she knew his heart was true, and his words set a warm feeling of elation through her chest. Everything else fell away, the responsibility of it all and the emotions this intense game of subterfuge was sure to elicit. All that mattered now was them, their love in the face of adversity.

"Always?" she asked, wanting to hear him say it again.

Ephraim hesitated for the briefest moment.

"Always."

IXI

The second meeting between Ecclesia's Blade and her Shadow carried much less fanfare than the moonlit encounter but was far more poignant.

Aurelia watched the scene unfold from within Shanoa's own shadow. A band of darkness cast behind the young woman onto the tiled floors of the council chamber. She and Barlowe were discussing the change in her assignment. How Albus was no longer to accompany her on missions to the outside world. Shanoa was displeased by the news but recovered quickly. She was so eager to live up to the responsibilities of her title and serve not only Barlowe, but humanity itself. So willing to do whatever it took to achieve a noble end…

It hit Aurelia all at once; what they were planning to do to this girl. Build up her hopes and dreams, her pure ambitions, all to break her. The albino knew she should be horrified by Barlowe's scheme, but she wasn't. Because this doomed road was how it had to be. How their Lord ordained their Blade to be used to free Him from the accursed effigy.

No matter how horrid this atrocity, all would be made right in the end.

And Aurelia would do whatever it took to save humanity from itself.

"However," Barlowe said, "he has his own role to play in our struggle, and I have need of him elsewhere. As such, I have arranged for a new member of our Order to accompany you."

"Who?" Shanoa asked.

On cue, Aurelia emerged from the shadow, standing behind the Blade, and waited. She saw Shanoa recognize her before the young woman turned around to look. There was a tightening in her shoulders, a slight twitch in her fingers, the subtle tells Aurelia recognized from the instances Shanoa stared intently into the shadows, searching. Aurelia was struck by the strange dichotomy in Shanoa's mentality at play. She was so observant yet so blind. How could she have yet to see the Chaos inherent in humankind? Though perhaps it was the fault of her own corruption keeping her in the dark.

And, beside herself, Aurelia found she no longer held any hatred towards Shanoa. She pitied her instead.

Shanoa turned, blue eyes widened the slightest bit, and met Aurelia's gaze. The two women stood staring at each other; the sacrificial lamb and the knife poised to strike at her exposed throat. It occurred to Aurelia then, in this odd moment where the world stilled on its axis, that this was the beginning of something far more dangerous than anyone could predict.

But neither one of them had ever backed down from a challenge.

'So,' Aurelia thought to herself, 'let it begin.'

"Hello, Shanoa."