Chapter 1
by: Mike Smith
The noon sun was striking Burgund's back unusually hard. He had already taken off his cassock, and was beginning to contemplate taking his alb off as well. It had been a long time since he had ever been that hot in Lionel; the last time he could remember that kind of sweltering heat was when he had played with the school children about seven years ago. He remembered playing games in the schoolyard before church, and the running around made him sweat under all of his vestments. But, that was under a lot of physical activity. Now he was just riding a chocobo, and he felt hotter than when he ran around the church racing a young girl. Those young children had since grown up. That thought made him want to weep on occasion.
The hills ahead of Burgund were growing closer, and the air waved as the heat rose off the ground. Gazing up ahead, he began to remember the area from past travel. A river ran between the hills, so after taking his alb off, he patted the giant bird on the head and reassured him that water would be coming soon. He knew that the bird couldn't understand him, but he always talked to him anyway. The chocobo, which he had named Lux, had been with him for a long time and for a while he was his only companion. They had shared this road before as well, and after his quick reassurance, Lux turned his head and almost seemed to give Burgund a look that said "I already knew that." Burgund laughed. He smiled at Lux and apologized.
It took Lux longer than he remembered to travel up the hill, but once they reached the top, Burgund let out a sigh of relief. The river, although it seemed lower then the usual level by looking at the banks, was still exactly as he remembered it. But, one thing was different. Someone was already down at the river gathering water. Burgund peered down and squinted through the waves of heat to try and figure out who the person was that took his favorite rest spot on the road. The man's white hair rested flatly against his head, either being naturally that way or being matted down by sweat from the heat. He was wearing a tan tunic and short quilted pants that came down to roughly his knees. Burgund didn't recognize the man until he spotted the alb and cassock draped across the man's grazing chocobo.
"Chort my good friend!" Burgund waved his hand high above his head to make sure Chort could see him through the haze. He could see Chort turn around and put his hand flat across his forehead to block the sun. After a few moments, Chort waved his hand in return.
"Burgund! It has been a long while. Come down and drink with me!"
Burgund smiled, although he realized Chort could probably not see it from that distance. Burgund gently dug his heels into the sides of his steed, making the chocobo rear his head back only slightly and begin to trot downhill. As Burgund got closer to where Chort was sitting, he began to pick out more of his features. Chort had aged quite a bit since the last time they met. Once Burgund became a bishop, he served as an assistant to Chort at a Church school in Zaland Fort City. He served with him for about three years, but Chort later was moved to the head of the Zaland diocese. Burgund then took over as headmaster, and he had not seen Chort in five years since then. Although it wasn't a long period of time, Chort's wrinkles were much more pronounced now and his hair was almost completely white, which was a great variation from the raven black hair he had before in his younger years. After a few minutes of travel, he arrived at the river and greeted Chort cordially.
"It has been too long." Burgund and Chort extended their right hands and grabbed each other around the forearm, pulling each other into an embrace.
"Yes it has my dear friend." Chort's wrinkled smile was still the same. "How is the school?"
"It is well. There are quite a bit more children since you moved, but it is still the same way as you left it."
Chort peered into Burgund's eyes. "You say that with a bit of sadness, dear friend." Burgund shrugged, especially because he knew Chort was right. "I think I already know what's on your mind."
"I just grow tired of war, Chort. I thought the Lion War would end it, but if it is not one quest for power it is another." Chort sat down on the large log he was originally sitting on when Burgund came over the hill. He motioned him to sit next to him. Burgund patted Lux on the side and watched as the graceful bird walked to the river's edge and begin to drink, and after a large sigh, sat down next to his comrade.
"You are afraid of what will happen to the children?"
Burgund paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "One of my best students graduated this year. He could have had a bright future, maybe even in the priesthood. But, he took up the sword instead." He gazed over the water and watched the small river ripple over the low rocks. "His parents live in Zeltennia, and he decided to join the army and protect his homeland. The war does not look like it is going well, and I most likely will never see him again."
Chort clasped his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. "This is the way of war, Burgund. There are times where man feels that if he takes up the sword, he could save the world." Burgund continued to stare at the water. "It is an instinct that has been around longer than the Sylvanyens." Chort's heavy Sylvanyen accent showed through even more than Burgund remembered
"I suppose you are right. But it doesn't have to be that way. One more sword will probably not help the world." He turned towards his friend and extended his arms out in frustration. "And what happens if the war reaches our borders? There will be a huge amount of refugees, and I will not be able to bear seeing those Zeltennian children starving."
Chort sighed. "When did you lose your trust in God, Burgund? Everything happens for a reason, even if Satan himself has plans to the contrary." Burgund shook his head in confusion. "Do you doubt?"
"Isn't it healthy to doubt at times? I've learned not to trust everything blindly after the Lion War. I'm sure you have an old Sylvanyen proverb for that."
Chort laughed and patted Burgund on the back. "I'm sure I do somewhere in my memory, but it is not as good as it used to be. Actually, I have not seen Sylvanye since I became a bishop. I have lost quite a few of those proverbs over the years." Burgund smiled at Chort. "Perhaps when it is time for me to retire from the priesthood I will take you with me to see the beauties of the Dortolye Forest."
"I would love to see it. Unfortunately, I am not a well traveled man. I might faint at the sight of something different." The two friends laughed together for a few moments, but returned to their serious tone.
"So, why have I been summoned as well? A schoolmaster does not fit well with the heads of the Lionel dioceses."
Chort shrugged as Burgund asked his question. "Apparently this is a very important meeting. The High Priest has always liked you, Burgund. Perhaps he just wanted you there."
Burgund, who never took well to flattery, simply waved off Chort's remark. "Either way, I will feel very awkward there. I do not know as much about the high affairs of the church as the other cardinals and bishops. I will be very out of place."
"Maybe you should take it as a trial by fire." Burgund turned to expect a smile on Chort's face. But his look was serious this time. It was a very disturbing seriousness. Chort quickly changed the subject as he saw his assistant moving along the river downstream while holding the reigns of his mount. "My assistant has returned. You are welcome to rest with us. That way, we can make the journey shorter by taking time to catch up as we ride."
"I'll agree to that, old man." Burgund and Chort chuckled at the comment. "I don't recognize your assistant. Would I know him from a previous meeting?"
"No, you have never met him before. His name is Brother Josephus. He is a monk from a monastery within the Zaland diocese. Apparently, he gave his life to the service of God at a very young age."
"That is very respectable. He looks and sounds like he is a disciplined man. Neither you nor I could bear the heat in our robes, yet he walks comfortably in his."
"Burgund, he is the most disciplined man I have ever met."
Josephus had made his way up to the two companions after a few moments, and as he approached the place where Burgund sat, he realized that he wasn't even breaking a sweat. The only thing he could do was stand and marvel at the man as he drew near. Once he was close, Burgund rose from his seat next to Chort and outstretched his arm to greet Josephus.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Brother Josephus. I am Bishop Burgund de Charlier." With his arm still outstretched, Josephus simply bowed slightly and continued on past the two to where the other chocobo were grazing. Reinstating his perplexed look, Burgund turned to Chort. "Is that any way to greet a bishop of the church?"
Chort gave a quick half smile. "When he entered the church as a child, he took a vow of silence. He hasn't spoken another word since that day."
* * * * * * *
It became harder to realize familiar features in the terrain as Burgund reached the end of his journey with his old and new friends. It had been at least a few hours since the sun had set, and just as the heat was unusual in the afternoon, the darkness seemed unusually thick as well. Even with each of them holding torches they could only see so far. But, the well traveled road seemed to be in a better condition than when they first started traveling on it, which was a good sign that they were close to their destination.
The trip did seem a lot shorter with a friend to travel it with. Chort and Burgund caught up on everything that they had missed over the years. Although Burgund began the journey in a somber mood, he began to find a little more hope and comfort with each foot fall. After reaching the crest of one last, large hill, Burgund could see the lights of many torches in the distance.
"It has been a while since I have seen the gates of Lionel Castle." Burgund tried to picture the full shape of the fortress by viewing all of the lit torches, but it couldn't fully come into his memory. "I still don't understand why the High Priest chose to meet here instead of the Great Cathedral."
"These are dangerous times," Chort turned his head to see where Josephus was at that moment, and after seeing he was right behind him, continued on with his statement, "and you can never be sure in dangerous times."
"I suppose so, but it does not make me feel any better about this meeting."
Chort gave a brief laugh, and continued pressing onward while Burgund was still trying to piece together the memory of the building. After riding for a short period, Josephus ended up trailing behind them for a small distance. Burgund began speaking so that the monk would not hear him.
"He must make for fun conversations as your assistant."
Chort humored Burgund with a small chuckle. "Josephus always gets the job done, exactly when it needs to be done. Although he has only been my assistant for a short time, he has served me very well."
Burgund tried to segue into his curiosity of the man without sounding obvious. "So, when did he become a monk?"
Chort sighed as if he had been asked that question too many times before. "He was abandoned as a small child. No one knows his age, but the other monks speculated that he was only around four years old when he entered."
"And he entered the church as a monk right then and there?" Burgund only became more intrigued.
"Shortly thereafter he was inducted. When he was found, he asked to be confessed alone with the priest, so Father Anthony took him into the confessional to honor his request, although he seemed too young to be confessed. Apparently they were there for hours, and when they exited, Josephus never spoke a word again. Father Anthony is the only one that we know of who spoke with him, and he refuses to tell anyone about the experience."
Burgund only grew in his curiosity. "That is fascinating. He seems to have incredible devotion to the Church. Perhaps he will want to move on and serve others as well in the priesthood."
"From the little that I know about him, I think that not only does he want to stay where he is currently, but that he has to stay there."
Burgund nodded slightly to show that he understood. "I guess if you do not wish to speak, the priesthood is not for you."
The torches in the distance grew closer as they continued their conversation. As they reached the gate of Lionel Castle, Burgund's memory returned to him from his last visit. The gates were huge, roughly 25 feet high, and Burgund had to strain to look up the wall to the top. After a few moments of waiting, a guard holding a spear in one hand and a torch in the other, dressed in the purple and red colors of the Church, moved to the walls edge and called down to them.
"This is Lionel Castle. Who wishes to proceed through these gates?"
Burgund opened his mouth to begin to speak, but Chort waved him off and replied. "Bishop Burgund de Charlier and I, Bishop Chort Alexeev, have come upon the High Priest's request. We are friends of the High Priest."
The guard called back down to the three travelers. "Any friend of the High Priest is a friend of the Church. Enter."
The torch disappeared behind the wall at the same instant the large gate began its slow ascent. After it moved half way, the gate stopped, and Chort led Burgund and Josephus through the gatehouse. As Burgund moved through, he looked up at one of the outer turrets. A torch was burning inside the turret, and right as he entered the gatehouse, he could see a slight flash of light off a metallic object. Someone was aiming an arrow out of the window of the turret. Chort saw Burgund staring at the tower.
"As I said, dear friend, these are dangerous times."
The three made there way through the houses and shops that were contained within the walls of the great castle without speaking much more, and once they reached the keep, Burgund stopped for a moment in disbelief. A small convoy of carriages was beside the stables. The carriages were definitely foreign.
"Tell me the truth. Who are we actually meeting today, Chort?"
The wind picked up slightly after he asked the question. As the wind blew, the flags attached to the carriages stretched out. The flags were yellow, and were adorned with three interlocking triangles in a circle with a scimitar laid overtop of the symbols.
"I think God has just given you your answer." Chort continued on with Josephus as Burgund remained staring at the waving flags. In an instant, any hope that returned to him from meeting his old friend left from his mind. After what seemed like a lifetime of staring at the flags, Burgund lowered his head and continued on to the keep. The flags of Havadmas continued to wave in the wind behind him.