Chapter 25 Heretic Cathar
WOOO! Almost reaching 100k word counts. I don't think I could write something this far, but here we are.
I rewrite this chapter many times, as I think the story is moving too fast. I still think it could be slowed down a lot more, but I don't think I will ever finish writing this project if I keep doing that. If you find that the quality of the writing had been dropped, then I'm sorry. My bad.
At least I get it out before the next expansion, right?
Also, happy new year, everyone.
Every time I made a checklist of what to write in the chapter, I always find that I could only do half of them before it became too long to keep it feels the same. Guess I need to improve my writing skills. If I rewrite the story in the future, the length would easily be doubled. That's for sure.
…
Q&A and Reviews
Guest: Question would maybe Catelyn get cursed? I mean she did break the whole promise to the seven. Good thing. It's fitting that she would get cursed for breaking that promise about Jon.
In MTG multiverse wise, it depends on the Gods. If the plane is dying and the influence of the Gods is weak, as in this story, then she would not get anything. Praying to the weakened Gods would not get you anything. But that doesn't mean people would not use the name to increase their political influences.
…
Previously
"I'm sorry Jon." She whispers to herself. "But I cannot believe your lie any longer, no matter how sweet it is, or how I want it to be true."
…
Steeling her heart, Thalia is about to do what she believed necessary. It is a hard choice. Sort of. Her allegiance and her faith stand on one side, and her confused heart on the other. It is wrong. Very wrong. Every commonsense told her that he was her enemy from the start. Everything she felt for him was a lie. It was just a manipulation from him and his mother. She is the prodigy of the Guardian of Thraben. She is the scion of the church of Avacyn. She must be incorruptible. She is incorruptible.
Her faith is her shield. She will not fall to such temptation. Everyone would agree with her on that.
But If Avacyn's grace protects her from such darkness, doesn't that mean what connection they had isn't a lie?
The world makes much more sense when she only needs to kill the heretics and demon worshippers.
And if they find her failings too wanting, then it is the end of the line for her. The church does not take too kindly to those who had gone astray. Considering what they just did to the council, those bureaucrats probably will not let this chance slip. If they cannot defy Lothar openly, they will surely get back at him through her. Considering the siege, perhaps she would get lucky and be put on a sham trial after its end.
'No need to think that far.' Thalia warns herself. She is pretty sure Lothar will not strike her down for this failing, but that doesn't mean her standing will remain the same.
Whatever may come, she will have to endure it. As long as she lives, as long as Thraben stands, she would endure.
She strides through the keep's corridor in silence. Her face is grim as her mind focuses on the matter at hand. Her posture and stance are all it takes to keep others away. Friends, rivals, suiters, do not matter, no one dares to approach her when she is like this. No one wants to repeat the incident from years ago again.
The said incident end with a young man with four broken teeth, one broken arm, and three stab wounds.
Soon enough she reached her destination without any incident.
"Lothar. Sir." She called her mentor. "I bring news."
"News?" Lothar asked. He must have notice something, that Thalia had no doubt. She hadn't been subtle with her emotion as of late. Strong and unemotional, his face may hide his seething rage, but the voice doesn't. "It must be a very important news indeed such that it rendered you in this unbecoming state."
Sarcasm. Lothar never did that before. This, it is at this moment stunted Thalia knew she fucked up.
"Everyone aside from my apprentice. Leave!" He commands. Everyone startles but offers no protest. Lo and behold, the room is cleared before the echo dies down. Silent ensues.
"Now. My dear apprentice. You know how much I detest liar, especially among my subordinates." He drops his charade. His face is no longer stern and emotionless. No. His dark complexion turns red with blood. Veins pop on his forehead. It does not take a genius to know that he is pissed. "I will give you one last chance…." He paused.
"The truth. Tell me everything …"
…
Something is not quite right. Lothar does not need to clear the room unless what he would discuss with his apprentice is uttermost secretive. That doesn't bode well for anyone in their squad. What kind of secret they cannot share with the others? The little girl said she had news. How did she and only she received this news?
An apprentice she might be but that does not mean that everyone would trust in her the same as they trust Lothar. A decade more, perhaps they would. Now? Not a chance.
Which is a phenomenal development for someone who wants to hurt the church, and the church does have a lot of enemies, namely all the other factions on Innistrad. Some of these factions infiltrated deep inside the church and nearly impossible to be discovered. The only thing that prevents them from working together bringing the church down from within is that they hate each other's as much as they hate the church.
But sometimes that was not always the case. Deals could be struck. A temporary alliance could be made. Alas, the church's belief is too rigid to take advantage of it.
So, when their spies among the guard told them of what Lothar is doing, they almost jumped in glee. The more the guardian go against the council, the less attention is on them.
Their time has come. There is no better opportunity for them to strike. The prophecy is about to come true. Their lord is returning. Thraben must burn!
In the dark corner of Thraben, they gathered. In the shadow of the church, they plotted. Wanting. Waiting. Yearning for their reckoning. One such gathering is happening inside the church itself.
The church is old, far older than any other building in Thraben. Many of its corridors hide secrets which only a few know of, and even less so is archived. One such room is now being used for a nefarious purpose. Hidden deep below the surface, there is no other entry except through the church itself. For any normal demonic cult, this would be the worst place possible to meet, but not them. They are the shadow in the church itself, their public appearance is those of bishops and inquisitors but, in fact, they are corrupted priests and clerics biding their time for their master's revival.
"Agent Barbalarious sent us the latest news. Whatever she lacks in a normal-sounding name, she made up in skills and passion for our cause. The Guardian's is alone with his distraught disciple as we planned. The manipulation of the girl's emotion works perfectly, almost too perfect, as expected from Asmodai." Said the hooded figure. "Commence the next phase of our operation. There must be no mistake. Our lord and savior, Griselbrand, returning is neigh, and we will not fail him."
…
There is a saying "The truth shall set you free". To let go of the burden of lies and secrets and face the problem head on. Thalia knows the phrase well, as do all those who were raised by the church. Growing up, it was drilled into her head that lies against the church and her superiors would be met with uttermost severe punishment. The church expected only the truth and nothing but the truth. Then she grew up and realized it was not true. Everyone kept their secrets. The phrase was just another honeyed word to keep the bottom in control.
As of now, she realized how wrong she was. Not that her previous statement was not true. No, she believes it still is. The only difference is the sheer depth of length the church will go to enforce its rule, no matter how little the misgiving was. Or maybe it is just Lothar's.
She tells Lothar her truth. He responses with a dagger-like glare. If stares could kill, she would be dead thrice over. But then something strange happens. His gaze shifted. Although it still yearning for blood, it also gives her a warm feeling. Like a disappointed father when they found out his daughter is eloping with a werewolf. That might be a bit too specific, but Thalia had a very vivid imagination.
'FUCK. I should go straight into the letter's content. Why did I go in so much detail about our meetings?' She internally cursed. The urge to smash her head into the nearby stone wall is neighed unbearable. How stupid could she have been? Too late for it now.
She tries to look for a sign on her mentor's face. There is none. It could mean two things, either Lothar is in deep thinking or she is about to be executed. Sure, the latter might be a bit dramatic, but anything could happen during a trying time. So, when Lothar opens his mouth, Her heart is clutched tight.
"Girl. Thalia. I will ask you again. Are you in love with this …. Jon?" He asked.
Wait. What?
"Are you. Or are you not. In love with this deceptive abomination?" He asked again.
"NO!" She hastily answered. Her cheeks turn redder than. "Never!" She pauses and heavily breathes.
When her mind catches up with her, it makes her realizes that what she hastily answered was not true. Alas, there is no turning back now. Going back on her word now would end with Lothar's blade on through her chest. She knows her mentor well. Lothar hates liars and traitors even more than enemies.
Lothar, on the other hand, shifts. His frown lessens. No longer infuriated by her story, or so she thought.
"Good. I will overlook your childhood foolishness. Everyone made mistake, Thalia. All we could do is to learn from it. Rectify it. Do you understand?" Said Lothar. His word makes her smile inside, a smile she could not show. "But you will not be forgiven. Yet."
Wait. What?
"Until you bring me its head, you will be constantly watched. His death will be your rise. Not many would have a chance to face their demon, or in this case a werewolf." He declares.
Wait. What?
Shocked. Thalia is shocked. Her mentor knows she is shocked. So, he continues. "I know you might feel that you're unworthy of the title after your past misdeeds. I, however, see it another way. Instead of keep hiding, you came to me. You let the truth set you free. In my eyes, you seek redemption, and you will be granted redemption. You had face darkness and came out purer than before. There is no one worthier to inherit my position, dear apprentice."
He places his hand on her shoulder. "For that to happen, we need proof of your righteous seal and commitment to our cause. The werewolf's head would suffice. It will be a worthwhile trophy for you."
Hearing that, Thalia tried to argue, but her mentor cut her off.
"No buts, my apprentice. I know you're worried. This monster is not normal. It is rare for a werewolf to remain in its disguised form and walk among us undetected. It is even rarer for one to have such cunning. But do not sell yourself short. You are more powerful than you think."
That's not her thought. At all. But at this point, she is too afraid to interrupt him.
"Heroes always rise from the crisis, dear apprentice. Do not doubt. Do not fear. Avacyn will guide you." Lothar gave a fatherly smile. Even with his previously rough and angry outburst, his charisma still shines through. "You're like a daughter to me Thalia. There is no better joy for me than you staying true to our cause and make me proud. "
The young cathar shudders when she heard the last part. Lothar is like a father to her, but she has never known that he also sees himself the same. Troubling. This just makes things a lot more complicated.
Wait a minute, that's not what she risks her neck for.
'Oh yes, the other part of the letter.' She recalls. 'Why didn't I just mention that?'
"And what about the warning? Should we increase the security for the Lunarch just in case?" She asked.
She notices her mentor tensed. His eyes dart around the room as his gaze turns deadly. He grunts. GRUNTS. Something is wrong. Very wrong.
"Lunarch can take care of himself! You will have another task. Find the werewolf and bring its head to me. If you cannot bring yourself to take it live, then you can die with it."
Strangeness aside, Thalia would be livid had she not notice a secret hand sign her mentor gave her. Thinking nothing else, she nods and quickly leaves the room in anger. Her sword is drawn and ready to strike everything that bar her way.
…
Alone again, Lothar takes a deep breath. What happened tonight has confirmed it. The church itself is corrupted, and the traitors are playing their hands. There is no way the attack on Thraben could be done by those necromancers alone.
Demonic cult. He always knows they are up to something big, but to think that they want to destroy the Helvault? That's even more troubling. The secret of Helvault is only shared among the highest echelon of the church. If the cult is involved, it is as good as guaranteed traitors among their rank. By the look of it, it is not just one or two agents either. How many cardinals are heretics? How many brothers and sisters are traitors? If they still survive after this battle, he will purge them root and stem.
With a grunt, Lothar dropped his charade face. The game played among the upper echelon of the church is tiresome. He hates it, but that doesn't mean he didn't play it well. Deception is key and he would not last long without mastering it. Thalia is not ready. His apprentice is too naïve. Too inexperience. She will become a puppet for those glorified clerks if she succeeds him now. Not that he planned on dying anytime soon, but if he were the enemy, he would try his best to get rid of the real competent leader first.
For example, RIGHT NOW.
Lothar takes a deep breath and draws his sword. They had arrived for quite some time, before he sent Thalia away, even. They hide well, but not well enough.
"Since you have already come here, why bother hiding. Heretics." He casually speaks with neither fear nor anger in his voice. "Or cowards like you used to deal in the shadow so much, you cannot stand in the light anymore."
*CLAP*CLAP*CLAP*CLAP*
"Such bravado, O' Guardian of Thraben, is worthy of respect. Foolish, but respectable nonetheless." A figure emerges from the shadow, right in front of Lothar's line of sight. The said figure dons a cleric robe, but the insignia of Avacyn's collar is replaced by a head with four horns.
What can you say? Some idiotic showoffs just do not get how to blend in.
Lothar eyes turn into a glare as he called out the traitor name. "Demitri."
"It hurts isn't it, brother," Demitri mocking said as twenty more figures emerge from the shadow. "Having someone so …."
"No. Not at all." Lothar replied. "I'm glad it's you really. It lessens my future work by a lot. Congratulations, for the first time in your life you are being useful."
"What!"
"You are a fucked-up childish twat, Demetri. Your skill is ordinary. It only via your disgusting networking and political move that you can raise to an elite cathar." Lothar smiles. "Truth be told, if you are not a traitor, I will forge a fake evidence to rid of you after this anyway."
"WHAT!"
"Do I have to reiterate? You are a pathetic weakling who always try to circumvent the rule. Always trying to gain more attention and recognition without pulling your own weight." Lothar laughs. "Truth be told, I always look for a way to eliminate people like you from the council for a long time. Since you so eagerly reveal yourself, I couldn't let an opportunity go to waste, couldn't I?"
"Fool! Didn't you realize you are surrounded? One order and you are dead." Demitri screams. He snaps his finger. No doubt he is trying to look cool giving a command like a mob boss.
The hooded figure doesn't move. They look at each other but not move.
Irritated, He shout. "What are you waiting for. That's a universal signal for 'Attack'. KILL HIM!"
Lothar doesn't wait for the mass to descend upon him. Who do they think he is, a greenhorn who would freeze when surrounded by enemies? Fools. Instead, he quickly cast a shield spell and lunges at the nearest target. His blade sings as it slices through flesh and spills blood.
This is too easy. But then again, Demitir is in charge so that is to be expected.
Lothar makes a short work of the cultists. His sword slice through the robed figure like a hot knife through butter. Blood spews like a fountain as he brings his sheath up to block an incoming dagger. With a flick of his wrist, he disarms the weapon and smacks its wielder across the head. The third enemy rushes him from his front just in time for him to move his sword to parry the blow. Before he could go for a kill, the fourth emerges from his back and plunged a dagger on his shoulder. Luckily, his shield spell held and absorbed the blow.
"A shield spell!" Yelled Demitri. "Only a coward uses a spell, Lothar."
"A loser mentality. No wonder you never accomplish anything worthwhile." Lothar mocked as he slams his head against his perpetrator's nose before disposing of him with a blunt force using his enhanced strength. "Not unexpected from you."
"How long could it hold? Even cheating, you will still die! Mock me all you want. It would make your death more satisfying."
The smirk on the traitor's face is one of the reasons why Lothar hates him. One of many, MANY reasons. That and constant whining when throughout their training years. Had he told anyone that they were squadmates when they started out as a young cathar? Nope. Never. Everyone who knew should all already been rotting six feet under.
And even if they didn't, they probably hate Demitri enough not to claim any sort of relations with the loser. He is sure of it. No one that knew that piece of shit would love him unless there were a lot of benefits involved. And by "a lot" he means "A LOT!"
Truly true to his experience, Lothar doesn't let down his guard even when facing such weak foes. His move is fluid like a raging river as he dispatches even when he received a staggering blow. The one he parried was met the sword running through the heart. The one that stabbed him in the shoulder was elbowed right on the nose before being cut in two. His enemies are not trained soldiers, he is sure of that. There is no basic protective spell he expected a traitorous cathar would know. There is neither an offensive spell nor a binding spell that he mentally prepared against either.
It is too easy.
Which means something is wrong. If they want him dead, they should not bring such useless assassins no matter the numbers.
Lothar turns into a fury of blades as he strolls, strides, swaggers and swirls, spins, slashes, and stabs at stupid scums. All with an inkling of whatever Demitri is planning, but it does not slow him down. One by one, his enemy falls. One by one, their foul blood dirtied the room. Soon, there are none left. The traitors don't even hesitate to throw their life away. Such fanaticism is quite commendable. It was as if they were mind-controlled.
MIND CONTROL.
OH.
Lothar's eyes widen at the suspicion. Some could say it is a surprising reaction. And Demitri notices it. Of course, the traitor would notice it. He probably planned to use it against him. Or to be more specific, the demonic cult planned it and let Demitri in charge.
"Finally realized it, don't you? All the people you killed in this room. Everyone, and I mean, EVERYONE! All of them are under our absolute control! You, the great guardian of Thraben, killed innocent servants of the church!" Demitri laughs. "When the people know of this, you are done! DONE! How would your men follow you? How would your little whore apprentice trust you? How …"
'So that's their plan.' Thought Lothar. It would be an image disaster had it get out. It would be a huge blow to their morale.
Not that he didn't prepare for this scenario.
"Fools." Lothar spits. Then he grins. "If that is indeed your plan then you …." He pauses. "Actually, it is as I expected of you. A sacrificial pawn."
"WHAT!" Demitri yells in disbelief. No. It is more like denial. Lothar refuses to believe he is smart enough to have a complex thought. Nor capable of planning something like this without, well getting killed in a process.
"Even your masters think of you as a worthless piece to be thrown away. As it should be." Mocked Lothar. If his calculation is correct, Thalia should return with his soldiers at any moment. "Don't you see? The framing would only work if people questions me. But those that going to come through that door are loyal to me. There will be no questioning, only obedience. And everything that you hoped for would be swept under the rug."
"WHAT!" The fool screams.
*BANG*
The door to the room was burst wide open with a blinding light. Out came Thalia followed by the entire elite guard under Lothar's command. Their weapons are drawn and ready to unleash death to all the traitors had he not slain them all. A perfect unity as they should be.
"Protect the Guardian! Kill all the …" Thalia shouts her command even before the light dies down. At least she has the decency to pause when she realizes the situation. "…. Oh."
Always be an overly dramatic little one. Ah youth. Never mind. She would grow up eventually.
"I hope we are not too late, Sir." Said Thalia, as a proper protocol should be. "I see that you had already dealt with the traitors. Well, except one. Is that brother Demitri of the Lake Guards?"
Lothar gives no response. He would not acknowledge anything related to Demitri. Never.
"Lieutenant Thalia. The man before you are a demon worshipper. Hence, all his rank is to be ignored. His authority absolved. His life forfeited." He commands. "Proof to me that you are ready for your trail by defeating him. I want him alive just enough for interrogations. The rest of you will bear witness to the candidate for the next Guardian of Thraben."
"Yes, Sir!" They all shout.
…
"FOOLS. YOU ARE ALL FOOLS. LOTHAR KILLED INNOCENTS AND YOU DIDN'T BAT AN EYE. YOU ARE ALL TRAITORS." Demitri's scream is borderline incoherent.
He draws his sword and lunges at Lothar, who doesn't even move an inch at the incoming danger. He, however, got interrupted by Lothar's little bitch pet. Their blade locks. His momentum is all gone. The bitch is stronger than she looks.
"Move bitch. Your master is lying to you. He is a traitor to the church." Demitri demand falls to deaf ears. Of course, who would believe him when he wore a symbol of a demon on his cloth.
"An accusation from a demon worshipper holds no weight. The same can be said for your swordmanship." The bitch exerts more power and pushes him back.
The audacity of the bitch! He will kill her. No. He will destroy life, crush her spirit, and damn her soul. But not before he skews her first.
They disengage as he tactically retreats, betting on her inexperience to exploit her mistakes. The bitch follows through and attack from the left. She is fast, he gives her that, but so does he. They trade blows for a few moves before he could see some pattern in the bitch's attack.
Time to go for a kill.
"You are stronger than you look, bitch." Said Dimitri as he parries a blow coming for his neck. In retaliation, he faints an overhead swing, the bitch follows and overextends herself. With an opening, he goes for a kill, jamming his sword between her ribs.
The blows bounce off her skin as a holy shield intercepts the blade and thwarts its trajectory.
Shit.
It is his turn to be exposed, and the bitch capitalized on it. The blade comes crashing through his shoulder and almost tears off his shield arm. Of course, the blade is enchanted. His protective armaments did little to stop such attacks. With one arm gone, his defeat is neigh. The bitch doesn't relent and keep up the attack. His defense soon crumbled as the strength leaving him. No longer than two more blows, he is disarmed.
Had he known how to use a shield spell; he would not suffer such a fate. Alas, his hubris was his undoing. That or just sheer stupidity, as Lothar would suggest.
With the bitch's sword against his throat, Dimitri speaks what he would think would be his final words. And he intends to sow as much discord as possible. "Well done. Sister Thalia. Well done indeed."
"Surrender, traitor. You are defeated and you will answer for your crimes against the church and humanity itself." The bitch remains stoic, reciting what she needs to say to the letter.
"You call me a traitor. A heretic." He spits. Time to go for the kill. "Then what's that made you, werewolf lover? Hiding among the church best waiting for your abominable mate to claim you when the time is right."
The bitch's eyes widened. "YOU!" She yelled.
It is clear that Thalia is losing her cool. He knows that he is getting into her head. So he double down.
"I do wonder, though. What makes an orphan raised by the church like you turncoat. A dog-cock perhaps. I heard it getting bigger when it gets into its mate's body." He continues as the blade at his throat is shaken.
A little bit more, and there will be an opening.
"Oh. I know all about you and that animal. Jon Snow is its name, isn't it? I wonder, how much of our secret had you already shared with that monster. How many more would you give them before you kill the Lunarch and escape into the wild."
Her skin becomes pale as her face dawns something he registered very well.
FEAR.
Seeing the bitch become paler and paler makes him happy, even though his fate is sealed. The bitch's skin is so pale it eerily glows. And the bitch's eyes shine bright gleaming white.
Wait a minute, that's not fear!
…
Custom Card of the Chapter
Name: Trash Talk
Mana Cost: B
Type: Sorcery
Card Text: Name a type. Target player reveals all the cards with the same type from their hand. You may insult target player once this turn without getting a Judge call.
Flavor Text: "Your mama's butt is so huge, she got exiled by Pillar of Light."
Rarity: Uncommon
