Chapter Five

The Eternal City

Mikieru Makimachi knotted his eyebrows in intense concentration as his Peco-peco barreled mercilessly through the clouds.

Clouds, indeed. Who would have thought.

This was his fifth day of riding through the Schwartzvald wilderness. He had caught sight of his destination yesterday—the majestic floating city of Juno—and he had decided not to stop for the night. The sun was rising now, but he could not see it. He was riding through a dense cumulonimbus cloud that floated around Juno's massive, rising Land Bridge. In a moment, he and his Peco-peco would emerge from the cold white mist into the majesty of the Eternal City.

Juno and the sunrise greeted Mikieru as he rode through the Eternal City's gates. Some took notice of him as he rode by—guards, civilians, children—but none dared to stop him or question his identity. The combination of his black Cleric's coat, silver cross, and round-rimmed dark glasses made him known immediately to the populace.

Mikieru had never been to Juno before, but his deeds were quite well-known here. Juno was the seat of the Holy Church. It has been some time since the Church began to train its Apprentices here, in preparation for their missions on many parts of Midgard. The lives of Clerics past and present were avid topics of discussion and deep study here, and the Kitsune has earned some renown among the younger Brave Acolytes in the hierarchy—although the reasons ranged from his stalwart performances in his Acolytehood to the eminence of the man who was once his Master.

The Cleric had no trouble finding his way through the cobblestone streets. His Master's last instruction, given to him almost six years ago, echoed in his mind:

"Do not forget the place to find me in Juno. I doubt you will survive this War, but if by chance you do… then you will realize all along that I was correct in everything I had taught you."

Mikieru did survive the War. And now, he was going to meet his Master again.

The Cleric rode onto a ridge that overlooked the entire floating city, and he stopped his Peco-peco. He removed his dark glasses and took a good look at Juno, feeling the Eternal City's uncorrupted atmosphere moving through his being.

Juno was everything the books had claimed, and more. A clear sky hung perpetually over the city—there was neither rain nor snow in Juno. Flora and fauna teemed with life nonetheless, seemingly nurtured by the very air they breathed and the soil they laid their supports upon. Many buildings had no roofs—there was often no need for such—and people lived, worked, and played in the open. The avenues were alive with buyers and Merchants alike, going about their daily lives under the shadows of Juno's arches, statues, and fountains. It was, in a sense of speaking, perfect—but none of this elicited any emotion from Mikieru's stone-face, until the Cleric turned his eyes eastward and saw, for the first time, the spires of St. Capitolina Square—the Home of the Pious, and the very headquarters of the Holy Church itself.

Mikieru's mouth tightened at the stunning sight. With a flick of his wrists, he set his Peco-peco into motion again—and he rode at top-speed towards the Square, stopping at absolutely nothing.

•••

"Look!"

"That man has the Redeemer!"

"My God! Is that the Kitsune?"

"Why is he here?"

Awe and tension gripped the halls of St. Capitolina Square's East Wing, which was where the Holy Church's educational pursuits were concentrated. Acolytes and young Priests regularly studied in its halls, libraries, and repositories, and their Instructors made sure silence was observed in the Wing at all times. However, there was no stopping the gasps and tense glances that followed Mikieru as he made his way towards his Master's hall.

Some adulating Acolytes, seeing their hero for the first time in their lives, even left their study sessions to follow the Kitsune. The whispering mob walked after the Cleric, but kept a respectful distance—it was obvious by the way Mikieru walked that he was here on a mission of importance, and would not be hindered in any way. They never missed a step throughout the marble halls, the statue repository, and the grand staircase.

The older Priests in the East Wing also took notice of Mikieru, but they did not share the excited sentiments of the Acolytes. As known for his deeds as Mikieru was, he was also known for the rift between him and his Master. Many feared the Kitsune, but the Kitsune's Master was feared by all. Apprehension was ripe in the East Wing as it became apparent that Mikieru was heading towards his Master's office—and he had the Redeemer strapped to his back!

•••

Mikieru walked down a marble hall that was considerably less well-lighted than the other parts of the East Wing. He walked on until he reached a pair of large, steel-braced doors. A plaque beside the doorjamb read the words:

OFFICE OF THE HIGH EXORCIST

Lionheart

With one hand on the shaft of the Redeemer behind him, Mikieru approached the doors and pushed them open with one shove of his other hand.

The tall black doors opened with loud creaks, and Mikieru walked into the office hall. He was undaunted even by the men and women in black coats that stood inside the office, grouped around a large oaken desk.

Clerics.

With his uncovered eyes, Mikieru stared at each Cleric in turn. Every one of them recognized him, but the looks in their eyes showed uncertainty. Mikieru had no doubt that if he ever tried to take the Redeemer from the latches of his coat, these Clerics would gladly draw their own weapons and give their lives to protect the man standing behind the desk.

Mikieru then looked into the eyes of his Master.

The features of the old man had not changed much since the day they went their separate ways. He was still huge and heavyset, and still wore the same heavily-plated armor that served him well during the Frontier War. His head was a shock of short white hair, and a full white beard lined his face—yet his eyebrows were still black, giving his piercing blue eyes a menacing appearance as he returned his Apprentice's stare with his own.

The other Clerics shot unsure glances between Mikieru and the High Exorcist. They had heard news of the Kitsune's arrival earlier, and they had immediately come to the High Exorcist's side in fears for his safety. They waited for any words to be exchanged between the two.

Mikieru said nothing. His chin slightly lowered and his eyebrows narrowed in hostility, he stared at his Master with unrelenting blue-and-green eyes. He needed no introduction to the old man.

"So," the High Exorcist announced in a deep voice, "the Prodigal Apprentice returns."

Mikieru did not answer.

"I see you have gone through great dangers to make the journey here," the old man continued, eyeing the unshaven stubble beard on Mikieru's jawline. "Am I to expect that you are here to offer your due apologies?"

At this, Mikieru did answer.

"Apologies may be due and regrets may be deserved," he said calmly, never losing the intensity in his stare. "But indulgence in these will have to wait another day."

The other Clerics visibly tensed up at the Kitsune's audacity, but the High Exorcist was not impressed.

"As it is, then," the old man countered. "I have it in me to have you washed head to toe, have a new cloak wrapped around your shoulders and have a gemmed ring put on your finger. I have it in me to slaughter the best ox in the herd for a feast in your honor… and yet you deny yourself this?"

"I do not ask for your patronage, Father," Mikieru retorted. "I am not your son."

At this, the other Clerics clenched their fists. Some of them bared their teeth in anger, almost drawing their weapons at Mikieru's challenges—only the High Exorcist's calm kept them from attacking the Kitsune.

"Your Holy Siblings, here, do not take kindly to challenges," the old man warned. "But you have even greater to fear from me, Mikieru, if you do not hold your tongue. Even if you were once my Apprentice, you hold little remaining favor with me. State your business and be done with this farce."

Again, Mikieru eyed each of the other Clerics in turn. Then he took his hand off the shaft of the Redeemer and faced the High Exorcist.

"I need to speak with you on a certain matter," Mikieru said quietly. "Its importance is such that can be comprehended by only you."

The High Exorcist said nothing for a moment. Then the old man closed his eyes opened them again, indicating it was an acceptable request.

But Mikieru was not finished. "In private," he insisted.

Stunned, the other Clerics looked at the High Exorcist—and each was even more surprised when the old man nodded at them, whispering: "It is well." They had no choice but to leave the old man with the Kitsune.

Each of them filed for the door, shooting a hostile glance at Mikieru as they passed him by. Mikieru kept his stare on his Master, even after the other Clerics closed the doors shut behind them.

The High Exorcist made his way to the front of the table. Then he crossed his gauntleted arms in front of his heavily-armored chest.

"Speak," the old man commanded.

Mikieru slowly took two steps towards the High Exorcist. Then he went down on one knee, extending his arms slightly behind him. This was the highest form of respect in the Church—the genuflection—and the Kitsune was offering it to the man who was once his Master.

"Thank you for having me," Mikieru intoned, "Father Rubalkabara."

•••

The Militant Church—or more widely known those days as simply the Church—was the core elite of God's forces on Midgard, consisting of two fundamental divisions. These were the Pious and the Brave Clergies. The Pious Clergy were the scholastics: Acolytes and Presbyters tasked with the interpretation of the Holy Scriptures and the dissemination of this wisdom to the lands of Midgard. They were also the healers—where plague and famine struck, it was the Pious Clergy's duty to alleviate the people's suffering. Pious Acolytes and Presbyters were the champions of the poor and the oppressed, and their deeds were well-known across Midgard.

And then there was the Brave Clergy—the armed forces of the Militant Church. This division consisted of Battle Acolytes—Battlytes as they were nicknamed—and the Battle Priests, better known as the Clerics. The Brave Clergy were the enemies of the evil powers-that-be in Midgard those days, always ready to do battle with Demons, Undead, and misguided Humans. This widely-misunderstood arm of the Militant Church had suffered a massive decline lately, due to heavy losses during the Frontier War—and due to the rise of the widely popular philosophy known as Freethinking, which rejected the idea of God and the supernatural and instead promoted consumerism and individualism.

Despite these setbacks, the Brave Clergy still held its ground in Midgard—and on the forefront of their stalwart stand was the greatest Cleric alive, High Exorcist Algus Rubalkabara—known to most people as the mighty "Lionheart."

•••

Rubalkabara gazed down at Mikieru for a few moments, noting how his former Apprentice managed to keep himself still in a perfect genuflection. Even in his youth, Mikieru had already caught Rubalkabara's attention with his excellent control of his body. His prowess in combat earned him his ordination into the Brave Priesthood at the young age of 18.

"Rise," the High Exorcist said after a moment.

Mikieru obeyed, slowly rising to his feet.

Rubalkabara wordlessly turned around and walked towards an adjacent sitting room in his office hall, his heavy greaves making metallic sounds with every step he took. Mikieru followed, noting how even his own large frame seemed thin in comparison with the old man's huge build.

"I am surprised you would come to me after all this time," Rubalkabara commented, reaching to turn up the firelight in a tabletop oil lamp. "I cannot think of any reason that would merit me the honor of your visit."

Mikieru glanced about the sitting room. It was neatly furnished, with Junotopian furniture set around a large stone fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, and three large door-windows opened onto a balcony—but these were closed at the moment, and the heavy drapes that fell in front of them were still.

"I am curious as to what you are expecting me to tell you," Mikieru answered calmly.

"Not so much expecting as in hoping," the old man drawled, walking towards the fireplace. "I am hoping—perhaps in vain—that you are here to apologize for the things that I berated you over many times in the past. Your involvement in suspect secular practices, your brash attitude, your drinking problem—and everything in between. I am hoping the War made you realize some things, but I am more inclined to believe that it only succeeded in thickening your skull even further."

An audible sound of amusement escaped Mikieru's lips, but he did not say anything right away. He watched, hands in his long coat's pockets, as Rubalkabara took a plank of dry firewood from a rack and snapped them into two with just his hands.

"Master," Mikieru began, "what I am about to ask you is of no trivial value. I need to talk with you about the Chronicles of Yosuke."

Rubalkabara visibly stopped for a moment.

Then the old man sighed, throwing a piece of firewood into the hearth. "Why the sudden interest, Mikieru?" Rubalkabara asked, not turning to face his former Apprentice. "If I recall correctly, you resented my involvement with Yosuke's writings even more than my witty insults."

"Because Yosuke may have been correct all along."

At this, Rubalkabara straightened and turned to face Mikieru. This was a comment that he never thought Mikieru would say in his lifetime, let alone at this very moment.

"I am listening," Rubalkabara intoned.

Mikieru walked towards the table with the oil lamp, the firelight illuminating his tall frame as he approached. "What do you know about the uprising in Al de Baran two years ago?"

The High Exorcist thought for a moment. "You were there," he answered. "You and the Payon Shousa stopped Garrione Sheppard's uprising, and afterwards you were able to destroy a Wraith summoned by the Payon Taishou… who was behind the scheme all along. What of it, Mikieru?"

Mikieru eyed the flame in the oil lamp. It reminded him of the flames in Al de Baran that day. It helped him find the right words to say.

"The historians do not know one thing," the Cleric continued. "It was no Wraith that the Taishou summoned. Wraiths do not speak to people. This one did. To me. In the Archaic tongue.And when I asked for its name, it gave it to me. It told me that her name was Urd."

Mikieru looked up at Rubalkabara.

"The Old Nordic Norn of the Past," Mikieru finished simply.

The High Exorcist held Mikieru's stare. "What is your proof of this?" the old man asked quietly.

Wordlessly, Mikieru reached into an inside pocket of his coat. With one hand, he drew out the two Stones.

One was from a friend.

The Cleric laid the Stones on the tabletop, allowing the oil lamp to illuminate the tiny Nordic runes on their faces.

One was from an enemy.

Mikieru straightened, and returned his hands into his pockets. He looked up at Rubalkabara again, waiting for any reaction to come from the High Exorcist's face.

The old man stared at the Stones in disbelief. Then he looked at Mikieru again.

"Tell me everything, then," the old man urged.

Mikieru likewise obeyed. He told his Master of everything that had happened in Al de Baran that the historians did not know. It was not a Wraith that was summoned in that battle. It was not the Taishou who planned it all. And it was not he who defeated the creature known as Urd.

•••

Mikieru followed Rubalkabara into another part of the large office hall, a vault in one corner that had thick stone walls and no windows. The High Exorcist moved led his former Apprentice down a dark stairwell that led into another steel-braced door at the end, which opened into a dark, dusty library.

"I am surprised the Church actually let you keep your copies of Yosuke's Chronicles within St. Capitolina Square itself," Mikieru noted, squinting into the library's dark interior. "I always thought the High Priests would ban it as Sorcery."

Rubalkabara shook his head, briskly walking towards a small podium in front of the door. "Yosuke knew what he was doing when he wrote his ideas," the old man explained hastily, reaching forward to touch a crystal on the podium. "He knew that his studies about the legends of the Nomads and Old Norse bordered on heretical, so he put down his themes in relation to Church dogma. His Chronicles have never been published, but as Church theory, the manuscripts are tasked to be kept by a safekeeper. Me."

Mikieru watched as Rubalkabara channeled some of his mana into the crystal. In a moment, several other crystals lining the walls of the small library glowed to life, illuminating its dusty bookshelves and scroll receptacles. This was a system of lighting that was special to Juno—special crystals that were powered by organic mana and offered soft, diffused lighting in all directions. Mikieru's eyes were so unused to the steady glows of the crystals that he had to wear his round-rimmed dark glasses before he surveyed the library.

It seemed as though the library had not been used for years, and yet Rubalkabara had managed to fill most of the bookshelves with his own studies about Yosuke's Chronicles.

•••

Mikieru knew little about the enigmatic Cleric Amaru Yosuke, who was Rubalkabara's first Apprentice. What Mikieru did know about Yosuke, though, was enough to make him decide not to look any further into his life and works. Among other ideas unacceptable to Mikieru, Yosuke suggested the existence of Fate—that all beings in Midgard had a pre-destiny that was unavoidable. Mikieru disliked the idea with a passion. He, and the Church, had always advocated Mankind's freedom of choice. That his own Master, Algus Rubalkabara, tolerated Yosuke's Chronicles was an infamy for Mikieru in his youth.

•••

"Stay at the door, Mikieru," Rubalkabara ordered as he walked towards the end of the library. The High Exorcist took a few scrolls from the shelves and walked towards a podium that faced the door. Placing the scrolls on the podium, he removed the seals and opened each of them in turn.

From his position at the entrance doorway, Mikieru tried in vain to see the contents. "What are those?" he asked.

"Yosuke's Chronicles," Rubalkabara said, not looking up at Mikieru. "Or rather, certain parts of Yosuke's Chronicles pertaining to his studies on the Old Norse legends."

Mikieru bit his lip. "You think he wrote about Urd?"

"I know he wrote about Urd, among many other things in the Old Norse legends. I am specifically looking for what he had written about those Stones of yours."

Silence.

"He wrote about these Stones?" Mikieru asked, stunned.

"Yosuke wrote about many things," Rubalkabara answered, still poring over the scrolls. "But for the most sensitive topics—like those that contrasted some of the beliefs that the Church has held over the centuries—he wrote in riddles and cryptic poetry. I seem to remember having pondered over one of his more oracular prophecies… about two to open the door…"

Mikieru knotted his brow. "What…?" he whispered.

All of a sudden Rubalkabara stopped moving, his eyes fixed on one spot in the scroll he was reading. Then he straightened, his eyes still on the text, his lips parted in deep concentration.

"Here it is," he whispered.

Mikieru made a move to approach his Master, but Rubalkabara held up a hand in a halting gesture.

"Do not come closer, Mikieru," the High Exorcist commanded, not looking up at the Cleric. "If you read from these writings, I will be forced to keep you in Juno forever. No, stay at the doorway. I will recite it to you once. Listen carefully to what Yosuke had prophesized."

Mikieru obeyed, allowing Rubalkabara's words to etch themselves into his memory forever.

•••

Fire to rage in the city of coal,

Darkness to rule its hills,

And swaddle hope with gloom's black shoal

As summon the Tides it will.

From the chaos Two will emerge,

Two to open the door,

Two to herald the early Rise

And seven brothers more.

•••

Mikieru stood unmoving as the words sank in.

Fire.

Dark.

The city of coal.

"This… can't be," Mikieru whispered.

Al de Baran was the city of coal.

"Two to open the door for seven brothers more," Rubalkabara drawled grimly. "Mikieru, aside from the idea of Fate, Yosuke also suggested that Mankind's existence on Midgard had an eschatology—an end, a twilight, a Ragnarok. I will not elucidate any further for your sake. What I can tell you is this: he prophesized that the emergence of the Two was the beginning of it all. He referred to this… as the Tides Of The Rise."

Stunned, Mikieru looked down at the two Stones in his gloved right hand.

"The Tides of the Rise…" he muttered in disbelief.

"Mikieru," the old man said in a quivering voice.

•••

"This is the beginning of the End."

•••

End of Chapter Five