Children of the Horned Rat,
I apologize for the slow pace of writing. I had a big computer issue lately, and I thought I might lose all my data. Luckily, I made it out, but the story took late.
Hope the plot continues to interest you. I've noticed that some people are talking about it right-to-left on Warhammer-branded forums, which is always pleasant. Well, sometimes I've seen people criticize my English; of course, being French born from French parents and not being an English teacher, I have trouble rendering exactly what I write in French, especially for certain expressions, because I want to use more applied expression than those you can find in high school lessons exercises.
Thank you for your understanding. Please also feel free to send me messages, I will reply to them.
To end on a positive note, I invite you to visit the DeviantArt ChildrenOfPsody page. You will discover Mennina's last-born character, who has become a canonical person in my fanfiction. You won't see her right away, I'll make her appear in the short stories I'll publish after having finished The Rat Kingdom. Be patient, but enjoy her adorable face anyway. Danke schön, Mennina!
Glory to the Horned Rat!
The union between Martha Spiegel and Fritz Hafner was to remain for a long time as a particularly joyful moment, where happiness had been shared by all participants without exception. And like any moment of great joy, with time, hearts grew heavier, the little annoyances invisible the day before regained their rights over the good course of life, and no one was safe from a surge of bad mood.
This was the state of mind the Master Mage was in that morning, three days after the wedding. For the sixth time (or seventh? he had lost count), his younger son was harping on his ears with the question he had been asking him regularly for almost a year now.
- I would like you to take the time to think a little this time.
Psody's forehead wrinkled. Sigmund felt a small prick of ice tickle his heart. The crevices in his father's forehead looked as dangerous for what he had just asked for as a chasm for a traveller walking over a rickety bridge. His fears were confirmed when he heard his voice say in a neutral tone:
- The answer is still "no", Siggy. I'm sorry.
The Black Skaven immediately got angry.
- But why? WHY, for Verena's sake?
- We already talked about it. My arguments remain the same. The ones you just introduced to me did not convince me.
- Look, you would do a good deed, with a good answer!
- That's exactly-precisely what I'm doing.
Sigmund yelped in frustration.
- So, no way to change your mind!
- Not until you prove to me you've changed.
- What do I have to do?
- Show me you have a good head-brains on your shoulders! Show me you are someone responsible, well-grounded, with a right sense of priorities!
- I stopped drinking!
- It's not enough-enough, Siggy. This is progress, I agree, but more is needed.
The Black Skaven was about to give up. But his customary obstinacy made him insist one last time.
- You would really make someone happy if you answered "yes" to my question, Father!
- I'm not so sure, sonny. But you don't realize it. The whole problem is there.
Without a further word, Sigmund firmly turned his back on his father and left his office with a determined step. He waited until he got a few yards between himself and the door to mutter nasty things. It was barely if he noticed the presence of his grandfather and the Bright Magister Brisingr Steadyhand crossing his path. He hastily retired to his quarters, and locked the door behind him.
He let out a frustrated yelp, clenched his fists, and waved them above his head, but he realized what he was doing. Furious with himself, he fell silent, and sank down onto a sofa.
He didn't move a muscle during an indefinable time, in the heavy silence of the living room. Then he decided to try to think of something else.
Time for my poison.
The tall Black Skaven reached into his waistcoat pocket, and pulled out a small leather cylinder. He opened it, took out a small glass tube, one end of which was encased in a dried, and made elastic with appropriate treatment animal bladder. He threw his head back, gently pushed the neck of the tube into his left nostril, and squeezed the bulb. A small squirt of a clear, orange-coloured liquid rose to his sinus. Before feeling the effects, Sigmund did the same with his right nostril. No sooner had he loosened his fingers when the medicine was already rushing to his head. He felt dizzy, with an irresistible urge to cough, which he did not hold back.
What a shit!
His parents and Prior Romulus had promised him that following Sister Judy Hoffnung's advice, alcohol would not be replaced by a more dreaded drug. And yet, he was beginning to have doubts. He remembered, however, that the priestess of Shallya had agreed to space the doses two weeks earlier, now reducing them to one per day. A few more times, maybe a month, and he wouldn't need anymore this decoction made from plants, each more fragrant and irritating than the previous one.
The Prince and the Master Mage contemplated the plan intently, while Brisingr Steadyhand set about describing in detail the structure of the new College of Magic project.
- The Bright College of Altdorf was built on this model, and when I have described it to you, you'll understand why it will be good to take inspiration from it, while also finding a way to perfect it.
The Prince rubbed his nose, and waved the Elf over to begin his presentation.
"The Bright College of Altdorf is located in a separate district, because all the surrounding buildings have burned down, there remains nothing but charred ruins. Of course, we won't set a whole Steinerburg district on fire, but this is a warning: plan a place out of the way. It must be built in an area where the houses are not too close together, and as less flammable as possible. If necessary, encourage a few people to move."
"The building itself is surrounded by very complex magical wards: first, a permanent illusory barrier isolates it from the gaze of onlookers. It must be said that its appearance can only catch the eye: twenty-one towers, each with a huge brazier that exudes smoke of a unique colour. Each fire burns a different component, allowing for multiple experiments that vary as needed. Such a building would probably be admired if it was isolated on a plain, but in the middle of a city, people might constantly fear the risk of fire, or simply be inconvenienced by the sight in the middle of habitations. This illusory barrier will therefore be crucial for the well-being of the citizens of Steinerburg. To go through it, the initiates will have to know by heart a particular procedure: a series of gestures, simple but too precise and varied to be carried out by chance. Once this series is completed, the person is immediately teleported in front of the main door."
"The smell of smoke and combustion then tickles your throat, and you will have to get used to as it wafts through the whole area. The illusory barrier prevents it from embalming the surrounding dwellings, but in the College itself, it is a fact, it smells like if a giant log was burning all the time. Before you can visit it, you will have to pass a large bronze portal, magically heated at all times. Only a mental force in adequacy with Aqshy, the Wind of Fire, allows its opening at a distance without touching it. Behind the gate, there is a lodge with a guard who keeps a list of visitors expected for the day, and the regulations are uncompromising: if you are not part of the College, and if your name doesn't appear on the register, the entry will be refused to you. Of course, if the visitor is a well-known personality such as the Emperor or a Count Elector, a sworn Magister will meet him, and will be able to verify the authenticity of his identity. This avoids the risk of letting in an impostor."
"The College itself is made up of seven buildings, arranged around an interior courtyard. All are built of red stone, and the courtyard floor is made up of coloured cobblestones with a pattern of seven keys, each pointing to the centre of one of the seven buildings. Each corner of this seven-sided courtyard has a tower, two towers rise above each building, and in the middle of each building you will find a metal door fitted with seven locks."
"All the interiors of the buildings are made of rock, stone and metal, you can imagine that the use of wood is limited. Lighting is provided by torches, braziers and chimneys, the few windows allow more ventilation than lighting. These are mainly the private apartments of the teachers and magisters who have windows, they overlook the courtyard."
"The College's most valuable items are in a large cellar carved into the rock. Access to this cellar is through a secret passage. The only door to this cellar is obviously armoured, and its walls are reinforced with thick metal plates. Either way, in the unlikely event of an attempted invasion, you can be sure that the faculty members are trained to repel invaders."
The Prince nodded a little.
- Well. So, if the Bright Mages of Altdorf feel good in it and are effective, we should be able to replicate this construct here.
- On a material level, we have what it takes. There are enough suitable rocks, we have the working force, and I can bring in a few magisters interested in promoting outside the Empire to oversee the work and give the first lessons. Where things might get tricky, Your Majesty, is in the bill. You understand that such devices are financially very demanding.
- Let me see.
The Elf took a notebook from his satchel, opened it to a certain page. Steiner narrowed his eyes, and grumbled.
- Is there a way to reduce the costs a bit?
- There is always a way, Your Highness. The problem is the build quality will take a hit.
- So let's not touch anything. Quality is what matters most. I can have that money, but we'll probably have to raise a new tax in the next few months. Since arriving here, I've spent most of Cuelepok's treasure, and Verena knows how much wealth it represented. But peace comes at this price. I shall ask my treasurer to do the math to determine a reasonable tithe, citizens shouldn't feel being squeezed like lemons. How long would it take you to start the work?
- Well... I can send a note to Patriarch Gormann today to ask him magisters. During the necessary time for them to arrive, I can find a place in Steinerburg to build this future College. It will be necessary to hire a foreman and workers...
- Dwarves again? asked the White Skaven.
- Not necessarily, Psody. As much for rebuilding a bridge of Dwarf design, it was judicious, as much for this College, it will be better to make work the citizens of Vereinbarung. They will thus feel invested in this important stage in the history of the Rat Kingdom. On the other hand, Dwarves don't particularly like elven magic, and I don't think we would have many candidates. That, plus the budget forecast and the first instalments… if all goes well, we should be able to do the groundwork in three months.
- Very well, Steadyhand, we will start the work in three months. So spoke the Prince.
The Elf politely nodded with a little smile. In fact, he wanted to jump for joy. Certainly, it was not planned for him to have a place in this new College, or even in the Rat Kingdom, because of his status of Master Vigilant, but the prospect of having given of himself in order to build a building as imposing as that of the capital of Karl Franz's Empire swelled him with pride.
- And how are the works progressing for the new College of Jade, your Highness?
- Well... I gave my approval for the construction about fifteen weeks ago, the work just started three days ago. High Druidess Lucretia has volunteered to lead this enclave, and we should be welcoming more Druids soon.
- I would be curious to see how they proceeded… maybe I should visit them?
- What if I take you there? proposed Psody. I just have to join the High Druidess Lucretia at this hour.
- I'm following you, Psody.
The two magicians took leave of the Prince.
As soon as he arrived in the lands of Vereinbarung, the Prince had planned the creation of a College of Jade. Of course, building other more vital structures had been a priority, but Ludwig Steiner had always kept the idea in the back of his mind. Originally from Talabheim, a city more careful with nature, the presence of green spaces was firmly attached to his own well-being. The temple of Taal and Rhya, then already built, had undergone major repairs. For the College of Jade, the settlers had proceeded otherwise. Gotrek Gurnisson had spotted a particularly unsanitary block in the place that would become the Crown Quarter, where merchants and bankers were based. The Prince had ordered the complete destruction of the buildings and the removal of waste. A large piece of land had thus been abandoned. It was this land that now served as the base for the future College of Jade Magic.
The workers were finishing clearing the house debris still lying on the ground. Others were planting wooden sticks into the ground and tied them with ropes. The White Skaven noticed they were drawing a closed circuit forming a large circle.
- It will be the very heart of our College, explained a soft and serious voice behind him.
The ratman turned, and faced a Human who exhibited some unusual features: first, she was tall, at least as tall as Marjan Gottlieb was. The copper colour of her hair matched her dark skin tone, a sign she had come from southern Tilea, where she had retained a slight accent from. Her dark eyes reflected a soul with solid convictions. Her round face had several blue ink tattoos that emphasized its girth. Most notable were her ears: although completely Human by birth, her ears were elongated, pointed, and slightly downy, like a doe's. Unlike people who didn't know the intricacies of magic and its use, Psody and Brisingr knew it was a sign of a backlash; improperly dosed use of a wind of magic could cause a deflagration and leave such a mark on the practitioner. According to the Wind used, the "mark" adopted a link form. Flaming Mages could end up with hair resembling dancing flames, some Druids exhibited animal features.
This tall, red-haired woman wore a green toga over leather pants, a bronze tiara encircled her abundant hair, and many various trinkets were hung here and there on her clothes – chicken foot, olive branch, fox rib. A dozen eagle talons strung on a simple string around her neck finished describing the function of this Human.
The White Skaven bowed his head.
- High Druidess Lucretia, I salute you.
- May Hoeth brighten your day, Brisingr added.
- It is very kind of you to come, gentlemen, replied the High Druidess. As you can see, the topography of the place is about to be completed, in a few weeks the workers will start the actual construction.
- How do you plan to organize all of this? the Bright Elf asked.
- The main building will be at the centre of our space. We of course plan many areas reserved for Mother Nature: a meadow, a vegetable garden, an enclosure where to put domestic animals, a small mound which will be used to bury the Druids who will prefer to return to the earth rather than a vault in the Gardens of Morr… Everything will be organized around the central building. The biggest work will be the river.
- A river? repeated Brisingr. But there is no river in Steinerburg! The water is channelled through an aqueduct and leaves through the sewers!
- You're right, and precisely, that's why we are talking about major works: the workers will dig improvements to allow a river to flow in this section of the city. The Dwarves of Master Barisson will modify the aqueduct so that it can simultaneously supply a small stream that will pass through it.
- I'm starting to understand the Prince's words when he said he had spent most of Cuelepok's treasure.
Magister Steadyhand followed the course of the future river with his eyes, as his look was attracted by something peculiar.
- Oh, are you planning to craft a small island?
- We are, it will allow us to channel the energies of the water, the heavens and the earth at the same time on an isolated piece of land. An island with a surface area similar to that of a house will be sufficient. Besides, it gave some ideas: the priests of Taal and Rhya asked the Prince for permission to do the same. They would like to create a closed-loop river that would go all the way around their temple.
- Is it only achievable?
- Yes, but again, this work will be very expensive, and taxes will probably not be enough. But I don't feel concerned by this kind of questions.
The Elf raised an eyebrow.
- Well, what is that?
He crossed the cordon and took a few steps in the space intended to become an island, then he stopped in front of a beech tree. It was the only tree in the perimeter, of which it occupied the centre. High Druidess Lucretia explained:
- This district had a public square before it was demolished, and this tree was already there. The Prince asked Master Gurnisson not to touch it.
- Did he? Still, it doesn't look very brave...
And it was true. The beech seemed weakened, as if the years spent in the ruined terrain had gradually emptied it of its vital essence. A few yellow leaves hung from its branches and shook awkwardly. The bark was falling in patches from its trunk, letting visible its dusty, withered, but still clear sapwood. Its roots had painfully lifted the mossy cobblestones, as if to claim with its feeble strength a little more earth.
- You are so concerned with the well-being of the living, you are not afraid to torture this tree leaving it in agony, High Druidess?
- It is not "in agony", Master Steadyhand. It's in bad shape, but we can save it.
- What if it was carrier of vermin-disease?
- I examined it a few days ago, Master Mage. On that side, there is nothing to fear. It's true it looks bad today, but maybe that's why the Prince wanted to keep it? To give it another chance? Your father loves nature. And then there is the symbolism; I know his story, he went through very difficult times, too, and thought he would end up also stunted and withered. Vereinbarung was his salvation, maybe it will be the same for this beech?
- Do you really think it could recover?
The round face of the High Druidess broke into a big mischievous smile.
- I don't think so, I know it, Magister. When I examined it, I saw an omen. I analysed the flows of magic, observed the position of the stars and listened to the whispers of the wind, and finally determined the vital thread of this tree. I saw a surprising evolution. If I believe what I've calculated, and I can show you those calculations if you want to check for yourself, the conjunctions predicted a change that should happen in about ten annual cycles.
- In other words, should someone or something be able to take care of this tree within ten years or so, according to your calculations?
- Indeed, Magister. A decade at most.
- Assuming it doesn't completely waste away by then?
- I trust Ghyran's whispers, Magister.
Psody felt his eyes narrowing.
- I have a small idea about who could be behind this change.
- There are doubtless already inhabitants of Vereinbarung who could tame Ghyran if they learned how to do so, replied the High Druidess. They just don't know yet.
- Have you someone in particular in mind? Brisingr inquired.
- A couple of peasants came to introduce me their first child a few months ago. What if it was him?
- You detected predispositions in him?
- It's even written on his face: he's a White Skaven!
The Great Druidess gave a thoughtful pout.
- Hmm… Well, why not? If he comes from a rural background, his education will obviously be bounded to nature. His parents are probably already praising Taal and Rhya, his living environment includes large outdoors, livestock and crops...
Magister Steadyhand looked more sceptical.
- I wouldn't want to destroy your hopes, High Druidess, but remember the living environment is not everything: I've known Mages of the College of Gold who had come from the remote countryside. It is not the practitioner who chooses the Wind of Magic, but the opposite. If so, this little boy will be good at manipulating Shyish. What I wish him, the Elf hastened to add. Amethyst Mages are still useful to society, aren't they?
- My father hasn't planned a College of Amethyst yet, Brisingr. It will be necessary, of course.
- I agree with Master Steadyhand, for a balance of the winds of Magic, each College is as important as the others, including College of Amethyst. Of course, I am happy to see the first College is the one of Jade, but I hope to see one day the town of Steinerburg with eight Colleges, Master Mage.
This last statement ignited a small spark in the Elf's mind.
- Hmm, that reminds me of something… Tell me, Psody, you have the title of "Master Mage", and yet you practice the Magic of Ghyran. It is customary for Jade Mages to call themselves "Druids". Why don't you?
- Because I am not a Druid, officially-by name. Being a druid necessitates having taken theology and natural sciences lessons. Then there are exams to pass, followed by a ritual appointment ceremony. I haven't done any of that.
- Once the first building is built, we should be able to bring in some Druids who will provide the necessary teachings, explained High Druidess Lucretia. Thus, the Mages linked to Ghyran will indeed be Druids, with the same laws and the same organization as in Talabheim.
- And so, that might make you a Druid, Brisingr insisted.
- It doesn't matter, replied the White Skaven.
- Why not? So you don't want to be a Druid?
Psody gave a little nervous smile.
- I don't think that's possible-reasonable, Brisingr. From what I have learned by reading books on the subject, being a Druid involves being immersed in the culture of Taal and Rhya from an early age. Druids are generally born to at least one Druid parent, if not both-both. I have no relationship with these gods, I won't even be able to recite their main commandments! And if I was interested in it more deeply-seriously than to satisfy my curiosity, I doubt the Horned Rat would approve.
- So far, your Horned Rat seems to let things go... Are you sure you should fear a god who seems to have turned away from you?
This remark did not fail to annoy the White Skaven.
- The question is not whether the Horned Rat has abandoned me, but to make sure I do not abandon him! You cannot ask me to give up the belief that has always governed my life!
- Even if he is a god known to be evil and forbidden in the Empire?
- I am the only one to revere the Horned Rat among all the citizens of the Rat Kingdom, and I assume it. Unlike many of your fellow people of Ulthuan who hide to praise Khaine, the god of murder!
It was the Elf's turn to take the hit on his chin. But he only smirked.
- You are right, and I owe you apologies. I have turned my back on my compatriots like you did, but I still revere their gods. I praise Hoeth, and I respect those who worship Khaine. This is a necessary evil, the Elves are aware of it, and they strive to remain worthy. Well… except those from Naggaroth, of course.
- You're talking about the Dark Elves… observed the High Druidess. I've never seen one. Are they really that bad?
Without changing his smile, Brisingr whispered:
- Orcs destroy everything what is not green because they need to express their existence in this way. Feral Skaven are moved by fear and anger. But of all the people made up of mortal, flesh and blood creatures, the Druchii are arguably the worst; decadence is their way of life, and they have raised sadism and cruelty to the heights of the refinery. The executioners and torturers are artists, and their unfortunate victims are their works. And every Dark Elf is raised to be one of these artists. Their favourite preys are High Elves. Seeing the people of Ulthuan reminds them who they were and what they lost. For beneath their bravado and complacency displayed in carnage and blood, the subjects of Witch King Malekith know very well they are nothing more than the consequence of a bad choice. A bad choice they did in agreeing to turn away from the gods of Ulthuan in order to worship Slaanesh. Even those born since the Torn apart continue to pay off the debt of their ancestors. The god Kaela Mensha Khaine is the other divinity they follow with pleasure, all the more willingly since he is a god who retains a place in the pantheon of the gods of Ulthuan whose cult is authorized, like our friend Master Mage just told us. It's a way for them to get closer to their worst enemies, I believe: to keep something of their High Elf life, a spark of their lost greatness.
Steadyhand's smile narrowed into a cynical grin.
- The worst thing is the face of the Dark Elves reminds all the Elves born on Ulthuan, like myself, betrayal sleeps in every one of us… and sometimes, the littlest dark spark is sufficient to wake it up.
- Come on, we're almost there...
- Ouch!
- Just a little more patience, please.
The man grumbled, and let out a small moan as Prior Romulus tightened the gauze band. After a few moments that seemed like an eternity for the patient lying on the mattress, the chaplain cut the fabric, and gently set the leg down.
- It's over, I've got everything in place.
- I will remember that day! Bloody clumsiness!
- Don't blame yourself, Master Swenson. Anyone can fall from a horse. Rather think you were lucky in your misfortune.
- Lucky? With a broken stump?
- I have seen before riders less fortunate than you: they had broken their spine or their neck. You could have ended up paralyzed forever, or dead.
Messenger Leif Swenson swallowed hard.
- During the twelve years I have been in the business, this had never happened to me!
- There is a first time in everything. From now, go home and rest. And don't move for one month. No more traveling on horseback, no more work in the fields for your family, in a word: rest. Rest, rest, take care of yourself.
- The courier will not deliver itself!
- Indeed, but we are fortunate to have a princely courier service that employs more than one single person, in case there is a problem.
- What about that?
Swenson pointed an angry finger at the satchel on the table.
- This is my daily delivery. Who will take care of it? You?
Prior Romulus smirked.
- Well yes, eh! Why not?
The messenger was so surprised by this response that all traces of irony flew from his face.
- You can't be serious, can you?
- Sure I can! What, don't tell me you're going to talk me out of doing it now?
- Well… it's… it's not your job, Prior!
- Helping is my job, Master Swenson.
Romulus opened the satchel and counted about ten envelopes, scrolls, and missives, all sealed. The priest spotted wax seals with various coats of arms – owl, wolf, sun, lion, horse, bee, boat, and many more. He frowned for a moment as he considered the route he would have to take to deliver it all. Swenson realized this, and asked:
- Are you sure you want to do this? Shouldn't, if you have other things to do!
- It will allow me to remind the flock of Steinerburg to continue their donations to our temple. Shallya always thanks those who come to her aid.
Deep down, Romulus was not attracted by money, but he knew full well the golden crowns were needed to keep the temple alive, to feed the devoted servants of the Goddess of Compassion, and to purchase the materials for to treat patients and fill the stomachs of the people in distress. He had just recognized some names of the greatest fortunes of the country written on the envelopes. He had no qualms about asking, always politely, for financial support from members of this category of Vereinbarung society at every opportunity. They could financially support Shallya's order much more than the poor, which they often did with less zeal, paradoxically. That was Human nature: the more you accumulate money, the less willing you are to pass it on to others.
- Besides, I'm going now, I have to talk to the Prince.
- How's his Highness?
- All is well, but Prince Steiner has to take care of several sites. Hey, it's been six years since we got here, and it's time to think about long term!
- Lots of construction sites, that's a lot of risk of accidents... I hope you can treat everyone?
- I trust our Priestesses.
- Your Priestesses won't always be there.
- The succession is assured, Master Swenson, trust me. A little optimism will make your day better. Talking about this…
Romulus opened a closet, took out a pair of crutches, and gave them to the messenger. The latter grabbed the wooden canes, then stood up painfully. He took a few steps across the dormitory.
- You'll bring them back to me when you no longer need them.
- Taal, thank you, Prior. And for the mail, if I can do something in return...
- Of course you can. As I said earlier, Shallya always thanks those who come to her aid.
Swenson nodded and left the room. Romulus closed the satchel, slipped its thong over his shoulder, and walked towards the exit of the temple in turn.
- Good morning, Prior.
He spun around, and found himself facing Heike.
- Good morning, my child. How are you today?
- Everything is fine. Sister Judy suggested a new variety of tea that should ease my mood.
- I don't remember hearing your husband complain about your temper?
- Because you don't know our life as a couple up to in the bedroom, Prior, replied the ratwoman with a knowing smile.
The Human saw out of the corner of his eye little Isolde, kneeling on a praying chair. Ever since she had learned she was going to be a big sister, she came to the temple at least every other morning to thank the Goddess of Compassion, and beg her to keep her mother and the unborn child healthy.
- Do you think she is zealous, Prior?
- Isolde is a child, she is firmly and sincerely clinging to her convictions. Even though I personally think a visit to the altar once per week would be sufficient, I won't discourage this tender little heart.
- She's sticking to it, Prior. She is really sure she wants to become a priestess of your order.
- So far, you seemed to support her. Have you changed your mind?
- Not at all, I would much rather see her become a dove than a soldier.
- If she chooses to wear the bure, she will have to give up all her comforts. No more princess life at Steiner Estate, no more beautiful clothes, no more candies, nor toys… Is she aware of that?
- I started to explain it to her. It didn't cool her down though. She even trained to wear common clothes or not eating refined food a couple of times.
- Well, this is conviction! Next year, she should be old enough to experience the messier side of Shallya's priestess work, at the dispensary. This will undoubtedly be the last test: either she will end up feeling she's not capable, or her conviction will be all the more strengthened, and she can become an initiate.
Heike nodded without answering.
- Heike, I will never voluntarily influence Isolde's future, except to have her follow the path in which she will thrive most.
- Oh, don't worry, Prior. Me too, I only want her happiness. If she chooses to give up her life as a Lady to make good around her like you do, let her do it, I will always support her.
Finally, the Prior allowed himself to smile frankly.
- Well, I have to leave you, I promised the courier to deliver the remaining mail.
- You didn't have to do that, Prior. Your duties with my father exempt you from engaging in these activities.
- I happen to like these activities, my child. It is good from time to time to remember our primary function, us servants of Shallya.
- Speaking of that, I shall whisper our Goddess a little prayer, too.
With these words, Heike took a seat alongside Isolde, and Romulus left the temple.