Sebastian’s assistant was dragging a cart loaded with a barrel of warm blood as I could smell its metallic tinge. I assumed it was required for their unique brand of magic, but it was still a little sinister. Thankfully nobody else seemed to notice.
To top of it off, the three of us were still in our formal robes, just to make sure we stood out like sore thumbs. It was now the middle of the day, after all.
“If I may ask, what do you need a casket of blood for…?” I was searching for a name as she perked up.
“You can call me Ashe! And we need it for our magic. I mean sure, we can use our own blood, but for the scope of our backup plan, a barrel of the stuff would make sure we don’t faint mid-cast.” Her voice was bouncy and…not a girl’s. Not a guy’s either. She had this weird squeaky voice that spoke more about her age then anything else. I wanted to ask, but felt it would be rude.
I nodded, shelving the information. I knew each mage had their own aspects and their own price for using their magic, but I couldn’t glean what their magical effect would be.
“What does your magic do then? Blood isn’t exactly the most straightforward price,” I asked and Sebastian nodded.
“Our magic allows us to manipulate properties of objects, spells, and living creatures,” he said. “Despite the extremely appealing tagline, I assure you we are both more limited in the actual usage of our magic than mages like yourself.” Manipulating properties could be anything, which didn’t actually help me at all. It was the mage version of hand waving.
There wasn’t much banter as three of us mentally prepared. Then we came into view of the massive church. The structure was built with dragons in mind and made of an otherworldly cyan material.
Sadly, such exotic building material was beyond the scope of our abilities to replicate. They say Cestra built the church in her image, much like the royal castle.
While the royal castle has received expansions from the original, though without the crystalline material, the church has remained the same all these years. Tall enough to house a dragon, and wide enough for a dragon to spread the full width of their wings. It even sported massive wooden doors for dragons to enter.
The inside of the church was even more lavish. Gold was sprinkled about the walls and pillars, as well as beautiful white and black accents. The ceiling itself was a massive mural depicting the full story of the Trinity and how they managed to create the seemingly perfect kingdom.
Priceless relics of gold, silver, and other precious metals were scattered about. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see church guards watching our approach, at least half a dozen of them. There was worry in their eyes, but until we did something we shouldn’t, they wouldn’t dare stop Pact Mages. A lone priest wandered about the elegant carved benches and the relics, polishing them to a shine. We approached him.
“I’m going to cut this short,” I began as he tensed up. “Get me the person or people that can show me the way to Cestra’s Archives.” The blood in his face drained away as he ran off with a “Yes, my lady!”
The three of us exchanged glances.
“Shame this place is about to be smashed in a little bit…” Ashe whispered to herself as she continued to drag her cart of blood. “I kind of like the painting up top. Maybe I’ll grab a piece of it when you’re done? Or maybe one of these gilded cups…” She grinned as Sebastian shook his head.
“Stop trying to take everything that isn’t nailed down. Have some self-respect. You’re a mage, not some pickpocket,” he scolded her as she crossed her arms, letting the cart handle drop.
“Hey. I’ll let you know I was a mildly respectable courier of the underground variety. Thievery was best a secondary occupation.” This time it was my turn to give her a doubtful look. Seems like we let a busy finger into a place literally covered in gold. Great.
We didn’t have to wait long before a small gathering of old men flanked by several inquisitors approached our group. I could tell which one of them was the head of the church. It was always the person with the fanciest hat.
“Look, I don’t know how you heard of this vault, but it’s not in here,” he said, scoffing that he had to deal with us. I imagined I disrupted some perfectly good relaxing time. He especially locked eyes with Sebastian, not registering me as a threat.
“Her claims are legitimate. On behalf of the Acadamae, we request peaceful access in order to verify her claims.” It seemed like the two of them had met before as I relaxed a little. They stared at each other like mortal enemies, with our arch mage having the slight height advantage, and thus the superior glare.
“We’ve been ordered by King Lazarus to prevent any entrance. That overrules your authority, Arch Mage Sebastian.” He practically spat the title, as I gestured for Ashe to back off. I was about to do something reckless. She got the cue immediately, as she started dragging the cart away. Far, far away.
“No, but you will respect mine.” It was a blink, maybe a second before I was looking down at them, tiny ants each no bigger than my paw. I let out a low rumbling growl as they began to back away. The inquisitors raised their little toothpicks in response to my growl. Pathetic.
::Grant me access or forfeit your life.::
“You—Dragon. It would be unwise to invite the wrath of…” the Archbishop began to say before I breathed a cone of freezing mist directly on top of him. Three of his associates joined him in being frozen corpses. Vengeance was sweet.
::My brother will not protect you from my justified wrath.::
There was silence as the other preachers looked at each other. They were starting to doubt the usefulness of their weapons. Sebastian wore the smuggest grin he could manage.
I gave a small sneeze as one of the guards suddenly froze into an icicle, halberd still drawn.
::Put down your weapons.::
They threw them to the ground and ran. No amount of elite training and preparation could hope to face a dragon. The priests did not run, even as the guards fled.
“W-We cannot, for…” There was no further explanation needed as I breathed a cone of frost on top of them all, covering the front foyer of the great church in ice. I was getting annoyed that they were so unwilling to budge on their principles. What was I going to have to do, hunt each of them down?
“I have to say, the sensation of having a dragon by your side is practically megalomaniacal. I do have to wonder what they did to deserve such treatment, though.” Sebastian glanced at the frozen foyer. “I hated High Bishop Anthony enough to see him turned into badly refrigerated meat, but I’m not so sure about the others.”
::They made my journey here hell, killed my uncle, and tried their best to stop me from making it to Mithil, as well as trying to kill me when I was younger.::
Sebastian raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, well completely justified then. Carry on.”
Just then another human came into view, one with those distinctive robes from Arlond. He was carrying a lantern as he approached, tired bags under his eyes quickly replaced with excitement, at least until he noted the frozen ice statues littering the front foyer.
“Aria! Is that you?” Bishop Buryan gasped as I turned back, flowing into my own robes as I rushed forward to give him a hug.
“Buryan!” I shouted in excitement as everyone else breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here?”
Chapter 16: Cestra’s Legacy.
Authorial intent is a curious thing. On the one hand I do think what I have to convey through my writing is important, and on the other hand some portions of it are quite out of my control. I cannot dictate how one might read, nor think about the work, nor do I have any desire to dictate a proper way to enjoy a piece of literature. However, in the passages below, you will find yet another part where I have little control over the subject matter. We will have to pay a visit to the Archives of Cestra. I have purposely omitted details and had Aria provide her own accounts of what occurred inside. Believe me, the disappointment is mutual. I would’ve dearly loved to include in our literature the secrets of our world, not to mention be the first to report what was inside. However, some secrets belong to dragons, and dragons alone.
Myrtle “Mari” Innings.
