The priest led them deeper into the cathedral.
The further Alaric and Gyan walked, the quieter the building became. The main hall gave way to side corridors. The side corridors gave way to administrative wings. Soon the sounds of worshippers vanished entirely and only the distant tolling of bells remained.
Alaric walked with measured steps, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression neutral. Gyan followed a half-step behind, her shadows pooling at her feet like loyal hounds.
Ahead of them, the priest walked with measured steps.
"The Cardinal is expecting you."
Alaric raised an eyebrow.
"Personally?"
"His Eminence was informed that the Lord of Blackwood had paid a visit and so decided to meet with you."
Gyan remained silent beside him.
The priest eventually stopped before a pair of enormous wooden doors carved with symbols scriptures of their gospel.
He bowed then pushed them open. Alaric paused for moment stepped inside.
The office was large.
Far larger than necessary.
Tall windows allowed sunlight to pour into the room. Shelves lined the walls. Documents, books, and records occupied nearly every available surface, arranged in meticulous order that somehow still managed to look chaotic.
At the far end of the room behind a desk sat boad-shouldered man in crimson embroidered with gold thread that caught the light. His hair was silver despite appearing no older than fifty. He possesed sharp eyes, sharp eyes that immediately settled upon Alaric.
Eyes that evaluated.
Measured.
Judged.
The man smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
"Lord Dukker."
Alaric inclined his head.
"Your Eminence."
The man gestured toward two chairs.
"Please."
Neither Alaric nor Gyan sat immediately. The Cardinal's smile widened slightly. Eventually Alaric took a seat and Gyan remained standing behind him. The Cardinal leaned back.
"Cardinal Ljudevit Mlinar."
Alaric already knew who he was.
Everyone did.
As West Cardinal, Ljudevit Mlinar oversaw all Orthodox operations within Aerthos.
One of the four most powerful men in the Church.
The structure itself was relatively straightforward.
At the very top stood the Pontifex, a curious figure. Unlike virtually every major religious authority throughout history of the world, the Pontifex of the Sacred Orthodox Church possessed no Trait. No connection to Flow and seemingly no supernatural influence. By all standards a mundane man. The official doctrine claimed this allowed him to remain impartial.
Neutral.
Untouched by the subtle influences that accompanied the twenty Patron Deities.Because of this neutrality, the Pontifex served as a vessel for all twenty divine traditions simultaneously. It wassaid that this stand granted him the ability to perform miracles in their names even though he himself possesed no supernatural powers. One of these miracles was the fact that he had been pontifex for over a century though this could be mere speculation or just a fantasy for the sake of the people.
While the Pontifex acted as spiritual head, he traveled the world performing pilgrimages, mediations, and evangelical duties, he spent most of his time wandering the continents rather than governing from a seat of power. The practical administration of the Church fell to the Four Cardinals, each responsible for a cardinal direction and a class of deities.
The North Cardinal governed Nordhelm and the Cosmic Class, overseeing the deities of environment and forces.
The West Cardinal served Aerthos and the Existential Class, the deities of body and reality.
The South Cardinal held authority over Veridian and the Cognitive Class, the deities of mind and perception. Though the free cities of Veridian, true to name, weren't really that religious.
And the East Cardinal ruled from the island nation of Xylos, governing the Soulfire Class, the deities of spirit and soul. Each Cardinal governed their territory's religious affairs, interpreting the will of their patron deities and enforcing doctrine. They were powerful, influential, and often ambitious, their authority stretching across borders and kingdoms accross Aeridor withe the exception of Kemet which followed a different beleif system.
Ljudevit folded his hands.
"What brings the Lord of Blackwood to my cathedral?"
Alaric smiled politely.
"A simple inquiry."
"There is no such thing."
The Cardinal's answer came instantly. Amusement flickered across his face.
"Not from nobles."
"Then perhaps a complicated inquiry."
"Better."
Alaric chuckled and continued.
"I am here to see Igor Patrovski."
The man leaned forward. His gaze sharpened.
"The chaplain?"
"Yes."
The Cardinal's fingers tapped the desk.
"Interesting."
Alaric waited.
"So tell me, Lord Dukker."
The Cardinal smiled.
"Why exactly does the Privy Council suddenly find interest in one crippled priest?"
Alaric did not respond to the probe instantly. He simply waited, letting the silence stretch for a few moments before answering. He folded his arms.
"I have no intention of involving the Church in political matters."
The Cardinal laughed.
"Everyone says that before involving the Church in political matters."
Gyan remained motionless.
Ljudevit's gaze shifted briefly toward her.
Then back.
"The Church guides the people."
His voice carried conviction.
"The people trust us."
"Naturally."
"And yet our government continues pretending that divine wisdom should remain separate from governance."
Alaric already knew where this was going. Ljudevit Mlinar belonged to a growing faction within the Church.
One that believed the nation should be guided more directly by religious authority. They believed that only through divine leadership could Aerthos be saved from itself, that the mortal rulers had grown corrupt and that only guidance rooted in the divine could restore order.
The argument sounded noble enough. The implications were considerably less so.
"Salvation requires guidance."
The Cardinal's eyes gleamed.
"People require shepherds."
Alaric smiled politely.
"And politicians are the chosen sheperds that guide the people."
For a moment silence filled the room.
Then the Cardinal laughed. It was a genuine laugh this time.
"You are refreshingly direct."
"I try."
The Cardinal leaned back again. After several moments he waved a hand dismissively.
"Very well."
His expression became neutral.
"You may speak with Chaplain Patrovski."
Alaric nodded.
"I appreciate the accommodation."
"Do not."
The Cardinal's smile returned.
"I am simply curious."
The West Cardinal rang a small bell.
The door opened immediately and young woman entered.
Dark blue robes.
Silver hair.
Calm eyes.
"Sister Sophia will escort you."
The Cardinal's gaze lingered on Alaric.
"Do enjoy your visit."
Something about the way he said it made Alaric certain he was being watched, not that it mattered. After all he had expected as much.
The lower levels of the cathedral felt entirely different from the upper ones.
Darker.
Quieter.
Older.
Stone walls replaced polished marble and the scent of incense faded.
Sister Sophia walked ahead carrying a lantern.
"Chaplain Patrovski resides here."
Gyan's eyes narrowed slightly.
The area resembled a monastery more than a cathedral.
Small rooms.
Simple furnishings.
Long corridors.
Eventually they stopped infront of a heavy ebonydoor and Sister Sophia knocked.
A strained voice answered.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Gyan wrinkled her nose immediately, only for a split second before her expression returned to normal.
The man sitting inside the room looked awful.
Dark blue Orthodox robes covered his entire body. The garments were oversized and loose. Even so, the hunchback beneath them remained visible. His face looked swollen, uneven almost stretched. His eyes were sharp, though, gleaming with an intelligence that his appearance could not hide. Yellow jagged teeth became visible in his crooked mouth as he smiled.
"Visitors."
His gaze landed on Gyan.
The smile widened.
"My, my."
He chuckled.
"What a beautiful woman.The Lord of Blackwood keeps excellent company.""
The compliment immediately made Gyan uncomfortable. Her jaw tightened—just slightly, just for a moment—BUT She hid it perfectly.
Almost.
Only Alaric noticed the quick recovery. She inclined her head professionally.
"Thank you, Chaplain."
Igor laughed.
The sound carried an unpleasant wetness.
"Thank you, Chaplain." Her voice was calm, professional, utterly controlled. Sister Sophia moved closer to him clearly accustomed to this behavior. Alaric took a seat.Igor remained in his chair and his grin remained.
"Please. Sit. Both of you."
Alaric took a seat. Gyan stood behind him with her hands folded infront of her while sister Sophia retreated to the back of the room.
"So, what brings you here my Lord?"
Alaric smiled politely.
"I came to ask about your research."
The grin faltered slightly. Then returned.
"My research?"
"On Living artifacts."
Igor leaned back. A thoughtful expression crossed his swollen features.
"That is ancient history."
"Ancient history is still history worth discussing."
The priest sighed.
"It was an obsession of youth." he said after a moment.
His voice became distant.
"I chased possibilities that should have remained theoretical."
"Regrets?"
"Many."
The answer came immediately. He shifted and a pained expression crossed his face.
"Most of them physical in nature."
Alaric nodded.
"I heard the research contributed to your injuries."
Igor laughed weakly.
"It contributed to all of them." He paused, took a cup of water from a neary table and began to drink slowly.
Alaric watched everything.
The movements.
The pauses.
The timing.
"Then you abandoned your lifes work?" he continued after the man had had his drink.
"Of course."
A brief pause, almost imperceptible. Igor shrugged or at least thats what it looked like he was trying to do.
"The original research? Certainly."
He gestured vaguely at his body.
"Some lessons are learned the hard way."
Alaric leaned forward slightly.
"Living artifacts. The integration of soul fragments into constructed forms. The possibility of—"
"I know what it is, Lord Dukker." Igor's voice was sharp, cutting through the air. "I wrote the theory. I lived the consequences."
He paused, his expression softening into something resembling wisdom.
"All the knowledge concerning the matter have been burned. Under the order of the Pontifex, supervised by Cardinal Ljudevit . All of it. The theories, the notes, the experiments. Gone."
'Interesting.' Alaric decided to press.
"Still, rumors persist."
"Rumors are like weeds. They grow in the cracks."
"Sometimes, they grow from seeds."
Igor's eyes sharpened.
"What are you implying?"
Alaric's expression did not change.
"Recently, Captain Emma Gable—led a division of Enforcers on a covert mission in Veridian. They encountered something... unusual."
Igor's eyes flickered.
Only once.
"Unusual?"
"Automatons. Patchwork constructs. Beings that moved with purpose but lacked life. They resembled the theories you once pursued."
"Automatons you say?" Igor asked. Alaric nodded.
"Based on his description they were organic components integrated into artificial frameworks."
The room became quiet. Sister Sophia looked confused.
Igor did not.
"Interesting. Why tell me this?"
"Professional curiosity."
The priest stared.
Then laughed.
A harsh ugly sound.
"Am I being accused of something, Lord Dukker?"
Alaric remained perfectly calm.
"You may assume as much."
Sophia froze.
Igor blinked then burst into laughter.mA violent coughing fit immediately followed. Sister Sophia hurried forward.
"Chaplain."
She opened a nearby cabinet, retrieved medicine and handed it over. Igor swallowed it with visible difficulty.
Several moments passed. Eventually he recovered.
"Forgive me."
His smile returned.
"That was amusing."
Alaric waited. Igor spread his hands.
"How exactly would I create these things? I mean look at me, how on earth would I pull it off.. And as I mentioned earlier, the Pontifex ordered the research be destroyed. Records confirm this. "
Alaric studied him.Finally he nodded.
"I'll take your word for it."
Igor smiled.
"Thank you."
Alaric leaned back.
"Truthfully, when I learned about what that strike team encountered I became curious and since you researched something similar i wanted your thoughts on the matter."
Igor seemed to relax slightly.
"A reasonable question."
The priest chuckled.
"As humans, we are rarely unique."
Alaric said nothing.
Igor tapped his temple.
"If one thought of something, others inevitably thought of it too or at least variations of it." He looked directly at Alaric.
"Its called Parallel innovation. So yes it is possible that someone else developed a similar theory. The only individual who truly knew the details of my work was Sigmund Kilgowe."
A shadow crossed his face.
"Tragically, he's dead."
The room became silent again. Alaric and Gyan exchanged a brief glance then Alaric stood.
"I appreciate your time."
Igor smiled.
"I hope I was helpful."
"Very."
Igor chuckled again.
"Anytime, Lord Dukker. I am always happy to discuss the follies of youth."
The lie came easily.
Sister Sophia escorted them toward the door. Moments later they stepped into the corridor. The door closed behind them.
Inside the room Igor's smile vanished instantly.
The friendly demeanor disappeared.
The warmth disappeared.
Everything disappeared.
His face twisted and a sneer formed.
"Nosy bastard."
Meanwhile several corridors away, sister Sophia guided them onward. Gyan suddenly stopped.
"We can find our own way, thank you sister."
The woman hesitated but bowed after a moment and departed. Alaric and Gyan continued walking. as they did, Gyan adjusted herself, angling her body so that their shadows aligned.
A familiar sensation spread as the link was established.
"Lord Alaric."
Gyan's voice echoed in his mind.
"I know Gyan."
A pause.
"Igor Patrovski is lying."