Ashton sighed, Ru was right, one day he had to learn to stop giving to those who only took. Learn to harden his heart so he could focus on the ones who knew to reciprocate. If Ashton kept protecting everyone... they'd never learn their lessons.
Ash gave a wry smile, Sebastian's family had made him think of the past... they weren't all bad memories. Some of course had been painful, but worth the sacrifice no matter how times changed. There were also meetings and promises long overdue...
Ashton thought of gold and white feathers, a proud ember, an annoying brat, and other fond memories he'd buried deep in the recess of his soul. He glanced up at the sky, even with his enchanted mask... he couldn't see the sun... but that didn't mean the sun couldn't see him.
Ashton shook off the thoughts as he examined the marketplace and saw where stalls were already reserved. There would be much change in the next few days, there were people worthy of his protection he had to prepare for.
Upon Ashton's return the servants were busily cleaning up foul with pale faces. The smell of burnt meat was lingering. Ashton glanced over the area with a sardonic smile. His good mood gone like the warmth of the sun hidden by a dark cloud. Really, the impatient the little rats would have to learn to listen.
Back at the palace Lucian was preparing for the delegations, there was surprisingly not one extra delegation, but three additional and one would be delayed. The elves had sent an official notice that they would be arriving promptly on the first day, as well as a representative of the dryads. Lucian hadn't even known they were real.
The court had agreed to place the two Fae delegations at the head of the procession, beside the imperial throne instead of beneath it like the rest of the delegations.
The third delegation was from wandering tribes no country had ever managed to subdue. Ten years ago, the empire had failed two campaigns against the Equestrian tribe of the Inago. The Inago were expert archers on horseback, their royalty also had enormous lions they would ride into battle. They had given no reason for their participation, but they were not to be taken lightly.
Aaron rubbed his face, "The dryads can be explained since they are also coming from the Cerulean Forest... but the Inago have never associated with the empire or Fae... that we know of. We should treat them as equals instead of vassals your Majesty."
Jaxon looked over the little information they had on the three new delegations, "The Inago are matriarchal, do we know anything about their leader?" The delay of the Isle delegation wasn't enough of a concern to warrant discussion. Something about an attack on their holy maiden.
Aaron sighed, "Only that during our campaign ten years ago that she used a spell that killed 4,000 soldiers. There were no survivors or evidence after the battle, so we don't even know what kind of spell she used... or if she was the one who used it." Aaron remembered the reports only because there had been talks of sending Lucian when he was the crown prince.
Aaron recalled that just a few years prior in the late summer of 604 another tribe had burned a newly established village of the empire close to the Savannah borders. Not only had the men and children been burnt alive, not a single female body was found. Supposedly they had been abducted after a marriage had fallen through between the daughter of a Smyrnaean faithful, and a Dolquist warrior.
The pope himself had stepped forward to insist Lucian continue to chase down the Dolquist tribe. When there hadn't been a single survivor found... Lucian had ordered the tribe suffer the same fate. The tribes burned to the ground, while any tribes who had assisted the Dolquist's escape were to be executed or forced into labor.
When the Dolquist were found, they had fought to the last man, killing their own children rather than be taken captive or say what had happened to the faithful. The half dozen priests who had accompanied Lucian during the campaign had been distraught. Not only were there no bodies to return to the earth, but not even the souls could be put to rest.
Lucian's brutal campaign had earned him the support of a few minor houses and led to his engagement to Charmaine. While a few of the smaller tribes had stayed neutral, most had withdrawn deeper into the Savannah as the Smyrnaean army continued to expand their influence, and border. Then in march of the year 610, their expansion into the savannah came to a bloody halt when Regina Neolani had set up camp on the border. Since then, not a single Smyrnaean had been able to pass through the boarder... not alive anyway.
Randal glanced around, "Is there a chance they are also here for Lord Reece? That's the only change that makes sense." Randal pointed out, the idea of peace after over a decade of skirmishes was laughable. Everyone shared looks... but no one knew anything yet.
"They didn't say how many they were bringing to the delegation, just a single letter with the Matriarchs seal saying they would arrive within the first few days. I'm not sure if this is a challenge... or they didn't know how to send official notice." Leonard remarked somewhat dissatisfied. Even looking into the old records... nothing indicated the church was not the victim in the Dolquist attack. Then expansion had simply continued with more aggressive means since the marriages with the tribes had no longer been an option.
"The tribe only has a few thousand people... but they aren't to be underestimated. They also fought back the Seibel forces repeatedly. Even without Alphonse, Seibel is no push over. We should see what they want before making another enemy. We should also focus on finishing the ward. Lord Reece confirmed the journal was on the way, let's add the Inago tribe beside the Fae and adjust accordingly after they arrive." Jaxon added with a sigh. As much as he didn't care for the tribes... better to just make peace. There hadn't been any skirmishes in three years already.
"Perhaps... the Inago have the journal?" Randal asked halfheartedly.
Everyone jolted but before anyone could get too excited Aaron shot their enthusiasm down, "Even if they have the journal, we can't make them into enemies. It's all speculation. If we wanted to move without evidence, we wouldn't be looking for the journal. So, Mage Devlin, finish the ward as soon as possible so we don't have to waste questions asking if it's in the capital."
Devlin sighed, "I need an anchor, besides... why would the murder have kept the journal all these years? Shouldn't they have burned it if they knew?" Just the theory of forming a resonance between two dead items was... new. They weren't stupid, but they were groping around in the dark while trying to build a bridge without tools.
"Honestly, keeping such a journal around only seems to have drawbacks. If the journal has all this proof... who would benefit from keeping it?" Leonard asked leaning back and letting his eyes rest. Surely any information would have been removed, then the evidence destroyed... this was starting to sound like an elaborate farce.
Jaxon glanced around, "Maybe it's a way to keep the murderers from turning on each other." Since there was clearly more than one murder... the idea of the most powerful nation reeking vengeance for their emperor's tarnish name would give any man nightmares. There had to be checks and balances to keep them from exposing each other.
"It only matters that We obtain and confirm the authenticity of the journal." Lucian announced as he ordered for stronger tea to be brought in. There was a knock on the door and a trembling attendant followed the tea in.
"Your majesty, three Bishops are requesting an audience." The attendant informed holding up the silver tray with the letter.
Lucian glared at the letter, he'd all but banished the church when he came into power. Bunch of leeching demanding obedience and nonsense oracles. Before he could rip the letter to pieces Jaxon darted forward to snatch the letter.
"Your Majesty, there must be a good reason for them to reach out. Especially after almost two years of silence." Jaxon explained holding the letter to his chest. While there had been easing of church tensions over the last year, mainly the empress and the dukes, with the exception of Sebastian, had been aiming for reconciliation.
Lucian growled, "Give it here." The temporary satisfaction would not be worth the incessant naggings. Not to mention... it could be related to the land dragon summoning or scripts related to summoning in general.
Jaxon hesitated but gave the letter over, Lucian ripped it open then read it quickly with a snort, "Your Majesty?"
"They want the Cardinals and Pope to attend the tribute this year to give blessings." Lucian sneered tossing the letter aside. They grew too bold, surely they realized how precarious their situation was after being accused of working with rebels and foreign powers. Lucian narrowed his eyes, perhaps this was the church's way of refuting the claims by working with the imperial family...
Jaxon read the letter over, "It would greatly ease the minds of the people if we let the church start giving blessings at our ceremonies again. Many were concerned no one from the church attended the Proclamation of Crown Prince Serafin." There was no greater motivator than fear, but eventually the people's fear of the emperor would not outweigh their fear for their souls.
If the church was reaching out now, there was a good chance a negotiation could be reached. As much as Jaxon hated the church personally, he could see how influential they were among the common people. Public opinion would help force their hand into cooperation. Cooperation would eventually lead to the truth about the summoning circle, and hopefully the other ancient enchantments used.
Lucian drummed his fingers on the table... Lucian could barely remember a time his mother hadn't been weeping, begging for mercy after he'd been given to the church for the imperial initiation. Seeing if he would be the next dragonkin to ascend. Like all the rest, he'd only been six when he'd been escorted to the cathedral.
Once a month a relative would be allowed to visit. As a bastard son of the emperor, only his mother dared visit. Unfortunately, when she did, he was often too injured to even speak let alone move. The first year the injuries had been relatively light; burns, welts, bruises. But each year the beatings became worse, by his third year the priests would whip the flesh from his back once a week then throw him into a stone room.
By his fourth year he couldn't tell if his mother was visiting, or the interactions of her weeping over his burned, battered body were delusions. Worse than the beatings and darkness... was the healing. The immediate healing was akin to being burned from the inside out, as the healing progressed he felt like he was drowning in a sea of despair and agony. He swore on his soul... he thought he could hear the cries of all his kin before him who had endured the same. But no one paid his ramblings any heed.
The day Lucian turned 11 and was finally to be returned as a failure who couldn't ascend... he was escorted to the ceremonial cathedral in the palace. His mother, a former noble who had been forced to serve the emperor, was bound to a pier. For the completion of his initiation he was awarded an imperial name, for his failure to ascend, his mother was sacrificed to the ceremonial fire.
Lucian didn't bother to hide his disgust, there was no love lost for the church that burned his mother alive. Even after purging their ranks by almost a quarter, his blood still boiled at the memory.
Leonard saw the simmering rage underneath Lucian's façade, "Every delegation will also be bringing a religious figure, it has always sat unwell with the visiting delegations."
"The current Pope is also fluent in Elvish, or so say the rumors." Devlin pointed out, to give blessings to everyone who joined the Lindorm Church were required to be fluent in at least three languages. Officially for the last seventy years all the most powerful nations had started using common, but blessings and official ceremonies were held using the official language.
Lucian took a deep breath, "Only five of them may be present at a time." His vengeance had been wrought, but that didn't mean he would break bread with the bastards.
Jaxon nodded and started writing a response. This was already an incredible compromise on his majesty's part. Jaxon had no love for the Lindorm faith either, his experience of the initiation had started two years prior to his majesty's. For a few years, their cells had been adjacent, they would whisper in the dark, swearing vengeance.
As hellish as the experience had been... Jaxon was, in a tiny piece of his heart, grateful to have shared those years with Lucian. Otherwise, he may not just see Lucian as his brother forged from the same hell fire, but as just a vassal to his emperor. Though the immediate years after Lucian's initiation they had not been as close, after Lucian had been able to focus his hatred and rage they had grown as close as siblings.
It was probably after Jaxon had staunchly fought to find the true culprits behind Alphonse's death that their relationship truly rekindled... Jaxon shook himself of the thoughts. The church could not be toppled so quickly... but if they slowly kept striping them of power and refusing to subject their future generation to such cruelties... there was hope in the future to completely change the church.
Pope Bodin Hawco Lindorm had not really expected a response, but he smiled as he accepted the letter from the Bishop. He had been praying to the ancestor dragon in the imperial cathedral. Five years ago... this magnificent hall was never empty, now only the most faithful dared enter. Even then, usually only in the dead of night.
Bodin stood as he opened the letter. Candles lit the front of the hall, one for each fallen pope who now guarded the empire even after death. One day, Bodin hoped to truly allow them the rest they deserved but today... today they must continue to endure.
Bishop Gregory Paiz examined the much younger Pope, he was only twenty-two this year, silver hair that reached his waist, and eyes so pale blue many first thought he was blind. After the purge Bodin had the strongest holy power, and since he'd been training since he was seven, he was immediately promoted. His trademark benevolent smile really did make him seem like a deity watching over a floc.
Bodin read the reply with a smile, "His Majesty is graciously allowing myself, and four of my choice to participate in the tribute banquet to give blessings and spread the word of Lindorm. I will send word to Cardinal Wilbert and Cardinal Promise, they may pick two promising disciples."
Bishop Gregory bowed as he prepared paper with the holy seal. They would have to arrive prior to the delegations to set up the holy rites and blessings, there was much to do.
Bodin examined the letter again, something had crossed into the capital shortly before the new year that had caused the Holy scepter and Dragon's heart to beat. It was a great pity the feather quills were no longer in circulation. Still, there were other ways to spread the influence of the church. Now there were so many ripples throughout the Empire; a land dragon, Duke Carlos's retreat, rebel factions, Holy Artifacts awakening. Perhaps this guest could... enlighten the church.
Bodin waited until he was once again alone, then he walked to the centermost candle, drew a dagger and let a single drop of blood from his thumb drop onto the flame. A moment later he was standing before a holy crest made of dragon bone.
"We who live carry the torch, those who died are the torch. Eventually the torch must be replenished. Today I carry this great burden, may the souls who fight understand." Bodin knelt bowing his head until it touched the floor three times. Then he stood up placing his hand on the head of the coiled dragon.
The doors opened, inside was a secret sacred chamber only the Pope could enter as he gathered up the dragon's heart and scepter. If this hero was as he suspected... they may truly be able to let the souls of their priests and protectors' rest. Hope was not yet lost. Beast Gods above, the empire would not fall so long as he lived.