The Wicked House of Caroline

The folio of medical reports compiled by the healers from Sagittate on Luther wasn’t thick. Just a few sheets of paper, including five sheets which were outlines of a human body, and one of the head, littered with markings to show where actual injuries from his fall and Beks’ ‘saving him’ had occurred.

The full body front diagram had several areas circled ranging from slight fractures to bruises. Beks had assumed that slamming him face first into a stone wall would have done some damage, but she didn’t expect so many bruises.

Luther had also landed on the ground, but at the very least, the ground around the base of the tower had originally been tended to as a flower bed, so it was as ‘soft’ a surface had Luther could be lucky to land on.

He didn’t have any fatal injuries and his health had deteriorated to where it was now because of his refusal to eat and unwillingness to get treatment unless he was forced.

“I don’t recall him being seriously injured as a child,” Lucian said as he read over the medical reports with critical eyes. “He never had any serious illness either.”

Laz shifted through the several diagrams, as if memorizing where of Luther’s injuries were. “If he did have a serious illness, it wouldn’t be something we’d know, would it?”

“Perhaps not you three or even Brother Laurence, but I would’ve known,” Beks replied as she smeared some butter on a piece of bread before piling on some scrambled eggs.

Laz raised his eyes over the papers to look at her seated across from him. “He told you?”

“Shouldn’t the keeper of the favorite son know of his weaknesses so that she can make up for them?” Her blase answer earned the attention of her mother and father seated further down the large dining table with her youngest siblings.

Robert narrowed his eyes at his daughter’s response. “The more I hear about her concern for the Third Consort and their son, the more I suspect that she was preparing you not to support His Majesty as ruler, but to one day have a resource for her youngest son if the opportunity fell upon him.”

“Daddy, I don’t think that’s too far off,” Beks replied with a slight bitter smile on her lips.

“That being said, were there any illnesses he had as a child? Prolonged or short?” Sybil asked.

Beks took a deep breath and shook her head. “A few colds when he disobeyed and insisted on playing, catching a chill and the like. However, nothing that would’ve been so devastating as making him bedridden for several days, if not weeks. He sprained his wrist once, and that was kept hidden from the late Queen.”

Lucian looked over at her. “Why did he hide it from the late Queen?”

“It was his dominant arm’s wrist. Because of it, his father didn’t let him write for days,” Beks replied. “And it was during a time when Luther was required to study and write reflection essays on several important government policies in an effort to force him to understand them.”

“And he told you about his wrist? No.” Laz shook his head once. “Hessing allowed him to tell you?”

The corner of Beks’ lip curled up in a slight sneer. “Someone needed to write those reflection essays.”

“I thought those were better written than the usual simplified essays of his that the late Queen made me review,” a voice said from the open double doors to the dining hall. “When I questioned them, she said that it was a sign that Luther had gotten smarter.”

“To think she paid that much attention to Beks and couldn’t recognize her writing to cover for her son,” Laz said with a slight snort. He collected the medical documents back into the folder and looked at the bright and relaxed Laurence with a beaming smile on his face entering the dining hall. “What are you doing here so early? I thought you’d stay in with the Queen after your wedding night.”

Laurence paused as he approached one of the stewards who stepped forward to take his orders. For a moment, Laurence’s eyes widened, as if stunned, before softening and smiling at Laz. “Say it again.”

“What are you doing here?” Laz raised a brow.

“No, call her the Queen,” Laurence replied with a bit of sourness in his voice as he seemed to try to hold back his joy.

Across the table, the diners smiled. Laz laughed and matched his brother’s beaming smile. “I thought you’d stay in with your beloved Queen Eleanor this morning. The gods know you both deserve it.”

A flush filled Laurence’s face. Beks chuckled. It wasn’t as if the happy royal couple wasn’t already expecting a child, but she supposed the novelty of finally being married was something new and exciting.

“Your Queen is still sleeping, but I wanted to come down and put in orders for our meals today. We’re still understaffed, especially with much of the support staff off today to celebrate,” Laurence told them. Laurence declared it a holiday for the next two days during the procession the day before. “I will be in my villa today and tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’m still working-”

“Working?” Laz frowned.

Lucian mirrored his look and pushed the medical records away. “Brother, you were just married yesterday. Take some time to rest.”

Laurence gave his two younger brothers a knowing expression. “Oh? Did you take time to rest after you signed your marriage documents?”

“That’s different,” Beks said, looking up from her half-eaten breakfast. “We didn’t spend an entire day going through the ceremonial motions of both a wedding and a coronation. We only signed documents.”

“Yes, but what were you doing before you signed those documents?” Laurence asked with an air of triumph around him.

“I know!” Wrath said, raising her arm high into the air. “Sister and Brother-in-laws were on a military march and had entered the city to conquer it!”

“Excellent memory, Lady Wrath. They did indeed spend months in a military camp, marching towards the city,” Laurence replied. He looked back at his siblings. “And while I appreciate your enthusiasm for my rest, there are still plenty of things I need to do. Isn’t that right, Beks?”

She wrinkled her nose and gave him a look of protest. “One day to spend with your wife isn’t going to delay much, if anything.”

“It isn’t as if we’re not working today, either,” Lucian said. “Laz is going to deliver the official punishment and fine notifications in the city today. I have a meeting with the cavalry on their return to the Forbidden Valley later.”

Laurence nodded and looked towards Beks, whose mouth was half stuffed with breakfast. She chewed her food and met his gaze quizzically. She swallowed her breakfast and knit her brows together.

“I’ve already corrected the most damaging of the policies during Luther’s reign. If you have nothing else for me to do right now, I had planned to continue my research on the Muil Stones and the Oracles,” Beks replied.

Laurence cocked his head to the side. “I thought you already know where Oracle Elpidah is?”

“I do, but there is something more pressing that I can’t seem to dismiss as minor,” Beks told him.

Laurence furrowed his brows. “Did you tell Luther you know where his wife is?”

“I did,” Beks replied. “He is relieved to know she is at the Great Temple Complex, but is concerned that we will continue to seek to punish her for her part in the usurpation.”

“It’ll be difficult to get to her if she’s seeking shelter at the Great Temple Complex,” Laurence said with a frown.

“Difficult,” Robert said after tapping his mouth with a napkin. “But not impossible.”

Sybil smirked a bit. “Far from impossible.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to go into trying to extract and punish her right now. It’s not worth the trouble and I don’t yet have enough information to make a decisive course of action,” Beks replied. “The Temple is planning something; I can feel it in my bones. I just need to find out what.”

Laurence nodded. “If there is anything we can help you with, inform us.” He gave a nod towards her parents and the children before turning to the steward to relay their meals for the day.

Once he was done, Laurence returned to his villa.

“Why didn’t you tell him about Luther’s condition?” Robert asked after a few moments.

“It’s nothing that can’t wait. Also, we don’t yet have a reason as to why,” Beks said.

Sybil nodded. “It could be almost anything. Perhaps it is simply a natural birth defect, it could be the result of his mother and father being cousins. The Hessings do often marry extended relatives. It could be a mutation or have eaten something we don’t know about.”

“His father certainly couldn’t have caused it,” Laz replied. “Neither would the late Queen.”

Lucian frowned a bit. “If it is hereditary, what are the chances that we are affected?”

Laz shook his head. “The military requires physical examinations. If neither they nor Mother-in-law diagnosed us with an issue, then we’re fine.”

“Isn’t that only for you, Your Highness?” Robert asked with a raised brow.

“When they were close enough, they liked to switch places,” Beks replied.

“Yes, I had thought they over looked the Water of the Covenant at first,” Lucian said as he rubbed his chin. “Or that the effect of it was not detectable.”

This earned them a slight grin from their father-in-law. “Are you saying that our legions can’t tell twins apart?”

“I purposely went out of my way to act as my brother,” Lucian replied.

“Daddy, can you tell who is who?” Wrath asked.

“Of course, I can. The way they speak has a slight difference in cadence,” Robert told his daughter.

“Mommy?” Wrath asked, looking at her mother.

“Their biha is different, and I can sense the difference,” Sybil replied. “It is faint, but it is there.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Laz said. Lucian nodded.

Wrath wrinkled her nose and looked at her brother. “Brother Thad?”

“Brother Laz moves slightly different from Brother Lucian. If you watch them long enough, you notice,” Thad said as he finished his breakfast.

“What? Am I the only one who couldn’t tell the difference?” Wrath puffed out her cheeks.

“You still can’t tell?” Lucian asked with an amused chuckle.

Wrath’s face reddened. “It took me a while, but I got it!”

“Hmm...well, you’ve been working hard lately helping me with running messages and my research,” Beks said, looking across the table. “You and Thad can take a break until I call you back.”

The two looked up with undisguised excitement on their faces. “How long is our break?” Thad asked.

“At least three days-”

“How about a week?” Thad asked.

Beks raised a brow. “A week?”

“We’re bored here.” Wrath gave her sister a serious look and Thad nodded. Beks sighed.

“All right, a week and a half.”

The two looked at each other and nodded. “We have a month until we leave, this will give us plenty of time to get what we wanted in the city.”

“Mommy, Daddy, what are your plans?” Beks looked towards her parents.

“While I’m here, I’m meeting with the other dukes and discussing the review of the legions now that His Majesty has returned to power,” Robert said. “Your mother has been tasked with reviewing the naval commands, as the Admiral under Luther was discharged.”

“I’ll leave for the Port of Black Sands tomorrow and will likely remain there until we leave for the Duchy. There was a lot of damage to those ships and many of those sailors will require review,” Sybil told their daughter.

Beks nodded, disappointed that her mother had to leave earlier, but pleased that the navy review was in good hands.

“And I spoke to Sister Levina yesterday. She’ll assist you with your research on the Muil Stones going forward,” Lucian told her.

“What about your light biha training?” Beks asked.

“There are only so many lessons that can be done before I have an acceptable level of competence for what I’ve learned so far,” Lucian told her.

Laz raised a brow. “So, you’re not progressing fast enough and need to practice before you have enough ability to proceed?”

Lucian met his brother’s eyes, embrassed. “That is one way of putting it.”

Beks smiled and reached towards him to gently pat his hand in comfort. “You are progressing very fast already.”

A smile filled his face, and he leaned forward to kiss her. “As long as you think so, my love.”

Laz rolled his eyes from across the table before finishing his meal. A sizable entourage was waiting for him to begin delivering the notices to the sentenced families. It wasn’t that they expected a lot of resistance, as most of the assets of those families, including money to pay for guards and servants had already been seized.

Regardless, a firm show of power was needed to remind those nobles that Laurence had returned, and he had strong support.

Lucian escorted Beks to the library and waited until Sister Levina arrived to then take Jonas, who had not left the former priestess in training’s side. Beks watched with amusement as Jonas tried to assert his place.

“Your Highness, while as a member of the royal family and your words are near paramount, I must remind you that as a Wild Dog, only the Battalion Commander and his superiors can give me an assignment,” Jonas said, standing up straight and trying to appear confident in his argument.

Sister Levina looked a bit concerned at the confrontation and wanted to raise her hands and calm Jonas down, but Beks grasped her arms and led her back to the table.

“It’s fine. Lucian will be fine.”

Sister Levina shook her head and quickly scribbled on her slate. “It’s not Lucian I’m worried about.”

Beks held back a muffled snort and then patted the older woman’s hand to comfort her. “Just watch.”

“Jonas,” Lucian said as he looked at the soldier with dull, unimpressed eyes. “While I am not your direct commander, I am still giving you an order both as a prince, and as a messenger relaying an order of your Battalion Commander. I understand your reluctance to obey me, but in all honesty, I don’t have time to argue. You can either report to the command office and do the tasks Laz ordered you of your own free will, or I can take you there myself.”

Beks took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. “He’s so attractive when he speaks like that.”

Sister Levina scrunched her face and looked at Beks with dismay, as if silently asking her if now was the time to be thinking such things.

Jonas met Lucian’s eyes as a heavy silence settled between them. Beks could tell that he was weighing his options. On the one hand, if he refused on the technicality that it wasn’t Laz himself giving him the order, he could stay with Sister Levina...for however long Lucian would allow it.

On the other hand, he could go through the rest of his day unharmed, with the possibility of returning to Sister Levina’s side after working hours.

Despite the reluctance of his face, Jonas chose the latter. His shoulders slumped just a bit as he swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and turned around to face Sister Levina.

“Lele, I’m going to go work. I’ll come by at lunch and then after my shift, I will come to walk you back to the Hall of Tranquility.”

Sister Levina nodded solemnly and watched as Jonas seemed to sulk out of the library. Beks raised a brow. “Lele?”

The older woman’s face flooded with color, and she shyly turned her head away. She let out a slight cough and motioned towards the piles of books on the library table. Beks chuckled and began telling her what she was looking for.

Using another pile of paper and some pens, Sister Levina admitted that she had not heard of any importance of Muil Stones aside from religious artifacts. They were symbols of the saints, and despite all the mysticism and reverence, the Muil Stones didn’t carry any special powers, such as healing.

Touching one was supposed to bring a blessing, but what the blessing was had no tangible explanation. Safety, perhaps? Something psychological?

It didn’t matter if they did, as in order to preserve relics, the Temple enshrined them behind glass or in a room or fenced off altar to avoid being touched and accidentally damaged by a pilgrim. Seeing the relic and being in the same vicinity as one was as close to being ‘blessed’ by it as possible.

“But their main purpose is to be symbolic and remind believers of the sacrifices for faith that these saints have made,” Lucian said.

Beks squinted in her eyes. She never really thought too deeply about it, but when he said it like that, she couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that relics were from those who died, when they died. Any item belonging to a saint when they were alive wouldn’t do. A relic had to be in use or worn the moment a saint died to be considered as such.

“It is a reminder of mortality?” Beks asked in a low voice.

Sister Levina wrote something down and then slid the paper across to her. “Dying for the Temple is worth it and can prove your devotion.” She seemed to carry a look of disapproval.

Lucian released a low breath and nodded. “I don’t believe the gods would want us to die for the Temple.”

“What about the human sacrifice to the gods?” Beks said.

Sister Levina scribbled earnestly. “It was rarely done and only continued in the early Temple years. It was picked up from various sects, but was not prevalent.”

Beks narrowed her eyes. “What sects allowed for human sacrifice?”

Sister Levina thought for a moment. “I think it also depended on the region, not only sect.” She tapped her pencil before continuing. “It was practiced in the sect that St. Ingrid was born into.”

“St. Ingrid the first priestess of Xeria of the six who founded the Temple as we know it today,” Lucian said.

Beks knew the general story. Not the exact details, but as the Temple was the dominant religious institution on the western half of the continent she knew. The Temple had grown after organizing the religious practices of various sects and creating a ritual and order to them that was easy to follow and spread.

Before the Temple as they knew of it today, the pantheon of gods, goddesses, and spirits were worshipped in different ways depending on which deity was at the forefront, was considered a patron, or was needed at a particular time. The method or worship also depended on region.

Gah-ruhn was best described as animistic, with everything in the world having souls and biha. Reverence was given in the form of dance, song, and burning offerings of food. According to the records Beks found, Gah-ruhn did not practice sacrifice of human or animal life.

There were periods of fasting and inaction of a certain practice, such as hunting or sailing, as a way to give reverence, but the taking of a life to show devotion was considered a form of sacrilege.

Thinking about this, Beks furrowed her brows. “Sister Levina, do you know anything about or have heard of the Temple’s relationship to the ancient civilization called Gah-ruhn? It was a country on a peninsula and islands south of where Kadmus is today.”

Sister Levina returned to the sheets to write. “I heard on the ships to and from Aceria that it is your island. Is it Gurani or Gah-ruhn?”

“They are interchangeable for the most part, but in modern times, we call it Gurani and Gurani Island, but in reference to the ancient, original civilization of the region, we refer to it as Gah-ruhn,” Beks replied.

Sister Levina nodded and continued to write. “I haven’t read anything with either name, but!” She underlined ‘but’. “There are old books that mention a land to the south that was tropical. People told me that Gurani is tropical.”

Beks wasn’t surprised at this. Sister Levina, like many others after this entire ordeal, planned to move to the island along with the children she’d brought with them from the Great Temple Complex.

“Could they have been referring to Gah-ruhn?” Lucian asked, looking over at his wife.

“It’s possible,” Beks replied. “Sister Levina, did they write anything else about that place?”

Sister Levina slid them another slip of paper. “It was sunk into the sea as punishment for disobeying the will of the gods.”

Beks narrowed her eyes. “All right, it seems they were referring to Gah-ruhn.”

“The story we’ve heard in legend and passed down through Aceria don’t mention a punishment for disobeying the will of the gods,” Lucian said. He looks up at Sister Levina. “Is this what the Temple believes?”

Sister Levina gave him a slight, helpless shrug before replying. “It is all I can remember reading. There is not much, but it existed before the Temple was founded.”

“That matches up with the history passed down in Aceria,” Beks replied. “Gah-ruhn was a thriving civilization when the Temple was just a fledgling religion. Gah-ruhn was set in its religious practices, as well. Unlike the disjointed sects, they had a unified ritual system. They would not have adopted the Temple’s teachings easily. Also, the Temple only worships deities and saints, right? Not...well, bihar?”

Both Lucian and Sister Levina shook their heads. “There are gods to various natural phenomenon and concepts, but not to bihar.”

“Bihar is essentially energy from nature and living beings absorb it to turn it into biha. In a bihar-rich place like Gah-ruhn, this would’ve been exceedingly important,” Beks told them.

Sister Levina narrowed her eyes and then continued to write across a blank sheet.

“The Temple absorbed and ritualized the practices of the sects in the region, organizing them so the practices and rituals around each god was standardized. This made it easier to practice, but there is always resistance to what is new. Not all practices of every sect in the region were absorbed. Some were even labeled as disrespectful or redundant.”

Lucian leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Resistance to the new isn’t new itself.”

“Neither is using brute force to replace the old,” Beks said, reading over Sister Levina’s text. “It’s possible that those groups that resisted were silenced one way or another. We never hear of practices that stray too far from the norm now, even with the differences in region and environment. You can go to any shrine to a specific god or to a Temple in Kadmium, Paraxes, and the Great Temple Complex, and the rituals will be similar, if not identical in all those places.”

Lucian suddenly sat up straight in his seat. He whirled to look at Beks with wide eyes. “Gah-ruhn was a powerful country at that time that rejected this new, for lack of a better term, cult. The Temple could never grow if it faced such opposition.”

Beks closed her eyes and nodded her head slowly. Now more than ever, she felt the visceral anger she had for the Temple that the Grand Duke and his people had. She swallowed hard and tried to calm herself. Her hand began to twitch, as if itching to take up a weapon and avenge a civilization that disappeared thousands of years ago.

Lucian grabbed her hand. He squeezed it hard before bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles firmly, lingering there until their eyes met, and hers regained their calm.

“They will not take Gurani from you,” he told her in a low, soft voice. “You are bound to it, and it is bound to you.”

Beks took a deep breath and exhaled twice before nodding.

“At least now, we seem to have a motive,” she replied. She looked back at Sister Levina, whose concerned expression didn’t wane. “I’m fine, Sister.”

Another slip of paper was pushed towards Beks. “The Temple is not as good as it wants the world to believe.”

A wry smile reached Beks’ lips and she nodded. “I know.”

Lucian kept a firm grip on her hand and looked back at the piles of books on the table. “Sister Levina, since we’re trying to understand the Muil Stones, can you tell Beks the history of each one? As in, who each saint was? Perhaps there is something more that connects them.”

Sister Levina nodded.

“It starts with St. Ingrid.”

During a period where different regions were led religiously by different sects, St. Ingrid was born on the southwestern part of the continent, on the mainland. She was the daughter of a Sejah, an ancient holy man or woman who led the community in religious matters, including prayer and sacrifice to their gods.

As a child, St. Ingrid was plagued with visions of volcanic eruption, forest fires, earthquakes, and a slew of natural disasters. The place where St. Ingrid lived didn’t have volcanos and no one had told her what they were, so the fact that she knew without ever being told of one was a good reason her Sejah parent believed that the gods had chosen her.

In St. Ingrid’s visions, the natural disaster would always be followed by a period of healing. Animals and flowers would return, sometimes growing from the ashes left behind.

The Sejah told their daughter that because she dreamt of destruction and rebirth, the visions must’ve been sent to her by Xeria, the goddess of destruction and order through rebirth, as a sign that she was a chosen one of the goddess. St. Ingrid was told that she had a holy calling.

She was to go and spread the teachings of Xeria; do not fear destruction or death, as rebirth will bring about order and peace. It was said that she had told her parents that she was not afraid to die, Xeria would give her rebirth to do her duty once again.

Moved by her visions and strong belief, St. Ingrid left home for neighboring villages before she was in her teens to proselytize. A young warrior woman, whom she saved from death as a ‘vision from Xeria’ after the warrior was captured in a skirmish with another group, accompanied her. The woman would eventually become St. Geogiere, another of the first six.

St. Ingrid collected the other four in her travels slowly, and unifying the religious beliefs of the area. St. Cyric was a scholar and orator. He was credited with standardizing the basic rituals and practice and spreading them where they went, laying the foundation of what would become the Temple.

St. Cormac and St. Yephan set up small temples and shrines dedicated to multiple gods at the same time, allowing for pan-deity worship in one place, and giving fixed locations for ritualized practices.

St. Myriagus was the last of the priests and priestesses. She was a mercenary left to die, but was saved by St. Ingrid. That explained the rather extraordinary relic of blood in a sword. St. Myriagnus was convinced of her ‘rebirth’ after being saved by St. Ingrid, and became her protector.

“Early texts say she was the most fanatical of the six,” Sister Levina wrote. “She was very protective whenever St. Ingrid was concerned.”

“Well, she owed St. Ingrid her life after all,” Beks replied. It wasn’t very strange to think someone would become protective over the one who saved their life.

According to the founding story, they spent ten years wandering the area from what was now the lower west coast of Kadmus and down to the archipelagos of Paraxes in the south. In that time, they had not gone further east than the edges of the forests before the steppes.

Sister Levina made no more mention of Gah-ruhn. It seemed that the ancient civilization with all its advancements wasn’t more than a footnote in the Temple’s history.

Am I being a bit sensitive because of my ties or does that seem somewhat strange that such a civilization wouldn’t be mentioned more? Beks nodded, listening to Lucian add his thoughts while her own mind wandered.

“...fell to her death. It was sudden and apparently everyone was surprised,” Lucian said.

Beks perked up and looked at him. “Who fell to their death?”

“St. Ingrid. She was not only the first, but the youngest,” Lucian replied. “She wasn’t even thirty when she died.”

“And she fell?” Beks asked. She tilted her head to the side, looking from Lucian to Sister Levina and back. “Were they in hostile territory and she lost her footing in a panic?”

“They were climbing a mountain, as St. Ingrid had a dream that from the top of the mountain they’d see the future home of the Temple, that is, the Great Temple Complex,” Lucian told her. “St. Ingrid fell, and St. Myriagnus didn’t get to her in time.”

Sister Levina pushed forward a piece of paper. “It is said that when St. Myriagnus found St. Ingrid, St. Ingrid was pointing into the Great Basin. From the mountain, St. Myriagnus could see the island where the Great Temple Complex was built later.”

“St. Myriagnus also consecrated the ground by burying the first Temple saint there,” Lucian added. Beks nodded and paused.

“The first Temple saint is St. Ingrid?”

“Yes.”

“And she’s buried under the Great Temple Complex?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why is her relic, her heart, missing?”

Sister Levina nodded her head, understanding her confusion. She wrote some more to answer her. “After the death of St. Myriagnus, who requested to have her sword buried beside St. Ingrid after her death, the tomb was exhumed. St. Ingrid’s body had long deteriorated, but her clothes had shifted. She was buried with gold adornments, so they checked to see if anything was stolen. Her chest had been cut open and her heart removed.”

Beks drew her head back and let out a low hiss. Her right hand rose over her chest. “Did no one notice?” She couldn’t imagine that anyone was allowed to walk into the first saint’s tomb unescorted for long enough to open the tomb and mutilate the body.

“I suppose not,” Lucian said. “They never found the heart.”

“The heart is the most important part,” Sister Levina wrote.

Beks pursed her lips. “Well, what about the other priests and priestesses, how did they die?” Lucian looked towards Sister Levina for guidance on the subject.

Sister Levina replied in order of their deaths.

St. Cyril was old when they met, and he died on the road going north to spread the word of the Temple. He wasn’t traveling alone. At this point, the priests and priestesses traveled with a small entourage for both company and protection. St. Cyril’s, like all the original six, was to be buried at the Great Temple Complex with St. Ingrid.

In transit back with the body, they were attacked, and St. Cyril’s jaw was lost.

St. Yephan died in the midst of a war. He was shot with multiple arrows and his relic was the arrow that went through his eye. The arrow was kept at the monastery built in the mountains near where he died, but St. Yephan’s body was brought back to the Great Temple Complex.

St. Geogiere vowed to continue doing what St. Ingrid did and pressed further south. She had also been caught in a battle. She was captured and to escape, she cut off her own foot to free her from her chains. She only made it as far as the last group of converts before she died, giving them instructions to return to the Great Basin.

“Her last group of converts were a mercenary group,” Lucian told Beks. “They would become the first paladins.”

“This is quite an origin story,” Beks replied. “What about St. Cormac?”

“He was also killed in battle in the desert. He was close with St. Ingrid and St. Ingrid had asked St. Myriagnus cared for him should something happen to her, so St. Myriagnus, after she construction of the Great Temple Complex began and the temple to Xeria and the shrine to St. Ingrid were completed, went to guard St. Cormac,” Sister Levina wrote. “But not a few months later, she returned with St. Cormac’s body. His hand was missing, and no one knows why.”

“And the last one to die was St. Myriagnus,” Beks said.

Lucian nodded. “It’s a famous story and it’s often told to us when we were students. St. Myriagnus wanted to join the others in death. She went to what she considered a sacred place and used the sword gifted to her by St. Ingrid, and offered herself as a sacrifice to Xeria.”

The sacred place in question was Strahnroc that Lucian and Sister Levina had told her about before, where the current Temple held their new year’s blessings.

Beks lowered her eyes for a moment. “Why did she consider Strahnroc sacred?” She narrowed her eyes as if she had a guess. She shook her head. “Well, now we know about where each relic came from and where it is or went missing.” She looked up at the other two. “But there is nothing outstanding about the Muil Stones that set them apart from the relics left by later saints, right? Aside from that some of them are body parts.”

Lucian thought for a moment and Sister Levina shook her head. “The relics are considered sacred because believers believe them to be. There is nothing about any special powers they have.”

“Oh, but touching one or being near one is said to bring blessings,” Lucian said.

Sister Levina made a dismissive motion with her hand. “Blessings are not tangible and can be said to be in one’s mind. How do we know if it is a blessing or just luck?”

“That’s a good point,” Beks agreed. “But I suppose it does give peace of mind.” Sister Levina nodded in agreement. “When did the term Muil Stones come into use?”

Lucian grimaced. “That’s something far too detailed-” Sister Levina held up a piece of paper with the answer and Lucian sighed. “Or perhaps I’m just ignorant.”

Beks let out a small chortle and stroked his arm. She smiled and looked at the answer. “Two hundred years after the Temple was founded?” Sister Levina nodded before writing more.

“Another priest had died and became a saint with a gemstone ring as his relic. The name ‘Muil Stones’ was given to relics left by the first six.”

“At the time, weren’t some of them missing?” Beks asked. Sister Levina nodded. “They just named missing relics as relics?” Sister Levina nodded again and Beks squinted. “Why?”

Sister Levina shrugged. She didn’t know either.

“Then, it seems that the only reason they have a special name is to identify them as the relics left by the original priests and priestesses,” Lucian said. Sister Levina shrugged again, but this time with a small nod, suggesting that it was the likely case.

“At least this highlights their importance. What relics could be more important than those left behind by the original six,” Beks said. Even as she said it, she felt that something was missing beyond the surface level explanation, and it bothered her that she didn’t know what. Why the delay before they were given an official name? Why did they decide on relics that were missing when the bodies of all the six were buried at the Great Temple Complex?

And what made St. Myriagnus chose Strahnroc? A random mountain top?

╔═════════════════ ∘◦ ♔ ◦∘ ═════════════════╗

Her eyes flew open, and she shoved the man on top of her off. “It’s where Ingrid died!”

Lucian let out a cry as he stumbled off and landed on the cushions, bounced once, and rolled off the bed.

“Beks!” Laz crawled out from her other side, scrambling to the edge where his brother had fallen off, and looked down. “Lucian?”

“Lucian!” She suddenly remembered where she was and who she was with. She crawled to the edge and looked down.

Lucian was pushing himself up from the floor, his bare legs tangled with some sheets as he squinted, as if trying to make sense of how he ended up where he was.

Beks slid off the side of the bed and knelt down beside him to pick him up.

He blinked and looked up at her. “I’m fine...what...?”

“A thought just came to me, and I got excited.”

“Who is Ingrid?” Laz asked as he pulled the sheets off of Lucian’s legs so he could stand unobstructed. Beks brushed off her younger husband’s side and checked for any injury.

“St. Ingrid, the first saint and priestess of the Temple.” Hearing that, Laz gave her a tired look.

“You’re still thinking about that? Now?” he asked. Lucian rubbed his side and gave Beks a tired, hurt look.

“Was I not enough to keep your attention?”

Alarm filled her. She quickly wrapped her arms around her husband and kissed his lips, his jaw, and his neck in succession before burying her face against him.

“No, not at all. I’ve been distracted and the thought suddenly popped into my mind.” Beks pressed her lips against his flushed neck once more, lingering there for a few moments as one hand played with his hair and the other ran up and down the side of his body that had hit the floor when he rolled off the bed. “My Lucian is always very satisfying. It’s me who is inattentive. I’m sorry.”

Lucian seemed to pout a bit, but grabbed onto her thighs. He picked her up, hooking her legs around his waist as he returned to the bed. As he sat down with Beks on his lap he drew his head back to look at her.

“The Muil Stones are disturbing your peace this badly. It’s cause for concern,” he said with a heavy voice.

Laz sat down beside them. “This is about the Muil Stones?”

He had been spending most of his time the last week visiting sentenced nobles in the city. Aside from informing them, he also had to oversee the collection of any fines, and then an array of paperwork following up.

Before the wedding, Deo had been there to assist him, as well as look over the royal guards, but Deo was leaving for Sagittate earlier than everyone else and had no time to help with the sentencing.

Beks reached over and cupped the side of Laz’s head. “You’ve been busy and exhausted. I have been researching the Muil Stones and the original six priests and priestesses of Xeria, but the results have been the same.”

“Then, what’s this about St. Ingrid?” Lucian asked. His arms were fixed firmly around her, and he rested his head on her chest.

“I kept wondering why St. Myriagnus selected Strahnroc to sacrifice herself. Sister Levina and you both said that she had chosen a ‘sacred’ place. There must have been a reason it was sacred. What makes a sacred spot? A miracle happened there, there was a religious ceremony that was held there, or-”

“Someone important died there,” Laz said, his eyes growing large. He looked at his wife with furrowed brows. “Did she choose to die in the place where St. Ingrid died?”

“That would certainly make the site sacred if a saint died there,” Lucian replied. “Although, she fell to her death.”

Beks narrowed her eyes. “Can she not fall to her death on Strahnroc?”

“Well, anyone can fall off a mountain and die, but Strahnroc itself is on a spring at the peak of the mountain,” Lucian told them. “The top of the mountain hasn’t changed since the Temple’s founding. With that in mind, it was likely that St. Ingrid fell from Strahnroc. She didn’t land on it. She couldn’t have.”

Beks drew her lips inward and bit them. After a few moments she looked at Lucian. “Is it possible for non-clergy to visit Strahnroc?”

Lucian paused for a moment. His brows knit together as he met her gaze. “There is a pilgrimage site at the base of the mountain where Strahnroc is located, but the peak is reserved for clergy.”

“How well guarded is it?” Laz asked. That was her next question and Beks couldn’t help but look at her husband, pleased.

“There is a single road leading up to the spring, and only the entrance which is located at the back of the pilgrimage site is guarded. However, on festival days or the new year, when there is a procession going to the site, there are more paladins on guard along the route,” Lucian told them. “The next festival that would have a procession there is for the summer solstice, though it’s not as elaborate as the new year’s blessing.”

“Do you think the Temple will have the procession considering their current situation?” Laz asked.

His brother let out a small, disgruntled scoff and nodded. “Of course. They’ll never pass up a chance to show off their strength. By having a procession for the solstice, it’ll give the appearance of normalcy.”

Laz nodded his head. “I can’t say I don’t admire their determination.”

“Can laymen watch the procession?” Beks asked.

Lucian shook his head. “Only from the pilgrimage site with a spyglass. Only clergy and paladins are allowed past the gate and only clergy are allowed at Strahnroc.”

Laz seemed to watch her face before a knowing smirk appeared on his. “Don’t tell me you want to take the rokhs there to watch.”

“I’ve already committed so much sacrilege against the Temple, trespassing on to one of their sacred sites to watch a secret religious procession and ceremony won’t matter,” Beks said with a proud, defiant look.

“Yes.” Lucian once more rested his head against Beks’ chest and turned so he could meet his brother’s eyes with smug ones. “What is a little more sacrilege?”

Laz rolled his eyes. “Do also keep in mind that the Temple is still reeling from your last visit. They may extend their caution towards any outside processions, which would mean more paladins than normal.”

“The chance to witness a ceremony may be of help to what Beks is trying to figure out,” Lucian replied. “If we can sneak in and out, and remain hidden in between, Beks can observe and perhaps come to a conclusion as to why the Muil Stones are important.”

Laz nodded, appearing convinced. “Then, you have to prepare her well, since you’re the only one of us who has been there. How is the terrain? Are there places to hide?”

Lucien let out a bit of a hiss. “Therein lies the problem. The peak has no trees, no stone outcroppings. It's only defining feature is the spring and the stone slab marking where St. Myriagnus died.”

Laz crinkled his eyes with disapproval. “All the shadow biha in the world is not going to hide her when there are no shadows to begin with.”

“I know, I know.”

“What is the landscape like?” Beks asked. “In terms of foliage. Is there grass? Is it tall?”

“You want to hide in the tall grass?” Laz gave her a look of disbelief.

“There are low lying shrubs along the cliffside.”

“There is a cliffside?” Beks looked back at the man beneath her. “Hold on. I want you to draw this out for me.” She put her hands on Lucian’s shoulders and unwound her legs from his hips.

“Right now?” Lucian clamored to keep hold of her, wearing an abandoned expression as she slipped away.

“Before we lose focus.”

Lucian tilted his head back as he leaned against his arms and let out a heavy sigh. “I think we already lost focus....”

Laz elbowed him. “Let her be excited. You know how she is when she’s excited.”

Lucian thought for a moment and nodded. Beks was already halfway to a desk against the wall and fished out some paper and a pencil. She presented it to Lucian, who had no choice but to sketch out the side view of the mountain and the overhead view.

“The road is enough for a small, narrow single horse drawn cart. It winds up the southwestern side of the mountain, which has the gentlest slope. The northern side of the mountain is the side that faces the Great Basin.”

If Beks took what Sister Levina wrote, it was likely that St. Ingrid fell from the cliffside. First, it was the most drastic place to fall from and had the highest chance of death. Second, if she was found with her hand pointing towards the location of the future Great Temple Complex, she needed to have been pointing north.

“How much time does Beks have until the procession?” Laz asked.

Lucian took a deep breath and was quiet for a moment. “Solstice is in two weeks.”

“That’s more than enough time to fly over with the rokhs, do reconnaissance on the area, and prepare a place to hide,” Laz replied. He looked at Beks. “What do you think?”

She nodded. “Give me two days to finalize my work for Brother Laurence. We can leave at night.”

“We should bring Sister Levina,” Lucian said. “She may be able to understand more things than I can. She’s far more well-versed and well-read on Temple history and practices than I am.”

“Then, we’ll need to take both rokhs,” Laz replied.

Beks shook her head. “No, someone needs to remain with Brother Laurence. My parents will leave soon.”

Laz froze and looked over his shoulder at her. “You want me to stay?”

“There is still a lot for you to do. The royal guards, the legion reorganization,” Lucian said, naming off a few things. “Sister Levina and I are the best choice to go with Beks.”

“Have you nothing better to do?”

“You said so yourself that I was the only one who had been there.”

“It shouldn’t take long.” Beks assured her oldest husband. “We won’t engage with them during the ceremony. Once they leave and the sunsets, we will also leave and return.”

Laz took a deep breath, his clear disapproval on his face. “Do you swear to me you won’t engage?”

There were too few people to fight with and Beks’ main purpose was only to observe. Even if she did have a moment where all her questions were answered and the secret of the Muil Stones, their connection to the oracles and gods were revealed, unless it was urgent, she would step back to prepare further.

“I am not confused,” Beks replied. “I know my limits.”

Laz pursed his lips and nodded. “I will have the nearest battalion to the location move as close as they can. If you need to get away in a hurry, escape to the battalion. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

Beks smiled and nodded, but Lucian sighed.

“She smiles and nods, but we should accept one thing,” Lucian said. “To Beks, any risk she takes is necessary.”