The Wicked House of Caroline

Beks couldn’t help the irrational feeling that she was insulted because Iris Elpidah was not cowering away in the bowels of the Great Temple Complex, hiding from her. Beks thought that since Iris Elpidah fled Kadmium as soon as she could, she had done so fearing being captured, and would remain hidden as long as she could.

Beks didn’t expect her to be gallivanting outside in a very public ceremony.

Granted, Strahnroc was within the territories of the Temple, and there were paladins and high ranking priests and priestesses with her, but the fact that she was confident enough to come outside, knowing she had a part in the near downfall of Kadmus, and the ruination of the Carolines and the three older princes, Beks could not help but marvel at the sheer audacity.

Did she think she was safe as long as she was under the Temple’s umbrella?

Or did Iris Elpidah just not see Beks as a threat.

Perhaps, she didn’t think that Beks wouldn’t try to get her with so many Temple clergy around, which unfortunately, was correct. Attacking them at the moment didn’t feel like the best course of action.

Beks felt Lucian’s hand tighten around hers as she leaned closer to the window and strained to hear what they were saying. They spoke in Esuser, and it wasn’t just her who was listening intensely to what they were saying.

Sister Levina’s eyes were narrowed, and her lips were in a tight line. She almost seemed to glare outside the window. Beks didn’t know how the priests and priestesses just a few paces away couldn’t sense the animosity radiating from Sister Levina.

“High Priest Jung, about the sacrifice to Xeria-”

Iris Elpidah was silenced by a single hand raised in front of her by the man who appeared to be the head High Priest, Jung, who led the ceremony. His back was to Beks and the others, so she couldn’t see his expression, but if he was silencing Iris Elpidah, it was likely stern.

“Wait until the ceremony concludes,” he said in a firm voice laced with some admonishing. Iris Elpidah drew her lips inward and bit them before lowering her head.

It seemed that even as an ‘oracle’, it wasn’t her turn to lead the Temple.

The head priest raised his arms, spoke one more prayer and then bowed over the obsidian again, his motions mirrored by the other priests and priestesses. The attendants waiting around the spring handed the priests wine and the priestesses bundles of herbal flowers to place on the sacrificial stone.

Beks thought they’d just leave the items there, but the flowers were doused in red wine. The empty wine jugs were returned to the attendants, and replaced with thin sticks with a small flame. The offerings of flowers and wine were set on fire.

Beks drew her head back surprise and turned to look at Lucian, who had his eyes narrowed while watching, but didn’t seem to indicate that there was something strange about the ceremony. The fire itself didn’t last long, and once it burned out, the remaining ashes were washed away with handfuls of water from the spring.

The ash-filled liquid slid through the little grooves and into the drainage hole in front of the first priest.

The attendant behind him began to ring a bell to conclude the prayer. After ringing it ten times, the priests and priestesses in the water began to wade out, starting with the head priest and the others following behind him.

As they climbed out of the spring, the attendant who was behind them stepped forward, coordinated, and unraveled a long towel for them. Beks turned her head and noticed at the far end, just before the path turned down the mountain, the attendants with the horse drawn cart had set up two tents, likely for the priests and priestesses to change.

Beks expected all of them to leave, but the head priest stood to the side and watched the others pass. He held up his hand and Iris Elpidah stopped beside him. She didn’t go any further, though their attendants were leaving.

They stood there in silence as all the attendants and other priests and priestesses reached the tents to change or wait on their seniors. Beks craned her neck to try to hear them better.

“High Priest Jung,” Iris Elpidah said once more, bowing her head. She spoke with real subservience in her voice, not the fake one she spoke with in Kadmium that encouraged others to feel pity for her. It seemed that the head priest was someone she had to answer to and her status as an ‘oracle’ had limits.

The head priest looked past her, back at the stone slab and the spring. “The jaw of St. Cyric has yet to be found,” he said in a low voice. Beks could barely hear him talking. “If you want better control of when to return, you need all the Muil Stones.”

Beks narrowed her eyes.

“Are all six of them necessary?” Iris asked. Though her voice was laced with hesitation, there was an underlying urgency.

The head priest didn’t look at her and continued to stare at the spring. “With the blessing of Xeria, we have all the time in the world, Oracle Elpidah.” The old man turned towards her. “You should be patient.”

Iris Elpidah drew her lips inward and nodded, lowering her head in acquiesce.

“Yes, High Priest Jung.”

“The expedition has already left to collect the jaw of St. Cyric. It is the last piece needed.”

At this, Iris Elpidah’s head shot up. Her brows knit together as she gave the older priest a confused look. “The last piece? What about the heart of St. Ingrid?”

High Priest Jung didn’t seem to falter. “The jaw of St. Cyric is indeed the last piece. There is no need for you to worry about the rest. The Temple is burdened with the duty to guard the spring,” he told her. “You need only have your sacrifice ready.”

Iris Elpidah nodded. “Yes, High Priest Jung.”

With that, the High Priest turned towards the path leading back down the mountain, and began to take measured steps towards the group waiting there. Iris kept head bowed, tightening the towel around her half-soaked body, and followed behind.

Beks moved to the far end of the tunnel to watch them leave.

“Your Highness,” Gerard whispered as he approached her. He motioned his head out the narrow windows and moved his hand across his neck, in a ‘slitting the throat’ motion.

Beks shook her head. As tempting as it was to kill off everyone there, as it didn’t take a genius to know that they were not innocent, she had to consider the repercussions of doing so. Even though their paladins had been severely reduced and they were trying to rebuild from the fires, influence-wise, the Temple still had a strong hold over good portions of the western half of the continent.

This included the naval power of Paraxes.

The Emperor of Langshe would assist them if needed, she would bet money on it. But Beks didn’t want to drag her cousin-in-law and Langshe into a foreign mess, especially so soon after Emperor Zhan ascended the throne. To move his armies for his foreign relatives would not gain him any popularity, and Beks was not going to make him look bad.

Besides, if those High Priests, Priestesses, and Iris Elpidah were killed, they’d only be replaced. Furthermore, Beks had even more questions after she heard the two talking. It was clear that the High Priest didn’t want others to hear them.

Perhaps the other High Priests and Priestesses knew what they were talking about, but lower-level clergy did not. Lucian certainly didn’t know and looked confused and suspicious when High Priest Jung mentioned the Muil Stones.

Until Beks figured out what was going on, the sources of information needed to stay alive instead of being silenced.

Gerard looked a bit disappointed when she shook her head. Beks sighed.

“You can cause them a little trouble,” she whispered.

His face lit up and he nodded. He turned towards the window and narrowed his eyes. Rid Callan had made their hiding place wide enough for people to move around without bumping into each other, so Gerard was able to his body to collect biha and focus it.

The hairs around Beks face flew up as a gust of wind swept past them, almost whistling against the opening of the windows before flying towards the path.

Screams and yells filled the air further away as the tents that had been set up were blown upwards and toppled over. There hadn’t been so much as a breeze earlier, so the changing tents were not secured to the ground.

Beks shook her head as Gerard and his possibly future sister-in-law Sister Levina snickered with glee as they watched the priests and priestesses scramble.

The procession down was delayed, but they weren’t planning to come out of their hiding place until well after dark. It was entertaining enough to watch the frazzled priests and priestesses rushing around, trying to get the tents and the spooked horse who was surprised by the tumbling tents.

When the night came, Rid Callan split the earth once more to let them climb out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to capture Iris Elpidah?” Lucian asked. Beks nodded.

“She is involved in something, and I need to know what. Capturing her now would alert the Temple and it would be more difficult to find out what they were hiding,” Beks replied. “It’s clear it can’t be spoken out loud around just anyone.”

“What do we do now?” Gerard asked.

“Call for the rokhs,” Beks told him. “And get us back to the battalion camp. I need to make some calls.”

Sister Levina tugged on her sleeve and held up her slate. She gathered some light biha in her hand that was just enough to make out the letters.

“There have been no expeditions for the heart of St. Ingrid.”

Beks narrowed her eyes. “Ever?”

Sister Levina nodded.

“From what the High Priest said, is it possible that the Temple has always had it and the theft of her heart was just a rumor?” Lucian asked.

Beks frowned. “But why would they make such a rumor that made it seem as if such an important artifact was stolen from under their noses? Wouldn’t that only make them seem incompetent?”

He took a deep breath and shrugged. “They’ve done much stranger things.”

“Putting aside the heart of St. Ingrid, it would mean that the only Muil Stone missing now is the jaw of St. Cyric,” Beks replied. “And it’s the last piece of something important.”

“Is it a festival or some sort of religious ceremony?” Gerard asked.

“Yes, some places parade around their relics during holy festivals which accompany religious ceremonies,” Rid Callan confirmed.

Beks looked towards Sister Levina, who carried a contemplative look. She chewed on her lower lip and then wiped her slate with her sleeve to write her answer.

“I don’t know of any ceremonies that require all six Muil Stones,” Sister Levina told them.

“In that case, perhaps it isn’t something that is kept secret,” Beks said. “That only a select people know.”

“The High Priests and Priestesses on the council,” Lucian replied. “And there is always an empty seat on the council that is held for the oracle. When there is no oracle, the seat is not filled.”

“Then Iris Elpidah has a seat at the Temple’s council? But she hasn’t earned the title of Great Oracle.” Beks raised a brow. Both Lucian and Sister Levina nodded. Beks clenched her jaw. “No wonder she wasn’t afraid of coming out.” She let out a low breath. “I need to find out where the jaw of St. Cyric is.”

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

“I thought you would ask about that, so we had our people watching,” Mr. Kesse told her from the urapearl. “The expedition was supposed to leave from the Great Temple Complex, like they’ve done in the past.”

Beks raised a brow as she leaned back against her seat. “But they didn’t?”

Mr. Kesse inhaled deeply and narrowed his eyes. “An expedition did leave from the Great Temple Complex, but whether it was a real expedition, or a decoy is uncertain.”

Beks frowned. “What do you mean decoy? Why would they have a decoy expedition....” She trailed off and closed her eyes, sighing heavily. “It seems that the Muil Stones are more important than we gave them credit for.”

“Our people were eyeing the major trade routes for any suspicious caravans, but I’m afraid we do not have enough eyes to watch all the minor routes, Your Highness,” Mr. Kesse said with some regret.

Beks shook her head, waving off the thought. “We are not all knowing. Even with an entire country watching, it is possible to miss something. I don’t blame you or Nexus.”

Mr. Kesse looked a bit relieved, but quickly perked up, determined. “If we cannot find them leaving, perhaps we can find them returning.” He sighed. “However, that may be too late.”

Beks nodded. By the time the Temple had the jaw of St. Cyric in their hands, it could be too late. Too late for what, Beks wasn’t sure, but it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to happen.

“If you feel the expedition that left from the Great Temple Complex is only a decoy, make sure someone is noticed ‘watching them’. As long as they believe they are leading someone away, then they will be confident that their ploy is working. As for the real expedition, we can only continue to search in secret,” Beks told him. “Listen for any news regarding money or supplies of any sort sent out.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Mr. Kesse, also, send someone to watch Strahnroc,” Beks said. “It’s the holy mountain peak at the southern edge of the Great Basin.”

Mr. Kesse nodded. “Is there anything we should be aware of to prepare?”

“Non-clergy are not allowed to go up the mountain, but there is a pilgrimage site at the base of the mountain. The route to the top is guarded, so it isn’t necessary to go up. However, it seems that whatever ceremony is to happen may happen there.”

Mr. Kesse cocked his head to the side. “Strahnroc is for seasonal blessings, is it not?”

Beks shook her head. “It may be for something more. When we were there, Iris Elpidah seemed impatient to hold a ceremony, but was told to be patient. If she mentioned it there, the ceremony may be there. Pilgrims can’t stay for more than a few days at the pilgrimage site, but a cycling set of a eyes will do the job.”

Mr. Kesse nodded once more. “I will also have people stationed on the routes leading to it, Your Highness. If there is an unexpected change, I will contact you at once.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kesse.” The call ended and Beks leaned back against the chair, tilting her head back and taking a deep breath. Every time the Temple did something, she couldn’t help but feel it was suspicious.

Beks sat up and glanced at the bag next to her urapearl. She reached forward and dug through her bag to take out the small notebook she’d found hidden in the secret compartment under the bed in the Hall of Eloquence.

She’d managed to roughly translate over half the book, but there were more than a handful of places where she’d had to circle the word, as it didn’t seem to fit into the sentence. She assumed these words had different meanings to what she knew them as. More time was spent trying to narrow down what those words meant than actually translating the book into something that made sense.

She turned to the first few pages, which read like a story following a girl born in the border grasslands of Paraxes, which was far less populated than the coast and its islands. Beks never paid attention to such a region. The girl came from a farming family and lived in a fertile area that used to have a lot of floods, but dams were built to control it.

She was the oldest daughter with seven younger brothers and sisters. The family was extremely poor, as Paraxes allowed for all inherited land to be split amongst all heirs, resulting in smaller and smaller plots of farming for each generation. Even if Paraxes only allowed boys to inherit land, the more male heirs a family had, the smaller their inheritance land. It was mentioned as unfair, as the other territories didn’t have to abide by such a law.

The girl’s father came from a family with many sons, who were the sons of a father who had many brothers. A once sizeable plot of land had become a sliver in three generations.

The girl’s family was struggling to survive, and when the girl’s mother was pregnant with her fifth child, the eldest daughter was sent to the Temple for both food, shelter, and a small stipend to be sent to her family.

“Is that something that Temple does?” Beks had asked Sister Levina.

Sister Levina had shaken her head, but wrote, “The Temple only takes in orphans, with no stipends, but families with money can send a daughter. Or families with beautiful children.” Sister Levina had rolled her eyes and sneered. “I’ve heard this done recently, because if the children are beautiful, they will become beautiful ambassadors for the Temple.”

Beauty sold even in religion, Beks summarized.

The notebook didn’t mention anything about the girl’s looks, but the stipend could’ve been seen as a way to lure good-looking young people into the Temple.

Sister Levina also noted that since there were so many orphans and patrons, the Temple didn’t need to use incentives to get clergy to join. Being part of the Temple was the incentive.

Which led Beks to the question why the girl in the story seemed to go through a process that was well practiced and unquestioned.

“Beks, are you done with your call?” Lucian’s voice came from outside the tent. Beks moved her hand to deactivate the leviathan scale.

“Yes, I’m finished.” The flap of the battalion tent they were borrowing swung open and Lucian walked in.

“Did you get any answers to your questions?” he asked.

Beks shook her head. “If anything, there are more questions. The expedition the Temple is funding to find the jaw of St. Cyric that started at the Great Temple Complex may have been a decoy.”

“Why would they need a decoy? Finding a relic is an incredible accomplishment. I would think that they’d have fanfare wherever the expedition went,” Lucian said as he began to roll out the sleeping mats. He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “Unless they don’t want anyone to know they actually found the relic.”

“So, the heart of St. Ingrid is a secret, the jaw of St. Cyric is a secret, and the two that were on display at their shrines have been put into storage for ‘safety’ concerns. They’re collecting the Muil Stones for something.”

“At first, I thought the Muil Stones had a symbolic meaning, but after hearing High Priest Jung, I can’t shake the feeling that there is something more they do than provide symbolic significance.”

“Good. Hearing you say that means I’m likely not losing my mind,” Beks said as she crossed her legs. “I initially wanted to follow the expedition searching for the jaw of St. Cyric, but now, it may be useless to do so. All we can do is wait until they actually find it and return.”

“To the Great Temple Complex?”

“Or Strahnroc.”

Lucian tilted his head to the side and gave her a curious look. “You think something is suspicious about Strahnroc, too.”

“Which one of us who was hiding there the other day didn’t?” Beks said, almost throwing her arms in the air. “The obscure ceremony that is kept secret from the public, a human sacrificial stone that is still used despite the Temple’s ban on human sacrifice, and now the Muil Stones and whatever they have to do with Iris Elpidah.”

“The sacrificial stone did have spaces for the original owners of those Muil Stones,” Lucian replied. He nodded slowly. “Your guess on Strahnroc is correct.”

Beks ran a hand down her face. “In addition, the bihar there is rich. Extraordinarily rich, it’s almost as if I was in the Forbidden Valley. Bihar is energy and the thicker it is, the more it carries.”

Lucian spread out the blanket. “Carries, as in energy?”

“Yes, but not just other bihar or biha,” Beks said. She leaned forward. “The Grand Duke of Aceria, I mean, Governor Mahin, told me that bihar rich places carry traces of energy of the past, present, and future. In Gah-ruhn, such particularly bihar rich places were sacred. They were places of ritual and meditation.”

“And Strahnroc is like that?”

Beks nodded. She narrowed her eyes as her shoulders relaxed. “Lucian, do you remember when I woke up after sleeping in the hillside and asked if we were alone?”

Lucian’s head snapped up from where he was puffing pillows. “Yes! We are alone now-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” She gave him a deadpan expression and he let out a low, disappointed huff. He lazily continued preparing their sleep mat. “I asked if we were alone because I heard voices.”

“Then, you did hear us.”

“No, it wasn’t you, Gerard, or Rid Callan,” Beks told him . “They were women’s voices. Sister Levina is the only other woman there and she doesn’t speak.” Sister Levina spoke, but it was gruff and difficult to understand without her tongue. She had once written that she sounded like an old man who was choking, so she preferred to write.

Lucian rose to his feet and met her eyes as he unbuttoned his outer shirt. “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”

“It was a dream, but it was just voices,” Beks said. She slumped against the back of the chair. “I’ve never had a dream like that.”

“Perhaps it is unique to Inheritors.”

Beks narrowed her eyes. “I recall reading that Inheritors had divine intuition, but it has to come from somewhere. Perhaps they sense things in the environment that normal people cannot?”

Lucian carefully folded his clothes. “I can believe that. You notice things many of us don’t and are able to make connections and theories faster than anyone else, as if you’re able to piece together a puzzle quickly,” he said. He turned around to look at her. “It’s getting late, and we had flown almost non-stop from the Strahnroc. You should rest-”

“Hello, Governor Mahin.”

“Good evening, Your Highness Inheritor!” The former Grand Duke’s cheerful old voice replied from the urapearl, stopping Lucian from coaxing her to bed. He sighed and fell back on to the mats, ignored by his wife.

“Governor, I had some questions on bihar and thought I’d ask you if there is anything that you may now passed down from Gah-ruhn,” Beks said.

Governor Mahin’s eyes lit up. He nodded, full of enthusiasm at the prospect of answering her question. “I will tell you whatever I know, Inheritor.”

Beks nodded, not minding the title from her own people. At the Gilded Palace, he referred to her as ‘Your Highness’, but in person, he would simply call her Inheritor.

“You said before the bihar rich places can carry the energy of the past, present, and future. How does this manifest?” Beks had tried to figure out how to say it and this was the best, least crazy way she knew how.

Governor Mahin thought for a moment. “I have heard of stories where there would be visions, voices, a fleeting foreign energy that only those sensitive to it can see, hear, or feel,” he replied. “We still hold such things sacred in Aceria. Sejehala, we call them. Sacred messages.”

“Sacred messages?” Beks repeated.

“It is believed in Aceria that under times of great duress, one can meditate or rest and hope to hear the voices of the ancestors, or the spirits, to guide us,” Governor Mahin told her. He paused and gave her a curious look. “Did you perhaps have a dream or hear the voices in the air?”

“Voices in the air?” Beks asked.

Governor Mahin nodded. “Dreams are the most common, but sometimes, we will hear voices just as we rest, according to my family’s belief.” He sighed with disappointment. “Although, there is no such place in Aceria that is bihar-rich enough to do so now. Anyone who has had such an experience was elsewhere.”

Beks lowered her eyes, her mind racing. “The voices...they are from ancestors or spirits?”

“It is also possible that they are remnants of the past in that location,” Governor Mahin told her. “The owner of the voice may have had a lot of biha and released it, allowing it and their last memories to linger in a location. There is a legend about that in Gah-ruhn that is told in Aceria. It is about how an Inheritor solved a murder case by listening.”

Beks felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand as she sat up stiffly in her seat. “A murder case?”

“Yes, a victim didn’t want their murderer to go unpunished, so upon their death, the biha user released all their biha along with the memory of their last moments, hoping that someone would feel the anger and resentment in the area and find out who killed them,” the Governor told her. “Years later, an Inheritor would find the location. All of Gah-ruhn was bihar rich, so the Inheritor sensed it in the air. They fell asleep and had a dream of what happened in that area. The murderer was already an old man, but they punished him.”

Beks nodded. “How long do those dreams or voices last?”

“I haven’t a clue, Inheritor. It likely depends on how sensitive you are and how strong the lingering biha is.”

Beks nodded her head once more. “And can this be experienced by anyone?”

“In theory, yes, but all the legends are about Inheritors,” Governor Mahin replied. “After all, you are the one with divine intuition fed by divine sensitivity.” He chuckled. “Inheritor, have you had a sejehala?”

“Perhaps,” Beks answered, truthfully.

“It isn’t anything strange, if you think about it,” Governor Mahin told her, as if noticing her disbelief. “An Inheritor is connected to all the bihar around them. Like a scent triggers a memory, the energy in the air will give you a reaction. It is ultimately up to the individual whether or not to listen to what they experience, but it is our belief that if it was shown to you, there is a reason it was.”

It was somewhat mysterious, but Beks nodded. She thanked him for his time and ended the call.

“Is it frightening?” Lucian asked behind her.

From her seat, Beks nodded her head. “A bit overwhelming.”

He moved across the room and knelt down beside her. “Do you want to tell me what you heard?” he asked softly.

Beks turned towards him and nodded her head.

“There were two women,” she told him. “They seemed to be arguing. One of them sounded upset with the second one. The second one was in love with a man and the first one didn’t agree, going as far as to threaten to kill the man the second one was in love with. Then the voices were lost and the only thing I heard next was the first one telling the second to wake up.” She paused and pursed her lips. “Then again, that could’ve overlapped with you when you woke me up.”

Lucian didn’t look at her as if her ‘dream’ was insane. Rather, he seemed to seriously consider what it meant. He looked down, his own lips pulled into a tight light.

“It couldn’t have been recently...only ceremonies happen at Strahnroc.”

“The mountain is older than the ceremony, Lucian.”

“Well, I know, but how old can that vision be?” he told her, raising his eyes to meet hers. “Even if the location was once a place for human sacrifice, such a conversation would be out of place in such a situation, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think Governor Mahin knows how old a sejehala can be,” she said to her husband.

“And your intuition tells you it is a sejehala?”

“It makes the most sense considering the circumstances, as crazy as that sounds,” Beks told him, squeezing his hands. “Of course, the last thing I need right now are more questions about something irrelevant.”

Lucian shook his head slightly. “Perhaps it’s not irrelevant.” This time, she gave him a questioning look. He stood up and pulled her to her feet. “Can you tell me what you heard word for word?”

She didn’t think that would change anything, but she recited what she heard, even going as far as to change how high or how low her voice was depending on the character speaking. She tried her best to imitate the intensity, finally ending with a begging ‘wake up’.

Beks looked back at Lucian to see if he could figure anything out from what she heard. Lucian’s eyes were crinkled up. His lips were tight, and he seemed to be thinking.

“Lucian?”

He lifted his head. “I think we need to tell Sister Levina.”

He turned to leave, but Beks didn’t let go of his hand. “Wait.”

“What is it?”

“Put your clothes on.”

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

“What do you think?” Beks sat on the bed mat on the floor with Sister Levina seated on her chair, her brows knit, and her expression concentrated. Beside Beks was Lucian, in his pants and tunic, also looking at Sister Levina with some expectation.

Sister Levina chewed her lower lip for a moment before reaching for her slate. Without the luxury of paper and ink, Beks had a damp rag prepared for her to make it easier.

“It is likely to have happened before it became Strahnroc.” That was, before it was considered a holy place.

“So, before St. Myriagnus killed herself there.”

Sister Levina shook her head, erased her slate, and continued to write. “St. Myriagnus already considered it a sacred spot.” She paused. “Someone else died there.”

“Another holy person, perhaps?” Lucian asked.

Sister Levina hesitated in the midst of wiping her slate. She took a deep breath and spent some time writing. She turned her slate around and handed it to Beks. Her writing was smaller to try and fit in as much as possible.

“The name of the man the second woman loved is Cormac, like the saint. The six varied in ages, with St. Ingrid being the youngest and St. Cyric being the eldest. The one closest in age to St. Ingrid was St. Cormac. Early records hint that he converted for her because he was in love with her.”

Beks brows rose as she read the reply. “That’s unexpected. I didn’t know he could do that.”

“Did you think saints can’t fall in love?” Lucian asked with a slight chuckle.

“I assumed that their devotion to the Temple was fulfilling enough.”

Sister Levina chuckled and wrote on her slate. “You can’t choose who you fall in love with.”

“Ah....” Beks grinned. “It seems you miss Jonas?”

Sister Levina’s face flushed. She quickly scribbled something else. “You miss Prince Laz!”

“Of course, I miss him. He’s my husband and I’ve grown accustomed to two people beside me,” Beks replied, unabashed. Sister Levina gave her a dull look. She sighed and wiped her slate clean, pretending she didn’t hear Beks’ reply.

“St. Myriagnus was very protective of St. Ingrid. She did not like men around St. Ingrid,” Sister Levina wrote.

Beks drew her head back, the joking grin on her lips receding. “Wait a moment....”

Sister Levina wrote on the back of her slate and flipped it around. “The death location of a saint is also considered a sacred place.”

“St. Ingrid died on Strahnroc first, then St. Myriagnus killed herself there. The first saint to die and the last of the six,” Beks said.

Sister Levina flipped the slate again. “Do you know how St. Cormac died?”

“Violence in an area where he was proselytizing,” Lucian replied.

Sister Levina pointed to his sword leaning against another chair and then made a motion across her neck. Beks frowned. “They sliced his throat?” The older woman nodded.

“They must’ve gotten in close to be able to do that-”

“No, no,” Beks said. She’d studied that civilization with Laurence. “St. Cormac died in an area where the main fighting forces were chariots. Arrows or a spear, but it’s strange that they would’ve gotten close enough to have his throat cut. And he had an entourage to protect him, didn’t he?”

Sister Levina wrote once more. “There are few that would’ve been close enough to kill him. His guards. His peers.”

Beks sat up straight. “You think St. Myriagnus killed St. Cormac?”

Sister Levina nodded and replied. “The voice was angry that he touched the second voice. Touched with what? Hand.”

Beks gave her a strange look, subconsciously cupping her right hand with her left. “Sister Levina, these are saints, not one of those dramas Jonas took you to see in the city or one of Sister Eleanor’s romance novels.”

Sister Levina scrunched her face. “Saints were people, too!”

“But to insinuate that St. Myriagnus killed St. Cormac because he was having some affair with St. Ingrid is a bit hard to believe,” Beks reasoned. “Even if she was angry with him, he was a saint; one of their own. She wouldn’t have killed him. St. Ingrid wouldn’t let her.”

Lucian knit his brows. “But at that point, St. Ingrid was already dead. She fell off the cliff.”

“Or St. Myriagnus and her got into that argument I heard when I fell asleep, inadvertently causing St. Ingrid to fall off the cliff, killing her.”

Beks snapped her mouth shut as soon as she spoke. Initially, it started out as a dark joke, but now that it had been spoken aloud, it seemed like an actual, plausible thing to have happened.

The room was quiet for a moment. Sister Levina swallowed hard. She wrote a few lines on her slate. “St. Myriagnus was known for having a temper and being impulsive.”

Lucian shook his head. “But to kill the saint she revered so much?”

“Accidentally kill,” Beks corrected him. She took a deep breath. “Now, I’m convinced that that whatever ceremony with the Muil Stones needs to be done will be done at Strahnroc.” It was a good idea to have Nexus watch it.

Lucian frowned. “Does that mean we need to wait nearby to intercept them?”

Beks frowned, as well. They still had many things to do in Kadmium, she still wanted to go to Gurani, and she didn’t know how long it would take for the Temple’s expedition to find St. Cyric’s jaw and bring it to Strahnroc.

Sitting nearby and waiting was a waste of time, but if they left, they could miss intercepting the ceremony. She supposed she could always have people watching, but they couldn’t just station an army at the base of the mountain in a show of aggression.

Sister Levina held up her slate and Beks turned to look at it. She squinted. “You want to go to Paraxes?”

Sister Levina nodded. She flipped over her slate. “The second oldest Temple library is in its capital. The Great Library of St. Geogiere.”

Beks took a deep breath. Lucian nodded. “St. Geogiere was a warrior, but she collected a lot of religious texts compiled by the other saints. They are said to be housed at her library built in her honor.”

“What about the Muil Stones and Iris Elpidah’s suspicious ceremony that may or may not involve human sacrifice?” Beks asked.

“We can have the cavalry on standby near-by, and have them act as pilgrims around the area,” Lucian said. “They will, at the very least, be able to delay anything.”

Beks nodded. She opened her mouth to agree when the urapearl behind Sister Levina began to glow. Beks craned her neck and then stood up. She wasn’t expecting a call. Sister Levina rose from her seat to give Beks a place to sit.

Sister Levina motioned towards the exit and Beks nodded, giving Lucian a motion to see her out. As they headed towards the door, Beks answered.

Laurence’s face appeared almost annoyingly energetic, though for some reason, one hand was covering his eyes. Beks squinted.

“Brother, what are you doing?”

“Just...avoiding awkwardness,” he replied. “Is Lucian dressed?”

Beks rolled her eyes and Lucian, from the entrance, glanced back and scowled. “I’m dressed!”

“He’s dressed, Brother,” Beks replied. Laurence waited a moment before lowering his hand. “Good evening, Brother. Why are you calling so late? Didn’t Laz already tell you we arrived at the battalion camp?”

“He did, but this isn’t about him,” Laurence said with a dismissive wave. He lifted up a small stack of papers excitedly. “I’ve finished translating the half of the notebook you gave me!” He almost waved it in front of the urapearl, as if asking for praise.

Beks didn’t restrain herself. “You already finished? It’s only been a few days.”

He opened his mouth, but Eleanor’s voice could be heard behind him. “Once he started translating, he lost track of time. If Chamberlain Wilton didn’t come to remind him to work, he would’ve finished translating faster!”

Laurence flushed and chuckled, sheepish. “Ellie, I wasn’t that bad-”

“You haven’t slept with me for three nights!”

Beks and Lucian both crinkled their eyes and seemed to avoid eye contact with the image of Laurence in the urapearl. Beks let out a small cough. “Brother, it seems you are busy-”

“No, no! Let him speak!” Eleanor’s irritated face filled the urapearl. “If he doesn’t tell you now, he’ll never get to sleep!”

Beks took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Then, let’s proceed,” she said. “Brother, how did you translate some of the words?”

“I noted the ones you said didn’t seem to make sense with what their placement in a sentence was. I had that sent around to various contacts of my own to find what those words could mean, idioms, slang, and so forth. I did the same with the words I couldn’t place as well.” The King of Kadmus looked more pleased with himself than when he was crowned. “You were right in that it’s a story of a girl, but it’s quite sad.”

“He was crying when he translated part of it!” Eleanor’s voice shouted.

“You were crying, too.”

“It was sad!” Eleanor reappeared on the urapearl. “Beks, this poor girl...she gave her life to the Temple, but couldn’t leave until she finished her studies as a priestess. When she finally was able to leave and visit her family, the entire valley had been washed away in a flood.”

Beks frowned. “In my half of the notebook, the valley had dams to lessen the chances of a flood.”

“The dam broke,” Laurence replied. “She said she would do anything to go back and change it. Then, she wrote of how she could only count on the goddess Xeria and prayed to her.”

“And then what?” Lucian asked.

“Then....we have to look for a book.”

Beks linked. “A book?”

“A sequel,” Laurence replied.

Beks stared at the urapearl. “Brother, you’re not making any sense.”

Laurence sighed and waved the papers in the air once more. “The last Great Oracle said that she will go on a journey to plead with the goddess Xeria for rebirth. Then that last page you gave me said to look for the sequel.”

“Are you serious?” Beks asked.

“This is a waste of time.” Lucian frowned. “Beks spent so long looking for notes from the last Great Oracle and managed to find that notebook. Now, her little novella demands us to search for a sequel? What more could a sequel have?”

“How and if she was able to gain favor from the goddess Xeria. It will also answer the question of if she was able to save her family,” Eleanor replied. “That is the dilemma in the story, isn’t it? Her choices lead to the death of her family, so she hopes to go back to make different decisions.”

Beks narrowed her eyes. “How did her choices lead to the death of her family? She left so there would be more resources left for them and a stipend from the Temple. What does that have to do with the dam breaking and flooding the farm where they live?”

“The Temple caused the dam to break,” Laurence replied. “Water needed to be released to ease the pressure, but there was a ceremony behind it. The Temple continued to postpone the ceremony and the pressure became too much.”

“The Temple should not have that much power to influence the delaying of a safety measure,” Beks said with a frown.

“Yes, we know that, but the Temple exercises its influence when it can. We’ve already seen that despite them claiming they don’t get involved in politics and government, they have subtle ways to influence it,” Laurence told her. “That aside, I’ve had Laz go to the Hall of Eloquence to pull any books of similar binding, unmarked spines, and the like to look over. I believe the late Great Oracle hid the sequel in the Hall of Eloquence, as well.”

“I don’t understand why she didn’t keep the two books together,” Beks said.

“Perhaps she didn’t want her final treasure hunt to be so boring or end too quickly.”

“Brother, I know you think this is fun, but we have a serious matter on our hands,” Beks replied with a deadpan look. “Didn’t Laz brief you?”

“He did. And speaking of Laz, when are you coming home?” he asked. “He’s restless.”

“Laz isn’t a wild animal, Brother,” Lucian replied with a chuckle.

“You forget how he is without you or your wife,” Laurence retorted, narrowing his eyes. “It was always Laz with the most reckless ideas as a child.” He paused and seemed to glare at Lucian. “And you were the one who only made them more reckless.”

“Brother, we may have to go to Paraxes with Sister Levina,” Beks said. “Or at least arrange for her to go before we leave. We also need to keep watch over Strahnroc, as we suspect that woman will do something that will negatively impact us in that location.”

Laurence frowned at this. “I will have Laz send Jonas with Sister Levina as soon as Elder Arash arrives.”

Beks drew her head back. “Why is Elder Arash coming?”

“She wants to see you. She says there is something important that the Inheritor must know,” Laurence replied. “She is coming with some guards and one of the adult rokhs.”

“Then, I really should return to Kadmium....” Beks trailed off. “Can’t it be discussed by urapearl?”

“You will need to speak to her in person,” Laurence told her. “If you want, I can send her directly to your location once they are able to pick up Jonas.”

“Then, we’ll remain here and wait for them,” Beks replied.

Laurence read a few more excerpts from the notebook, with Beks furrowing her brow and nodding. She didn’t ask any more questions, just listened until Laurence was pulled away by Eleanor to rest.

“You’re still thinking about the notebook,” Lucian said as he pulled the blanket over her. “Still so obsessed with ancient civilizations. You really are more Brother’s sister than we are his brothers.”

Beks rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle elbow. “The notebook mentioned a lot about what was happening in the Temple, but didn’t some of those cases sound strange to you?”

Lucian sank into the bed mat beside her and furrowed his brows. “I have to admit, it’s strange that they would need to lure people into the clergy. The Temple has always been popular and influential. Why would they be lacking clergy?”

“They spoke of old temples, cathedrals, and churches,” Beks said. “And there was a note about how they were performing religious ceremonies for money. Is the Temple in the story lacking money?”

“If they lacked money and were using ceremonies to earn them, why didn’t they release the pressure of the dam when they should’ve?”

Beks raised a brow and rolled over to look at him. “It sounds almost calculated, doesn’t it?”

Lucian frowned. “They’d hold back their blessings and flood a valley and kill all those farmers?”

“Or the flooding was an unexpected byproduct of extortion. We’ll never know,” Beks said. “The Temple in the notebook isn’t written as gloriously as I thought it would be written by an oracle.”

“If the Temple’s refusal to do a blessing inadvertently killed your family, wouldn’t you hold some bitterness?”

“The Temple supporting Iris Elpidah inadvertently nearly killed my family. Bitterness is an understatement.”

Lucian let out a small hiss. “That’s true.”

“Tomorrow, try to contact the cavalry and give the assignment. We’ll be here a few more days until Jonas and Elder Arash arrive,” Beks said as she scooted closer to him.

He wrapped his arms around her and nodded. “This is the only thing we can do until we figure out what Iris Elpidah is doing.”

Beks took a deep breath. “Perhaps she’s doing what the girl in the notebook is doing.”

“Joining the Temple to survive?”

“Seeking rebirth from the goddess Xeria.”

Lucian sighed. “That’s not how it works.”

“We are not divine, Lucian. We don’t know how it works,” Beks told him. “She is the goddess of order and rebirth, isn’t she? Order through death, destruction, and then rebirth.”

“Yes....”

“But in all I’ve read about her, in all I’ve been told about her, it is never made clear when the rebirth happens.”

Lucian drew his head back a bit and opened his eyes. “It’s in reference to the next life.”

Beks shook her head. “We presume it is in reference to the next life,” Beks told him. “But the girl in the notebook wanted to seek help through rebirth so she could make different decisions. Rebirth then becomes born again, in the same body, in the same life, with the goal of changing the future.”