The Sanctuary and The Sword

A silver-blue, silent flash of light, too quick for any guard to perceive, blinked out from the barracks in the early morning. The Temple of Orivaneia's imposing white marble spires were its target as it soared over the roofs of Frola.

It's target is at the back of the temple, in a private garden with peaceful ponds and well-kept rose bushes.

Seeing people there, the flash of light stopped. There was already Bella, waiting, caring for a white rose with a soft grin, along with many nuns.

In a burst of blue light, the blade transformed as it approached, reshaping into the small human form of Maren.

Her face was smiling, “Bella!!!” She calls happily.

Bella looked up from her rose, her own smile widening. “Good morning, Maren. You seem to be in a particularly good mood. What’s getting you so excited this time?”

Maren positively vibrated with joy. “Anna praised me!” she declared, puffing out her chest with immense pride.

“Did she now?” Bella asked, playing along, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “That’s wonderful. What did she say?”

“She said my reaction time was optimal!” Maren recounted, her voice full of awe as she repeated the words. “And that my defensive maneuver was executed with ninety-eight percent efficiency!”

She was beaming, completely and utterly thrilled by the clinical, performance-review-style compliment.

“That’s excellent, Maren,” Bella said, her voice sincere. “I am proud of you both. Now,” her tone shifted slightly, becoming more focused, “tell me what happened after you left me last night. What did you discover in the mines?”

Bella listened with rapt attention, her mind already piecing together the intelligence from Maren's report. “So the mine's true purpose is a trap...” she began, but before Maren could continue, a deep, respectful voice interrupted them.

“Good morning, Lady Maren.”

Maren jumped behind Bella and looked out with wide eyes, shrieking in terror. A few meters away, a very tall and big figure was holding a flower.

He was a huge, 200-centimeter-tall tiger beastkin, and he was well dressed in a formal tailored suit.

“KYAA! Why is there a tall, muscular, standing-on-two-legs tiger in the garden?!” Maren shrieked, pointing a trembling finger.

Bella just chuckled, “It’s alright, little one. This is Mr. Gaspard. Lady Anna lent him to us to help around the temple while she conducts her own business. He’s been a wonderful help to the nuns since yesterday.”

He let out a low, rumbling sigh. “When I saw the job application from Lord Yarte’s network, it mentioned a readiness for… unconventional assignments since the vampire is unpredictable. I was prepared for many things,” he said, his voice a deep baritone. “But I confess, my new master’s first order being to assist the holy temple was not among my predictions.”

“I don’t mind,” Bella said, "Your strength is a comfort, and your presence is welcome. It does not matter to me that you are a beast kin. After all, we are all under the goddess Orivaneia’s care.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, my lady,” Gaspard nodded, “But is it truly fine, Lady? The reports from last said the corruption will come for the city, yet we are staying here, tending to gardens?”

“It is fine, Mr. Gaspard,” Bella reassured him, her voice taking on the confident, unshakable tone of a true leader. “This temple is sacred ground. The blessing Orivaneia placed upon it millennia ago makes it impervious to the direct spread of Morvanium’s corruption.”

She gestured to the grand, white marble walls around them. “When the time comes, when the outer walls fall and the city is in chaos, this will be the sanctuary. This will be the fortress where everyone will come to protect themselves.”

-ooo-

Zebril started her formal damage assessment, shattering the serene, domestic calm of the early morning in the barracks. Despite the chaos of the night watch reports, one line item really chilled her: Fire in the secondary pantry: Complete loss.  

How on earth didn't I see this earlier? 

The main gate, a full kilometer away, was the target of the Mupo bird attack. There was no cause for a fire here.

Before she could even see it, she could smell the charred grain and smoke.

The pantry door was black. She stepped inside, and her Quartermaster’s heart sank. Sacks of flour were scorched heaps of ash. Barrels of salted meat were ruined, their contents cooked and spoiled.

“Who was on watch here?” she roared to a nearby squire. “Where is Sir Loqwa?!”

The squire pointed a trembling finger towards the back of the ruined pantry. “He… he never reported back after the attack, Captain.”

Zebril navigated the smoldering debris and found him behind a stack of collapsed shelves. Sir Loqwa, a knight known more for his loud mouth and virulent hatred of dark beings than his skill, was dead.

She knelt, her eyes scanning the body with practiced efficiency. The burns were post-mortem. He hadn't died in the fire. He was beheaded.

Then she noticed his right hand, clenched into a tight fist, as if he were holding onto his life. She had to pry the stiff, dead fingers open one by one.

Resting in his palm was a Sun Stone.

It was a small, smooth rock inscribed with holy runes, a ward that blazed with painful light when near a powerful vampire.

It was a coward’s weapon, used by bigots and inquisitors. But he never gets to use it. He is killed instantly by a single, perfect slice.

Zebril looked down at the corpse, then at the Sun Stone in her hand. 

She had promised the child that no one in the barracks would harm her after looking her in the eye.

But what should I do, she wondered with a sickening terror, if we are the ones who need to be protected?

The Sun Stone felt heavy and chilly in Zebril's bag as she clinched her teeth. 

She had to know.

She moved down the corridor, her sturdy war hammer, feeling solid in her hands. Her heart beating as she pushed the door to her room open.

Anna was sleeping in the bed, looking harmless and innocent.

Before she could swing it,

“Stop.”

The voice came softly from the corner. Zebril turned to see a girl in a wide witch's hat leaning casually against the wall, as if she had been there all along.

“Lady Anna is sleeping,” the girl continued, “You’re on her good side. I suggest not doing anything stupid.”