The High Priestess

Saint Zechariah’s Basilica was a world in itself. Upon shutting the massive doors, Atrina had unknowingly claimed sanctuary within the structure’s impossibly high ceilings and incredibly expansive walls. Geez, getting in here would’ve been so much easier with Valerie. The witch froze at the thought of the paladin’s name. Valerie… Shivering at the unexpected recollection of her lost love, the witch turned her attention to the building’s cavernous interior.

Enormous windows let in powerful rays of daylight that reflected off the marble floor, creating a celestial glow. The witch could not help but stare with awe at the baroque religious frescoes that adorned the walls, ceilings, and pillars, more impressed by the paintings’ exquisite craftsmanship than their iconography.

This would all be so magnificent if it didn’t preach intolerance. The sorceress’ eyes wandered down the extensive nave where they rested on a stained glass window. In the window was a spectral depiction of a saint with both his hands over his heart. He covered a bleeding wound, and a painstakingly detailed trickle of blood ran from his heart down to the hem of his pastoral robe.

Glass tears welled in the icon’s artificial eyes, and those eyes cast a doleful gaze on the verdant sorceress. That must hurt like hell, Atrina joked to herself, but a part of her felt accused by the saint’s stare.

Thin wisps of smoke rising from the altar caught Atrina’s attention. The witch looked down and saw a woman kneeling in front of burning incense. Under the bleeding saint, the witch found High Priestess Laçais.

-

The witch approached the High Priestess with great anticipation and unease. This woman can give me the answers I need for the stone, or she can just turn me away for being a witch. She’d better have what I’m looking for, or I won’t know what else to do. Atrina stood at the foot of a small set of steps going up to the altar.

The High Priestess did not turn her back when she spoke, “Service does not begin until much later, child.”

“I’m not here to pray. I’m here for answers.”

The long, flowing ebony and alabaster vestment of the High Priestess swished as she turned gracefully to Atrina. “These grounds are the most sacred in the world, and yet a lone witch is here before me, demanding answers to a question I do not know. The Lord works in mysterious ways, even going so far as to let a nameless heretic openly disrespect me in front of our Founder.”

This is seriously the only person who can help me? The witch raised the captain’s letter in her hand. “No disrespect was intended. My name is Atrina, and I have a letter from Captain Eurielle formally requesting my access to this city’s body of knowledge.”

“Most peculiar. I never dreamed that Eurielle’s faith would falter to the point that she would willingly help a heathen. Alas, I am to deal with this unexpected turn of events as befits a servant of God.” Laçais put her index and middle fingers together and made a flicking motion.

The letter fluttered in Atrina’s hand, and sudden rush of wind pulled the missive out of her grip. Eurielle’s letter drifted through the air towards the High Priestess.

Laçais caught the letter and turned it around, looking for the captain’s seal. The apparently mundane action performed by the High Priestess made Atrina’s heart skip a beat. The witch saw the ashen servant of God in a new light. She didn’t even chant. This priestess is a prodigy!

“The letter seems authentic, but I’ve yet to see if the contents are what you claim them to be,” the High Priestess announced pompously.

“Open the letter and see for yourself.”

“I shall.” Laçais broke the seal and unfolded the letter contained within. Atrina’s heart skipped another beat, for she had not read the letter herself. I’m so screwed if Eurielle wrote something else. I shouldn’t have trusted her. Damn!

The witch’s fear was put to rest when the High Priestess said, “You have come to the right place, Atrina, and you are most fortunate that the captain has spoken so highly of you.”

The sorceress thought she misheard Laçais. “She spoke highly of me? What did she say exactly?”

“That you helped save the people of Josef Parish, which I find hard to believe. Nevertheless, I have sufficient reason to honor her request. Though you do not share our faith, witch, you share our value of life.”

“Ha! No one in the world values life like the Church does, especially the lives of so-called ‘heretics’.” The witch’s words were barbed, and their vindictive delivery cut deep into the High Priestess.

“It is not our fault that you pagans have chosen to live against the truth! Unless I have misunderstood, you need my help. I suggest you watch your tone carefully from now on, witch, or I will have the guards drag you out.”

Atrina bottled up her fury, and she strained out an apology, “...Forgive my rudeness.”

“That’s better. How may I be of service?”

“Eurielle told me that you are the expert on artifacts.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Do you know about artifacts before the time of Saint Zechariah?”

“I’m afraid that I don’t, child. Many of the artifacts in our faith were created when the earth was blessed with his presence, not before. The times predating our founder were chaotic, for humans had lost their connection to God.”

“Are there really no artifacts from the Ancient Times?”

“The Ancient Times don’t exist.”

Nonplussed, Atrina countered, “But, you said there was a time before your founder existed.”

“Indeed, but that era was real. The Ancient Times is a fictitious period in pagan tradition when mythical creatures, god-like in nature, existed alongside man, such as dragons and earth spirits. If such a time existed, then the earth would be far older than ten-thousand years, which is the world’s true age.”

The witch ridiculed, “Oh, sure, because your religion is the only one that’s ‘real’. What, I’m supposed to believe that a single, omnipotent being created this world and the universe, while dragons and earth spirits are just fantasies?”

“You could, if you just opened your eyes to the truth, child.”

“I’m wasting my damn time here. Thanks for nothing,” Atrina snapped as she prepared to leave.

“Wait!” Laçais cried. “I said many artifacts were created when Saint Zechariah lived, but I didn’t say all of them. In the beginning, a few holy objects were put on this planet by the Creator Himself.”

“For what reason? What were they?”

“No one can say for either of those questions. All we know is that the age of man began when individuals touched by God came across those artifacts and used them to birth civilization in His name. It is my belief that those sacred objects still exist, searching for the righteous and noble few to bless this forsaken world once more. If my answers do not satisfy you, it is because you are not telling me everything, Atrina.”

Momentarily, the witch considered showing the High Priestess the stone, but she decided against it. “It’s not like I have anything to hide,” said Atrina as she covered the pouch with her cape, “but you must have a library in this city.”

“That goes without saying. I will have someone escort you there, but not this instant, for I must attend to my ecclesiastical duties. For the time being, I will send you to the House of Saint Methusaleh where you can stay in an apartment.”

“Listen, if I could go straight to reading, I’d be able to find what I need sooner and leave Diosveil. I’m sure that’s more convenient for you, Your Holiness.”

“What makes you think I want you to leave?”

Astonished, the witch struggled to reply. “You want me to stay?”

“For as long as you need to. As you have seen, this city is quite enormous, and your search will take far longer than a day. I also have the strangest feeling that God has brought you here for some reason. Our paths have crossed for a particular purpose, and I am no one to question His grand design. You may be a heretic, Atrina, but even His first chosen ones were not originally of the cloth.”

The witch’s ambivalence towards the High Priestess did not go away, but Atrina felt a little safer knowing that Laçais would help her.

-

The voice of Khyrs echoed in the minds of Shaw and Cassius, “The time approaches for us to finally rid the world of the Church. Complete your preparations, then return to me.”

“What about the witch?” queried Shaw.

“Our plans will proceed, with or without her. If she opposes us, show her no mercy.”