A Prisoner's Surprise

The Inquisitorial carriage clattered along the white stone streets of the Holy Capital. Maria remained isolated within, but past the curtained glass, the city’s sprawling majesty was impossible to miss. Her widened amber eyes lingered at the sight while she tried to ignore the dark silver cuffs that stung her wrists.

The Holy Capital of Elyra. The place was truly worthy of harboring the name of the great goddess. It was everything Maria had imagined when Mother Martha used to tell stories of it by the chapel hearth.

Two great, imposing landmarks that dominated the horizon defined the realm's spiritual and political heart. To the west stood the Royal Citadel—the seat of the Crown—a sprawling fortress-district surrounded by thick stone walls. Royal-blue banners lined the edges, adorned with the King's golden crest.

Rising far above the rest of the city, however, was the Grand Cathedral in the Cathedral Precinct. The seat of the church housed a monumental religious complex whose ivory spires and soaring bell towers filled the skyline. At the center of the Grand Cathedral, the Holy Tower shot up into the heavens. Standing as one of the tallest landmarks on the entire continent, it was the closest men could ever hope to reaching the gods.

Maria winced as a sharp pain shot up her arm. She wished instead that things had played out differently; that she could’ve been walking calmly through the bustling streets taking in all the sights and sounds along with her companions. Getting a taste of the Holy Capital’s delicacies.

She could picture it: Celeste leading the group while gushing about heroic prestige. Kaelan’s futile attempts to get her to settle. And maybe Thomas would even finally sell the entire pack of dragonscale. His shoulders would’ve thanked him for it.

Maria chuckled.

But looking down the pulsing miasmic-veins running up her forearms made her face reality. She didn't fight the cuffs, choosing instead to simply sit back against the velvet bench and watch the passing city streets.

Her thoughts remained on her companions. “I hope they’re okay…”

Surrounding the carriage was the squad of Inquisitorial guards clad in their silver armor with burgundy surcoats. As they rode through the streets, crowds parted hastily, and parents pulled their children back and bowed their heads in uneasy silence.

Curious gazes fixed on the veiled passenger within. Maria could make out their words.

“The Inquisitors have returned!”

“...Wait, is that her? The rogue Saint?”

“They truly managed to stop her before she brought ruin to the capital…”

As the carriage crossed the central avenue, it passed near the thick outer walls of the Royal Citadel. Maria peered out. Dozens of guards stood at every gatehouse. When the carriage paused briefly at a security checkpoint near the Citadel gates, Maria tapped gently on the window glass.

An Inquisitor guard standing beside the wheel flinched. His looming figure turned toward her. He held a tense expression.

"Excuse me…" Maria asked, "Is His Majesty the King under arrest?”

"Of... of course not. What a preposterous question!”

Maria almost didn’t recall him from before; she hadn’t realized how young his face looked. He was the same young guard who lingered near the back during the waystation confrontation. She remembered how his hands trembled on his spear when she stepped toward the commander.

“His Majesty remains safely in the Royal Palace…” the young guard continued, “for his own protection.”

"Protection?" Maria tilted her head. "Protection from what?"

She caught a flicker of doubt and hesitation in the young guard’s eyes. He stammered before recomposing himself. He then narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at Maria. Answering her question without a word.

“Me?” Her head remained tilted.

The commander's voice echoed from the front. "Move the line forward! No chatter with the prisoner!"

"Keep up, junior," another Inquisitor guard called back past a chuckle. "Don't let the prisoner get inside your head!"

Maria smiled softly. The young guard flushed and tugged down on his hood before pacing forward past her view.

Grand archways soon gave way to the Cathedral Precinct. Bells chimed in harmony over the bustling streets. White-robed clergy glanced at the passing carriage, while bustling merchants hawked holy relics to any passerby. Their sales calls fought against pilgrims who sang hymns at the edge of the streets, graciously accepting any drop of coin.

Maria had little to spare, but she would’ve dropped them some anyhow if she could.

The carriage finally stopped at the base of the cathedral complex. They escorted her through a broad stone courtyard. Within the vastness of the Grand Cathedral, the central tower that spired into the sky loomed ahead. Maria watched in awe as they traversed winding paths through lush gardens laced with marble statues of ancient saints and divine gods.

A final gentle slope ascended toward the heart of the complex, where a vast stone plaza opened to the top of the foundations. Massive columns of white stone and marble gave further rise to the tower in front.

She craned her neck, glancing up. The tower spired deep into the sky until clouds blurred the tip.

I can’t imagine how many flights of stairs you’d have to take to reach the top…

They’d yet to even cross its massive ivory doors, and yet Maria already found herself winded. But to her surprise, the commander unlocked the darkened silver cuffs from her wrists and removed them.

She took in a breath. Her wrists remained reddened with blisters, but the burning had stopped. Her chest no longer felt heavy.

"High Inquisitor Vane has instructed that you be provided proper accommodations," the commander stated with usual aloofness.

Maria’s mouth parted, but words wouldn’t come out. Was she not a prisoner? Before she could reply, the commander left with a few other Inquisitors.

A pair of guards from inside opened the grand doors, and the young guard and the remaining Inquisitors led her in. A winding, grand staircase of polished white stone took her up a number of floors.

Maria soon faced a heavy oak door.

The young guard opened it. "You will remain in this sanctum until His Excellency is prepared to grant you an audience."

"Thank you," Maria replied. Her eyes remained fixed on him. His eyes drooped, and he wore a heavy expression.

The young guard averted his gaze.

Maria gave him a subtle smile. “Please be sure to get some proper rest tonight.”

He scoffed. “...I’m part of your room rotations…” The young guard left without adding more, leaving another pair stationed at her door.

Maria stepped into the chamber, and her mouth parted slightly.

“This is…”

It was a grand suite; nothing back in the chapel could ever hope to compare. Instead of old wood, white stone carved the walls of the chamber, and beautiful painted murals of mythical figures adorned the high ceilings.

Maria passed by the large bed, running her hand across the smooth silk cover.

The chambers stretched far and wide, from a private washroom with proper plumbing to the far side where an arched window opened outward. It offered a wonderful view of the Royal Citadel and was just high enough to overlook some of the smaller buildings of the Holy Capital.

Looking down, it was a formidable height, but nothing compared to the rest of the towering building above.

Maria basked for a moment in the warmth of the setting sun. She almost chuckled in disbelief. But even though the cuffs were gone, and the burning had ceased, something still felt suffocating, even within such spacious walls.

When she tried to focus her mana, it felt sluggish. 

Just like her eyes had begun to feel, and just like her body soon followed. She flopped onto the bed. 

Putting the subtle unease aside, was she allowed to feel such softness beneath her? Was she allowed to rest her head on a proper pillow and also bask in a renewing sense of hope?

After the confrontation at the waystation and that awful letter from High Inquisitor Vane. After her friends were hurt so badly trying to prevent her from being forced into custody. She didn’t expect such treatment.

…How long… until I meet Vane…?

Maria’s weary body sank into the soft fabric. Her heavy eyes fluttered with warm images of her companions, of her loved ones at the chapel. But deep down, before falling into an uneasy slumber, a hollowness remained; still unsure—afraid—of the answer for what type of man High Inquisitor Vane would end up being.