A Prisoner's Ascent

Maria lay staring at the ceiling above.

Even within the darkness of the chamber, the subtle glow from the wall vent was enough to make out the mural’s mythical figures. But Maria wasn’t completely alone. Pope Adrian Luzialo was in the adjacent room. The carved white stone wall stood between the two, but it wasn’t enough to prevent his voice from muffling through.

She questioned how the High Inquisitor even threw such an influential figure into another gilded cage.

The man responded to her muttering with a kind voice.

“Vane is a patient man, Sister. For decades, he built his authority block by block, like a mason raising a fortress in plain sight.”

“In the village,” she whispered, “when someone is sick or hungry, when something is out of place, people notice right away. How could an entire kingdom not see what he was doing?"

“People want to believe those in righteous standing,” he replied. “Vane claimed he was carrying a burden; there was no doubting his words. Every time an exaggerated threat appeared, or a border dispute flared beyond the Crown’s own handling, or when rumors spread about dangerous, unsanctioned magic, he was there. Alleviating tension while expanding his reach.”

“Perhaps they also turned a blind eye…”

“Through no fault of their own. It’s only human nature.”

Maria could almost picture the Pope’s gentle eyes beyond the wall.

“Vane convinced the clergy that strict order was the only path to salvation,” he continued. “He convinced the King of a looming threat so great that the man holed himself within the impenetrable walls of the Royal Citadel. By the time I finally confronted Vane regarding overreach, he’d convinced everyone, even the people, that without him, chaos would consume the realm.”

"And when you spoke against him... he put you in the dark.”

“The High Inquisitor is a clever man with lifelong experience. He knew better than to publicly defy the Pope’s authority. Such a thing would’ve caused a schism.”

Maria thought of Thomas. “Another with a silver tongue,” she muttered.

But he was nothing like Vane. Even when they first met and he betrayed her trust with cruel lies, his heart was true. She wondered where the ex-court mage found himself now. Did he ever succeed in selling his dragonscales?

“Silver tongue? …Perhaps,” Pope Adrian said. “Under his influence, the Church announced I had entered a holy period of seclusion and prayer. The King was told I was ailing. The story changes depending on who you ask. Regardless, I ended up here, and Vane stepped into the void with growing support throughout the capital.”

Maria stared blankly at the mural. "But... why does everyone obey him?"

There was a silence from the other side of the wall before Pope Adrian spoke again.

"Because he spent a very long time making certain that they believed they should. Through hope, through fear.”

Maria remained silent.

“But know this: even for a clever man like Vane, such power and influence is not absolute. Only the gods’ will is.”

Maria sank into the bed, into the darkness. Another silence lingered longer than the last.

“Sister…?”

She pulled the covers over herself. Why did she even ask about such things? There was no reason to. Knowing all these truths didn’t change the fact that she had to live her days without ever feeling her chapel’s warmth again.

“Rest, Sister,” Pope Adrian said. “Perhaps I can’t bring you the warmth you seek, but even with this wall between us, my voice remains.”

***

The days that followed blurred together into a twilight of exhaustion.

Maria continued her mostly unchanged routine. She would be bound in the burning, miasmic silver cuffs and led deep beneath the Grand Cathedral. There, in the ancient sanctum carved into the bedrock beneath the roots of the city, Vane activated the massive ritual circle. It flared with unnatural sigils and violently sapped the divine mana from her chest.

Still, knowing that at least her power was of some use in hopefully helping others made the pain bearable.

The young guard delivered her trays of food and water as usual, though now she occasionally sipped and nibbled to ease his insistence.

Finally, the days would end in darkness; she never saw the point in lighting the lanterns. Silence under the dark would have been preferable, but Pope Adrian’s light would filter through the vent, along with his words. Sometimes she whispered replies.

They once had a quiet exchange that drifted deep into the night. Pope Adrian reminisced about the visit he paid her in Bellmere village. Now it seemed like a lifetime ago.

He had to see for himself if the rumors of this “Saint” were true, and he was pleasantly surprised that such great power resided within someone with a kind heart.

“We need more of that in this world,” he told Maria through the stone wall.

“Not according to Vane…”

That same night, Maria spoke more than she ever had since arriving.

Painful memories of the warm chapel. Mother Martha. The children. Her companions. But she also shared her favorite meals, and he replied with his own. A subtle smile even crept up her face.

Other nights, Maria disappeared under covers, but Pope Adrian would never push when she did. He’d only whisper to her a kind “Goodnight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

At times, when she lay in the silence, he would ask why he no longer heard the cadence of her soft prayers. She always ignored the ridiculous question. But something compelled her to answer by the third ask.

“If the gods are listening," Maria whispered, "why didn't they help me?"

Pope Adrian didn’t offer empty reassurances.

"I cannot answer for the heavens," he said gently after a moment. "Nor can I explain why righteous people are made to suffer in a broken world. But I know this: it does not change who you are. Even here. Even in the dark. You reach others without even realizing."

His words hung in her mind until her drooping eyes gave way to slumber and to another day where the routine continued.

Until one night, the routine changed for good.

Maria remained motionless on a bed that her body could no longer even acknowledge.

The day’s ritual had been brutal; she questioned if the speck of divine magic that lingered within her chest even remained. But she should’ve also been content. As far as she could hope to be, anyway. Vane informed her it was the final ritual. In other words, she was no longer needed. Her divine power—the only useful thing left—was no longer needed.

Muffled words barely registered through her throbbing head. She struggled to make it out. It was Pope Adrian.

“Are you listening, Sister?” he said. "You have been too quiet since they brought you back."

“I’m here,” she whispered. “Somehow.”

“...Your divine presence. It’s weakened.”

“You can tell?” Maria snickered. “Perhaps the gods have taken it away for good. My magic was the only thing I had left to give… But I’m glad it’s gone. Such a gift was wasted on me.”

“A person’s essence—what brings forth their mana. It can be contained and reduced, but not erased,” Pope Adrian said. “Not by anything in this world.”

“Then, by the gods—”

“If the gods truly willed it, perhaps. Yet, an ember remains within you. Even past stone walls that constrict your essence, I can still tell.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Maria muttered. “That was the last harvest. I’m of no use, not even to Vane, and less so to those he claims to want to help.”

“Sister Maria… I have known the High Inquisitor for a long time. He always swore by, at least in my eyes, a faulty view to achieve a greater good. ‘The end justifies the means.’ But as decades passed… even with such ideals, I could no longer recognize the man who claimed to be High Inquisitor Vane.”

Maria remained silent. But this time, even through a wall, Pope Adrian’s voice came thick and clear.

“Do not trust the man wearing that face.”

“I’ve long stopped trusting Vane. I only trusted in the slim hope that my power was still of use to those in need.”

“As would any, but you have much more to offer”

“I clung to that belief,” she said. “But now it seems… even for that I lacked better judgement.”

“I fear such a warning arrived too late,” his voice trailed. “In truth, I doubt such a warning would’ve even changed the course.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Pope Adrian. I’ve disappointed many by carelessly arguing past warnings.”

“Most don’t have the courage to give others a chance at redemption, but you did.”

Maria remained silent, too drained to harbor hope. But Pope Adrian did not relent.

“Listen to me, Maria, even if your last flicker of divine magic would somehow be extinguished, it matters not,” he said. "You think you are useless without your light, but Vane himself feared the truth."

Maria blinked in the darkness.

"I cannot see into the corridor, nor can I see clearly into your room," Pope Adrian continued softly. “But I have spent many days simply listening, and it couldn’t be clearer.”

“...What do you mean?”

“When you first arrived, the guard with the youthful voice. He spoke with a tremble, convinced of the dangerous miracle Vane had warned so much about. Yet, over the last few days, when he brings your fresh water or swaps out your untouched trays... his voice no longer holds fear."

Maria’s breath caught in her throat.

"And the shift guards past our doors," the Pope added, "they no longer boast about guarding a monster. Just this morning I heard them say in hushed tones. 'Did the Sister eat anything last evening?' and 'I pray she can find some form of comfort.' Do you understand, Maria?”

Pope Adrian sighed. But not one of annoyance. It was like the way Maria’s companions would sigh to her. One of relief. You could almost feel the warmth behind it.

"A monster inspires terror, Maria,” he continued. “But a Saint... even stripped of her magic, leaves a warmth behind that no stone wall can contain."

Something pleasant filled her chest. How long had it been since she felt a hint of warmth? Maria's eyes drooped in the moment of comfort.

“...Thank you.”

“Whatever may come, Sister…” Pope Adrian said softly as her breathing slowed. “You must not surrender further to despair. As long as an ember remains, it can light a raging flame.”

***

When morning arrived, the soothing words from the night prior almost seemed like a dream. Maria woke to a violent tremor that shook the very foundations of the Grand Cathedral. Clamoring bells echoed from above and throughout the city.

“Maria!” Pope Adrian called out, peeking through the vent. “Look outside!”

Maria rushed to the tall, arched window.

Just below and beyond the white outer walls of the Cathedral Precinct, plumes of thick black smoke rose into the morning sky. Strange glows she couldn’t make out morphed in the distance, while cries rang out within panicked masses. Harrowing growls came from the streets below, and a trembling roar, through the clouds above.

Maria froze. “Did I…?”

Pope Adrian’s heavy words cut her thoughts.

"Whatever Vane has planned beneath this city has begun, but you cannot carry the blame for his cruelty…They need you, Maria.”

The echoed shouts only grew in intensity.

"B-But… even if I could, I'm locked in." Maria cried out. "My magic is gone—I’m useless inside this room!"

“You believe so?”

She turned to the vent on the wall. Pope Adrian held her gaze with kind eyes.

“Check for yourself,” he said, “and see just what kind of effect such a ‘useless Saint’ has, even on her own enemies.”

Maria reached the door with hesitant steps.

Her eyes widened. It opened effortlessly, and no guard flanked the sides.

“Thank you…” she whispered as the image of the young guard came to her mind.

Pope Adrian strained his voice in a shout. It was just loud enough to reach her ears.

"Go, Maria!" Make for the high floor; one which opens into a grand view of the capital. Vane is a creature of pride—he will surely gaze upon his work from above!"

Maria turned back toward the vent, her amber eyes bright with renewed resolve. "I will come back for you, I promise." Her voice steadied for the first time in weeks.

Even within the dark of the vent, she could feel Pope Adrian’s warmth.

“I know you will. Now go!”

Maria adjusted her veil and left the gilded cage behind.

Her heart raced as tremors shook the grand spiral staircase. She ascended among the distant cries from the Holy Capital, focused on confronting Vane one last time.