A Quiet Before the Sanctuary

THE RUDBECKIA Apothecary was already a symphony of early-morning motion, from fluttering dresses and echoing footsteps to altar bells and murmured prayers. The sisters were all heading to designated prayer chambers scattered throughout the fortress. Most operations were halted during the sermon, and those who had to be on duty were granted a separate service shortly after. A new day was beginning, and somewhere beyond the doors of the main building, the elixirists were assembled shoulder to shoulder. Glassy blue crystal balls hovered above them to connect to the various prayer chambers, ensuring that everyone at the apothecary prayed in the same manner and listened to the same sermon. Within the main building’s prayer chamber, pointed arches rose overhead, their ribbed stonework meeting in shadowed vaults that drew the eye upward, as though the hall itself were encouraging humility. Narrow stained-glass windows lined the walls. They filtered the pale morning light into muted hues of amber, pink, and soft blue that spilled gently across the polished stone floor. Gears—purely ornamental here—were etched into the columns, serving as reminders that even faith moved in measured harmony with time.

At the far end of the hall stood the god-king’s statue. Carved from pale marble veined faintly with gold, the cylindrical figure had a crown sitting atop its inverted trapezoidal head. It was not an idol, nor an object of worship, but a symbol of order, vigilance, and unity. While God-King Dajayatan was prayed to, his likeness was only prayed towards, reminding devotees that divinity guided from beyond, not from carved stone.

The apothecary sisters stood beside one another in long, orderly rows.

Heads bowed.

Hands held before them.

Fingers interlocked, as tradition dictated.

There were a handful of pale yellow dresses in the vast majority of burgundy and white attires, with mixes of red, white, and black trims according to rank.

It formed a quiet tapestry of devotion.

No one knelt. No one spoke.

The only sounds were the faint hiss of incense burning in iron braziers and the slow, unified cadence of breath.

The prayer began not with words, but a bell’s toll that reverberated through the sanctuary.

Then, as one, the sisters spoke. Their voices layered together, soft but resolute, rising and falling like a tide: “May our God-King—the Eternal Sovereign, the Governor of Time, the Steward of Mana, and the Omnipotent Shepherd of Mankind—bear witness. May our hands remain steady and our hearts unclouded. May our craft serve life before all else. And may our God-King protect Chesslandiya from all evils beyond the veil.” After the procedural opening mantras were uttered, one of the sisters at the front in loose purple robes, continued the prayer in measured, deliberate, and inspiring speech.

When Master Rysa’s final words faded, the sisters remained still for several breaths longer.

They honored the stillness for a few minutes to allow personal supplications to be quietly performed.

The chamber was filled with whispered desires, hopes, praises, and confessions.

Silver and light, brown-streaked hair hung to the nape of Master Rysa’s neck. Her transparent black veil still layered elegantly over her hair, despite being out of uniform. She used a long wooden staff to help her walk, regaling the mass for the first time in days. She stood up on the slightly higher platform just beneath the god-king’s statue to address her fellow sistren. She didn’t raise her voice when she spoke and never needed to. “Sisters, before we return to our wards, there are a few matters that must be addressed.”

A subtle shift moved through the hall. Shoulders squared. Attention sharpened.

“First, I must thank Sisters Ayu, Carmen, Charlotte, and Danica for helping me recover—Sister Ayu especially for leading our daily service in my absence.”

The honored four bowed slightly, each donning burgundy dresses—except for Counselor Ayu in pale yellow and black frills.

“Several days ago,” the master continued, her gaze sweeping the chamber. “Rudbeckia Apothecary was tested. We stood against an influx of soul feeders the likes of which this fortress has not witnessed before. And you all protected our lands, our patients, our sisters, and the integrity of this sanctuary.” She paused. All eyes throughout and within the floating crystal balls looked to her. “But we did not do so without loss.” She then gestured with her Rook-marked right hand to the apothecary’s counselor.

The silver-haired second-in-command with caramel skin and crimson eyes made her way forward to stand beside Master Rysa. She unrolled a scroll, and one by one, Sister Ayu read the names of fellow elixirists and florakin who bravely fought and sacrificed their lives to preserve the Rudbeckia Apothecary.

The congregation lowered their heads as the list was read. Others closed their eyes. A few clasped their hands tightly.

Not hurried.

Not embellished.

Each name was given the weight of a life.

When the final name was spoken, Master Rysa stated, “Let us observe a moment of silence,” and lowered her head.

The sanctuary held its breath.

In the heavy quietness lived grief, but also pride. These were not victims remembered in fear, but colleagues honored for standing firm.

When the moment passed, Master Rysa took a deep breath to speak again. “I must thank you and commend you all again for your services following the invasion.” She gripped her staff tightly, preparing herself for the next statement she was compelled to discuss. “Whether or not the Rexordo Voxarion pays us another visit because of my intervention is unclear to me. But no matter what happens, I will bear their criticism in full as this stronghold’s appointed Clocksoath.” She was resolute, her stance unwavering. “I am also pleased to know that arrangements for our fallen are underway. May God-King bless you. With their bodies already being prepared with dignity, we will start sending couriers to their villages and families.” She took a breath before continuing to the second matter on the agenda, one more dire. “Next, I understand the situation in New Warryn has not yet been quelled. I am currently looking into it, but Sister Alicette is requesting assistance. Your Directors will brief you more on the situation.” Master Rysa then made eye contact with a pair of senior elixirists at the front—Henrietta and Chisato. “Now,” she said, straightening, “to our final matter. Some of you may have noticed that Brothers Sirius and Lucien are once again our guests.”

There was no surprise, only interest as the congregation exchanged glances, and listened with perked ears.

Yulia and Zaynab stood beside their director, Skyler, who was a slightly older woman with fair-skin and had cropped, coppery hair.

“From Sisters Henrietta and Chisato, they are not just passing through this time,” Master Rysa informed. “I am still familiarizing myself with the details of their extended stay, but I expect you all to treat them cordially, as always.” She took another deep breath, gripping her staff to help steady herself. “With all important matters covered for now, that will conclude our service. Return to your stations, and keep up the amazing work, dear sisters. May the God-King guide all of your efforts today.”

“And we pray that our efforts satisfy His Will,” everyone responded in unison.

The sanctuary stirred back into motion. Idle talk was reserved for when the elixirists stepped back into the hall, where individual groups were assembling, some with a director amongst them.

Henrietta stretched her shoulders as she stepped into the corridor with Chisato, Yulia, and Zaynab.

The Research Ward’s director wasn’t too far behind when she remarked, “Well, it seems you two have got a big task at hand if you’re bringing it to the master.”

“Yes, Director Skyler,” Henrietta answered. “Whenever it involves Lucien and Sirius, you know it is something big.”

“Indeed. If only I could help you more, but I’ve full faith in my associates.” She glanced at Yulia and Zaynab.

Henrietta and Chisato curtsied in appreciation.

“Thanks for letting them join us, Director,” the latter acknowledged. “I know it was very last minute.”

Skyler waved with her Bishop-marked left hand. “It’s quite alright. Besides, they’re closer to the boys than me, so I know their efforts won’t be lacking.” She curtsied. “I pray for your success.” They returned the gesture as she made her way back to her ward with other elixirists under her authority.