The Church Moves

Dr Cyan eyed the screen in front of him intently and scribbled a series of quick notes in a beautiful leather bound notebook that lay on his neatly organised desk. Such was his level of practice and efficiency that he didn't even have to look down towards the paper itself to know that he was writing flawlessly and with impeccable calligraphy. His assistant, Airdre, a young woman with radiant dark hair that cascaded onto her shoulders in delicate curls, her facial features smooth and frozen in a perennial look of disinterest, stood impassively at the threshold of the greenhouse awaiting for her orders. She knew she was not permitted to enter his domain.

Contrary to all indications, Dr Cyan was not a man who felt comfortable inside an office, surrounded by piles of books amassing untold knowledge. He wasn't a scholar who would shut himself inside an ivory tower and contemplate the mysteries and problems brought to him enclosed in a dark chamber, lighted only by a few lamps. He adored open spaces, glowing with natural light, and surrounded by nature. Airdre knew that very well. After years of working under his shadow, following the good doctor wherever the Church sent him, she had come to know the man closely. Some might spitefully say too close. They would be wrong; not once had they intimated beyond casual friendship. That was more than enough for her.

He sat on an oak desk constructed in order to resemble a recently hewed tree, in the very centre of a clearing inside a massive greenhouse. The desk held only the bare minimum appliances allowed under the Church's archaeological remains research division policies: an alembic (that was still brand new) alongside a mortar and pestle, a compendium of array formations as well as customised inscription, and a totem of Tonius to one corner of the desk. The floor was covered in freshly mowed grass, the familiar scent still hanging densely in the air. All around were plants, trees, flowers, ferns and exotic fruit bearing saplings of all sorts that colourfully blossomed and decorated the abode; each one was gorgeous, like it had been hand crafted by genuine masters of sculpting. If one followed a small trail leading through the foliage, hidden just behind the desk, they would come across another, smaller, clearing that held a small number of furnishings which served as the reclusive doctor's only place he felt at ease sleeping. The entire scenery was only spoilt by a single copper wire originating from an unknown point of the glass walls which terminated at the foot of the oak desk and whose purpose only Dr Cyan himself knew.

From the angle she was observing Dr Cyan, Airdre couldn't tell what it was he was studying so avidly, but she could guess it had something to do with the experiment that had taken place inside the tomb and that had concluded a few days earlier. His eyes shone, their brilliance enunciated by the deep bags forming under them betraying his lack of sleep, with a look she knew he only manifested when his passions had been aroused. And his passions were only aroused when a troublesome enigma he couldn't decipher was presented to him.

"Please come here, Airdre." He said without lifting his gaze. The request momentarily caught her by surprise, as she had never been allowed to set a foot past the great glass doors separating the greenhouse from the rest of the institution. "I need a fresh pair of eyes here and your perception, sharp as a knife, has been accurate in the past." He explained nonchalantly, as if he had anticipated her question.

"Wouldn't it be preferable to ask for the help of another, more qualified, colleague?"

"One of those useless oafs? No, Airdre. You may not be formally qualified according to the Church's standards, but you are more reliable and intelligent than the vast majority of the people out there." As was usual, he isolated himself and Airdre from the rest of the Church even in his semantic constructions; despite the fact he was actively involved in almost all the events going on there. Nothing of note happened in the facility without his being aware of it.

Airdre shrugged and moved forward after leaving her shoes on the side, next to Dr Cyan's. The grass felt nice under her feet and she sincerely appreciated the tickling sensation the small blades caused as they caressed her skin. Once inside, she noticed that the aroma of freshly trimmed roses was overwhelming and she had to work hard to repress a feeling of euphoria that began pushing its way up her stomach; she didn't know how Dr Cyan would receive such a reaction. He was as jealous about his garden as a man who'd experienced infidelity was with future partners.

Not wasting too much time to dawdle at the magnificent greenery greeting her with welcoming arms, she trudged towards the back of the desk and looked at the image Dr Cyan was pointing at on the visual array. She first, however, sneaked a glance at the objects meticulously set up on the wooden surface of his desk. She saw hand-written documents in a luxurious cursive that one could have sworn had been produced artificially. They were grouped up in a strikingly well-ordered, yet harmonious, fashion. As was typical, Dr Cyan's preoccupation for tidiness came across as somewhat pedantic, even to her; but she had already grown accustomed to such displays.

"What is it exactly that I'm looking at?" She inquired, aware that beating around the bush would be frowned upon by the doctor.

"This is an image of S-099's face shortly before he was taken by the three Sigma-134's." Explained Dr Cyan, nonchalantly writing off a person's death with a few derogatory technicisms.

Airdre ignored this as she had long grown used to Dr Cyan's lack of empathy and closely inspected the face in front of her. S-099 had hardened features and a look of concealed madness within the whites of his eyes. It was an unpleasant face to look at.

"He seems euphoric, Sir." She said, choosing her words carefully. "Almost as if he's been charmed."

"That is exactly my same conclusion!" Nodded Dr Cyan. "Which, if proven to be true, would indicate that we have been hitherto mistaken regarding eye-contact and its uses in combating Sigma-134."

Airdre fought back the urge to shrug. She wasn't assigned to any tomb exploration efforts and so she was indifferent towards the happenings within it. She did, however, appreciate that the discovery of a charming eye would alter the manner with which the Church's archaeological research division had been approaching breaching the innermost levels of the tomb. Furthermore, she had come to Dr Cyan's office carrying an urgent missive and couldn't afford to spend time discussing hypotheses.

"Sir, there's a message from Dr Murf." After so many years working together, she knew Dr Cyan wouldn't appreciate her beating around the bush and so she turned to the topic at hand.

Dr Cyan's expression darkened. Evidently, he was not a fan of Dr Murf. "Put it alongside the other correspondence and I will look through it when I have the time."

'When I have the time' was Dr Cyan's way of saying he would never get to read it and that he would actively avoid it. Airdre knew, from the manner with which the message had been passed on to her, that the situation warranted immediate action.

"It's urgent." She said as she put the sealed letter in front of Dr Cyan. "Dr Murf sent this under the classification of 'Red'."

"Red?" To this, Dr Cyan's curiosity was piqued. The archaeological remains research division used a custom hierarchy when sending messages and 'Red' stood at the top of it. If he ignored the message, he would be in serious violation of the rules and regulations and, depending on the consequences, he could even be summarily executed and his master could do nothing about it. In fact, his dear master might be the one to wield the executioner blade when the time came.

Without adding or saying anything else, Dr Cyan drew some runic inscriptions on the envelope in front of him to unseal it. He tore it open, pulled out the letter, and devoured its contents within a few seconds.

Suddenly, he rose to his feet, toppling his chair over and very nearly throwing all of the apparel on his desk to the side; his hands were trembling and his expression turned sinister. Airdre was stumped when she saw Dr Cyan's outburst because she had seldom seen him react openly about anything.

"The plan failed..." He said more to himself than to his assistant. "An antidote was found and spread through Groamburk..."

Dr Cyan struck down with his fist, breaking his desk into two with such force that the qi within his hand continued forward and left a cleft on the ground. Airdre was surprised and she jumped back in fright. Then, Dr Cyan raised his head and gave her one simple order: "Leave. Now."

She obliged with a bow and quickly strutted out of the greenhouse.

Dr Cyan didn't even bother to watch her leave; his mind was completely preoccupied with the failure of the poison. If the matter wasn't dealt with swiftly and appropriately, their efforts regarding the tomb's secondary entrance would be delayed indefinitely; a result neither he nor the higher ups in the Church wished to see come to fruition.

'If an antidote was refined, it means Groamburk houses someone capable of thwarting our efforts. Either that or there's a traitor in our midst.' Pondered Dr Cyan. 'Dr Seon? No, he's incredibly loyal to Dr Murf and his expertise is not in the field of poisons; he wouldn't have been able to refine an antidote in less than a month. Someone else...'

He spent a long time revising many possible scenarios and outcomes, pacing up and down his greenhouse and stopping only to smell the various flowers; a small merriment which he found enlightening and cathartic.

After a few hours like that, he sent out an order to be brought a list of all the individuals living within Groamburk as well as their histories. He wanted to find whomever was responsible for the antidote in this manner because, according to his deductions, a refinement expert of such calibre had to be a known person within the city.

The list was brought to him posthaste and he quickly delved into the deep analysis of the potential culprit.

It took him an entire night, but he was soon able to single out two individuals: Jadelere Shepherdson, and Erik Oarson. Both of these were alumni of the top university of the Kingdom and had very nearly been scouted to become part of the archaeological remains research division before they were disgracefully expelled from their faculty. If there was anyone in Groamburk that had the knowledge to refine an antidote, it was one of these two. Furthermore, according to reports, they were both living under the same roof; it was more than plausible that the two of them had joined hands and developed an antidote by combining their efforts.

Dr Cyan smiled sinisterly and sent out a series of orders commanding several agents to ready themselves for travel.

The next day, before dawn broke, a strong contingent of agents and scientists alike left from the tomb and marched towards Groamburk on horseback. They were led by Dr Cyan himself who had deemed it imperative to personally play an active role in what was going to happen in the small rural city.