Chapter 1 Christelle: Orientation Day

Chapter 1

Year 821 Month 5

Christelle: Orientation Day

"Espiritu Santo, amen." Another grand sermon from Bishop Aubemont. The room reverberated with the silent agreement of the congregation, their admiration apparent in the nods and smiles they exchanged. Yet, amidst the sea of devoted faces, I was an exception. My thoughts diverged from the rest, for I held reservations about the bishop. Over the years of my servitude, I had encountered many virtuous clergy members, but Aubemont seemed sanctimonious and even deceitful. His green eyes gleamed with ambition, a yearning for power and respect, an ambition unbefitting the sacred halls of the Church.

As the sermon concluded, the followers of the Church approached the bishop, eager to seek answers to their lingering questions. I, too, stood by, patiently waiting as the last of them departed. My presence in this place was not by mere chance, but rather at the command of Cardinal Theon Mcintosh. The Cardinal had entrusted me with a task—to meet with a Velmar named Elleshar and convince him to join my personal team as a legate. Elleshar, an honorary captain of the Crusaders, bore the illustrious reputation of a renowned war hero, having valiantly rescued a patrol of warriors from the clutches of a powerful banshee.

My watchful gaze followed the congregation as they approached the bishop, my hand resting firmly on my flanged mace—an exquisite weapon named Judgment by the Church. Its amber head glinted with a sapphire runestone at the tip, while the pure white steel shaft boasted an amber handguard, with yet another ruby runestone adorning the butt. Crafted by the finest blacksmiths, these weapons were the pride of the paladins, and their power was legendary among all mortal races. Any assassin daring to strike against the bishop would face the full fury of this mighty weapon, and the world would surely pity their folly.

Time passed, and then, an imposing figure entered the sanctum of God. Clad in polished steel plate adorned with a regal blue cloak, the man opened the cathedral doors wide, his eyes taking in the marvels of the colored glass and intricate paintings. Graceful and awe-inspired, he moved with the poise of a true champion. This must be Elleshar Spellweaved—a testament to how fine Velmar warriors were. Inquisitive thinkers with a natural affinity for magic; they were an exceptional breed.

As he sensed my gaze, he walked down the hall with a stride of confidence. Enchantment radiated from every piece of his attire, from the hood that concealed his features to the maille visible through the gaps of his plate. When he pulled down his hood, revealing model-like features, long azure hair flowing over his pointed ears, and eyes matching the hue of his locks, his qualities came to light. His chiseled chin paired well with his towering six-foot frame and his stout physique

"Greetings. My name is Elleshar Spellweaved," the warrior stated, his face adorned with the stern resolve expected from a seasoned soldier. His thousand-mile stare met mine without flinching, an intensity that might unsettle others, but not me. In response to my bow, he returned the gesture, his presence emanating a commanding nobility that caught my attention.

"I am Christelle Ménard, the paladin you were assigned to." Despite his formidable demeanor, Elleshar appeared to be a reasonably young adult amongst his people. Velmar heritage meant longer lives, and his pure bloodline signified nobility, perhaps granting him a thousand years of existence if battle did not take him first. He looked to be barely over a century old.

"Do you know why I requested you?" I inquired, intrigued by the slight raise of his eyebrow that betrayed his curiosity.

"No, madam," Elleshar replied, conveying genuine honor. "To be requested by a Paladin of the Cross is among the greatest privileges."

With a faint smile, I continued, revealing the purpose of his assignment. "You will be working alongside the inquisitors. Occasionally, we may meet in person, but generally, we will communicate through our orbs. Veteran Inquisitor Osei will provide you with assignments for the investigation. Your character, resilience, and loyalty all played a role in your selection to my team, but you specifically were chosen because of your knowledge of Essence as well as your relation with the Sardonians." His modesty mixed with appreciation was evident in his subtle smile.

Overhearing our conversation, Bishop Aubemont interjected with a scoff. I faced him with a stern look, unwavering in my determination. "Careful, Dame," he warned, "you may be anointed, but associating with sorcerers may lead to the loss of your gifts."

With uncompromising conviction, I retorted, "I have served the Lord for over three centuries without forfeiting my blessings. I am prepared for my day of judgment. Can you say the same?" I turned to face Elleshar.

"Pay no mind to him. Anyway, we are investigating the remnants of a cult. I am sure you have heard of the notorious necromancer, Necros?" Elleshar's calm composure shattered, his eyes widening with terror akin to a child waking from a terrible nightmare. His fingers twitched nervously on the hilt of his sword, a telltale sign of his unease. I needed no further confirmation. "Yes, the very same Necros you are thinking of right now. The one who nearly destroyed the Church, conquering this world and many others. We believe, after two dozen years, he may have returned."

Elleshar managed to regain some of his composure. Still, the lingering tremor in his voice and the faint sweat on his brow betrayed his unease. He swallowed hard, the tension palpable in the air. "Why did you not request a stronger magic user to accompany the inquisitors?" he questioned, seeking reassurance. As he spoke, his eyes darted around the room, as if seeking an exit from the impending danger.

I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, my touch firm yet gentle, hoping to ease his apprehension. "Elleshar, you can wield spells of the fifth circle and far surpass the average crusader with your blade skills." My voice carried a reassuring tone, and I met his gaze with tenacious confidence, willing him to find stability in my faith in him. "Your equipment gives you an advantage over the inquisitors, and your feats have impressed the Church's leaders." An authentic smile tugged at the corners of my lips, hoping to offer him a glimmer of encouragement. "We have not forgotten the time you saved your brethren from the banshee in Hultz, or when you bravely slayed the Amarak terrorizing Gray Rock. You are more than capable for this mission, and your specialization in earth magic is a welcome addition to our investigation."

Elleshar's grip on his sword relaxed slightly, and he drew a steadying breath. His eyes met mine, gratitude and determination mingling in their depths. "I had no idea you thought so highly of me, Dame Ménard. I am honored to serve the interests of the Church." Though still apprehensive, his words now conveyed a hint of resolve. "However, what does this have to do with the Sardonians?" he inquired, his brow furrowing in concern.

I nodded, understanding his worries, and continued to explain. My expression softened with empathy as I reached out to him, a reassuring gesture. "You and your team will travel to Azaraj in the Sardoniel desert with Osei, Vescaro, Martin, and Guan." I watched his reaction closely, hoping my words would quell his doubts. "We found evidence that suggests some necromancers there are working to bring back the Lord of Dread through their perverse magic, possibly with the assistance of the Archmagus Z'albor."

Elleshar's eyes widened in disbelief, the weight of the task ahead evident in his features. He clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists momentarily before he forced them to relax. "No, I cannot assist with this. I apologize, Dame, but Z'albor is also an ally of Lord Alterran. Surely there must be some misunderstanding."

"That's exactly why I requested you," I explained, my voice carrying the weight of the grave situation. "The cardinals voted to infiltrate Azaraj and use any means necessary to find and destroy these cultists. I asked the Grand Cardinal for more time to find an adequate emissary to speak with Sultan Jahan and the Archmagus. Since the Church is at war with the Sardonians, you will be a legate responsible for establishing diplomatic relations between the two of us."

Elleshar's brow furrowed with concern as he sought to grasp the complexity of his role in this intricate web of intrigue. His eyes remained locked on mine, searching for clarity in my words. "So what exactly do you want me to do? I cannot lie about my intentions, as their janissaries are trained interrogators, not so different from the inquisitors," he inquired, his curiosity evident in the wrinkled lines of his forehead and his inquisitive gaze directed at me.

"I disapprove of that method anyway," I responded firmly. "Speak truthfully and ask them if they know about this cult. Tell them you are trying to keep the peace between the Church and their people. Since the Sardonians are aware of the alliance between the Velmar and the Church, and they themselves are your allies as well, you will be able to organize meetings with influential people who may have insight into the cult's activities. Ask for assistance even. If they refuse to help, they will be deemed part of the problem."

Elleshar nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging the approach. His dedication to his duty as a noble and a warrior was commendable, and it reflected in the respectful demeanor he maintained while listening to my instructions. "The inquisitors will be undercover as adventurers until they find the cultists," I continued, providing further details. "They will then infiltrate and gather as much information as they can, for this may not be their main base of operation. As one of the Lord's paladins, I cannot assist in the investigation. My reputation would make it too difficult to remain discreet."

His composure restored, Elleshar stood tall, his expression embodying the confidence of a seasoned veteran. "This seems fair. He will cooperate, I am sure. When do we start?" he inquired, eagerness evident in his voice as he was ready to embark on the mission.

"First thing tomorrow. We'll take a walk to our conference room so you can meet the rest of the team," I replied, leading the way. Our footsteps echoed along the polished stone floor, lit by elegant torch sconces that adorned the walls, lending a warm and mysterious glow to the stone hallway. Finely crafted tapestries depicting legendary battles and divine interventions showcased the rich history of the Holy Church.

As we approached the large wooden door, intricately carved with symbols of protection and wisdom, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The grand chamber revealed itself, adorned with exquisite tapestries depicting scenes of valor and devotion. The high-vaulted ceilings soared toward the heavens, and the soft glow of candles and magical orbs bathed the room in an ethereal light. A palpable reverence permeated the air, as if the walls bore witness to countless prayers and sacred oaths.

The sturdy oak tables and chairs, intricately carved with mystical symbols, added an air of mystique to the surroundings, signifying that this was a place where strategy was devised, secrets unveiled, and alliances forged. Within these walls, the weight of the world's destiny rested on the shoulders of those who gathered there.

Stepping inside, we entered a spacious chamber where two men sat at a table, dressed in heavy gray coats and intricate stockman hats—the unmistakable attire of the inquisitors. Their presence exuded authority, and the shadows beneath their hats concealed their faces, adding an air of mystery to their appearance.

Elleshar's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the inquisitors, their identities shrouded in shadow. His gaze spoke of cautious respect, recognizing the formidable force before him.

As Elleshar approached, I introduced him to the inquisitors, Osei and Vescaro. They lifted their heads, revealing the features that lay beneath the shroud. Osei, a seasoned veteran, exuded a commanding aura. The light shone on his ebon skin and short, black hair. His warm embrace and welcoming smile put Elleshar at ease, forging an immediate camaraderie between them.

On the other hand, Vescaro stood stoic and rugged, bearing the mark of a young man who had faced the darkness and emerged unyielding. His pale skin and long, curly blonde hair contrasted with the shadows that lurked in his eyes, hinting at the depth of his experiences and the burdens he carried.

As Elleshar extended his hand, Vescaro's grip was firm and resolute, silently conveying the strength he possessed within. There was a profound sense of maturity in his demeanor, belying his youthful appearance, a testament to the trials he had endured and the wisdom he had gained from them.

His voice, when he spoke, carried a weight that surpassed his years. "Welcome," he said, his words resonating with quiet resolve. "We've been awaiting your arrival."

While the others were still preparing for the journey ahead, I took a moment for myself and made my way to one of the altars in the room. The sacred relics adorned the altar, and the gentle flickering of candlelight added to the solemnity of the space. Nearby, Guan was deep in prayer, her devotion evident in the way she communed with God.

Kneeling a few meters away from Guan, I bowed my head and began my own prayer. The weight of responsibility as the leader of this mission pressed upon me, and I sought guidance and protection for my team. I prayed for the courage to face the challenges that lay ahead, drawing strength from my faith in Christ, the source of our power.

Within the sacred confines of the room, the echo of countless prayers seemed to resonate, connecting us to the devotion of those who had tread this path before. In this hallowed space, I found solace and determination, knowing that anything was possible with God by our side.