[Actual Play] Engel: Salvation

[SotDX]

Quick introduction to those unfamiliar with Engel!

This is an Actual Play write-up of an ongoing game we currently are running. A little back-story may help you get into the story with less confusion.

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The year is 2652. A terrible plague swept the earth near the end of the 21st century, killing most of the adult population. This disease, commonly referred to as "St. Vitus's Dance" due to the almost dance-like spasms in inflicted as it quickly killed, curiously did not affect anyone under the age of puberty. Children were spared the plague.

At the same time, strange fires starting burning at both ends of the world, melting much of the ice caps. Flood waters rose, and washed away much of the ruined civilization of the few adults left alive and the children struggling to survive. The plague struck two more times, each time roughly thirty years apart. By the time of the last plague much of what had been before had either been killed, forgotten, or washed away.

From this chaos rose a Church led by children. A holy figure arose among them, one who had been chosen by God to lead the survivors of Earth in lives of religious observance. The holy child was a new pope, one that would not age and was the embodiment of God's will. He was renamed Peter the Second, Petrus Secundus, and named the Pontifex Maximus. This theocracy blamed the evil heresies of man in the age before as the cause of the disasters. Burning towers of flame passed through the lands, destroying all in their path. Strange non-moving smoke corridors were left in their wake, making large parts of the world inaccessible to the downtrodden survivors. In response, Himmel, great towers of divine purpose, were erected in seven locales, and Rome became the new core of the new church, rechristened Roma Aeterna ("Eternal Rome").

Heretics and heathen were destroyed by the armies of this new church, leading the way into a glorious future of harmony and worship. When the battles against heretic kings grew dire, the holy child called unto Heaven and the archangels of the Lord responded. Engelic warriors were sent to aid the noble church in its dark time. These warriors appeared to man as but winged children, but they had great powers and mighty arts. The heretics were beaten back.

The Engel did not leave, staying in New Europe to protect the church and its people. It was a good thing, for dark forms arose from within the thick smoke behind the towers of fire. From the Brandlands, were smoke hung unwaveringly, creatures called Dreamseed emerged. These were monstrous demons, beings like giant insects and nightmarish things. The Engel fought them long and hard.


It is the year of our Lord 2652. Long has the Engelitic Church fought against the darkness and dangers of the world. They have suffered. Two Himmel, the tower-havens of the Engel and church, have been destroyed. Of the seven fighting orders of Engel, only five remain. The Infernos still move across the Earth, destroying and leaving their trails of Brandlands. The Dreamseed are ever more cunning and terrible.

The enemy of all the world, the Lord of the Flies, may be winning. What hope is there in such a dark world? There is hope in the hands of Engel.

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That is hardly complete, but kind of a birdseye view of the back-story of the game world. Trust me, there is a LOT left out, but I think after reading that you might be better able to dig the story that follows. I started writing this for an Engel web-site in Germany, but thought others would enjoy it and might like to get a taste of an awesome game and setting.

So, without further word, here starts the story.

Hope you enjoy. Feel free to ask questions.

~SotDX

[SotDX]

(This is the original introduction I wrote for the Actual Play writeup from the German fan-site for Engel)

Introduction

Greetings. I've been Storytelling an Engel game in America for roughly a year and a half, and after much prodding for certain parties I've decided to post some details as to the story our game has created as well as some of the details unique to our game.

Before I get started on this full steam, I want to throw a few disclaimers at you.

1. Our game is based off the English version of Engel published by Sword & Sorcery. Only four books were released in America; there was the corebook, the Pandoramicum, Creatures of the Dreamseed, and the Michaelite Order book. With this limited information I've taken upon myself to fill in a lot of gaps.

2. It is always my way when I Storytell to make the setting my own. I use the game as published as a kind of incredible toolbox and shape the setting and details to meet my own needs. In other words, I often deliberately deviate from the "canonical" setting.

3. Our game is focused around a single character, but a fellowship does exist around that character.

4. Final note - Spoilers. Anything I post that could be considered a spoiler to those who still have a veil of secrecy as to the setting and its truths will be marked as such.

Well, with those out of the way, I'll begin posting shortly. As I said, this will be a kind of brief narrative, more to give the details of what happened than to be entertaining in a novelistic form.

Please feel free to comment or ask questions.

Thanks,

Jeff The "Last" (?) American Engel Storyteller

~SotDX

[SotDX]

Our story started out very innocently. We were going to do a fairly standard Engel game, just to get the feel of the setting. We were coming off a wild Fading Suns game, and weren't sure whether Engel would be the right fit or not. I saw something awesome in the setting, and probably twisted my player's arm just a little.

The principal character is a very young Ramielite named Luriel. She has been kept in the Himmel for several months after her acceptance into Engel society in Roma Aeterna. She is restless, and is already showing the signs of the typical arrogance some Ramielites have. She felt nothing should be off-limits to her hunger for knowledge, and grew frustrated when she was not allowed into certain portions of the Himmel's library.

She was both suprised and excited when she was informed that she was to be sent on a very important mission with a new Fellowship, a mission that had been ordered by the Pontifex himself.

She was told that her old nonnus, Adolphus, was to travel to Vienna (a rebel city ruled by a junklord). She and the fellowship were to protect him on his journey, and see to it that he reached the city safely.

Luriel didn't have many details as to what her new fellowship would be or why they were travelling to a city rulled by an enemy of the church, but any fear was overweighed by excitement.

Before meeting her new fellowship, though, something strange befell young Luriel. Many months before, on the night she spent mediating in Roma before being blessed with the other new Engel by the Pontifex, she had a disturbing vision of an Inferno approaching the Holy City. Tonight, as she stood outside the Prague Himmel on its flight platform watching for the approach of her new fellowship brethren, she saw a strangely garbed Engel approach.

This dark form nearly reached her before she realized it was not an Engel, and only appeared to be one. A single lone Dreamseed that could appear in many ways as an Engel attacked and tried to kill her (or so she thought). She was saved only by the sudden appearence of the Gabrielite who would be in her new Fellowship, Kyriel.

In the shock of the moment, some questions never got asked. Why would an single lone Dreamseed fly so far into the heart of its enemy and try to kill a single Engel? Was there some reason behind this, or merely the vagaries of a mad creature?

[SotDX]

The other members of the Fellowship quickly gathered. They included:

Kyriel (already mentioned): A quiet and tough somewhat stereotypical Gabrielite. She is somewhat older than the other members.

Touriel: The Michaelite of the new fellowship. Not her first fellowship. She is the only one told more of the details regarding their true purpose of their mission.

Mathiel: A friendly Urielite. Very affable and open. Make friends quickly with our main character (Luriel).

Cassiel: A quiet and uncertain Raphaelite. It is his first real mission away from his Himmel, and he is slighly underdeveloped physically. He was consecrated at the same time Luriel was.[He will have problems later in keeping up with the other's flight]

Gathered together, there are almost instant sparks of tension between Luriel and Touriel. Touriel is the leader of the Fellowship, as befits her order, but the arrogance of Luriel has trouble accepting this. Luriel wants to be able to speak her mind and not wait to be asked for her opinion, which does not lead to a warm relationship between the two.

The Fellowship is told a little more of their mission by Touriel, who has obviously been told more than she will say. The city of Vienna and its surronding lands (Austria) are ruled by a powerful Diadoche named Viktor Constance. The rebel Engel Thagiel joined the Urbanis league shortly after the Raguelite Himmel fell, and he lives in Vienna in a supporting role to the city and to its allies through the Urbanis League.

Luriel is suprised to find out her old nonnus, Adolphus, was once a nonnus in the Raguelite Himmel before its destruction, and he had dealings with Thagiel before he went rogue. The purpose of the mission is, as they are told, to get Adolphus there safely so he can either convince this last living Raguelite to either return with him or help him with something (the something is not defined by Touriel).

The twist? Not only is this a rebel Engel, but an OLD one. He has lived well past the age he should have ascended to heaven. He is very strong it is said, and a creature of the Lord of the Flies. He has evil powers, and is called the "betrayer" and the "thrice tempted".

Obviously the Fellowship is concerned of the safety of this mission, and whether it is even plausible that they could reach the city safely. They are told that Adolphus has written to both Constance and Thagiel, and they have been promised safe passage and will be welcomed into the city at Thagiel's request to the Junklord!

Thagiel, it appears, wants to see his old nonnus.

With great misgivings as to what is not being said and frustration with the way she is being treated, Luriel and her fellowship set forth with Adolphus on the long journey over land from Prague to Vienna.

Three Templars and an Armatura named Rythe join them from the Ramielite Himmel.

[SotDX]

Everything seemed well enough on the beginning of the journey. Adolphus was an old man, and his health was somewhat poor, but the journey was slow and even. He rode in a wagon, and the templars and Engel rode on horseback, with some flying ahead at times to watch for signs of trouble.

On more than one occasion arguments arose between Touriel and Luriel concerning details of their mission. Luriel was able to get along with the other members, except Kyriel. She also talked with her nonnus and asked him questions about Thagiel and the fall of the Ragielite Himmel. He would only say a few words on the subjects, and warned her of the dangers they might still face ahead.

Since the there were four armed Templars with Adolphus and they were still in Rammielite lands, the Fellowship flew ahead to scout to the halfway point on the trip, St. Terrels, a Gabrielite Monastery on the border of contested lands with Austria.

This was the first time the Fellowship took to the air together. Luriel was concered for Cassiel, as he had trouble flying as fast as the others.

They reached St Terrels and Touriel left to meet with the Ab of the Monastery, and make arrangements for the passing of Adolphus. Luriel was very curious to see what the Monastery of a different order would appear like, and explored. She startled a young Monach carrying boxes and he dropped his goods in the mud. Luriel took the time to help the Monach, feeling sorry for causing his accident. The Monach introduced himself as Davrus, and thanked her for her kindness. He seemed shy and introverted, but still friendly.

Touriel regarthered the Fellowship and they set forth back north to meet again with the Templars and Adolphus. They had only traveled a short distance before they came across a caravan being attacked by Dreamseed. Strange lethal beetle like creatures swarmed over the merchants and attacked them.

The Fellowship landed and swung into action, their first battle as a team. Touriel issued her battle-commands, trying to direct the group. Luriel had only her dagger and cross-bow, and fought as best she could. Despite the youth of some of the Engel, they all fought bravely and managed to save the remaining merchants.

Luriel overheard from the survivors that the Dreamseed had come out of the clear sky, attacking with a great vengence. The leader of their caravan had been killed. A village was very close to the north named Groten, one that Adolphus would be passing through on his journey.

Luriel also overheard that the now dead leader of the Merchants had spoken to the Monach of Groten as they had met before. There was some dark business in Groten with dead children and evil, which had made the Merchants not stay there to setup camp.

With this knowledge the Engel sent the remaining merchants on to St Terrels, and a decision was made that Luriel and Maethiel were to investigate while the others of the Fellowship would return to make safe Adolphus. If there was a risk of other Dreamseed attacks, they wanted to be with the Templars to defend him.

Luriel and Maethiel were ordered by Touriel to check Groten out, make sure it was safe to take Adolphus through, and then return to the rest of the group.

As Luriel and Maethiel flew to Groten, they had no idea of what they would find in the sleepy village.

[SotDX]

Groten was a beautiful little village surronded by forests and a fair distance from other sites of interest. To the south was only St Terrels before the lands of the Junklord Viktor Constance began. To the north were thick woods before other villages began.

The village was a farming community, and had only a simple collection of wooden houses and an old stone church. The town's monach, Bassius, was a Gabrielite who had lived there for nearly two years and was much loved. The town was quiet, peaceful, and perfect.

Until the murders had begun.

Children had been taken, one a month for the past several months, from their locked homes under the parents noses without so much as a sound. When found, they were brutally murdered and in many cases mutiliated. Blood was used in heretical ways to write what appeared to be Engelic script and other things in languages no one in the village could read. There were no literate people in the village of Groten.

A prelate had been sent for to investigate these dark crimes, and he at last had arrived just the day that Maethiel and Luriel reach the village.

The Monach of the village, Bassius, is extremely relieved to have Engels present. He welcomes them with open arms and calls out to the villagers to let them know the winged protectors have come, and the murders at last can be stopped! The prelate is not as pleased.

The prelate is an old man, plagued by terrible headaches, and growing tired of hunting after the ever-present heretics in the world. The raw brutality of these crimes shocks him in a way he hadn't thought he could feel again.

As Luriel is the only literate being present, she offers to help. Maethiel tells her he will investigate the townspeople, and speak with them to try and find some answer as to what has been happening.

The previous killings have been removed and cleaned with no notes taken on their details, but the most recent killing is still fresh. In the basement of an old shed she finds the murdered boy, and the markings on the wall. There is an inscription in perfect Latin which reads:

SPOILER WARNING!

"How can the children still fly- When there is no ink left to burn?"

SPOILER WARNING!

There are also Engelic glyphs on the walls, symbols that normally adorn the bodies of Engelic warriors. A disturbing realization comes to Luriel then. Someone educated is commiting these crimes, someone most likely from her own order. Only someone educated would know Latin.

It is then the hatch leading into this basement cavity shuts, and Luriel is plunged into almost complete darkness. The candle she carries goes out, and she is left in the dark.

She feels that she is not alone. Something is here with her, breathing, softly growling. It feels evil. It feels unclean. She starts to panic and-

[SotDX]

Light floods the chamber she is in as Bassius checks on her to make sure she is ok. He won't enter the chamber itself, as the scene is too horrific. Luriel decides that she just imagined the sounds that previously had terrified her.

Bassius helps her out of the chamber, and the Prelate stands by grumbling. Luriel tells them what the Latin said, but neither have any idea of what it could mean. The prelate is angered by the notion that some member of the Church could commit such henious crimes.

Mathiel returns to talk with Luriel and comfort her. He tells her the villagers say there have been seven children killed so far, and that its been happening for the past seven months. One is taken each month. No one knows what is happening, but all suspect it is some foul craft of the Tempter. No locks are broken. No sounds are heard. No windows shattered. How can this despoiler of innocence be perpatrating such terrible crimes?

Mathiel and Luriel decide that the Fellowship should be warned of the potential dangers in the village. Despite Mathiel's arguments to the contrary, Luriel chooses to stay behind in Groten and explore further. She wants to know what is happening. She looks around at the frightened faces of the children and their parents, and can not resist the call to help.

Mathiel leaves Luriel behind, flying to rejoin the Fellowship as the day grows later.

Luriel befriends one of the village children by approaching her and playing with the girl's cat. Luriel is told the name of the cat, and learns from the child that the children describe the "bad man" as a cloaked figure of death. The children recall being frozen still in their beds, paralyzed for some period of time on the night of each murder. Luriel tries to tell the Prelate about these matters, but his health is poor and he eventually retires with Bassius into the Monach's home.

Frustrated, Luriel uses her Order's gifts to speak with an older Rammielite friend she has back in Prague. She requests of Jaciel, an Engel nearly old enough to ascend, assistance in finding any known Ramielite rogues who have gone missing or might be capable of such atrocity. She hopes still that no member of her order could do such a thing, but whoever this is must be literate and have great knowledge of Engelic scriptum.

Luriel is told by the family of the little girl that she may stay with them if she wishes. They would consider it a great blessing to give refuge to an Engel, and that it would make them feel so much safer for their daughter.

Luriel sleeps in an empty chamber in the front of the house, and is awoken first by the child's cat creeping into her room. As it crawls onto her, she awakens and is startled. She strokes the cat, and is

SPOILERS!

suddendly awash in a strange feeling of vertigo. As she pets the cat, she knows its name is Toby (which it is not) and that it is a tabby (again, which it is not). The feeling passes, but leaves her confused and unsure. It as if she is remembering a cat she herself has never had. Engel do not have pets!

SPOILERS!

Luriel returns to sleep, drifting into a deep slumber. She feels more and more rested, until all thought leaves her mind.

She feels almost as if she is floating, numb on top of the sheets of this strange human bed.

On some level, she knows something is not right... has she been drugged? But then even such thought leaves her and she descends deeper into slumber.

The hooded cloaked figure outside the house has come to take the last child away, and Luriel sleeps... unaware.

[SotDX]

From the dark place in which Luriel slept came a dim light. A voice, not more than a whisper, brought tremble to the enclosing walls of sleep. At once, Luriel sat up in the bed, and heard Jaciel's voice in her mind. The words were clear, but her mind was not. She felt drugged, thick, slow...

As she tried to focus on Jaciel's words, her Ramielite brethren, her eye caught motion out of the window. Something was happening outside in the dim night. As Luriel moved toward the window, Jaciel's words flowed from his distant locale in Prague. He spoke of a young Ramielite monach who had tried to kill his own Ab not two years past, and who had fled from his Monastery many days to the west. He had not been seen in the two years, but he was certainly a possibility. No answer was ever said for what had happened to him, but it was whispered he had read something in his Ab's chambers which unhinged him.

Only half listening, Luriel's heart thudded faster as she saw what transpired outside. In the filtered light of the clouded moon, she could see a dark cloaked and hooded figure standing with arms outreached inside the yard of the house. The young girl who lived in the house was floating out to him, her arms and legs seemingly restrained by invisible bonds. The girl, Miriam, seemed powerless to stop herself as the front door of the house shut and relocked behind her, again as if invisible hands manipulated it.

Luriel in that moment understood what was happening. This was the child-killer, and somehow he had the power to make all in the house sleep deeply, and could move the child with the power of his mind (somehow) and open and close locks without touching them. What awful foe she faced, she did not know.

As Luriel opened the window and lept forth, her question was answered by Jaciel's final words. He told her in his speech from mind to mind that the renegade Monach was named "Hoffman". Luriel's instincts took hold, and she raced through the dark around the cloaked figure through the yard and struck at him with her blade.

The dark figure screamed and Miriam fell to the ground. There was a sense of weight lifted, a heaviness to the air which evaporated. His dark spell had been broken, and the house awoke. The figure, his face still veiled behind the folds of his cowl, turned shaking with anger at Luriel. With only a snarl Luriel found herself flung backwards, as if she had been pushed by hands of great strength.

Miriam's father, Marcus, raced out of the door with a torch, and found his daughter crying curled in his yard and an Engel laying prone. Luriel immediately raced after the figure vanishing into the darkening night, trying to follow him, as it seemed he almost glided away.

Loosing sight of him for a moment, she instead found a trail of blood from the wound she had given him. Following it, wishing for the moon's unobstructed return, she proceeded into a barn. Luriel could tell he was above her in the hayloft, as she could perceive the outline of his form. Something else were here as well.

Something that buzzed, and had reflective spots on its form.

Luriel flew up cautiously, landing atop a rafter, trying to better see her adversary. She was greeted with words.

[Neverborn]

Sorry to interrupt your thread but keep it coming, while I haven't ran Engel I do have the corebook and Creatures of the Dreamseed. I think it is an amazing setting with alot of potential (though very bleak and hopeless)

[SotDX]

SPOILERS!

"You are nothing. You can not defeat me. You are a technological abomination.

You are a thing built of man's lying science."

SPOILERS!

Luriel was shocked at his outrageous claims, and called back to him that she was a servant of Heaven and a Engel of the Lord! Who was this foul creature to make such heretical claims?

Before Luriel could fly across to the hay-loft's platform to end the deceitful words of her enemy, something buzzed out and past her, almost knocking her off the rafter. She was sure it was some sort of Dreamseed, but what kind?

Before she could react it attacked her, knocking her off the rafter and into a spin to the ground. As she impacted the hard earth below, the dog sized winged insect stung her in the stomach, and starting biting her on the shoulder, drawing blood and causing her great pain.

Luriel struggled against it, her blade banging ineffectively against the hard chitinous plates on the monstrosity. With a second strike she managed to pierce the armor, but she began to feel weak. This was not the odd magics of her hooded adversary, but the unwelcome pull of the sting in her stomach. With a grave resolve she continued to struggle with the biting insect fighting her to the ground, but she knew in her rapidly weakening state it was not to be.

Desperately, she thought of her distant Fellowship, and cursed herself for being in this situation without their help.

Death was more certainly ahead, if not for the fated apperance of Marcus, the father of the almost abducted child, appearing with a torch at the entrance to the barn. He shouted in alarm at the site before him, and the Dragonfly like Dreamseed lept from its winged prey and descended with great force upon its new target, biting through the poor man's throat.

Luriel, fighting back the paralysis and nausea of the venom working its way through her veins struggled to her feet and lunged at the Dreamseed as it bit deeper into Marcus. She managed to kill it, one fell swoop deep into its back. Marcus, sadly, was dead before she could reach him.

Luriel stumbled, and then fell to her knees. She whirled around, looking for any sign of her original pursuit, but she found only an open window on the back of the hay-loft.

Before Luriel could collapse, villagers, many carrying pitchforks and torches, appeared at the entrance and collectively gasped at the visage before them. A dead towns-friend, a monstrous Dreamseed, and an Engelic protector bleeding and weak.

Luriel remembered the words of her nonnus, Adolphus, regarding how rarely most humans ever saw Engel. How important it was that Engel always appear confidant and proud, to be a bastion against despair and fear. Steeling herself with those words, she rose to her feet and told the townsfolk what had happened. The Prelate was found and brought forth, and a mob was formed to hunt for the killer.

Luriel, against her protests, was convinced to return to Miriam's house to rest, at least until the toxin in her blood had worn off.

This was a dark moment for Luriel. She watched the newly widowed mother of Miriam pray over her child, and felt a sense of shame and failure. She had saved the child, but she had let one man die and the fiend escape. Luriel bent down and hugged the widow, unable to say anything. The woman only thanked her, crying into her soft wings.

Luriel bandaged her bite wounds, and the effects of the toxin quickly wore off. The tears of the widow still drying on her skin, she set forth into the night galvanized to find the cause of such sorrow, or die in the trying.

[SotDX]

Luriel scanned the trees, searching for torchlights in the night beyond. She quickly caught up with three villagers standing around the robe of the fiend.

It was slashed in the back where she had cut him with her blade, and blood soaked the material around the cut. Why had he thrown off his cloak? Had he changed into something? With such strange powers, what was impossible for the Tempter to do?

Then she heard shouts to the east. Something (or someone) had been found. She flew through the trees to the source, and was shocked to find the Prelate and several of the townsfolk gathered around a body-

The body of Groten's monach, Bassius.

He was naked save for a simple loincloth, lying on his back. His body was covered in fine cuts that bled profusely. It was as if someone had meticulosly cut him with a razor sharp blade, in horizontal lines. He moaned in pain, still breathing, if barely.

The Prelate was aghast at this treatment, cursing the fiendish creature of the Tempter that would do such, an outrage. The villagers were also horrified, worried for the fate of their beloved spirtual shephard.

Luriel, however, doubted. She wanted to see his back. Something about this struck her as wrong. Why would Bassius be out in the woods, taken by the fiend and left here in such a state? The discarded cloak so close...

Before she could turn him over, the Prelate ordered Bassius to be taken to his home and tended to at once. Luriel tried without success to gain a look at Bassius's back, but again was unable to as he was carried away with great care. There was so much blood. Would the wound even been visible, if it was there? She began to doubt herself. The Prelate would never believe her if she didn't have some kind of proof.

Luriel began to walk back to the village, half following the group carrying Bassius. She stopped to ask one of the upset villagers about Bassius, feigning concern more than focused interest. She discovered that he had only been in the village for shy of two years. He had suffered some form of loss over a year ago, which was a hushed rumor that a village woman he felt inappropriate passion for had drowned while swimming with him. He had never been the same since, but he was still the heart of their village.

The dates matched... the oddity about the drowning was peculiar... somehow there must be a test to be sure...

Luriel decided she would try saying the name in front of Bassius and see if there was a reaction. If he was faking his injuries perhaps he would react to his true name. She walked to Bassius's house, and entered the room where the Prelate and the villagers tended to the monach's injuries. Waiting until a quiet moment, she simply said the name firmly:

"Hoffman."

There was a reaction... but not just on Bassius's face. Both the Prelate and Bassius reacted to the word. Bassius moaned and his eyes fluttered, the Prelate turned and looked greatly upset. He pushed Luriel out into the hall and demanded to know just what she was on about.

Luriel explained her suspicions to the Prelate, but he did not agree. In his eyes, Bassius was another victim of this dark creature of the Fear-Lord (Lord of the Flies), and that was that. He had heard of this heretic, Hoffman. He told her his head still hurt, and he was going to bed. The matter would be sorted out in the morning.

Luriel closed her eyes in frustration as the door to Bassius's chamber shut and the Prelate returned to the room in which the possible fiend slept. She had to find some kind of solid proof, something to make certain what she only suspected. What else would work?

Then it occured to her. If Bassius was really a runaway Ramielite monach named Hoffman, then he had to have hidden somewhere the most prized possession of any Ramielite.

His books.

She immediately went to Bassius's study chamber, and searched. She found a sketched portrait of a beautiful woman, odds and ends expected of a village Monach, but no written words.

She walked into the main chamber of the church in a sense of defeat and supplication. She needed guidance, and none was present to aid. She leaned on the altar, and pondered it as a possible place to hide something. It was a sacred place that no worshiper would profane. When her finger found the hidden button, she was both happy and terrified.

A hidden chamber opened. What would lay within? Did this confirm her fears? She stepped inside and walked down a short curving set of stone stairs in a small chamber. It was lined with books. On the wall, though, was the most suprising item of all.

A map. A map of Europe. A map of Europe showing the paths of the Infernos, and their current locations.

But this map was not current. It was not old either.

This map on the wall showed the course of the Infernos twenty years into the future. One was plotted as heading straight for Roma, and it was achingly close in its depiction.

Luriel's vision from her night of meditation filled her senses. The Inferno bearing down on the Holy City, and the voice... a voice from behind her... from a Wanderer, a friendly strange man...

"You can not avert this. It will be."

Luriel blinked, taking in the image of this map, making certain her recall would be perfect. The books were forgotten in this reverie of oddity; her danger here was forgotten as well.

She turned at the sound of Bassius's voice. There before her stood Hoffman.

"My my... you have been busy. What have you found, sweet winged one?"

[SotDX]

Luriel knew the danger she was in. She was trapped in a small chamber with no room to maneuver. Before her stood the nearly naked form of the Monach the villager's knew as Bassius, but she knew his true identity. The wounds over his flesh closed before her eyes, sealing their razor thin slashes as he smiled at her. His eyes were both laughing and rank with disturbing intent.

She reached for her blade, but he merely gestured with his hands and the weapon flew from her grasp to the back of the chamber. Luriel met the eyes of her foe, and steeled herself for the attack she knew was to come.

Hoffman smiled at her then, and explained to her that he was not going to kill her. A dead Prelate could be forgotten, but a dead Engel? That was hard to explain. (She realized he had already slain the sleeping prelate).

He went on to tell her how she had impressed him, even if she had upset his plans and purpose. And, most importantly, he did not want to kill her for this reason above all:

"I will spare you for no reason if not this; I could have been you, you could have been me."

He told her his master was calling, and thus their conversation would have to end. Luriel made an effort to rush him, a desperate effort to perhaps grapple with him weaponless. He merely frowned and she was struck still. She stood motionless, as if her body would not obey her commands.

Hoffman told her she must now be punished in a way he felt most fitting. As he turned to walk out of the chamber, books began to fly from the shelves at Luriel. She was released from her immobility, but the books from all sides began to pummel her, and she was quickly overwhelmed as large volumes knocked her to the floor.

The irony of a Rammielite crushed by the written word was almost her last thought. As she lost consciousness, she became dimly aware of heat and flames, and being dragged from the source of the fire.

When Luriel regained consciousness, she found herself staring up into the face of several villagers and Maethiel. The smell of smoke and burned paper was strong in the church, and all around her were concerned faces. She had many bruises, but as she discovered, she was free of any burns.

Luriel began to tell Mathiel of all that had happened, and as he listened, he grew grave. He began to apologize to her for leaving her behind to fight such evil on her own, and trying to comfort Luriel in her disoriented and wounded state. Luriel wanted him to know that Adolphus could now safely come to the village, as Hoffman/Bassius had left, though she did not feel she had been very successful in achieving such.

Mathiel set forth once more to rejoin the party traveling south, and Luriel made her way to the hidden stairway, hoping that some shred of material might still remain. The image of the map still haunted her. Would it still be hanging on the wall? The memory of fire could not be false, as she could still smell the smoke. And yet where had the fire come from?

Luriel reached the bottom of the stairs and found nothing but ash and scorched walls. She imagined Hoffman had burned anything he did not wish to take with him, destroying all traces of his presence here. She returned to the chamber in his domicle where she had found the sketch of a woman.

The sketch, alone among the items in the room, was no longer present.

Luriel pondered, her bruises aching, her pride diminished, as to what sort of creature this Hoffman was. A servant of the Tempter, but something that kept sketches of a dead love?

What did he mean by saying he could have been her? He was only a human Monach, she an Engel.

And, as to his strange powers, it appeared he could control a Dreamseed. The night before he had set one on her in the barn.

As she hugged herself, exiting the church into the cold morning air, she made a promise. Someday she would meet this Hoffman again, and when that day came, she would finish what she failed to do in Groten.

Hoffman would die.

[SotDX]

Well, that finished the equivalent of our first three sessions. This was our first experience with Engel. Both the player and I were exploring, trying to find out just what qualities of Engel we wanted to embrace in our game.

In some ways, this serves as a kind of minature for the entire story to follow. Luriel passes through a kind of three phase process, innocence, awareness and finally sacrifice. The great evil (with a human soul) she found in Hoffman will return some day, but his presence is felt for many sessions to come. He is not a physical boogeyman to her adventures, but a kind of lurker in the fear and dread when further questions are asked.

In these sessions Malinda, who played Luriel, tried on the feathers and skin of an Engel for the first time, and by the end of the "Hoffman" espiode, she had decided she was fascinated and hooked. Something about playing the inquisitive and prideful seeker of understanding appealed to her.

For my own story, I'd decided by the end of these sessions just where I wanted my own Engel story to go. Even now, a year and a half later, Luriel does not know the truth of her existence or answers to many of the questions she asked as she left Groten's church, but the questions she asked there have shaped our entire game.

So, we will continue the journey of Adolphus and his Engelic protectors as they move further south into unknown territory. What will the lands of the Satrap be like? Will they encounter more Dreamseed? And most intriguing of all questions to come, just what will the renegade Engel "Thagiuel the Tripled Crowned" be like?

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it.

~SotDX

[SotDX]

Luriel had taken some additional rest as she awaited the arrival of her party. Upon waking, some portion of the stiffness and bruising had eased, but she still found her bitten shoulder sore and its wound angry.

Rising, she walked around the village, with no sign of her group having arrived as of yet. She did see children at play. Her spirits were lifted, for these children had a light in their eyes and a joy that had been absent yesterday, and most likely for many months. Word had spread that the evil preying on them had been forced to move on, and they were now free.

Luriel smiled, and watched them for a moment. She became aware, though, that their play was not nonsense. They were re-enacting her battle with the fell creature, and this made her uncomfortable. One of the children, a young boy, played at being Hoffman and menaced the others.

The children must have sensed her displeasure at their game, and a hush fell over them. One, the boy who played Hoffman, left the group and approached her, only a hint of fear in his eyes. It was hard for Luriel to understand how to relate to humans who rarely saw Engels. The villagers all worshiped her so, it made her uncomfortable. Yes, she was an Engel of the Lord. But she was their servant and protector, not their master. They had nothing to fear from her.

The child asked her with a tremulous voice if she would tell them of her adventure last night so they could play it right. Luriel pondered how to reply to the timid faces of the children, and then decided on the best course. She gathered the children around, and began to tell them a different story, one that centered on other children who had overcome much and created something great and lasting. She told them of a child who did not age, and how children had come from the destruction and darkness following the plagues and floods to found the Engelitic Church.

The children all watched Luriel with amazement and wonder, and she felt good replacing their interest in the murderer with something righteous and holy. Still, as she told the tale, she realized that young Miriam, the girl she had saved from death, was not present with this body of children. She asked the collected youths where Miriam was, and learned that she was in her house with her mother.

Luriel thanked the children, and left them playing games of the fore-children of the Church, and of the coming of Petrus Secundus. Luriel reached Miriam's house, and saw the mother placing laundry out to dry. The girl held fast to her mother's leg, and it was clear the loss of her father had affected her deeply.

Luriel didn't approach them, as she wanted to give them time to deal with their grief, and she worried that her presence would be all too sudden a reminder of what had happened. She prepared to make inquiries into the death of the Prelate, and see what she could do (if anything) to help, when she saw Mathiel and Cassiel flying over the northern side of the village. At last, the Fellowship and party had arrived.

She was very pleased to see them all, even though she feared the verbal lashing she was certain to receive from Touriel. All greeted her, especially Cassiel who immediately was concerned for her bruises and cuts. Adolphus, though, concerned her. In the short time since she had last seen him his bearded face had grown even more pale. He was an old human whose remaining years would be short, but she sensed that the trip was not easy for him. Cassiel noticed her concern, and told her that he was doing all he could for him to keep him in good health.

Touriel ordered Cassiel to tend to her wounds, and then asked Luriel to meet with her as soon as they were finished. Mathiel met Luriel's look at this, and in a silent way they shared a moment of dread as to what Touriel would say over her adventure.

Cassiel was able to heal the bite, and examined her stomach to see the sting mark that had nearly paralyzed her. He fussed over her till she grew frustrated, but it was clear that he had been worried for her after learning from Mathiel that she had been injured. Cassiel told Luriel how brave he thought she was, fighting something as strange as this false priest who could move things with naught but a gesture of his hand. Luriel thanked him, and headed away to meet Touriel. What would she say? And worse, what would Luriel say back?

Touriel stood alone near the now empty church, pondering the ground. Luriel cleared her throat, and approached. Touriel smiled at Luriel, a reaction she was not expecting. Touriel told her that while it would have been safer and more tactically sound to have waited for reinforcements before racing off to fight an unknown enemy, she had demonstrated great cunning and intelligence in not only fighting the enemy but deciphering who he truly was.

Touriel told her that Engel must all too often fight a strong if not stronger foe, and that only their wits and cunning would win the day. She wanted to know the rest of the details that Luriel had found in her investigations, and paid particular interest to the riddle Luriel had found on the wall. She charged Luriel with continuing to try to answer it.

Luriel then asked Touriel a question. She told her that she felt frustrated that she was not better trained as a Ramielite in the necessary arts of war, and wanted permission to ask Kyriel to help train her. Touriel seemed pleased that she had asked for permission, and granted it letting her know it was a good idea.

Luriel left her counsel with the Fellowship's leader feeling pleased and surprised. She had for the first time had a mutually positive meeting with Touriel, and hopefully this would be an indication of what future relations with her would be like.

[SotDX]

Luriel now ventured to check on her old nonnus. She was worried about him, noticing before how he looked somewhat ill upon arriving in Groten. Vienna was still several days ride to the south, and as she understood their mission, there would be little rest for him when they arrived.

Luriel found herself thinking more about their mission and her nonnus. It had been a revelation to her that he had been a Raguelite nonnus before the destruction of that order. Had he lived through the actual attack at Trondheim? She only knew what little she had been taught and had read of the subject, but the idea of her beloved Adolphus there on the day a Himmel was brought low was hard to imagine.

He had been a great figure in her days as a postulant, always ready to answer her many questions, and he provided a friendly ear to her ideas and thoughts. One memory in particular came to her as she made her away across the village to the house he was resting within. It had been one of the first times she had taken to the air alone, without the guide of other older Ramielites. She had soared into the clouds, exultant in the feeling of the air and the freedom of the sky.

She had been told to not fly too far, as she was still very young and her muscles were still growing into her new form. The path from Heaven was exhausting, they had been taught, and it took time for their perfect essences to best meet with the impurities of this base world. Heedlessly she flew higher and higher, finally piercing the clouds and reaching the open sky above. The moon was high in the sky, shining its brilliant gleam. All around her was the naked jewels of the night sky, hundreds of twinkling stars for her eyes to drink in. She had never flown above the clouds before, and the stars were unknown to her. What could they be?

She soared back and forth, rapt in attention to the mysterious canvas before her. She knew from her lessons that Engels were called down from on high… of course! The stars were the Engel yet to be called. She was looking at her brethren in the sky, who dreamed in Heaven before their Archangels called them.

Young Luriel was proud of herself for her deduction, and immediately felt no other call than to tell her nonnus and make him proud of her for being so brilliant. With great speed she descended, and immediately marched to his chamber in the Himmel. She excitedly told him of what she had seen and what she now realized it all was.

He smiled at her, patting her on her head and shoulders, and shook his head. “Little one”, as he always called her, “you are mistaken, I am afraid.” He tutted when she looked crestfallen, and told her what the stars really were. He told her how they were not unlike the sun in the sky, and how they were a great distance away.

He explained how they could not be Engels waiting to be called, for Engel’s are called often, and yet the stars did not change. They were in patterns, called constellations. With the proper tools, one could find their way in the night by the patterns of the stars.

Luriel was interested in this, and asked how could one do so? Adolphus paused, looked out of his chamber as if to make sure no one was walking near, and then pulled forth a strange contraption he wore on a chain around his neck from under his robe. He told her it was an astrolabe, and that using it correctly one could find out where they were, no matter how lost they became. Luriel wanted to know more, but then Adolphus put the tool away. He told her they would speak no more of it this night, and how he did not want her to say more of it to her fellows. It would be their secret, special between them.

Now she knew why he had such a device, for he had lived as one of the order who kept all technology, the shepherds of the tool and device in far distant Trondheim. Why had he not told her? Was it a secret? More likely, she thought, a matter of shame over the dissolution of the Raguelite Order. But he had been nonnus to this Thagiel. What would that be like for him, to know one of his postulants had betrayed the church, and now he must see the traitor face to face?

Luriel entered the chamber that Adolphus rested in quietly so as to not wake him if he slept. His eyes were open and aware, and he wrote in a journal he kept. They spoke, but he was guarded of his past. He did not want to speak of his past, only confirming that yes he had been there when the Himmel fell. He, and many others had been ordered to leave as the Engel of the Himmel made one last desperate attempt at defending against the massive army of Dreamseed and the approaching Inferno.

Then she asked him of Thagiel. Adolphus grew quiet and, at the mention of the name, more pale as well. Luriel began to suspect the trip was not all that made him ill. Perhaps Adolphus dreaded the actual purpose of this mission.

“I do not wish to speak of him. He is a traitor to his Order and to the Church. You would do well to avoid him when we reach Vienna. Now let me rest, little one.”

Luriel nodded, placing a wrap around her aged teacher. She left him to rest and went outside. The Templars and Rythe were speaking outside the house, keeping a guarded vigil, protecting their charge. There words fell silent as she neared them, and she could see awe in the eyes of the Templars of her own order.

In Rythe’s eyes, there was more than awe. She could tell he took pride in an Engel of his order. He greeted her, and put into words what she had gathered from his look. He told her how the villagers and their children were celebrating and how they would be throwing a feast tonight in her honor. He imagined that in the years to come many children of the village would be named human forms of “Luriel”, be it Lorry, Lurry, or what-have-you.

Luriel was not certain if such was right. She had not defeated the creature, and really it was not her that had driven it away. Hoffman could have killed her. She tried to voice words such as this to Rythe, and he understood her misgivings. He told her that Touriel had ordered that no Engel should go to such a festival, and that they should keep their distance from the celebrators. Still, Rythe told her, it was his opinion that she had fought bravely and he was proud to be in her company.

Before Luriel could respond, she caught sight of Kyriel, and approached her in order to ask her assistance in helping to train her for battle. Kyriel listened, and gave her a serious look. She told her that she would train her, if and only if she could pass her test. Before Luriel could ask the test, Kyriel turned and started to walk away. Luriel followed her, calling after her, wanting to know what such a test would entail.

In response, Kyriel whirled around, sword drawn in a blur, and brought the blade down at the Rammielite! Luriel only managed to defect the blade by the edge of her own knife, but succeed she did. Kyriel laughed, hit Luriel on the shoulder with no small force, and told her that she would teach her soon.

As Kyriel turned away again, Luriel rubbed her now sore shoulder, and pondered if she had just made a mistake in the asking.

[SotDX]

As Kyriel walked away, Luriel heard Maethiel behind her.

“I don’t know if you’ll learn much from that flame haired Engel other than how to hack off limbs and risk your life.”

Luriel turned, expecting to see his sly smile, but instead he looked almost upset. Was he not joking? She had trouble understanding him sometimes. He was the most human of all of the Engel in her Fellowship, and sometimes he could behave in inscrutable ways.

She asked him if he really thought it was a bad idea, but he evaded the question. He mumbled the he also could have taught her how to fight better, but then seemed to want to drop the subject. It almost felt as if he was jealous in some way.

The rest of the day passed with little of note. The town celebrated the ending of its dark time, parents thanked God that their children were now safe, childless parents asked God why their children had been taken, and the little ones slept dreaming of Engelic protectors soaring above. One girl, Miriam, cried herself to sleep wishing for her father to tell her one last story.

Luriel and the Fellowship stayed for the night, planning to make way for St. Terrel’s, nearly a day’s ride to the south, at first light. According to Cassiel, Adolphus was well enough for the journey but his health could turn easily.

The Prelate was buried in a small ceremony that Touriel officiated at, and promises were made that a new Monach would be sent to the town by the Gabrielites in time. An odd moment happened then, where it was clear on the faces of some of the villagers that no hurry was needed in a new priest. While they clearly trusted the Engel, some level of mistrust and fear had been bred in these innocents. It seemed clear to Luriel what damage doubt could cause if evil men pretended to be holy.

At long last, with nightfall and the last preparations made, Luriel turned to rest with her other Engel, drifting at last into a somewhat easy sleep.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dream was odd.

Luriel was atop the rafters in a stone and wood church not unlike the one in Groten. She was hunched over strangely, her body feeling heavier than it normally did. A figure was below her at the altar.

She was frightened. Something was not right with her form. Her hands were talons, and her feet alike to some war-bird. There was no Ramielite tunic over her body, no sacred signum. She was some feral bird-creature, a beast lurking in the shadows atop this church.

Her attention focused on the form below, a man walking from the altar now, carrying some form of incense token swinging back and forth. The smell prickled in her nose, too intense for normal scent. What was happening!?

Then her eyes caught sight of the man below. He wore a monach’s robe, but it was Hoffman. She may have become some beast herself, but before her was the beast she wanted dead. Her anger became a white fire, and with a war-cry she leapt from the wooden beam and descended upon him in savage satisfaction. She tore into his form, biting and ripping with an atavistic ecstasy alien to her being.

She stopped then, flesh and blood dripping from her changed face, her wings stained in crimson, and sang. The voice filling the empty chamber was one of release and fulfillment.

Yes. She had enjoyed her meal.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luriel awoke covered in sweat and horrified. The taste of the kill was still on her lips, and the feeling of satisfied hunger terrified her. Where did these feelings come from? Where in fact did the dream come from?

It was nothing that she had felt before. She was terrified, to have become some thing, and to enjoy killing someone that much, even if it had been Hoffman. She pushed it from her mind. It was lunacy. A dream that fed on unsettled fears. That was all.

She gathered her things and went outside into the almost sun of near morning, and made her way to the Templars who were readying the horses and Adolphus’s wagon. She would help them, and clear her mind in the fresh air.

As she finished, Rythe caught her eye and motioned behind her. Luriel turned and found the young girl, Miriam, standing before her holding her cat. For a moment, Luriel flashed on the strange thoughts that passed through her mind when she held that cat only two nights past.

Luriel kneeled down before the girl, and motioned to her. The child looked at Luriel, and asked her in a clear voice unfettered by tears when her father would be coming back. Luriel closed her eyes, and asked the Lord above to give her strength. How could she best answer the child? What had the child’s mother told her?

She told the girl that her father had been sent to Heaven above, and that he would wait there for her as long as Miriam lived. That he would be there for her when she herself passed into the Heavens that wait beyond the pale of death. Then Luriel told her that her father had been very brave, and had fought the evil man to make sure all children, especially his fair daughter, would be safe and able to live long joyous lives.

Miriam sniffled, began to cry, and then hugged on to Luriel firmly. She asked the Engel not to leave. The cat, smushed between the two, meowed loudly with annoyance at being bound between them. Luriel stroked the girl’s head, and told her softly that she had to go. She had something she had to do, other children to protect, but that she would have no reason to be afraid. It was safe here now. A new Monach would come soon.

Miriam pulled away, wiping at her eyes, and asked Luriel a question that set her back.

“How will I know who to trust?”

Luriel smiled at her, and told her that all she could do was rely on what her heart told her. She said that you can trust what your inside tells you.

Then the Fellowship left Groten, continuing on its journey. Luriel found herself looking back at the retreating village as they rode south. She could not remove the image of those questioning eyes looking up at her, the doubt of ever trusting again.

From her own horse Touriel watched Luriel, and the Michaelite sighed to herself as she saw in Luriel what she had seen in other Engel. This was a world filled with troubles and pain, and Engel could be pulled low by them if they were not strong.

[SotDX]

There was not much of a road for the Fellowship and party to travel down, as they were nearing the far reaches of Engelitic controlled lands. By the vagaries of fate the Gabrielite Order held the swatch of land between Ramiel’s lands to the north and the Diadoche “occupied” lands to the south. Saint Terrels, the Gabrielite monastery they approached, was the final bastion of decency and order before the typically lawless lands of the heretic junklords began.

Small discussions had broken out between the Engel on horseback. Kyriel was mostly quiet, only interjecting in a firm off-putting manner that aggravated Maethiel. Cassiel and Luriel spoke and laughed quietly. There was a tenderness to Cassiel that appealed to Luriel, and a friendship began between them. Touriel rode ahead of the others, quiet, and perhaps introspective in her thoughts.

Who knows what Touriel wondered that day on the road to St. Terrels? Perhaps she questioned the nature of their journey. What could Adolphus achieve when he reached Vienna? Perhaps he was going to try and lure back the traitor. But Touriel would have doubted that. She knew, as the others did not, that on three separate occasions powerful Engel had been dispatched to destroy Thagiel. On one occasion the Engel sent had been an elder Michaelite.

Touriel also knew that none of the Engel sent ever returned.

No, Touriel knew too much to think that Thagiel could be won back by the sudden appearance of his old teacher. Touriel had other ideas as to why Adolphus had been sent. As I said, who knows what Touriel thought that day? It is lost to us.

The Templars muttered among themselves about the possibility of another Dreamseed attack, and of the considerable danger that lay ahead. One of the younger of the warriors spoke only of his excitement at seeing the armies of the junklord with his own eyes. Rythe nodded and smiled to his men, himself eager to travel where few of his fellows ever did. To see an enemy country in a time of relative peace was a rare possibility. He savored the thought of it.

There would be danger, he admitted to himself, but the exoticness of it outweighed the anxiety.

Alone among the gathered riders, Adolphus rode in his wagon, his eyes veiled from the sunlight under his cowl. His thoughts were his own. As the others discovered one another and pondered the future potential of life, he tasted naught but ashes. He knew from his first meeting with his Ab in Prague that this mission would be his death. He was asked to achieve the impossible. He had been told things he did not want to hear… not after so many “little ones”. If it was true, he had to try. It was a desperate hope, but one that he clung to. Thagiel… how he ached to see him, and despaired of the coming to the day it would happen.

[SotDX]

The three Engel landed in the courtyard of the monastery and were greeted by Templars and monachs about their routines. Saint Terrels was a place of order amid the chaos of the world. Ab Goethe was a hard man, and believed that an easy hand led to an uneasy state. As such, the three Engel were noticed by several, and every effort was made to greet them by all near.

Luriel, Maethiel, and Cassiel had been sent ahead to let Goethe know that Adolphus would be arriving shortly and that preparations should be completed for his stay. Word had been given as the trip began, but now that he finally approached the fortress before the wastelands beyond, a final notice was expected.

The three Engel began to make their way to the Ab’s chambers when Luriel caught sight of the shy young monach she had met upon her first visit to the monastery, Davrus. She beckoned to him, and left Maethiel and Cassiel to speak to the Ab without her, imagining they could do as well as she in such a role. Luriel had to catch up with Davrus, as he acted as if he had not seen her motion to him.

Luriel smiled at him and greeted him, expecting to find the shy but friendly face she had spoken to before as she had helped him pick up his boxes. Instead, Davrus would not meet her eyes. He seemed uncomfortable in her presence, almost recoiling from her. What had transpired?

She reminded him that she was the Engel he had only recently met, hoping that his memory might be at fault for his behavior. He nodded to her, but backed away slowly. Something was wrong, but Luriel was uncertain as to what could be responsible for his almost fear of her presence. Despite her uncertainty, she bid him a good day and turned to walk away.

Perhaps he had been criticized for his casual relations with an Engel on her last visit. The idea sickened Luriel that he could have been punished for speaking to an Engel. She was often confused over the peculiar way humans reacted to her kind. Still, this was wrong. She pondered asking the Ab of the matter. She had not met this Goethe yet, other than seeing him speaking with Touriel. Abs are to be wise and educated people. Surely he would see the light and resolve this injustice!

Luriel walked up the steps to the Ab’s chambers and entered his presence in time to hear a flagrant indictment of her order. Her temper flared as he railed before Maethiel and Cassiel on “how a murderous dog such as this Hoffman could only have been born from the order of scribblers and readers in Prague!” How could he say things such as this? How dare he!

The Ab caught sight of Luriel entering, and did not pause for more than a breath before greeting her with his scorn.

“It is sad, be true, that a battle-won Gabrielite was not there in cursed Groten. If that had been the cast of fate, this Hoffman would be beneath the soil- a dead man now!”

Luriel’s face flushed at this. It was not enough that he had disparaged her order’s monachs. Now he attacked her directly. How could she react? Acid words dripped through her thoughts, many responses neither diplomatic nor respectful in plentitude. She opened her mouth-

Maethiel stepped forward, bowing before the Ab. He placed himself between Luriel and the corpulent figure, answering the call of words with his own careful choice.

“It is true that this Hoffman escaped our fearless Ramielite’s arms, but it was her wits and cunning which ferreted out the deviltry at the heart of Groten. Even the poor Prelate was unaware of the evil around him.”

The Ab nodded, and in his own fashion, pulled in his barbs. Perhaps enough spittle had been thrown forth in his shouts already. He thanked the members of the Fellowship present for the last notice of Adolphus’s expected evening arrival, and made known to them all arrangements had been prepared. He then welcomed them to the courtesies of his “humble” abbey and bid them to go.

Luriel marched out of the chamber furious. How could that disgusting excuse for a man say things such as that. She wanted to go back up into his chamber and say all the things burning inside her. She would show him the meaning of a dangerous educated mind. Her brethren stepped out beside her, and Cassiel gave her a knowing look. He could tell how mad she was. He did not blame her. The Ab had spoken unfairly, and for what purpose?

Maethiel patted Luriel on the back, and grinned at her. She glared back at him, which only made him grin wider. For one moment she thought she was angry at him as well, and then she started laughing. Somehow his infectious too-human charm had extricated her from her anger. He whispered in her ear, telling her to forget the Ab’s words. He was a powerful man who sometimes took an almost cruel delight in the effect of what he said. He told her we are his guests, and have to endure him but for a short time.

Luriel nodded, and thanked Maethiel. He was right. She did not think she would have said anything inappropriate, but it was clearly less of an argument in the face of the Ab if someone other than herself defended her. Still, she hoped she would have a moment to prove herself before this man, if not for herself, for her order. The Ramielite Order was no danger, Hoffman or no Hoffman. They were loyal believers.

The three then decided to tend to each’s own respective calling. It would be many hours before the others arrived. Luriel decided a quiet moment beneath a tree to catch up on her journal entries would a most wonderful pursuit. Quiet reflection might become impossible when they entered the wastelands.

As she walked across the grounds of the monastery, thoughts of Davrus forgotten, she caught sight of a lone Engel flying overhead. Could this be Kyriel or Touriel? Had something befallen Adolphus’s party?

Before she could take to the air, the winged figure turned and landed before her. Her eyes lit up and she ran to this newcomer. Jaciel, her closet friend and confidant, had decided to pay her a call. He had flown from Prague to St. Terrels to see her. She greeted him warmly, excitedly listened to the news he brought of the riddle in the dark, and accepted the gift he had brought with him from far-away Prague.

[SotDX]

Jaciel was old for an Engel, having spent nearly ten years on the physical plane. He was to uninformed eyes turning into an adult. His chin had sprouts of bristly hair and his chest had become broad and muscled. It had occurred to Jaciel that his time on earth was nearing an end, but nothing had been said regarding his advancing age. He had enjoyed his life serving man, and was not eager to re-ascend, so he had not inquired as to why he had been passed over for leaving as of yet.

All that had changed.

But before Jaciel told Luriel of what had happened to him as a result of the questions he had asked about her riddle, he first presented her with a gift. He told her how Fra Domenico, now known as the Painter of Monsters, had only recently returned from his long voyage around Europe to explore the mysteries and nature of the Dreamseed. His work had been printed, but only a limited number of copies were available and they were still highly controlled.

It was uncertain if Domenico’s journal would ever be released to the Ramielite Order as a whole, but Jaciel had acquired a copy and after reading it himself wanted to present it to his closest friend.

Luriel and Jaciel had a close relationship. He had been one of her first Engelic teachers when she was but a postulant, and they had stayed close, forming almost a sibling like bond over the year they had known each other. In Luriel he saw potential and beauty. In Jaciel she saw wisdom and experience she herself craved.

And so it was that Jaciel committed a small sin, passing into the hands of a young Ramielite a as yet forbidden text not yet approved for such a tender Engel to read. He did not fear reprisal or punishment, as something had changed before he came which brought a great many things into perspective.

Jaciel told Luriel that he had asked many other Engel and Ramielite scholars what the riddle might mean, even discussing it with the Ab of their order. Some of the other older Engel confirmed something he himself had suspected, and he now revealed it to Luriel.

SPOILERS!

It had become apparent to the Elder Engel that fewer and fewer postulants were being trained in the past few years. For unknown reasons there had been a significant reduction in the amount of Engel being called from heaven in several of the Orders, not just that of Jeramiel. Jaciel had contacts in almost all of the Fighting Five orders, and all agreed. Something was amiss, though no one would discuss it or confirm it.

Perhaps, Jaciel alluded to Luriel, the riddle explained some unknown part in this reduction of those called from Heaven. Was there some shortage of the sacred ink all young Engel were marked with? But for what reason could that be? He then told Luriel that he had expressed these concerns to Ab Abrogast himself.

The Ab had laughed at him, and told him it was all madness. The riddle was the insane nonsense of a creature of the tempter, and it was to be forgotten immediately. The Ab said something else as well, with not but a breath between it and his dismissal of the theory.

The Ab asked Jaciel if he wasn’t nearly due to return to Heaven.

Luriel was shocked. Jaciel couldn’t leave. Her throat closed in, and her eyes started to water. She hugged onto him, and argued. There was no logical reason to fear his return to Heaven, but the idea of living here without him was too awful to bear. The concern over the riddle and the dismal by the Ab became unimportant before the weight of this revelation. Why?

Jaciel merely smiled at her, held her, and looked down into her crying face. Luriel started at his eyes, as something changed in them. Was it his sympathy for her? What emotion did he feel?

“Little sister, do not cry. I will be gone, but not forgotten. We will be together again in the place at the end of all things. Together in the sky.”

He turned then, away from her, and placed his hand to his head in an almost drunken way. What was wrong with him? He shook his head, and smiled.

“Forgive me, Luriel. For a moment I felt as if you were my real sister, as if I was just a man and you a woman. Perhaps they are right. This world has grown too much with me. It is imperfect, and it infects me with its imperfection.”

Luriel wiped her eyes, and hugged onto her friend. It didn’t matter. Yes they would be together again in the future, but she still had to live through the now.

In his maturity and gracefulness, Jaciel changed the subject away from his removal to Heaven and returned the focus of their talk to the text he had brought. He told Luriel he was eager to hear her theories on the experiences written therein, and that there were great revelations within the terse prose.

With these final words, and one last tender moment, Jaciel made his parting from Luriel and took to the air to return to Prague. Luriel watched him fly away, wishing for unspoken possibilities to come true. In her child-like way she loved him as a brother, and the knowledge that this could be the last time she would see him hurt her in ways she was not prepared for nor had felt before.

Once he had vanished into the distant skies, she took solace in the gift he had presented her. In the back of her mind she pondered the words he said. Could it be possible that fewer and fewer Engel were being called each year? Why would that be? There were fewer Orders now than only fifty years past, and the war with the Dreamseed continued. Heretics abounded, the Urbanis league was considered a threat, and the world was not a more quiet place. Why would the Archangels and Pontifex decrease the called warriors of God?

SPOILERS!

Luriel leaned back against her already chosen tree, and opened the cover to Domenico’s work. It was the journal of an exploration into great darkness. She felt a kinship to this Ramielite Monach, as she herself seemed to be on a journey into darkness. Perhaps his words could aid her in finding a way to once more re-enter the light.

[SotDX]

Luriel was a Ramielite Engel. What does this mean? She is literate in a world of those unable to read.

But there is more to being a Ramielite than being able to understand the written word. Not only is one of her order able to read, but they can write. They are able to externalize organized thought in a permanent form, excising their shadows and dissecting their thoughts on the printed page. Thus, they exist differently from their fellows. They, in their own fashion, can exist in a world independent of the actual world. They can live in books, reading, thinking, taking notes, and organizing ideas.

Some think that Ramielites get their far away looks because of some potestate they possess. They whisper about a “Cathedral of Thought”, some thought-palace that advanced Engel of the order can visit in an astral way. Others point to the power of Ramielites to speak to others of their order without words, even at great distance (such as Luriel and Jaciel have done from time to time).

I contend there is a greater power all Ramielites share, but there is nothing supernatural about it. This power is the ability to exist in a world populated solely by words and ideas. They are able to crawl into a text and vanish from the ready world outside, soaring and swimming in the eddies of concepts and points.

It is to such a place Luriel vanished as she read with both horror and wonder the work Jaciel brought to her. The adventures of Fra Domenico and his companions were terrifying. Terrifying in their specifics… and even more terrifying in their implications.

SPOILERS!

Domenico had seen the genesis of Dreamseed. They were formed by raw fear, prototypical elements of dread and terror given solid reality in nightmare places at the heart of the Brandlands. She had read of great mother-beasts vomiting the darkness given form. She had read of voices in the darkness whispering their carrion call.

How could one stand against creatures born of human fear? You could not defeat fear. You would have to slay every man woman and child to eliminate fear from the world. These Dreamseed would keep coming forever, and yet they had changed. She remembered from her own studies that the Dreamseed were not as monstrous once, before the ten years of peace. What had happened?

SPOILERS!

The book answered some questions, but left many more unanswered. It left mysteries, and hinted of deep pools of horror lurking in the world around. With a slow dawning, Luriel’s consciousness let her know that she had been reading till nearly dark, and she began to return from the focused state her mind had been in. Normal concerns re-asserted, and she wondered as to how soon Touriel and the others would reach St. Terrels. She wanted to see Adolphus again, and discuss these matters with him. Perhaps he would have words of comfort and succor.

Luriel put her notes and the bound book away, and went in search of news. She had only turned the corner to the main courtyard of the monastery when she saw the answer to her question riding up to the gates of the sanctuary before her eyes. She hurried over to greet the other two members of her Fellowship, and make certain they had arrived safely without harm.

Once tired and feverish Adolphus was comfortably resting in a warm bed, Luriel found the time to speak with Touriel alone. She wasn’t sure how best to approach the Michaelite with the questions burdening her soul, so she decided it was best to try and tell Touriel things as they had happened. Luriel told Touriel that her close friend from her order had visited to help her resolve the riddle from Groten, and that he had brought her a gift of information about the vagaries of Dreamseed from an expert.

Touriel was at first very interested in the idea of answers to the riddle, but upon hearing Jaciel’s words immediately disputed them as rubbish. She claimed they were the suggestions of an Engel who had lived past his reasonable age. His mind was clouded, obviously, by the impurities choking his aging body. These suggestions were not to be trusted or even considered.

Luriel grew angry at this, for she was sensitive to the idea of Jaciel’s age and his imminent ascendance. She felt his opinions were invaluable, and Touriel’s blunt dismissal of the ideas unfair. They argued. Touriel was tired from traveling, Luriel’s emotions were drained from the revelations of the day. Luriel, upset, turned over a new vein in the discussion. Something had frustrated her since the beginning of their journey.

Luriel wanted to know why exactly they were going to Vienna. What was Adolphus supposed to do when he met Thagiel? Why did the focus seem to be so strongly on getting him there safely with no concern for getting him back to Prague when this was over?

Touriel’s face grew increasingly stony as Luriel continued. They breathed heavily, glaring at each other. The tension between the two was palpable. Touriel sighed, and said only this:

“Luriel, I will only tell you this. Adolphus’s mission is to speak with Thagiel. That is the mission as I understand it. I can not, and I will not say one more thing about it. Do you understand?”

Before Luriel could respond the two Engel heard the sounds of a man screaming and glass breaking nearby. The two immediately turned and ran toward the sounds, running directly toward the chambers of the Ab of the monastery. They ran inside, and found the Ab in the corner shaking, the Ab’s assistant on the ground ripped apart and torn, and a third monach cowering in the corner pointing across the room at a broken window.

Luriel ran to the window to see if she could see anything racing away, but saw nothing but the dark courtyard filled with shadows. Touriel saw to the Ab first, helping him to sit up, and then went to the living monach. She asked the shaking man what had happened. Luriel could see the Ab was in no shape to respond to questions, still too lost in the shock of what had happened.

Touriel was able to get the poor monach talking, and he told her what he had seen. Some half-human monstrosity had leapt into the chamber from the shadows, and had tried to reach the Ab. It had strange eyes all over its head, and limbs flailing around its body. It looked like a man, but a man that had been changed by the foul imagination of the Tempter.

The monach described this creature, but also mentioned his hair color and other details about the twisted Tempted. As Luriel listened, her stomach tightened and she knew who it must be. Davrus. He fit the description, at least before the transformation. Was that why he had seemed so changed in his behavior that morning? The odd features this monach described reminded her of the tempted Domenico and his group encountered.

Luriel ran out into the night, certain she had to find Davrus. Could the quiet man she had met only twice truly have become a creature of nightmare? How could that be? She looked around the buildings around her, uncertain of where his domicle would be? What rooms would she find him in, and (please) see him as still a normal shy human.

She found a begine and asked where Davrus’s chamber was. The old woman pointed and told Luriel that Davrus, the keeper of the granary, lived in the building she indicated. As Luriel approached the lightless building, she pondered the woman’s words. Keeper of the granary? Dark thoughts surfaced in her mind.

She pounded on the door, calling Davrus’s name. When no response came, she forced the door open and entered the empty dark. She again called his name, hoping still that she was wrong. He was asleep, a quiet but normal man. Please let the hand of the tempter not have corrupted this man.

With three steps into the hall, a shadowed figure appeared before her at the top of a narrow set of stairs. The form was the right height for Davrus, but something was not right in his outline. It was dark for Luriel to see for certain, but her instincts screamed that something untoward stood before her.

It hissed. Luriel shifted into more of a battle-stance. The thing on the stairs leapt.

Before Luriel could find her blade the two struggled, entangled in arms. She threw the creature from her, and as she rose, the light from outside fell across her face. The thing in the shadows saw her then, and the man inside the darkness opened its eyes (if only part way).

The thing whispered a toothy noise that sounded as if it said “shining one”. Luriel knew the voice. It was the man she knew as Davrus. What had happened to him! It put its arms out to its sides. She still could not see it well in the darkness of the corner it was in, but it was clear it was showing some non-violent indication. There might still be a man inside to speak with, try to save. Could that be possible? Her heart told her it must be possible.

She started to speak to the thing that had been Davrus when she heard Touriel in her head shouting commands.

“Luriel! We have Dreamseed above the walls. Many. Maybe as many as ten! I need you to me now! To me!”

Luriel was shocked. An attack now? Did Davrus’s state have something to do with it? She didn’t want to leave him here in this state, but she couldn’t bring herself to kill him. She decided to try and knock him unconscious by hitting him over the head. She approached him, slowly, trying to calm him. It reacted. It threw its head back and let out an insectoid clicking with a deep moaning howl beneath it. The sound was inhuman and awful.

Luriel heard the noise of fighting above and outside, and in a moment of hesitation, turned and ran outside to join the fight. As she rose above, she was greeted with a horrible vision.

She saw ten large flying beetles in the air, spewing liquid flame on the buildings and people in their path. A small army of Dreamseed reigned death and destruction from the skies, and she flew into the flurry of her Fellowship to slay these monsters or die trying.

[SotDX]

A storm had come, of both natural and unnatural sources. Rain poured from the black-clouded heavens, and winds ripped against the flying Engel. There were dark forms a-flight, and fires were burning all over the monastery. Luriel could see Templars running in every direction, attempts being made at quenching the blazes already gutting some of the structures below her.

Luriel searched the sky for her fellowship, only having caught sight of white wings a few moments before. How many of these creatures could there be? It was not the first moment the Ramielite had been tested in battle, but the force before her was great and the destruction terrifying.

At once the leader of her Fellowship’s words filled her mind, focusing Luriel’s being and directing her. Touriel called for her to fly toward the others, giving her direction and purpose. She did not hesitate to follow those orders, flying bravely into the thick of smoke and flame.

So transfixed she was on reaching her fellows, she almost met her doom.

A flying beetle bore down on her, its form as large as her own, buzzing with great force. She recognized the creature from her study of Domenico’s work. He had coined the term “Firebug” to name its ugly shape. Justly named it was, for as Luriel watched in horror it spit forth a gushing jet of liquid flame in her direction.

Luriel dodged the spew of death, but only barely. She felt the long hair of her head singe as she flew down and under the creature. She swung at it with her blade, but it was uncannily fast for its size and form. She missed with her first swing, and her second did little to it as the blade dented its armored hide. The mouth of the beast grew close on her second pass, almost taking purchase on her own flesh.

As she flew from it, her mind focused and cleared. She must find some way to hurt this creature of the Tempter. Her order possessed a rare gift; with a moment’s concentration she reached into her inner self and sought the nature of this thing’s weakness. What was its bane?

The answer from the depths of her power was not formed in words, but in the language of thought. If spoken aloud the answer would have been formed thusly: cold. This beast was affected by cold. It made sense. It used fire as a weapon, so ice would be its undoing. Still, Luriel reflected, she had no means of cooling this winged fire-spewer that now fled closely behind her, even now preparing again to spit flame.

As she flew through the rain over the burning Monastery, she heard screams from below as a building collapsed. Adolphus. Was he safe? She dared not risk flying to his chambers to see, as the creature behind her would only follow. She would not risk bringing such danger to his door.

Then Luriel caught sight of the water cistern for the Monastery, located atop a wooden tower. Its top was open, and the water inside would be cold, far from the fires below and exposed to the chill of the night.

Luriel wanted to tell Touriel of her plan, to see if she knew if Adolphus was safe, but before words could be shared a scream pierced her thoughts. This scream came not from below, but from within her mind. Only Touriel could speak to her in such a way in the Fellowship! What had happened?

Doubt edged itself into her thoughts. What if the water wasn’t cold enough? It was surely cool, but how cold would be needed to blanch the evil on her heels? But doubt could not be allowed. She flew faster, sparing a look behind to make sure the monstrosity still pursued, and dived towards the top of the tower plunging into the watery depths.

As Luriel swam (no longer flying), she braced herself for the creature’s watery impact. At first there was nothing, a moment of pause that felt as forever. She then saw it spitting its black burning oil over the surface of the water, trapping her. The water did not burn, but its surface was laced with fire. What a fool she had been! It was not following, only trapping her to burn or drown.

She was wrong. It now dove, seeking its prey, impacting the water with force.

It was lost in the water, uncertain of how to move. Its wings beat in the cistern sending it tumbling side over side. Luriel was only somewhat more certain of her footing than the beast, and swam towards it; surer of fighting it now that its fire spew was impossible.

She quickly wounded it, its black blood clouding the water. Still, it was a large beast, and it was beginning to move more effectively in the water. Luriel’s idea had failed, as the water was not cool enough to stop it or truly hurt it. She needed to get out of these close quarters, and yet the fire above still burned on the water’s surface. She would be covered in the thick oil if she tried to swim up.

The Dreamseed began to swim towards her, moving faster and faster. As she readied herself to dodge its assault, she suddenly knew how to escape. She swam backwards, her back hitting the wooden wall of the cistern. She delayed moving, as the black form grew closer. At the last possible moment she swung to her left and the Dreamseed, massive and itself wounded, was unable to stop. It rammed against the wooden wall with enough force to bend and almost break the barrier. The firebug, maddened by its wounds and the cold wet water around it, struggled and bit at the wood, giving enough force to finally break the wall and send it, the water, and the Engel it was trying to kill tumbling out through the side.

Luriel managed to spread her wet wings and stop her descent. When she flew down, she found the Dreamseed had been unable to stop its own fall. It was smashed on the ground below. Luriel stood over the crushed form, half expecting it to rise again and continue to threaten her.

The toothy frog-like voice from behind her had her turn, her weapon drawn.

“You killed it… it served the master, as we all do… it came for me, now in darkness… fear is in one, all one… over one…”

Luriel did not have to look into his eyes (the many eyes) before killing him. She slew him where he stood, cutting the head from his shoulders. No tears left her eyes. This thing that had once been a man had called down this army of foulness to burn everything, including those she loved.

The tempted’s death did not stop the assault, but a part of Luriel’s innocence died with him.

[SotDX]

Kyriel fought with passion and art. Luriel watched her glide in and out of battle, her flaming sword tearing into the enemy. Before Luriel’s eyes, Kyriel fought with all the power and might a Gabrielite can bring to war.

Luriel fought alongside her fellow Engel, slicing her own way through the firebugs. Maethiel’s bow felled the oncoming, and Luriel turned to see Kyriel face down two Dreamseed at once. The creatures rushed her, and Luriel flung herself into the fray trying to help her friend. She managed to fight one off, and together with Maethiel’s true aim the creature plummeted to the ground below.

Luriel turned to see Kyriel finishing the second of the attackers. With a great stroke of her blazing sword, the sacred weapon only Gabrielites were afforded to fight with, she cut in twain the insectoid marauder. Kyriel then met Luriel’s eyes, a smile on her face. They were sisters in battle, two Engel together against the armies of the Lord of the Flies.

The fire surrounded Kyriel then, not from her blade, but from the firebug that had rounded behind her and now sprayed her with its black burning jet. Luriel screamed, unbelieving, as Kyriel’s form was outlined with orange flame, her hair burning, as she dropped. How? Not Kyriel, the warrior, the brave! Luriel threw herself at the offending creature and slashed at it, hacking with her blade, cutting it and fighting it in a rage. It was Maethiel’s sure shot that killed it, but as the creature died the wounds across it were not made by arrow.

Luriel flew down at once, searching for Kyriel. Several monachs and templars were trying desperately to scrape the burning thick fluid from the Gabrielite’s form, but to no avail. She was a blackened mess, the white of her wings gone in the instant of burning death. Luriel stood, tears running from her eyes, the smell of burning flesh overpowering. Luriel fell to her knees, cursing the Tempter and his tools for bringing such evil into the world, for taking Kyriel from the sky.

As she opened her eyes, she became aware of something lying in the wet grass to the right of her knee. Kyriel’s sword! No longer aflame, the sacred weapon lay alone in the grass where it had fallen, blackened skin still clinging to the hilt. She did not think of blasphemy as she picked up this weapon. She did not think of the rules she had been taught as to who could and could not wield such a weapon. As Luriel stood, holding Kyriel’s Gabrielite sword in her hands, she thought of only honor, and carrying her fallen friend’s sword into battle in remembrance of her.

Luriel lifted into the sky, searching the dark above for the last of the Dreamseed attackers. As she caught sight of one spraying a gout of flame over part of the barracks, she readied the large sword in her hands. It was heavier than her small blade, and she was somewhat unsure of its balance. She knew not the art of making it burn, or even if it was possible for the sword to catch fire when not in the hands of its proper masters. Still, it was sharp and strong, and she would use it as best she could.

Below her, unseen, stood a figure in the shadows outside the monastery. He had watched much of the battle, grimacing at the screams of the dying and injured. He wished he could stop the fight, do something to ease the suffering of the innocent caught in the battle. And still he knew that it was impossible. He could not intervene in this struggle. From the dark folds of his cloak he pulled forth a cylindrical shape, and smiled. It was time to set things in motion. For better or worse, there would be no turning back. He pressed a round button on the object he held, and it began to gently glow.

As Luriel closed on the Dreamseed she felt a click in the hilt of the sword. It seemed to flash for a moment, and then the blade began to glow a deep blue. A mist seemed to emanate from the edge of the blade. Before Luriel could stop to see what had happened, the Dreamseed charged her, and she parried its assault with the now glowing blade. The Dreamseed let out a howl, and Luriel was shocked to see where she had sliced it was now frozen. The sword somehow was releasing cold instead of fire. How could this be?

She was able to kill the Dreamseed easily, almost chasing it and slicing twice more. She finished off two more Dreamseed with the blade still as if it was made of ice. Before she killed the last one, she caught side of a strange figure on the edge of the tree-line. He was cloaked, his face hidden in darkness, but in his hands he held something glowing. She turned to fight, and when she returned to investigate, he was gone, as if he had never been there.

With the last Dreamseed killed, Luriel flew down to the grounds, the blade seeming to return to normal with her still unsure how it had become frozen to begin with. She had never in her studies read of a Gabrielite sword reverse its function. They were made to blaze in battle, not freeze. Was it because a non-Gabrielite held it?

Such thoughts and wonders left Luriel’s mind as she landed and began to try and help in the madness below. Many were dead and injured. Much of the lands were burned. She was afraid to ask of her fellows, and busied herself with moving the still living to help and searching the rubble for others not beyond hope.

Upon delivering two injured to the makeshift hospital forming on the grounds, Luriel caught sight of Cassiel, the Raphaelite of her fellowship. She had not seen him since before the battle began, and immediately went to his side. He was bent over a burned monach, struggling to heal the dying man. Luriel could feel the exhaustion coming off of the tired Engel in waves, as it was clear he had placed himself in the thick of the injured, trying to stem the tides of death. He was shaking, perhaps near collapse.

Luriel forced him to sit, to rest. She fetched him water, and held him tightly. It was then that she saw the look in his eyes. The loss. The pain. As he met her questioning gaze, Cassiel began to sob. He put his head in his hands, and told her he had tried. He had done everything in his power to save her, but it was not enough.

Luriel knew he could not be speaking of Kyriel. Not brave mighty Kyriel, so strong, so undefeatable. She was the rock of the Fellowship.

Cassiel said her name, and Luriel at last believed. She could see the grin on Kyriel’s face as the fire took her, surrounded her, and destroyed her. It was not right.

Luriel held tightly to Cassiel’s shoulder, trying to be strong. The weight of Kyriel’s sword pulled her down, but she would not break. She would be strong. Cassiel looked at her, and told her that it was not all. Touriel had fallen as well. She still lived, but she was wounded gravely. Her legs were gone, as the fire had took them when the bug had struck.

Now Luriel crumbled. The two oldest and most experienced of her Fellowship struck down here, still in the lands of the church? They had not yet set foot into the wastelands beyond, and they were brought low now?

She turned away from Cassiel, her doubt and fear growing, and saw Touriel laying on a cot. Her wings were whole, but her legs ended above the knees, burned away in the scorching flame of the Tempter. She would never walk again, never be complete on this earth. What reason was there in this?

Luriel took to the air, escaping the sounds of the dying and the smell of scorched flesh. She flew to Adolphus’s chamber, and gave thanks that the building in which he lodged had survived the assault unburned. She found him in his chamber, trying to dress himself, his hands shaking from the fever that had taken him. He was pale, and his eyes wild.

With some argument, Luriel convinced him to return to his bed, and covered him in blankets. He was sick. She could not bare the loss of him as well, so much already destroyed before her eyes. He began to argue with her once more, about letting him get up and dress to help outside, when he caught side of the new weapon she now carried.

His eyes met hers, with first a question, and then a look of knowing. Luriel began to tell him of what had happened, of how Kyriel had burned, and Touriel brought low. How she had taken up the Gabrielite’s sword. Tears now ran from her eyes, and she clung to her old teacher’s chest as she opened her heart. He listened, as he always had before, and a grim strength came to his feverish eyes.

“Listen, Luriel… what has happened is terrible. But it must not stop our purpose. We must continue on to Vienna, and you must lead us now. There is no other way. You must be strong, and wise.”

Luriel looked up at her nonnus, and nodded. She knew his words to be true. Their mission had come from the Pontifex Maximus Petrus Secundus himself. They could not fail. Not turn back. This was what Adolphus had prepared her for in the time of her training. She would have to lead the others.

The tears drying on her cheeks, she stood before her nonnus.

“I will lead us to Vienna. I will lead us there in safety. I will not see any more of my brethren fall before the force of the Tempter!”

[SotDX]

The sun rose like an old friend. Luriel had spent the rest of the night with Touriel, tending to her, watching over her fallen leader. The Michaelite had never awoke, and mumbled nothing more than grunts of pain and broken words. Luriel once thought she heard Touriel say something about bringing the traitor back, but she was not able to hear it very clearly.

If only she could survive until a skilled Raphaelite could come, perhaps there would be hope. She knew their powers in restoration were great, perhaps even great enough to return her legs to her. But if infection spread, as the wound would be prone to cause, there would be little hope for her.

The Ab, Goethe, had confirmed her suspicions regarding the granary. Poison had been laced into the stores, and little if any would be safe to eat. A hard winter was coming, one in which the monastery and the surrounding villages would suffer. To what purpose did such destruction serve?

Maethiel had spent the night flying around the near lands, watching for signs of more Dreamseed. Luriel caught sight of him as she sat near Touriel, gliding over St. Terrel’s and landing atop the ruined cistern tower. She looked down at Touriel, face still wet with perspiration and pain, and flew up to meet him.

The two sat together, perched atop the highest point in the monastery, and watched as the first light spread over the buildings below, exposing the destruction and damage. A light rain fell, and water still trickled down from the broken side of the container below them.

Luriel then noticed the scrap of ribbon in Maethiel’s hand. It was a fragment of votive cloth Kyriel once proudly wore in battle. Looking at her companion, Luriel could see the pain in his eyes. She imagined that it should not surprise her. He had his own quiet pain over their loss. Perhaps Kyriel meant as much to him as she had to Luriel.

She broke the silence, asking of his flight. He smiled at her, his eyes tired, and told her that no signs of the enemy were nearby. Luriel wondered if Maethiel blamed himself for the loss. She certainly blamed herself- always doubting Touriel’s leadership. A shameful part of her felt that she was solely to blame for bringing destruction down on their Fellowship.

Maethiel put his arm around her, reading her face.

“It’s not your fault, Luriel. I know you blame yourself. You feel that you caused this… that your disloyalty and arrogance brought this darkness down on us.”

Luriel met his eyes with shock. How could he know? It was as if he had looked into her heart, into her secret shame.

“But you are wrong. Listen to me, Luriel. You have always acted in the way you thought was best, fighting strongly and passionately for what you believe to be the right way. There is no crime or sin in that. You did not bring about Kyriel’s death, nor did you cause Touriel’s wounds. Believe me, you have no cause to doubt yourself.”

He put his arms around her, holding her close. Luriel buried her face in his chest, and breathed in the sweet scent of him. He smelled like fresh rain. He didn’t judge her, and gave her the support she needed most desperately. She thanked him, warmth flowing into her from his eyes. She told him what Adolphus has ordered her to do, and he nodded, unquestioning, and pledged his support to her.

Together, the two Engel flew down to find Cassiel, and to make fast the preparations for their journey. They would continue on their way as soon as possible, into the dangerous realms ahead.

[SotDX]

Cassiel had argued at first. His place was with Touriel, their leader. Her health was failing, her life hanging by a thread. He needed to stay with her, to tend to her. To try, if possible, to keep her alive until more help could come.

Luriel firmly told him no. His place was with the Fellowship on the continuation of their sacred task, and despite the loss of two of their members, they must continue. Adolphus was ill, and needed his tending if he was to make it to Vienna. The road ahead was hard, and their Fellowship could not afford to be decreased any further. He would have to come.

Cassiel might have argued further, uncertain as he was as to leaving fallen Touriel, but Maethiel stood firmly beside Luriel, following her lead, adding his strength to her words, and Cassiel relented. They would go. He had already exhausted himself tending to the injured and dying, and there was little more he could do now.

The Ab was not as easy to convince. Of the Templars that had set forth beside the Engel in Prague, only Rythe still lived. His fellow soldiers had died in the fighting the night before, and Luriel requested additional men to strengthen their numbers. She had lost two Engel and three Templars, and she wanted the assurance of additional forces from the Gabrielite Templars stationed at St. Terrel’s.

As said, the Ab was not easy to convince. Instead of granting Luriel what she asked, he instead demanded she provide him the service of her Urielite, Maethiel, to fly north to alert others of the attack and send reinforcements. As to giving her additional forces, he did not even want Rythe to leave with her, as much of his own men had decimated in the attack. If more Dreamseed returned in the night, they would ill be able to defend the fortress.

Luriel would not relent. She did not get more men, but she left with the entire remains of her fellowship and Rythe, the last of her Ramielite Templars. Even with this, the Fellowship was a sad sight as they set south. Adolphus coughed continously, his fever unshaken. Cassiel, too weak to even ride a horse, rode in the wagon unconscious behind the nonnus. Rythe was unwell, not of body, but of spirit. He had seen his fellow Templars cut down before his eyes, fighting the scourge from the sky. They had been good men. Men he cared for as brothers.

In lead of the party, Maethiel and Luriel rode ahead, leaving the green land on the border of Engelitic territory into the wastelands before Austria. The land ahead would be rocky grassless plains, and make passing slow and unpleasant. Still, they pressed forward, their focus on the goal ahead- distant Vienna.

Continuing into the hilly dry lands, Luriel marveled at her ill nonnus. Despite his feverish state, he was still the teacher she loved. He managed to rouse Cassiel, bring him from his shock over seeing nearly half the Fellowship decimated, and encouraged him to drive the wagon. Seeing Cassiel learn something new, and Adolphus’s eyes light at the teaching of a new craft made Luriel’s own spirits rise.

Luriel found a moment to speak with Rythe, and tried her own hand at easing pain. He spoke of the fallen men left behind, of their courage in battle, and the purity of their spirit. It was the hope of all Templars to earn the right to be reborn as Engel when they died, and Luriel assured him that his fellows had surely earned that gift. Her words meant the world to him, and she could see that in his face.

After some time riding into the lands between, the sky started to darken. It was not yet late afternoon, but instead dark clouds gathering. It appeared as a storm forming around them. The wind would be strong in these open rocky lands, so some shelter was needed, and soon. Adolphus was also weakening, so they began to look around for a possible cave or other natural site for making camp.

It was Maethiel, with his far seeing eyes, who caught sight of the cabin first. Ahead, hard to see in the dimming light, was a small house surrounded by tilled fields. Several scarecrows darted the landscape, in vain hope of preventing ever-present crows from feasting on the rare food available in this land. It appeared some lonely soul inhabited this land between, and with no small sense of urgency the group moved hopefully to the shelter ahead.

Something felt wrong to Luriel. Something about the image before her nagged at her mind… the lone house surrounded by fields in an area empty of other sites. She was not sure what, but she decided caution was the order of the moment. She ordered Rythe and Maethiel to ride up to the house first, to make sure it was safe. The others would stay by the fields, a small distance away.

As the Engel and Templar neared the house, Luriel seized on what bothered her about this vista. In Domenico’s book, the author had encountered a setting just as this. And the scarecrows… the scarecrows had not been as they appeared! She knew that Maethiel and Rythe would be set upon by the scarecrows they were about to pass, but they were to far away to yell to in the high wind now blowing as the storm churned. If only she had Touriel’s Michaelite gifts for speaking to her fellows. (Was it blasphemy to wish such?)

She decided to take to the air, trying to warn them by sight if not sound. As she prepared to fly, spreading her wings, two of the creatures Domenico had named scares leapt from the surrounding fields and attacked. Luriel pulled forth Kyriel’s sword and swung at them, silently asking the lord to forgive her blasphemy in continuing to wield a weapon she should not. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Cassiel himself fighting one of the long-bladed creatures, wielding his twin scythes as best he could.

As she fought her two attackers, she heard the wagon’s horses galloping, the racing back the way they had come. Adolphus was trying to escape from these mantis-like attackers.

Luriel slew the two attacking her, but not before being sliced down her side by one of the creature’s bladed legs. Cassiel still fought his own. She turned and with horror saw Adolphus’s wagon turned on its side fifty feet down the path, adjacent to the fields. She could see Adolphus struggling to get up still trapped in the wagon, and a large scare creeping along on top, preparing to feast on the man’s flesh.

It was too far. Even if she flew as fast as she could, she would never reach the wagon in time to stop the scare from killing him. It was impossible. Her mind could see that. But regardless, she jumped into the air and flew as fast as she could, trying to reach them before the blades would descend on her trapped nonnus. She prayed that one of Maethiel’s arrows would miraculously fly past her and stop the creature.

She watched the scare leap from the top of the wagon, its descent directly aimed at her nonnus, still struggling to free himself. There would be no hope. No miracle.

The scare exploded in the air, its body flying in hundreds of pieces. A loud crack filled the air, an explosion of sorts, hard and quick. What had happened? The scare was destroyed. A miracle had come.

Luriel landed next to the struggling nonnus, still uncertain of what had happened. A strange smell filled the air, almost of a burning metal. Before she leaned down to pull Adolphus from his prison, she caught sight of a dark haired man rising from the field. He held in his hands a large device, from which smoke drifted. He held it in both hands, his face a mystery, his eyes dark. The weapon, which Luriel imagined must be some kind of gun, was pointed directly at her. She still held her sword (Kyriel’s sword) up, and she met his gaze. Did he mean her harm? Would he fire?

He said one word.

“Duck!”

She did not question his intent, and dived for the ground. There was a great thundering crack and roar, and the scare that had been but upon her from behind was sent backwards in pieces. This man had saved her life.

[SotDX]

Shelter was sought from the storm once the last of the scares had been slain. The Fellowship moved their goods inside, stabling the horses. Adolphus had twisted his leg, but other than this slight injury, he was unhurt. The reason for his well-being was welcomed into the shelter of the house, but watched with caution.

The man introduced himself as Ian Longwalke. He was a traveler returning to Vienna, and had happened upon their situation. At first, he admitted, he had simply watched when the scares attacked, curious to see the warrior Engel in battle. His hand was forced, though, when the old man was at risk of being hurt. He told the gathered Fellowship he would not stand by and watch a man die, even if he was a priest.

This had a distressing effect on the group. By his own admittance, the stranger had stood by to take sport in watching the attack on them by the creatures, only choosing to act at the last moment. Luriel, though, admitted to herself in the same situation she might have acted no different, curious to see the skills of her enemy. More off-putting was the way he spoke of a “priest”, almost spitting the words out. It was clear he was a heretic, and had no love for the Church. And yet… he had helped them. He had saved Adolphus’s life.

Luriel thanked him for his actions, and tried to assert control over her group. Adolphus was laid to rest, and provisions checked for damage. Cassiel and Luriel both had wounds on them from the blades of the scares, and they needed tending to. Cassiel healed Luriel’s cut, but was unable to heal his own injuries. Ian stepped forward, offering to help. He provided strange bandages with a form of cover on their underside. He explained to Luriel they were adhesive, and had an antiseptic fluid embedded in them to keep the wound clean. He unrolled a portion and tended to Cassiel’s wound.

He had set his weapon behind him as he tended to Cassiel, and Luriel walked over to it, half watching the bandaging. She had read of such guns, but to see their power and force directly had made quite an impression. Such power! She reached for his gun to touch it, and examine it, which made Ian start. He smiled at Luriel, nodding his permission, but first removed some chamber from its base.

“Let me take the ammunition out first, if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want you to blow your pretty head off, my dear woman.”

Luriel was startled. He called her a woman? Rythe and Mathiel both stepped forward angrily. The Urielite called out to the stranger, angered at his heresy and affront to Luriel’s Engelitic nature. To profane her by treating her as a human!

Luriel raised her hand to the others, shaking her head.

“It’s alright. He didn’t mean any offense, did you Ian?”

Ian bowed his head to her, answering that he hadn’t. Unfortunately, Mathiel was still furious and strangely protective of Luriel. She sensed he was uncomfortable with Ian’s presence in a way she had not seen from him before. She suggested Rythe and Mathiel start a fire to warm the house, hoping to prevent the tension from growing.

Both assented to her request, but Mathiel’s eyes betrayed his dislike for Ian. Mathiel gathered wood for the fire as Rythe tried to start it with flint. Ian stepped over to him, slowly, in an almost gingerly fashion. He seemed aware that hostility was present in the air directed at him. He nodded to Rythe, and produced a metal rod.

“Allow me.”

With a click of his thumb a flame was produced from the end of the object, and he lit the dry wood in the fireplace. Rythe asked him what the device was, to which Ian replied (with a quizzical look) “a lighter”.

Ian stepped back over to Luriel, and watched her examine the gun. He told her of its function, noting her strong curiosity as to its workings. He explained how there were many different kinds of gunworks, and this kind produced a strong force but only over a short distance. Ian’s Latin was not perfectly clear, but Luriel understood the gun to be called “a gun of shot”.

Ian Longwalke was many things. Luriel found him charismatic, fascinating, and dangerous. As the storm raged outside, they spoke together at once as old friends, a warmth between them. Cassiel rested, Rythe watched out the windows, and Mathiel fumed. Adolphus listened to their conversation, something closing his eyes. Perhaps he remembered things in his past that this reminded him of?

It was clear that Ian Longwalke had no love for the Church. In one instance he even spoke harshly of the Pontifex, but immediately apologized if he had offended. He spoke to Luriel as if she was no Engel, but a normal human being. There was no reverence in his eyes. He treated her as a person, not a distant unreachable thing. He seemed to see them as simply accomplished children with wings.

He asked Luriel and her friends why they were traveling south, and Luriel considered keeping it a secret. She decided Ian could be a great asset to them, and told him they were traveling to Vienna just as he was. She informed him they had been invited by Viktor Constance.

Ian’s face lit then with a dashing smile and he laughed. He told them he served the court of Constance, and he would be more than happy to aid them in reaching Vienna without further incident. Rythe and Cassiel had at this point warmed to the stranger, infected by his charm and (apparent) honesty. Mathiel, though, cleared his throat at this suggestion.

Luriel asked Ian what Viktor was like. He paused to think of how best to reply, and answered as best he could.

“Viktor is a fair and just man. Fate has been cruel to him on occasion, and that has left its marks. If he has any weakness, my liege has suffered under a bit of a cult of personality. As I said, he is a good and just man. I’m sure he will treat with you fairly.”

The storm did not abate until late into the night, and it was decided they would spend the evening in the house before setting forth in the morning. While the others were outside, Luriel took a moment to speak to Adolphus and seek his opinion on the stranger and his offer to help them. He warned her to be guarded with him, but thought his help could be invaluable in their journey. There were in an alien land where the customs where anathema to what they knew. Adolphus held her hand, and told her to remember the danger of heretic thoughts.

“They can worm their way into your mind, corrupting you in ways you will not see till it is to late. Be on guard, child.”

With preparations for the distant morning made, all but Mathiel were to turn in and rest. He would guard over them in the night, watching for the return of the Dreamseed or other dangers. He watched with a growing jealousy as Luriel and Ian talked further into the night.

Ian seemed full of questions about what Luriel thought of the Engelitic world. He did not make challenges to her beliefs, or suggest heretical notions. Instead he asked questions. Questions that Luriel herself had struggled with in her own moments of doubt. He was well informed. He knew the history of the Church, and the original reason the Engel were called to earth. He reminded her that they were not brought forth to fight the Dreamseed, but the heretics and nonbelievers.

Luriel drifted to sleep with these questions on her mind. She had given answers to this stranger, Ian Longwalke, answers to his questions that came from her own teachings. Those answers had always left her hungry for more, and in re-telling them to Ian, she found them even more hollow than ever before.

Sleep found her then, but it was not an easy sleep, fret with dreams and fear.

[SotDX]

Ian Longwalke watched the sleeping Engel. The one who was supposed to be on guard had even drifted off. What discipline! But, he thought, they were children with wings. What could one expect from them? They did have their powers, and the gift of flight, but he wondered at what madness it was to entrust such responsibility and purpose to children. Then again, he mused, the Church itself was led by a child, just as them.

Except that child did not age.

He planned to drift off to sleep himself, but heard muttering from above. It was unclear what the winged Urielite was saying in his sleep. Luriel, the quite attractive young Ramielite laying near him, was also sleeping restlessly. He felt somewhat awkward in his interactions with her so far. She seemed to want to be treated as an adult, and yet not as merely a human being. His instinct was to see her as a precocious girl, more advanced than normal of her years.

He had lied to her. He had told her he had never spoken with Engel before. In fact, he had been active in Engelitic lands many times in the past. He had even been to Prague, the city where the girl came from. He had lied to put her at ease, and it seemed to have worked. She was different from most of the Engel he had encountered or knew of. She seemed to have a curiosity unfiltered by proscription and dogma.

He leaned back, closing his eyes, and wondered what she would think of Vienna and its “heretic” ways. Sleep took him with a smile on his face.

Luriel was not smiling. Her face was a growing mask of apprehension and fear. She was deep within turbulent dreams, worrisome fears of shadow and anxiety. In those dreams she relived the fight above St. Terrell’s, and watched again and again as her fellow Engel were cut down. In this nightmare not only Kyriel died, but Cassiel and Mathiel were burned in the black fires of the Tempter. Touriel, legless, dragged herself away from the oncoming evil. The tempted, Davrus, tore her head from her body, chortling in his hideous deformity.

She turned from these images, terrified. She could hear Hoffman’s voice taunting her…

"I will spare you for no reason if not this; I could have been you, you could have been me."

The books burned around her, and she screamed as this time she burned with them. He did not spare her in this vision. She burned, a sacrifice to the one he served.

Then, in her quiescent torments, a voice broke through to her. It was old and wise, and it’s coming felt as a gentle breeze of warm summer air. With its touch, the fear and terror fell away from her.

“Beware the Night Children. They will want to devour you, but the way is not.”

In her dreams, Luriel searched for the voice. It was a comfort in the horror she had dreamed, but it faded as it had come. She was left, shaking, facing a final image. Before her was Adolphus, more sick and weak. He coughed and choked, his phlegm restricting what little air he could breathe in. She watched his feverish pale face as he died a victim of the stresses of the trip. She knew then, in some way beyond all knowing, that he would die before the journey ended.

Luriel awoke, the first rays of sunlight penetrating through the windows. The storm had abated, and Mathiel had already begun to gather their things. None of the others were awake yet. She turned to look at Adolphus, and watched his labored breathing. She would not let him die.

[SotDX]

Ian Longwalke had noticed Luriel’s restless eyes and the uncertainty she felt as they prepared to set forth. After considering better of it, he decided at last to ask her of her nightmares. She was at first upset to be asked of her dreams, but decided he was merely concerned.

She told him only that she had seen no small amount of awful sights the past few days, and they had caught up to her in her rest. Even Engel, when they sleep, could have nightmares. He expressed his sorrow for the painful sights which troubled her, and commented to her (mostly) innocently that she was not alone in experiencing troubled sleep.

He told her that her look-out, the Urielite (whose name he had not yet learned) had also had nightmares. Luriel was surprised, if only that Mathiel would sleep when he was to have been guarding them. She thanked Ian for telling her, but made nothing more of it in front of him.

It was with some difficulty that they began again on the road, as they had trouble with the wagon. It had been damaged when it overturned, but it was not discovered until it was almost loaded. Rythe and Mathiel were able to brace the weakened axle well enough that they thought it would suffice until a more thorough repair could be performed.

Adolphus looked worse, coughing and moving slowly. As Cassiel was still suffering from his blade wound, Mathiel helped Adolphus onto the wagon and rode with him. Luriel offered Ian one of their horses and they at last set forth.

Luriel took a turn in the wagon with Mathiel, and while Adolphus slept behind them, she asked him about the night before. She was honest, and told him what Ian had said to her. He was angry, and denied the claim. He had been awake the entire night! Mathiel told Luriel he thought Ian was lying to suit his own purposes, whatever they might be. He went on to say he did not trust Ian, and felt his help would be a danger to them. Vileness came through in his words in how much he despised the heretics and nonbelievers.

All this was unlike Mathiel. He was no zealot. Luriel felt he was the most human of their fellowship, the most able to speak with people on a common level. Seeing him express such disgust for a human just because of his beliefs was unexpected. Still, she decided she would believe Mathiel over Ian, and pondered what purpose was served by Longwalke’s lie.

After some thought, Luriel again took to her horse, leaving Mathiel to brood. She rode next to Ian, and tried to decide how best to sound his thoughts. She wanted to know if he was truly a threat to her fellowship or not. What verbal trick could she use to sound out his hidden motives?

As she pondered, Ian turned to her and touched her cheek gently with his finger. Her shock at his act was complete. He had the audacity to touch her! She turned to him with furious eyes. Before she could let loose with angry words, he pulled his hand back and bowed his head.

“I see I have offended you yet again. Forgive me. You looked so troubled there, and in the morning sun you were quite beautiful.”

She did not know what to say. Yes, Engel were beautiful, but his action was inexcusable. Fixing her hard gaze on him, she demanded to know why he thought it would be acceptable to touch an Engel. He looked confused, and answered.

“I’ve seen you touch each other before. I did not know it was a crime. Again, I apologize most sincerely.”

Her temper faded, as his apology seemed sincere, as his befuddlement. He honestly did not see how Engel touching one another was different than a mortal human touching a divine being. She sighed, and forgave him his trespass.

He told her that he usually found Engel cold an aloof, alien in their own way. She, on the other hand, had a warmth and vitality. That is why he felt she was beautiful. She was flattered, but uncomfortable with his praise.

Before any other liberties could be taken or wraths unleashed, Ian stopped his horse and called to them that the outer fringes of the free city of Vant was close. He suggested that the Engel cover their wings and natures under cloaks while within the city proper. Ian explained that while Constance had welcomed them to his domain, this city was somewhat provincial and hard questions would be asked by townsfolk and constable alike if a troupe of Engel were to ride into town. Subtlety and subterfuge were his suggested tact.

Rythe nodded to Luriel, signifying he thought the idea held merit. Luriel looked at her brethren, and proceeded to pull cloaks from their stores on the wagon for all Engel. Rythe also was covered, as he wore armor clearly signifying him as a Ramielite Templar.

With such disguises in place, the group rode into the town. Luriel was surprised. It could have easily been any small Engelitic village. The people lived hard lives, still far from any center of population. They did not seem as suspicious of strangers as perhaps those in Groten, but they also did not seem as friendly. As she rode into town, the great noticeable difference was the lack of a central church in the village. She wondered, was there any religion or belief in these lands? Was it devoid of spirituality?

She thought of asking Ian the question, but decided to stay quiet. These people around, who seemed disinterested at the moment, might turn on them if they knew Engel were present. The questions Ian had asked her the night before returned to her. Had the Engel really been summoned hundreds of year past to fight people such as this? Was it so awful to have non-believers live a life of their own? Dogma answered: such people caused the floods and plagues that destroyed much of the world. All must believe. Still, she could not imagine her brethren called in the days before Dreamseed attacking people such as this.

Ian led them through the city, stopping at last before a large inn. He jumped down from his horse, and said he would go inside to make arrangements with the innkeeper for them to stay. He asked if they had brought funds to pay for their stay, to which Rythe nodded. With a silent look of confirmation from Luriel, the Templar went inside with Ian.

The Engel stood together, and Adolphus slept. It was nearly dark, and they were all tired from the day’s ride. It would be a joy to sleep in a safe place, away from the risk of battle. Cassiel, his wound still itching, scolded himself for dreaming wistfully of the warm baths and clean places in his Himmel in Gratianopel. He was tired of the journey, and often felt he was little help to his brethren.

It was Mathiel who noticed the stranger approaching from the alley. He wore a garb that almost appeared as a uniform, and had a medallion affixed to his chest. He introduced himself as the constable of the city, and wanted to know what business the travelers had in Vant. He was armed with a small gun. Luriel was not sure what a “constable” was, but she sensed he was a representative of the Diadoche who ruled the city from Vienna. Luriel bowed to him, not certain what would be appropriate. Before she could say anything, Adolphus sat up in the wagon, and started to mutter about Thagiel.

Things could have gone wrong, but Ian and Rythe returned at that moment. Ian stepped up to the Constable, and explained to him that these were paying customers of the services provided in the good city of Vant, and that they would be no trouble to him or his men. The mention of coin seemed to ease the steel in the constable’s eye, and he nodded and walked away.

Rythe informed Luriel that rooms had been prepared for them. Luriel sensed something was bothering Rythe, but he started to unload their goods before she could discover what. As it turned out, she had a separate room to herself. Ian Longwalke, of course, had a room to himself. The rest of the Fellowship, though, were to share a larger room. Luriel did not understand why she was to sleep separate from the others. She wished to sleep with her brethren, as was her custom.

Ian gently explained to her that to the eyes of those in the city, she was a girl of near enough age that it was inappropriate for her to sleep with men in the room. If she was to pass as a non-Engel, she had to play the part. She was not amused by this, and argued, but finally relented when Cassiel agreed it was best.

Once Adolphus was resting comfortably and the supplies and horses were put away, Ian suggested they acquire some nourishment at one of the fine taverns nearby. Luriel, tired as she was, thrilled at the idea of seeing the city. There was some risk, but if they kept to the shadows and were careful, their true identities would stay unknown. She thought it was best if only some of them go, and Cassiel immediately opted to stay. He was exhausted, he told them, and his cut was driving him mad. He would stay behind to watch over sleeping Adolphus and perhaps tend to him if he could.

Luriel agreed, thinking the rest of the group would go, but Mathiel also declared his disinterest in going. He was reluctant to go out, and almost seemed sullen to her eyes. She tried to convince him to come, but ultimately decided it was best that more stay than go.

Luriel, Rythe, and Ian set forth into the night to fetch food and drink. Luriel found the city livelier than it had been before the sun had set. It was dark, but some kind of gas streetlamps lit the corners. Many people walked to and fro in the cold dark, and one group in particular puzzled Luriel.

She had seen only one of them on the way in, but now several had gathered in the dark corners in certain spots on the street. She thought of them as painted ladies, for their faces were adorned with garish paint which exaggerated their natural features. They stood on the corners as if waiting for something, though she had no idea what.

A question about them died on her lips when she saw a man walk up to one of them. It was as if they taunted the men who walked by. Then the man who had walked vanished into the shadows with one of the ladies. Luriel waited, watching, curious as to what would happen. Ian and Rythe walked on, not realizing at first that she had fallen behind them. As they returned, they asked her what was wrong. She bade them to wait a moment, and watched intently.

She could see nothing of the alley the two had vanished into. Perhaps they had left to go somewhere together? But no, as if in answer, the two re-emerged from the shadows. The man walked away and the woman resumed her place against the same wall. It appeared she adjusted her clothing, though Luriel was unsure.

She finally turned to her companions and asked them what was the nature of the painted women? Rythe could not answer. Ian delicately put his arm around Luriel, and told her the women sold something the men wanted. Luriel demanded to know what that something was. Ian told her he would not say, and turned to Rythe. Rythe, who Luriel felt was always helpful and ready to answer her questions, turned red-faced and looked back at Ian with an expression that Luriel did not understand. It was as if they shared some private joke at her expense, and she was not pleased. Not pleased at all.

Luriel decided to take matters into her own hands, and proceeded to walk across the street and ask one of the women directly. She had made it halfway when she heard the scream.

It is an Engel’s call to protect man, and whether that man be in a heretic land or not, it is not easy for an Engel to resist the call. This was a woman’s scream, a sound of desperate fear in the face of death. Without a thought as to where she was Luriel raced down an alley in the direction of that cry for help.

She found herself at the door to a small hovel. Inside, in the small light of a single lantern, was a painted woman lying on the ground and a man hunched over her. His upturned face was half-lit by the lantern’s light, but the face she saw dripped with crimson blood.

The skin on the man’s face was dried and white, with the countenance of one ten days dead. Luriel threw off her cloak so as to fight the beast before her. It was no Dreamseed she had seen or read of before, but she would be damned if she would let it pass her. Before her eyes the blood on its chin seemed to be absorbed into its flesh. Its skin became less leathery, and color blossomed. Luriel extended her wings out, and the beast before her seemed to recoil in recognition.

It put its hands up, and spoke!

“Angel, do you still respect the compact of ages past?”

Its voice was strange and foul, the accent unfamiliar. Luriel did not know what madness it spoke of. What compact? It recognized her as an Engel, and yet she had no idea what it was. Still, the dead woman lying at the feet of this creature reminded her of her clear purpose. It must die.

Luriel cursed herself for leaving the Gabrielite sword in the room at the inn, but pulled forth her short sword. She moved forward, weapon ready. The creature was fast, faster than she had imagined for a thing that appeared days dead. It flung Luriel into the wall with great force. As Luriel impacted the wall, she heard the familiar blast of Ian’s gun, and saw a hole appear in the chest of the fiend. It still did not stop, and started to move toward the entrance to the hovel. Rythe jumped at it, trying to slow it, but the beast overpowered him and moved as to bite into him.

Luriel shouted out, trying to get up and stop the death of another of her fellowship. She called out “NO” and the beast paused. It was as if her order had affected it somehow, keeping it from biting into Rythe’s neck. Instead, the beast threw Rythe’s body to the side and fled into the night.

Luriel hurried to Rythe, and found him unconscious but alive. Ian stood by the two, his weapon reloaded and ready if it should return to make a second attack. Neither knew what that creature had been, but both were certain they did not want it to return.

As Luriel roused Rythe, she pondered the dead thing’s words. What compact? What was such a creature? Could it have been something other than a Dreamseed?

[SotDX]

Luriel sat in her chamber alone. She had not slept in a room to herself since Groten, and that had been an eventful night lacking in much rest. It felt strange and foreign to be separated from her fellowship in rest.

They had returned from the encounter with the blood-drinker without further incident. Ian thought it was best to get off the streets after he had fired his weapon. He had been concerned the noise would cause investigation, especially after the dead woman was found. In the still quiet of her room, Luriel had only her thoughts to ponder.

She was concerned over her Fellowship. She had sworn to keep them together, and not lose another, and yet she felt they were splintering. Mathiel seemed forlorn, removed and distant. He would barely speak to her when they returned, other than to show some concern for Rythe. He seemed uncomfortable in Vant, and uneasy.

Then there was Cassiel. She loved him, but she had to admit he was weak. He did not possess the pride or strength most Engel had at their core. She could tell he doubted himself, and she worried for him. He would need to be strong in the days ahead, and she felt he was weakening instead. He had been so affected by the loss of Touriel and Kyriel.

Luriel leaned back on the unturned sheets, and closed her eyes, trying to rest and meditate. She heard the hooves of a horse clop by on the street outside, and people laughing somewhere. Rest. Sleep.

She drifted off, her eyes closing as sleep took her.

The sun was very bright. Luriel covered her eyes before it, squinting as she felt herself rocked back and forth gently. She stood on a large boat in a golden sea. Stranger than her location, was her form. She had no wings, and was not an Engel. She stood there on the deck of this ship as a human girl. Odder still, she felt calm, comfortable with this fact. It felt natural.

The sun was bright in the cloudless sky, off to one side. Clear in the sky, despite the sun’s presence, were twin moons. One moon seemed as the moon she knew from the sky above the clouds, but the other was different. It was bronze colored, and seemed somehow artificial, as if cities lined it. How could a moon be man-made?

The gentle rock of the boat lowered her vision and she looked out over the golden waters. Cast amid the gentle waves were flotsam and jetsam of lost ages. She saw columns, clocks, rubble and bits of stairs floating in the waves. In a way of knowing, she knew the detritus of past ages drifted on this dream sea.

Luriel then heard music, a soft tinkling of chords, almost metallic but with harmony. There was an open hatch into a cabin in the front of the ship, and with slow steps Luriel went towards the sound. Going into the cabin down a short set of steps, she found herself before a wooden door with a name painted on it: Maetoth. The music came from behind the door. Still with no fear or sense of worry, Luriel opened the wooden door and stepped inside.

Before her sat an old man with a grandfatherly face, working on a strange contraption of gears and wires. He had a large wooden table before him, and many peculiar clock-work objects dotted the room, both before him on the table and on the walls. A box with a moving disc on it with indentations that seemed to be picked up by an arm produced the music that had lured Luriel to the chamber.

The old man looked up at Luriel with kind eyes, and asked if she wanted some tea? Luriel sat down before him, feeling both amused and puzzled by the strange figure before her, and he produced a cup filled with a warm sweet-smelling liquid. He set the drink before her, accompanied by a cylindrical object. Luriel recognized the object at once. It was the glowing device she had seen the night Kyriel’s sword had turned frozen in her hands. Was this man the cloaked figure she had seen at the edge of the woods? Did this device have some power over the sword?

She raised her head to ask these questions, but the old man stopped her. He put his finger to his lips, and shook his head. This was not why he had brought her here. She knew this, though she did not know how.

“We have spoken before, Luriel. Or at least I have spoken to you.”

He chuckled to himself, and Luriel realized his voice was the one that had warned her the night before of the Night Children. She knew, at that moment, that the creature she had encountered in Vant was one of these Night Children.

“Winged dreamer, I have called you here to speak with me. I tried to warn you about the Night-Children, but it is difficult… most difficult to speak in such ways. Perhaps you can trust me?

You are right to doubt that they are Dreamseed. They do serve the Fear Lord in their own way, if not directly. They are very long lived… these parasites, but they can be destroyed. Fire is a very effective means to an end.”

He grinned, as if to a private joke, and tinkered again with his clock-work toy. Luriel sat, wondering what to say. The sense of unreality began to wash over here, and the sense of naturalness that had calmed her before eroded. She was dreaming, but was there more to this? There had to be.

“You will meet the thrice-tempted soon, and the triple-star will be yours. It will change you, and you will learn much. The first thing you need to know is who you are… not what you are. What you are will come later. You must prepare yourself for the tidings in the North. The Fear-Lord is not growing weaker, but stronger. The infernos will not cease in their advance, and they may possibly quicken in the days to come. I tell you this not to make you despair, but you need to realize the nature of these dying days.”

Luriel met his eyes, eyes that seemed to shimmer with age, and listened.

“Answer these questions I put to you, and you will step forward on the path you must take.

A murderer’s scrawl- a hateful jest? Or truth in wings unburned with ink? To know thy self, the gift of divinity, but a key to power in science?

Look to the Eternal child, old father-church, a final dance before clockwork death.

First, what is the answer to the riddle of the ink? Why does your friend Jaciel think the church is more fearful of sending Engel-kind into harm’s way?

Second, what is the nature of the Engel? This is the what of your being. Learn the truth of what you are.

Third, who serves the church and who fights it? Your Pontifex, eternal child, has an old secret. Learn it.

Fourth, and last, meet the thrice tempted and the triple star with change—though learning it will bring pain.

Answer these questions and perhaps you will be ready to pierce the mysteries of what really is truth and fiction in our old world. Perhaps if not that, you might at least gain a chance of surviving this new one.”

Luriel blinked, confused. Some of what he said she could understand, but she was lost on much of it. She opened her mouth to talk but he held his hand up.

“I have said enough for now. Save your questions for the answers you will have within. Go now, my Engel of the Cause.”

With these last words said, Luriel found herself awake in her bed-chamber, the hour still night. She was lost in the words. What did it mean?

[SotDX]

Luriel sat contemplating the words of the questions Maetoth had given her in her dream. Could she trust words such as these? He could be an agent of the Tempter. Some of his words seemed poisonous, just as Adolphus had warned Ian’s ideas might be.

Still, she considered, they gave her pause to think. The first question had been about what she had found in Groten, the riddle written in a child’s blood by Hoffman. How did Maetoth know what she had found? Had he been watching her, even then? She had not seen him until the attack at the Gabrielite Monastery, but perhaps he had been following her. Then again, if he could walk in dreams, perhaps he could see her from afar.

The riddle in the dark had to do with the sacred ink used in the marking of Engel. Jaciel had suggested that there was some shortage in the ink, but he was not sure why. How could there be a shortage of the holy markings that came from the creator himself?

The second question was odd. He suggested there was something more to what Luriel was than she already knew. But she was Engel. What more was there to it? Why suggest science was a key to power? She was a divine creature, and science had no part in her existence or form.

His next words chilled her. “Look to the Eternal child, old father-church, a final dance before clockwork death.” Was he suggesting the Church would fall? It was the last bastion of humanity in this world, and it was a terrible thought to think of its dissolution. She pondered on his mention of the Eternal child, clearly a reference to the Pontifex, the unaging patriarch of the Church. Perhaps he meant if the Pontifex should fall, the entire Church would fall. Could that be? Surely one man’s fall would not cause the foundations of the world to crumble. Then again, she thought, they had had no other leader in the centuries of the Church’s rule. In many ways, the Pontifex was the Church.

But what secret did Maetoth refer to about Petrus Secundus? The history of the Pontifex Secudnus was known and well recorded.

Finally Luriel considered what Maetoth had said about the thrice-tempted, the name many used for Thagiel, the renegade Engel. She did not know what to make of his words. She was pleased by his statement “the triple-star will be yours”. It gave hope to her mission, for surely Maetoth meant that Thagiel would return with Adolphus to Prague. If that came to pass, their mission would be a success. She said a prayer, asking such to be the case.

It was then that she saw a light through her window, attracting her immediate attention. It was late into the night, and much of the illumination outside had been extinguished. This was a bright light, unexpected in the dark hours of the night. As Luriel walked to the window, she felt a gust of wind blow past her, and yet the room was sealed. The light then came into her room, a shining radiance passing through the glass and coming directly to her.

Before she could react, she was no longer in her room. She was in a dark wet place, somewhere deep underground. Voices in the darkness spoke to her, but she felt evil in their words. She moved away from them, resisting the call to listen to their urgings. A light flickered ahead of her, a gentle shine not unlike that which she had seen in her chamber moments before.

Luriel walked towards the light, and found herself in a small chamber standing over a metal case which glowed. It was the source of the warmth and light which filled her eyes and enveloped her. The light pulsed, and she felt words in the pulsing of the light. With a voice she had not heard since her first moment on earth, a being that could have only been the Archangel Jeramiel spoke to her. The voice told her she must find this object from the time before. This could defeat the Dreamseed.

With these thunderous words echoing in the darkness, Luriel feeling their rumble at her core, the darkness faded, and she found herself again in her bed-chamber. There was no spectral light, and she was unharmed. Unlike her vision with Maetoth, this had been no dream. She had been awake, and been contacted… contacted by the Archangel of her order!

She would have to find the case, wherever it might be. If there was a hope it could play a role in finally defeating the Tempter and his minions, then she must do it. The Archangel had shown her this hope, and she would not fail him.

[SotDX]

In the light of morning, Luriel had reflected on her eventful night. Archangel’s were not known to speak with the Engel of their order directly, save when the newly enfleshed Engel had first arrived from Heaven. The Ab was the sole interface for Engel and Archangel. It was no small thing that Jeramiel should choose to speak with her.

She decided it would be best to keep this vision a secret from her brethren, at least for the moment. There was much on their minds, and the Archangel had chosen her alone for this message. Perhaps she could tell them of it soon. She had no idea where the dark cave would be, but she trusted she would find it in time.

Ian surprised her as she left her room. He said he wanted to speak with her regarding the events of the previous night, and that he had learned something of the creature. Longwalke told her of ruins discovered in a newly opened cave not far outside of the city of Vant. It had only been opened three weeks past, in that time there had been many bloodless bodies found in the dark parts of the city at night. Only a few had connected the two events, as most accounted the dead to be signs of Dreamseed lurking in the ever-present shadows.

He played with Luriel with this bit of news, for he had seen the curiosity which burned within her. At the mention of a cave with pre-flood ruins her eyes grew interested, and he delighted in slowly telling her more. The Diadoche, Viktor Constance, had been notified of the finding, but it would be weeks before anyone official investigated. There would be no guards there or danger of discovery… if one should want to explore.

Luriel listened intently, her mind already depicting the dark place in the cave Ian described, including the case she had been tasked to recover. Ian then said something that disturbed her.

“Luriel, I imagine you were the sort in your Himmel who always struggled to get access to the forbidden books in the back of the library. You would be the type that would never be satisfied with the word no.”

He was right. She had grown more and more frustrated with the barriers erected around certain knowledge, and her time in the Himmel had been one of increasing aggravation. Perhaps she did ask too many questions. Still, she did not want to let on that Ian was correct.

“I have no idea of what you speak of, Ian. I must speak with my Fellowship now. I shall see you again soon when we have decided our business for today.”

As she walked away, trying her best to hide any signs that Ian had ruffled her feathers, he only leaned against a wall and smiled. He found her fascinating, if naïve. Sadly, he thought, naiveté was not long for this world. She would learn, and he imagined it would be a painful process.

Luriel gathered her Engel, Cassiel and Mathiel, and spoke to them apart from the others. She wanted to plan with them, for Vienna, and discuss their relationship with Ian Longwalke. She knew Mathiel disliked him, but she wanted their true opinion of the man before going any further. They would face enough dangers ahead, she expected, and adding to them was most unneeded.

Mathiel surprisingly admitted he had been unfair to Ian Longwalke. He had decided the man had already proved himself an aid to them, and it was wrong for him to hold such dislike for a mortal in his heart. Before Luriel could thank him for his consideration, though, he said a thing which distressed her. Mathiel and Cassiel agreed that Luriel had led them well, and had become both the Michaelite and Gabrielite of their Fellowship with great skill. They felt she had fought well against the scares, and had led them with the skill Touriel would have had in her place.

Luriel was not sure what to say. She had only led them as best she could. In her opinion, she had done no better than any Engel could have, if not worse. Still, while it was a compliment that made her uncomfortable, she welcomed their support. She extended encouragement to Cassiel for his brave fighting against a scare, and he seemed most pleased that Luriel and Mathiel felt he had handled himself in combat well.

Perhaps that is what makes one a good leader, Luriel thought…building up your Fellowship with encouragement, supporting one another, and listening to them. It was even accepting criticism from them. She felt as if her Fellowship was strong and healthy.

Discussion then turned to the plan for the day. Cassiel’s opinion of Adolphus’s health was promising, but he thought at least a half day’s rest would strengthen him greatly. He was mending, over the worst of his illness, but pushing on immediately might cause him to relapse. This gave Luriel her chance to explore Ian’s cave into the past, but she did not want to go alone. She felt it could be dangerous, and she had learned the value of a team-mate at your back in Groten. It was not a lesson she would soon forget, even for the wishing.

She told them of the cave, and how it was the probable source of the Night Child she had encountered last night. No words were said as to why she was so eager to explore the dangerous ruins, but she felt it was a rare opportunity to see relics of the time before. Mathiel at first was reluctant, and of the opinion that it was secondary to their mission and should be avoided.

Cassiel won the argument by suggesting it was in the best interest of the town and the Church if they explored the cave. On one hand they could destroy the evil lurking in the darkness that threatened a town, and on the other they would also keep any dangerous relics from falling into the hands of heretics when Constance’s officials came to explore it.

With this said, all agreed. Cassiel felt it was best he stay behind to make certain Adolphus’s recovery continued, and Rythe was still suffering from a mild concussion after his attack at the hands of the creature. Luriel and Mathiel would go alone, and plan to return after a short exploration of the ruins in the cave.

Luriel took the task of informing Adolphus they would delay shortly, ostensibly for his health and well-being. She did not imagine he would argue, as they were a short distance from Vienna, their journey close to being over. She was wrong.

He was not pleased at any delay. He argued with her that they must hurry, as the longer the delayed increased a risk she did not know of. She inquired as to what he meant, and he relented and told her. As it was, Isabella of Cordova, one of the most powerful of the Diadoches and another instrumental leader in the Urbanis League, was currently in Vienna. Adolphus told Luriel that Isabella’s purpose there was to connive and conspire to accomplish the movement of Thagiel from Vienna to Cordova. While the renegade aided all cities of the Urbanis League indirectly, he had made his home in Vienna and was closest to Viktor Constance. It was also believed Isabella was trying to agitate relations between Vienna and the Angelitic Church in the hopes of driving Constance to mobilize his forces. She wanted war.

Luriel listened, all of this news to her. Had Touriel known these facts? Why had she not been told before? Still, it changed nothing. Adolphus needed to finish recovering, or he would arrive in Vienna to weak and sick to accomplish anything. Cassiel declared as much alongside her, and at last, Adolphus agreed to rest, but only for the morning.

After hugging her old nonnus, Luriel set forth with Mathiel in the direction of the uncovered ruins. She felt guilty at not telling Adolphus about their planned exploration, but felt it was for the best. He would worry and not rest if he knew. The two Engel, under cover of cloaks, walked together into the morning in hopes of exploring the lost past.

[SotDX]

The two Engel came to the river where the cave had been said to be. They were a few miles from Vant, and it was a quiet peaceful place, well shaded by trees. Mathiel paused on the bank, breathing in the air and beauty of the area, preparing himself for the trek into dusty earth. He said nothing to Luriel, but he had never been fond of enclosed places.

Luriel on the other hand was full of nervous energy. What would they find in the depths of the cave? She expected ruins, for Ian had said such had been found by the first accidental explorers. She had never seen pre-flood ruins, only read of the times before in what books existed on them in the Himmel’s library.

The two stepped into the cave, both armed, ready for the expected attack of the blood-drinker at some point in their explorations. Mathiel had his bow and blade, Luriel her sword. For light they had brought a lantern.

The cave at first appeared to be nothing but a natural formation, empty of any ruins or relics. It was cold and damp, and Mathiel felt the uncomfortable closeness of its walls. Luriel felt a sense of déjà vu, and knew this was the cave from her vision. This was the resting place of the metal case.

With a few minutes walk they found the first ruins. There were portions of walls and signs of a city once existing that had been buried in the years since the flood. Many of the lands near the oceans had been flooded, and the earth moved. Many pre-flood cities that were now not under water still were buried lost beneath the soil.

Luriel examined a rusted-out metal wagon-like vehicle, curious as to its function. She had read that the people in the times before had used wagons that pulled themselves to travel, not using horses. She had read it, but to see one, even in such a state, was amazing. It seemed to have had some kind of engine in it at one time, but the body was too decayed to be sure of its original shape. Water dripped from the walls in the cave, which no doubt had added to the destructive power of time.

Around another corner the Engel found skeletons of the long dead. They wore tattered remains of uniforms, rotting away. Their bodies were strangely positioned, almost contorted. Luriel commented to Mathiel that the Vitus Dance would have caused that, as it made the dying spasm as it killed them. He nodded, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Luriel found another vehicle, but it was not as rusted as the one before. She was almost able to make out under the dust faint writing on its side. She called Mathiel and his lamp over, and knelt down to try and decipher the faint words on the side of the odd wagon. Mathiel moved from foot to foot impatiently. At last Luriel was able to interpret the writing.

“Mathiel, it says MILITARY in an old form of German. This must have been some kind of military outpost.”

She was excited, the historian inside her thrilling at being in the past. She noticed Mathiel was not anywhere near as interested, but thought it only to be disinterest in history. She had no idea he was trying to stay calm. Luriel patted him on the shoulder, and told him they would move on.

The cave floor went into an incline, and the two carefully made their way up it. As they crested the high point, Mathiel heard a strange cracking sound. He turned to Luriel to warn her when the floor gave way and they both fell through.

[SotDX]

The two Engel had unknowing walked on a part of the cave that went directly over the roof of an old building, still mostly intact. The added weight of the two of them was too much, and the roof below the thin cave floor had collapsed.

Unfortunately, as Luriel stood up, she did not find Mathiel. He had fallen into a different chamber and in the darkness she could not find him. She called out to him in the dark, thinking he would be close by or at least would hear her voice. There was nothing but silence.

And then, as she listened expecting his call, she heard something- a soft swish of a voice, mostly a whisper. There was a feeling. An unclean feeling she had felt in the dark in the sacrificial pit in Groten. Voices came to her then, unclean voices from the dark beneath the earth. They called to her.

The voices told her she was one of them. She was with them in the darkness. They spoke of the twins of Gemini… the sister and the brother. They called to her as a sister. The called to her as one of them!

She could take no more. Luriel screamed back that she was not their sister and she was not one of them. She was a creature of light, of God, and she would listen to them no longer! She ignited the flaming sword she carried and held it on high to push back the dark and its voices.

With that, there was only silence. She could hear her breathing, and the gentle drip of moisture, but no sounds of Mathiel or the tormenting voices. She looked around trying to make out the walls of the chamber she was in by the light of her sword. Ahead of her in the distance was a faint light, just as she had seen in her dream. Could it be?

She walked towards the light, prepared for a trap. Whatever lurked ahead, she would be ready. Instead of a danger, she found a door. Beside the large metal door before her was a strange pad with numbered buttons, and a faint light. The door was solid and large, and appeared to slide back into the wall when opened. She surmised some sequence of keys had to be pushed to open the door, but the mechanism had long failed. The door was open only slightly, and she hoped she would be able to slide through into the chamber beyond. If her vision had been true, the case would be inside.

Moving carefully so as to not accidentally burn herself or catch her clothes afire from her blazing sword, she made her way through the door and into the chamber. It seemed to be some kind of storage room, with items stacked upon shelves along the walls. She looked around the room, beginning to suspect the object she sought was not present. Then she found it.

It was on one of the lower shelves with nothing stacked around it. Except for its missing luminosity, it was unchanged from her dream. She pulled the cold metal case from it’s shelf and kneeled over it. The metal was unrusted but covered in thick dust. She brushed the dust away and examined the writing painted on its exterior. The words were the same version of German she had found on the wagon further out in the cave.

She could read the words “small-technology” (a combination of Latin and German), “top secret”, and “of use by authorized peoples only”. Eagerly she examined the latches to see how to open the case. It had a simple catch and was unlocked. She opened it and felt a rush of air over her face. Had it been sealed so tight all this time? Apparently.

Inside were items encased in a squishy soft material, perhaps to keep them safe? There were several metal cylinders (vials?), a gun with a needle on the front of it, and a round shiny object. The gun looked like some kind of medical device, perhaps for injecting something under the skin. She had read a book on old medical technology once. The metal cylinders might be containers of some kind of drug. What of the round object? It was almost circular, and yet two sides of the disc were flat. There was a hole in its center, and the light reflected off it strangely, almost as a mirror.

She reached out and picked up one of the metal vials, holding the cold metal in her hand. What could be in such a thing? Why would the Archangel wish her to collect this from its resting place? There was not writing on it, and an indented area on one side, presumably where it interfaced with the needle-gun.

Her reverie over this finding was shattered as she heard Mathiel’s scream. Luriel looked up, certain it was his voice. He was in trouble. She dropped the vial she held on the ground, slammed the case shut, and hurried to the door, almost setting her wing on fire with the sword that still burned.

As Luriel raced into the darkness, she half hoped he would scream again, so she could find him. He must be alright. She would never forgive herself if she found him dead, drained of blood. His scream echoed around a corner, and she at last found him.

The Night Child had him in a harsh embrace, its mouth at his shoulder. One of his wings was bent back at an unnatural angle. He struggled, but the creature was strong. His sword lay at his feet.

Before Luriel could act, the creature threw Mathiel from his arms and fell to its knees groaning. Luriel looked from her companion to the beast, unsure of what had happened. The creature was unwell! It turned to them, and in the light from her torch she could see Mathiel’s blood on its chin. But something more was there as well! Signum, glowing in its pattern, shined forth from under the blood on the beast’s face!

It glared at Luriel with hatred, and snarled at her.

“If you are such as this thing, then you are no Angel!”

Then it put its hands to its head and screamed as the veins all over it began to bulge hideously. Luriel took no pause and ended it, severing its head from its shoulders with her sword. She stood before it as it fell, and then rushed to Mathiel’s side. Where he had been bitten a nasty gash bled, but stranger, around the wound his Engelic markings had vanished. It was as if they had transferred from him to the beast’s face!

His shoulder and wing was sprained, and he was weak. Luriel helped him up, and started the struggle to get them both out of the cave. She carried the case with them, and as they at last emerged into daylight (with relief) she told him the truth of why she had wanted to explore these caves so desperately. When she told him that the Archangel had spoken to her and given her this mission, he looked at her with half-conscious reverence and awe.

“It is a great thing to be visited by the Archangel of your order, Luriel. You have accomplished a great thing.”

As she helped her wounded brethren back to the city, she wondered if she had done a good thing. What if the vision had not come from the Archangel? What if instead she had carried something dangerous and destructive from the dark into the light? Worse, she would have done so at the risk of Mathiel’s life.

[SotDX]

Adolphus had not been pleased with the idea of delaying before leaving for Vienna. His reaction when Luriel returned with an injured Mathiel was best described as livid. He was furious they had ventured out on some fool quest without his permission or knowledge, and it was clear Mathiel was hurt.

He stood before Luriel, and raised his voice to her in anger. This was like a slap to her face for in the time she had known her nonnus he had never been so angry. He told her she had threatened their mission and misled her Fellowship. Then, breathing heavily, he told her she should go to her chamber and think about what she had done.

Luriel knew trying to explain to him why she had gone, what she had found… it was no use. He was angry and upset, but it was not just at the sight of Mathiel injured. She knew he was worried, worried over the thought of seeing Thagiel again, after so many years. He was worried about how they would be received. He had told her once, in a quiet moment, how he had written Thagiel when he had first heard the Engel had taken residence in Vienna. He had never heard from him until this mission was allowed. She held her tongue and nodded to her nonnus, which led to him laying back down in his bed and calming down.

Cassiel was busy seeing to Mathiel, and had already healed the gash the creature had made. Luriel looked over at the two, and was concerned to see the missing Engelic script still had not returned to his shoulder. Mathiel was barely aware, but Luriel stepped close to Cassiel and asked him what he thought was wrong. When she had been stung and bit by the Dreamseed in Groten, her markings had not vanished.

Cassiel thought about the situation, and asked Luriel to describe in detail what had happened with the beast. Upon hearing the events, he nodded. He told her he thought the problem was the beast drained essences from people, and from Mathiel he had tried to drain an Engel’s holy essence. That explained why some of the Engelic marks had vanished and reappeared on the beast’s face. It also explained why the beast had been in pain. The holy essence of an Engel was anathema to something unclean and evil. Cassiel smiled at Luriel, quite satisfied with his explanation.

Luriel nodded, finding the answer logical and sound. Yes, the marks would return as he healed. Mathiel would be fine. She told them she was going to her room, and thanked Cassiel for her explanation. As Mathiel would be weak for at least a few hours, Rythe still suffered headaches from his concussion, and Adolphus was tired, they would wait until the next morning to press on to Vienna.

In her chamber, Luriel looked at the closed case. She pondered its purpose. She had read that some in the time before had believed man had created the plague which had wiped out all but children. Could it be possible this was some form of plague? But the vision in which she had been directed to it felt right, so different from the unclean voices she had heard down in the darkness. She would wait to tell the others about the case, and Mathiel would say nothing, most likely sleeping for the next few hours.

She found an object in the pocket of her cloak, and pulled it out. In the rush out of the storage chamber in the cave something had fallen in. It was an odd square device with a raised nub on its top. There was a kind of grill on the bottom, and faint depressions with markings, similar to the numbers on the keypad at the door to the chamber. Could it have been used to control the door?

There was a knock at the door, and Ian greeted her as she opened it. He wanted to know their plans for traveling on to Vienna, and seemed pleased when she told him they would stay the night. He told her he had a request. He wanted her to dine with him in his chamber as two civilized individuals. He was curious to learn more about her, and he would be happy to answer more questions about Vienna.

The idea intrigued her. It would be good to learn more about Vienna before they arrived, to avoid possible social mistakes or errors that could make diplomacy difficult afterwards. He noticed the device she was holding, and asked if she had found in on their expedition. She nodded, and asked him if he knew what it was.

He took it form her and examined it. He told her he believed it was a communication device used in the time before. Things called satellites high above the sky circled the Earth and allowed the users of these to talk to one another from great distances by entering codes which corresponded to each device. Luriel marveled at the idea, such as small contraption could connect people so distant.

She put the device back in her room, and told Ian she would dine with him. She was careful to not let him see the case, as she felt the fewer who knew about her finding the better, at least at the moment. She locked the door to her room and followed him, curious as to what a meal with a mortal man would be like.

[SotDX]

Luriel sniffed the strong smelling concoction Ian had poured into her glass, unsure of its nature. It smelled evil to her, with an acrid sent. He poured himself a glass and sipped at it, seeming to savor the flavor. He smiled at her, his eyes amused, and told her it was safe to drink.

She took a cautious sip, but the taste was strong and unpleasant. She tried to smile, not wanting to be rude, but Ian laughed at her obvious expression of dislike. She in turn laughed at his reaction. A sense of comfort was established between the two, and Luriel decided to start asking questions.

As Ian sliced the fowl between then, Luriel started by asking of Isabella of Cordova. Was she really in Vienna at the moment? Ian nodded, adding that the Church kept good intelligence. Luriel knew nothing of such, but wanted Ian’s opinion on her purpose in Vienna.

“Well… you have to understand where Isabella comes from to know her mind. She is the absolute ruler in her own dominion, and she is used to getting what she wants. Are you familiar with the story of her father, and how relations soured with the church?”

Luriel knew little of the Junklords and their histories, and told Ian she was interested to hear.

“Isabella at age fourteen located an enormous cache of pre-flood weapons. Serious weapons, not just guns but items of powerful destruction. Her father, Enrique, was near his death and grew superstitious as to the future of his soul. He made a generous offer of half of the weapons to the Pontifex of the Engelitic Church. Perhaps he felt doing such would grant him a place in heaven, if the other side was correct. Who knows?”

Luriel had never heard of this occurrence. Weapons of such power would surely help the Church against the evil of the Dreamseed. Ian sipped his wine, and continued.

“In return, on his deathbed, Enrique received a letter from Secundus himself. In no uncertain terms it declared he must turn over all of the heretical items immediately, threatened a renewed pogrom in Andalusia against technology, and warned that the dreaded fate of Lisbon might befall Cordova if they did not act soon. Well, as you might imagine, this neither made Enrique happy nor endeared his daughter to the Church and its methods.”

Luriel was thunderstruck. Why would the Pontifex act in such a manner? Yes, this was a heretic Junklord he wrote to, but what of diplomacy and tact? Those weapons could have been of great benefit to the Templars and Engel. Of course, that was a heretical thought. And yet before their destruction the Raguelites were allowed to capture technology and take it to their Himmel. Was it any different than “the danger” of reading and writing?

“Now Isabella, she saw the Dreamseed as a greater threat, at least at first. She personally led a mobilized army equipped with items from that cache of pre-flood tech. She waged a private war in the lands around Cordova and successfully purged Dreamseed from the land she now controls, Andalusia.”

Ian chewed, letting Luriel consider his words. He could tell her mind was working on the details. He enjoyed watching her internal gears spin. He’d rarely met anyone who cogitated in such detail while carrying on normal conversation and activity. Perhaps it was a trait of all Ramielites, though he preferred to think this one was special. Luriel swallowed, and asked him if Isabella ever complied with the order the Pontifex had given her father?

Ian dabbed at a corner of his mouth, and shook his head.

“No. In fact quite the opposite. As soon as she came to power after her father’s death she issued a proclamation that any Engelitic Church member found within her lands in five days would die. Painfully. And believe me, she has not welched from that often. Those she does let live often would rather have died.”

The grim thought soured their moment. Luriel imagined innocent missionaries in torture chambers, and then banished the thought. Was this woman a monster then, shaped by such in the cold treatment of her father by the masters of the church?

“Isabella was instrumental in forming the Urbanis League, bringing at first three Free Cities together, and the number has grown since then. Of course, they would never have been as successful this fast if it had not been for Thagiel’s appearance on the scene. He was definitely, as you say, a rogue element.”

Ian smirked at his pun, but Luriel did not seem to notice. The mention of Thagiel excited her. As dangerous as he was, he represented a mystery she would soon encounter in the flesh. What would he be like? Would he listen to Adolphus?

“So, at the risk of dominating our dinner conversation, I need to give you some background on Viktor so as to understand why Isabella is in Vienna today. Karl Constance, Viktor’s father and predecessor, was fairly ambivalent to the Church. This was before the Urbanis League, mind you. He even considered converting according some of our more infamous historians. Anyway, in a sad tale, Viktor’s mother converts secretly and then confronts her husband, pressuring him to do the same. She became a zealot overnight, which many think was a sign of tampering.”

Luriel asked Ian what he meant by tampering? He told her some believed the woman’s mind had been altered by an agent of the church to try and force her husband’s hand in converting. Luriel scoffed at the idea of the church having any ability to alter someone’s mind. Even if they did, such would be a horrible crime. She refused to believe the church would ever consider such a thing.

Ian raised his hands in defense, sensing her offense at the idea.

“I understand. As I said, some believe this, not all. Regardless, when Karl refused to convert, his fanatic of a wife tried to lead a revolution against him and he was forced to banish her for her actions. This deprived Viktor of his mother, and did little to improve Karl’s relationship with Roma Aeterna. Now, flash forward a few years. Again, it appears Karl is considering at least nominally coming to terms with the Church, and a highly gifted and very diplomatic Raguielite is sent to treat with him regarding turning over some of their heretical technology to his order as a sign of contrition.”

Luriel saw where this was heading. Now Thagiuel, the thrice-tempted, would enter the story.

“Thagiel was sent from Trondheim by Ab Gundar to examine the technology used by the people of Austria and try to convince Karl of the need to cease in using it. Viktor was just a teenager at the time, and had never really recovered from the banishment of his mother. I believe Thagiel and Viktor established their relationship then, before the fall of the Himmel. After the Himmel fell, Thagiel vanished for several months, finally returning to the court of Karl Constance. He pledged fealty to the man, and in turn, to the new Urbanis League that the ruler had joined. I imagine you know the rest of the story.”

Luriel knew parts of it. Thagiel had greatly strengthened the power of the Urbanis League, and had helped them advance their technology. He had come to be known as a great traitor by all Engel, one who had turned his back on the Church and had been tempted to the call of the Lord of the Flies.

“Viktor took power some years later after an accident killed his father. He has grown up close to Thagiel. Their relationship is hard to define. Unlike Isabella, Viktor is a kinder ruler. He tries to be just and fair, loves art and music, and is passionately entranced with technology. He has two aides at his side always. One is chief of all military matters, the other is the chief technician.

Due to the relationship Viktor has had with Thagiel even before he left the church, Vienna has always benefited the greatest of the aligned cities from his aid. The other cities of the Urbanis League do feel Thagiel’s presence, but to a lesser degree, and never directly. In recent years he rarely leaves his tower.

Isabella wants him. Not just more aid, but physically. She wants him in Cordova.”

Ian was nearly finished with his food, and realized how long they had been talking.

“Forgive me, I’ve probably bored you. You knew most of this already, I’m sure. Tell me more of yourself, Luriel. I admit I know a little of your order already, but not the impression of one who lives it herself.”

Luriel wondered what she could say of herself. She told him she was proud to be a Ramielite, and of her great love for knowledge and history. She almost commented on her confusion that the Church would refuse gifts of such powerful technology, but decided it was wrong to openly decry the will of the Pontifex to a heretic.

Ian smiled, listening intently. He then asked her a question he regretted.

“So, Luriel, tell me. Were you born near Prague?”

She looked up at him, certain he was teasing her. She realized his face was serious, and dropped her utensils. How dare this man again confuse her with a mortal being. She was an Engel of the Lord, not some human being born of woman. She told Ian the conversation was over, and gathered her things. Ian tried to apologize, and she accepted it, but told him they would have to continue their conversation another time.

Still indignant, Luriel walked back to her room alone. He was a fascinating man, but she had trouble ignoring some of his attitudes and opinions. She hoped she would be able to speak with Jaciel again soon to discuss Thagiel and the matters of technology refused.

In her room, she wondered something else. What would happen to an army of Engel that faced an enemy that was armed with significant technological weapons? Would they be shot from the sky? The idea chilled her to her core.

[SotDX]

At last, the Fellowship (with Ian Longwalke) arrived in Vienna. They had left Vant at first light, and traveled without incident along a well laid road into the city. Adolphus seemed alert, if anxious, and Rythe had appeared to make a full recovery. Mathiel still looked pale, but his missing signum had returned and he seemed to be making a slow return to normal health.

Luriel found the city breathtaking in its majesty. She had never explored the city in which her own Himmel had stood, and her visit to Roma Aeterna for her consecration had been brief. This was a city seen from a slow approach on foot, and she marveled at its size and beauty.

As they entered the external walls, she also began to cough. There was a haze of smoke, and an increasing cacophony of what Ian told her was the noise from the factories located on the north-west side of the city. Regardless, her first impression of the beauty of the city was marred somewhat at the thick smoke and noise.

Passing through the dirtier industrial area, she eagerly looked about, drinking in the detail of the exotic place. It was very crowded, people milling about in the day to day existence of their lives. Even though the sun was still in the clouded sky, she saw light from many windows. In some cases this was still the flickering light she was used to from fireplaces or lanterns. In other windows, though, she saw a steady light that seemed more to what she was used to from the Himmel’s interior. How could they have such false light here?

The people wore many layers of clothing, with some in extensive finery. Most also wore shoes. She was curious if all were affluent, and could afford such, or was clothing cheaper here than in small villages. It was different from Groten and the villages near Prague.

The architecture was a heady mixture of new wood buildings and edifices that had survived for centuries. Vienna felt odd to her eyes, as much of the old world survived in its streets and alleys. She wondered if Prague would have looked the same if she had explored it. She wondered why she had never considered exploring the world outside the Himmel, instead of spending all of her time reading.

Ahead was an area of the city surrounded by a great wall, blocking their passage with a massive gate. Armed guards stood ahead in a kind of ceremonial dress. Ian told them that the area of the city were the palace lay, the center of the Vienna, was walled off from the rest and required permission to enter. Luriel nodded, preparing herself for the introductions to the guards glaring at them as they approached. First impressions were so important.

Ian stopped her, and asked if she wanted him to speak with the guards for her. She considered it, and decided it might be best. While they were expected, these were simple guardsmen and Ian served the court of Constance. He would stand a better chance getting them in without any incidents. As Ian approached the guards, Luriel turned to Adolphus, asking him to give her the letters that granted their entry.

Adolphus glared down at her, unpleased she had let Ian Longwalke involve himself in this process. He was growing more distrustful of all of Vienna, and was worried constantly of dangers real and imaginary. With some regret, he told Luriel his opinion but gave her the letters bearing Constance’s seal. Luriel gave them to Ian, and entry was granted without problem.

From his white tower, the renegade sensed the Engel. He had felt their arrival for some time, his being attuned to the presence of others such as him. He stepped into the darkness of his sanctum, questioning the sanity of his plans. Would he be strong enough? Time would tell.

As the group entered the walled inner city, Ian made his goodbyes to the group. He thanked them for their kindnesses, and promised he would meet them again. He stepped away in the shadows, leaving them to proceed with a city guard. Luriel missed his departure, her eyes noticing an odd white tower stretching to the sky. It was taller than any structure in the city, and seemed unmarred by doors or windows except for at its top. There seemed to be a large window and a long balcony there. It reminded her of a miniature Himmel. Luriel realized Ian had left them, and regretted not saying goodbye.

It was instantly clear they had entered a more affluent area of the city. The streets were cleaner, the people better dressed, and the lights had changed. Here she saw nothing but warm solid lights. Again, she knew not how lights such as these could be in mortal hands.

They way was uphill, and as the horses and Engel walked up the paved road Luriel caught sight of a strange group of men. Here, in the richer area of Vienna, were men wearing crude one-piece clothing that clasped over their shoulders. They were covered in a foul smelling black fluid and had dirty metal objects protruding from their pockets. She wished Ian had still been with them, for she eagerly wanted to know what these men were.

At last they came before an enormous building of beauty and elegance, surely dating from the pre-flood age. There were carvings all over the building and strange stone faces around its roof. The guard directed them in, and told them in German they barely understood that they were expected inside. Was this the palace?

Inside was a confluence of beauty and garish technology. The hall was carpeted in lush reds and golds, and a beautiful chandelier sparkled above. In contrast, strange colored lights flashed around the chamber, and flat mirror-like panels with changing images. Grating music poured from black boxes on the walls.

A tall old man dressed in great finery greeted the Fellowship, welcoming them to Vienna. He told them his name, Sebastian, and that he was to be their valet for all their needs. Their horses and items were being tended to, and fine chambers had been prepared for them upstairs here in one of Viktor’s many apartments. Each of them would have a room to him or her self.

Rythe surprised them by causing a small scene. He demanded in Latin that he must not have a chamber to himself in such a place. He would sleep in the servant’s quarters or perhaps outside. He would not take such finery as it was not right for a Templar to sleep in the same luxury as an Engel and a respected monach. Sebastian did not understand, but looked concerned. Luriel tried to explain the problem to him in what German she knew, but Adolphus settled the problem before she could begin.

He told Rythe that he could sleep in the same chamber with him, helping to aid him in his mission. In such a way he would not be acting in a way unbecoming of a Templar. Rythe agreed, and Sebastian appeared greatly relieved that all was well. He told them they were expected in the palace in two hours, and they could freshen themselves from their long journey if they wished.

All agreed it was needed, and they were led up the stairs to the strange chambers prepared for them. As Luriel ascended, she turned to survey the hall again. The flashing lights did not make sense any to her. They hurt her eyes, and surely they would make reading difficult.

[SotDX]

This is as far as I've written at the moment. Future installments I'll post both here and on the original German page, http://www.feder-galerie.de

I hope you've enjoyed what I've written up so far. I must confess, I've gotten more and more into the writing of it as I re-tell the events of our chronicle.

Trust me, it keeps getting better from here. I believe Thagiel will finally appear in roughly two more posts.

This takes us up to roughly 4-5 months into the game. We are almost one year and seven months currently, though we only play when we can find the time.

If you are interested in Engel, you should know Sword and Sorcery dropped the English version of it. Hope exists, though it is small. I was told by one of the creators of the game that an Israeli publisher may start putting the books out in English, and we would be able to order overseas. I'm still waiting to see if that happens or not.

You might be able to find the book in some game stores if you are lucky.

Well, here's to the next part of the story. Long live the renegade Engel!

~SotDX

[SotDX]

Each went to the chamber prepared for them. It’s been said to know your enemy, learn how he lives. Before the Engel (and humans) were rooms of great finery, the best a strange world could offer. These were rooms for foreign heads of state. Luriel nodded to Rythe, Mathiel, and Cassiel, and Sebastian ushered them forward into their separate chambers. Adolphus would be safe with Rythe, as the loyal Templar would die before allowing any harm to befall his charge.

Stepping into the plush room, Luriel marveled at the luxury. A great window opened onto the royal courtyards beyond, the city of Vienna sweeping out before her. The large chamber was well-furnished, and was a far cry from the simple cellae Engel were used to living in within the Himmel, or the dirty rooms found in country inns. This was no bed of earth and rain.

The bed, incidentally, was large and appeared quite plush. The room was dark, though, and Luriel’s hand felt a set of switches on the wall. She was surprised to find a control for lights in the room. Again, the divine lights that only existed in the Himmel were on display. Was this the treachery of Thagiel, or something more? These lights clearly emanated from a fixture in the middle of the ceiling, while the lights of the Himmel’s chambers seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.

There were other switches on the wall. It seemed one could control the temperature of the room within some set range. Again, this was a marvel that only the great structures of the church was known to possess. Did they somehow mimic the work of the Lord in their technology? She adjusted the knob, and a loud blast of air came from vents in the walls. It was certainly not the same as the Himmel. The Lord’s creations were not noisy and so jarring. The temperature in the cellae was always perfect.

Luriel walked around the room, her bare feet squishing in the soft carpet. A part of her found the luxury around so comforting. This childish part of her wanted to throw herself in the bed, and roll in the sheets. Her maturity denied such urged, noticing the dirt and filth on her robes. She was to clean and prepare, for her purpose was clear. The Satrap, Viktor Constance, was to be met and trucked with.

As for a bath, she found one. There was an enormous pit of a washing tub, rivaling again the great baths of the Himmel. Laughing at the comparison, she began to disrobe, and puzzled over the controls for the water flow. With success achieved, she allowed the warm water to fill as she looked over the room again. A strange black box, similar to the ones that had blared the discordant cacophony downstairs, sat near her on a wooden table. A wire ran from it back into the wall.

Luriel stepped near it, curious as to its function. There was a metal switch on its top, and no other apparent controls. Somewhat timidly, but still driven her as yet unexhausted curiosity, she flipped the switched. At the sound of a large crackle and pop she leapt back, expecting the device to explode after making such an unearthly sound. Instead, static gave way to words, and to her amazement a voice began to speak, seeming to tell of events in the city.

So transfixed was she at this device, she almost did not notice the water’s level rapid increase. She quickly turned off the taps, and climbed into the warm waters. The weight of her long journey from Prague washed from her, and she listened to strange chatter of the noise-box.

The box with a woman’s voice began to speak of “the great and noble Isabella of Cordova, Great Lady of Andalusia, Warrior of Catalan, and friend to all free men and women.” It appeared she most certainly was in town, and the locals appeared (from the noise-box at least) to be in all a flutter. According to the speaker, Isabella was present to cement new treaties between the Urbanis League cities.

Luriel waited to her mention of Thagiel… of the push for war that Ian had suggested was the mad woman’s real goal. The voice said nothing, spending more time on trivialities than speaking any harsh truths. Perhaps there were laws against the truth here in Vienna.

Then the noise-box went on to speak of some atrocity in the city. Four had been killed so far in the “Undercity”, it seemed, and some witness had been said to describe a strange metal man to be the murderer. Perhaps there was no ban on the truth after all. Darkness struck here, but a strange evil. The voice cautioned any travel to the Undercity, as the area had been declared by Viktor a great danger to those unaware.

It was then the noise-box ceased in its narration, and began to play a sweet tune. Luriel wondered if the words and music alternated, or if there was some other pattern to the noises from the box. As interesting as the news of the city had been, the music was far more pleasing. It was a single string instrument, and it was played with great beauty and grace. Luriel sunk deeper into the warmth, her eyes shutting.

As Luriel soaked, the heat melting the stiffness from her thin limbs, the door opened. So enraptured by the heat and chatter of the noise-box, Luriel’s great battle training and sharp awareness did not notice. The maid walked across the floor to the bed, and collected the torn foul robes she had shed. Luriel sensed the shadow fall over her, and opened her eyes to find the maid folding the clothes into a satchel.

The maid nodded to her, unsmiling, and told Luriel she was here to take her clothes to be laundered. She would return shortly. The woman did not seem concerned to see an Engel, her scriptum unshed in the boiling warmth. Luriel stood, nodding, curious as to the woman’s reaction. Was there no fear in these lands of Engel? Perhaps they did not think of the heaven-born as enemies, as she had thought?

She asked the maid why she not seem to fear such strangers? The maid thought to herself, and then explained. It was not uncommon for the people of Vienna to see an Engel from time to time, what with lord Thagiel watching over them.

“You’d seem him in the skies above, sometimes. And sometimes he is on the Glotziste, though not often anymore.”

The maid walked out then, carrying Luriel’s only clothes. Luriel soaked for a moment more, and then decided she had washed away enough of the past days. Rising from the water, she dried herself on the cloths that had been provided. The luxuries of these heretic lords were great. Was their power equal to such? They had survived against the collective will of the Church in various forms and capacities for years. Perhaps it was an equal part cunning as strength.

Exploring the other wonder of her room after adorning a fuzzy white robe, she found what she thought a communication device. It had a piece to go to one’s mouth and ear, and a long wire from such part into a box on the wall. There was a wheel with holes arounds its edge, perhaps for dialing some combination of numbers. Yes, with consideration, she could see the similarity to the relic she had found in the caves. Ian had said that small device would connect people from around the world. She wondered where this strange odd contraption would connect you to. With distaste, she decided she strongly preferred the more natural communications of her Order, from Engel to Engel via thoughts, as she often spoke to Jaciel.

The thought of him gave her pause. Her distaste turned into a frown. Was he still alive? Had he already ascended, passing on from the mortal plane? She hoped not, despite the obvious reward waiting for him in Heaven. How she hoped she would see his face once more. The things she would tell him of this place, if it was only to be.

With that thought, the door opened again. The maid had returned with such a short absence, and with her she brought Luriel’s Engelic robe, cleaned and mended. How could such cleaning and repair be done in so little time? The maid smiled, sensing she was pleased. Luriel clad herself in the finery of her own world, and readied herself.

It was time to meet the rebel rulers of her world.

[SotDX]

The hall of the king was a thing of terror. Lights flashed, sounds echoed, and around her Luriel saw men and women awash in refuse of the past. Shiny discs, wire, and hard plastics were the attire of this court. Must they flaunt their heretical love for the pre-flood ways in the eyes of the Lord? Luriel calmed herself, sensing the more palpable concern of her Fellowship.

Adolphus had scolded her for the music. He did not approve of her incessant explorations. There were dangers here, he warned, vipers under every shiny stone. She must be on her guard, careful of those who would wish her harm. Still, what she had seen in the rooms through her investigation had helped prepare her for the court of Constance.

Upon a throne of steel and stone he sat, himself adorned in a great suit of shine and tech. This was no private audience before the Satrap, but instead a public appearance before the halls of power in Vienna. Luriel’s eyes scanned the room, but no figure was winged. Thagiel was not present. Crestfallen, she stood firmly next to her old nonnus, as Viktor was alerted to the presence of the Church envoys.

The City Lord stood, bringing silence to the music of the court. He beckoned for the newcomers to come forward, and Luriel walked ahead of her Fellowship, Adolphus at her side. Rythe walked several feet behind the Engel, in respect of his place.

A sister sat to Viktor Constance’s right, a brother to his left. They remained seated as Viktor stepped down before the Engel. He raised his hand to his face, extending it out as he lowered it. Adolphus returned with the sign of the Church.

“I visit you with greetings, envoys of Secundus. You have traveled far to be greeted with warmth in my court. Hold, though, for I do not understand. I see only Engel before me. Is it not customary for a Fellowship of Engel to hold with five winged warriors?”

Viktor could see the answer to his question in the frailest of the Engel before him, for Cassiel’s eyes were downcast at his question. Luriel gave him a more certain response.

“We have had much adversity in our path, Satrap Constance. In battles with Dreamseed two of our number fell.”

With the answer Luriel’s throat threatened to constrict, but she resisted the pang of sadness for her fallen fellows. She met Viktor’s gaze, strong and inquiring, for she was an Engel. She would bow not before any mortal ruler. Viktor met her returned gaze, and his face softened.

“I grieve for your loss. It is a hard thing to see ones you care for perish. I give you my welcome and greetings. You are here in my city with my blessing, and in my protection. Please, accept my most deep sorrow for your dear losses.”

His words were heart-felt, no aphorisms of diplomacy. The Engel could see in him a caring heart that truly grieved for their pain. Perhaps there could be hope in a world with rulers who cared for the pain of others, even when those others were enemies. Mathiel stood forward, and uttered great thanks for the welcome of he and his fellows into the halls of Constance. Luriel was proud, for she knew Mathiel to be untrustful of the heretics. He had spoke well. Cassiel, in turn, stepped forward to give thanks. He stammered, his eyes darting to the many faces of the court around them, but finished well.

Adolphus then greeted Viktor, and immediately asked him when they could meet with Thagiel. Viktor seemed unfazed, but Luriel was upset. It would have been better, she thought, to not inform all in the court why they were here. Some might be uncertain of their purpose. Now there would be no question; the heralds of Prague had come for the renegade Raguelite. Adolphus was no diplomat.

Viktor, to his credit, smiled and reached out to Adolphus. He told the nonnus that Thagiel was no pet, dictated to when he should appear and present himself. They would meet with him soon enough, rest assured. He then looked about the group, and asked that some of them stay in court to take dinner with him. He would consider it an honor of such a wise scholar as Adolphus and great Engel as the Fellowship would sup with him and his closest. Luriel imagined Adolphus would stay and they would go, but Adolphus took her arm, telling her to send the others back, and that she would stay to dine with him at Constance’s behest.

With an anxious heart, Luriel told the others they were to go back. Rythe did not want to leave Adolphus’s side in such a place of danger, but Luriel would watch over him. She worried, though, for after the tone of dinner with Ian, feasting with heretics did not appeal. Regardless, duty ruled, and the others left as Viktor and his closest led the Engel and priest into the hall of dinning.

As they progressed from the throne chamber into the hall, a woman approached the two of them and made to speak with them. She was beautiful, of dark skin and raven black hair, and walked with a slight limp. She wore a strange black shiny armor that fit to her as a glove. A large heretic weapon hung from one hip, a sword from the other. She greeted them with a flourish, and in Latin with a strange accent made herself known.

“Greetings, Engel and monach. I am the Comtessa Isabella of Cordova, and I wish most strongly to speak with you, alone, at your most early of conveniences. Please consider visiting with me soon, for it might improve your future prospects.”

Without waiting for either to react, Isabella stepped away, striding (with her limp) into the dinning chamber. It seemed the dinner might yet be a place of vipers, some hidden, some exposed.

The seating arrangements did little to relax Luriel. Constance sat at the head of a lengthy table, Luriel to his left, and Adolphus to his right. Many sat along the length of the table, all attention turned to the strange visitors and their Lord. Isabella sat down beside Luriel, and it was clear from her intake of breath and seeming temper that she was not pleased that the emissaries of the hated Church had been placed in a position of greater honor than her own. Luriel tried to sit back, searching for any hint of comfort in this uneasy place. Even the chair refused her this, as it was high backed and her wings had no place to go.

This was no place for her. She was a scholar, a historian. A Michaelite should be here, one skilled in diplomacy and negotiation. This was wrong. She crossed her arms, trying to calm herself. Even the chair was wrong.

Viktor called to one of his many aides, and ordered that a more appropriate chair be brought for his winged guest of honor. He apologized to Luriel that such an oversight had been made. Thagiel, he explained, never dined with the court. They were unused to the different attributes of the winged presence at the table.

A low backed chair was brought, not dissimilar to the chairs found in the cellae of the Himmel. A small thing had been changed in the equation of the evening, but somehow the slight kindness Viktor had showed in correcting Luriel’s seat provided her with the strength and focus needed. She looked around the room, alert, now listening to the many conversations booming around the table. Her curiosity had resurfaced with the vigor to explore new worlds.

She watched the highly expressionate faces of those at the table, wondering what their lives were like. What did they believe and want for the world? Some watched her uncomfortably, perhaps seeing her as an ill omen of enemies both distant and close. A question entered her mind. How would they react if Thagiel was dining with them, or was that as rare as Viktor had intimated.

Isabella began to speak around her to Viktor, opening into discussion of wanting Thagiel in Cordova. Was this a lack of artifice, or the diplomacy of naked intent? She made it clear to the church visitors that she was telling Viktor that Cordova would have Thagiel for a time in its land. The hated Gabrielites and Urielites were a constant threat to her lands. If the expansionistic idiocy of the Church should come to Cordova, she would have her weapons and forces as prepared as possible. Thagiel was a key piece to her plans.

Luriel bristled. How could these people speak of Thagiel, even if a traitor, as a thing? He was no piece of any plan. He was an Engel, cast down or not. He should not be spoken of as such. Her pride expressed itself as she wondered how Thagiel could bring himself to serve such lower beings as these.

Looking at Adolphus, it was clear he was lost in such a forum as this. He was a creature of quiet contemplation and study, not debate and discussion. He ate at his food, picking more than feasting, and kept quiet. No fire seemed to lurk in his veins. His thoughts were his own.

Viktor, no friend to the Church, was certainly well informed on its doings. He spoke to Luriel and Adolphus of the “magician in the north” they had faced in Groten. He also seemed to already know of the fire at Saint Terrel’s, and had suspected it was a Dreamseed attack when they confirmed as much. Luriel wondered where he got such information, as it was apparent little happened in the lands around him (including those ruled by the Church) that he did not know of.

He then spoke of a curious thing. He told Luriel there had been much rumor in the far north, west of Prague, of a strange prophet moving among the villages and peoples. It had come to his ears that this prophet, who had taken to calling him “the Jesus”, after a figure from the pre-Engelitic religions, was spreading strange beliefs among the common people. It was said this odd figure preached of a philosophy of harmony with the Dreamseed, claiming that by fighting the Lord of the Flies one only made him stronger. The prophet was said to speak of fear being as sustenance before the might of the Tempter. This Jesus told the people, some who had begun to believe his words, that they could survive by accepting the Dreamseed.

What did it mean to accept the Dreamseed? Was that to accept death, destruction, flames and smoke? Still, something was true in this false prophet’s words. Domenico had conjectured that the Dreamseed were formed by fear itself, so it was likely that the Lord of the Flies devoured fear. Yet accepting was madness.

Across from Luriel sat Viktor’s sister, Victoria, an older but beautiful woman. Next to her sat the young Wilhelm, Viktor’s young brother. They spoke to each other with conspiratorial tones, private jokes and smiles between them. Watching them, Luriel could see the lives of those who would be next to rule, but forever denied it. Monarchy?

Further from the table was a most beautiful woman who seemed to look Luriel’s way repeatedly. She met the woman’s stare, but realized only then it was not at the Engel she looked at, but the Satrap to her left. Isabella leaned to Luriel, and whispered the identity of the attractive woman. It was Elizabetha, the beloved and betrothed of Viktor’s.

Viktor caught Luriel’s attention then, extending his courtesy ever further. He granted permission to the Engel and delegation to explore the city and visit its great libraries, as long as they were to not travel alone. Sebastian or others of his valet would travel with them. He explained this as being as much for their own safety as for the safe-keeping of his own city. Luriel, greatly interested in seeing the city, and even more excited by the prospect of new libraries to raid, thanked him with great sincerity. He did seem a most generous host.

Dinner had ended, arguments over, discussion at a close. Viktor made his farewells, bidding his new guests a good rest. He made away, and Isabella did the same. She paused, though, seeming interested in Luriel’s being able to read. With confirmation, she again repeated her interest in speaking with them privately, and emphasized it would need to be very soon. She bid them well, and left them to make their own way from the hall.

Luriel, holding Adolphus’s arm, began to make her way out of the hall. An aide approached them, and asked if they would follow him. There was one more matter Viktor wished to speak with them about. Adolphus grew concerned, worry lines collecting on his face. He was afraid there was treachery before them, but Luriel reassured him. All was well. She had begun to have trust in Viktor Constance, and she held to it.

In a much smaller (and more private) chamber they were brought before Viktor and two of his chief aides. Viktor greeted them, his face seeming more open. Luriel wondered if he had not wanted to treat with them in so public a forum before. What would he say here, away form prying eyes and ears?

The aides at his sides were opposites of each other. One was thin and tall, blonde haired and fairly young and attractive. He was introduced as Lukas, Haupt (Chief) Tech. The other was older, scowling, and scarred. A fierce man in military dress, he was introduced as Gunter, Haupt (Chief) of the Armies. These were the two aides always at Viktor’s side, one a learned technologist, the other a veteran of many battles. Luriel wandered if Dreamseed had given Gunter his many scars, but as he glared at her, she wondered if it was instead Church forces.

Viktor, who had been so warm before, now changed tone. He turned from them, and informed that he had passed on their request to see Thagiel immediately. He told them they would not have been allowed in his city if it had not been for Thagiel’s desire for it to be so. He emphasized his suddenly hostile attitude, turning to look at them again. It was important they did not travel alone in the city, but only with Sebastian, or Lukas.
He softened, and added that he recommended they avoid the Comtessa. There were great threats to them in his city. He emphasized that there were other visitors in Vienna at the moment. Some parties present might wish them harm. He seemed to truly be concerned for them. He then bid them farewell, and then retired with his aids.

Adolphus and Luriel at last were returning to their rooms. She wondered as to Viktor’s seeming change in mood, and imagined this situation was strange to him. If he did not want them here, but only allowed them to be present at Thagiel’s request, it proved what a role Thagiel played here in the court, what influence he could bring to bear. In the ride back to the royal apartments, she again found her eyes drawn to the White Tower. Could it be where he resided? It had not occurred to her before.

Was Thagiel chattel to be argued over by heads of state? Was he a revered protector? Was he an advisor to men? Was he a brother to Constance? Thoughts wheeled in her head, and Adolphus, who had said relatively little for the past few hours, broke the silence in his answer to her unspoken questions.

“He is lonely. No Engel, be he changed or not, could find solace in such a den of vanity and artifice. I know Thagiel of old, when he was but a postulant with nigh grown wings and no hair on his small form. He cried once, missing Heaven, in my arms. He is here because his home was lost to him, and in the mad of the lonely he found a false one.”

Luriel was shocked, but could not speak. Tears came to her eyes, for Adolphus himself cried for what had happened to his lost Engel charge. He told her of the fall of Trondheim. It was no tale of noble sacrifice or glorious salvation. The Inferno had bore down on the Himmel with surprise, with little warning or time for preparation. The Ab, Gundar, was driven unsound by the approaching destruction. No Engel was sent away from that fire. The mad Ab sent all Engel present into the fray, destroying the hopes for the future of the order. All Engel a few days flight from the Himmel had been recalled, and they died in that conflagration, as flames and Dreamseed filled the air.

Adolphus told Luriel how Thagiel had come back from his mission here in Vienna, to find where he had left his brethren and family now a black cloud billowed. He had plunged into the darkness, searching for a tower that no longer stood, almost dying in the process. Before coming here, he had vanished for months. No one knew what had happened to him, though legends existed that he had been “thrice-tempted”. Then, at last, he had come here, joining the cause of enemies of the church. He had begun making enemies stronger in defiance of all his teachings.

As they neared their rest, Luriel suggested to Adolphus they change rooms. There were many threats abound, and she even worried Viktor might turn on them. Her trust in him had been shaken. She wanted to be in the room any assassin expected to find Adolphus within. He refused, and further refused to discuss it any further. He was tired, and retired to his chamber to sleep. He suggested she do the same, for in the morning they would see the traitor.

She told the others some of what had happened, Cassiel fretting, Mathiel listening in cold silence. She warned them to be on guard, for dangers might present themselves at any time. Mathiel seemed aloof, strangely pale. Luriel asked after him, but he told her he was fine, only tired. They were all tired. To their rooms they went, to sleep… and to dream of safer harbors.

Luriel had but just begun to drift into slumber, her mind whirling with the events of the dinner, when the note slid under her door. She picked it up, opening it. On a parchment page in a fine script was written a note to her.


You are expected. Fly alone to the White Tower at once. No delay will be accepted. Bring your hope and your desire to know.

T

[SotDX]

Luriel held the note in her hands, rereading its words. What do I do? She imagined flying there, seeing him, and realizing it was a mistake. Some cruel prank, designed to upset the delicate balance necessary for their purpose.

Or, more chilling, it was no prank. He had called her there, but only to destroy her without anyone knowing how she had died. He had killed Engel before. He would murder her on high.

But…

Perhaps it was possible he did want to see her. His note, mentioning her “desire to know”… it was as if he knew of her curiosity. How could he know of her? Was he only guessing, playing at a game of chance that all Ramielites would react the same with “how does he know me so well?”

Indecision rife, she opened the window. The White Tower reflected light from the city below, and atop it the open chamber was lit from within. He was there. Waiting. Waiting for her?

Knowing she was making a mistake she would never be able to correct, Luriel flew into the sky through the window leaving the apartments and the world she knew behind her. Her friends slept in darkness. She escaped into the night, flying in the cool rain.

Landing on the platform of the tower, she steadied herself. She had left all weapons behind, wanting no risk of misperceived threat. It was daring, perhaps even foolhardy, but she would walk in hands open in a show of peace. Let the traitor see her as not an enemy. Not today.

The light from inside the chamber ahead was dim, and a smell of incense wafted into the night air. Luriel stepped forward, unsure, and began to enter. Then she heard his voice. Liquid silver, smooth and firm, it penetrated the silence and patter of the rain. It was the voice of a god.

“Luriel, it is time to come out of the rain.”

Afraid, Luriel stepped into the chamber. Wind chimes tinkled above, and around her were shelves filled with books and oddities. Wires ran from devices to other machines. Strange metal contraptions hung suspended from the ceiling. The chamber was circular, and a peace she recognized permeated it. It was as stepping into a Himmel, except in this lair no man ever entered. This was a tower where entry was by wing and wind only.

Then she saw him, as he stepped forth form the shadows- Thagiel, thrice-tempted, traitor Engel, last of the Raguelites. Never had she seen such an old Engel. To human eyes he would appear nearly thirty, his form firm and strong. His wings! They were covered in Engelic scriptum, something Luriel found unnatural and yet alluring. He wore a black robe open at the chest. His skin was covered in thick markings, denser and more intricate than any she had ever seen. They glowed, by God, his markings glowed with gold light. His face, though, was the strangest of all. Despite the intricate Engelic script which covered him, even covering his white wings, none was on his face. A single marking adorned his fore-head, a marking she had never seen in any Engelic script before. This was the triple-circle… a triple-crown.

He looked at her, his eyes golden in the dark. This was an Engel, Luriel thought. More than any she had ever laid eyes on, this was truly a glorious figure of power and beauty. How could any believe this being before her was a dark and evil figure? His marks glowed with golden light, and Luriel stood speechless. These many days dreaming of meeting the figure of mystery, and now, before him, she was unable to think. What should she say to him? She was nothing before him, a shadow in his golden light.

The silence was broken by his sonorous voice. He stepped forward, his eyes flashing in the dim light reflected.

“Luriel, welcome. You were expected.”

Expected? How could she have been expected? She was only a simple Ramielite on her first mission for the Church. Who even knew of her to expect her? Her eyes were filled with questions, and fear. He stepped toward her, his form that of a large man to her child-like Engelic body. He towered over her, imposing, a winged god. His eyes met hers, and Luriel began to panic. An animal instinct from the base of her being screamed for her to run, fly from the tower, never return!

“Child, you do not know what you are. You are lost.”

Luriel spoke then, her pride fuel enough to shatter her speechlessness. All need for decorum or delicate balance gone, she declared to him she knew what she was. She was an Engel of the Lord!

He reached out and stroked her cheek gently.

“So sweet and young… so innocent you are. You are much more than a simple Ramielite. You are Luriel. You will learn what it means to be that. You may be lost, but you will find.”

He then turned from her, walking to a set of chairs cut for Engel and their wings. He sat, and called to his side in a strange language Luriel did not recognize. A figure appeared from the recesses of the room, clanking as it walked. A metal man carrying a tray with a teapot and two small cups approached them. Luriel was stunned! A man made of metal!

Thagiel did not take a cup from the metal man, only sitting and watching Luriel with his golden eyes. She sat, and reached out for a cup from the tray the metal being offered. Unsure of how to respond, wanting to be courteous before her host, she offered a thank you to the lifeless form before her. To this, Thagiel reacted. He began to laugh, with a manic energy, tossing his head down and nearly doubling over. Was he not sane? Luriel watched him with alarm as his laugh ended as it had begun.

He raised his head, and smiled an inhuman smile at her. The emotion of his eyes was unreadable, making her think he suffered from some delirium. Unsure of what to do, she slowly sipped from her drink. Thagiel reached out and placed his large hand over her cup.

“This tea you drink has not been known since before the floods. The making of it was lost until I unearthed it some time past. Drink of time lost, Luriel. Drink it deeply.”

His words unsettled her, but the gift of such a treasure eased her discomfort. One moment he laughed at her words, the next sharing a wonder from history. What was this being? Could it be an Engel? Had age unhinged him? He had lived near a decade past the age Engel must ascend. Had the mortal world corrupted him completely?

Luriel tried to speak again, asking him why he had expected her. She had not been part of the mission’s purpose. Adolphus was here for him, not her.

“I knew of your coming, as I know of you. I know what happened to you there on the platform in Prague, the dark fell beast nearly slaying you as you watched it approach. A friend Engel it was not, but death coming to claim you before your moment. And I know of what you see. Do you deny the visions?”

Luriel was shocked. He could not know such things of her. She denied the attack. She denied ever having visions. He knew too much about her. Before, when he said she was “no simple Ramielite”, it was as if he had heard her thoughts. He was dangerous. So very dangerous!

He told her it was his gift from time that he could feel when other Engel approached.

“It was this sense that saved me when the fools were sent to kill me. No Engel can approach me without my knowing. I knew of you thus, but I know more than that alone. I ask you this, Luriel; do you have any older Engel who you confide in, who you consider as close as Engel can be to one another?”

Luriel nodded, answering Jaciel. Thagiel’s eyes narrowed to slits, and his face twitched.

“Has Jaciel ever mentioned that he has seen fewer and fewer younger Engel being called? That the Abs seem ever more careful with the missions they send Engel on, worrying over loosing their champions greater than before?”

Luriel nodded, telling Thagiel of what Jaciel had told her in the quiet moments before the storm had broke at Groten. Oh Jaciel, she wondered, what have I got myself into? She felt as if the figure across from her would devour her in any moment.

“It is to be expected since Trondheim fell. The day of Engel is darkening, Luriel. I warn you this, if you care for Jaciel and he is an elder, do not let him ascend. Believe me, it would be a great wrong to let him go.”

Thagiel stood up, and walked away from the chairs. He asked Luriel if she knew of the City Lords’ plans to use technology against the Dreamseed. She said what she knew, and he nodded.

“There are few hopes left for humanity against the hordes of darkness, but if they abandon the power of thought we are all lost. I have advised Viktor that while Isabella is a fool, she is a cunning one. We must arm. We must fight. Man can beat back the darkness, but not through winged proxy and sharpened blade alone. He must harness the power of his mind.”

Luriel stood up, unsure how to respond. She asked, was it not a danger for man to embrace technology? Had it not brought the floods and the plague? She ached to see his views as right, for it did seem a madness to ignore the power of science, but there was danger on that path. Was she wrong?

Thagiel stood in the center of his chamber, looking down. He raised his head, his face a mask of anger, and then calmed.

“Luriel, I tire of our discussion. We shall speak again, and soon. You should leave now so as to avoid being missed and causing repercussions. You will speak to no one of our meeting. Not even Adolphus. You will bring my old…”

He paused, a moment of recollection on his face. Nostalgia? Lament?

“Bring my old nonnus here promptly at first light. Leave him on the balcony without coming in. There are things the old man will have to say to me, uncomfortable things, and having you present will make it far worse. I am already lost. Loosing you would destroy him. The sins of the church would pull us all into hell if we allowed them.”

With this said, he approached her with his hand extended. Luriel thought him to be making a gesture of farewell, but she glimpsed for only a moment the symbol from his forehead form on the palm of his outstretched hand. The triple-circles glowed brightly, and he moved quickly to place his hand on her forehead. Luriel was seized by a feeling of warmth running through her body, her skin prickling. It was ecstasy and agony intertwined. What was happening! She wanted to scream, to cry out, but she couldn’t move. What dark magic was he working on her?

Images flashed in her mind. A river. A dark figure with hideous deformities speaking. Smoke and screams. What madness was this? What was he showing her in this blur of nightmares?

Then, Thagiel’s face pained in agony, he pulled his hand from her head and stumbled away. Luriel, her forehead burning, ran from the room and fled into the sky. She flew, as fast as she could, horrified as to what had happened. What had he done to her? Her forehead was warm, and tingled. She kept thinking he had put something into her, but all he had done was touch her.

The images repeated, still insensible, as she made it to her window and collapsed to the floor. A man, who looked as Viktor did, but older. A boy, almost a man, with Viktor’s eyes looking at her with admiration and awe. Were these memories? Had Thagiel inserted his memories into her mind?

Her forehead still itched and burned, and she rose to look in the mirror. Before her, in glowing majesty, burned Thagiel’s triple-crown!

[SotDX]

As Luriel looked into the mirror with horror at the mark on her forehead, something changed in her senses. Her hearing was affected first. She became aware of sounds she should not hear. She could hear the labored snoring of Adolphus as if he was beside her even though he was a thick wall away. Rythe’s soft breathing echoed in her ears. Even the gentle breath of Cassiel and Mathiel was as thunder to her trembling auditory nerves.

She stood, hands covering her violated ears, uncertain as to what was happening. She could hear the servants in their night-chores in the floors beneath. The wet explosion of each raindrop on the roof above. There was another sound, though. One that made her skin tingle. She focused on it, trying to suppress the din of the others.

Yes, she heard something. The sound of scratching against stone, and in some way, she knew from where it came. She could feel the sound’s position beneath Adolphus’s window against the wall of the building. Something came for him! She leaped out the window acting on instinct and adrenalin.

Landing on the exterior windowsill of his chamber, she scanned the darkness. The lights outside had been extinguished at some point before, plunging the wall and surrounding grounds into lightless black. What had happened to the exterior lights? Luriel had returned from Thagiel’s tower in such a state she had failed to notice the change.

Frustrated, she listened closer. In the dimmest of ways she heard breathing below her. She had no torch, was unarmed, and had only her wits and seemingly enhanced sense. With growing certainty, she felt the breathing become louder and came to know the source. Someone was on the ground at the foot of the wall hiding in the darkness.

With no fear and only the safety of her charge in mind Luriel flew down with speed hoping to catch her prey by surprise. Unfortunately, she was the one caught. The man she heard breathing was not on the ground, but on the wall halfway between the ground and Adolphus’s window. As Luriel flew by, he fired a weapon at her which deafened her. She was unhurt by the gun’s discharge, but her head ached from the explosion of his gunfire. Luriel reached the ground, her ears ringing and then fading away into silence. She could not hear his breathing, or his movement.

She stared up into the darkness, and at once the darkness was burned away in white light. It was as if the sun had suddenly burst from cloudless skies pouring its brilliant light down on the world. Luriel could clearly see the large figure scaling the wall, his form shining in the day-night. Not sure what was happening, Luriel took the air again, racing to his form in hopes of pulling him from the wall and fighting him to the ground. Somewhere in the dim recesses of her mind she acknowledged that it was still pitch black, and yet she could see with great clarity. Her ears had ceased their amazing capture of the world, so perhaps her eyes were taking their turn?

The figure on the wall was clothed in a heavy thick suit, his feet clad in large metal boots somehow aiding him in scaling the wall. His hands were within metal gloves, and his face hidden by some hood and mask with round lenses for eyes. She realized he could see in the darkness by some unknown means, for he turned to her (suspended by one hand and two boots) holding a large gun aimed directly at her.

With grace, Luriel dodged to her left as her vision was filled with a bright muzzle-flash. Her surprise at the silence of the shot (when before it had been as thunder) was followed by a feeling of pain in her right shoulder where the shot had grazed her. She reached the figure, and with arms outstretched grabbed hold of him ripping him from the wall.

As he struggled, cursing her in a language she did know, she carried him into the air, planning to subdue him and learn his true purpose and who had sent him. She felt proud of herself at seizing him, but her new vision began to fade back into darkness and the dim lights of the city and night. Luriel was unprepared for such rapid ocular changes, and her prey took advantage of her bewilderment and struck back. Pulling forth a large rod, the masked figure jammed the sparking weapon into Luriel’s hip.

Flames leapt up the Engel’s nerves as the weapon shocked and burned her. Luriel in a state of agony, the two dropped from the air into a river which ran through the Palace gardens. The cold water drove Luriel from the system shock of her enemy’s weapon, and she swam from the depths of the river to the surface. It was dark here in the garden, and the last vestiges of her seeming night-vision had passed. The assassin, if that had been his intent, was gone with no sign. Sure of her relative safety, Luriel touched her hip and grimaced. The skin was burned under her robe from the intensity of the shock. She had never felt a weapon such as that, and wondered if it was not unlike being struck by a small lightning bolt.

Taking to the air, Luriel flew the short distance back to the apartment. Flying near, she found all the lights to have been ignited, and guards running around the outside of the building. Landing, she heard Sebastian calling out orders. He looked worried and concerned until he caught sight of Luriel. He hurried over to her.

Her burned hip itching, Luriel quickly told Sebastian what had transpired. He grew pale at the mention of possible assassins, and began to apologize to Luriel for the lax attention of the guardsmen. Silent as the weapon of the enemy had been, it at least had been overheard as she struggled with the wall-climber. If she had not overheard him, though, he might not have been noticed at all.

With this grim realization in her head, Luriel knew there would be no safety for her and her fellows in Vienna. They would have to be vigilant and protect themselves, or death would be their only reward. It was then that Luriel overheard Rythe shouting from the inner reaches of the apartment. Pushing past Sebastian, she flew up the stairs and found Rythe and Cassiel armed and ready to fight a small force of guardsmen. Rythe was demanding Luriel be found and the guardsmen leave the floor, for he saw what was happening as a possible ruse for Vienna to eliminate Adolphus under the conceit of “protecting” him. Seeing Luriel approach, he calmed. Luriel reassured Rythe and Cassiel, and then entered Adolphus’s room to check him herself.

The old nonnus sat on the edge of his bed pale and shivering. He held his journal in his hands, perhaps as a talisman to ward off hypothetical evils lurking beyond the four walls around him. He would need more that a book of writings, no matter how learned or introspective.

With frightened eyes Adolphus looked up at Luriel, the fear in his eyes palpable. He had realized that his death had been but feet from his window. A feeling of anger raged through Luriel. If only the old fool had listened to her when she suggested changing rooms. Viktor had all but told them there would be an attack, and he had not listened to her. Poor old men such as Adolphus must learn to listen to their Engel!

This prideful rage vanished as she saw his face soften and he asked in his caring voice if she was hurt? Unable to maintain her anger, Luriel went to him and reassured him she was alright but for a bruise and scratch. He wanted to know what had happened. As she began to tell him, some of the old strength returned to him. His eyes were alert.

She told him of the gloves and boots that seemed to let the assassin climb the sheer wall. At the mention of his goggles and gun Adolphus muttered to himself.

“Sadija. It must be the Machine. Damn technology will be the death of me yet.”

Luriel paused, unsure of what he meant or the meaning of his words. It did seem that the assassin had been using items of forbidden technology, but she did not understand what he meant. Urging him to explain, he nodded and coughed.

“Luriel, I’m a threat to more than the Urbanis League. I was a Raguelite nonnus before I came to Prague. When our order fell, certain elements of it became twisted. And I do not mean Thagiel. There is a woman named Sadija, once a begine of my previous order, who founded a cult. This cult takes a certain interest in Thagiel and his relationship to the enemies of the church. They see me as a force that could disrupt that relationship. They openly explore and use technology. Worse yet, some of them use those secrets to aid them as assassins.”

Sighing, Adolphus prepared to return to bed. He urged her to have Cassiel see to her wounds, minor though they may be, and get some additional rest herself.

“Whatever risk there is from Viktor, there are sufficient guards and lights outside to keep us safe for the moment. Sleep now, for tomorrow you see Thagiel for the first time.”

Adolphus prayed it would not be the last time they saw him, for in his heart he feared using the weapon the Pontifex had ordered him to deliver as a last resort. It was a desperate measure they resorted to in a city of evil. And, Adolphus feared, it had a fool’s hope of succeeding.

Closing her nonnus’s door, Luriel felt the pangs of guilt for not telling him about Thagiel. How could she not? She risked so much by seeing him. The thought of the brand on her forehead returned, and she touched her forehead feeling for it. None of her Fellowship had reacted to the sight of it! Was it gone? Perhaps it was a figment of her imagination, some after-effect of what he had done to her.

Rythe did not wish to leave his charge alone, and entered the room they shared with no plans of sleeping. Cassiel walked into Luriel’s room, worrying over her in his usual way. He healed her scratched shoulder where the bullet had done only small damage, and she told him of her burned hip. Raising her robe, she found the angry burn was gone. She looked in her mirror, Cassiel not yet seeing the wound’s absence, and confirmed for herself the skin was clear and free of blackened flesh.

Had the vision and hearing now healed her? What had Thagiel done to her in his insane sanctum above the city? Now, with the thought of him and the incense scent of his chamber, her forehead warmed as his mark reappeared. Hoping to hide this from Cassiel was hopeless. He had seen it, and cocked his head to the side examining it.

“What is that? That is no burn. It looks like signum, but no markings I’ve ever seen before? Are you hurt?”

Luriel turned from him.

“I’m find, Cassiel. Do not worry over it. It is merely a temporary memento of my struggle with the assassin. I’m… I’m well enough now to rest. Please leave me and get some rest yourself.”

Cassiel looked at her. She hoped to hide the deceit in her eyes, but she was no master at deception. There, reflected in his eyes, her weak lie turned into distrust and hurt. Cassiel could tell she was lying, but he would not ask her why. He nodded to her, expressed his joy she had not been more seriously hurt, affirmed her as a most glorious Engel, and left her feeling small and wicked.

What would the future of her Fellowship be, she worried? She had betrayed Cassiel’s trust in her just as it was blossoming. And something else bothered her… something that was missing. As she crossed her room it occurred to her.

In the shouting, arguing, running of guards, and the general chaos of the past half hour Mathiel had been silent, asleep in his chamber. Why had he not risen at the sound of battle?

Where was her strong right hand?

[SotDX]

Adolphus dreamed.

He was a younger man, a time when his bones did not ache and his heart was whole. He stood in a chamber where the Baptists had left their charges, and he waited with expectation and great interest. Before him were the new postulants, Engel fresh from their long descent from Heaven above. He had only been a nonnus for a year, and it was still new to him. He was eager to see the young hairless ones rise up and look about them with curiosity and divine love.

His father would have been proud of him, he thought. He had risen to such heights (both figuratively and literally) in the Raguelite Order. It was no small thing to be named a nonnus, entrusted with the rearing and teaching of the tender Engel. The world was growing dark outside, and the new Engel were much needed.

At last the tired Engel opened their child-like eyes and began to stand up. Their wings were not yet full grown, as they entered the world in forms no larger than a child of seven or eight. He had been taught the danger of seeing the Engel as only children, for their appearance at such a state could easily belie their true nature. Still, childless as he was himself, he felt a calling to these seeming children to reassure them and comfort them. Perhaps he wished to be father to them, if such was not heresy to dream.

He stepped into the chamber, listening to the murmured Latin of the confused Engel. Their journey was said to be arduous, and after being spoken to by the blessed Archangel, they were brought here to begin their long period of study and preparation for the world of war. The second crusade was enfolding outside the airy halls of the Himmel, and these Engelic child-like beings would be the deciding force in the ending of the war. Before him was the hope of all.

Adolphus stepped through the ranks of the Engel, ready to catch any that found themselves off-balance. They looked so weak to him, so fragile. It was a good thing the postulants would not leave the Himmel until they were stronger. Adolphus felt a tug on his robe, and he turned to find a very young Engel watching him.

The youthful appearing postulant, who appeared to Adolphus eye’s as a child not older than seven, stood up strong and tall. His hairless naked body and delicate underformed wings did not shiver or quake in the confusion of the hall. The Engel met Adolphus’s eyes with calm and serenity, his face free of any signs of fear or alarm.

In simple Latin the boy-Engel spoke, an uncommon thing for postulants to be able to do so quickly after arriving.

“You are teacher. Please, teach me. Teach me all.”

Adolphus’s face broke into an uncontrolled grin at the raw curiosity and interest. Placing his cloaked arm around the boy-Engel, Adolphus walked with him out of the chamber. This uncommonly gifted Engel would be his chosen postulant, his selected student of choice. He asked the young Engel if he already knew his name, unsure if his Latin would be understood well enough to receive an answer.

“Yes, it is so. I am the one who was and is called Thagiel.”

Adolphus dreamed.

Thagiel was unpleased with the answer he had received. He paced back and forth within the chamber, his wings unconsciously flexing with nervous energy.

“Adolphus, I do not understand. How could the battle of Jerusalem have been such a failure? We are the instruments of the lord. Why did not the archangels rise forth from each Himmel and smote the Dreamseed in utter ruin?”

Adolphus nodded, tapping his finger to his lips listening to his student’s rant. How to best answer? It was an important lesson for any postulant, and perhaps most important for one so gifted as his dear Thagiel. He would be an Engel of great renown and importance, Adolphus felt, but he had to learn this lesson or his life would be short and brutal.

“Thagiel, it is true that the Engel are instruments of the Lord. The Lord of the Flies, however, is our enemy. The second crusade was called because after ten long years of peace the darkness rose from all around. The Dreamseed are varied and great in number. They are a match for even the mightiest of Engel. When you fight them, there is a very real risk you will die. Do you understand me? You are not so better than such mindless beasts if they gather an assault you from all around. The mightiest Gabrielites have fallen under their bite and claw. Without cunning, speed, luck and the realization that you are not impervious to harm, you will die in battle with them.”

Thagiel, first ready to argue with Adolphus, turned and nodded to his nonnus. The human made an excellent point. He had felt his arrogance and pride grow in the past months, and he saw the same sign in many of his kin. Perhaps this was the great untold weakness of all Engel: pride.

“You speak words of wisdom and I do hear. I only feel the need to go forth and fight these monsters myself. How long must I be a postulant?”

Adolphus knew Thagiel to be his best student. In the years to come, he would always feel no Raguelite had come close to the potential of his great prodigy.

And still, Adolphus dreamed.

Why had it happened? The Himmel was burning behind them, the Brandlands stretched into the distance, and the Raguelite Order had been destroyed. Choking on the smoke and smell of burning flesh, Adolphus stumbled looking over his shoulder. He had left the Himmel with many others not long before the attack, but he had felt a coward and betrayer in doing so. The Engel were not leaving. They stayed in their Himmel and flew the sky preparing to fight the unfightable.

In his heart, Adolphus already knew they were dead. The moment may not have come yet when the black clouds of Dreamseed fell upon them and the burning Inferno roared into the Himmel’s walls, but it would happen. Perhaps it had already happened. He could take comfort in the knowledge that Thagiel, his first Engel he had taught himself, and his brightest bravest prodigy, would survive the day. Thagiel had been sent away on distant matters far away from Trondheim.

Not all Engel were so lucky. The Ab, Gundar, had ordered all to stay at the Himmel. Many from parts distant had been recalled to do nothing but wait for the battle to come. It was madness. The old lesson he had always struggled to teach the most prideful Engel was now to be their death. Gundar himself ignored reality. Hell came for them in black wings and burning blaze. Death was the only reward for the poor Engels’ loyalty to a deranged Ab.

As the long train of refuges and monachs walked south, unknowing of the fate of their Ab or Himmel, all Adolphus could do was pray and hope. Perhaps a miracle would come to save their fates.

Still, he reassured himself, all hope was not lost, for Thagiel had not been called home.

And with tears, Adolphus dreamed.

[SotDX]

The light of morning warmed Luriel’s cold skin. For a moment, at the cusp of waking, she was home in the Himmel. Jaciel was waiting for her, pacing in the library in preparation for another expedition into the past. Adolphus, full of life, contemplated the past with reverence, remembering fallen Engel and lessons past. In the cusp of waking all was joyful, familiar, and home.

Luriel opened her eyes and the bright light of morning burned away her soft dreams. With a sharp pain in her stomach, recognition came of where she was and what had happened. Standing, she approached the mirror, certain to find Thagiel’s harsh imprint in her reflection. Instead, she saw only a Ramielite Engel. She was unmolested and unmarked. Had it vanished? Had it even happened?

The knock at her door banished her thoughts for the moment, for her Fellowship awaited her. Cassiel and Mathiel were eager to make their presence known to the sole Church presence in the city, a small Raphaelite hospital/monastery allowed by the grace of Satrap Constance. Of all the orders, only the Raphaelites had the solitary privilege of a place in anti-Church lands. In turn, the doors of the hospital were open to any and all who sought aid or help in illness and injury.

Cassiel wished to make their safe arrival known to the Ab of the Monastery, and there was an ulterior motive to his request. Both Mathiel and Cassiel had been ill at ease since crossing into the lands of the heretic. The strangeness of the city held no fascination for them, for they did not possess the insatiable curiosity of their leader. These two Engel craved the peace and calm of the lands of the Church in any fashion they could have them.

Luriel told them they could go without her, for she was waiting for word of Adolphus’s meeting with Thagiel. She thought it was certain she would need to fly him to the rebel Engel’s tower. Before sending the two on their way, though, Luriel noticed Mathiel’s color as more pale than the evening before. He looked ill, as if he had been without rest for some time. She began to question him, asking after his state of being, but was cut off when Rythe called for her from Adolphus’s chamber. She sent them on their way, worries of Mathiel eclipsed by the call of duty.

Adolphus was dressed and prepared, a large bound book under his arm and determination in his eyes. A letter had been received, apparently from Thagiel, stating that Adolphus was to be flown to the tower at once. It stated explicitly that he was to be left at the landing alone and enter without accompaniment. Rythe’s eyes were filled with worry, clearly unhappy that he would not be able to accompany his charge into the cloudy sky. Luriel, though, looked at the note and knew it to be the same writing as the one she had received the night before. The time had come.

As Luriel opened the window and helped Adolphus step out onto the ledge, she caught a glimpse of excitement in his eyes. She asked him if he had flown in the arms of an Engel before. As she lifted off he answered.

“Only once. When the great fire and smoke fell on my Himmel. I mean… on Trondheim. I was carried from the high walls to the running mob on the ground below. I remember the smell of the Inferno, its heat… it was still so far away…”

Luriel waited for him to finish, unable to see his face as she flew up towards the white tower. He said nothing more.

Landing at the tower’s entrance, Adolphus straightened his robes. Luriel wished him safety and wisdom, but he stopped her from leaving. He told her that he wanted her to enter with him and meet Thagiel. Had he not read the letter? She tried to argue with him, reminding him of the nature of their instructions from that very morning! He would not listen, half-pulling her with him into the interior.

For the second time, Luriel entered the incense and shadow-laden lair of a being that was not meant to be. Adolphus seemed to be suffused with pride, eager to introduce his great Ramielite charge to his favorite Raguelite. The figure that stepped from the shadows was not the strong and balanced leader of Engel he remembered. Before him Thagiel stood, the thrice-tempted, cursed renegade, enemy of the Church. His countenance blazed in alien golden light, his eyes suffused with angry glow.

Both Luriel and Adolphus jumped at the sound of his anger. He demanded to know why his simple instructions had been ignored! This was unacceptable. Adolphus was to have come alone. How dare he bring such a child-cur of an Engel with him as a lap-dog! Stunned by his insults, Luriel was only dimly aware of the dawning horror on Adolphus’s face. In his heart, he had resisted the rumors and stories of what his favorite son had become. Now, before him, he faced the brutal reality. Thagiel was a creature of darkness.

Before a response could be uttered by either, Thagiel’s persona changed. It was as if a light had been switched on, the color of a filter exchanged. His hard face softened, and he approached them with a somber passiveness.

“Forgive me. I have grown rigid in my ways, and am not use to any defying my will when it comes to my sanctum. Please, allow me to introduce myself to your Engel protector.”

Adolphus nodded, swallowing, still not speaking. Thagiel approached Luriel as if he had never seen her in his long life, certainly not meeting her the night before. He bowed to her, and took her hand. Luriel was prepared for the return of mad visions, the burning of her forehead, the reappearance of his mark. Nothing happened. He turned back to Adolphus, greeting him with some warmth.

Luriel had a sudden urge to demand explanation of what he had done her. She wanted to reveal his deviltry in the light of day before Adolphus, and not rest until the renegade explained himself. The urge passed, but it was strong. Dangerously strong.

Adolphus, his face a mask of hidden fear and worry, ordered Luriel to fly back to the apartments and wait for his call. Thagiel interrupted to assure her she would receive a message from the tower as soon as Adolphus was ready to return to the earth below. She was uneasy about leaving him here. Thagiel seemed so imbalanced, possibly violent. Still, she had no choice. She only hoped that her old nonnus could find a way through the past to find a common ground to work from with Thagiel. She did not know the exact nature of what the Church wanted from Thagiel, but she had faith Adolphus could gain it with time and luck.

Leaving the two with a final glance, she caught Thagiel’s eye. He winked at her, and she heard his voice. He spoke to her without words.

“Do not fear for the old man. He is as a father to me. The only harm he will come to in my presence will be that which he causes to himself.”

With such cryptic reassurance, Luriel took flight. Instead of returning to the apartments, she flew to the location of her fellowship. They would be eager to hear of the completion of their portion of the mission. In truth, she was also eager to be on familiar Church surroundings. Her great curiosity notwithstanding, Thagiel had placed a chill into her she hoped the healing ways of the Order of Raphael could warm.

[SotDX]

The gentle rain washed over Luriel as she landed inside the walled fortress/hospital in the western outskirts of Vienna. The people of the city were welcome here with their needs for cure from sickness and injury, but it was an outpost in a potentially hostile land. Templars watched its thick walls. She could see alarm on the faces of some of the guardsmen as she flew over until they knew from her form that she was not the betrayer come from his cursed tower.

She wiped the water from her face as she entered the single large edifice, leaving the wet strangeness of the city outside. Inside, she found a world of familiar scents and sights. Robed begines and monachs busied themselves in their tasks. The emblems and signs of the Church marked this as a place of sacredness.

Yet, as she walked into what should feel like home, something was not right. The candles and torchlights seemed crude, the humid air base, and the nature of the place too simple. Compared to the glamour in sound and sights in the court of Constance this outpost seemed backwards. She was ashamed to think such thoughts, but the comparison was invoked without wanting it. She felt comfort in one thing, though, despite her heretical reaction. As more sophisticated as she found the ways of these heretic lands, they did not feel like home either.

As Luriel realized she was a creature caught between two worlds, a begine approached and greeted her. Luriel greeted the servant of the church, and informed her that she was searching for her two companions from her Fellowship. She wondered if there were other Engel here. Would their presence be tolerated by Thagiel, if he could sense any heaven-sent who flew near? It appeared that no other Engel were present, for the begine immediately showed recognition at the mention of her fellow Engel.

The begine’s face grew worried, and she told Luriel what had happened. One of her Engelic companions had fallen ill and had been carried into a chamber inside. Luriel did not let her finish, demanding to know where they were. The begine nodded, and led her through the halls. Luriel’s mind flashed with terrible thoughts. Mathiel was dying, maybe already dead. The bite of that beast in the darkness beneath the earth had done this to him. She knew it. He was dead, and it was her fault. She had broken her promise.

As she followed the begine, she was dimly aware of the cots filled with the various sick and infirm the hospital cared for. Some mumbled incoherently, others coughed and spat. The house of healing was filled with the sick and dying, as is the way of things. At last, the begine led Luriel up a short curved stairwell and opened the single door at the end of the steps. Luriel could smell the sickly sweet scent of death as she entered, and her heart broke. Yes, he was dead. Brave Mathiel gone.

Stepping inside, she found Cassiel kneeling over him, Mathiel’s drawn form laid out beneath the small stone chamber’s sole window. She could barely speak, afraid to confirm her fears. At last she said Cassiel’s name, gaining his attention. He turned, stood, and gave a look of relief at the sight of Luriel to melt her heart. The eyes that greeted her had no presence of anger or distrust from the events of the night before. Either he had forgiven her for lying to him, or he had forgotten in his worry over poor Mathiel.

Mathiel was breathing, but it was labored. He was incredibly pale and flushed, sweat glistening on his brow. Engel were not of a nature to sweat, and yet he lay before her sick and possibly dying. Luriel asked Cassiel what had happened, what did he think was wrong with Mathiel?

“He was weak this morning, but he told me he felt stronger. He made the flight here, but spoke little. He seemed so distracted, as if his attention was focused on something else entirely. He did not respond when I would try to speak with him. Then, after we landed, he had just stepped inside the hospital when he fell to his knees. I believe he has been suffering a raging fever all morning but refused to say anything of it. He, he just passed out before me.”

Cassiel was upset, nearly in a panic. Luriel tried to reassure him, and adjusted the cooling cloths placed on Mathiel. Was it the creature’s bite?

“When I use my gifts I can sense an infection. It is not anything I have felt before or heard of. Some Dreamseed are said to have infectious bites that can bring even a strong Engel to death. Still, whatever this is, it resists my efforts. I am powerless to heal him and the infection is getting stronger.”

Luriel nodded, feeling powerless herself. She had brought this upon Mathiel in her search for the case. What if it resulted in nothing? Would Mathiel die for her dream fantasies? Surely there was some other more powerful Engel that could help. Older Raphaelites had healing powers able to pull back the dead, make the infertile pregnant, and cure even the gravest of injuries. Poor Cassiel was young, and his powers were as limited as her own.

A begine entered the chamber with fresh water and cloths to help tend the sick. She nodded with reverence to the Engel present and went to Mathiel. Luriel asked her if there were any Raphaelite Engel present in the hospital other than Cassiel. Surely such a place of healing would have one present. The begine told them that only two Raphaelite Engel were allowed at the hospital, and then only five days each month by order of the Diadoche. They were much needed, the begine said, but Viktor Constance was inflexible about the limitation.

Luriel sighed, her question as to other Engel being allowed in Vienna answered. Mathiel would die if not treated soon, his fever getting worse and they powerless to fight whatever was killing him. It was so strange. Engel rarely became ill, for their divine nature made them shrug off all but the worse toxins and poisons. She remembered the way Mathiel’s signum had vanished where the creature had bit him. What had the night creature done to him?

The begine then told Luriel that they were in luck, for two Raphaelite Engel were expected tomorrow to spend their five days. Help would be coming, and surely such experienced healers could end the distemper upon their fellow. The begine asked Luriel if she was not part of the Fellowship that had met with Viktor and been welcomed by his court. When she found such was the case, the begine asked if she would not make a petition to Constance to allow at least one Raphaelite to stay continuously at the hospital.

Luriel told the begine she would consider it, and sent her on her way. Alone with Cassiel, Luriel shut the door to the chamber and sat down on the floor. At the moment when things seemed to have been going right darkness had intruded. Adolphus was at last at their goal, and still her fellows were falling.

Cassiel kneeled beside her, his face betraying the emotion he felt for Luriel. He told her it was not her fault. She could not have known the creature was there waiting to strike, and even then she had saved Mathiel fighting the beast with bravery and valor. Soon stronger healers would come, and Mathiel would be saved. He was weak and fading, but Cassiel was sure he would survive the night.

Luriel stood up, the guilt in her heart a heavy burden. Cassiel did not know what she had told Mathiel of the dark cave, what she had found, or of the visions she had had. Secrets. She did not wish to hold them, and yet she kept them still. She told Cassiel she was going to return to the apartments and wait for the signal to retrieve Adolphus from the tower. She did not want him to be trapped there waiting for her. She wanted Cassiel to return as well, leaving Mathiel in the care of the monachs and begines of his own order. He needed to rest, and by his own admission he could do no more for Mathiel.

Cassiel refused. He wanted to stay watching over Mathiel, and there were many in the hospital that desperately needed assistance. Some would not survive the night waiting for other Engel to come. He would do what he could for them, putting himself at service to the hospital until he was needed elsewhere. Luriel knew him well enough to see danger in that. He would nearly kill himself, trying to help all he could. His powers would drain him to the point of collapse just as had occurred in the attack on St. Terrels. Still, she could tell he was fixed in his mind. Sighing, she relented and told him she would return to him when she could.

She left him in Mathiel’s chamber, looking back one last time at the two remaining Engel of her fellowship. One dying, the other lost in worry. Shutting the door to the chamber, she cursed herself as a fool of a leader. Unsure of the route back to the entrance to the hospital, she turned down a corridor she had not passed through on the way in. The hall was filled with sleeping patients, all who appeared to be quite ill. One in particular had a red stained bandage around his head and mumbled in his sleep. Luriel considered turning back and going a different route when a mumbled word caught her attention.

“Maetoth.”

Luriel turned to the patient with the head-wound, and listened. Again, softly muttered, was the word “Maetoth”. Luriel approached his bed, and looked at his bruised face. He was muttering incoherent sounds, and seemed to be speaking in his sleep. Drool dripped from the corner of his mouth in a long strand.

A begine approached and greeted Luriel. As she tended to the mumbling patient, the begine told her how tragic his case was. He had suffered a terrible head-wound when a large object fell from a construction site onto him. His brain had been injured in the impact, and he was in a comatose state. He would never wakeup again. Luriel listened to the begine, and then leaned in close to the patient.

“Did you say the word ‘Maetoth’ before?”

The begine was unsure of why the Engel asked a question of the patient, for he was unaware of his surroundings. No thoughts existed in his head, nor would they ever again. Luriel felt foolish, and started to pull away. The patients hand flew out and clasped onto her forearm. He pulled her close with incredible strength that she could not resist. His eyes opened, but they were empty whites.

“Must listen! You must fight what hurts him. He will die if you do not. The injury comes from an old sorcery and must be fought with sorcery. Even then, sorcery will not succeed alone.”

Luriel struggled with the vise grip the man had on her arm, and the begine covered her mouth in fear. The voice was slurred, but sounded familiar to Luriel’s ears.

“Listen to me. To defeat the sickness you must use both technology and sorcery together. You must combine the two into one force. It is the only way to win against the darkness… both inside and out.”

The begine let out a scream stumbling over the bed of another patient. The eyes of speaker closed, the grip loosened, and he fell back again asleep. Luriel had red marks on her arm where the fingers had griped so tightly. Had this been a message from Maetoth? Rubbing her arm, she met the stare of the begine. She nodded to the woman, stepping away. She left the questions of the young woman behind as she found the exit.

How could she fight the disease with sorcery and technology? It was madness. The Raphaelite Engel who would come tomorrow would resolve this with ease. As she stepped into the outside air and took flight, she reassured herself the power of Engel would save Mathiel.

[SotDX]

Luriel’s eyes were on the white tower as her body flew to the apartments. What was happening there above the city? Was Adolphus succeeding at his secretive goals? Would erratic Thagiel agree to the requests of the Church?

Landing in her room, she went to her nonnus’s chamber to inform Rythe of Mathiel’s health and to see if any word had been received from Adolphus as yet. Rythe was very concerned for the Urielite, but was solid in his faith that the Engel coming would return him to health. His faith in the power of Engel was unshakable and deep. No enemy could eclipse the perfect light of God’s warriors.

No word had come from Adolphus as yet, but Rythe was just as anxious as Luriel. Was he safe? The concept of a traitor Engel was abhorrent to the Templar. There was a knock at the door, and Luriel opened it eagerly. Sebastian nodded with respect and informed her that Viktor Constance had requested to speak with her immediately. If any word came from the tower regarding her charge, she would be informed at the palace. She agreed to come with him despite Rythe’s concerns, and left with the envoy of the Satrap.

Once at the palace, Luriel was led into the smaller chamber she had met with Viktor in after the dinner the night before. As she was led in, she found Viktor with a map of Europe spread before him. Gunter, the scarred military commander at Viktor’s side, quickly rolled up and removed the map as she entered. She wondered if they were planning something? Why remove the map?

Viktor greeted her, and immediately expressed what appeared honest concern over the attack on Adolphus. He was upset that anyone had made such an attempt with them under his protection and hospitality. He asked her to tell him what she saw of the assassin, though Luriel was certain he already knew the details. She had told Sebastian the night before, but again she repeated the description of the strange gloves and boots that appeared to let the man climb a sheer wall, of the silent gun, and lastly of the painful shock stick. Viktor listened, nodding. He turned to his other aid, the Haupt Tech, and asked him to tell Luriel about the Cult of the Machine.

Lukas, the Haupt (Chief) Tech, nodded and stepped forward. He explained to Luriel that the Cult of the Machine had a strong presence among the “tek-keeps” of the city, the technicians and engineers who maintained the technology and infrastructure of Vienna. Not all tek-keeps were members, but many were. The Cult was begun by a Raguelite begine who had been highly skilled in the arts of technology. They prized order and cold reason as their highest virtues, and had a pantheon that happened to include a local figure. The members of this order viewed Thagiel, an Engel who had come to help the enemies of the anti-technology Church, as a kind of saint. The Cult was strong in many free cities where it could flourish.

Some of this Luriel had heard before from Adolphus and other sources. She had learned both firsthand and from Adolphus that some members of the Cult used the arts of technology to aid them in assassination. They were killers who served both the purposes of the Cult and open bidders.

Viktor stopped Lucas here, and paused before speaking. After a moment, he told Luriel that he had feared that assassins would make an attempt on Adolphus life while he was here. Luriel glared back at him. He had known that these killers were present?! Viktor continued by telling her there was nothing he could do to entirely expel such threats from his city. He had never imagined they would so openly defy his authority and try to kill Adolphus under his protection. They defied his rule and he was displeased.

Luriel wondered if the Cult was not a constant threat to his power. What role did Lukas play between court and the Cult. Viktor told her his plan. He would ask Thagiel to make a proclamation to the members of the Cult in the city. They worshiped him as a god, and would listen to his request. Thagiel would tell them that Adolphus was present at his request and was under his protection, and that the man was not to be harmed. Viktor was convinced this action would effectively end the threat of future assassination attempts from the Cult of the Machine.

It was strange to Luriel to think of men worshiping Thagiel as a god. And she also was confused as to what exactly the relationship was between Viktor and the rebel Engel. He said he would ‘ask’ Thagiel to do this, not order him. The Cult would defy Viktor’s rule but bow before Thagiel’s request?

Viktor softened in mood, and made an impassioned plea to Luriel for her and the others of her Fellowship to not travel the city alone. He worried that even with the proclamation there would be other risks to them if they were unprotected by his men. She agreed. He nodded, relieved, and again offered her free exploration of the city as long as it was with chaperone. He did have a request, though.

She asked what his request was to gain access to the city. He told her he was extremely curious to hear what she thought. His only request for the privilege was for her to tell him the entire truth of what she thought of the ways and places of Vienna. Luriel could sense the truth in his voice. She gained insight into Constance then, a glimpse of why he was a successful ruler. He would listen to the wise opinions of those he found worthy, and was truly interested in what others thought. His mind was open to good counsel.

Luriel thanked him for the offer, promising to take advantage of it when she could. She would be glad to speak her mind to the subject of the city and its nature. With that said, Luriel told him she should return to the apartments provided to them to wait for Adolphus’s call. Viktor wished her well, and Luriel left.

Back in her room, still no word from the tower, she found herself looking at the case. This was the source of the illness of her close friend. Was it truly something of worth? Could anything be worth the potential death of Mathiel? Steeling herself against the pangs of guilt, she opened the case and examined the contents absently. She pulled the shiny mirror out of its indentation and held it, wondering if it had more purpose that simple reflection. Holding it, she felt her forehead tingle. Something vibrated down her arms, and she saw something overlain above the image of the disc. She could feel information flowing on its surface!

Unsure what was happening, she rode out the experience, trying to understand. She sensed light shining against the object and words flowing out. Somehow she was discerning what the disc was. It was a storage device of knowledge. She put the disc down and stared at her hands. What was happening? Was this a result of Thagiel’s touching her?

It occurred to her she could try the same trick on the vials. She picked up one of the cold metal containers and tried to feel what she could from it. At first there was nothing but the smooth metal, but then she felt the tingle. An image of small bugs swimming in fluid. The bugs were shiny and moved in patterns. She could feel the vials were loaded into the gun and injected into… into people. Still, she could not deign what happened when this was done. It was all too confusing, images of bugs and red circles.

Her reverie was broken when there was a knock at the door. She replaced the vial and shut the case. Sebastian was at the door with word that Adolphus was ready to return. She thanked him, and hid the case in her room. She would deal with the mystery of it soon enough. Now Adolphus needed her.

Luriel hurried in flight to the tower, eager to see Adolphus. Sight of him she hoped would re-center her. She realized how shaken she had become, for Viktor’s promise of being allowed to explore the city had not even excited her. Her thoughts were of Mathiel, the cryptic words of the patient, and of dangerous Thagiel.

Landing at the tower, she entered the chamber. Adolphus and Thagiel sat over a square table with black and white spheres placed across its surface. It seemed they were playing some kind of game. She greeted them, and Adolphus seemed pleased to see her. There was a sign of relief on his face, but the mood of the room seemed comfortable. Thagiel stood, nodding to her in respect. Adolphus quietly told Luriel that Thagiel had made a request to see her alone after she took him back to rooms. Adolphus was uncomfortable in complying, but thought it would show trust to agree. He warned Luriel that Thagiel was prone to mood swings (as she already knew) but seemed stable enough if one was careful in what one said.

Luriel agreed loud enough for Thagiel to hear. She told Adolphus there were a few things she wished to speak with Thagiel about, so the private meeting was ideal. Adolphus looked perplexed at this, but remained silent. Luriel told Thagiel she would return soon, and flew forth with Adolphus into the darkening evening sky.

She would return. And if at all possible, she would retrieve answers from the rebel to her growing list of questions.

[SotDX]

-42 years past-
The mountains of Ammon, June, 2610

The thick clouds darkened overheard. The Inferno was not near, but the spoor of its black forges thickened the skies. The time of war was coming, a great battle unseen in hundreds of years. Its impact would touch the lives of all.

A lone figure stood on the rocky soil in the mountains of Ammon. He was robed in a simple cloak, his feet bare and his head uncovered. His age was at once young and old, different to different observers. He had long black hair, a tended beard, and a strange trail behind him. If one looked from where he had walked, he would find a trail of shells and small bones as if they had risen from the very ground.

The figure stood alone, watching the sky. To his west was Jerusalem, to his east the city of Amman. It was here, in these mountains, that Engel and Dreamseed would clash. There was little he could do to stop it, for it was destined, and yet he ached in thought of the slaughter to come.

The figure, if he was a man, was alone. And then, without anyone approaching, he was not alone. Standing beside him was someone who had not been there moments before. At once an old man with a large staff, a thick cloak with hood up, and a very lined face was beside him. Large saucer eyes shined from under the hood of the cloak and met the gaze of the bearded man.

“So, Maetoth, you have come. Do you plan to try some intervention here?” the bearded man asked of his newly arrived company.

“No, friend, I will not. But it is hard. How many Engel will die here today? How many men will loose their lives fighting a hopeless battle to save a city already doomed?” Maetoth was brimming with emotion. His aged face twisted as his frowned grimly. “Are we to do nothing?”

The bearded man who some called the Wanderer nodded, and stepped away. He walked up the hill, and motioned for Maetoth to follow. The old man grunted at the exertion of old flesh. He knew not where the Wanderer led him, but he was eager for some answer to his question. There was little he could do to stem the horror about to be unleashed upon the mountains around him, but knowing he could not even try (even if he would fail) was maddening.

The Wanderer crested the hill and waited for Maetoth to reach him. He pointed first at Amman and then Jerusalem.

“They have their hope. For ten years they knew they had beaten the Fear-Lord only to learn it was not so. In the past five years his servants have returned stronger than we have ever seen. Three hundred Engel, if not more, will die here today. Perhaps two thousand Templars. Perhaps even more. But this has to be. Jerusalem will fall. Amman will not. That is the way of it. Nothing you can do can change that.”

Maetoth brushed the dust from his eyes and nodded. The wind was blowing stronger now throwing rock and sand in the air. Hundreds of Engel would die. Thousands of men. Madness.

“What about you? Perhaps I can do nothing to stop this. I accept that. But you… tell me you could do something. You can not stand by and watch this happen!”

The Wanderer listened to his plea, but shook his head. It was not easy.

“Maetoth, you must understand. There is a pattern to this, as there is a pattern to all. This battle will happen, and the Church will lose. Hope will be shaken. Desperation will set in. The Fear-Lord will drink deeply of this, as we both know. He will grow stronger, and a decision will be made in his council. They will try for another Himmel, not any, but the Himmel.”

Maetoth listened, and at first thought the Himmel to be that of the heart of the Orders in Roma Aeterna, that of the Michaelites. But as he opened his mouth to ask if he understood correctly, realization hit him. It was not to be the Himmel of the Leaders. It was to be…

“Yes, Maetoth, you guess correctly. It will be the Source. He will try to take it. Imagine his power combined with the machine? They were fools to hide it so far from their power-base. And now, that mistake will damn them.”

Maetoth was aghast. The enemy would be undefeatable if they had the Source, let alone it meant the end of the Engel.

“Is there nothing that can be done? Has hope failed us now and forever?”

Again, the Wanderer shook his head. He put his had on Maetoth’s shoulder and smiled gently.

“Do not feed the dread one with your own despair. The words of the old woman will come to pass. The Source will be destroyed, but from its ashes will come two who are one, the twins. One will be raised in darkness, the other in light.”

Maetoth mouthed the word “Gemini”. Could the words of the old crone come to pass? But there was only a most dangerous hope in them. Could salvation truly come to pass from an Engel shaped by the Church? So many lies they told. So many lies. The Wanderer saw Maetoth’s doubt.

“I know you have doubts. You have to have faith. I will act in the final moments before the Source is taken. I will not act directly, but through another. I will bring forth from the deep places of the world the horn. It will be its clarion call that starts the endgame.”

“Forgive my doubt, but I must ask. How can we place our hope in one Engel? There is so much kept from them. And if the crone is right in her divination, the Engel will have to kill his own flesh and blood to fulfill the prophecy. It is too much.”

The Wanderer smiled at Maetoth, and admonished him thusly.

“I am surprised at you, seeker of forbidden worlds. If any should have learned this lesson, it should have been you. We are not what we are made by others, but what we make of ourselves. There is hope in this Engel. Hope for us all.”

The sky began to fill with the white wings of many Fellowship, flying forth from Jerusalem to meet the oncoming avalanche of monstrous nightmares. Templars on the ground raced forward, blades sharpened and ready, prepared to die for their cause.

“One last thing, Maetoth. And I warn you, this is grim.”

Maetoth swallowed, his old throat dry and sore. He nodded to the Wanderer.

“Tonight is the re-birth of the plague. It will not surface here and now, but what happens here will bring what man called the Vitus Dance into the agony of all men one last time.”

The Wanderer walked away into the shadows, leaving the strange trail behind of bones and shells. Maetoth, left with a mystery, watched as the first Engel fell before the claws and razor teeth of the winged monstrosities above. The day had come. As the Wanderer had said, from this battle the endgame had started. He only hoped the world survived to see who would be the victor.

[SotDX]

Luriel landed and Adolphus seemed greatly relieved, though whether it was being away from the tower or simply no longer being in flight she did not know. The nonnus stretched and bent, his back popping as he grimaced. He muttered about being too old for all this, and sighed.

“Luriel, I know I suggested you meet his request, but I am concerned for you. Remember, he may try to install heretical thoughts in your mind. Do not forget the dogma of our faith. You are a messenger of light and must not let him… corrupt you.”

Was Adolphus saying this with conviction, or only echoing the words he felt he should say? Something in his warning seemed hollow to her. She nodded to him, trying to decide if there was some subtle meaning in his words. She asked him if the discussion with Thagiel had produced the needed results. He scratched at his head, blinking in a way that showed his exhaustion. The day has drained him.

“Well… yes and no. Thagiel seems amiable enough to my presence. I’m easing into the actual request slowly. He seems so unstable at times, as if there is a rage behind his eyes ready to fly out at me. Ah… forgive me Luriel. Perhaps you should go to him. But be on guard. Remember who you are.”

Who she was. That was what Maetoth had charged her with learning. The same Maetoth who had seemed to speak with her through a patient in the hospital. It was all madness. Luriel patted her nonnus’s shoulder, and then took flight back to the tower.

She landed gently, unsure of what to expect. This was her fourth time entering the sanctum of Thagiel, but only the second time she had been truly invited. She knew what Adolphus meant by the storm waiting to break in his eyes. She only hoped she would not be in the rebel’s way when the storm did finally break free.

Inside she did not see him. The light had faded outside, but there were lanterns and candles cast amid the various oddities in the chamber. Where was he? She heard a noise above and looked up. He was in the open air above her, floating. He had a large bound book in his hands and slowly turned the pages. How did an Engel float without flying? His wings were pulled back behind his back, and yet he was suspended in the air.

The memory of Hoffman floating in the air came unwanted. She had made no sound, but Thagiel shut his book and greeted her.

“I see you have accepted my request. Greetings again, Luriel. You are welcome here in my chamber.”

He descended slowly to the ground without using his wings. No Engel had such powers that she knew of. But, as she was learning, there was much in the world she had never read. She thanked him for letting her come, and said she had several matters she wanted to discuss with him. She wanted him to explain just what he had done to her the night before. Angry and violated as she felt, she would try to be diplomatic. She was about to speak when he interrupted her.

“I know you are angry over what happened last night. I can see that it is why you agreed to come tonight. You want understanding and explanation of why I acted thusly. The easiest way I can describe what has occurred is this; I have placed a part of my being into you. As for why, I am afraid the best answer I can give is a poor one.”

Luriel stood, waiting for the explanation. Was he guessing her motivations for coming? Surely they were predictable. And yet, something about the way he spoke to her made her feel as if he was in her thoughts. Could he see what she thought?

“I had not meant to do such a thing to you. It was not my plan or original intention. Still, it occurred. I could not stop it. It has happened and now you are not as you were.”

What did he mean? By putting some of his self in her, did that explain what had happened to her senses? Perhaps she was experiencing the powers of a Raguelite. Yes, she thought, that would explain how she could feel the impressions from the objects in the case. Still, it was unheard of. Engel could not gain the powers of Engel from other orders. It defied the divine plan and the order of the Archangels.

Thagiel placed the book he had been reading back on its shelf and sat down in a wide chair made for his large wings. His firm gaze settled on Luriel, still standing in the same place as when he had first spoken to her.

“I know you have doubts to what I say. But you are correct. You have a sliver of the potestates that infuse my being. I do not know if they will remain or fade. I do know this; you have demonstrated the sacred power over technology that all Raguelites once cherished. You have been able to glean the purpose behind the items in that metal box you found in Vant.”

Luriel reacted with shock at his words. How did he know? She answered that he was correct. She crossed her arms, trying to gain her balance for she felt naked and afraid before his unblinking gaze. His golden eyes were almost hypnotic. She took a risk and asked an open question: what else did he think he knew?

Thagiel placed his hands together into a sacred gesture, his fingers interwoven save for the index of each hand pointed straight out. He nodded, seeming to consider his words, and then spoke slowly.

“The crazed man in the hospital gave you a warning and advice. It is words of wisdom you would do well to listen to. Sorcery and science together are the only force that can save your Urielite. Ignore that and he will die terribly.”

Luriel tried to hide her reaction, but this was too much. Her mind raced. Did he have spies in the hospital? Perhaps the apartments were bugged. Yes, she had told Rythe what had happened. Still, no one knew what Maetoth had said to her other than the begine, and it was beyond reasoning to see the woman as an agent of the fiend before her. Her emotions ranged between awe, fear, and anger. Her secrets were her own.

Thagiel lowered his head, his long hair flowing forward. He raised his hand out to her, the same hand that had violated her before, and spoke with a voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you believe in the power of prophecy?”

He raised his head, lowered his arm, and she thought she saw a twitch in his face for an instant. Luriel considered his question. She could sense he was aggravated with her delay, and spoke.

“I’m not sure how best to answer you. There are those in my order who at times can predict possible futures, see potential possibilities. But as for my own belief in the power of prophecy, I can not say I am certain.”

Thagiel looked surprised. He smirked at her.

“I would have imagined your teachings would have dictated a ready answer. Have you not studied your own dogma?”

“Not all things are black and white. I can not say that prophecy is a truth or a lie.”

“I see.”

He stood, considered her for a moment, and asked her another question. She, in turn, stood rigid. She was afraid to move, afraid to expose any sign of weakness. She again flashed on the image of a great predator stalking its prey, enjoying circling it before striking.

“Tell me, Luriel, what you think prophecy is. Perhaps the problem lies in the definition.”

Luriel told him she believed prophecy was the ability to foresee great events before they occurred. One could even try to change the future if one knew what was to happen, or so it was said. Thagiel nodded.

“Yes. And no. It is also the gift to see small events, miniscule events, that in turn can result in massive changes to the world. It is as a pebble dropped in a great lake whose ripples fan out over the entire surface, the small stone that causes the massive avalanche. Even the most insignificant of turns can move mountains.”

He smiled at her, pleased with himself. She had to ask the question. She nodded, swallowing her fear, and spoke.

“Thagiel… tell me. When we first met you said I had been expected. Was my coming foretold?”

The smile vanished from his face. He stood, unmoving, and closed his eyes. The room’s air seemed to thicken. Luriel felt the small hair on her neck stiffen. He opened his eyes and moved toward her. Had she been too bold?

“Yes, Luriel. Not in the way you may think, but it was made known to me. There is an oracle who told me that one such as you would come. The Engel would come to me and seek my aid in curing her fellow. But understand, prophecy by your admission is only the possible future. The future can be changed. Each of us has the power to create waves on the surface of the water.”

Luriel took a step back, and considered his words. His entire countenance had altered. He was incredibly amorphous, his emotions flowing across him in waves of change. He had become somehow vulnerable since she asked her question.

“Thagiel, I had no choice. My curiosity brought me to you. This meeting was to happen.”

She had erred. He grew angry, his face hard lines. He kicked over the table-game he and Adolphus had played hours before and shouted.

“Your damn curiosity may result in the ending of the world!”

He rushed toward her, his arm back as if to strike her. She stood her ground, but readied herself to try and fend off his blows. He radiated power, and she knew he could end her. If it was to be death, she would die bravely. She thought of Kyriel. Thagiel stopped a moment from striking, and lowered his arm.

“Then again, perhaps your curiosity may yet save all. Yes… perhaps so.”

He turned from her, seemingly calm and docile. Luriel’s heart raced. He was mad. These fits of fury and tirades were clear signs of his insanity. She had always been taught that it was a great evil for Engel to not receive purification and re-ascend when it was their time. Engel grew corrupted the longer they stayed on this imperfect world. If proof was needed as to the dissolution of the soul, Thagiel seemed it.

She wondered as to his words, not lost in his fury. Why had he said she was the savior? She was an Engel, and fought for all mankind. But she personally was no savior of the world. She was just an Engel. Perhaps, she thought, this was what the oracle has told him. She remembered her vision of Roma Aeterna burning before her eyes. If that was prophecy, then there would be no salvation- only death and darkness.

Risking another tirade, Luriel stepped to him, his back to her, and touched his robed shoulder. He did not flinch at her touch, and he turned to her with emptiness in his eyes.

“Thagiel, I do not understand. Please, I ask you to make me understand.”

He felt his own youth in her words. “Teach me… teach me all.” She was the one. There could be no mistake. And it meant his future would be short.

He turned to her, and his eyes filled with life and light.

“Do you know why they have given me the title ‘The Thrice-Tempted’? Do you know of the three temptations of Thagiel, the triple-crowned? I will tell you now. Yes… I will show you.”

[SotDX]

Thagiel’s story was known to the people of Europe, at least in some form or another. After joining the Urbanis League and becoming a fixture within Vienna, he had told his story to the heretics. They, in turn, had passed it among them with some embellishment. With time, it filtered via traveler and spy into the domain of the Engelitic Church. As all such things do, it passed into legend.

Luriel did not know the specifics of the story other than what Adolphus had told her. Thagiel had been tempted three times. Since he had joined the heretic kings, it was obvious he had been successfully tempted to the call of the enemy. Now Thagiel stood before Luriel and began to tell his story in his own words.

He told her of his mission to Vienna to see Karl Constance, given to him by Ab Gundar himself. As Ian Longwalke had told her, word had reached the ears of the Consistory that Satrap Karl Constance was considering re-aligning himself with the Church. Thagiel had been told to treat with him on the dangers of technology. As a Keeper of the Forbidden, he would know best how to impart to the wavering Diadoche how dangerous such devices were. Science in the wrong hands could bring disaster!

Thagiel described Karl as a strong-willed man, filled with direction and purpose. He was not to be led by any counselor, no power behind his throne. As Thagiel met with him, forming a slow rapport, the balance of power changed. Thagiel had originally come to show Karl the error of his ways, but instead Thagiel came to doubt certain facts. Truths that Thagiel had never doubted started to crumble.

“The only way I can explain it to you is this: imagine something you have known to be true and never doubted suddenly seems false. The floor crumbles, and you see the empty gulf beneath you.”

Thagiel had begun to believe that technology belonged in the hands of all men. The battle against the Dreamseed was terrible, and it was foolish to hide from the harsh reality. Perhaps, he had begun to think, there was error in the policy of the Church.

Then the news came on white wings.

“Imagine learning just as you began to doubt the central tenet of your order that it has been destroyed. The Urielite who told me spared me nothing. He told me the Himmel was gone. Nearly the entire host of my order was lost. Our Ab destroyed in the fire. The Archangel… had not been seen.”

He described the loss he felt. Worse, he told of his guilt.

“I flew faster than any Urielite to Trondheim without stop. My shoulders burned and my wings ached. Still, I could not stop. I had to see what I had wrought.”

Luriel thought she understood. He blamed himself for the fall of his Himmel. He had thought his sin of doubting the truth of the Church’s pogrom on technology had caused the fall of his Order.

“I know that was madness. But I was not prepared for the annihilation of all I held dear. The smoke of Trondheim billowed where I could see it from so very far away. Still, I flew. I landed before the great Brandland where my heart had once stood. I could see nothing but ash and smoke.”

Thagiel paused, his hand gripping the side of his chair with force enough to cause it to crack.

“I was near the age of purification. It was to have been my last mission, you see, before returning to my reward. I had begun to have dreams while in Vienna of a false past. I had headaches. It was time, you see. I was to have been in Heaven. Now, due to my weakness, I stood at the gates of hell.”

Thagiel had flown into the smoke with no aid or guide. He flew through the blackness and the chaos, Dreamseed and other worse things flying in the dark. He made his way, stumbling, at last to the ruins that had been his Himmel. Nothing but rubble was left cast amid the eternal smoke.

“I would have died there. The smoke was choking me. I could not breathe. No Engel has ever entered a Brandland and returned. Then it happened. The first temptation.”

He sighed, straightening his back.

“I began to hear voices in the darkness. I heard Adolphus’s voice. I heard the Ab’s. I heard a cacophony of my fellows, all who I had fought beside bravely and loved. I heard them in my ears… in my mind. They taunted me. The castigated me. They proclaimed me as the root of their fall. They blamed the destruction on my heresy.”

Luriel listened with rapt attention. She had to wonder how much of what he experienced was due to his growing corruption, or the shock of loosing one’s Himmel.

“I would have died there. My lungs burned. My spirit failed. The words and the guilt would take my heart, for I believed them. But it was not to be my end. I found the strength there in the black pit to cast off the shadows. I was not the cause of this destruction. I ripped the pull of them from me, and flew with my last strength from the Brandland. I do not know where the strength came from, but if it had not been inside me I would have died lost in the smoke that day.”

Thagiel walked near Luriel, his eyes not meeting hers. She sensed something was coming, but was unsure what to do. Before she could react, Thagiel reached out and placed his hands on the sides of her head.

“I will show you the rest.”

The scrambled images of a river and a dark figure that she had seen after he had touched her before flashed through her mind, and then everything went black. His voice was everything in the emptiness.

“I do not know how long I slept. I was weak, hurt, wounded. I must have fought Dreamseed somewhere. My lance was lost. I awoke by a river in a small quiet place in the wilderness. Weeks passed and I merely sat and slept. My body healed slowly. My mind and spirit were restored, but even slower. Then the second temptation came. I was not yet fully recovered, and it sensed my weakness.”

Luriel opened her eyes, but they were not her eyes. She was Thagiel. He had been asleep by the river and the night and few stars were overhead. Something had awoken him. Slowly rising, she/he caught sight of a man standing on the other side of the river. It was dressed in a long black robe, but its visage was hidden behind a black cloth tied over its face. It began to speak. There was a hint of strange protuberances jutting from its mouth under the cloth.

Luriel/Thagiel was filled with disgust. This was a creature of the Tempter, some mouthpiece of the Lord of the Flies. In a whispered voice with alien sounds it wormed into her/his mind.

“You must join us, Thagiel. You will be a prince in our council. You have a will to lead, a power to rule, and a wisdom to destroy. You must know the fate of man and Engel is inevitable. Through the dominion of the Lord of the Flies hope could be found.”

Thagiel/Luriel tried to resist the words. Somehow, as they echoed into his/her temples, they began to sound of truth. It was a pointless struggle against the Fear-Lord. There was no hope. All Himmel would be blasted ruins soon. If you join him, there would be hope. The purpose of the Lord of the Flies was holy.

“The Lord wishes to wipe the world clean of its evil and infestations. We cleanse the world in fire making all new. If you help us, join us, you can have the power to direct the fires. You can change the world, Thagiel. Be with us. Be one of us. Join us.”

For a moment, the Engel teetered on the precipice. Luriel could feel herself wanting to join with the thing. Yes… it was so easy. Just join. Then, at the moment when Thagiel would have given in, he thought of Adolphus’s face. Luriel was shocked to see how young the Adolphus he remembered was.

His/her mind once again his/her own, Thagiel/Luriel leapt across the river and slayed the beast with his/her bare hands. He/she was stronger then. Washing the vileness from his/her form, the Engel burned the remains and stared at the sky. The flames from the body burned many colors before the ashes were thrown to the winds.

The last temptation came the next night.

It did not come in a foul form. It did not come as voices of the dead. It came in the form fairest to any Engel. As Luriel/Thagiel dreamed, the Fear-Lord appeared in the garb of the Pontifex Maximus Petrus Secundus. The boy-emperor, first shepherd of the Engelitic Church, stood before her/him in a simple white gown. He greeted Luriel/Thagiel, and in a silken voice made his final plea.

“You know who I am. I appear this way for a most critical reason, Engel of the Last (somehow Luriel knew that the Pontifex had not called Thagiel such when it had happened. He had instead called him ‘Last Raguelite’, though she knew not why she heard it different). I come to give you a most dear warning.”

Thagiel/Luriel tensed. They both felt that while this creature was the lord of lies, he was about to speak the truth to them.

“There is a great evil in Roma Aeterna. Perhaps a greater evil than I. You must understand, the form I wear, this being, is a greater danger to you than I have ever been. I… we… want only to cleanse the world of darkness. Of fear. Man’s day is done. The Engelitic church is the tool of a madman and is destroying what is left of this world with its lies and treachery. If you serve Petrus… him… you are only bringing forth the inevitable destruction of all you ever loved. The Church can not defeat me. I am unending.”

Luriel was horrified at the blasphemy she was hearing. Thagiel was not. He agreed with the dark one. Had the final temptation succeeded? Thagiel addressed the false Pontifex.

“I give my thanks to you for opening my eyes.”

The false Petrus’s face contorted. Luriel could see a look on his face of questioning. He seemed to think he had won, but was uncertain of the outcome.

“I will serve the Church no longer. I see now where the last hope of man lies.”

The abomination’s form began to contort into hideous shapes, a wretched smile crossing its elongated face. It no longer resembled anything of humanity. It knew it had won. It rejoiced.

“The hope of man lies with man. IT does not rest with Engel, God, or you.”

Before the apparition before them could howl, Thagiel/Luriel awoke. The Engel smiled, a look of peace and revelation on his face. He stood, extinguished his fire, and flew into the night sky. He was whole. His purpose clear.

The experience ended, and Luriel found herself on the floor of his chamber. Thagiel stood over her, his face transfixed in a look of ecstasy. She stood up, nearly stumbling, her sense of balance shaken. She had lived the moments as he had (except for the oddity of what the Fear-Lord had addressed her as). Had he really been tempted?

“I came back here. I flew the long flight to the home of Karl Constance, offered my aid, and the rest has become history. Do you see why?”

Luriel looked at him. She understood.

“You came here because you had lost your faith in the Church. You thought only men fighting as men alone could stand against the evil of the world.”

His smile was wide and vibrant.

“Yes. I decided to cast my strength behind the force of man unshackled by the lies and ignorance of the Church. I fight the Tempter from here. The Fear-Lord was right about his warning. The Church has no chance against him. I believe in its own way it serves him.”

Luriel blinked at the heresy. The words… these ideas flew against everything she believed. Did she still believe what she knew to be true before she had come here? The things she had seen through his eyes… How could he be a betrayer if he still fought the evil? Was he right? Was there truly evil at the heart of the Church?

Thagiel sat down in his chair, the telling having weakened him.

“Luriel, I want you to come with me to the oracle. We will leave tomorrow morning. She can help you cure your dying friend.”

Luriel’s instinct was to refuse, but she could not. Not after what she had seen.

“If what Maetoth told you is true, you need both sorcery and science to defeat this vileness killing the Urielite. The oracle can give you the sorcery, but for the science… I know of a tek-smith in the Undercity. He is an expert on the science of blood and its diseases. I will help you find him if you wish.”

Luriel still had not answered. What should she do? Listening to him was one form of heresy, but actually agreeing to go with him to see some soothsayer… it was complete and total madness. She would betray her faith if she did so. Her heart told her to do it.

“Luriel, it is destined that you will agree and come with me. But of course, it is your choice.”

Thagiel smiled at her, but he looked weak, spent. She nodded. Betraying everything she knew was easier assenting with but a movement instead of words. God help her.

“We will leave at dawn from my tower. Tell no one where we go. Tell them we will not return until late in the day.”

Luriel nodded once more. She approached him. He seemed so much smaller relaxed in his chair. The strength had faded from him. She felt a kinship to him then as if he was her brother. She decided to open up to him.

“Thagiel, I told Adolphus that it was God’s plan for you to be sent here and to return here after your Himmel fell. That it was his will you acted even here in Vienna.”

Thagiel laughed gently, and smiled at her. There was no mocking in his face.

“You know, Luriel, I could never truly hurt him. He is my only connection to the past that I lost. I can never raise a hand to him. He could hurt me to my core and I would merely stand and receive it.”

He met her gaze, and smiled again.

“Perhaps I found another connection to what I once was, in you. Now… you must leave me. I am exhausted, as you can tell. Rest well, for we have a flight to the coast in the morning. As I said, tell no one of what we are to do.”

Luriel agreed, and started to walk away. Thagiel called after her.

“I have two last questions for you before you leave. First, what do you know of the Gemini, the twins?”

Luriel had heard the word in the darkness beneath Vant where she had found the case. She told him, and he listened with little reaction. He merely nodded and asked a second question.

“What is your first memory?”

Luriel paused, unsure why he asked. As with all Engel, their first memory is the awakening before the Archangel after being sent from Heaven. She recalled its details, and was about to answer when he spoke for her.

“I see a cat named Tobias? Or is it Toby. Yes, Toby. You are holding it, stroking it.”

Luriel stepped back and shook her head. That was not her first memory. That was simply a weird feeling she had felt when staying in Groten with a farm family. She had no cat named Toby. The cat in question at the farmhouse had not even been named Toby! He had plucked that from her head and it was just a lie.

Thagiel sighed, and told her to go. She did not have to answer him now.

“But do me this favor. Do not forget this false memory. Hold it dear. And do not forget the Gemini.”

Luriel turned, numb with the experiences of the tower, and flew away.

[SotDX]

Luriel flew in the growing daylight, Thagiel to her left. As he had requested, they had left at the first light of morning. She had not told Adolphus where they were going. She had said little to him other than Thagiel wanted to see her again at first light. He was concerned, but accepted the situation.

She knew he would be furious if he knew what she was doing. How could she go with the great rebel Engel to see a heretic prophet? It was unthinkable, and yet it was happening. Thagiel had not told her where they were to go, but she knew they were flying south from Vienna.

Luriel did not know what to expect. All she knew from Thagiel was they were going to see an oracle who had predicted she would come. This oracle was also in possession of something that could help Mathiel, or so it was claimed. Filled with doubt, she struggled to match Thagiel’s speed and followed his lead.

He never once looked at her during the long flight. She wondered what he was thinking. What was happening in his mind?

At last Luriel caught sight of a ruined castle and a village on the coast. Thagiel turned to her, and spoke into her mind.

“This is the village of Eisenstadt. This village has existed for over a thousand years. The mountains you see were once named the Leitha. We come here not for the people or the ruins. Follow.”

Thagiel swung down past the castle into a valley at the start of the mountains which ended their course at the apex of the village. Luriel followed, though she felt uneasy. Thoughts of ambush and betrayal crept into her mind. If this was all some guise to get her far away from view and friends, it was successful. He could kill her here without anyone knowing what truly had happened.

If he had wanted her dead, he would have already killed her.

Luriel landed in the shadowed valley. No life was present in the rocky surroundings. No blade of grass penetrated in search of meager solar sustenance. Thagiel walked toward a round opening in one of the two walls. To Luriel’s eyes the hole was little more than a cave. How could anyone live in such a inhospitable place?

Thagiel paused before her, not yet at the cave.

“She is called the Arioler. She is worthy of respect. She came to live in this cave many years past. I do not know how long ago. Some in the village say there have been legends of a wise old woman here in the shadows since the Time Before.”

Thagiel turned then to meet Luriel’s eyes with his own. There was a terrible sadness in them.

“When I felt you come to Vienna, I knew my own time was coming to an end. It was made known to me that once you came, I was to take you here.”

The sadness in him was nothing to his strength. He spoke of his destruction as it was nothing. Luriel opened her mouth to speak and then decided against it.

Thagiel turned and entered the cave. He ducked under the low rocks with familiarity. Luriel followed behind. She saw Thagiel make the sign of the Church before him as he entered, as if he felt this was a holy place. Was this woman not a heretic? Did he still have faith?

The smell of the cave was musty and wet, the sound of dripping water in the distance. A fire burned somewhere inside, for the smell of pungent smoke tickled Luriel’s nostrils. At once an old woman appeared before them from the darkness. She was the most aged person Luriel had ever seen. In the dim light of the fire and the light outside the cave she could make out the endless wrinkles that occluded her features. The eyes were milky white. Long thin white hair stretched down the woman’s back. Her appearance was frightening to Luriel, but her manner was the opposite.

“Greetings, children. I’m so glad to have come at last. You would not think it, but I worry. So many things can become wrong in the most simple of movements. Perambulations abound!”

The woman grasped Thagiel’s hands, her squat form looking up at his height. She motioned for them to follow her and she vanished deeper into her rocky damp dwelling. Luriel felt a chill from the draft emanating from the depths of the cave, and wondered how even a strong man of great health could have inhabited such a place, let alone a frail old woman!

As the two Engel approached the Arioler, the prophet busied herself filling two strange receptacles with a steaming broth from a pot over the fire. Turning to the Engel, the old woman offered each a container. Luriel at first put up her hands to refuse, but Thagiel told her she should drink it. Uncertain, Luriel took one of the cups. It was strangely light and had a texture unlike anything she had felt. It was unlike any cups or drink-ware she had knew of. It was a bright red and faintly on the side were faded letters. She could only make out “O L A”.

Luriel looked up from the steaming mug to see the Arioler brandishing a toothless grin at her.

“Curious about it, I can tell! It is an item from a time before the darkness we live in now. It was once as plentiful as the clouds above our cursed heads. Awww… sometimes we miss plastic. Now drink. It will warm you, chase the foul chills from your frame. We have much to speak of and the time is short.”

Luriel did not know why they would be pressed for time, but said nothing. She lifted the strange smelling concoction to her lips and sipped. It was warm and pleasant. With a larger swallow she felt a feeling of warmth spread throughout her body. It was true; the dampness that had hounded her since entering was gone. She smiled and the old woman snorted in amusement. For a moment, Luriel thought she saw a smile on Thagiel’s face as well, but when she turned she saw him with only an ashen face.

The old woman slowly sat down, grunting with the effort. The life from her drained, and she at once looked tired and aged. The woman sighed, coughed, and began to speak.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this day. A very long time. I look forward to my reward, but before that can come I have some words you must hear. You may doubt them. Now listen here Rebehka, you may find my warnings to be insane cracklings of a broken mind. I don’t care and neither does this fire. But you will listen… and I hope to what God we have left you learn.”

Thagiel set his cup down and folded his hands in his lap. Again, only for a moment, Luriel thought she saw some reaction from him. This time it appeared as a tremble in his hands that vanished when she looked at them directly. Why did this woman call her “Rebehka”? That was not her name. And she spoke of going to a reward?

The old woman took a deep breath and closed her milky eyes. She then opened them and they were clear. Her voice rang out without a trace of the harshness that had colored it before. The voice was that of prophecy. The air became still. The wood burning did not pop. The fire did not hiss.

I. An Age Lost

Man had a dream of flight,
With wings of steel and glass-
Man had a dream of light
Born of mist and ash!

Arrogance withstood all bounds of the sane
As a shadow arose by a secret name
And a Serpent, beneath Banito, born of mind

The captors let slip a sacred charge
A frightened child fleeing in the night
Cold hearts with cold steel pursue
Darker thoughts than blood in mood
Unhinged is their creation, unbalanced they call?
Chase a beast into a corner, and what will it do?

Murder at the city on the blue Danube

The shadow in secret, channeled by fear
A spider caught in a web of flies making,
Pride darkens the fate of faceless men
The fire but a spark waiting for flame’s call!

(The stillness in the chamber began to change. A breeze blew into the chamber from outside. The dim light entering from the shadowed valley grew darker.)

II. Shadows born, Serpents Coil

Serpent-

Afraid? Can it fear?
It hides, it watches- the killing men come.
To end, to die, the death of frozen innocence-
A mad choice made, but before the dance begun!

Dark skinned anger,
A war of words and shot
Here, as the world watches,
The dance starts its rot

Death’s silence is unheard,
As the world turns.

A choking turn for man and woman,
Leaving only the young, innocent to breathe
From the unseen places it watches,
And glides with the death dance joy!

Shadow-

Silent.

Waiting.

Sleeping as gods do.

Where did it come from?
What black science can draw forth the poison
Of a billion dreaming souls?
The distilled void from the dying’s gasp?

The spark would burn if given a taste,
And a taste was given.

The screams echoed in its coils
Fuel for the blaze of worlds
But the keepers of the abyss
Who knew not what they did
Saw the fires seep past their walls
And the inferno’s kiss

Hungry,
Feeding on the first and the last,
It broke its cage of thoughts
And became the adversary of the last.

Man and shadow,
Shadow and man,
No soul escaped the fires of Daniz
As the flame erupted into the clear cloudless sky!

(Sparks jumped in the fire as the oracle continued. Luriel thought she saw shadows flicker on the walls in the forms of dark malignant shapes. She sipped from her warm drink for the air had grown colder.)

III. God’s Tears

Three times the dance erupted
Until the world was ready
Three times the aged fell
Until the crown was ascendant

The Christian brought fire
And ash to the world
An inferno of flame
Before the Beacons of gleam

A hand compelled
Quick to end itself
In the light of an ashen day

The gleam of hope,
Was the death of dreams-
The waters cleansed
All trace of old life.

The tower fell,
As the children tell,
Beneath Banito in tunnels dark

Reborn the sacred duty
Unborn, he will return!
Strong in arms,
Strong in power
Led the crusade
In its glorious hour!

The arrival has given
The hope to believe,
Angelitic Faith,
I scream to believe!

A fragrant truth
Drenched in holy blood.
Empowered by God?
Or a shadow science?

The Winged serve,
An army of innocence
Revered has become
The blessed unaged!

The books are burned,
The truth of history becomes lies
A tower is built seven times
Its shadow unites the scattered and lost
Amid the waves of God’s anger

The Seeds of Dream,
A chattering from fire
Devour the lives of man and sire

The fires that rage,
How close they have come!
The towers of Heaven
Reversed and ablaze?

Lord of Insects
Fear and dark
The King watches,
So sing the armies of lust and dust!

Two towers fall,
In smoke and disgrace!
Hope dies in dreams,
And secrets lost-
A child saved us all,
But lost us our fools’ armor.

(The wind from outside had grown stronger. Luriel felt as if eyes were watching her from distant shores as she listened. The shadows on the walls twirled and shifted in malevolence. The light from outside was all but gone.)

IV. War’s End

Two paths remain
Betwixt only shadow is seen

Fire will cleanse life into smoke
And with no fear to remain
And ending can come for conjured pain

But in hope of shadows
A light in dark dreams,
A child, Rebehka, was born to gleam!

(The fire flared as the name was spoken. Luriel sensed anger, but it was not from the old woman or from Thagiel.)

Twins born,
Girl and boy,
One strides in darkness,
The other flies in lies.

Between Thought and Trick,
Between Steel and Soul,
There is a path for the frozen blade!

Within fallen towers,
Within lost arts of dream,
Within a simple man’s fear-

More is lost than can ever be returned.
All that remains,
Small world it be,
Saved it can.

With the gift of life,
A child can end the reign
Of a millennia of secrets,
Deception,
And pain.

The old woman nearly collapsed as she ended the telling. Luriel was lost. The words were riddles and insanity. The Arioler looked up at Luriel with her milky eyes and smiled weakly. She held out her hand to Luriel.

“It is done. Now take this.”

Luriel took the strange leather bag. She blinked, and tried to decide what to say first. As she opened her mouth the smile faded from the old woman face and she stood.

“Darkness has come.”

Thagiel leapt to his feet, his eyes closed. He grimaced.

“You are right. I can feel them all around. The Dreamseed have come for us. We must stand and fight!”

The old woman shook her head.

“No. This is as I expected it to be. They will destroy the village and everything in their path. They will not stop until they have fed of my bones. You must go. She is the future of they who still live. Protect her for as long as you can, king of rebels.”

Luriel tried to argue that they could not leave the poor woman alone to face the enemy. Thagiel half dragged her to the entrance of the cave. At the sight above them, Luriel’s jaw dropped. The sky was black with the gathered demons. Hundreds of the flying Dreanseed swirled in the sky over the village and the valley. The clouds were storming and death was yet to rain from the heavens. Luriel argued again for the poor woman. Thagiel told her they must fly. It was what she wanted. It was what had to be. She turned one last time and saw the old woman. She looked exhausted, tired, weak… and relieved. Her time had come at last.

Luriel, hating herself for it, did the only thing reasonable when set upon by the number of enemy before her. She fled. The two Engel left the shadowed valley, home of the Arioler for unknown generations, and soared into the sky trying to escape the insectoid scourge destroying the village behind them.

She pushed her wings hard. In her imagination, she could see the firebugs right behind her. They would spray their burning death on both of them and their lives would end in agony. Unable to resist, she turned her head and committed the sin of looking back. The black cloud of Dreamseed were leveling the village and had descended into the valley. The woman would be flayed alive by their blades and teeth. It was too horrible to imagine. The village was to be punished for harboring the woman. The woman’s crime was the truth never to be spoken.

Worse than the mental image, an actual splinter of the storm had taken pursuit of them. At least twenty Dreamseed followed, and they were gaining. The wind betrayed the Engel, blowing against them. Luriel realized their attack was inevitable and drew her sword. They would die, but it would not be without bravery and struggle.

Thagiel grabbed Luriel’s arm and ordered her to put the weapon away. She was to fly ahead to Vienna. He would stay and stop them from pursuing. She must continue. Luriel argued, refusing to leave him to die against insurmountable odds. Yes, he may be a powerful Engel, but this twenty for him to face alone! She would not leave. There would be no argument.

Thagiel gripped her arm firmer and looked into her eyes.

“You will go back to Vienna. You will fly as the breath of God in speed unequaled. This fight is not yours… not today. You will have tomorrow.”

Luriel saw herself placing her sword back in its scabbard and nodding. She tried to stop, but she could not resist. He had ordered her in a way that compelled her to obey. Shouting inside, she turned and began the flight back to Vienna. She heard the sounds of conflict engaged behind her.

It took effort, but she managed to turn her head and see the battle. She could not stop herself from flying away with great speed, but she could at least see him in battle. Weaponless, he flew toward the mass of Dreamseed lacking any fear. His golden markings shined across his form. Lightning flashed in the black clouds above him as she flew between the winged nightmares. A white fire leapt from his hands with a deadly precision into the forms of the Dreamseed. Luriel saw him fighting the many circling him as she drew too far away to see any more.

She flew.

Thagiel was fighting to his death for her, and still she flew.

The Arioler, wise woman of ages past and present, had been destroyed to tell her meaningless riddles. And she flew.

A village decimated by a force of Dreamseed unparalleled with no Inferno within distance of sight. Still, she flew.

At last she reached the white tower. Collapsing, her wings ached and her shoulders burned. Rain fell from the sky, but Luriel did not feel it. She was numb inside. What did the old woman’s words mean? Thagiel was gone. An emptiness inside of her ached. Realization of what she had seen- the destruction of so much… it overwhelmed her. She cried. Time passed. No thoughts entered her mind. She did not sleep, but nor was she truly awake.

Then she felt him. He was weak… barely over the city walls. Luriel flew to him. He was burned, slashed, and crimson with his own blood. Deep gashes ran down his sides. How he had stayed in the air and even flew so far in such a state was beyond her. He was an Engel of greatness. She tried to convince him to fly to the Raphaelite hospital and be healed, but he shook his head. She felt a thought from him.

“I must reach my tower. I will not fall from the sky over my own city.”

Luriel helped him reach the tower. He moved from her and fell to his knees on the far edge of the platform. She moved to him, worried he would lose his balance and tumble over the edge.

“Get back. Luriel… move back.”

Not sure of what he was doing, she stepped back. She felt a tingle then all over, and the curious feeling of the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. He stretched his arms out to his sides and closed his eyes. The rain fell down over him and the red blood ran from his terrible open wounds.

Lightning shot from the sky into his body once… and then again. Luriel was nearly blinded by the brilliant flash. His form was not burned. Before her eyes his sigils burned brightly and the wounds over his form closed. At last, the last wound sealed, he fell to his side unconscious.

Luriel approached, amazed. The blood from his body washed away at last with the rainfall, and she found him unharmed and unwounded. There were no signs that he had fought untold Dreamseed and saved her from death. She looked around as in search of some understanding, and began to drag him in from the rain.

[SotDX]

Well, 43 parts. I must admit I did not think I would get this far in the write-up of the game. I feel like this is a good place to stop for a moment and catch my breath. I’ll continue soon with what happens now that Luriel has the prophecy. Things will get quite interesting in Vienna before it’s all over with.

I hope anyone reading this is enjoying it. I want to repeat my original statement at the beginning: if you have comments or questions about anything in the write-up or about the game setting please feel free to post. If there was something that happened that doesn’t make sense to you, please let me know.

I think the session that part 43 recounts was really the true turning point in the game for the player of Luriel and I. We had already decided we were in love with the setting after Groten and Hoffman, but it was with Thagiel and the prophecy that we both decided the game was something special.

If you are lost when reading the prophecy don’t worry. In the posts to come you will get to watch Luriel slowly unravel the mysteries of it. I might also restate that I do take liberties with the setting, so some of the great revelations from the prophecy will be unique to my game and not to the original published books.

Enjoy!


~SotDX

[Lyriel_Aelorothi]

Ein Meisterwerk! A masterpiece! I look forward to your next installment of Luriel's saga.

[SotDX]

Thanks!

I'm been taking a pause between being sick (nasty virus going around my office) and working on some IT certifications.

Hopefully I'll get some new posts up here soon.

~SotDX

[Lyriel_Aelorothi]

Good luck with those IT certifications and I hope you and that virus part company soon. :)

[SotDX]

Luriel laid the steaming Engel onto a low couch in the corner of his tower. He lived; breath still flowed in and out of his lungs. The water soaking his body vanished as he was still warm to the touch. His torn clothing had been burned away in the white fire.

Looking around for something to cover his unconscious form, Luriel saw nothing. Where were his other garments? She looked into the confusion of his shelves and hanging baskets, uncertain where a creature such as he would keep something so simple as a blanket. From the darkness the metal man-thing tottered over to her, its unblinking false eyes empty of concern. Luriel turned to it, and tried asking it for help.

“Where does Thagiel keep his raiment? Where can I find a cover or some blanket?”

The metal-man merely watched her, its cold stare unchanging. Frustrated, Luriel reached out to touch it. She had sensed things from the vials after Thagiel had changed her. Perhaps she could speak to this thing. Her hands on its cold exterior, she concentrated. Nothing. Only the hard metal shell of the unmoving machine was her reward for the effort.

Sighing, Luriel turned away and caught sight of a basket half-hidden behind a set of shelves. Hurrying to it, she found several blankets and robes. With care not to wake him, Luriel placed two blankets over Thagiel’s sleeping form. His body was cold to the touch now, and his markings no longer glowed. She watched him in the quiet, the rain outside fading away. His eyes moved beneath their lids. She hoped he dreamed of calmer times… anything but the sky-filling army of Dreamseed they had faced.

Luriel stroked the side of his face and felt something when her skin touched his. For a moment the image of hundreds of small gray bugs flying past in a sea of crimson filled her mind’s eye. She stepped back uncertain. It was like the vision she’d seen from the vials. Why would she sense such from Thagiel?

Leaving his side, Luriel’s curiosity emerged. This was Thagiel’s private sanctum, his place of power. In a sense, it was a mock Himmel, unreachable by any who were not borne on wing. While it was perhaps underhanded to explore while its owner lay unaware, it was a chance that might not come again. She wanted to understand him. Convincing herself with logic (it might even help in their mission) she began to explore further into the tower’s chamber.

Thagiel’s chamber was filled with oddities that she did not recognize. Strange instruments hung from the ceiling, scopes and boxes decorated with dials and knobs. There were sketches on the walls of human and Engel, and it seemed they were diagramed out into various parts of present biology. Books abounded in scattered stacks, and glancing at them they appeared to be in many languages. Rare technical volumes were present.

It was dark in the back reaches of the chamber save for a small light filtered under a curtain. Luriel noticed this, and approached the unknown recessed chamber. She pulled back the cloth barrier and found a alcove dominated by a single lit bulb and an odd metal chair with metal handholds in front of it. Luriel approached the chair, and noticed there were wires running into a contraption attached to its side with dials and a knob.

Unable to stop herself, driven by her insatiable curiosity, Luriel sat down on the chair. The dial seemed to run from 0 to 10 but had a symbol she did not recognize. She turned the dial from 0 to 1 and tensed as the sound of humming filled the air. Looking around herself, she guessed that one sat in the chair and… and perhaps touched the handles in front of them. Perhaps it exercised one?

Reaching out tentatively, Luriel touched the right handle with her bare hand. The electrical snap of the contact stunned her. The sensation was not unlike that of the assassin who had driven her senseless in Vienna’s royal district. But it was not the same. She realized this did not hurt. The tingling ran up her arm in a way that almost felt pleasant.

Luriel had no way to see it, but Thagiel’s mark on her forehead began to glow.

Unsure of herself, Luriel slowly brought her left hand up to the second handle and then closed her fingers around it. The current know flowed up both arms in gentle waves. Her heart beat slower and her mouth tasted of strange flavors. The feeling was intensely pleasant. Stranger, it felt natural.

The experiences of the past month flowed past her eyes in rapid succession. She re-lived it all in that moment. The past was the present. She was both then and now in one. Luriel ripped both hands free and stood up.

Breathing fast now in alarm, she considered what had happened. She possessed a gift her order called Icon, a power only her order possessed. As the Keepers of Lore and memory, the Ramielites had the unique gift to be able to recall anything they experienced in perfect detail. In this sense they had control over the past, at least that which they experienced.

As she sat holding the conduits of power, her own potestate had enacted itself in great detail and capacity. By all rights such a use of her power should have driven her into unconsciousness in both shock and weakness. Using it to such a degree would be amazingly draining. Yet, this true, she now stood unaffected.

Sitting back down, she looked down at the dial still set to 1. Could this machine somehow power her natural gifts? Turning the dial slowly to 2, she steeled herself and replaced her hands back on the handles. The grip was stronger. The muscles in her hands trembled as the power flowed into her. Before her eyes the markings on her arms and torso began to glow, just as Thagiel’s had. She felt a great sense of power flowing into her. There was strength. And pleasure…

No longer thinking clearly of danger or risk, Luriel reached down to the dial, one hand still firmly on a handle, and raised the dial to 3. As the dial clicked everything blurred into a bright white light.

She found herself in a large hall with a high ceiling rounded by a great staircase. The walls shined brightly, and her vision was blurred by the brilliance of a thousand suns. At once she felt she was under water and in the air flying, and then the feeling of floating upon the golden Dreamsea.

Luriel was not alone here. Around her shimmered white lights with wings. There was a perfection here in this place. It was a locality of harmony and order. Whispered songs filled the space between heartbeats as the wise shared their wisdoms. Yes. She was in the Cathedral of Thought. This was the sacred realm only the most advanced of her order could visit. She was trespassing in paradise.

And she had been noticed.

[SotDX]

The light was on her, upon her, within her.

This was a place of thought made real. Words and ideas flowed around her as the currents of an ocean of mind. She could feel Ramielite Engel pulling forth wisdom from this shared well.

Passing through the currents of query and response, she absorbed pieces of the questions and answers as they passed through her.

“Tell me more of the Morlock’s” – “People’s of lower state, ill and unable to live as productive members of society, organizing and uniting in a fight that lead to the Heretic War in 2603”

“How was Lisbon destroyed?” – “Disloyal to the holy Church, the island’s surface was completely destroyed as fire directed from God burned the surface. Only known survivor of the holy act was Jorge of Cordova, only just escaping the destruction.”

Luriel could feel the frustration in the recipient of this answer. Whoever asked this question wanted to know more about HOW the fire rained from the sky. No further answer came.

Drifting further, unable to control her progress in the thought-palace, Luriel began to see images of history flow past. She watched the Pontifex be carried down the streets of Roma Aeterna as pilgrims and worshipers cheered. She saw Dreamseed fly over cities and bring destruction.

She saw Dreamseed as they once were. They had not always been as horrific in form as they appeared now. There seemed to be less diversity in their ranks. All were winged and vaguely insectoid.

Drifting even further, Luriel shut her eyes as a light so bright it burned to look into opened before her. What was this? She felt a sense of peace and calm. All worry and fear drained from her. Was it her Archangel?

She did not learn. At once the white peace was taken from her, and she was dragged into a place where worry and concern re-entered her mind. The white lights with wings surrounded her. She could sense they were other Ramielites, as the scriptura marking them as the most advanced of her order lined their bodies of light.

They gathered around her in a circle. Whispered voices passed between them.

“Who is she?” “Is she one of us?” “Perhaps she is a trespasser”. “How can that be? None can enter within our sacred place who is not of us.”

One voice spoke now, in a strong tone that silenced the others.

“Yes, it has happened before. A trespasser once entered within our Cathedral.. Few know of it, but it is known. A thief of knowledge came to us in the night.”

Now fear and anger emanated from the thought-beings gathered around Luriel. Their concern slashed at her with ribbons of violet. She was not allowed to be here. She had acted in a way forbidden. The punishment for this transgression was unknown to her.

A new voice broke the closing circle of anger.

“I know this one. She is Engel, though she is young. She has no place here, but she is not a trespasser. She is no thief.”

Luriel could not hear the voice well enough to place it. She tried to see who the speaker was beyond the ring of accusers, but she could not tell. The others gathered closer now, inspecting her with unseen eyes. They came to know her.

“Yes… he speaks true. She is one of our Order. Still, she does not possess her scriptura! How does she come to be here? She is in an unfinished form. This is not right!”

The others echoed the cry. This was an outrage. No Engel so young and unlearned should have been able to enter the Cathedral of Thought. Luriel tried to back away from their renewed anger. She felt the light shifting, and her vision began to tint. The white light became orange, and she heard a broken voice say words that filled her with terror:

“Adolphus, great nonnus to so many of us, lies dead.”

Luriel screamed and twisted in the bounds surrounding her. And then it was over.

She lay on her back next to the machine. Her hands were sore and her arms tingled. Still, she lived. Had it been real? Could she truly have entered the Cathedral of Thought? If they had learned who she was- the thought of her punishment chilled her.

Adolphus was her primary concern. Did he live? The voice in the place of thoughts had sounded strangely familiar. God, she thought, please let Adolphus still live. Noting Thagiel still asleep, Luriel hurried out of the tower and flew forth.

[SotDX]

Luriel opened the door to Adolphus’s room and found him asleep in a chair, his journal open in his lap. Rythe woke his charge and with great relief (Adolphus was not dead!) Luriel greeted them both. Adolphus, though, quickly changed from being pleased to see the Engel and became upset and frustrated.

“Where have you been? Without explanation or warning you have vanished the better part of a day. We did not know if you were alive or dead. I want to know what purpose drove you to do such a thing and impede the reason we are here.”

Luriel nodded to her nonnus. She could not tell him the truth. She could not speak of heretical prophecies, old wise women, Dreamseed armies, or invading the Cathedral of Thought. Unsure what to say, she answered.

“I… Thagiel wanted to show me the lands of Austria. He flew me over several of its landmarks and oddities. He has taken quite a liking to this place, his second home… and wanted to show them to another… another like him.”

The words sounded strange in her throat. Rythe and Adolphus tensed at the thought.

“You are not like him. He is a traitor, a rebel! You are a faithful servant of the Church. Am I clear?”

Adolphus glared at Luriel with severity. She nodded, unsure of a better response. Inside, the old nonnus feared the potential corruption of his young charge. The loss of both Luriel and Thagiel in one lifetime was unthinkable. It made him feel weak.

“Well, is Thagiel expecting my return to his tower?”

“He is resting, as he is tired from our long flight this morning.”

Adolphus snorted, annoyed at the prospect of waiting further to continue his business.
Luriel tried to think of how best to calm him when she heard Thagiel’s voice enter her mind. He spoke to her as if behind her, and yet he was not present.

“I am awake now. Thank you for clothing me and tending to my form in my weakened state. I am ready to see the old man now.”

Rythe noticed Luriel looking over her shoulder, and wondered as to why she looked startled. Adolphus had a sinking suspicion that Thagiel had entered her mind. Luriel confirmed this, telling Adolphus that Thagiel was now ready to receive him. She regretted her words immediately.

“Luriel! You must not let him into your mind. He has the power to twist thought and corrupt you from within. Do you have any idea of the dangers you face? Bah! Take me to him. I will speak no more of this now.”

Adolphus got up, angry and upset, and walked to the window. Luriel gathered him up and took off leaving a worried Rythe behind. As upset as Adolphus was with her, her thoughts were on the voice in the orange light stating that Adolphus was dead. Was she carrying him for the last time? Was there any truth in these omens?

Her thoughts were cast aside as Thagiel’s voice re-entered her mind. Her flying was unaffected as his unspoken voice rumbled in her head.

“I might add it is unwise and impolite to interfere with the tools and machines of others.”

Luriel blushed. He knew she had used his electrical chair.

Landing at the tower, she sat down Adolphus. He still seemed to fume. She lowered her eyes, feeling a great sadness at his anger. All she had seen these past few days and yet at her core he was still a parent to her. She did not want to displease him.

Turning, his face softened. He sighed, and looked down into her face.

“Luriel… little one, forgive me. I just fear for you. The days have grown dark in our world. Thagiel was my everything once, and he fell into darkness. I am so afraid of the same happening to you. Please, no matter what happens in the days to come, promise you will remember everything I have taught you these years past. Promise you will never turn your back on the Holy Church.”

Both turned as they heard Thagiel calling Adolphus in. The rebel Engel stepped into the light before them. He wore nothing but simple drawn pants, but something about his face worried Luriel. He seemed unfocused. Perhaps he had not rested long enough? He seemed disturbed and incoherent.

Adolphus ordered Luriel to go and let him get to business with Thagiel. Despite her misgivings, she answered his request for a promise with a kiss, whispered to him her assent, and flew back to the apartments.

Landing in her own room, she found no peace. Before her was scarred Gunter, the burly General of War, and two armed soldiers. Luriel stepped back, half reaching for her blade. Was this some ambush?

Gunter held up his hands to show there was no threat, and she lowered her own blade arm. She asked why they were intruding into her chamber. Gunter grimaced, and his already unpleasant grizzled countenance was twisted into a further disconcerting appearance.

“You have been busy today, friend Engel. Where have you been, by chance?”

Luriel knew what this was about. Surely she had been seen flying away from the city with its Engelic protector. They wanted to know where she had gone with Thagiel.

Luriel told Gunter where she had been with Thagiel, adding with great emphasis that it had been at his request. This did not calm the old warrior.

“Do you understand how important the Thagiel is to Vienna? If something should happen to him… ach, lets just say you would not be pleased with what might happen to you in just such a case.”

This angered her. Not only were they threatening her as if she was going to try and hurt Thagiel, but worse- they treated Thagiel as if they owned him. He was a being to himself. He was here by his choice. If he wanted to leave, they would not have hold over him. Still, she held her tongue.

She told Gunter of the Dreamseed attack at Eisenstadt, and of the destruction she witnessed. She did not speak of the prophecy or the Arioler, or of Thagiel’s lightning. Instead of this further sharing of information leading to trust, it caused Gunter to grow angrier. He bid Luriel farewell and left with his soldiers. It was as if he blamed Luriel for the destruction of Eisenstadt.

A small voice within her answered: perhaps it was her fault. The reading of the prophecy had seemed to bring forth the nightmare.

Rythe burst into her room then, his weapon out and eyes blazing. He was furious that Gunter had intruded into her rooms and been so accusing. He started to call for guards. Luriel stopped him, laughing to herself.

“It’s alright. Rythe… calm down. Look, calling for the guards is pointless.”

Rythe looked at her uncomprehending.

“Rythe… he is the head of all the guards and armies. How exactly is calling for the guards going to help? Hmm?”

She smiled at him, and he seemed to calm down a little. He was till upset.

“They should not treat you as such. You are an Engel of the Lord. They should bow down before your greatness.”

Luriel nodded to him, thanking him. More pressing matters concerned her. Adolphus would be busy with Thagiel. What of Mathiel? She had left him ill with Cassiel and the monachs and begines of the Raphaelite Order. Had another Raphaelite Engel arrived yet?

Rythe wanted to go with her. He did not say as much, but he felt powerless in these enemy lands. His charge, Adolphus, was not safe but was out of his power to protect at the moment. Sitting waiting alone in their room was unbearable. Luriel was pleased to have his company, but worried over the delay of traveling with him on foot. Still, flying him would make him uncomfortable, and was to be reserved for times of great necessity.

The two set forth for the Raphaelite Hospital, both hoping to find Mathiel better if not entirely well. The healing powers of an advanced Raphaelite were said to be so great as to even bring the recently dead back to life. If that was truly the case, surely whatever ailed Mathiel would be nothing before their power.

[SotDX]

The two, one Engel and one human, arrived at the hospital with ease. As she had neared her destination, the vague feeling of worry and concern had begun to fade. The rational side of her mind had begun to discount the madness of wild prophecies, boats atop Dreamseas, and diseases from fanged beasts killing Engel. Adolphus would be safe soon, back in the warmth of the Himmel in Prague.

Rythe opened the door to the chamber in which Mathiel had been placed and Luriel’s peace was again shattered. A tall older Raphaelite Engel stood before Cassiel yelling words that stung her to her core.

“…and now he will have to die. This is your fault, Cassiel. He will have to be destroyed before the infection completes its course. I will not listen to any more arguments. He must be destroyed.”

Luriel stormed in behind the Engel. How dare this rude Engel bully Cassiel and declare such awful things.

“Who are you to tell Cassiel such? I am the leader of this Fellowship! Explain to me what you are saying?”

The tall Engel turned and looked down at Luriel. He was old, nearly as old as her friend Jaciel. He would soon reach the age of purification. His power would be great.

“And who are you, little Ramielite? How did you come to be leader of this or any Fellowship?”

Luriel crossed her arms and glared up at him. She tried to make herself taller, standing firm and strong.

“I am Luriel of Jeramiel. The Michaelite of our Fellowship, Touriel, fell in an attack by Dreamseed. I have taken the role of leader for the moment. Now, you, ‘friend Engel’, tell me your name and what matter you shout at poor Cassiel about!”

The tall Engel seemed taken aback for a moment at the firmness of Luriel’s voice and her strong presence. Then the moment passed, and his arrogance and disdain returned.

“My name is Gavriel, of the Raphaelite Order. And, Luriel, what I have been trying to explain to Cassiel and I make known to you is due to your negligence as a leader your friend Mathiel is as good as dead. He must be destroyed at once.”

Rythe gasped, and Luriel lost her resolve for a moment. She tried to calm herself, but twin emotions of despair and anger surfaced.

“This is madness. What do you mean he must be destroyed? Can you not heal him?”

Gavriel shook his head.

“It is not possible. Cassiel told me how this came to be. This disease he is inflicted with… is known to us. No power my Order possesses can remove that which is killing him. And it is a law that any Engel who is so injured as he is must be destroyed.”

Luriel started to say she had never heard of such a thing, but Gavriel raised his hand to silence her unspoken exclamation.

“It is only known to the senior Engel and a select few healers of my Order. Rare is the Engel who must be destroyed for this. In the lost place you found in these rebels lands you stumbled upon something ancient and forgotten. Now it has claimed the life of your friend. His head will be cut from his torso and his body burned. At once!”

With that, Gavriel pulled a large sickle from his side and started to approach the unconscious form of Mathiel. Sweat dripped from the prone Engel, his closed eyes turbulent in feverish dreams of pain. Death was within him and upon him.

Luriel threw herself in front of him, her arms cast up against the threat.

“Wait! Please, Gavriel. Our fellowship has already suffered such a great loss in these past days… please give us some time to make our peace with our brother. I ask you!”

Cassiel had tears upon his face. Rythe was thunderstruck, unsure of how to believe what he heard and seen. This Raphaelite was going to… to…

Gavriel lowered his sickle, and considered.

“Fine. But not more than an hour. He is far along in the process already. It must and will be done soon. I will return shortly.”

Gavriel walked out, and then stopped. Rythe held his breath. What now?

“One more question. Cassiel said that both you and your Templar here fought this beast. Did either of you become injured by him?”

Cassiel looked down at the ground. Rythe grew pale. Luriel looked firmly at Gavriel and answered his question. They had not been injured in the slightest. The beast had only managed to inflict a wound on poor Mathiel due to it getting the drop on him.

Gavriel nodded, looked satisfied, and reminded them he would return within an hour. He shut the door. Rythe let out a sigh of relief, for he had been terrified of the presence of what was supposed to be a comforting healer. But what of Mathiel?

Cassiel wiped his eyes, ashamed. The blame that Gavriel had laid at his feet might have been unjustified, but he felt its burn all the same. His brother was going to be killed.

Luriel nearly fainted, her courage fading. She leaned on Mathiel’s wooden bed, shaking her head in frustration. How could they want to kill him? What was she going to do? Her only hope… his only hope… was the cure…? She felt the package given to her by the Arioler still in her bag.

The leader of her Fellowship turned to the others and told them to listen.

“Mathiel has only one chance. I know of a cure that can remove this illness from him. I… I already have half the cure. The other part I can retrieve, but I need something. Something we do not have at present.”

She looked back at Mathiel as he coughed and trembled.

“I need time. Gavriel will be back soon and dissuading him from killing our Urielite brother will become impossible. I need your help. What can we do?”

Cassiel’s face was blank. Rythe, though, had an idea. He told them that he knew of a Urielite ritual Engel of that order performed when they felt death was inevitable. His cousin was a Templar of the Order and had spoken to him of it once. He knew very little of the ritual itself, but perhaps enough to be convincing. He could try to stage it and make it last at least until dawn.

Luriel hugged him. It might work! Luriel looked to Cassiel. This was dishonesty, and while they did not know it as such, it was to hide her acquiring a heretical technological half to a cure that already had pagan origins! She asked Cassiel what he thought.

For a moment he closed his eyes, and then answered her. He would do anything in his power to save Mathiel. He wanted his brother to fly in the sun again.

Luriel marveled at them. They were a Fellowship in that room. They would fight as hard as necessary to save their brother. Cassiel and Luriel left Rythe to go and speak with Gavriel, and try to convince him of their intentions. If that was successful, she still had a most difficult task ahead of her.

She would have to enter the underwold of Vienna’s techno-lords. She was to seek out a heretic blood-scientist. Mathiel’s time was short, the path ahead was alien and unknown, and the one she sought for help would as soon kill her as provide succor.

[SotDX]

With Mathiel’s imminent destruction postponed, Luriel exited the hospital in preparation for flight. What she had was a vial of the Urielite’s blood and her own hope. Now she needed guidance. Thagiel had spoken of a tek-smith in the Undercity of Vienna who was an expert on blood and diseases unique to the crimson fluid. He had said he would help her find the man if she wanted.

Now was the time when she wanted his aid- even needed it. Not wanting to interrupt the negotiations between Thagiel and Adolphus, Luriel closed her eyes and concentrated on Thagiel, trying to speak to him as he had spoken to her.

At first there was nothing, but then Luriel felt his presence enter her mind. She felt his emotion strongly. He seemed irritated by her contact.

“Luriel, I am not to be trifled with. Please refrain from disturbing me at present.”

With an apology, Luriel told him of Mathiel’s plight. She did not wish to interrupt, but she needed the name and location of the expert in blood science he had mentioned to her before. After the seriousness of Mathiel’s situation was related, Thagiel’s irritation faded and his presence grew more receptive.

“I see. It is time for sorcery to meet old science. It has at last come to that… well, I will give you his name. The man you seek is known as Puzo. He is a member of the Cult of the Machine, but he places no worship at my altar. He follows Sadija, and his whereabouts are not known to me. I can say with some certainty he still lies in the Undercity, but as to where in it… He is an eccentric, and while he hates the Church, he might be convinced to aid you if properly persuaded.”

Luriel thanked him. Something about Thagiel’s mental voice seemed off-kilter, and it reminded her of how strange he had looked when she had last left Adolphus with him. She asked if he was alright?

“You know… I didn’t like you at first. Honest. Can you imagine that?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. “And?”

“Oh, I have grown to like you. Perhaps Puzo will do the same. Well, Luriel, I need my mind free of distractions. I am going to do something most disconcerting and tell Adolphus the truth. I will regret it. I already do, and I haven’t even done it yet!”

Something was seriously wrong with his voice and his thoughts. He seemed confused, and extremely uneasy. She asked him to wait, to not do anything until they talked about it. She was getting frightened.

“I can not wait. You see, I need to know what Adolphus really knows. I have my suspicions, but then everyone does. Even old Capheriel did. But I sound confused because I am. Good luck to you. Happy hunting.”

Before she could speak again she felt his mind close to her. What was he going to tell Adolphus? Or ask him? Why was he so strange!?

Flying over the city, Luriel found the area called the Undercity. She had gathered from Ian and others of Vienna that this area was named such for two reasons: it did exist in subterranean levels literally beneath the current city, as well as being a shadow place away from the observation of the guard and order of the normal world. There were stairwells that led from several points down into the darkness below, but Luriel found an air shaft that would suit a wingborn Engel.

Soaring down into the wet darkness of old buildings and forgotten lives, Luriel held tight to Kyriel’s sacred sword. She hoped the strength of the lost Gabrielite would help her through the fright of this hidden world. Landing at last and successfully avoiding notice, she took her folded cloak and threw it over her back. It was uncomfortable to hide her wings under it, but it served well enough in the dim light. With her hood up it would be difficult to notice her face markings.

The vaulted rising heights above dripped water and let in shallow beams of fading light. The sun had not yet set, and the prospect of no light entering this realm concerned her. The buildings and structures down here looked old, perhaps dating from periods far pre-flood. Walking along a platform leading into a larger developed area, Luriel tried to not draw attention.

Despite her efforts, she was not successful. A man stepped out in front of her from behind a column. He was dressed in dirty clothes and a tattered grey jacket, and had a large club in his hands. Luriel stepped back in surprise, and heard the footsteps of two others behind her. The man in front of her had a long nose like a rat. He introduced himself as “Edward”, and told her that she was traveling in “their area” of the byway. Snickering, he told her that such a pretty girl would have to pay a toll. The brutes behind her laughed as well, toadying along.

Luriel nodded, playing the part of a scared girl. Edward stepped forward, continuing his menace but lowering his guard. He thought that his prey was suitably cowed and thus no threat. He learned how wrong he was when Luriel pulled forth the Gabrielite sword and placed it to his throat.

“Now listen here, filth, I will let you live this time. Bother me again and you will never bother any again.”

Edward’s eyes widened and the two behind her fled. Luriel pushed him away. Edward darted forth, looked back once more, and then vanished into the shadows. Luriel was certain she had put the fear of God into them, and continued on.

This place appeared to be home to both the poorest of the city dwellers as well as the scum of the society. Her sword re-sheathed, she watched the shadows more closely as she moved into the area lined with buildings and taverns. The Undercity seemed more of a maze than Vienna above, and Luriel did not know where to begin. Looking around, she considered each tavern and dark alley.

Moving slowly down the road between the buildings she came across a shop with words across a window. To her surprise the words on the window read “Books” in German and Latin! Moving faster, Luriel approached and found the place to be some kind of store where one could purchase books!

Entering the dusty confines, Luriel first marveled at the stacks and shelves heavy with titles she had never heard of. She did find some she had read in the libraries of Prague, but others were strange to her. Her excitement aside, she considered the place. There was a counter that appeared to serve some kind of drinks. Some patrons appeared to read and drink by lantern light. If Puzo was an educated man, and these were educated men, perhaps one here could help her. Looking about at the mostly shifty customers, she was not sure which to approach. She feared approaching any of their reading lights to closely as it might give away her identity.

Luriel then noticed a friendly looking man with glass lenses on a wire frame on his face. He was small, looked non-threatening, and had an honest face. Luriel approached him slowly, and he looked up at her and smiled a disarming smile.

“Hello, child. Can I help you? You have the look of one who is lost.”

Luriel nodded. She replied in her best German.

“Yes, sir. I am looking for a man named Puzo. Could you perhaps be of assistance?”

The man closed his book and took off his lenses. He smiled at Luriel.

“That accent… are you from Prague by chance?”

Luriel nodded without thinking, but then decided there was no harm. Surely some came here to live from Prague.

“I knew it. I have an ear for it, you know. Yes, I do know where you can find Puzo. Let me give you an address.”

The man gave Luriel an intersection of byways to go past and told her Puzo had a lab in an alley on the east wall. He then smiled at her again.

“By the by, my name is Callus. Do you have some time to chat? I would love to hear some of Prague.”

Luriel thanked him again, but told him she must hurry on to her destination. Leaving him waving in the bookstore, she hurried out onto the street. Following the directions she had been given, she started to head down several long roads. Drunken men stumbled past her, women walked into shadows with averted eyes, and hard faces with murderous eyes glared from places in the dark.

Something was wrong. Her instincts made her look over her shoulder, and at that moment she caught side of Edward and one of his thugs following her. She sighed. Perhaps she should have made a stronger point to him before. She wished she could throw off her cloak and reveal herself as an Engel and truly frighten him, but in this place it might serve as a death sentence. Some of the people down here might be armed with guns, and against such even an Engel could be quickly cut down.

Looking for a way to loose her pursuers, she noticed that there were no children anywhere. She was easy to follow for the oddity of her apparent age. Were there no children in this place of damp forgotten? A sound caught her attention, and she turned to find many people ducking into a large hall filled with the sounds of clashing metal!

The place appeared extremely crowded, so Luriel (with head down) ducked inside amid the mob. She was not certain what transpired at the center of the crowd, but she hoped she could loose Edward or any other pursuers within the throng. Luriel discovered the sound at the center of the crowd to be two metal machines attacking one another. They were shaped like dogs but bit at and clawed each other, metal claws and teeth scraping over solid plates. Men and women were shouting as the two things clashed, one ripping the other apart slowly. What madness was this? Many of the observers held strange paper in their hands, perhaps monetary script?

Looking around to see if she had lost her followers, Luriel caught sight of Wilhelm Constance, Viktor’s little brother, and an obvious bodyguard. Worried he might recognize her, she turned from them and ducked further into the crowd. The battle must have ended at this point, for the crowd began to disperse in every direction. Luriel, shorter than the others around, could not see to find which way she should go. Turning she ran headfirst into the chest of someone.

Luriel looked up into the face of a white bearded man of noble appearance and dress. He smiled, bowed to her, and introduced himself.

“Greetings, my young lady. Forgive my clumsy self. I am Lucius Hawthorne of the Seat of Elshreck. Were you separated from some family here in this mad dash for the exits?”

Luriel shook her head, and tried to tell him over the noise of the crowd that she was trying to get somewhere but had been followed. She told him why she had ducked into the room to begin with, and of those following her. Lucius seemed concerned, and reached to take her hand as to comfort her. When his fingers closed around hers, something happened.

The crowd and its noise dropped away. All Luriel could see was Hawthorne’s face. His eyes turned reptilian and slitted, and a long forked tongue slipped out from between his teeth. He was foul… foul to his core.

Luriel jumped back as if he had burned her hand. Lucius in turn looked down at his hand as if she had burned him. He muttered: “But you are one of the…”

Hurrying from him, she made it out the exit and down the street. This place was dangerous enough without servants of the Fear-Lord about. Slowing down, she found the alley that her directions had led her to. At last, she had found Puzo. The vial still secure in her satchel, Luriel stepped into the alley. She could vaguely make out a door in the darkness at the end, and hurried toward it.

The footsteps behind her sounded familiar. Turning, she saw framed by the light from the street both Edward and a large brute. Both held guns pointed at her.

“Well little girl… I’m afraid I may just be bothering you one more time.”

Luriel tensed, hoping in the darkness they would have trouble hitting her. She started to reach for her sword when long metal needles penetrated the foreheads of both Edward and his companion. Both men’s eyes widened as they fell back dead. Luriel started to turn but was grabbed and felt a sharp stab in her neck.

Everything became dark.

[Lyriel_Aelorothi]

Jeff,

Let me say again how brillant these narratives are. I hope to see more storyteller specific information at some point, but the narrative themselves paint a very vivid picture. I plan to create a .pdf file with these in a effort to recruit players for my own Engel chronicle. Hopefully very soon, you shall no longer be the last American Engel storyteller. :)

Tony S. Hamby (Lyriel)

[SotDX]

She was cold.

Water was dripping on her head and running down her body. Cold pain emanated from her shoulders and wings. The side of her neck was very numb from… what had happened? She tried to open her eyes but she had difficulty in getting her body to obey.

Slowly it came back to her. She had been in the alley and seen her two assailants shot dead with some kind of needles. Before she could react she had been attacked and something had been injected into her neck. It must have made her fall unconsciousness, and even now it fogged her mind and made her body numb. Even then, there was pain.

Opening her eyes at last, she became aware of her situation. Chains hung from the ceiling and water dripped from above. Below her was a metal grated floor covered in rust and filth. Her arms were chained together and she hung from above. Worse, hooks had been stabbed through the tops of each wing and were attached to the suspended chains.

She hung here, defenseless, naked. Her garment and cloak was gone. She raised her head, trying to look for other signs of danger. Panic flooded her system. She felt very small and afraid. Then she saw him.

He wore a white apron buttoned up the front. He still had the strange wire lenses on his face. Callus turned to Luriel, and smiled his too friendly smile.

“Aw… you are awake at last. Good. I did not want to start until you were conscious.”

Start? Start what? She tried to speak but her tongue felt swollen in her mouth. There was movement and she heard a large man walk from behind her into the foreground of the room. He was broad shouldered and held a large strange-looking gun. Next to him on a table Luriel recognized her clothes, her weapons, the sack from the oracle, and the vial of Mathiel’s blood.

She also noticed a pair of strange goggles that looked familiar. She did not at first recognize them, but then realized where she had seen them before. They were the same goggles used by the assassin who had tried to kill Adolphus and she had dropped into the river. This was the man who had tried to kill her nonnus!

Callus walked closer to Luriel and reached out to stroke her face.

“Yes… so good you are awake. Once I am done there won’t be much left to question, so let’s get started, hmm?”

Callus stroked Luriel’s face, and she tried to recoil from him. She was not able to move more than a slight amount, and his cold hand brushed her cheek. His eyes moved down over her naked form, moving with a slowness and hunger that she did not understand. It made her feel uncomfortable, and ashamed in a way she had never felt before.

“Forgive me. It is rare to find such a perfect specimen. Now, before we begin, I want you to answer some simple questions. If you do not, my friend Kasper here will have to inflict great pain on you.”

The large brute behind Callus grunted. His eyes were cold and unfeeling. Luriel was powerless. Again panic seized her, threatening to bring tears to her eyes. Reaching deep within herself she calmed, and steeled herself for whatever was to come. She would not show these monsters any sign of weakness.

Callus lifted the vial of Mathiel’s blood and held it before his eyes shaking it.

“What is this, mein Engel?”

He turned and held it out in her direction.

“Saint’s blood. I carry it for guidance and strength.”

Callus smiled and shook his head.

“Dear girl, blood coagulates. Not all of us are ignorant peasants rotting in piss farms. Now, tell me whose blood this is and why you carry it? Why are you searching for Puzo?”

Luriel swallowed, trying to pull at her bonds. Even if she freed her arms her wings were hooked through. Pulling free would rip them to shreds. She was trapped. God help me, she prayed.

“It… it has not coag-, coagut-… thickened because it is the blood of an Engelitic saint as chosen by Petrus Secudus. The blood will stay unthickened forever.”

Callus did not like her answer. He tossed the vial and stepped to Luriel. She watched the vial fall onto the grated floor and nearly vanish into the darkness beneath the floor’s openings. Then she felt the pain of Callus slapping her across the face. He squeezed her face and his eyes grew cold.

“You know… I truly do hate your kind. I ordered the priest’s death because he was a threat to our present power base. But you… you are nothing but a child with wings. I do not believe your lies. And, dear girl… I will prove my belief here tonight.”

Callus stepped over to a side table and rolled it into Luriel’s vision. It was covered in sharp blades and saws. He picked up a saw with a long wire running from it and flicked a switch. The blade began spinning. To her horror he brought it closer to her.

“I will slice you open. The secrets of the Church are nothing before my unyielding stare. Your wings will adorn my walls and your inner world will be exposed to my wisdom.”

He brought the blade between Luriel’s small breasts.

“I do this in the name of science.”

She felt the blade begin to touch her skin and start to cut. Biting back the scream raging to break free she prayed for Mathiel and her fellowship. None would know the fate she had suffered here in the dark wet far beneath the streets of Vienna. Forgive me Adolphus!

Then hot wet covered her face as Callus’s head exploded. Blinking through the blood and brains, Luriel heard the second pop as Callus’s guard Kasper was also killed with a headshot. The saw still spun, but now it was on the ground in a dead man’s hand. Looking up, Luriel saw Ian Longwalke holding a smoking gun.

He smiled at her, lowered his gun, and nodded.

“Well, you know, timing is everything.”

[SotDX]

Jerome sat behind his massive desk in abject horror.

The screens before him confirmed what he had done. Closing his eyes, his put his face in his hands and prayed. If something happened to Adolphus because of his actions, he would never forgive himself.

He was the Keeper. It was his role in these current days to try and claw out what survival was possible for the remnants of the Raguelite Order. This place, the Arx, was all that remained of their once great power. The last Ab of their order, Gundar, had died with his Himmel. Here in a fortress of technology and secret lore the Keeper of the Arx commanded what failing influence he had left.

Typing at his desk, he called forth an image of Adolphus of Prague. The image was old, dating from a time when the nonnus had still been of Jerome’s order. Adolphus was a much younger man in the depiction.

“I’m sorry. There are so few of us left. The last thing I wanted was… to lose another.”

Jerome was alone in his office with his sliding doors sealed. Still, alone as he was, a voice emanated from his walls. The voice was strangely neutral in gender, not unlike that of a young child.

“Keeper, you must not blame yourself for this. You did not tell the Pontifex to send Adolphus of Prague to Vienna. It is wrong to blame yourself for this.”

Jerome frowned. The invisible speaker did not seem to concern him or startle him. He replied to the voice by speaking to the open air.

“Guardian, I appreciate that I was not the one who suggested they send Adolphus, but it does not matter. It is my fault that he was asked. Whether I expected this or not, I should have foreseen it as a possibility. Hell… in retrospect I think I should have seen it as a certainty.”

Jerome stood up from his desk and grimaced as his back spasmed. He had been doing what he thought was best. He had been trying to protect the Arx… to protect what embers were left of the Raguelite Order! Guardian did not interrupt and let him think. She was concerned over the stress this development had brought to him.

“One thing is certain, Guardian. If I had not acted the attack would have already come. I bought us time. And God help me… I’ve just realized!”

The Keeper of the Arx sighed and resigned himself to a very unpleasant realization. Guardian, in turn, waited patiently for Jerome to continue.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been sitting here worrying over what might happen to Adolphus when he gets to Vienna, but I should be more worried over something else. If he somehow gets a message back to Roma from Thagiel our fates will be sealed. As much as I want to pray that the old man gets there and back safely, we will be damned if he does. God help us all.”

Jerome decided he must go and see the council. They had to be informed of the ramifications of this development. In their attempt to forestall the Pontifex’s threat they may very well have sealed their collective dooms.

Jerome walked out the doors and they automatically shut behind him with a soft thump leaving his office empty. In the silence, after a pause, Guardian spoke one last time to an empty room.

“Perhaps it was not wise to lie to the Pontifex Maximus.”

[SotDX]

“Drink this and try to get warm. You are safe here and will stay that way.”

Luriel listened to Ian Longwalke and took a drink of the hot cider, letting it warm her hands. Her cloak covered her injured wings and she still felt uneasy. She sat with him in the dark corner of a smoky tavern somewhere in the Undercity.

After killing Callus and his thug at the last possible moment, he had carefully helped her down from the chains. Her wings had only had small holes torn in them at the tips and would heal. She had a thin long cut on her chest where the saw had begun to cut her skin. She shivered at the thought of the blade slicing into her flesh.

Her weapons, items (both vial and artifact) and such had been recovered. She also took a more unusual token. She had taken the large strange weapon Kasper had been holding. This place seemed so enamored with its heretic guns she felt balancing the equation was in order, sin be damned.

Ian had led her back through the sewer tunnels he had used to follow Callus. Luriel had been very shook up both by her treatment and the last minute rescue, but managed to ask him on to the way through the tunnels how he had found her. He told her he had been working the bot-fights watching over the Satrap’s brother from a distance, and had seen her being followed by Edward. Edward was known to him as an unpleasant sort of fellow, and so he followed to see if she might need some aid.

He had been much concerned when he had found Edward and his mate dead in the alley killed by a high-tech needler. He’d almost lost track of Luriel and her abductors when he faintly heard Callus’s cackle. He apologized to her that he had not shown up sooner and that she had had to experience something so awful. He had fired as soon as he found them.

Luriel nodded, realized she was almost crying again, and wiped the beginning of tears away. She thanked him to which he shook his head and said they should move. He wasn’t sure, but it was possible that Callus had other cronies or even allies in the vicinity. It was best to move now and talk later.

And now was the time for talking. After procuring Luriel a hot cup of cider and a bottle of drink for himself, the two had settled deep in the dark confines of a nothing watering hole. He wanted to know just why she had come down here in complete disregard for Viktor’s express request.

Taking another sip of her drink, Luriel thought what to tell him. Could she trust him? It seemed clear that he was as trustworthy as she would find in this strange land.

“I am here to find a man called Puzo. I need his help… desperately. If I do not find him one of my Fellowship will die.”

Ian looked at her startled. He mulled this over, and asked her to tell him more.

Luriel told Ian about Mathiel and the night-creature, which of course he had half-experienced himself. She told him how Thagiel had recommended Puzo, and of how she had ended up in Callus’s tender hospitality.

Ian nodded. He was not surprised. There were many predators in the depths below Vienna. In the court of Constance he had many roles, but one was an expert on the workings of the Undercity.

“Luriel, I understand your dilemma. But I must say I am somewhat suspicious of Thagiel giving you this name. Have you considered the possibility he is playing with you? That this is all some game to him, to send you down here asking dangerous questions? I have no idea what he would gain by having you do such… other than him not being the same being he was years ago. He has grown more and more distant. Alien, even.”

Luriel disagreed. She trusted Thagiel. He had proven himself to her, shown her things, and now was giving her aid in saving Mathiel. She would not doubt him.

Ian leaned back, considering helping her find Puzo.

“I’ve got to say this is not a safe place for you. First, you are not used to this kind of environment. Second, you are what you are. You think they look at you strangely topside? Down here they’d rip you apart, as you have already seen.”

Luriel crossed her arms instinctively at this suggestion.

“I’m sorry. That came out differently that I meant it. My point is this is not a safe place for you for a host of reasons. I think you should seriously-”

Ian’s sentence was interrupted as a panting man ran into the tavern slamming the doors as he came. All eyes turned to him and the barman shouted at the rude entry. The newcomer shouted back.

“The Lord of the Flies has struck! The village of Eisenstadt has been destroyed, leveled to the ground. All are dead! The Dreamseed have come!”

Ian leapt to his feet and hurried to the shouter wanting more information. It seemed he did not yet know what others in the court knew. The news of the death she had brought to an innocent fishing village was traveling. Feeling depressed, she leaned on the table.

She looked down at her mug of cider and her hands were not her own.

Instead of seeing the table she saw Adolphus. He was standing at the edge of the tower’s platform. Hands (Thagiel’s long fingered) reached out to him. But were the hands reaching or preparing to push? Adolphus looked mad before her, his eyes wild and his mouth open. He was shouting something! She could hear no sound.

Thagiel (her hands?) reached out to him. Did they push him? They opened (mental push) desperate attempt to grab – last shove? And it happened. It occurred. Adolphus starts to tumble over the side.

Surely Thagiel will fly after him! The rebel Engel (Luriel looking through his eyes) is at the edge ready to fly when she/he hears one word. No sound until this, and it comes as a strike of thunder and a crash of worlds.

“Leif.”

Luriel (looking through Thagiel’s eyes) leapt back as if wounded. Turning away from the balcony, letting the man fall, Thagiel kneels and shuts his/her eyes. It is over. It is done. Death.

Luriel opens her own eyes and screams! She can feel Adolphus when he hits the ground below the tower. Screaming, she uncontrollably kicks over the table and the chairs, unable to stop. Ian runs to her and shakes her, trying to calm her before she reveals her wings. He can not understand what is wrong. Looking into her eyes he tries to calm her.

She can see Ian, but he is very far away. She is down in the bottom of a dark place, there at the bottom of the tower where Adolphus just landed in a crumpled heap. He is dead. Thagiel killed him. He pushed him! He lied to her! He planned this to have her far out of the way! She let herself be led! SHE CAUSED THIS! SHE COULD HAVE STOPPED IT!!!

Ian had no choice but to slap her. She falls to the ground, and sobs. She speaks.

“Adolphus is dead. Thagiel just killed him.”

Ian feels his stomach lurch and his heart stop. If what Luriel is saying is true, then it is war. Kneeling down, he asks her what she means. How could she possibly know such a thing?

Looking up at him with bloodshot eyes she tells him she saw it. Could she be wrong? Holding up her hands to silence the rapid questions coming from Ian, she tries to speak to Thagiel. Could it have been false?

In her mind she seeks him. She can feel his presence.

“Thagiel, speak with me.”

Silence. She can sense his presence, but he will not respond. His mind is not closed to her, but nor is it open.

“Thagiel, is Adolphus… alright?”

Again silence. Then…

“In a sense.”

The voice was small, almost broken. Fear that her vision had been true began to multiply.

“Thagiel, I saw something just now. I saw your hands reaching out to Adolphus as he was on the ledge. I saw… I think I saw you push him. He shouted a word at you and you let him fall. Is that what happened?”

“You could see that? I am surprised.”

Luriel blinked in frustration. His voice was cold. Empty. Nothing.

“Answer me! Is he dead?”

“We both are.”

Luriel could feel the presence in her head fade. He had blocked himself again. Or worse. Shaking, Luriel looked up at Ian.

“Is your ambassador dead?”

Luriel nodded. The upset had faded. Now the taste of ashes filled her mouth. She had failed. Her promise was broken. She had not kept him alive. All had been for nothing. All had been lost... except… Mathiel! She would save him no matter what it took. She may have lost everything else, but she would not lose him.

“Ian, I do not know what tomorrow will bring. The sun will rise in a few hours on a Europe where war may be with us again. I need your help now. I must find Puzo. Please help me. I implore you.”

The passion in her eyes destroyed any resistance Ian had left. He helped Luriel up, and answered her.

“We will find Puzo. I will not fail you.”

[SotDX]

Time is said to heal wounds. Most often, when that is said, it refers to slow months and painful years. Instead of such a generous passage of time, Luriel was suffering in the first hours after her nonnus fell. The pain made everything appear strange to her. She followed Ian for hours as he talked to one figure in shadows after another. He seemed to work his way through some underground network of “those in the know”, slowly narrowing his search until he found what he sought.

Luriel stayed in the background, watching and following. She spoke very little. In the quiet moments waiting as Ian worked his magic, she found herself drawn to thinking of Thagiel’s tower. The image of his hands (pushing?) in front of Adolphus would give her no peace. She was tormented.

At last Ian approached her with a different expression than he had worn for hours. He looked exhausted, but relieved.

“I’ve found our man. He has a lab on the other side of the canal. There is a bridge we have to cross but as it happens we have ended up quite close to him.”

Ian walked with her, waiting for her to reply, but she said nothing. She nodded and followed. He looked at her with worry.

“Listen, Luriel… I shouldn’t go with you to meet him. As much as I do not want to leave you alone right now, Puzo and I have… history. And I do not mean in a good way.”

Luriel stopped and looked at him. He wondered if she was even hearing him.

“Thank you for finding him. I can handle this on my own from here. You have helped me and saved Mathiel.”

Ian smiled, relieved to have her talking. He was, though, still worried for her safety.

“Look, it’s not safe out here. I’ll walk with you as close as I dare. There have been killings here and above recently that look like they are the work of some man-machine thing. Part of the reason I’m down here is trying to dig up some intelligence on just what might be doing the killing.”

Luriel nodded, remembering hearing about the killings on her first night in Vienna. She had felt smug then in the thought that Vienna had its own darkness. Now she felt empty. If Puzo would not help her, she would be lost. He must help her.

The two walked under a flickering light and Ian noticed how clear the markings were on Luriel’s face. Puzo’s lab would likely have bright lighting unlike anywhere else in the Undercity they had been. That could be a problem for her.

“Lur, you may have a problem. Puzo will know what you are as soon as he see’s your face. He may not have Callus’s love for your kind, but he’ll hate Engel as much as most teks. Maybe we should rethink this. He and I don’t get along, but maybe-”

Luriel stopped Ian and put her hands over her face. If she could exert the same control over her script as Thagiel had demonstrated, then she perhaps she could hide the markings on her face. It would not be easy, but it might be possible. Concentrating on the signum on her face, she imagined them moving as fluid forms, visualized them sliding down her neck onto her chest. At first she did not feel anything, but slowly her face began to itch. She could almost feel the etched lines of her Engelic nature shift.

Pulling her hands away from her face she gave Ian a look at her handiwork. He stepped back, eyes widening in shock.

“Good God! How is that possible?”

He had never seen the like. The idea that an Engel could hide their true self in such a way was unknown to him. It also represented a severe security threat, an idea he would consider later.

“It’s something he… I mean Thagiel showed me. He can do it. I do not know if any other Engel can.”

The thought of him returned the pain afresh. Adolphus. Lost. How could he have done it? Did he really push him? The questions ran her mind endlessly.

“Well, with your wings hidden under that cloak and your facial markings hidden, you bear a strong chance of avoiding detection. Still, this is dangerous. I know you took that experimental gun of Callus’s dead guard, but take this as well. Take it for me.”

Ian removed his gun, smaller than the large cannon-like weapon she had taken from Callus’s dungeon, and handed it to Luriel. She did not refuse it. Ian led her the last bit of the way, and then with a warm embrace left her to face Puzo alone. He did not like leaving her, and looked over his shoulder as she headed on alone. Smiling to himself, he decided she was a most uncommon Engel.

The supposed door to Puzo’s hidden lab was unmarked, and was lit by a single dim bulb flickering over its frame. A large box lay to the right off the door on the wall with a single button. Glancing at it, Luriel decided it might be the way to let those inside know she wished entry. Saying one last prayer asking for the salvation of Mathiel, she pushed the button and waited.

A harsh voice with a thick German accent blared forth from the box, asking her who she was and what she wanted. Leaning toward the box, she replied.

“I am Lorry, good sir. I come in need of help. My brother is dying of a strange illness of the blood, and I come seeking the aid of the great tek-lord Puzo.”

She hoped she could use flattery and praise to aid her entry. The question remained as to what to say if Puzo asked her who had sent her. The true answer, Thagiel, had warned her that Puzo had no love for him. Ian obviously did not have a good relationship with this figure either. Who to say? Perhaps it would not come up.

The speaker crackled, and the voice returned. It asked who had told the poor child that there was anyone named “Puzo” here. It directed her to go away and bother someone else.

Luriel hoped Ian’s information had been right. If that was not Puzo…

“Good sir, please help me. My brother has already been seen by others and no one can help him. I have a sample of his blood with me. It was… the Chief Tek of Lord Constance who suggested my only hope was the greatest tek-keep of blood science in all of Vienna. If you do not help me with your greatness, my brother will die!”

She tried to affect as much sadness and despair as she could, which was not entirely false. Time was running short. Gavriel would be inflexible when the sun rose. If she did not have some cure for Mathiel by sunrise, her brother Engel would be dead.

A moment passed with no sound, and Luriel began to grow more worried. Then, without further word, the speaker buzzed static and the door opened as the lock was released. Relief passed through Luriel, but only for a moment.

Inside, there was a long metal hall. A large steel door ahead was still sealed and probably locked. Lights flickered overhead. The air was stale and unpleasant. The structure felt like some kind of shelter or bunker. The door behind shut and locked on its own. Turning with alarm, Luriel found no presence. Then the air was filled with the same static-laden voice.

“Put all weapons on the platform to your right. If you try and cheat me your friends will never see you again and your brother, if he exists, will die of his supposed disease.”

To her right the wall opened and a shelf rolled out with room for her weapons. Uncomfortable with the prospect of parting with them, she nevertheless did comply. She would have to play along. She divested herself of both her short sword and Kyriel’s blade, both sheathed (hopefully not about to attract attention). She also laid down the two guns, both Ian’s and Callus’s. The shelf retracted on its own as she laid the last down, and she saw them start to be pulled along a moving surface as the wall closed. Strange contraption, she thought as she waited for the voice.

A minute passed and Luriel stood. Had he noticed the blades? She was trapped. The door behind had no mechanism to open it, nor did the door ahead. Somehow it was controlled remotely. She noticed nozzles in the ceiling. It was entirely possible gas could fill this room at the command of the controller. Calming herself, she tried to wait patiently.

At last the door ahead popped open and the voice told her to come through, but slowly. The hatch opened into a room that was pitch black. No light burned anywhere, and Luriel heard the door behind again shut on its own. She was left in complete darkness in what she could sense was a large open area. She extended her hands out to try and feel for any obstacles. What was Puzo (if it was really him) doing?

Then she heard the thick-accented voice of an old man, but finally without speaker or reproduction. He was in the room somewhere.

“I find one of your weapons most unusual, girl. Perhaps you should tell me why you really come here to my home, yes?”

Luriel cursed her luck. He had found the sword and wanted to know how a seemingly human girl would have a Gabrielite sword, a holy relic no Engel would allow to fall into heretic hands. Damn! She started to try and explain with some lie, but her instincts told her not to play that hand yet. She should wait and find exactly what sort of explanation would be best.

“Sir, I know not what you mean. I am simple child of Vienna and am trying to save my brother Mathew. Please, help me.”

She heard movement to her far right that sounded distant, and then his voice.

“How do you explain your shot-rifle of such unusual design then? I happen to know the man whose design this matches. A rather poxy bastard named Callus, if I know my damn weaponcraft. How do you explain that, you sniveling runt?”

Again, guarded relief flowed over Luriel. This was bad, but nowhere near as bad as trying to explain the flaming sword. As she had held to so far, perhaps an answer as close to the truth as possible would be best. She told her interrogator that she had come to the Undercity alone looking for Puzo and had run into Callus. He had tricked her into his labs by lying about the location of Puzo’s lab, and he had been planning to do “bad things” to her. She then told him that Callus was dead.

A snort of surprise was his response, and then he asked if she was responsible for this change of existence for Callus? Luriel replied that it was so (leaving Ian entirely out of the explanation). Again, there was a snort.

“Well, good riddance to foul excuse for humanity. He was a poor scientist, and an even worse example of a man. You have done Vienna, nay- the world, a good service.”

With that the lights in the chamber came on, blinding Luriel as she blinked against the sudden brilliance. The lights were of a very bright and raw nature, giving the room a cold sterile appearance. The chamber was spare of any element of color or decoration. Metal tables covered with strange equipment surrounded her, and stairs led back into a raised area walled in with clear glass windows. Far to her right next to a wall with a shelf holding her weapons was the man she had sought.

Puzo rolled over to her in the light. He was an aged man, wrinkles and lines covering his balding head. He sat in a large chair that seemed to move itself, as his legs were covered in a blanket. Luriel had read of such contraption from the time before, and remembered them to be called “wheelchairs”. Strangest of all, he had no eyes. Or, more to the fact, he had a metal set of eyes on top of his face where his eyes should have been. It was as if Callus’s goggles had been merged into his head! Perhaps he had been able to see her even in the darkness?

The metal “eyes” on his face whizzed and adjusted themselves as he rolled closer, his face unreadable. His gnarled hands were tapping the sides of his chair, and he looked Luriel up and down before speaking.

“Well? Tell me more about your brother’s blood disease. I’m old and tired, and I wouldn’t want to die before you catch your breath and start telling me something useful.”

[SotDX]

NOTE: THERE ARE SEVERAL KEY SPOILERS IN THIS PART. BE THUS WARNED.

“Well, sir, I even took him to the priests of the Raphaelite Hospital. They say the Engel there can cure any illness known.”

Puzo spit in disgust, displaying his naked hatred of all things Engel and Engelic.

Luriel told him that despite having the Engel see her brother, he was not cured. The Engel told her they had no power to cure this disease. It was beyond them. This caught Puzo’s attention. His metal eyes buzzed and shifted, the lenses extending.

“I see… that is most interesting. A disease the damn winged freaks could not cure. Most interesting. Perhaps I could find some use in examining the blood you brought. You did say you brought a sample?”

Luriel nodded. It seemed the tek-keeps of Vienna were as susceptible to praise as any Ramielite scholar.

“Well, bring your sample and follow me. We shall see what mysteries lurk in your friend’s vitae.”

Luriel started to follow him as his wheelchair rolled towards the room with glass walls. She was stopped, though, as a hulking figure stepped in front of her blocking her way. The man seemed to be composed of parts of metal as well as flesh, with wires running along parts of his body and metal plates over parts of his anatomy. He was hideous, and his milky eye glared at her. Worse was what came out of his crooked mouth.

“Girl… pretty wings!”

Luriel stepped back in horror. Her identity was known! The metal-man abomination had somehow sensed her as an Engel. She would have to run, perhaps grab one of her weapons…

Puzo rolled around the hulking figure and sighed, cursing.

“Ah, forgive Domiel. He is… <snorting> a work in progress, you see. Domiel, back away from the nice girl.”

The man-thing stood there, drool slowly dripping from its half open mouth. It seemed Puzo had not heard the mention of wings, or had merely ignored it? More offensive, it seemed he had given this thing a holy Engelitic name. Domiel?? Such was a grave crime. No human, let alone a normal one, was allowed to take a name reserved for Engel! The crimes of these heretics ran great in number.

Puzo had to order Domiel away two more times before he finally lumbered away from Luriel and stopped blocking her path. Still, he watched her with his bulbous single eye as she quickly passed him and walked up the steps as Puzo rolled up a ramp.

“You will have to forgive him. Bit of a wrongheaded design, if you know what I mean. Almost there, but some fundamentals are off. Domiel keeps sneaking out when I’m not looking and getting up to mischief. I think he’s killed three or four so far.”

Luriel paused, not sure what he meant.

“Killed three or four what?”

Puzo, with an almost sheepish shrug, answered: “People, of course.”

With a sudden realization, Luriel knew this creature was the man-machine she had heard of her first night in Vienna and that Ian had warned her about before she had entered here. Puzo had built this thing, and now as is malfunctioned and killed people he seemed to only joke about it. It was madness! He seemed still proud of his invention, though there was a note of disappointment. Again, madness!

Rolling up to his workspace where he had paper and ink, he turned to ask Luriel her age. She quickly told him 13, for she looked roughly that age. He nodded, and scribbled a note she made out as: “Consider younger people for transformation in hybrid man-machine state. Perhaps better transitioning.”

After the murderous man-thing and this lunatic’s attitude about its actions, he considering using a child to try and make another monster was just about enough to have her running out of the place. She had to try and take some control of the situation.

“So, Puzo sir, do you want the sample?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. In a moment.”

He pushed his scribbled notes to the side and rolled around his work area, apparently preparing. Luriel took in the surroundings, pleased the giant man was not in sight. Though, she thought, he might be out killing someone. Shaking off the thought, she glanced at the machines and items in Puzo’s chambers. There was a device in the corner she was certain was some kind of computer. Words and things flashed over the screens in a rapid scroll, but she was unable to decipher the numbers and symbols.

“Sir, will you use this… computer machine… to examine the blood?”

He turned his chair to look at her, and his two metal eyes extended and pulled back independently of each other. The extended one looked not unlike a telescope.

“No. Nothing so advanced, girl. Though I am pleased you have the basic knowledge to recognize the computer when you see it. Now, give me the sample of your brother’s blood. Let’s hope it has not been too long since you drew it from his veins. Otherwise this may prove a fruitless trip.”

Luriel handed over the sample with some nagging worries. Still, this was her only option to save him. She had to do it. Puzo held the sealed glass vial up to his metal eyes and they responded in turn. He nodded, bit his cracked lips, and rolled to a device Luriel believed to be some kind of microscope.

It took some time for Puzo to prepare slides and sample to examine, and slowly work with each, examining and comparing the evidence before him. Despite his apparent madness and disturbed nature, he truly is one of the most gifted men in the science of blood in what remains of Europe. He proves so, for not long after starting his analysis he turned to Luriel and told her of his findings.

“Lorry, I have found several strange things in this blood. I do think I have found the presence of a virus, but more than that. Have you ever heard of nanotechnology?”

Luriel shook her head. The closest thing that came to ever hearing such a word was the case she had found in Vant, with the words “small” technology written upon its surface. She believed nano meant small. Was there a connection?

“Well, Lorry, let me explain. Before the flood, science was developing faster and faster. One way it was growing was, if you will excuse the expression, in shrinking. The great science of the pre-flood days had found ways to make machines that were small enough they could live inside us. They could, in turn, heal us, make us stronger, do all sorts of things. They could manufacture needed material at molecular levels, and perhaps even be powered by our own body systems. They were still in the experimentation stages with the technology, but…”

Puzo flipped on a switch and a monitor came to life. Luriel saw before her an almost familiar vision. She saw red cells surrounded by small bug-like creatures arranged in patterns. This was very similar to what she had seen when she had used the Raguelite-derived powers on the case from Vant. It was also no different that what she had seen in Thagiel’s blood. What did it mean?

“What I can not understand is why these are in your brother’s blood?”

Luriel did not understand either. She asked if possibly it was a part of the disease?

“No. I can actually see an invading presence doing damage. Look here, at this screen. That brownish round mass are invading viral elements. That is what is killing your brother. The nano-machines are actually trying to fight off the virus, but are not succeeding.”

Luriel was very confused. Why would there be bug-machines in Mathiel’s blood? Had the night-creature put them there with its sickness? Since Thagiel seemed to have them to, did all Engel have these strange bugs in their blood? Perhaps Puzo was wrong about them being nanotechnology. Perhaps what he was seeing was merely an expression of the divine that he could only explain as such. Yes, that must be it.

“You say the… the nanos are trying to stop the invader but are not able. Do you know why?”

Puzo shook his head.

“No, but one thing is apparent. The nano-machines are very sophisticated and form patterns that most likely can shrug off most of any diseases. It’s hard to put it into words, but I think there is some missing quality the nano-machines need to be able to defeat this virus. It seems to be able to resist the normal defense mechanisms that the body uses to fight infection, and the nano-machines are powerless against it as well.”

A missing quality? Luriel thought perhaps the object the Arioler had given her might be able to resolve that problem. Still, she needed both halves of the equation.

“Can you help my brother?”

“Yes. I believe I can synthesize a serum that will slow down the virus’s growth long enough for the body to at least have a fighting chance. The presence of the nano worries me, but as long as it does not turn on the host as well I think we can do this. But let me plan for a moment, scratch out some calculations based on maturation rate and cellular loss.”

Uncertain of exactly what half his words meant, Luriel moved out of his way as he moved toward his paper and notes. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw something that chilled her to the core.

Written on the page:
“If this new virus is immune to the healing power of the Raphaelite Engel, then perhaps this can be adapted as a weapon against the winged armies of the hated Church. Perhaps this is just what the enemies of the Pontifex need. Must consider further once child is helped.”

What had she done? If he knew this was Engel blood…

Puzo continued to work, slowly developing the elements needed to try and fight the virus’s continued growth. It was slow work, and the hours passed as dawn grew ever closer. Luriel wanted to help, but other than watch and hold items there was little she could do to speed the arcane work of the scientist.

When at last Puzo seemed finished, Luriel was blinking away sleep. She had been up for no small amount of time without meditation or rest. Sleep nagged at her, fogging her concentration. Puzo handed her a single syringe with just enough material to slow the virus down for days. He had done only minimal testing, but seemed confident that it would help her brother.

Holding the syringe in her hand, she felt the still new tingling sensation on her face as the Engelic marks returned to their rightful home. Her exhaustion and loss of concentration has resulted in her script reappearing across her face! Looking at her reflection in the glass she saw her Engelic face revealed!

Puzo looked at her, his eyes retracting and extending. He reached up and adjusted one of them, rotating a dial at the end of the lens.

“Lorry, something has gone wrong with my vision. These view-eyes were prototypes form Sadija’s notes and… well… I would swear that I see you as an En-”

Before he could finish Luriel sprinted from the room and down the steps. She ran across to where her weapons were stored, grabbing them quickly as she heard Puzo yelling for her to come back. The swords and guns in hand, the syringe safely dropped in her bag, she made for the door.

Luriel ran into Domiel, the man-machine, as he came in the only door. He seized her by the throat with one large hand and held her off the ground choking. Puzo rolled down the ramp behind her and shouted instructions to Domiel.

“Domiel, remove her cloak! Let me see if she is really one of them.”

Domiel, with the hand that did not constrict Luriel’s windpipe, reached out and ripped the cloak off of her. Her hastily grabbed weapons fell to the floor and her white wings were revealed. Puzo let out a gasp at the sight, even if it was through the monochromatic view of his false eyes. Luriel could hear them retract and buzz behind her.

“I never… imagined. Well, what should I do? I must think.”

Luriel tried to speak but the grip on her throat was too tight. Her vision was beginning to dim, as she could not breathe. The thing was squeezing tighter now, and its one fat eye was rolling about in its socket.

“Domiel, drop the Engel.”

Instead of complying, Domiel’s loathsome mouth opened and a breath as foul as rotting meat in its sickly sweetness blew out.

“Pretty wings, girl. Pretty.”

The other hand came up and went around her throat. She knew then that the beast meant to kill her. It was mad. This place was mad. Everything was mad. She felt her neck begin to pop, the vertebrae slowly being crushed between the massive hands of a thing not meant to live. Everything started to fade.

Then Luriel was on the floor. She smelled smoke. The wall behind Domiel was covered with bits of metal and blood. His fat eye lolled back and he fell over, the gun-shot wound to his head ending his miserable half-existence. Luriel, her hands to her ravaged neck, turned to see Puzo holding a smoking gun in his both hands. He shrugged as she looked at him uncomprehendingly.

“He wasn’t working out anyway.”

Luriel stood, but Puzo kept the gun on her. Did he kill the beast to save her, or only because it would not obey? She started to thank him, her voice sore in her throat.

“No-… tell me, why did you come here? Why, Engel?”

“I did not lie to you, sir. My brother is sick. He will die without the aid you have provided. I only hid my true nature for I feared you would not help one such as I.”

Puzo shook his head, now he uncomprehending.

“Do you mean to say… are you telling me that the blood in the vial… its Engel blood?!?”

Luriel nodded.

“If that is the case, do you not plan to destroy my notes, even kill me? Take the remaining samples of your brother’s blood back?”

“No. That is not right. You have helped me when I needed it. You might have refused to do so if you had known what I truly was, but still you helped me when I was in need. You are a good man despite your… other mistakes. It is wrong for me to hurt you for helping me.”

Puzo seemed taken back by Luriel’s rationality and fairness. Perhaps he thought all Engel blind warriors of dogma. Still, he was skeptical. This could still be a trap.

“Did you know I would find the nano-machines in the blood? Do you know anything about them?”

Luriel shook her head. She told him that she did not know why they were there, or what they really were. She did not speak of Vant, or of Thagiel.

“Do you want me to examine your blood? I could see what properties it possesses. See if you are the same?”

Luriel considered it, for the mystery of the machines intrigued her. She declined. Time was nearly exhausted, as dawn was barely an hour away. And, more importantly, she was not ready to ask questions such as this. She still held to the belief that if all Engel did have the presence of such in their blood, it was merely a manifestation of the divine, an expression of Engelic essence. Puzo only thought it was something else because he had no understanding of the spiritual nature of Engel. That had to be case.

Puzo told her she should go. He seemed old and frail then. He looked at her with his false eyes, and sent her on her way. There were mysteries in the world that would wait for explanation and understanding. He felt dwarfed by the invisible, and once alone, looked down at the cooling body of his failed creation. Perhaps he would start anew. Perhaps not.

Luriel ran through the streets, her cloak barely hiding her wings. She had to find an air shaft or some other means to fly up, and fast. The streets of the Undercity were deserted. All were elsewhere as the new day was about to begin. She saw a faint light ahead from an opening above, and ran in that direction. Almost there, she stepped on a broken bottle in the dark and shouted out as the glass cut into her foot.

Stumbling, she bent down to pull the shards out of her bleeding appendage. While kneeling, she heard footsteps. Someone was coming out of the shadows ahead of her. She pulled the gun Ian had given her from its holster and readied it. She had never fired a gun in her life, but she knew the idea well enough. She stood, the gun hidden beneath her cloak.

Ahead of her stood the last of the original three men that had plagued her when she had first entered the Undercity, the other two had already met their end. Before her was one of Edward’s thugs. The man had a large pistol aimed at her and was shouting that he would kill her for what she had done to Edward and his brother. She nodded, and then pulled forth the gun.

The recoil from its firing nearly took her off her feet, but her aim was true. The man flew backwards as the shot hit him square in the chest. Standing over him, his blood and her blood running out on the cobbled streets, Luriel prayed an apology to Adolphus. She had treated with heretic scientists, used forbidden sciences, and now killed a man with a heretic gun. She was well and truly damned.

Looking up, she threw off the torn cloak and flew into the wakening dawn.

[SotDX]

Flying against the dawn, Luriel tore through the wet air across the city. She did not have to look to see where her goal waited. She knew by instinct and her wings flew to the hospital with unerring accuracy and direction. Would there still be time?

Unknown to her, the cut across her heel from which she had pulled the bottle fragments still bled. Drops of crimson fell from the morning sky as she flew over Vienna, raining down as the tears of lost innocence. She had become the harbinger of change and the world would know it soon enough. In the distance storm clouds gathered awaiting their own time.

Exhausted, Luriel descended over the walls of the hospital and landed in the center of its courtyard grunting as her weight fell on her injured foot. Stumbling forward she moved with no small amount of speed heading for the main doors. Templar guards watched in surprise as the bedraggled Engel moved toward them. Her robes were torn and soiled, she was bleeding, and the look in her eyes was one of fire and inescapable determination. She would not be stopped. As she made her way up the steps she heard the sound of six bells ringing, marking the start of a new day. The sun was in the east and no time remained.

Throwing open the doors, Luriel limped into the main hall. Begines and monachs turned in surprise, both at her entrance and appearance. One begine of higher bearing than those around approached her.

“Luriel, I am Sarah, Ab of this hospital. Gavriel has told me of what has happened, and I give you my sorrows. You must accept-”

Luriel shoved the Ab out of her way with no small force and began to ascend up many stairs to the corner chamber where Mathiel (still?) suffered. The Ab called after her with anger and outrage, but Luriel did not slow. Nothing would stop her. Nothing.

She could hear Gavriel’s voice ahead arguing with someone. Cassiel was his target, it appeared, as she rounded the corner of the stairs and heard her own Raphaelite arguing back.

“Just a little more time, friend Gavriel. Rythe, the Templar who came with us, has nearly finished the ritual. These are slow matters of respect and tradition and you must give us the necessary consideration to-”

“Listen to me, little Engel! I am the Engelic authority here and I demand you move aside and open this portal! The given time has expired. I act with full authority of my order, and the Ab of this hospital. The diseased Engel inside will be dealt with now and no later!”

Cassiel saw Luriel before the others, as Gavriel and the two templars with him had their backs to her as she approached. She shouted ahead with all her force to Rythe inside to unlock and open the door, she was coming in. Gavriel turned in surprise, and was opening his mouth to shout her down when she dived past him and both the guards. The door opened before her as she and Cassiel dived in.

Rythe slammed the door back and re-bolted it as Luriel fell to the floor, her foot in agony. She was inside. Outside, barred from entry, Gavriel pounded on the door. The door was strong, but the hasta of the Templars with him would make short work of it soon. Time…

Rythe and Cassiel greeted her and asked if she succeeded in her search, but she did not reply. On her knees she moved toward Mathiel, pulling the syringe and the Arioler’s gift from her satchel. Mathiel’s breath was little more than a choked wheeze, his skin pale and yellow. Life was draining out of him. What if it was too late? No, it must not be.

Opening the leather wrap around the Arioler’s gift, Luriel found a small multi-sided metallic amulet with strange writing adorning its surface. It once looked as if it had held a chain on its top, but the ring to hold such was long broken. It felt old and ancient, and the light from the candles and window shimmered on its surface in an iridescent way. It was a thing of power, thrumming in her hands. She set it down on the ground on top of the wrap it had been held in, and picked up a chair and smashed it. Rythe started and Cassiel asked her is she had gone insane. Why had she done that?

It was instinct. Somehow she knew this was what was intended. The amulet had been smashed to mere power and dust, easily crushed under her weakening strength. She opened the back of the syringe, still holding the hard won serum, and poured the dust and fragments into the clear fluid. Closing the syringe, she held it up to the light as if as an offering to the morning sun. Please, God. I do this, heresy it may be, in your name.

The syringe began to glow as light suffused it. The powder swirling within vanished, apparently absorbed into the fluid. Standing on her hurt foot, Luriel grabbed Mathiel’s arm. The hasta were slamming into the door, chopping it apart. Outside the Ab of the hospital called those inside to open the door on her order. She could hear the Ab saying this was all madness.

Perhaps it was madness. So be it. The syringe’s plunger depressed, the clear fluid was injected deep into Mathiel’s veins. Cassiel prayed, trying to block out the crashing of the door. Rythe stood, considering whether he would fight brother Templars to save Mathiel. He did not know. Only the moment of truth would answer his question, if it came to such.

Luriel stood over Mathiel watching for any changes. She could see no change. She placed the empty syringe into her satchel and turned towards the door. The Templars had cut open a small gap and the Ab now shouted through it.

“Open this door and let me within. I order this be done!”

Cassiel and Rythe watched in confusion as Luriel unlocked the door and opened it. She knew that her time was up. If Mathiel was not going to be saved, the delay could continue no longer. It was time for fate to be decided.

The Ab entered, leaving a fuming Gavriel and two sweating Templars standing outside the chamber. Ab Sarah looked around the chamber, and walked over to Mathiel. She stroked the side of his face, and looked back at Luriel and her Fellowship with sympathy. She had seen many despair over the loss of those they loved. It was not easy for Engel to accept the loss of one of their brothers, especially in such a case as this. But, she noticed, something was not right.

“Luriel, I was to understand your Templar here was conducting an Urielite ritual of passing. If that is the case, where is the necessary incense? That is a critical component of the ritual the last time I heard it explained.”

Rythe looked down at his feet. Luriel limped forward, and spoke for her Fellowship.

“You are correct, Ab. I asked Rythe to perform what he knew of the ritual to provide me with the time to find a cure for Mathiel to save his life.”

The Ab nodded, and another look of sympathy passed her face. Despair can make the sanest among us do unspeakable things.

“I see. Well, I am sorry for your loss, but surely you have realized that there is no cure for what ails him?”

Luriel squeezed her hands tight and swallowed. Please, let it work.

“I think that if you ask Gavriel to examine Mathiel one last time before he commits murder he might find something to surprise the both of you. With respect, Ab.”

The Ab was intrigued. What was this Engel playing at? While it was not common knowledge that the blood-wrack existed, she knew for a fact there was no cure. Still, she had long since accepted that all things were possible in the glory of the Lord. She herself had been brought back from the point of death by the warm hands of an Engel of her own order.

The Ab ordered the furious Gavriel to lay his hands upon Mathiel and sense if any change had taken place in his health. The Raphaelite was unpleased, and grumbled about wasted time and inherent dangers in playing games. Still, he followed his orders. He placed both hands upon Mathiel’s chest and closed his eyes. His head rose up slowly, and Luriel could feel his surprise and confusion at what he sensed.

Gavriel turned around, rubbing the top of his head with his hand, and told the room what he had detected.

“This Urielite… he, he… he is fighting the disease. Successfully.”

Cassiel shouted out in joy and thankfulness. Rythe reached out to Luriel, and she took his hand. Adolphus may have fallen into darkness, but she had saved Mathiel. Was there a balance in the cost of such life and death? No. But she had done what she could. She could take peace in that.

The Ab turned and looked at Mathiel, and even to her human eyes she could see the barely perceptible change in his appearance. His skin was already less yellow, the signs of infection across his arms fading. He was fighting this off, by God!

Still, Gavriel was not yet finished with Mathiel. He turned back to the Ab and made his case anew.

“This changes nothing. I do not understand how this Engel is fighting off the blood-wrack, but still he must be destroyed. The law of our Order is clear; if any Engel contracts such a disease he is to be destroyed. There is nothing in the law to say that if he somehow manages to win more time in fighting it that he be spared. We must still kill him!”

All three, Cassiel Luriel and Rythe, in unison, shouted back at Gavriel in outrage. Their friend had been saved, and they would not see that be cast away by this healer turned executioner.

The Ab held up her hands and silenced the chamber. She considered the situation. Gavriel was correct. It was the law that stated the Urielite be killed. But again, the law was written with the understanding that no cure existed for such a plague. Perhaps there could be some consideration here.

“I have decided that Mathiel will live. Gavriel, I understand your opinion. Mathiel will be watched, and if he should relapse back into this disease he will be destroyed. But for the moment, as long as he heals and grows stronger, he will not be hurt but instead tended to and helped. It is our way to be healers, not killers. Now, I ask you to see that Mathiel’s strength is reinforced and heal Luriel’s injuries.”

Gavriel did not argue with the Ab, but the disgust on his face made it clear he was not pleased and did not agree with her decision. He moved to heal Luriel, laying his hands on her leg. As he worked his potestate causing the torn skin to re-knit, the Ab approached Luriel and spoke softly to her.

“Luriel, I want to speak with you shortly in my chambers, alone. We will discuss this matter further. And Gavriel, I want it understood I do not want this matter discussed further here or anywhere else. Do you both understand?”

Gavriel and Luriel both gave their consent. The Ab turned and walked out of the chamber past the splintered door. Gavriel walked over to Mathiel as Luriel put more weight on her now healed foot.

“Gavriel, I want to thank you and tell you I understand you were doing what you thought was best. I do not want there to be anything between us as brother and sister Engel.”

Gavriel did not reply. He turned his head and gave her a look of disgust. Nodding, Luriel turned away. She had made an enemy. She could live with that. Mathiel lived!

Telling Rythe and Cassiel to watch over Mathiel until she returned, Luriel headed forth to speak with Ab Sarah. Did they know of Adolphus’s death yet? She had saved Mathiel, but now the cost of his salvation would come to bear.

[SotDX]

Luriel stood outside the chamber of the Ab of the hospital, Em Sarah. She expected to be raked over the very coals of hell for her actions. She had defied the authority of her senior Engel in the operation of their duties, trafficked with heretical powers, and had failed to save Adolphus. She’d even shoved the Em. This would not be pleasant.

Once this was finished and she had been told the severity of her crimes, she then had to tell her brothers what had happened to Adolphus. Despite their joy over Mathiel’s turn, would they still find her such a hero when they learned she had turned her back on her sacred charge? Eyes downcast, she was shown into the chamber of the leader of the single Church outpost in Vienna. And so it would come. Worse, she felt she deserved the reproach and anger.

Without arrogance she entered the bookshelf lined chamber. It appeared Em Sarah was literate, a rare attribute among the lower orders of the Church. She stood before the Em’s great wooden desk. On the wall were framed medical instruments. The wall behind the Em spoke of her life as a healer, one committed to saving lives.

Luriel tried to read the Em’s face. She could tell nothing; Sarah’s face was a mask of neutrality. She motioned to a chair.

“Please sit, Luriel. We have much to speak of.”

Luriel swallowed. The instinct to seek approval surfaced. She had a child-like urge to apologize and beg forgiveness from this figure of Church authority. Refusing to allow such feelings to subvert her mental state, she sat and waited.

“I have only seen a miracle cure that defied my belief once before in my life. That was over twenty years ago. This morning I have seen a second. I want you to be completely honest with me. I will not broach any lies or suffer any deceit. Do not hide the truth to protect your actions or yourself.”

Luriel met her stony gaze, unflinching.

“Good. Now, tell me- how did you cure him?”

Without hesitation, Luriel answered. She did not try to lie.

“I left Rythe performing the ritual as a delaying tactic, as I already said. While he was working to keep Gavriel away, I went to the Undercity. It was made known to me that within that place lived a man, what they call here a tek-keep, who might have the knowledge to help. You see, this man was an expert in blood-science.”

The Em nodded. Luriel could see wrinkles become more distinct on the bridge of her nose and on her forehead. Sarah did not speak, and waited for Luriel to continue.

“The man of science was able to create something to help. He was not certain it would save him, but it would help slow down the infection. I… I in turn had something else to help. It was something I found, an artifact. A very old one. Following my instincts and a voice within, I combined the two.”

The Em still listened, her face unchanging.

“That saved him. That is all.”

The Em leaned back, and closed her eyes. Luriel was more distressed by her lack of reaction so far. What was brewing within her? Surely she would speak against her actions?

“Luriel, I… am glad you found a way to save your fellow. I would hate to see an Engel die, especially in such a horrific fashion. But you must realize what you have done?”

“I did what I felt I had to.”

“I can see that. But answer me this: can this cure be repeated? Have you found some way to defeat the blood-wrack whenever it might appear?”

Luriel was taken aback. She had not even considered such a thing. While the serum could be re-created, the amulet had been entirely consumed in the process. While the source of the amulet had been destroyed by the Dreamseed, Luriel imagined that even when the Arioler had lived in Eisenstadt an amulet such as she had used would have been dearly rare.

“No. The cure is not repeatable. It relied on a rare element that I do not think could be replicated.”

The Em seemed relieved.

“That settles it. No word of this will be recorded. I shall remind Gavriel that he will never speak of this, and you must promise me neither you nor your Fellowship will speak of Mathiel’s illness or how he was cured.”

Luriel, still surprised at the direction the conversation had taken, nodded.

“Now, I want you to understand that the tech-lords of this city and the other rogue areas of Europe are dangerous. You may have lucked out and succeeded this time, but next time you will not be so lucky.”

Luriel nodded, agreeing. The Em was a very wise woman, and very fair.

“Now, while I am pleased that Mathiel will be with the living, there is a more grave matter we must discuss. I had only received word of what had happened in the night as you entered the doors this morning.”

The memory of pushing the Em out of the way stung Luriel’s mind. She had to apologize. She started to do so, but the Em ignored her and continued.

“Forget that matter. I speak of Adolphus.”

Luriel sat up in her chair. Did Sarah already know? Word had traveled then.

“I already know, Sarah. He is dead.”

It was the Em’s turn to be surprised.

“So you do know. Then you know that he was found at the base of the renegade’s tower. We believe Thagiel, traitor to the end, threw him off. We have a witness who has informed the Templar guard she believes she saw Thagiel at the edge watching as Adolphus fell. The renegade made no effort to save him.”

What should she say? She had seen it happen from Thagiel’s eyes. Had he pushed him? It was so confusing in her mind. And then there was the word… or name? “Leif.” What did it mean?

“I realize Adolphus was close to you. I believe he was even your own nonnus? Again, you have my condolences. Know that he will be given a ceremony of great honor and buried on our grounds. But also know this: I consider his death to be partly your fault. You chose to search out this cure for Mathiel when you should have been watching over the charge of your mission. You made a choice; one life for another. I hope you are at peace with that. If not, it will haunt you. Believe me, I know.”

Luriel felt the tears begin to run down her cheeks. She wiped at them, and stifled the sob that tried to come. Sarah softened, and reached out her hands to Luriel’s.

“Be strong. You still have to tell the others. And the next few days will be very hard. This is an act of war, or at least that is how it will be seen. The people of the city will think we are now the enemy. The satrap will have to make hard choices. Thagiel may be coming after you and yours next.”

Luriel steadied herself. She would be strong. She was an Engel.

“I admit, Em, I am not certain that Thagiel did do this. I do not suggest that Adolphus threw himself or that he fell, but that it is far more complicated than either of us understand.”

The Em considered this.

“Whatever is the truth, we must live within the reality of what is perceived. As I said, be strong. I may call on you soon to help defend our walls if the sky turns dark.”

Luriel stood, and promised her that the Fellowship would be ready to defend and aid the hospital as needed. Now that Adolphus was gone, their mission was over. All that was left was to return to Prague in shame. Unless, of course, she could find some way to achieve Adolphus’s goals herself. This was complicated, of course, as she had never been fully told what the goals were.

Leaving the Em’s chambers, Luriel walked back up the stairs to where Rythe and Cassiel waited with sleeping Mathiel. She had dreaded speaking with the Em in fear of the chastising she had known was coming. Telling her brothers how they all had failed and Adolphus was dead would be so much worse.

[SotDX]

With a heavy heart and an exhausted body Luriel walked up the steps to her Fellowship. There was no easy way to tell them; Adolphus was dead. She could only hope they would not blame themselves. It was her fault alone.

Opening the door, she entered the still jubilant air. Cassiel was wiping Mathiel’s brow. The Urielite’s color had returned, and his breath was more even. He was making a marvelous recovery. Rythe squatted in a corner, half awake. The long vigil of false ceremony had worn him to his core. They were all exhausted. She considered waiting, telling them to rest… but no. It was wrong. They should know, and delaying would not make the blow any less painful.

Shutting the remains of the door, Luriel asked them to listen.

“I have something most dire to tell you. In the night while you protected Mathiel and I searched for his cure Adolphus fell to his death from Thagiel’s tower.”

The feeling of the room changed at once; the celebratory air evaporated and anger took its place. Rythe was on his feet at once.

“How could this happen? It was Thagiel, the rebel Engel, was it not! The rebel did this!”

Rythe’s face was a mask of rage. He started to reach for his hasta and armor. Luriel had been afraid of something like this.

“Wait Rythe! Revenge is out of the question. I know you are angry. I am too. I blame myself for this happening. If I had been there… but going off for revenge against Thagiel will do no good. We have to stay calm, and decide what the best action is. And I tell you, it is not violence.”

Rythe was still furious and hungered for blood, but did not try to press past Luriel. He lowered his hasta, and his face changed from anger to sorrow.

“We should have been there for him… he was my charge. I stood by him since Prague, watching over him as he slept. My men died to protect him. I… I can’t believe it’s over. That it would end like this!”

Luriel comforted him. She felt the same way.

“I know. I know. Believe me, this is not how I wanted our mission to end either. But, you must understand me, I am not certain Thagiel did kill Adolphus. It is what everyone immediately thinks, but there may be more to it than that.”

Luriel had been worried about Rythe and his anger and want for revenge, but she had forgotten entirely about Cassiel. Quiet Cassiel the healer was not her concern at the moment, for he was no battle-worn warrior hungry for blood. She learned she was wrong as he opened the window over Mathiel’s bed and shouted back at her with bitterness.

“You may wish to believe fascinating Thagiel is not the cause of his death, but we know the truth! If I am the only Engel noble enough to make him suffer for his crimes, then so be it!”

Luriel was shocked. The Cassiel she knew had been replaced by a winged demon hell-bent on revenge. He had become a creature of pure wrath. She tried to stop him but he was out the window and flying toward Thagiel’s tower in the time it took her to cross the room.

“Rythe, please, stay here. Guard Mathiel. Trust me, all will be well.”

Rythe nodded, but he felt a hollow doubt in his chest. The Fellowship had been saved, but now it began to fail. He half-wished Cassiel would reach his target and do what should be done. Sighing, he sat down, and put his face in his hands. Poor Adolphus. Forgive us for our trespasses and remember us as worthy men.

Luriel tried to catch up with Cassiel. Surely she would be able. Cassiel was the weakest flier in the Fellowship. She had often slowed her flight just to keep him from feeling left behind. He was the weak one, the soft one.

He flew as a thing possessed.

She saw him reach the tower ahead of her. She was still barreling down at him when she watched him pull his twin sickles from his back. If she did not stop him, Thagiel would surely destroy him, just as he had ended three other Engel sent against him in the years past. She had to stop him!

Cassiel stood before the darkened entry into the inner chamber of the tower. No lights burned within. The windows were covered. Strange smells of this heretic land suffused the air around him. No more! He would end this, do what should have been done long before.

“Come out you coward of empty places and twisted lands! Come out into the light and show yourself! Come out and be cleansed by my hands!”

Luriel had never seen Cassiel walk with such purpose, such determination. He was a completely different being. In a different circumstance, she would have felt pride and admiration for her brother. This situation, sadly, was entirely different.

Thagiel made his presence known. In the darkness of the inner chamber his loin-cloth clad body began to glow, emitting a blue spectral light. The air began to crackle.

“Little Engel, I warn you: leave my tower.”

Cassiel’s hard steps faltered at the sight of his enemy. Inside him the blood-red decision had already been made- he would die if necessary, but he would try to end the blight.

Luriel landed and tackled him, his sickles thrown to the ground. She climbed up and stood before him, blocking his view of Thagiel. She wanted him to see nothing but her face. He rose to his feet and in a cold murderous voice told her to step aside.

“The killer must be removed from this world.”

She had to stop this. She raised her arms to block him.

“No! Not this way. Let me talk to him. Let me find out what happened! If he did do this, I will help you punish him. You have to back off!”

For a moment it was working. Then Cassiel caught sight of Thagiel’s icy expression, his haughty arrogance. Turning, Cassiel looked over the balcony. Luriel saw this as a sign he was backing down. What she did not know was what he was imaging in his head. Cassiel saw Thagiel raise the shouting form of Adolphus over his head. He saw him toss him over. He saw him laughing with that arrogant hateful look as Adolphus tumbled over and over into oblivion.

The next moment was a blur. Cassiel pushed Luriel back, and worse, pulled her short blade with him. To her distress he charged Thagiel with her blade held high.

Thagiel sighed. He was tired. Terribly tired. He raised his arms and pushed with his mind. Cassiel felt himself thrown back by an invisible force. The blade still in hand he slid to the edge of the tower and nearly went off the platform.

“Let that be a lesson to you child. Learn not to challenge your betters.”

Cassiel got back to his feet. His face was twisting further into a paroxysm of blind wrath. Luriel tried to move toward him but he snapped at her to stay back. He turned back to Thagiel and unleashed his rage.

“Perhaps the lesson is more how you killed him. He was your friend! Your teacher! How could you? You disgust me! You are nothing but filth! A murderer!”

His eyes squinted black specks, Cassiel took Luriel’s blade and sliced himself along the inside of his arm in a spiral. Luriel shouted out “No!” Why was he hurting himself? Her answer came from inside the tower. Thagiel shouted out in pain!

Luriel watched in surprise as the mirror of Cassiel’s self inflicted wound appeared on Thagiel’s own arm. The cut ran slowly, as if a spectral knife moved over his skin. How could this be? Thagiel seemed as unprepared for this attack as Luriel.

Cassiel dropped the knife. His face had drained of blood.

“What have I become?”

He turned and flew away from the tower. Luriel was left with the image of his self-disgust. She had heard of members of the Raphaelite Order perverting their healing talents into a weapon of war, able to inflict wounds on the enemy instead of healing the hurt. It was a dark thing, the perversion of what one was intended to be. She was beginning to learn this lesson, and the being before her who now fell to his knees was the living embodiment of it.

“Thagiel… what have you done?”

The question took on greater meaning as Luriel stepped into the chamber. Everything was demolished. Shelves were overturned, books ripped apart, glass broken, and machines in pieces. He had flown into a rage and destroyed his sanctuary. The sight of it all brought forth the sadness and pain inside her.

Luriel took a cloth from atop a broken box and kneeled down by the quiet Engel. She slowly bound his wound. The blood was red and warm as it dripped on her hands. Tightening the last knot, Thagiel raised his head and looked at her with a sadness and despair to dwarf her own.

“Luriel, I will tell you what happened. I ask you to judge me.”

With expectant eyes, Luriel listened as the fragile Engel told her of his crime.”

[DariusTech]

More! More! What did he do, and why?

[SotDX]

NOTE: THERE ARE SEVERAL KEY SPOILERS IN THIS PART. BE THUS WARNED.

Amid the broken remains and scattered books the two Engel kneeled together. One was a study in hollow pain, his face despondent, his presence empty of spirit. The other watched him, worried, and unsure of what to say.

There was little sound, only the hint of a growing breeze and the gentle intake of Thagiel’s breath. Luriel was growing frustrated. He had said he would explain, but he had simply sat there. She looked at the broken machines. Even his artificial man who had brought her a drink lay scattered, his head ripped free and his metal innards exposed. Had he done it out of grief or guilt?

“I am sorry.”

Luriel started at the sound of his voice, the silence broken at last. She turned to him, and he raised his head and looked at her. Even squatting on the ground he dwarfed her. She felt small. His gaze still overpowered her with his unblinking eyes.

“I will tell you what happened. Before I do, hear this; I accept what I have done. My sins are my own. No one made me this way. I have shaped myself into the flawed vessel that exists before you.”

Luriel listened. He needed to speak of this. She was his confessor.

“In the beginning I wanted Adolphus here. My life then… when I was within the bosom of the Church- it seems at times to be a distant childhood half remembered. When I remember some aspects of it, I fly into a rage. The lies, the deceit… they will tell you falsity after falsity and pledge you to not only listen but worship them for it!”

He squeezed his hands tight and curled up tighter. Luriel felt waves of agony from him, sensing his emotions as if they were pouring off of him. There was a great turbulence inside him.

“Thagiel, I understand…”

His head flashed up and fixed her with a look of hatred.

“You know nothing little Engel! Before you came here you wallowed in their worship. The truth is hidden from you. You could reach out and taste it, but they hide it from you. Do you not see? You are blind!”

He hit the ground next to him and chips flew from the impact. Clutching his hand, he howled in pain. Before her eyes his body had begun to twitch. She grew uneasy. She began to feel in actual danger of being hurt by him.

And with that, the anger passed and the calm Thagiel re-emerged from his psychic struggle. His face eased, and he looked at Luriel with brooding eyes.

“Forgive me. Sometimes I can slip away into the most terrible rages. It has grown worse these past few years, and now… with the end so close…”

His voice trailed away. What did he mean the end so close? She started to ask but he interrupted her.

“As I said, I found the company of Adolphus as the warmth of forgotten memories. My exchanges with him, my verbal and mental games of philosophy and trick… the past washed over me. I felt I could show him how far I had grown past him, and he still had a way of making feel the frightened postulant. And yet, there was a warmth in him and affection for me. It was palpable.”

Luriel knew this to be true. The tender words Adolphus, God rest his soul, had spoken about Thagiel before he had rebelled proved it true.

“I did not know why they sent him. No, that is not true. I did think I knew why, but I was wrong. I was a fool. Why would they go to such trouble and lengths to bring me back into their fold? Perhaps I have become the arrogant god-ling they think of me as.”

He shook his head, laughing at himself.

“What did you think he came here for?” Luriel wanted to know.

“It is simple, Luriel. I, the fool, thought they just wanted me to return. Perhaps be purified, perhaps as a sign of unification and victory. I knew how I was seen in Roma. I was a high devil in the great Satan’s army. God, the irony.”

“Thagiel, don’t you want to be purified and return to Heaven?”

Thagiel looked at her after she asked her question. His eyes were sad. She felt like he knew something most awful that she did not, and she was the fool for asking such a question.

“Luriel, do you have any friends who are near the age of purification? The one you mentioned to me before… Jaciel. Is he not close to the age?”

Luriel nodded.

“I will answer your question with this: consider suggesting to Jaciel he refuse purification.”

Luriel did not know how to respond. What was he saying?

“Why would I stop him? Heaven is our reward!”

Thagiel looked down. He was keeping secrets from her. She did not like this.

“Tell me!”

“Luriel, I will only say to you what I have. If you care for Jaciel as I can feel you do, do not let him be purified. Better he die a death fighting for what he believes in than vanish in the smoke of he who leads.”

Again, Luriel was confused.

“But let me speak again of what happened here. I must express this or it will destroy me. As I said, the verbal games between Adolphus and I continued for some time. Then, at last, I grew impatient. I wanted to know why he had come. After our time reacquainting I wanted to speak of the business of the moment. I was prepared to tell him that I would never return to the Church, but try to make him understand why I fight the Fear-Lord from this place now. As I said, I was surprised by his answer to my inquiry.”

“What did he say?”

Thagiel stood and looked away, trying to decide something. More games. She grew frustrated.

“He told me something I already knew. Or at least, I had extrapolated for myself. There will be no more Engel very soon. The source is gone. Without the source, only a finite number can come into existence. When that finite number is exhausted… there will be no new Engel.”

Luriel was thunderstruck. Jaciel had spoken of his fears and the signs he seen, even asking the Ab about them. Thagiel had made strange inferences about just such a thing when she had first met him. But to actually say it! How could it have come to pass?

“Explain this to me.”

Thagiel considered the need in Luriel’s eyes. It was as a mirror. He could see her mind aching to understand. If she lived, she would go far. Perhaps she could change this world. If only she knew what lay ahead for her…

“I will hide certain things from you. They are things you should know, but I fear you are not ready to hear them. Adolphus was not.”

Luriel was uncertain what he meant, and then she looked to the edge of the tower’s landing. Had something Thagiel said driven Adolphus over the edge?

“I spoke before of Trondheim and its fall. You know of what I speak of when I mention it?”

“Yes. It was the location of the Raguelite Himmel, your order, one of the two that have been lost when the Infernos of the Dreamseed either destroyed or blocked access to the lands. In the case of Trondheim, the actual Himmel was destroyed.”

“You are correct. And with the Himmel went something very precious. Unknown to but a few, the source of something precious necessary in the formation of all Engel was located in that Himmel. When it was destroyed, the source for all orders ceased to exist. I had always suspected such, but until last night… I never knew for certain.”

That meant Adolphus had told him such was true. He had never spoken of such to her.

“I’m confused, Thagiel. We are Engel from Heaven. Why would there be an earthly source in a Himmel? Even if such a thing did exist, why would it not be in the Himmel of each order instead of only in the lost Himmel?”

Thagiel nodded. If he could only tell her everything… but he would not. He did not want to destroy her. She was not ready yet.

“Good questions. You are thinking. Let me continue. Adolphus came here to me because he believed I would know the source could be re-created.”

After all this time, she at last knew why they had come. They had come for this: to save the future of the Engel.

“And do you know such wisdom? Can you help the Church restore what was lost in Trondheim?”

Thagiel sighed, and laughed a soft broken laugh.

“No, Luriel. I do not know such things. I never have. No Engel was ever made privy to the dark genesis that births us up wings and all into this world. I am afraid I am in the dark about what technologies sacred or otherwise were lost when the Inferno obliterated all that I once held dear.”

Her world crumbled. All the death, loss, and destruction she had faced. Touriel. Kyriel. Mathiel almost. Now Adolphus. And for what? He had never possessed what they wanted to begin with.

“It surprises me they ever thought I would have such knowledge. It is true I have learned more about my own nature than any Engel before me. But knowledge such as they require, as Adolphus wanted… it is beyond me.”

Luriel sunk down and leaned against a broken bookcase.

“Finish telling what happened. I need to hear this, and I think you need to tell it.”

“Yes. I do not know if I can describe my feeling when Adolphus asked this knowledge of me. Perhaps it was anger. Perhaps confusion? It brought forth a vengeful surge in me. I became vicious. In my years in the wilderness away from watchful eyes I have learned many things. I wanted to find out just how much he had known and kept from me about what we truly are.”

What we are? We are Engel, Luriel thought.

“I began slowly, but the tempo rose as I began to tear into him. He resisted, but with time I worked into the bare truth. I told him something that festered at the heart of all he held dear. Something old, cruel, and wrong. Something dark about the nature of Engel. I wanted to see if he knew it for himself and lived with it.”

Luriel considered his words. Something dark about the nature of Engel?

“I was reckless.”

His voice became soft. He seemed more and more vulnerable.

“I should have been more careful with him. He was fragile. Old. Weak. Human. And yet, I charged into him, ripping and tearing. I spoke the words before him. At first he did not believe me. I… I was arrogant. I had to prove myself. He reacted. He hadn’t known, or so it seemed. The truth was too much for him. It became too much with him.”

He covered his face.

“I tried to stop him, calm him. I realized he had not known before. The way he reacted to me, it was painfully clear the Church had kept him in the dark about the truth. I reached out to him, trying to pull him back. He had grown closer and closer to the edge. He was raving. It was like a bad dream… one where you can not move and the dark thing is coming for you. Instead here, though, the dark thing is yourself.”

Thagiel was in pain. It hurt to speak the words.

“He leapt from the edge. I was going to fly after him, save him. Even then, seeing how pitiful he was… I still loved the man. I loved him. Do you see that?”

Luriel nodded, but he did not look at her to see.

“And the he spoke the word. The damnable word. The black word that is still in my mind even now! He changed everything.”

This was the word Leif, she wondered? Thagiel turned to her and approached.

“He destroyed me. I have remembered everything. I have recalled past glories and horrors. I have walked the days of childhood and dreamed the dreams of the infant. I have done all that but still been kept from the most sacred of possessions… my… my…”

His lips moved but Luriel could not tell what he said. It began with an ‘n’. He was too unstable to stop and ask.

“Don’t you see? HE KNEW IT ALL ALONG! The damn bastard may have been kept away from some of it, but HE KNEW THAT! THE LYING BASTARD!”

Thagiel picked up his broken chair and threw it into the wall. The wood splintered and flew in all directions. His eyes blazed. His breath heaved.

He crumpled to the floor.

“And so I let him fall. I pulled away as the word burned into my soul. He gave me everything and took it away at once. And so… he fell.”

There was nothing else. He lay crumpled on the floor. He had bared his soul, but Luriel was left with endless questions. What the hell was he talking about? What was the significance of the word? Was it a name? Something more? There was so much she did not understand.

“Thagiel, I don’t understand everything, but I do understand enough.”

She swallowed. It was not easy to say this, but she was strong.

“I forgive you.”

He looked up at her. His face was lost in sorrow. He had the look of a man who had murdered his own past.

Luriel reached out to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her skin tingled at the touch of his flesh. He reached out to her and placed his hand on her arm. The tingling grew stronger.

“There is much I would still tell you, but now is not the time. Though I may die, you will live on. I do not envy the wilderness you will tread, but I promise you this: you will never walk the darkness alone.”

With his words said, Luriel felt a sudden surge through her arm where he held it. A circle of energy was formed, surging through from him into her and back into him. Her eyes were filled with a white light as the feeling overwhelmed her, stronger than when he laid his hand upon her head or she had used his machine.

In the white light, she knew it to be true; the two were as one, two in flesh, one in spirit, all in infinity.

And then there was a darkness, but it was a thing most pleasant and sweet.

[SotDX]

More! More! What did he do, and why?

That tells you what he did. Not so sure it tells you all the why... but in time, all questions will be answered. Of course, it is a question of just how much time... :)

SotDX

[SotDX]

There were two. They were distinct from one another.

Across the gulf each watched it’s opposite. There was no junction, no joining, no linking between what each was and was not.

The two had hearts that beat apart, no rhythm in their cadence.

The two had minds that flickered and flamed, but their patterns were never the same.

Then, just as things had not been, they became. A fusion of essence, a coupling of uniqueness… the two began to join. One marveled over the experience and age she felt within the vastness of life within the other. The other reveled in the innocence and spirit undimmed blazing within the young soul.

They dreamed as two, and then as one- two hearts and minds within one body. Together.

Neither was alone. Memory of separation faded into dust. This was truth, beauty, and wholeness. Never did the one wish again to be two.

And never would they, even when the dark days would rain down upon them.



Luriel awoke from the strange dream lying on her side in a cot. She rubbed at her eyes, confused as to where she was and what had happened. The dream had been so strange, as if she was merging with someone else. What had happened in it? The memory was fading, though it let a strange feeling in her mind. Part of the feeling was contentment, and a sense of intimacy she was unprepared for.

Thinking of the fading dream, she found Thagiel’s handprint on her arm. The gold outline of his fingers was still visible, the skin still warm and tingling. Again, the thought of it made her feel calmed and at ease.

Luriel could hear the growing storm outside. Thunder crashed and high winds whipped outside the tower. Rain beat against the outer walls, a sound she found pleasant. Looking around, she found Thagiel.

The rebel Engel floated in the center of the chamber some distance from the floor. His eyes were shut, his wings outstretched but hanging, and his arms to his sides. Luriel marveled at the way he could hang in the air as if floating, and apparently even while sleeping!

Luriel lay in her suspended cot and watched the sleeping Raguelite. His chest slowly rose and fell as he breathed in and out, his golden wings gently moving in the languid breeze of the tower chamber. She looked at him, absorbing his form and fairness. His long hair hung over his shoulders, framing his powerful face.

It was a strange feeling Luriel felt. It was not the type of feeling she had felt for Adolphus, the warm sense of respect and appreciation she had held for the nonnus. Instead, Luriel felt a vague sense of longing and joy while starting at Thagiel’s sleeping form.

Were these feelings wrong? Luriel did not know. This was, in the eyes of many, Adolphus’s murderer. She was still unsure what she believed herself. He had let Adolphus fall. He had admitted such before her with complete honesty. He had driven the nonnus into some kind of unstable state of mind. These were the acts of a murderer.

And yet… he had not wanted his old nonnus to die. He had been crippled when Adolphus had said the word… the name. But how did she know this? Had the dream been more than a dream? She now felt more than a longing for Thagiel, she also felt a deep trust. She felt as if she knew him as well as he knew himself.

Thagiel stirred, his form slowing descending. He opened his eyes, no longer asleep. Luriel closed hers but for a crack, watching him. She feigned sleep, quietly observing him awaken. He stretched his arms and wings as he lowered, landing on the floor with a gentle step.

Luriel felt strange hiding and watching him, but she did so all the same. It felt right. Thagiel turned and surveyed the chamber, considering the upset bookcases and tables. Luriel noticed that some of the books and items had already been set back in order while she had slept.

She watched as he decided to attempt repair of his broken metal man. Kneeling before the broken sections of its torso, he worked his hands into the mechanism and started turning and pulling wires with focus and decision. In this stolen moment, Luriel watched him as he was when alone, lost in a personal pursuit. He was a Raguelite, an Engel set over technological arts. This was his truest expression of identity, and watching him told her that at his core he was still the Thagiel who had flown forth from Trondheim as a messenger of God.

The moment ended, as all must. Something was wrong with the metal man’s innards, and Thagiel cast the piece of torso away in frustration. He leaned on his arm, his face occluded with a look of defeat and loss. He seemed so lost then, as if it was not the machines that were damaged, but he.

Luriel opened her eyes fully and started to get up from the cot. She wanted to go to him, try to comfort him. They both had lost Adolphus. Together (like in the dream) they would be able to shoulder the pain and loss. Together-

Before she could say anything or retrieve her footing Thagiel turned and walked across to a distant wall. He approached a device similar to the communication apparatus Luriel had found in her chamber in the apartments prepared for them. A light was blinking on the side of the device, but no sound came from it. Thagiel lifted the handset of the device.

Luriel waited, unsure whether she should approach. She was curious as to whom he spoke to, but approaching would violate Thagiel’s privacy. His voice was muffled, and she could not understand his words or the words of whoever had called. She would wait. She could speak to Thagiel when he was finished, and then, perhaps, they could talk of the future. Would he come back to Prague with her?

Thagiel set the handle back down with some force, and spoke to Luriel without looking at her. His voice was empty of affection or kindness, cold and efficient. He spoke with a chill.

“Luriel, you need to go.”

She was surprised at the coldness of his tone and the dismissive nature of his statement. Why did he act so? Stepping down from the cot she approached him, and reached out to his arm, trying to get him to look at her. He flinched at her touch and pulled away.

“Thagiel, what is wrong? What has happened?”

He did not look her in the eyes, instead his gaze was directed at the fading imprint of his hand on her arm. Sighing, he answered her. His voice was incredibly sad.

“Forgive me. I am sorry this happened. I should never have…”

Luriel reached for his face, trying to get him to look her in the eyes. Had the dream unsettled him so much?

“Luriel, you need to go.”

He stepped away, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. She did not understand.

“Why do I need to go? I feel I understand you better than ever before. I feel like we have reached some level of understanding I never thought possible!”

Thagiel crossed his arms and his voice grew firm and unpleasant.

“You must go because you have an angry and confused Raphaelite that you must speak to. If you do not, then certain problems will grow considerably worse.”

Cassiel, she thought. He had left so upset, both at what he had done and what had happened. She felt pangs of guilt at the thought of him flying off before and her not going after him.

“Still, I think there are at least a few matters we have to discuss. The death of Adolphus changes things, but still some good can come of our journey here.”

Thagiel started to walk toward the entrance to his tower.

“I am afraid I am also needed at the palace.”

With that he left her, flying off into the gathering storm clouds outside. Luriel stepped out on the balcony, wanting to call after him but knowing it was useless. The moment they had shared in his confession and the sharing of consciousness that had come from his touch had passed. He was alone again, aloof. Thagiel was again walled away, unapproachable and untouchable.

Looking back at the broken parts of his chamber, her eyes lingering over the torn wires and shredded metal of the artificial man, she felt the joy in her heart fade and worry eclipse it. Thunder boomed as the storm grew worse over the city, and Luriel flew into the turbulent skies bound for the hospital where her Fellowship awaited her.

[SotDX]

Something was very wrong below.

Luriel neared the grounds of the monastery, and witnessed a large mob gathered outside. Guardsmen of the city ringed the high walls, and the Templar guard seemed doubled. How bad had things become?

Descending to her landing, Luriel felt a twinge of pain in her abdomen. Her back also ached, a strange and unpleasant feeling. It did not stop her landing, but worried her. Had she been injured in some way that she had not yet realized?

The Templars called out in alarm as she glided to a halt inside the walls, and several approached her as if to attack. Luriel called out to them to hold back! The Church Soldiers lowered their hasta and stopped when they realized her identity.

“Forgive us, Luriel. We thought… we thought you were the rebel, the murderer!”

Sighing, Luriel nodded. Was this the source of the mob outside? Had word spread and twisted? It seemed Adolphus’s death was the cause of the chaos outside and in. The wind whipped at her long hair and pulled at her wings. Fighting against its pull, she approached the Templars.

“What is happening here? Everything seems to be a state of high alarm!”

She almost had to shout to be heard over the wind and rain. The armatura of the Templars answered her question, drawing ever closer to be heard.

“All is unrest. We are on high alert as the Austrian Guardsmen have surrounded the hospital walls. The mob outside are angry and looking for destruction. It is common word that war is upon us.”

Luriel listened, but shook her head in dismay and distress.

“Why war, Templar?”

“Well… it seems clear to us that the rebel Engel killed our ambassador as a prelude to open warfare. Why would these guards be surrounding our walls if they were not preparing for an assault? We must be ready. Your fellowship will stand with us and help defend the walls, will it not?”

She could see the want of reassurance in the commander’s eyes, the looks of despair in the brave Templars’ faces. These were men who faced insurmountable foes and fought on, but this was another matter. If the monastery was to be surrounded and destroyed, there was little hope of survival.

“If we are attacked, you can rest assured that my Fellowship will stand and fight beside you. We Engel will not abandon you.”

She hated saying the words, not for the sudden reassurance she saw in their eyes, but for the admission of the possibility of an attack. Yes, she would defend her brothers and sisters. But it would not come to war. She would see to that.

She asked the armatura to accompany her to the wall, and lead him to a sealed gateway. Opening the wooden doors, Luriel called out to one of the Austrian Guarsdmen standing outside the walls.

“Sir, tell me why you are here at our door?”

He answered, but his words were lost in the rumble of thunder, the howl of the wind, and the general cacophony of the crowd. He shouted then, leaning into the opening in the doors.

“We were ordered to stand guard here!”

“And for what purpose?”

The guard considered her question, perhaps unclear of its meaning. At last he shouted back to her loudly enough for several of the templars inside to hear.

“Lord Constance informed us to guard the hospital and protect it from the mob. Word in the city is a new heretic war is brewing, and that you mean to strike out. The angry folk here want to strike first. We aim to keep them back away from you.”

Luriel smiled at the shocked looked on the armatura next to her at the Austrian’s words. Patting him on the shoulder, she spoke softly into his ear.

“This men are no attackers. For the moment, you can consider them as strength added to yon walls.”

Relieved at the tension calmed, Luriel turned back to the hospital proper. She had Cassiel’s sickles in her bag, and gently touching them made her think of him. He had left so broken, so angry. What would she say to him when she saw him? Would he be angrier with her or with himself? The healer had become the inflictor of wounds.

Entering, she was pleased to be out of the storm. The wind and rain had drenched her from head to toe, her wings dripping with rivulets of water. Between angry mobs and turgid storms, she ached for the company of her Fellowship. Perhaps with their companionship the madness would fade and reason would prevail. Her insides ached again, a twisting pain deep within. Grimacing, she walked toward the part of the building where her friends were waiting.

On the way, she encountered someone not quite a friend.

Gavriel, who not long before had been lobbying for the destruction of Mathiel, stood in her way. He was in the center of the hallway, blocking her passage. He scowled at her, his arms crossed and his manner dripping in derision. He welcomed her return with his acid tongue.

“At last you return.”

Luriel stood her ground, unsure of how to respond. What did he know, or more importantly, think he knew?

“Did you tire of the company of the fiend? Decide at last to rejoin us in time for the attack?”

“Please, Gavriel, you do not understand. What are you implying?”

Gavriel approached her, his anger growing.

“I do understand. I understand your loyalties are not as certain as they should be. You should have returned hours ago. Instead, you spend time in the company of a murderer and enemy of the church. You block the efforts of your own brethren to bring said black-hearted rebel to the arms of justice. I say to you this: what is wrong within you?”

Luriel’s jaw set firmly. How dare he!

“Gavriel, I have a mission to perform. Despite the tragic loss of Adolphus, I still have to try to make our mission a success. To do that, I have to keep the doors of communication and negotiation open with Thagiel. If that bothers you, I do not care. I will do my duty. I suggest you do your own.”

Pushing past him she walked up the stairs. She could feel his eyes, burning with anger, drilling into her back. Ignoring the sensation, she left him behind and entered her Fellowship’s chamber.

Mathiel was awake, and sitting up in bed. Rythe was sitting at his side, and the two were talking softly. Cassiel stood in the corner, arms crossed, and the look he greeted Luriel with let her know he had not forgiven her.

“Hello, my friends. I have returned.”

Rythe greeted her, and Mathiel (his face still seemed so weak and listless) turned to smile at her. She could see the questions in their faces. Even Cassiel, his anger still present, wanted to know what she had learned from the rebel. Was war upon them? Had Adolphus been cast to his death by a murdering Engel?

She tried to restore order to their world. Sitting beside Mathiel, Luriel started to tell them what had happened. She told them (Mathiel’s eyes tearing at her words) that Thagiel had not killed Adolphus, that it was complicated, but he had not thrown the poor teacher from his tower. Thagiel was not their enemy.

Cassiel did not accept this. He excused himself, and slammed the repaired wooden door behind him. Letting him go, Luriel continued to tell Mathiel of all that had happened while he had been lost in his fever sleep.

She spoke of the darkness beneath Vant that had claimed him, invading him like the chill of first winter. She spoke of the Raphaelite who had wanted him destroyed. And, to his shock, she told him she had found a cure through strange means. He had at first been just startled at the knowledge she had saved him by finding a one-of-a-kind cure, but then the look on his face changed to the semblance of loyalty and thanks.

“You… <cough> saved me. You brought me back from the darkness.”

Now it was Luriel’s turn to have tears. Rythe stood behind her, his heart proud to serve beside such glorious Engel as these. Luriel held Mathiel’s hand, holding fast to the returning warmth she felt in his fingers.

“You brought me back from the pain. It was awful… <cough> I felt myself becoming lost.”

She did not tell them of how she had cured him. She still could not bring herself to admit her heresy. Mathiel was saddened as he considered the loss of Adolphus, but he reassured Luriel of her choices and actions.

“You did the right thing. Adolphus would have wanted you to do exactly what you did. You may not think that now, but know that he put much faith in your strength.”

Luriel nodded, and turned away. She had to resolve matters with Cassiel. Now. She could not delay. Telling the others she would return shortly, she set out to find him.

He was on the roof of the hospital. He stood facing the black storm clouds as they blanketed the city in darkness. Rain flooded down, though he seemed to ignore the wind and wet. She called out to him, but he did not respond.

“Cassiel! I’m sorry!”

At this, he turned.

“You are sorry? Have you gone mad?! That… that thing… in that tower…”

His face was twisted in repugnance. She had to make him understand that Thagiel was not their enemy!

“Listen to me, Cassiel. Let me try to expla-”

Her words broke off as Thagiel spoke in her mind with great force. He told her that her Fellowship was requested at the palace. Immediately.

Cassiel approached her, worried over her sudden change. To his eyes she appeared to have suffered a sudden pain in her head. His anger was forgotten (for the moment) and concern for her wellbeing eclipsed any other emotion.

“Are you alright?”

Holding her arms, he looked at her with worry. Without realizing what it would mean, she answered his question.

“I’m fine. It was Thagiel. He told me that our presence is requested.”

She then realized how bad it was to let Cassiel know that Thagiel spoke into her mind.

“Our presence is requested at the palace by Viktor Constance.”

Luriel was right. This was not a good thing for Cassiel to hear.

“How could you let that thing into your head? What is wrong with you! You are becoming as twisted as he is!”

Cassiel’s grip on her arms was growing painful, it’s vice grip unforgiving. Luriel struggled to release herself from his hold, but he would not relent. He screamed at her with all the anger and frustration he had demonstrated before in the tower!

“So be it! You are nothing but a traitor and a heretic! You are unclean!”

His eyes blazed with fury and her arms burned in pain. She felt an invisible blade slice her cheek and she screamed out at him to stop. Somehow she broke his grip and threw him to the ground.

He had wounded her, cutting her face along her right cheek! She felt warm blood flow down her face and onto her robe. He had lashed out at her with his healing power.

She turned to him, and found him crying. He begged her for forgiveness.

“I did not… I did not mean to do that to you. I… oh… Adolphus”

She held him, shushing his apologies. This was hard for him. Hard for them all.

“I know Cassiel. I know. It is not your fault. You must release your anger and breathe. It is over now.”

He held her tightly, and still sobbing, he put his hands on her bleeding face. The wound was deep, as if someone had take a sharp knife and sliced into her soft cheek. His eyes pools of sorrow, he tried to heal what he had done.

Pulling his hands away, the wound was healed but for a long thin scar. She would carry the scar until the day she died. It would not be her last.

Giving him a moment to collect himself, Luriel told him what Thagiel had said.

“Adolphus used a kind of verbal weapon on him. I don’t know what it meant, but by saying the word, Adolphus guaranteed that Thagiel would be unable to raise a finger or wing to save him.”

Cassiel stood up, looked at the last of Luriel’s blood washing form his hands, and told her what was in his heart.

“You are so much stronger than the rest of us. Do you realize? You are our Michaelite. You have proven you can lead us.”

Luriel shook her head, and tried to stop him, but he would not quit.

“You are our Gabrielite. You carry that sword in flame and battle, and fight as bravely as any warrior.”

She turned away. It was a sin for her to carry Kyriel’s sword. She was no Gabrielite. What she was doing with it was forbidden! Her action was not worthy of praise.

“You are our Raphaelite. You healed Mathiel when he was all but dead. My own Order was ready to cast him into the fire and forget his worth. You, instead, come from the unknown with a cure in hand. He lives because of you!”

She couldn’t bear this praise. She was no hero. She had transpired with dark forces, enemies of the church. Was that not wrong?

“And you are our Urielite. You fly so bravely into the unmapped reaches. Sometimes, I watch you and wish I was so fearless. Nothing can stop you. You never tire.”

“Cassiel, you are wrong. I have made mistakes. I have committed wrongs. I have done what I thought was right, but often I think now those things were wrong. I have ignored teachings and proscriptions as it suited me. If anything, you should revile me as a false leader who led you and the others into danger and darkness. I learned today that our mission is a lost thing. Thagiel never even had what we came here to get!”

Cassiel did not flinch. He looked at the leader of his Fellowship with admiration and newly tested loyalty. He had lashed out at her, wounded her and set her blood to flowing. Now the test was over. He would follow her without question.

“All is not lost. We still walk beneath the clouds and fly where the sun still shines. Let us go and see Viktor Constance in his court and be Engel united strong and together!”

Luriel went inside with him. His words resonated within her heart. Perhaps it did not matter whether some ineffable mission succeeded or failed. The whim of the Lords of the Church was not all.

Perhaps what mattered was whether they stayed true to one another. And, she decided, nothing would change that.

[SotDX]

Luriel stood before the Ab of the Hospital, Em Sarah, awaiting her response. She had informed the Ab that her Fellowship had been summoned to the palace. The threat of war was very possible. Luriel laid the facts of the situation before the senior Church representative, awaiting her decision on how to proceed.

Sarah contemplated their plight. Even if Viktor had ordered his guardsmen outside to protect her hospital from an angry mob, it meant the people’s sentiment was turning against them. She had long ago come to terms with living in a land hostile to the Church, but her Order of healers were often accepted where other Engeltics would not be tolerated. All in need of healing were welcome within her halls.

Something was brewing outside. Adolphus’s death at Thagiel’s hands should not have led so many to jump to the ready prospect of war. Her instincts told her something else was going on. Perhaps someone (Viktor?) was stoking the fire outside for their own purposes. It mattered not. The Ab knew someone had to go before Viktor and deal with the fallout of Adolphus’s death.

“Luriel, I have decided you and your Fellowship should go to the palace and treat with the Satrap. You have my authority to speak with him on the matters of your own concern. I will add, though, that if a question is raised that has weight upon my hospital you will yield Viktor to my voice. If he wants our presence absented from his city, he will need to say such to my face.”

Luriel nodded, swallowing. She hoped such would not be the case. Constance seemed a wise and fair ruler for a heretic Diadoche.

“I will represent both my order and the Holy Church to the best of my ability. I will not fail you, Em Sarah.”

Luriel exited, leaving the worried Ab seated behind her desk. Yes, Sarah considered, it was not impossible that someone was encouraging anti-Church sentiments. Not impossible at all. The more important question was who, and how far would they go?

With still weak Mathiel left behind resting, Luriel and her Fellowship set forth into the city. It was decided flight would be dangerous, as several Engel flying over the city with the populace already charged would intensify the paranoia. Two guardsmen awaited them at the gate of the hospital with orders from Viktor to lead them safely to the palace.

Cassiel and Luriel hid their wings under cloaks, cowls up to hide their obvious markings. Rythe also wore a cloak, but not to obscure his non-existent wings. He wore beneath the covering his distinctive Templar armor. The group headed forth into the violent throng of rioters and confusion.

Rain pelted down on them from above, the sky black and ugly. A cold wet wind whipped through the streets and avenues of the city, lightning flashing and illuminating the faces of those who feared for their lives. Luriel was cold and afraid. How could her kind have been originally called forth to earth to fight people such as these? If she but cast off her cloak, they would surely set upon her. She was their enemy. Did it have to be so?

Worse were the things the Fellowship overheard from the crowds. Passing quietly by a group talking amongst themselves, they overheard the gossip of what the people of the city were saying happened between Adolphus and Thagiel.

“The way I heard it, the old devil came to try and put the sharp end to our protector. This Dolfus tried to kill Thagiel, but the good Engel was too much for the old trudge. It was all self-defense, not matter what the Churchies say.”

Luriel was aghast. She wanted to stop them, correct them!

“Nah, I heard it like this. This Dollus folken, he was not what he seemed. Some kind of killer in old trudges clothes. Any-ways, the two did fight a good set, and our boy won. I’ve got it on strong authority that Thagiel made it back to his tower but just, badly wounded, and that he healed himself by the power of the storm.”

It made Luriel want to fly up and proclaim the truth from the highest walls. These fools were spinning false stories.

“Das geht mir am Arsch vorbei! They are saying the Church is building up its armies. The Templars and what will be here before you now it. War is upon us. Zum Donnerwetter, war is here!”

She would not reveal herself. The courtyard was filled with people milling about. Biting back her frustration, she pushed on, the Austrian Palace Guard parting the crowd ahead of them. In the distance she heard hoof beats on the stone road. Had Viktor come halfway to reach them?

The carriage that approached was definitely that of a powerful individual, made of elegant wood and decorated with intricate patterns. The two white steeds pulling it were beautiful beasts to behold, and the vehicle truly a work of art. Looking inside, Luriel made eye contact with the rider within. Isabella!

Turning away, Luriel continued on. She hoped the Comtessa had not recognized her in the instant she had looked her way. The woman was dangerous, one of the most flagrant enemies of the church. Please let her drive on and leave them be.

At the sound of Isabella’s twin boots setting down on the road Luriel knew her prayer had not been answered. Turning around, Luriel met Isabella face to face. The Comtessa of Andalusia, Diadoche of Cordova, stood before her, clad in her strange shiny black armor and imperial cape.

“Greetings Luriel. I must admit, I did not recognize you at first, and almost missed your passing here in the street. It would not be proper for you to be ignored in such a crude manner.”

Luriel nodded, trying to decide the best course of action. Cassiel and Rythe were behind her, and Viktor’s guardsmen were trying to backtrack to their position. They had only now realized those they were escorting had stopped.

“I thank you for your kindness, Lady Isabella. Still, I am afraid we must go. We are expected at the palace and would not wish to keep Satrap Constance waiting.”

Luriel started to turn away, but Isabella spoke again.

“Yes, yes, I see. But wait, I must ask! Why do you go among the faithless so hidden? Are you not ENGEL OF THE LORD? Should you not REVEAL YOURSELVES?!”

Isabella had drawn the attention of much of the crowd. Luriel started to back away, the situation worsening. She and Cassiel could fly out of here (upset crowds be damned), but Rythe had no such luxury. Perhaps she could carry him if it came to that. Turning from Isabella, she started to walk away. Maybe if they walked away from her…

Unfortunately, Isabella was not pleased by the affront of those she spoke to rudely turning away from her. Reaching out, she seized Luriel’s obscuring robe and ripped it away, revealing the Engel’s wings and scriptum to the watching throng.

“Look here, friends and fellow free peoples! The weapon of the enemy stands here among you!”

Luriel’s wings revealed, the crowd’s mood darkened. Angry shouts were raised, and the mob began to encircle the Engel. Isabella faded back into the crowd, a pleased smirk on her face. Rythe and Luriel reached for their weapons, the palace guard trapped outside the closing circle, unable to reach the three at its center.

“Wait!”

Cassiel stood before the mob, threw off his cloak, and raised his empty hands.

“You do not have to fear us! We are not your enemy! We are the messengers of God, protectors of all mankind. Please, do not be afraid!”

Cassiel looked around with his face of innocence and child-like faith. At least one or two of the faces he stared into softened, the anger and fear in it fading. Sadly, the majority did not change. Rocks and other items flew toward him. The situation had become too dangerous to risk another moment there on the ground.

“Cassiel, grab Rythe and follow me!”

Luriel and Cassiel (holding an upset Rythe in his arms) flew into the sky. Looking over her shoulder, Luriel watched the mob below descend into complete chaos. Isabella’s carriage rolled away slowly in the distance. Anger filled Luriel at the sight of the vehicle. How dare that woman cause such an incident. She could have brought about their deaths. The palace guard left below were struggling to calm the riot, but there was no guarantee they would make their way out of it with their lives.

Silently cursing Isabella, Luriel pondered the unrest in the city. Had Isabella been spreading false rumors? Was the Comtessa trying to drive Vienna to war with the Church?

Landing at the palace, the two Engel and one Templar were relieved to be out of the air. The risk of being seen as attackers by some gun-wielding guard notwithstanding, the strong winds made flight difficult. The storm had not lessened in intensity, instead seeming to surge ever onward. The three were admitted into the inner chambers of the palace, and they were asked to wait until Viktor was ready to see them. Towels were provided for them to dry themselves.

Waiting outside Constance’s chamber, Luriel overheard something more worrisome than the false rumors being spoken in the city streets. Within Viktor’s chambers a man was speaking with an educated voice. Whoever the advisor was, his advice chilled Luriel’s blood.

“Lord Viktor, I see no other option. If you want to quell the violence brewing out there you have but one choice. You must make a demonstration of your power. Seize one of the little Engel here from Prague and crucify it to the city walls. It is the only way.”

[SotDX]

Luriel could not believe what she was hearing. She leaned around the door and glanced in, trying to see what was happening within Viktor’s chamber. Who could suggest such a monstrous act?

Thagiel was standing behind Viktor, and his face was tensed and displeased. Viktor on the other hand was contemplative, as if he was considering the barbaric advice he had been given. Luriel was still unable to see who was had suggested the tactic.

Behind her Luriel could hear Cassiel and Rythe speaking softly. Cassiel was upset, and Rythe seemed to be trying to explain something to him. Ignoring their voices to focus on what was happening within the chamber, she leaned in closer.

“I do thank you for your counsel, but I will not act in such a violent way without provocation. It is one of their number that lay dead on our lands, and we shall not worsen the situation by acting in such a manner. Good day to you. Leave me now, for I must speak with the delegation from Prague.”

The figure turned and stalked away, clearly unhappy at being dismissed.

“I respect your decision, Lord Constance, but I do give you a warning; when darkness falls and the chaos follows remember you chose not to heed my words. It will be too late then, but I fear when next we meet you will have learned to regret your choice.”

Viktor nodded, and motioned for the man to leave. As he exited the throne room, Luriel finally was able to get a look at him and recognized him. He was Lucius Hawthorne, the man she had encountered at the arena combat in the Undercity. She had seen him to be a foul creature, something awful lurking within him. He nodded to her, recognizing her as well, and headed on. She considered trying to stop him, trying to explain to the Satrap that the man was some kind of “thing”, but decided it was pointless. He was gone, and he seemed to be a respected member of court, if not a beast.

Luriel turned to Rythe and Cassiel to see what they had been arguing over. Rythe explained that after they had landed, Cassiel had expressed frustration and upset that he was unable to reach the crowd and that they had started throwing things and turning violent. He did not understand why the people were so terribly afraid of them and mistrusted them so. Rythe had tried to explain to Cassiel that there had been a time when Engel were warriors of the Church against any who were heretics.

The same thoughts had been in her mind as they had walked through the streets of Vienna. Cassiel, though, did not believe that Engel were ever called to fight normal men. The enemy that had brought the Engel to Earth in the great sending was surely that of the Lord of the Flies.

“No, Cassiel, Rythe is right. There was as time when no Dreamseed flew over the earth, and yet Engel were here. The first Crusade was declared not against the Dreamseed, but against the nonbelievers and the heretics. These people remember those times. Perhaps they remember them too well, but without a doubt the past serves as a wall between us.”

They would have spoken more, but the doors behind them were opened, and the Fellowship was summoned into the receiving chamber. Viktor stood to greet them, and Thagiel nodded to them. Cassiel tensed at the sight of Thagiel, but Thagiel merely returned his gaze with no obvious sign of anger or resentment. Luriel patted the Raphaelite’s shoulder to calm him.

The chamber had been emptied of all but Satrap Constance, Thagiel, and Viktor’s intended wife Elizabetha. There were no guards present, no generals, and no advisors. Viktor sat back down, and began to speak.

“I am pleased you have come once more to my chambers as friends. As you are aware, a threat has arisen because of what has happened here in our city. I believe you knew even before I did that your friend and ambassador Adolphus’s life has ended.”

What did he mean that “you knew even before I”? Luriel looked at Thagiel, wondering if he had told Viktor of her vision through his eyes? Did he share such things with the Satrap? It worried her. She wanted her secrets to stay her own.

“I think you believe as I do; Adolphus died from a tragic accident. It was not intended, and it was unavoidable. We grieve for his loss and wish it was not so, but it has happened and we must live in the shadow of its consequence. Do you believe it to be so?”

Luriel nodded. She did not in her heart blame Thagiel or Vienna for Adolphus’s death. It was madness to lay the crime at their door. Adolphus had died of a tragedy, but the crime was more complex than could be blamed on any one living soul.

Looking at the two, Viktor and Thagiel, it occurred to Luriel that their ages were almost the same. Perhaps the two could have been brothers if both had been borne of mortal woman. Ian had said that Karl Constance had almost been a father to Thagiel. Did that make these two as close as brothers? Somehow she sensed that they had once been that close, but the years had made Thagiel distant to all. Only she was close to him now, and for that privilege she had been exposed to his world.

Luriel looked away from Thagiel, and her eyes caught sight of familiar items. On a table to the side of the room lay the strange goggles and one of the weapons she had been confronted with in the Undercity in Callus’s lair. How had they come to be here? Viktor noticed her looking at them, and confronted her.

“I must ask; why did you disobey my request? I gave you free access to our city with but a single condition: a ready escort. Yet you chose to disregard my request and go into the Undercity on your own and risk death or worse. Yes, I know of your adventure and what almost happened to you at the hands of the freak Callus. Imagine what the unrest here on the surface would have been if you had died down there as well?”

Luriel nodded and swallowed. Viktor was clearly angry, and he was correct. She had been nearly killed in the darkness below, and if that had happened, the possibility of war would have been all the more certain.

“I… I apologize for my actions. I had just cause, Lord Constance. Please forgive my trespass…”

Cassiel and Rythe both looked at her. They had not known how close to death she had come. She could not meet their worried gazes.

Viktor nodded, and revealed how much he knew of her cause.

“Yes, I know of what you sought there in the darkness. And I have understanding that you found it. I do not blame you for your actions considering the gravity of their cause. I am pleased you found a means to save your fellow. Still, I must ask you to not disobey my requests a second time.”

Luriel wondered if it had been Ian or Thagiel who had told Viktor? Perhaps both? Still, he did not seem angry, or at least accepted the reason for her actions.

“But other matters must wait. As you know, war is close. We must move carefully at present.”

Luriel nodded, agreeing. She told him of the rumors she had heard in the street, of the divergent tales laying the blame for Adolphus’s death at the hands of the church in their attempt at assassinating Thagiel. She also told him of Isabella’s actions in the courtyard, what danger she had placed them in, and of her suspicions that Isabella was behind the rumors that were driving the city to a frenzy.

Viktor saw this as very possible. He did not approve of Isabella’s actions, but he understood her motives.

“You have to understand what she wants; she is a powerful ally, but she is not our neighbor. The Ramielite lands to the north are what we must contend with. If she can lead us to war, then her wishes are served. We will have no choice but to listen to her ideas of a united front against the Church.”

Luriel had to try to stop what was happening. She had to make the Satrap listen.

“Viktor, please, listen to me. We do not want war. The Ab of the Hospital, Em Sarah, she does not want war. If I could have my wish, I would see your people and the Church join together as one against the common enemy we all have to fear. I do not agree with the hatred against you, the distrust of your heretic weapons or forbidden technology. I see what you have built here and I marvel at it. Perhaps if we but banded together against the foe who threatens us all, we could end the endless progress of fire and smoke that destroys our world!”

Viktor was about to respond, and seemed clearly moved by her impassioned plea. His words were silenced though as the lights in the room flickered and there was a terrible rumble of an enormous explosion. Viktor stood up, clearly concerned. His fiancé turned to him and asked him what had happened. He told her he did not know.

The doors to chamber opened and Lucas, one of Viktor’s chief aids, came inside with news.

“Lord Constance, one of the generators in the inner city has exploded. Lightning struck it and caused it to blow, damaging a nearby generator and causing a massive fire. The rain is slowing its expansion, but several blocks were devastated in the blast.”

Viktor sighed. So many lives lost. There were safeguards against this happening. Had there been sabotage?

“Worse still, sir, is we have reports that the Comtessa’s carriage was in the area when the generator exploded. The second one may go at any time, and our workers are slowly trying to reach the scene to help survivors. It is a black day for our city.”

Luriel knew then what she had to do. She wanted to repair the rift between the people of the city and her kind. If she could save Isabella and help the other wounded and demonstrate that the Fellowship was not a threat to the city of Vienna perhaps something could be salvaged from this nightmare.

“Viktor, I humbly ask you allow Cassiel and I to help those we can in the site of the disaster. We shall search out Isabella and any others we can find in the rubble and take them to the hospital. Please let us do this for your people.”

The Satrap only considered for a moment, and then gave his agreement. From behind him came another voice.

“I will go as well. This is my city, and I will help save its children.”

All turned to Thagiel in surprise at the sound of his voice. Viktor nodded.

“It is well that both our Engel and the Engel of the Church should together save the people of the city. Go and do this before their eyes, and perhaps the hatred that obscures their vision will fade.”

If Cassiel was uneasy in working with Thagiel, he said nothing of it. The three Engel set forth to fly into the devastation of the explosion, forcing their way through the rain and high winds. Rythe stayed behind, trying to find a way to help those in need himself.

So it was the rebel Engel flew with a Fellowship, if only for one last time.

[SotDX]

Luriel was seated in a private chamber in the hospital. The woman lying on a cot next to her was bandaged about the head and arm. It was quiet and cold in the chamber. Luriel leaned back in the chair, the words of a dying man she had but hours before carried still in her mind.

The door opened to the chamber, and Luriel stood up in alarm. She had asked the Templar guard to allow no one in. Few in the hospital knew who the bandaged woman was, and Luriel wanted it kept that way for the time being. At the door stood Mathiel, leaning on a wooden cane. He hobbled in, still weak.

“Luriel, I found you. Cassiel told me you were in this wing somewhere. What are you up to in here in the dark?”

Luriel sighed, and motioned for her friend to sit down. He was up on his feet, but it was clear he was still very weak and movement was difficult. Mathiel had been the strongest of them, able to fly the farthest and the fastest. It pained her to see him so lame, even if he was mending.

“There are a great many things that have happened, Mathiel. Let me begin with this woman behind me. Do you know who she is?”

Mathiel squinted at the unconscious bandaged figure, and shook his head.

“I see. Mathiel, this is one of the most dangerous women in all of Europe. She is a sworn enemy of the church, and has single-handedly ordered many of our members be subjected to torture or worse. This is the Comtessa Isabella.”

Mathiel was stunned. One of the most powerful Junklords in all of Europe, and here she was unconsciousness and defenseless in the care of the Raphaelites!

“Is she our prisoner then?”

“No. Most certainly not. There was an awful explosion in the city. Isabella was caught in the blast and nearly killed. As a show of confederacy between Vienna and our Fellowship we searched the wreckage for her, and for other survivors. This night we have made many trips back and forth between the devastation and the hospital. I am weary, as is Cassiel… and Thagiel.”

Mathiel nodded. He had seen the flurry of activity as the injured had been brought in, but he had not known what had happened to bring so many to the place of healing.

Luriel told Mathiel of the awful sight she had seen in the wreckage. Several city blocks had been leveled, rubble all that remained of the previous edifices. Many were dead, bodies strewn about everywhere. The white horses of Isabella’s carriage had been killed, run through with metal debris. Her guards found dead, thrown from the carriage. The vehicle itself had been flipped several times in the blast.

“Isabella was in the wreckage of her carriage when we found it. Thagiel was able to rip the ruin open without harming her, and Cassiel healed her enough for her to survive the flight here. It took all my power of argument, but I convinced Gavriel to save her.”

She had told Gavriel the truth; if Isabella died within their walls there would be no end to the escalation. No matter what efforts they might have expended to save her, if she died it would be the fault of the church and thus intentional. He had seen reason, if just barely.

Luriel told Mathiel of the old man who had died in her arms as she had neared the hospital. He had looked up at her face, touching her with his bloody hands, and told her she was an Angel.

“We touched the people of this city tonight. I do not know if it is enough to stem the tides of hate and fear that have of late seized their hearts, but I hope and pray some difference has been made.”

Mathiel leaned over Isabella and inspected her bandaged head. The woman breathed with difficulty, and looked to be in bad shape. This was not a good sign of her health considering she had already been worked on by one healing Engel.

“Will she live then?”

“Gavriel is not certain. He thinks if I had been a moment later returning with her she would have certainly died. She had a massive head wound. She may recover. She may not. I have yet to tell the Ab of all of this.”

Mathiel nodded, not surprised. This woman was a high enemy of the church. Many would refuse her aid or succor on that sole basis, letting her die being seen as the correct choice.

“Tell me more about what is happening out there? When you were in my room last, I don’t remember all this talk about angry mobs and an upset populace.”

Luriel told him of how Adolphus’s death was being interpreted, that the people expected a retaliation by the Church. She reminded him of what she had explained to Cassiel shortly before; the history of the Church and Engel did not sit well with heretics such as the people of Vienna. They had an inherent distrust in Engel for that very reason.

“But they trust Thagiel?”

“Thagiel has come to their aid as a protector, and turned his back on the church. I was worried of the Templars reaction when he landed with me carrying survivors of the blast. Luckily they could not clearly see that he was the great renegade in the dim light. They almost attacked me once before thinking I was Thagiel myself.”

Mathiel nodded, and rubbed at his sore neck. The wound had faded, but the place was still sensitive and throbbed at times.

“I must admit I find it odd that the Church does not tell us of the times when we Engel were used as weapons against man. I must confess before you told me of the origins of the First Crusade, I was under the impression we had always been called to fight the Dreamseed and not humanity.”

Luriel nodded. It was something that disturbed her as well. As a Ramielite, she had access to much of the written history of the world, but even she had been denied access to certain histories. She considered how best to reply when her concentration was shattered with Thagiel’s mental voice. He had left the hospital when the last of the survivors had been brought.

“Luriel, the situation across the city has not improved. Despite our efforts, the unrest grows. New rumors are being spread. Viktor’s agents have confirmed someone is still spreading dangerous suggestions. It is now known throughout the city that Isabella is in the hospital in the care of the Church. It is being said she is a prisoner, and you are threatening her life if Viktor does not capitulate. Viktor is going to send soldiers to the monastery to try and quell the mob.”

She listened, but fear stole her heart. The madness outside was growing worse. The storm had not lessened, and now terrible winds and sheets of rain pummeled the city. How could things get worse? When the Templars inside saw approaching troops (whatever their true intent) things were likely to explode.

“Worse still, Luriel, is my belief that there is some presence in your hospital that is serving as eyes to our phantom enemy. Do not trust anyone there.”

Luriel stood up, shaking her head. She had to tell the Ab. It was not right that the rabble outside knew who their patient was before Em Sarah did. Still, it could not be helped. She had to warn the Ab of what was coming, and prepare her for the confrontation expected outside the walls between guardsmen and rioters.

“Mathiel, I have to go and see the Ab. Please watch over Isabella and let nothing happen to her. It is critical she not die while under our protection.”

Mathiel grabbed her arm with a firm grip that belied his weakened appearance.

“I will not fail you. She may be a loathsome reminder of the darkest part of humanity, but she will come to no harm while I watch over her.”

Luriel left him with her, hurrying to see the Ab. She tried to formulate how best to explain her actions and what the situation was, but decided the bald truth would have to do. This was not time for careful dialogue and playful language.

The Ab was in her chamber, speaking to the head of the Templar guard for the hospital. Luriel entered her office and informed her of the gravity of what she had to relate.

“Well, Luriel, what is the situation? What has happened?”

The Templar guard exited the room, leaving the Engel and Em to speak alone. Luriel told the Ab of what Viktor had said and his neutral response to Adolphus’s death. She also told her of the continuing problem outside, of the explosion, and of the certain patient she had surreptitiously brought inside.

Em Sarah rose from her chair furious.

“How dare you bring such a creature here into my hospital without so much as consulting me? The other wounded I can accept, but Isabella of Cordova? Here? This is too much.”

The Em turned away, shaking her head.

“I am very disappointed in your actions. While I may very well have accepted this woman as a patient within my walls, that was a decision I and I alone should have been allowed to make. You have shown yourself to be headstrong and arrogant, Luriel of Jeramiel, and I am afraid I will have to inform Ab Abrogast of your behavior.”

Luriel nodded, swallowing her shame.

“Forgive me, Em Sarah. I only acted to stop from happening was has occurred irregardless. I did not want it perceived that we had captured Isabella. One thing has come of this; I was certain Isabella was the source of the unrest in the city. Someone is feeding the vile lies to the people and charging them up against us. Now we know it can not be Isabella, for while she lies unconscious in one of our beds the people outside somehow have learned she is here.”

The Em nodded, considering.

“I therefore think there must be a spy inside your hospital working with some other player in the city. Someone is manipulating events against the Church. Perhaps it is the techno element. I do not know. But it must be stopped and soon, or the consequences will be-”

Luriel was cut off as she heard Mathiel shouting her name and calling for help. Turning from the chamber, she fled the room and hurried to Isabella’s room. She again heard him shout her name, and as she turned the corner found the door ajar.

The sounds of a struggle galvanized her run as she reached the room and hurried in. Before her was a confusing scene. A begine held a blade over the sleeping Comtessa, and Mathiel struggled trying to hold the woman back. He was weak, but still strong enough to hold her knife-wielding arm away from the defenseless Diadoche.

Charging in on blind instinct, Luriel seized the begine from behind and pulled her back. The Raphaelite priestess turned her head and glared at Luriel. Instead of normal eyes, she had serpentine slits, and a long forked tongue that undulated before the Engel’s face. The eyes opened and closed rhythmically as the tongue danced before her. She felt the strength vanishing from her arms and a numbness flooding her limbs.

It was the shouts of Isabella which broke the hypnotized state. Only in those moments had the Comtessa awoke to find two Engel and a begine wielding a sharp knife inches from her body. She screamed for help and guards and struggled to get out of her bed.

With renewed willpower, Luriel struggled back against the would-be assassin. Realizing that the Engel could not be subdued with tricks of mind, the stronger than human begine managed to shove both Engel aside and run towards the door. Sadly, it was this moment that Em Sarah entered wielding a blade of her own. The long knife of the assassin went into the Em almost by accident, and as the killer stepped back the Em fell down dead.

Mathiel leapt to his unsteady feet and managed to tackle the knife wielding murderer and bring her to the ground. She was still stronger than any normal human and he was weak, and she managed to close her free hand around his neck, choking him. Focused on her current prey, the fiend did not notice Luriel stand behind her.

Luriel swung her sword with great force and hit the tempted with the handguard of her weapon on the back of the head. With a satisfying crunch the slayer of Em Sarah fell to the ground beside a half-throttled Mathiel. Luriel kneeled beside the Em, hoping that there was still time to save the good woman.

Sadly, the blade had been poisoned, and neither Gavriel nor Cassiel could revive her. The Ab of the hospital had been slain.

[SotDX]

Luriel stood, wiping the few tears that had come from her face. Too many deaths. Too many good men and women died senselessly. Why had the Ab followed her and entered at just that moment? It was awful.

Isabella continued to shout for help, but she had given up on her attempts to rise. Her head was spinning, the pain unbearable. Mathiel simply sat in the floor, trying his best to catch his own breath. He panted and looked up at Luriel, meeting her sad eyes with his own sorrow.

“Sorry… I tried… to stop her myself. She was… so… strong.”

Luriel nodded to him. The Tempted seemed to possess great strength. This one was not dead yet, and she still had a purpose for it. Calling for Templar guards, she informed them to take the creature away and tie it up for her to interrogate. The hate in her voice worried Mathiel, but he said nothing. He had been away from Luriel for some time, and he began to realize then that there had been changes inside her. She was not the same innocent Ramielite he had known when they had started their journey south.

As the guards dragged the unconscious begine with the monstrous eyes away, Luriel approached the upset Comtessa. She began to scream again, and Luriel realized she still held her sword. Sheathing it, she pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed.

“Calm yourself, madam. You are in no danger.”

Isabella eyed the Engel with venomous eyes. This was some plot, some guise of the Church. They had kidnapped her and taken her away to some place to have her rot for the ages.

“Why have you brought me here? Do you not know who I am? This is an outrage!”

“Please, calm down. You are in no state to get so upset. Think back to the carriage. Do you remember the explosion?”

Isabella did remember something as she described… yes… there had been a great roar and her carriage had flipped over. Reaching up with her free hand, she felt the bandages around her head. Realization and remembrance dawned on her face.

“I do not understand, Engel. Why would you bring me here and save my life? I would think you would rather let me die there on the street.”

Luriel shook her head. Was there a reason that the world was filled with such hatred and mistrust? Did it have to be this way?

“Viktor asked us to help, and I offered as well. Isabella, the Engel sitting there and I both just risked our lives stopping an assassin from plunging a poisoned blade deep into your heart. A good woman just died in the struggle. Do you understand?”

Isabella calmed, visibly. Perhaps it was the pain she was in, but she did not reveal such. She was a strong hard woman who had seen no small share of suffering in her life. She would not show any agony.

“I see. So you have chosen to save my life and heal me. Again, I am surprised you fought so hard to save me?”

“Comtessa, if word got out that you had died here under our care open war would be inevitable. Someone wants that. I am going to question the thing that just tried to kill you and try my best to find out who is manipulating Vienna. But I want you to understand me; it serves us not in the least if you die here or come to any harm. More than that; I think it would serve to build a bridge between us if we brought you from the edge of death back into the world again. Do you agree?”

Isabella nodded as best she could.

“I know of your history, Comtessa. I know some of why you despise the church. I can not say I fully agree with our disregard for your father’s generous offer. It was not right to dismiss his munificence in such a harsh way.”

This seemed to strike a chord with Isabella.

“I see. You are well educated on your enemies, young Engel. Perhaps we do not have to be such enemies in the future, eh?”

Luriel nodded her head.

“I am curious. You are a Ramielite, one of the few gifted with the luxury of literacy. Do you know of my programs to educate the masses? Of my schools where children are taught the written word they are denied in Church lands?”

How should she respond? It seemed obvious Isabella was sizing her up. She knew from Ian that the woman wanted Thagiel to leave and become her “pet” Engel. Could she be considering trying to get her hooks in Luriel now?

“I… I think perhaps there is room for change within Church dogma. The world is an ever-changing place, and we must learn to see its fluctuation as a blessing.”

“I see. I do not think your Pontifex would agree, for is he not the antithesis of ‘ever-changing’? But I mean no offense, young Engel. Perhaps I should say my apologies and sympathies for the murder of Adolphus.”

Luriel flinched at the use of the word murder and at his name. Isabella saw her reaction, and knew she had Luriel.

“It was not a murder. It was an accident, you see… Thagiel did not… I mean…”

Quick in defense of Thagiel, using his name with such longing… Yes, Isabella now had a clear understanding of things Luriel would have rather kept unsaid.

Luriel was saved from continuing the verbal warfare with Isabella by the shouts of a guard outside. The guardsmen of the city were approaching and an alarm had been raised. Leaving Isabella’s side, Luriel helped Mathiel into a chair and went out to find the head of the Templar guard. She instructed him that two Templar were to be placed at the entrance of the Kietzerine’s room and that she was not to be moved or disturbed.

Alone, Luriel entered the chamber where the tempted had been placed. She had never interrogated someone before, but a beginner’s failure was not a possibility. Lives were at stake. Someone or something was spreading lies at the heart of the city, and her instincts told her that if it was not found soon all would suffer. The chamber was a storeroom filled with barrels and boxes. A single lantern hung suspended from the roof.

The begine was tied to a wooden chair, her head slumped down. It appeared someone had already expressed their fury upon her. She had been beaten about the face, blood running from cuts and bruises. Her nose was broken. She was still dressed as a woman of the holy Church, and yet the Templars had defiled her with their rage. Her anger grew and she shouted at the two standing guard beside her.

The men stepped back, uncertain of how to react. There was no denial possible, as their bruised knuckles clearly identified them as the perpetrators of the beating. Luriel approached the beaten begine, and was relieved to see she was still alive, if unconscious.

“I need her awake.”

One of the Templars picked up a bucket of water and splashed the cold liquid over the bound prisoner. The begine awoke coughing, and spat blood and teeth from her mouth. She opened her swollen lids and the reptilian eyes stared at Luriel. At the sight of her, the Tempted began to laugh throwing its head back despite its injuries.

One of the Templars stepped forward and hit the begine across the face. Luriel stepped forward and pulled the man back. The hit silenced the begine for a moment, as if it savored the violence, and then it smiled back at them.

Before this moment, Luriel had been certain that inside the woman an innocent begine might still be locked away waiting to be saved. Now, staring at the smile on the twisted form before her, the thoughts faded away. This being was as lost as Davrus had been. Thoughts of Hoffman chilled her skin.

“Speak to me, you loathsome abomination. Tell me why you tried to kill her.”

The light in the room dimmed, perhaps just a flickering of the candle. The begine turned her head from side to side in an inhuman gesture. The long forked tongue flicked out and in, and she began to speak. No great prompting was required. It was almost as if the creature reveled in speaking of its purpose.

“For many years my master has been waiting for the grant of permission. Long has he toiled here among the wormy masses, the low-born and the fools. He has suffered the whims of the fool Constance family and their meddling ‘rebel’ Engel. Now, at last, it has come. On leather wings the message was delivered.”

Luriel stepped closer, her fingers clenching into fists. The room grew colder, the light more dim.

“Do you not see? It was you who made the difference. Your visit to the dark heart of Vienna gave us what we needed! It was that which moved the Fear-Lord and gave us at last our boon!”

The Templars shifted nervously. Each felt their hearts racing and their skin prickling.

“The time has come for Vienna. We have at last been given the right to burn this city to the ground!”

The Tempted laughed but the sound was inhuman, deep and resounding as if it echoed through a tunnel before leaving her mouth. Luriel knew what the woman was speaking of as she said it. The servants of the Lord of the Flies were going to let loose an Inferno here in Vienna! She approached the Tempted and grabbed her to stop her laughing.

“Tell me where the Inferno will erupt. Tell me who your master is!”

The tongue flicked, and the eyes watched her without feeling.

“You don’t understand, do you? It has already started. It feeds on the fear in the city, the fear that has spiraled into a white hot blaze itself. A careful word here and there and we have the fuel needed to burn this cyst away from the earth forever. You certainly have done your part, Luriel. Yes, we know your name. There are many who do. Your trafficking with Thagiel and your indiscretions below where crucial to bringing this to pass. We thank you. And we are glad you will char with the rest of them.”

Luriel could not control her on anger. She hit the woman across the face, and as she began to laugh, hit her again harder. She screamed at the Tempted to tell her where it would begin as she choked her. The Templars pulled her off of the creature.

“This isn’t right, blessed Engel. You can’t let her pull you down as such.”

Luriel nodded, breathing heavily. Turning back, she saw the woman convulse and blood pour from eyes and mouth. Slumping forward, Luriel knew the Tempted would be dead before she approached.

“What was her name?”

With no answer to her question, Luriel turned to find herself alone. The Templars had left her with the dead Tempted. She understood, they were shaken by its claims of an imminent Inferno. Standing there alone, before the bloody body of a dead thing that had once been human, Luriel felt empty.

Had it been her fault? The creature claimed so. Somehow her actions had brought this to pass. Was it her working with Viktor? Had it been her visit to the Undercity? Was it the prophecy Thagiel had shared with her? One town had already died for that prophecy. Now a whole city was threatened.

And not matter how she looked at it, she was at fault. Somehow, she was to blame for the coming fire. Was it even possible to stop an Inferno? No one knew how they were created, and none had ever been stopped in known history. It was as inevitable and inescapable as a threat could be.

She started to turn and leave the room when she heard a mental voice enter her mind. Was it Thagiel? No. Instead the voice was the distant presence of Jaciel using her Order’s gift to send her a message.

She listened, hoping for his comfort and guidance. Instead, she heard him say he was to be purified on the morrow. The Ab had told him it was time and no more delay could be accepted. “Heaven awaits me. I shall, in turn, await you there.”

Luriel could not let it happen. All she could think was of Thagiel’s warning against letting her friend ascend. She used her own gift and sent a reply. She spoke to him of her fear and confusion, and that she needed him. She implored him not to allow himself to be purified. He must hold off the ritual as long as he could.

She heard his reply not long after, the concern in his voice clearly evident. She had sounded so desperate, so lost. He thought only of her, asking her what he could do to aid her. What did she need?

Behind her the carcass of the Tempted burst into red flame. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and Luriel kneeled down.

“Lord, I do not know if I am strong enough. Jaciel will be lost to me soon, the fire is coming, and I feel that I am the blame for the suffering of all to come. Tell me, what should I do?”

[SotDX]

The door to the chamber opened and Mathiel limped inside. He turned in disgust at the smell of the charred mess on the chair behind her, and helped Luriel to rise.

She looked into his eyes, and he saw the despair in hers. He smiled at her, and for a moment she felt his strength.

“It can not be that bad.”

“Oh, Mathiel… you have no idea of what is ahead. An Inferno is coming. The Tempted confirmed as much. They mean to bring a new Inferno into being here in the city itself.”

Mathiel whistled at the thought.

“Alright, perhaps it is that bad.”

Luriel was stunned, and then without being able to stop broke into laughter with him. He had lifted her spirits.

“It seems to me that we have only one course of action, oh Leader of our Fellowship.”

Luriel looked at him expectantly.

“And that is?”

“Well, it seems clear that our only choice is to stop it. No one has ever stopped an Inferno once it burns, but stopping it before it starts is another matter.”

He was right. If they could only find how they were creating it and stop the process, perhaps there was hope. She was wrong to despair. She hugged Mathiel strongly, bring a grunt of pain from him.

“Easy on me, now. I am still mending, or so Cassiel tells me. Where are you going?”

Luriel considered hiding the truth, but that time was far past.

“I am going to find Thagiel. He may be the only one who has an idea of how to stop them before the Inferno begins.”

Mathiel did not argue with her. He smiled his easy smile, and placed his free hand on her shoulder.

“I wish I could go with you. Cassiel wishes the same… or at least he would if he wasn’t unconscious from the strain of healing nearly fifty people tonight. You are on your own, but you are not. We are with you and beside you in your fight. Do not forget that.”

As Luriel flew into the night sky, she kept the memory of his words and strength close to her heart. Below her the city was in a state of madness. At some point the unrest and chaos had started feeding on itself, perpetuating riot and anarchy. It was all Viktor’s guardsmen could do to stop the destruction from tearing down the city itself.

Luriel landed on the platform of Thagiel’s tower, hoping to find him within. Quickly verifying that he was not there, she closed her eyes and called out to him. He answered, and told her he was at the palace. Something had been discovered, and he suggested she come. She in turn told him there were many things she had to tell him and Viktor. A new danger had exposed itself.

There was an odd sense of distortion in their communication, a feeling of disruption in their mental words. Both noted it, but thought little of it. Luriel walked to the edge of the platform, again preparing to fight her way through the high winds and rain. She worried about some of the city flooding if the water continued this deluge.

Before she stepped into the air her sight was filled with a horrible vision. She saw the Inferno erupting from the city ground, burning its way from beneath into the sky above. In her vision she saw armies of Dreamseed spiral around the growing brandland, descending from the skies as the city was consumed in hideous fire. It was too awful.

She closed her eyes, and the vision passed. Something about the vision struck her, though. Something missing from the image of the city. She looked around the tower, trying to sort the nagging thought from her mind. One thing was certain, the fire seemed to erupt from below the city into the skies above. Perhaps the Undercity was the answer.

Luriel leapt off the platform and flew toward the palace, her body still shaking from the violent image that had appeared before her. She knew with a cold certainty if they failed in stopping it that the future of the city was as a new brandland of the Lord of the Flies.

Landing at the palace, Luriel hurried to the Satrap’s chambers. She was allowed in without question, and found the room’s occupants had surrounded a table in the center of the room. All, including Thagiel, stared down intently at something laying there.

As she approached, the men spread out and Luriel was able to see what had drawn their attention. A dead Dreamseed, of the variety known as a Tainter-Dragonfly. Luriel heard the word of the Tempted: “On leather wings the message was delivered.”

Gunter, the General of Constance’s armies, informed Luriel of how the creature had come to be before them.

“This was shot leaving the city only a few hours before. We have seen no sign of others, but where there is one…”

Luriel nodded. This confirmed her worst fears. She asked them all to listen. Viktor, Gunter, Lucas, Thagiel and all gathered in the room turned and gave her their attention. She told them everything the assassin has said to her, leaving no word out. She told them she understood this to mean the servants of the Lord of the Flies here in the city were preparing to unleash an Inferno. And she told them of her vision… of the fire reaching as high as the sky.

The room’s mood darkened, but there were no skeptics. Viktor himself answered any such doubt with his words.

“I believe you. We must act, and act quickly.”

Luriel pondered for a moment if her own superiors would believe her so readily. All in the room were shocked and dismayed with this terrible news, but none as Thagiel. He looked lost at the thought of an Inferno here in Vienna. He stumbled, sat down on a chair absently, and looked into the distance.

Though she would never tell a soul, in that moment Luriel wanted nothing more than to take him and fly away from the cursed city. That would not happen, though. She knew her duty, as did Thagiel.

She approached him, kneeling beside him. A despairing voice gnawed at her insides, declaring that she had come to him for support and here he crumbled. What now? She pushed its complaints away.

Thagiel did not look at her, and spoke barely above a whisper.

“My time of death is very soon. Still, I did not want it to be in an Inferno.”

Luriel blinked back tears. She had to reach him.

“Thagiel, we need you. I need you! You can not give in to despair. We need your help.”

She looked over her shoulder, and saw Viktor looking at them and turning away. She could sense his feeling of helplessness as well. No one knew how Infernos were created. Where should they even start? The only one who might know was lost to them, trapped in himself. There was only one thing left to try.

“Leif.”

The word was a whisper, but it felt like a thunderclap. His eyes opened, he breathed in sharply, and Thagiel (the Golden Engel) stood up.

“My name is Leif. He knew my name!”

He stepped away for a moment, putting his hands to his face as if brushing something aside. Luriel sat, hoping she had done the right thing.

He turned around, looked down at her, and nodded.

“Yes, for some time I have felt something wrong in the city. I did not know what it was. A slow rot creeping in, perhaps an infestation of something untoward. Now I know. That Dreamseed brought something here that they needed to birth the burning blasphemy. It is clear to me now. The ritual they must perform needs something material that it brought. And they need the fuel from the fear here in the city. And they have been allowed to do this because of what the prophecy means to them.”

He lifted Luriel up, his eyes filled with intensity and vigor.

She could not believe it was all about her, but if that was the case, perhaps there was a simple solution to their problem.

“What if I leave Vienna? If I go then will they not stop?”

Thagiel shook his head.

“It has gone on to far now. If we do not stop them, a new Inferno will be born.”

Luriel held onto him, and he responded to her tenderness with an arm around her.

“Viktor, we have to stop this madness. We need to know where it will begin. Luriel’s vision seems clear that it will begin below the city in the Undercity. Has your watch heard or seen anything that might aid us?”

As Viktor consulted with his advisors, Luriel remembered what she had not told the room as of yet.

“Wait, this may help. I think I may know who is part of this. I told you all how the eyes and tongue of the tempted appeared. Once before in Vienna I saw a man who appeared the same way to me, but only for a moment. He was in the Undercity.”

The room waited for her to finish.

“Lucius Hawthorne.”

The room turned into an uproar, some arguing that such a claim was preposterous. Thagiel seemed convinced at once. Viktor paused, considered the possibility, and silenced the room.

“It is hard for me to believe the Seat of Elshreck, long friend to my family, could be the source of this outrage. But, I do not doubt you, Luriel of the Ramielite Order. I take your wisdom as my gospel, and your guidance as my light.”

He turned to his men and gave orders.

“Have Hawthorne’s home searched at once. And summon Ian Longwalke. We have need of him, for we are to go in search of darkness in the Undercity this night. Bring my weapons, for the time has come for me to defend my city.”

Luriel stepped back, watching the activity and the flutter. Soon they would be setting off into the Undercity in search of Hawthorne (if he was down there). She still felt something from her vision had been missed, but other than nagging at her she could find no understanding in the feeling.

Closing her eyes, Luriel sent her reply back to Jaciel. If the end was to come, she wanted him to know what had happened and what she faced.

“Jaciel

Things have not gone well. Two of my fellowship fell on the way here and one is still recovering from injuries. And then there is Aldolphos…

I could greatly use your help, but I do not know if you can get here before the Inferno erupts in Vienna. I know it is coming, I have seen it in visions, and a bold servant of the Fear Lord has said as much. I am daring to do something no Engel has succeeded at, stop an Inferno before it starts. I have reason to believe that there is a ritual that must be stopped.

Already though, the populace is terrified and angry, fanning the coming flames. The mere presence of my small fellowship has them thinking the Church is going to go to war with them even though we have been trying to work with the Satrap to alleviate their worries.
I must do this or die trying. I need you to tell me if you know of any information concerning the origins of the Infernos that might help.

Jaciel you have been a mentor for me as well as a friend. I have always thought of you as "brother" and I regret not being there as you go to your purification. I wish I could talk you out of it. You will be greatly missed and I look forward to the day we may be reunited. May God's blessings be with you, always.

Luriel”

[SotDX]

Here stands an Engel. She is alone, separated from her Fellowship by walls of piety and office. She holds in her mind the words of a dead prophet. She remembers the birth of fear and black science. She knows death stalks near. She is not afraid.

Beside her stands another Engel, but very different. He is old, and wise, and mighty! But fear devours the core of him. He also knows death stalks near, but with certainty he knows it comes for him. He will walk into death with wise eyes and a sad heart.

Together they would face what would come.


The waters of the Undercity were overflowing, the unending deluge across the city wreaking havoc with the drainage of flood waters. As they descended into the wet darkness beneath Vienna, hope of finding their goal was desperate.

Mazes existed below the city, deep labyrinths of ancient corridors and forgotten pathways. It would be an endless search for them and time was of the essence. An ill omen had already been felt.

Viktor was so certain of his plans to personally lead the expedition that no one could dissuade him, not his aides, and not even Ian. His last action before setting forth armed and armored was to ensure his family was as safe as possible. None would be safe if the fires screamed their birth cries, but he tried nonetheless. He was greeted with the worrisome news: none knew the locale of Elizabetha, his betrothed. She had gone missing!

As they descended into the deepening darkness, Ian scolded himself for not seeing the truth about Hawthorne sooner.

“It was right before me. If anyone in Viktor’s council was to be a Tempted, it would have to be Hawthorne! How could I miss it?”

Luriel comforted him as she could, but he refused her attempts. He blamed himself for not being more perceptive, for not sensing something evil about the man who now endangered everything he loved.

The group was small, but prepared. Five well armed Guardsmen with rifle and steely eyes followed their Satrap. Gunter also had come, the old warrior seeming pleased with the prospect of a battle. Viktor himself led them, clad in his plastic armor and twin silver pistols.

Rythe had joined them, much to Luriel’s relief, for Viktor had asked the Templar if he would help him fight back the spawn of the Tempter that threatened his people. Rythe, ever humble, had bowed and answered he would be honored. Luriel felt she had seen a glimpse into what made Constance such a great leader in the way he had inspired Rythe to help him.

Last, there was Thagiel and Luriel. She was worried about him. He seemed so vulnerable and lost as he walked beside her, the light in his eyes all but dark. She reached out and took his hand, a quiet gesture in the darkness as the guardsmen prepared two boats. She felt his hand squeeze hers.

The Undercity had become so flooded only the boats would allow them to continue. Still, it was madness. Even with the flooding, there were many bolt-holes and dark hidden places where enemies of the city could hide. Ian cursed loudly, considering the list, while Viktor stood firm and undisturbed. Laying his hand on his agent, Satrap Constance tried to comfort him.

“Think, Ian. There must be something you know about the tunnels below. Stories, rumors… legends?”

Ian considered as the boats set forth, gliding along the black water. The depth was unknowable, and detritus of the flooded Undercity drifted everywhere. Luriel wondered how many had died in the sudden rising of the waters. In such a place there would be little escape from its ascent.

“My Lord… there are a multitude of prospects. It sadly is not a matter of too few, but instead too many! A legend of snakes that fly, of dead that walk… even one of voices that sound in the dark luring men to sudden falls!”

He sighed, sitting down in a crouch. Luriel kneeled down beside him. The five guardsmen and Gunter were in the boat behind them, Luriel, Ian and the others together.

Before she could speak, though, she felt a voice in her head. It spoke only a few words, but they words of hope.

“I am coming. I am coming with Engel at my side. Be strong!”

Jaciel’s words were as the coming of light and warmth into the black cold where she now found herself. He was coming with others to help. Would he be soon enough to help stop what they all feared?

And then it happened. She was not trying to remember her vision of the Inferno seen atop Thagiel’s tower, but it came all the same. Except this time she watched the horror with new eyes. What she had missed before became clear. Her eyes widened in horror and she gasped at the revelation.

Ian asked her what was wrong. Thagiel merely nodded, as if he already knew.

“I’ve seen it! I know where the Inferno will begin…”

Rythe demanded to know while Viktor watched and waited.

“I didn’t realize before when I saw it rise above the city… something was missing. What I didn’t see was Thagiel’s tower. I didn’t see it before because the Inferno had overlaid it in my vision!”

It all made such terrible irony. Thagiel’s tower was the closest thing to a Himmel in the entire city, and to replace it with an Inferno…

Viktor shouted orders as the boats were turned. They now knew their course. The tunnels below the city ran directly under Thagiel’s tower in only one circuit, and the two boats and eleven brave souls set forth to find the entrance into that birthplace of evil.

[SotDX]

“Thagiel, is there anything more you can tell me about the creation of an Inferno?”

Luriel looked at him, the shattered creature that had once stood before her as a God among mortals. He had outshined other Engel, but now he was a faded memory of his former glory. Whatever he now felt inside had shrunken him.

The others watched as he closed his eyes and sat still. It reminded Luriel of her own Order’s gift to enter the Cathedral of Thought, the mental library of all collected knowledge (one that she was not intended to be able to enter yet, despite her recent explorations therein). Did Thagiel posses some faculty to enter such a place, or was he merely collecting himself? There was still so much she did not know about the lost order of the Raguelites.

Thagiel opened his eyes and spoke. He looked at no one, merely staring into the dark with unfocused eyes.

“Very little is known about the creation of Infernos. Men have watched them explode from the earth and fade back away, but none truly know their nature. I have read of a theory posited by a madman who chased the burning towers. He worshiped them.”

Ian swallowed. He had heard of the fanatics who followed the Infernos, approaching as close as possible, and much closer than was sane. Would anything such a man write be worth considering?

“His words speak of stones… Rayth stones. He believed these stones were needed to start a large Inferno that would live and move for years to come. Where they come from is unknown and unknowable, but it is whispered they might come from the darkest hearts of the Brandland. No matter, for their origins are not what concerns us. What can be done with them is our concern. It is said that the Rayth stone must drink of a sacrifice before the fire can grow from spark to flame.”

All listened and pondered. No one had heard of these stones, but the thought of a sacrifice beginning the Inferno seemed somehow appropriate. What number would die if the blaze came forth, one death starting the murder of many?

Thagiel seemed more drawn as he finished speaking, his body somehow old and frail. Luriel leaned close to him, warming his cold body with her own. He watched her, and with his unfocused eyes reminded her of what she must not forget.

“Never forget the words I have shared with you. They are your armor and defense against that which is to come. Never forget the prophecy. It is before you and behind you. It remains for you to make it true.”

At the other end of the boat Viktor and Ian argued. They were trying to understand why the Inferno would come now of all times. What made this time so important for the city to be attacked? They did not understand.

Luriel knew. She did not want to believe it, but she knew. The Tempted she had interrogated had told her the reason. There was no denying it. Luriel herself had brought the destruction down on the city. It was too horrible to think, but it was true.

The sound of splashing brought Luriel back from her silent self-recriminations. An old man swam towards them, leaving the sinking island he had been relying on for safe harbor in the floods. The sudden remembrance that only a short while earlier this had still been a thriving community was hard to accept. A flash of Puzo trapped in his wheelchair crossed her mind, and she leaned out of the boat to help the man swimming towards them to safety.

His face flashed with gratitude as he saw the arm extended for him, and he slowly made his way to the lead boat, fighting the eddies of current and strong pull of the depths below. His hand was close to Luriel’s when something splashed out of the water behind him.

All Luriel could see was flash of a reptilian face on a long thick snake-body, quickly circling the struggling swimmer as he vanished into the depths screaming. Luriel nearly went over the side herself in the moment of attack, Rythe and Ian pulling her back. Shaking, she turned to Ian and asked what that monstrosity had been!

Viktor answered as he placed his guns back into their holsters.

“There are older and more dangerous things than Dreamseed down among the darkness beneath my city. We would be wise to stay cautious, for I fear the danger will grow worse when we enter the tunnels.”

Luriel nodded, still shaken by the hideous face on the water-thing.

The torches provided only minimal light, but the flickering shadows seemed all the more threatening as they continued to press onward. The water had reached even greater heights, the signs of previous structures vanishing as they approached a wall. The water had nearly risen to the level of an open tunnel, a broken set of steps leading down its wall into the watery depths.

The boats docked, Gunter and the guardsmen rejoined them. At the gate of the tunnel, Viktor again expressed his desire for all to be vigilant!

“Darkness may lie before us, and nightmares wait that have been given flesh. Before us, this is nothing. Together, we must be strong and fast for our city!”

Thagiel nodded, rose to his full height, and extended his hands. Both began to glow, emitting a light more brilliant than any torch. Turning, he stepped first into the black gloom of the long tunnel. Luriel and the others followed close behind.

[SotDX]

Luriel drew forth the sword of prophecy, the frozen blade. In her other hand she held the heretic pistol Ian had given her. She followed Thagiel so armed, with purity and perdition.

Even Thagiel’s great light could not illuminate all nooks and corners within the halls of darkness. Behind her, the guardsmen carried torches that threw shadows and shapes on the walls. Her eyes caught movement in the shadows, but she could find nothing solid. There was a palpable sense of fear and dread in the air.

They were set upon without warning.

At first she thought they were wild dogs, snarling and biting into any flesh they could find. As Luriel slashed at one and kicked another, she realized these were no dogs, but enormous rats. They fought with ferocity, one circling on Luriel and biting her left leg from behind. Shouting out in pain, she cut it in two with her sword. The others were dispatched much the same, by gun and by blade as suited each. Thagiel, though, used neither. The only weapon he wielded were the powers he had as a Raguelite, strange fire and light emanating from his hands to slay the rushing masses that beset them all.

With only a few wounds, the group continued, Thagiel still in lead. He held his hands up high, the circle of light spreading out ahead. He was focused, intent. He kept his senses sharp and ready to feel the assault of another enemy. Yet, even with his focus, he felt distracted. Years of time had passed since the day he faced the Lord of the Flies, and now the dark thrust came finding him ill prepared. He was afraid, disoriented, and feared that his adopted city would burn for his faults.

Luriel saw the metal tripwire only a moment before Thagiel would have crossed it. She grabbed his shoulder stopping him, and he stared back at her in alarm. Silently, she pointed down at the floor and the trap he had missed. Using the rifle of one of the guardsmen, the group safely set the trap off and metal spikes flew forth from both walls, surely set to impale any who stumbled unaware upon the wire.

Thagiel was disheartened. He had almost stumbled to his death in his foolish state. He turned to Luriel.

“You must lead us on from here.”

Luriel nearly argued, but then agreed. She could tell his mind was clouded. Feeling sharply uncomfortable leading such a strange party, Luriel stepped forward and took the lead.

They entered a portion of the tunnel that had open holes along the walls and in the floor. She could hear a faint rustling sound from all around. She motioned for the others to move slowly and cautiously, for her instincts sensed another trap present somewhere. Another set of spikes?

The rustling grew louder as the entire group reached the center of the strange holed section of the corridor. At once a sea of black beetles flooded the floor swooping out from every hole. Luriel quickly recognized the distinctive ridged patterns on the creatures. These were not merely beetles, but creatures she had read of in Fra Domenico’s treatise on Dreamseed. One bite or stab from their razor horns would lay eggs deep.

The men fought bravely, knocking and slashing at the collected insects. Many were stabbed through their boots or armor, Gunter himself being stabbed directly in the heel. The assault was repulsed and the bugs scattered, but the limping and frightened men behind her made it clear that fear had struck at her companions’ hearts. She knew that those who had been stung would suffer greatly in the days ahead as the eggs began to hatch all over their bodies.

They progressed further into the labyrinth around them. Ian suggested they were nearing the region of the city where Thagiel’s tower stood. Rythe commented he hoped they had seen the last of the awful creatures, though his voice confirmed he expected otherwise. Thagiel said nothing, his eyes intent on finding the end of their journey.

Again they entered a stretch of hall that was punctuated by holes, but instead of the walls and floor, these large wide circular openings were in the ceiling. A charnel smell spoilt the air ahead, and stifling a gag, Luriel moved slowly within. There was only darkness above within the strange holes.

Forward they walked, certain something would strike from above. With each footstep Luriel expected more rats or beetles, or worse. She felt something drip onto her shoulder stinking of rot and decay. The cold filth ran down her side. She clutched her sword tightly. She would not fear.

A scream rang out from the back of the line as on of the guardsmen went down. All turned, eyes open and ready for an attacker. What leapt on them from above, plummeting with great force, they were not prepared for. Luriel met the eyes of her assailant directly. The bloated dead eyes of the corpse-thing were awful to behold. It was a torso with twisted arms and taloned fingers, and a spinal cord swinging like a tail at the base of its rotting husk.

Many of these unliving things struck, tearing through the ranks of the soldiers. Viktor’s pistols shot forth into the head of one, his sword slicing another in to. Rythe’s Hasta slashed into another. The speed of these legless crawling dead was inhuman, and their strength terrible. Before her eyes one of the guardsmen screamed in terror as the torso-thing climbed up his body, wrapped its skeletal spinal tail around him, and then with its iron grip ripped his head from his shoulders letting loose an arterial spray.

Thagiel burned the beasts back with his great power, and Luriel ignited Kyriel’s sword. Gunter, limping, was struck severely across the chest, ribs cracking like old wood. All told, four of the Guardsmen died in the assault of the unliving. Gunter was hurt, Ian was bleeding, Viktor bruised, and all in shock at the sight of the dead moving. The image of the spinal cord flapping side to side like some inhuman tail would be in their nightmares forever more.

Viktor looked at his savaged men and fury overtook him.

“No more. We move and we end this now. Do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM COMING FOR YOU HAWTHORNE! I WILL END YOU!”

Thagiel seemed winded as he leaned against a wall panting. He had great power in him, but Luriel worried he had drained himself too far. She had no way of knowing what other forces lay ahead. They all would need his strength.

Before them was a large wooden door. Steeling herself, Luriel threw it open, and together with Viktor, stepped into a massive chamber. The room was like some arcane temple, the vaulted ceiling high, supported by a series of columns running the length of the room. Torches lit the center line of the room, plunging the outer parts into a thick darkness.

Ian looked around and whistled softly.

“Now this is something I did not know was down here. This is like some kind of place of worship… but to who?”

Thagiel answered.

“I have seen the like before in dark corners of the world. This is a temple to the Fear Lord. There are things in the shadows of this place which may try and seize upon your mind. Be strong. Close your mind to false influences. There is a reason some call the Tempter the Fear Lord.”

They moved slowly into the room, each watching the area ahead. In the distance was another great door, and somehow all knew their goal was beyond this last door. Viktor could sense a great evil ahead, but held firmly to his guns. He would not be deterred. The evil would not be allowed to continue while he lived.

Luriel sensed movement in the dark corners of the hall. It was almost as if the shadows shifted, darkness swishing between columns ahead of her. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Turning, she found Adolphus in the shadows.

He was bruised and broken, his body a mockery of its once vital form. Holding up his hands, her begged for her to help him.

“Please… Luriel… the pain is so great. I am so cold here. I need you to help me!”

Luriel wanted to go to him, to help him… end his suffering! But inside, a weak voice told her it wasn’t real. Locking her legs and shaking her head, she forced the image out of her mind.

The form changed. Adolphus was no longer a maimed figure of pity. Now he stood firm and strong, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Beside him stood Ab Abrogast, his face also severe. Together in unison they tell her how disappointed they are in her. She has failed them both and brought shame to her Order! Ramielites everywhere will know her as a failure and traitor, siding with dark forces against the glorious church! Thagiel has only been preparing her to descend into darkness as he himself did. He is a liar and a servant of the Lord of the Flies! He is in league with Hoffman… is Hoffman!

Tears well in her eyes as the shame crushed her. Their disapproval was so complete she nearly fell to her knees. She wanted to beg their forgiveness. She was a complete failure! And then… again… the weak voice, so faint, almost impossible to hear: “It is a lie.”

Standing strong she pushed the image from her head. Shadows! They are not real!

Turning, she found the others wrapped in thin wisps of shadow, as if some black fog had moved around them. An alien voice from the darkness projected its anger at her.

“So be it. If you will not bend to my suggestion, you will die.”

She could see no one speaking, but before her eyes one of the guardsmen turned to her, his face a mask of terror. He leveled his rifle directly at her. Luriel charged the man and struggled with him before he could fire, but the others were still caught in the illusions. As she fought to keep the ensorcelled man from shooting her, she heard the others mumbling in their phantom fears. Viktor called out the name of his beloved Elizabetha. Ian asked the empty air ‘what he have I done’? Rythe cried out for failing his brothers and not saving them. Thagiel… Thagiel wept as his city burned.

Luriel shouted at the terrified guard, but his will was not his own. The gun fired, but hit neither. Instead, Gunter, who was trapped in his own dark fears, was knocked back as the shot hit him in the chest. The crack of the gun and Gunter’s shout broke the spell, and at once the others came aware. Confusion clouded their faces, and Thagiel, his back to the far end of the chamber, smiled at Luriel.

“Do you see? You are stronger than you know. I believe in-”

His words were cut off in a shout of pain as a long bone spike jutted through his shoulder and lifted him off the ground. All turned to see the face of what lived in the shadows, now both exposed and angry.

[SotDX]

The beast was a cross between human and spider, its lower body a white mass of multi-jointed legs. Its upper body was covered in external white bones acting as a kind of armor. Its arms ended at the elbows and became a mass of long sharp tentacles, one of which now suspended Thagiel by his pierced shoulder and held him in the air in extreme agony.

Its face was covered in the same white bony excursions as the rest of its body, but beneath the thin slits glowing eyes glared out at them with hatred. It had no voice, but produced a chattering sound as it approached closer, its many razor tentacles swirling out to strike at the others.

Viktor ran to Gunter, certain the man would be dead. The old leathery general still lived, though blood dripped from his mouth as he coughed and spasmed. The wound was severe. The Lord of the City shouted to his men to fire upon the thing and bring it down, but to avoid hitting Thagiel.

Luriel saw this, and the two living Guardsmen began firing, as if in a dream. Everything had happened so fast. Then Ian was at her side, he also leveling his weapon on the bone-encrusted monstrosity that approached them. The shots hit the armor and did nothing. The creature’s form was armored against the attacks. Luriel met Rythe’s eyes, and he looked down at his Hasta. If he approached close enough to use his bladed weapon, the tendrils would rip him apart. She could see he would do so regardless of the danger.

Closing her eyes, she reached deep within herself. She extended her mind as was her power, and searched for the weakness in her foe. Her Engelic gift passed through her, and she became aware as if from a recovered memory. The creature’s back was unshielded, free of any armor or bones. Sure of her course, she tightened her grip on her sword. As she took to the air of the chamber, she did not even notice the blade growing incredibly cold as it froze.

One of the guardsmen’s scream was cut off as a razor tendril punched through his face. Viktor shouted out in anger firing at the beast. Ian only nearly missed his own death. Rythe slashed at the tendrils with his Hasta, but they were as hard and resistant to his weapon as the body of the beast was to the firearms.

Thagiel struggled against the long pole through his shoulder, but he could not pull free. The beast swung him side to side, the pain terrible. Would he die here and now? Was this to be his end?

Luriel landed on the spider-beast’s thorax, and without hesitation she plunged her frozen blade deep within the creature’s all too human back. The blade hissed as the cold met the dark nether-flesh within its white skin, extending out between bones on its chest. Turning, it tossed her off its body and let out a high-pitched wail. It stumbled, dropping Thagiel to the ground.

Luriel lifted herself up, now near the final door. Had she succeeded? Before her eyes the beast let out a last wail, and crumbled to the ground dead. She walked to it, the triumphant relief on the faces of her companions distant but clear, and retrieved her sword. The chest was frozen as she pulled her sword out, but the blade returned to normal, its unnatural chill passing.

The immediate threat passed, she hurried to the body of Thagiel. He had fallen from a great height. Before she reached him he had begun to stand, and he turned to her.

“I am… wounded, but I am ready to end this.”

His shoulder bled, his walk bore a limp, but still he moved towards the final doors. The others followed, save Gunter. Still alive, the old-warhorse was propped up against a column gun in hand. Viktor motioned for Luriel to open the doors, and she stepped forward to do so.

Lucius Hawthorne appeared before her blocking the way. His form was odd, almost translucent. He raised his hands.

“I warn you all, none who enter my private chamber will live to see another sunrise. I say this to you all, even Lord Constance. And especially you… ‘Little One’.”

He had leveled his gaze at Luriel when he had mocked Adolphus’s name for her. She pushed through his form (which faded away) and threw open the doors with great force. The five of them entered the chamber as one. None noticed Ian Longwalke was not with them as they entered.

The circular chamber had a high ceiling, and was filled with shelves of strange books. Several tables lay at the center, many filled with the dead corpses of previous sacrifices. Before one central table stood Hawthorne himself, clad in a simple black robe. Before him on the table was nothing but a single red stone encircled by strange writing. Hawthorne held one last surprise, as well.

He had a blade to the throat of Elizabetha. She was clad in a white robe, one which made all present think one word: sacrifice. Her eyes were distant and lost, as if in a trance. What he she endured at the hands of this beast?

Viktor shouted as a man possessed: “Release her Hawthorne! I swear to you, if you harm her I will not rest until I have hunted you until the ends of the earth. There will be no end to my rage. You will know my fury till the end of days!”

Hawthorne merely smiled and pressed the blade closer to her neck. All stood silent and stiff, unsure of how to proceed. On the table the stone began to pulse, as if alive, and the table darkened as if burned. Smoke began to rise from the strange artifact. A sudden pulsing entered the chamber from above, as if the sound of a thousand wings.

Thagiel let out a worried sound.

“It has begun. The Dreamseed have come, hundreds of them. They are drawn like months to the coming flame… they will feast in the smoke and carnage.”

Hawthorne laughed at the words, nodding in agreement.

“And a most sweet celebration it will be. A festival of olden days, to see such a city as this given to ash and ruin! My lord has been most generous to me in granting my greatest wish this day!”

Luriel knew what she had to do. She had to try. Sheathing her sword, she put her hands up and stepped forward.

“Please, Hawthorne, take me instead. Release that poor girl.”

The foul creature in the skin of a man laughed at the innocent Engel who understood so little. There would be no trade. All would die in his blessed fire. All would be taken into the maw.

Luriel tried harder, asking that surely the blood of an Engel would be more satisfying to the Lord of the Flies than just a poor human. Would she not make a more perfect sacrifice? None knew that Ian Longwalke had entered the room by a different entrance, and slowly crept from table to table. He was getting close to the traitor. He had found a different way into the room from a shadowed corner of the hall outside.

“Please… do not hurt her.” Viktor’s voice was that of a man who faced something he was not strong enough to bear. “I… I love her.”

Luriel could tell there would be no trade and Hawthorne meant to kill the girl. It was clear in his eyes. But then we would kill him, she thought. And then she realized. Elizabetha was not the sacrifice. He wanted us to kill him, kill him for his god. He was the sacrifice!

As she realized this she caught sight of Ian rising up from behind Hawthorne undetected. He leveled his gun, the same he had used to save Adolphus what seemed an eternity ago, and she screamed at him to stop!

It was no use.

The shot took Hawthorne by surprise, ripping through his chest and spilling his blood all over the rayth stone. His arm fell away from the terrified Elizabetha, and he fell forward upon the table holding his burning creation. Turning away in the black realization of what was to come, Luriel saw Viktor falling backwards as well, the shot having passed through Hawthorne and hitting him.

Turning back, Luriel watched Ian pull Elizabetha’s away from the violent scene as the Hawthorne began to burn. The room grew dark, the torches and lanterns all snuffing out as one. Luriel felt the strong arms of Thagiel pull her backwards and down as the room was plunged into a silent darkness. All sound faded, even her own heartbeat, as a silence of the dead filled the chamber.

A sudden flash filled the chamber with a light as bright as the sun. The stone exploded into a blaze of fire that became a shaft of dark red rising to the ceiling. The roar of the fire was deafening as the consuming blaze burned through the rock above and flew up the newly created opening.

Luriel stood, her ears ringing and eyes stinging. The fire was gone. It had eaten through the rock to ascend directly into Thagiel’s tower above, and now would be blazing out over the city. Soon the Dreamseed would descend and all would be lost.

All was lost.

She lowered her head. She wanted to die.

Thagiel grabbed her and shouted.

“I must go. I will not let my city die.”

He turned and flew up into the still white hot shaft in the rock above. He was flying up to where the Inferno now blazed in an act of clear suicide. There was no hope in stopping an Inferno once it burned. And, she bitterly mused, in stopping one before it started.

Luriel looked at Viktor’s crumbled form, Ian’s bewildered face, Elizabetha’s empty expression… and Rythe’s look of horror.

“Is it over Luriel? Did we fail?”

She could not say yes. She still lived. She had to fight.

“No, Rythe. Not yet. Pray for me.”

She leapt into the air and flew after Thagiel. The heat from the walls singed her wings and burned her, but she flew on. It was a long flight to the level of the city, but at last she flew up and out into the smoky air. No Inferno or Brandland greeted her at the surface, but as she looked she could see the path it had taken. A small Inferno did burn, and as she watched, it grew. Dreamseed descended from the black clouds over the city, and spiraled around the tower of destruction.

Thagiel flew above, holding in place. She flew to him.

He looked at her, his face so different. No longer was there fear on his face. His face was alive and free, filled with a joy she had imagined impossible for him. He was an Engel of greater glory than she had ever seen.

Thagiel reached out and grabbed Luriel with his strong hands.

“I have not believed in anything in years. You have made me a believer once again. I am alive, quickened by your beauty and love. You… you gave me back my name. I know now what I have to do. Never forget what I have taught you. I only wish there had been more time.”

A thousand questions and fears erupted on Luriel’s face, but before she could speak he kissed her with incredible passion. She was held firm in his embrace by his strength… and by her own.

He pushed her away, smiled at her one last time, and flew directly into the Inferno.

Luriel called out for him, wanting to stop him and pull him back. He was already plunging into the fires as a man possessed. She watched his winged form vanish into the outer corona of flame, and cried out as his wings blackened in the fire.

Before her eyes his form was lost.

The taste of him on her lips, she cried out his name.

And then the sky opened. Blasts of lightning rained from above breaking the clouds in their force. Thagiel’s body glowed in the fire, more brilliant than a thousand stars, greater than the paltry light of the Inferno. His body was an outline of pure energy within the heart of the pillar of fire.

Then, as she watched, the Inferno was blown apart in an explosion strong enough to throw her from the sky. She landed hard against the scorched earth, and slowly lifted herself in disbelief. She found the Inferno destroyed. Of Thagiel, there was no sign. The Dreamseed scattered to all directions, their call silenced.

Calling his name again, Luriel stumbled forward. Tears ran freely, sobs wrenching her throat. The taste of him on her lips made her heart ache as if she was dying. He was gone. He was ended.

A single singed feather drifted on the wind and landed before her. She reached down and picked it up.

“I will not forget you, or what you have given me. And I will remember your name.”


END OF BOOK TWO

[SotDX]

BOOK THREE:

The children whispered as they crossed through the fields. Everyone in the village was speaking of the new prophet who had come. Some said he was from the north, hailing from the blasted lands where the Lord of the Flies now claimed dominion. Others said he was just a fool, an itinerant lunatic who wandered from place to place spouting nonsense and lies. And others… others spoke in hushed tones that the prophet had come from a dark place within the shadow of the world.

The boys did not know what was true, but they wanted to see the old man themselves. Their parents had forbidden it, of course, but that rarely stopped them from their mischief. Sneaking out windows and cresting fences was second nature to these champions of youth. Still, as much as they wanted to see the crazy preacher, fear nestled deep within their hearts at the actual thought of laying eyes on him.

Neither would admit their subtle reluctance to achieve their goal, but each felt the other’s undercurrent of trepidation. It did not make sense to be afraid. They were going to see the prophet where many from the village had gathered to listen to him. They would keep their distance, watching from afar. They only wanted to hear his words, see his odd appearance, and then they would be off on the other games of childhood.

And yet, as they neared the hilltop overlooking the village below, the sense of dread returned. They heard the man’s voice before they saw him. The waters of the north were visible behind him, the chilled wind blowing south from the colder lands. His words echoed as he bellowed them, his voice somehow both soft and loud at the same time.

“… my brothers, my sisters… my children… you must listen to the words I bear before you. There is a darkness in our lands, a cancer that eats its fill from the life within us all!”

The two boys stood each to a side of an old tree. The crowd around the speaker was larger than they imagined. So many from town had come! More than they had thought. The old prophet stood atop a large stone, and stared down at the listeners as he turned and shouted for his sermon.

The boys felt an odd sense of uncertainty while looking at the figure on the rock. He was not as old as they had heard, but it was hard to say what his age was. His face was nearly black, burned dark by the sun (but what sun?). His hair was a matted mess, hanging long and free over his shoulders. A dark beard fell down over the front of him. His eyes, though… they were blindingly white, and nearly shined out at those who their owner gazed upon. One boy felt his throat constrict for he knew the look in those eyes. He had seen it before when his father had been forced to put down one of their dogs. It was a look of madness… the eyes of the insane.

“You know of what I speak. You know this darkness as you know your own names. The Infernos come ever onward, the Dreamseed fly unstopped blanking our skies with their winged filth. Nothing stops them. No force on earth has been able to end their scourge!”

Mutters of discontent and unease filled the crowd. The prophet did not say the words as such, but implied heresy. He was clearly saying the Engel and Church had been ineffective in stopping the enemy, and would continue to fail. Some in the audience muttered assent to his claims. It was true. Two Crusades and the Lord of the Flies still grew more powerful each year.

“Two Himmel have been lost before the terrible might of the Adversary we fear. Who here does not dream darkly of the coming of the end for your children? Who hear has not awoken in a wet sweat at the image of an Inferno with its destination here?”

The crowd had turned. If there had been those who were ill prepared to accept the heretical words of the prophet, they had vanished into the fold of those who were now murmuring their assent. And it was no lie that they agreed to. Few were spared the nightmares of the evil that stalked the world. The boys linked hands, not looking at each other, but holding to each other for comfort. The boy who had recognized the lunatic’s gaze felt a sense of vertigo, as if staring down into a deep chasm of nothingness.

“There is a path to salvation. Children, I call to you! There is a road out of the darkness which we have let infest our world. I have seen it! I, my listeners, I have walked this earth. I have seen the northern lands taken from the armies of the righteous. I have seen a Himmel destroyed and cast into the Brandlands!”

Sounds of sobbing and shouts of religious ecstasy shot back from the crowd.

“I have walked the west and the east. The heretics are growing stronger, their Junklords eager to repay innocent church lands for imagined crimes. They aim their heretic weapons at the heart of us all.”

The fervor of the audience was cresting. He had them. They danced to his song.

“I have walked in the quiet places in the south. I have seen the darkness rising even there. I have seen the child ruler who would wish us to believe that after these hundreds of years there is still hope for him to defeat that which devours us now.”

This indictment of the Pontifex Secudus was almost too much. The crowd grew quiet, and the prophet control’s of them was loosening. Still, all was well. He knew what he was doing. He should, for it was not the first time he had won his worshipers from the bosom of the Church. They would be his.

Leaping down from the rock, the prophet stepped into the widening gap within the crowd.

“I alone have watched the shadows beneath the sunless skies. I have listened to the rumble of the storms. I have watched the birthing of Infernos. I know the way. I can give you salvation.”

The boys could not tell what the prophet was doing, as he had ducked down below the line of the crowd. Had someone tackled him? Perhaps some believer had grown tired of his outrages. Yes, please let that be the case. The boy who had seen the truth in the eyes of the prophet looked at his friend and realized he was alone. His closet friend had been converted. He watched the crowd for the prophet, hungry for more of the words that answered the questions inside him.

The boys approached the crowd, one following the other’s trance-like approach. They could see what had happened then. The prophet had kneeled down before a body that had been brought to the hill by one of the crowd. It was the son of a farmer. He had fallen from the hayloft and landed on his head, dying instantly. What was the prophet going to do? The young man was dead.

Placing his blackened fingers on the youth’s pale face, the prophet closed his eyes.

“I will bring this child back to you as a testament to my wisdom. As I bring him forth from the darkness of death, so can I bring you all out of the path of fire which awaits.”

The boy watched as the prophet strained his body, his dark form trembling. Then it was a shadow fell over the dead, and yet there was no sun for the light to make shadow. Instead, the light came from within the lunatic. The boy saw the light within him, and recognized it to be like a rubied expanse, a velvet curtain pulled forth over the heart of the world. Stepping back, his put his hands to his face as his eyes began to sting and burn.

The prophet stood up, and turned away from his work. On the cot, the dead boy began to move, coughing and shaking. He was alive. The man had brought the dead back. Shouts of cheer and praise surrounded the speaker as he reascended his rock perch.

“That boy breathes again. It took no winged warrior to save him. I have touched the power behind the darkness. If you but listen, I can save you all.”

The boy left his friend behind as he ran from the crowd, his eyes still stinging and burning. He stumbled away, and fell to his knees on the other side of the hill. He prayed to God to help him, and to the Archangel of his lands, Jeramiel.

“Please, send someone to help us. We are lost. The wolf has come among the sheep!”

His hands were covered in warm blood from his bleeding eyes, but he knew not. As he pulled his hands from his eyes, he was blind. His eyes were empty white now. He had seen more than the prophet had wanted, and as punishment for his sin, he would never see again.

---

Markiel sat in his Fellowship’s chamber in quiet contemplation. His Fellowship had left him to meditate, misreading his quiet state for one of peace. Instead, he was quite the opposite. While his form did not move and his breathing was slow, his mind raged over the questions that plagued him.

He was a Michaelite, the Leader of a Fellowship, and a powerful and respected Engel. He had always believed, followed his faith, and listened to his Ab. He was a warrior of God, one of the fighting five Orders here on Earth to protect mankind from the darkness of the Lord of the Flies.

Still, something plagued him. It had plagued him from his earliest days. When only a postulant still fresh from descent, he had had flashes of memories that could not be. He had seen faces of family, felt warm embraces of a mother and father, and shaken at the recollection of a cold room where he had hung upside down. He had confessed these troubles to his nonnus, speaking the truth openly with trust. Trust… trust in all things that were good and right.

He had never made the same mistake again. They had hurt him. They had done something to him then, in those early days of first life, to try and make him forget. It had not worked, at least as they had wanted. While he had never breathed a word to another soul what he had remembered, he still remembered it. It was still inside his memory. He had learned the most important lesson then; trust no one.

He contemplated his situation. While he was a respected Engel, he was a rebel. He had secretly learned to read, met with heretics, and grown in his distrust of what his masters told him. He secretly raged within at the lies they bound around him. He was a Michaelite, the voice of his Fellowship, but the lies they put within his mouth choked him.

He remembered Helder and the fury that had been within his eyes. Helder had been a vital figure within the church, but no longer. He was now an outcast, hunted by prelates. Markiel felt his time was coming. He had always been careful, but he had seen evidence of a change, from furtive glances of other Michaelites to the unspoken but implied thoughts of the Ab. He had been marked as a dangerous force.

Markiel knew Roma well enough to know that those who were considered dangerous vanished. It was coming, and there was little he could do about it. He was only one Engel, and his Fellowship would not understand. They did not secretly doubt as he did. They did not know of the things he had read in the quiet hours of the night.

They did not know what he suspected when sleep and meditation were impossible.

It was only a matter of time before it was his turn to vanish.

---

The salt smell of the water was acrid to his nose. He alternated between fear and obsession, lost within his books and notes. He was a scholar first and foremost, and even his imposed isolation could not alter his being.

It had all changed so quickly. One moment he had been the fair-haired boy of the Pontifex, chosen to sit at his side and discuss history. His papers had been favored by all Ramielites, put in places of honor within the Vatican library. His words on the early history of the church were going to rival the writings of Wendel.

It was no longer going to be that way. His works had been quietly removed, his name forgotten, his ideas reviled. How had it come to this? Sitting in the dirty shamble of a room, the smell of rotting fish choking him, the scholar could hardly understand. It had been so innocent. A new research project, a great work on the fallen Himmel… He had wanted to capture the essence of what had been lost and try to place some understanding over the twin tragedies. Two towers fallen, lost to the ashes of time. It was the project that would have made him immortal! Instead it was likely to make him as if he had never existed.

So innocent, it had begun. With the help of his friends, he had found fragments and notes not ever recorded within the official histories. There was a record of last minute happenings within the Samaelite Himmel that seemed to take place before the Inferno had turned. It seemed clear evidence that the Inferno had changed course for a reason, and the reason itself… the possibility hinted at within the notes he had uncovered was too important to hide!

He had held in his hands conclusive proof that there was a great reason behind the destruction of both Himmel. There was a reason the Samaelites had been cut off from the world. And as for the Raguelites…

A knock at the door set his heart to racing. It was only the boy who had taken to caring for him. He was unused to living in such a place, so rustic and simple. The boy had come with a meal for him. Cooked fish, again.

He did not stop his work, eating with one hand as he scribbled notes with the other. He had to finish his great work. If his friends were correct, the Pontifex would not let him live. Whatever his crime was in the child-ruler’s eyes, it was heinous. And death would come for him.

Pausing for a moment between bites of fish, he wondered if his death would be at the hands of man or Engel? If he was to die for his work, then perhaps it would be best for some Engel to end his life. Whether it would be man or Engel, he had to finish before they came. The half-eaten fish forgotten, the banished scholar retook with a vengeance to his work. Ink flowed, and history was explored.

The boy shut the door and left the funny man to his scribbling.

[SotDX]

Luriel opened her eyes to the bright light, squinting it away. Bewilderment took her for a moment, for she was uncertain of her location. The ground rocked gently, and above her the cloudless sky was filled with warm sun.

Standing and looking around, recognition settled. Around her was the golden dreamsea, the strange detritus of lost ages cast adrift. She stood on the bow of a great boat, and before her the sky was dominated by two moons.

She was struck that such a strange sight would seem familiar… even comforting. Somehow this felt like coming home. The soft sound of tinkling music drifted up from the deck below. Luriel knew what she would find down the steps; a wooden door marked with his name awaited.

Letting the warmth of the enormous sun wash over her face, Luriel closed her eyes and absorbed the perfect breeze of the golden waters.

And then she remembered.

Fire. Thagiel. The Inferno!

Luriel brought her hands to her face in horror. The sight of him flying without hesitation into the pillar of blaze… he saved them all. Whatever the Church and the world thought of him, she knew. He was a hero. He was a braver Engel than any who had ever lived!

She started to sob, the memory of his body burning as it entered the edges of the Inferno to clear to deny. She stifled the urge, but it was strong. She would have succumbed to the agony inside her if his voice had not broken the spell.

“Careful, girl. The winds of the sea have a way of making us remember.”

Luriel looked up startled. Maetoth stood on the deck, a heavy robe gathered around his frail form. His lined face considered her, and his eyes bespoke of a great sadness all his own.

“And at times… the resurfaced memory can be most painful to bear.”

Luriel stood, watching the strange figure before her. He promised her answers, enlightenment… and all he had given her was his riddles. She felt anger well up within her.

“Did you know?”

The accusation in her voice was hard and cold. Maetoth turned away from her, and his large eyes fixed on the false moon drifting across the impossible sky. He had known this would be hard on the girl, but she needed this tragedy to make her strong. So many tragedies lay before her…

“I am here to remind you of the questions I put before you. You must not forget the path I put you on. You need the answers.”

He turned back to her, his eyes fierce and vital in his ancient face. They seemed somehow too large for his head.

Luriel was still angry, and stepped closer to him.

“Oh… I remember your questions. One in particular. It went something like… ‘meet the thrice tempted and the triple star will change—though learning it will bring pain’, right?”

Again her voice was hard and cold. She was angry, and she was striking out.

“You knew. You knew he was going to die!”

Maetoth did not react to her accusations. His round eyes merely watched her, impassionate and unresponsive.

Luriel stood before him, angry… upset… and hurting terribly.

Maetoth nodded, gently. His eyes filled with a terrible sadness, a pain older than worlds.

“Yes. I knew he would die to save that which he loved. The path of salvation always leads to sacrifice. And you, dear girl…”

He reached out to her and stroked her face with his baby-soft hand.

“You will know sacrifice as no other can.”

And with that Luriel opened her eyes to find Rythe shaking her by the shoulder. In shock, she pushed him away.

Rythe, startled himself, blinked and stepped back.

“Forgive me, Luriel. I did not know you were resting. You were speaking, so I thought you were awake.”

Speaking? Luriel looked around, finding herself in a small alcove of the Hospital. She had been dreaming. What was it Maetoth had said? His final words slipped from her mind as embers of smoke caught in a child’s hands. Something of sacrifice… salvation… it was all wisps of half-remembered dream.

“Though the things you were saying… most strange!”

Luriel shook her head, rising to her feet. The empty feeling inside her burned at the sudden thought of lost Thagiel. Rythe sensed her sudden despair, and moved to brace her.

“Rest, Luriel. You have fought hard and seen much this day. I know I am more weary than I have ever been.”

Luriel smiled at him. He had fought bravely, and she told him so. Rythe was pleased, but she could see he felt the loss of the day.

“I am very sorry for the loss of Thagiel. It seems to me that he has redeemed himself by any court of character or justice. No man, or Engel, could wish to acquit himself better.”

Luriel nodded, the strength slowing returning to her limbs. Rythe pulled away, no longer bracing her.

“Yes, I want you to know Viktor thanked me personally for fighting at his side in the time of his great need. He said I represented the Engelitic Church both well and with great honor.”

“You did, Rythe. No braver Templar ever fought alongside an Engel. Now, how are the others?”

Rythe recounted to Luriel what had happened since she had rested in her alcove. It had been she, of course, who fighting despair had flown back down below the city to bring the worst wounded up to the hospital. Many only lived due to her fast flight, Gunter among them.

Her efforts to save the others did not end there. Under her careful instruction from Fra Domenico’s works she had prepared the Raphaelites at the hospital to deal with the terrible Scourges that had infected so many of the party.

Rythe told her Viktor was well enough, his armor having saved him from the worst brunt of Ian Longwalke’s fateful shot. Longwalke. The name summoned a memory from Luriel’s confused mind.

She remembered standing there in the burned wasteland where the Inferno had done its worst, Ian at her side. She had struggled to convince him to come with her to the hospital and be treated. He was burned slightly from the blast wave, and he had suffered his own wounds in the fight to reach the temple. Worse, though, was the wound he carried inside. He blamed himself for what had happened. He felt the Inferno’s creation and Thagiel’s death was his personal responsibility. Try as she might to keep him, he had vanished into the smoky night.

She also remembered Viktor’s pained face when she had lifted him from below. In a strained voice he had asked his question.

“What of Thagiel?”

Luriel had not answered, but he has seen his answer in her face. He had whispered only one word as she lifted him, and then shut his emotions away as he dealt with the damage done to his home.

His word, “brother”.

Rythe, hoping to lift Luriel’s spirits, told her that it he had heard said that Thagiel’s tower was to be rebuilt from the ashes in memory of his sacrifice. A tribute was to be made to him.

Luriel nodded, her heart cold and heavy. No monument of lifeless stone or speech of mindless rhetoric would bring him back. He was unlike anything she had even dreamed of, and now he was forever gone. She ached to see his alien eyes, or feel his electric touch.

Such thoughts were cast from her mind when she saw Cassiel leaned over a patient ahead of her. She hurried to him. She had said little to her brothers when she had returned. She had been numb and lost, in no way ready to speak of what she felt inside.

Cassiel was over the bandaged form of Gunter, the war-general of Viktor Constance, who Luriel had carefully flown over the city to the gates of the hospital. He was a confessed hater of Engel and a veteran of more than one heretic engagement, and yet he lived due to the tender care of the Raphaelite Order.

Gunter frowned when he caught sight of Luriel, a reaction she was expecting. She imagined he was displeased at being at the mercy of the church, and would desire to be removed from the premises as soon as he could. Still, she had saved him not in hope of his gratitude, but in obedience to the laws of God.

“Cassiel, is he healing?”

Cassiel turned and smiled at the face behind him. He hugged Luriel tightly, but she could feel the weariness in him. He always stretched himself too thin, and this time was no different.

“Yes… once we removed the dormant Dreamseed from his flesh… which was no small task, mind you… he is recovering.”

Luriel smiled, patting her brother gently. Gunter met her gaze, and his frown softened. What was he going to say? Some harsh demand to be set loose?

“forgive me… my voice is as weak as I am…”

Gunter, the great warrior, was barely able to speak.

Cassiel cautioned him to rest, but he refused, determined to speak.

“I want to say… to you, Luriel…”

Luriel leaned closer so she could hear him as he rasped.

“I want to apologize to you. I have done you a disservice.”

She was stunned. This man hated Engel and the Church. She listened closer, uncertain how to respond.

“I… I never trusted a one of you. I always thought you would turn on us. Even he.”

Gunter closed his eyes, moved at the thought of Thagiel’s actions.

“I never thought… you and he were both willing to go to the very fire for us all. I always thought Engel were but servants of mad masters. You are not. You… you are a hero.”

Cassiel smiled reverently at Luriel, convinced the impossible had just happened. Luriel resisted, rejecting his claim.

“I only did my duty. I tried to protect you all.”

Gunter nodded and did not argue. In his eyes, though, Luriel could see she had earned his undying respect. Cassiel led her out of the chamber, and told his patient to rest. The Raphaelite stumbled, though, as they entered the hall. Luriel could see the deep fatigue on his face.

“Cassiel, you must rest. Please, find a quiet spot, close your eyes, and restore yourself.”

Cassiel nodded, looking at her, words in his eyes wanting to escape. He silenced his unspoken questions, and merely touched her shoulder.

Having left him to rest, Luriel decided she should check on the hospital’s most peculiar patient. Preparing herself, she opened the door to Isabella’s room and entered. Mathiel greeted her, on his feet and looking entirely healthier. She was caught in a tremendous hug and she could see great relief in his eyes.

“Mathiel… please. I’m fine.”

She pushed him away gently, but his warm smile and joy at seeing her was undiminished.

“Luriel, I can not say how glad I am to see you. I can’t say I understand what you are going through, but I have an idea…”

Luriel walked past him, not wanting to talk of her loss. Isabella was asleep on her cot, snoring gently, her head still bandaged.

“They gave her something for the pain which has helped her sleep; though I’m sure she keeps one eye open at a slit. Still, I have watched over her while you committed braver acts.”

Luriel nodded, ignoring his jest. About to turn away from the patient, Isabella opened both eyes and glared at her.

“Ah, so you come to gloat. You have succeeded. Are you pleased?”

The accusation stung, though it made little sense. What did she mean?

“Do not look so confused, little winged liar. Tell me your own purposes are not served in the end? The traitor is dead, and my hope of bringing him to Cordova is now a lost dream.”

Luriel’s face first hardened, anger welling at the foul woman’s selfish disregard for all that had happened. Then the sadness inside her broke out, though Luriel tried hard to hide her feelings.

Isabella’s eyes opened, sensing the truth of the situation. She had noticed the protective stance Luriel had taken about Thagiel, but she had not even suspected…

“Forgive me. I misspeak. Let me say you have fought bravely for the people of Vienna, and they are in your debt.”

Luriel nodded, not wanting to give anything more to the snake of a woman. Backing away, she spoke to Mathiel.

“Thank you for watching her. I believe the worst of the crisis is over now, so we can have Templars posted and you can be relieved of guard duty.”

Mathiel’s response was lost to her, for instead of his words she heard Jaciel’s voice in her mind.

“Sister, we are but a small distance from Vienna. I come, and I come with our brothers!”

[SotDX]

The two Engel made their way to the roof of the hospital. Mathiel had expressed his want to stretch his wings, and Luriel had consented for him to accompany her to meet Jaciel and the other Ramielites. As excited as she was at the prospect of seeing Jaciel, she worried over what words he might bring from Ab Abrogast. Adolphus was dead, the mission an abject failure. Mathiel’s coming gave her a sense of comfort against the more unpleasant possibilities.

They found Gavriel on the roof, resting after the long night healing those hurt in the storms, explosions, and brief Inferno. The Raphaelite rose at the sight of them, nodding to each in turn.

“I am glad to see you are up and about, Urielite.”

Mathiel considered his words, inwardly wanting to respond in a way most inappropriate. This sanctimonious ‘healer’ had only days before wanted to remove his head. His critical gaze leveled at the Raphaelite, Mathiel sensed sincerity in Gavriel’s concern. Biting back his instinct to slice away with his sharp tongue, Mathiel merely smiled back and nodded.

Luriel, perhaps having sensed the moment of struggle within her companion, thanked Gavriel for his help and assistance. Some of it was true, some false, but it remained that when all had come to its point of no return he had stood beside her in helping those in need. Whatever the Raphaelite’s faults, Luriel knew where she was with Gavriel.

She started to turn to fly away when Gavriel stopped her with another question.

“Were you not injured? I remember seeing you limping and your clothes bloodied before. Do you need healing?”

Luriel considered his words, for she had forgotten the bites on her leg and the bruises she had suffered. Strangely, she realized the wounds were gone! Had Cassiel healed them? She could not remember him doing so, and it seemed plain he had not. Kneeling down, Luriel found the flesh of her before-bitten leg clean and smooth.

Standing up, she told Gavriel she had been tended to and told Mathiel it was time to fly. Leaving the roof, Luriel pushed the unanswered question away. Surely it was Cassiel. Yes, he had healed her in her sleep, she decided. What other possibility was there? She had no gift to heal herself.

Flying the two Engel surveyed the damage the city had sustained. Luriel was confident it would rebuild and survive, but the injuries ran deep. Massive flooding had devastated much of the slum Under City, killing untold multitudes. The explosions had leveled entire blocks and greatly disrupted something the tek-keeps called a ‘grid’. And the Inferno? The damage from that seemed less physical than spiritual. The people of the city had seen a pure destructive force rise directly amidst them, and their protector lived no more.

Little was said between the two Engel as they flew. Finally Mathiel told Luriel he was eager to meet and speak with other Ramielites. She found this unexpected and asked him why?

“Well… if they are anything like you… I mean before I came to know you I had not known any other of your order. Still, one has expectations from what others say, and you… well, you don’t fit the descriptions I was told about your order. I’m curious if you are an anomaly, or if you Ramielites are just good at keeping secrets.”

It was a good question, she thought. Was she so different from her brethren? Admittedly, back in the Himmel, she had always thought herself somewhat superior, even as a postulant learning at her nonnus’s knee. Somehow those days were hard to recall, seeming more like a distant memory than the short time that had truly passed since her first mission began.

At last Luriel caught sight of Jaciel and the others with him. They were resting in some farmer’s field. Landing, she greeted him and hugged him with great vigor. Behind him were four Ramielites of various ages, all quietly studying Mathiel and her.

“Oh Jaciel, I am so pleased to see you. Thank you for coming.”

He nodded, his expression showing his own joy, but something in his eyes worried her. He looked over her shoulder at the distant outline of Vienna.

“So the fires burn no longer. We could see the Inferno rise up even many hours distant. I feared the worst for you, sister.”

Mathiel stood behind Luriel, curious as to the silent way the others of her order seemed to gaze at her as if she was some-thing. He could not place it, but their cold studious gazes reminded him of something.

“Yes, Jaciel, the fire is out. The Inferno did begin its burning, and would have consumed the city, but we stopped it!”

Jaciel nodded, accepting this without question, despite the unprecedented nature of her revelation. The other Ramielites, though, began to whisper among themselves. Jaciel calmly reached out and placed his hands on Luriel’s shoulders.

“How was it stopped?”

Luriel swallowed. Saying his name was hard.

“He stopped it. I mean Thagiel. He found the power within him to annihilate the Inferno before it could finish expanding.”

Somehow saying the words made it easier. The four Ramielites behind Jaciel stopped whispering and started arguing, considering, and discussing this new declaration among themselves ignoring those speaking before them.

Mathiel, watching the whispers become a chorus of pontification, knew now what their earlier cold gaze had reminded him of. They had watched Luriel as a cold thing the way they would study a language or book. These Engel were distant, aloof. Their babble continued.

“But it is unheard of” “An Engel stopping an Inferno” “No Inferno has ever been stopped” “The traitor did this?” “Unthinkable” “The Thrice-Tempted stopping an Inferno with dark powers” “In my work on the Inferno of Corsica” “Well, I read in Vasil’s theory that-”

Luriel could not hold back and stepping past Jaciel shouted at her older brethren.

“How dare you speak ill of Thagiel? He died last night to stop the Inferno you now blather on about. He gave his life for his city and his people. He saved them… he saved them all.”

She shut her eyes, angry at herself for getting so upset, angry at them for being so scandalized at her suggestions. For their part, they merely looked at one another and shook their heads with scorn. The heretic a hero? Impossible.

Jaciel comforted Luriel with a gentle arm, and then turned back around to speak to his brethren.

“Brothers, you have flown with honor and strength at my side, and for that I give you my thanks and love. As you can see, the crisis we set forth so hurriedly from Prague to resolve has passed. I ask you now to return without me.”

The four listened, and nodded as one. One of the four spoke, as if for all.

“But brother Jaciel, are you not going to return soon? It is your time, as you are surely aware.”

Luriel started at these words. Did it mean what she feared?

“Yes, I will return, but not as yet. Now do not defy my authority, brother Engel. I ask you to return now hence from where we came. If any ask as to my where-being, you can tell them plainly and true; I am here in Vienna and will return hence soon.”

No other arguments arose from the four, but it was clear they disapproved. They turned and flew forth leaving the strange business behind them with some collective relief.

Luriel sighed and shook her head, turning away. Had she changed so much in the past weeks? Had she once been like them? She was no naïve Ramielite lost in books, not any more. She had been forced to become a leader, a warrior, supped with heretic kings, and healed a brother through forbidden sorcery and technology. Perhaps, she thought, she had left her old life in Prague behind where she could never return to it.

Jaciel hugged her again, more firmly.

“I am sorry Luriel. When I received your message, I immediately gathered those I could and set forth. I feared the worst, for as you know… no Inferno has ever been stopped. Somehow you have managed the impossible out here.”

She looked at his twinkling eyes and smiling face. It was so good to have him here, his calm warmth bringing sanity and order to her chaotic life.

“What did he mean about it being your time?”

She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from his lips. Jaciel looked at Mathiel, and then back at her, perhaps summoning the strength to tell her.

“Not long before your call, the Ab called me to him. Abrogast praised me for my great service and wisdom, but told me that all Engel must return to the heavens. He told me my time should have already come, but he had delayed due to his selfish love for me. If I had not left to come here, I would have ascended this night.”

Blinking back tears, Luriel asked the question that had leapt into her mind.

“Did you get permission to come here?”

Jaciel shook his head.

“No, little sister. I knew that would take too much time, and that I was unlikely to be granted permission. I was supposed to be preparing myself for my return to purity. But nothing could dissuade me from coming to my Luriel if she was in need.”

Luriel smiled, her battered heart both touched and broken.

“Now, tell me of what has happened here in this city on the edge of the world?”

Luriel nodded, pushing Jaciel’s revelation of impending spiritual departure away (though Thagiel’s warnings against his doing so nagged at her) and took perch on the wooden fence to tell Jaciel her story. Mathiel listened as well, for much of the events in Vienna had transpired out of his awareness.

She told them all. She began with the attack at St. Terrell’s, for Jaciel had already heard of their journey before that night. She told of the death of Kyriel and Touriel’s mortal wounds. She spoke of Adolphus in his dying days, so focused on impossible goals, so afraid yet alive.

At the mention of Ian Longwalke, Jaciel nodded as if he recognized the name. At a pause, he commented rather matter-of-factly the agent was known to some in the Ramielite Order, for the man had managed to steal certain volumes from the library of the Himmel. Luriel looked at Mathiel in amazement at hearing this. Jaciel wanted her to continue, and she did. She spoke of their arrival in Vienna, of the first moments of the exotic environment and how it had swallowed them within its wonders.

And she told them of Thagiel.

She held nothing back, save one thing. She told them of his mad eyes, wild moods, and deep passion. She did not lie. The valley of shadows, the Arioler, the prophecy… she told it all.

Mathiel listened, blinking more and more in disbelief. He had felt out of touch with what had been happening recently, but so much had happened that he had not known.

Jaciel absorbed it all with fascination, never interrupting, his eyes full of questions but his mouth silent.

She did tell them of his mark, and of the strange inheritance he had granted her. Mathiel whistled at the idea. Jaciel, still enraptured, merely accepted it without question.

As Luriel spoke of Adolphus’s final moments, Jaciel began to seem distracted. His eyes searched some distant point. When she spoke of the dreaded word, ‘Leif’, and the supposed power it had over Thagiel, Jaciel became agitated. Something bothered him about this, but Luriel could not figure out what.

She continued, recounting her experiences with Puzo and the strange objects in Mathiel’s blood. Mathiel interrupted at this, more worried than anything. Jaciel forcibly called for him to be silent, very unlike him. His composure was gone, worry and anxiety creasing his brow. Luriel asked him what was wrong, but he would not answer.

She finished her tale, telling of the final hours before the Inferno, of the strange Rayth stone, and of the moments before it all ended- the lightning called from above.

The one thing Luriel did not speak of was her secret feelings for Thagiel… and the kiss. She did not speak of the moment their minds were joined, or of the way she had felt when she watched him. It was wrong for an Engel to have such feelings.

Jaciel nodded at the end, seeming to have re-gathered his composure. He looked up at the sky, perhaps considering her strange adventures. Mathiel, on the other hand, rubbed his head as if intoxicated by it all. He looked at Luriel with a strange regard, which troubled her. She had bared her soul to them, perhaps changing things between her and Mathiel. Had she chosen badly?

Jaciel broke the silence by speaking while he stared up at the stars.

“You know, there are a few Raguelites left. No Engel, of course, but a few monachs and begines. After the destruction of their Himmel, some stayed their course wherever they where, scattered about here and there, practicing their sacred arts. Others, well, they joined other Orders within the church, like Adolphus. Their special talents were valued by some, and they were well accepted.”

Luriel wondered if any of them would wish to know that the last Engel of their Order had fallen, but done so in the noblest way possible.

“And still, there is one last bastion of the Raguelite Order. In fair Roma Æterna there stands a fortress called the Arx, and within its walls stands the last true standard of the fallen Order. I wonder what those final masters of the lost arts will say when they learn their last winged son has passed beyond.”

Mathiel considered this, and kicked a rock with his foot. He had his own question to ask.

“Well, now what? Do we return to Prague or…?”

Luriel answered him.

“We try to help in what ways we can, and then we leave. Before that time, though, I want to ask you, Jaciel, to help me. I have been given access to the libraries here in Vienna. I have questions I want to answer about this prophecy and the things hinted at within. Will you help me?”

Jaciel considered, and then his face brightened. The prospect clearly appealed to him.

“Yes, I will help you. It may be my last act here in this world. I shall help you seek out the truths behind your mystery of words and shadow.”

[SotDX]

The girl prayed as hard as she could. She kneeled before the altar, her eyes wet with free flowing tears. She shook in silent fear, mouthing the words of her little-girl prayers. She was terrified.

She prayed for her brother and her father, for both were in terrible danger. As a child, she did not understand what was happening to them. Somehow, she could not clearly remember. She knew, though, that they were in the worst peril.

“Please, God, save them. Keep them from harm this night!”

The girl heard something above her, and looked up, wiping the wet from her cheeks. In the dark of the church’s rafters she could see a winged form, its feral eyes watching her with animal interest. The beast’s long taloned hands scratched at the wood it perched on. Somehow, distantly, the girl recognized its form. She had seen it before. She had seen it in a dream… a dream of Groten?

In confusion, the small girl tried to remember her name… and who she was. As if in answer, a black robed monach approached her from behind and leaned in next to her. He spoke to her in a hushed whisper.

“Quiet, now, Rebekah. You don’t want to awaken the sacrifice, do you?”

The girl pulled away from the monach in sudden fear, for she recognized his sinister voice. Hoffman stood up, smiling down at her. He beckoned to the altar, motioning for her to look, his face a mix of reverence and joy.

Turning, confused, the girl looked at the crucified figure behind the altar. Thagiel was nailed to the wall, his body burned and smoking, his eyes empty sockets.

Placing her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream, the girl stepped back in horror at the image before her. She heard the wings of the predator in the rafters shifting above. The black garbed arms of Hoffman closed around her in a firm embrace. Again, whispering in her ear, he spoke to her.

“Little Engel… I’m sad to say its time to fly.”

She pulled free of his grasp and ran, but found herself in the air over a city. Looking down, she realized she was in the night sky over Roma Æterna, flying blindly. She was certain of who she was, Luriel, Ramielite, Engel of Heaven. Blinking away her confusion, she became aware that something pursued her. Looking over her shoulder, she could barely make out three dark forms against the starless sky behind her.

Dreamseed here, over the sacred heart of the Engelitic Church? Impossible! Still, the dark forms grew closer, and she could almost feel their intent. They hungered for her, wanted to taste of her flesh. Fear pulled at her, but she fought it away. Flying faster, she dived and made speed to lose her pursuers in the night sky.

For a moment, she was certain she had lost them. She could not see them in the inky black around her, and she believed the Himmel was near. She would be safe in but a moment. Then she felt the first razor pain on her left ankle as something slashed at her.

Rolling in the air to dodge a repeated attack, Luriel realized she had not lost her pursuers. There were more, now no fewer than six shadow outlines, and all were upon her. She tried to fly up to evade their attacks. She still could not seem them in the darkness, but they were winged, and humanoid!

She felt the strike before it even rent her wing. She knew as it struck her that the chase was over. Then she felt the terrible pain of her wing being savaged in half by blade-like fingers. She fell from the sky, crying out in pain and terror.

There was a period of darkness, but it was no mercy. Within the darkness there was pain, suffering, and sorrow. At last, Luriel opened her eyes, and found herself in the sun. She was on a beach before a wide ocean. Her body was broken. One of her wings shredded. Trying to move brought only deep pain from around her body. Legs, broken. One arm badly twisted, bone shattered. Blood ran from her nose.

Death was close, for her wounds were severe. Turning her head slightly, she caught sight of her sword (Kyriel’s sword, her conscience reminded her). The frozen blade mentioned in prophetic riddles now lay cleaved in two, the days of its magic ended utterly.

What had happened to her? Her mind was a mess of confusing images and impressions. She vaguely recalled some awesome battle in the skies above, and the depravations of the conflict had left here in this shattered state.

Then the sky changed.

Shadows moved overhead, and the clouds started shifting as if a great wind had arisen. Raising her aching head, Luriel looked out at the ocean and saw movement. Something was on the surface of the water, and it approached.

At first she thought it to be some distant boat, perhaps some participant of the epic battle now ended. She tried to lift herself off the ground to no avail, her wounds too severe. Would a healer find her in time? If not, she would be dead from blood loss and trauma soon.

It was then the sky darkened, but not from the sun’s setting. Instead the clouds grew dark and thick, and Luriel found her gaze returning to the distant ship on the water. She now saw it was no ship.

A man walked on the surface of the water at a slow pace approaching the beach. He strode atop the waves as if they were the hard earth, his feet finding solid purchase with each step. He had grown closer in the passing minutes, but he was still too far away for Luriel to discern much.

His skin seemed dark and his head was hairless. He had a long beard in twin braids which swayed before him as he walked on the water toward her. Piercings seemed to dot his body as the fading light glinted off his torso and head. His only clothing was a black leather apron around his lower regions.

Luriel felt naked terror choke her heart at the sight of this figure. She lay helpless as he approached ever closer, the wind blowing back her hair in cold gusts. In that moment she realized she looked out over the waters of the north, and this approaching figure had walked out of the madness in the lands lost to the Lord of the Flies.

She knew at this moment she faced her own death. The walker came slowly with patience and alien regard, and when he did reach her, she knew her life would be consumed by the foulness that walked with him.

Screaming in powerless fear Luriel awoke from her nightmare. She was wet with sweat, cold as if from the northern winds of her dreamt shore. She was alone and safe in the hospital of the Raphaelites, but the dream left her feeling as far from safe as possible. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she prayed the dream was not oracular. For if it was, she had surely just witnessed her own death yet to come.

In her heart, she feared she had just seen the coming of the Lord of the Flies… and he had come especially for her.

[SotDX]

I thought it might be useful to do a short summary of the story up to this point. Since I started this back in 2004 there has been a lot of story, so both for new readers as well as long-time readers I thought this might help.

---

Quick summary of story so far:

A Fellowship (group) of Engel has traveled into enemy lands on an important and secret mission. They escorted an old teacher, and all they knew of their mission was to safely deliver him to the city of Vienna where he was to meet with a rebel Engel.

The journey was long and hard, and two Engel and several Templars (Church Soldiers) fell on the way. A strange false-priest called 'Hoffman' was encountered who possessed incredible mental powers. The three remaining Engel continued on and did at last make it to Vienna. One of the Engel was hurt by a strange night-creature and was infected
by a wasting disease.

Upon arriving in Vienna things grew darker. One of the Engel was slowly wasting away, and the Church was powerless to help him. To save her friend, the Engel Luriel, the main character in the story, had to commit heretical acts against her faith. She blended the two forbidden arts of science and sorcery to find a way to save her companion. She succeeded.

At the same time, Luriel developed an uneasy relationship with the rebel Engel, Thagiel. He introduced Luriel to a larger world in very different from what the one she had been taught. He spoke to her of prophecy and destiny.

Thagiel did one more thing. He infused Luriel with a part of his own essence, making her more than what she had been before. As part of this alteration, Luriel has exhibited strange powers and abilities not in accordance with the normal gifts of her Order of Engel.

Thagiel took Luriel to an oracle who gave her a mysterious prophecy which involved the history of her world, the origin of the great evil all in her time fear (The Lord of the Flies), and how she could end it's reign of darkness. Through all this Luriel had begun to trust the rebel Engel, but she was seemingly betrayed by him when the old teacher she had brought to Vienna fell to his death from Thagiel's high tower.

In the end, it was partly Thagiel's fault and partly beyond his control. Luriel came close to falling in love with the rebel Engel, which caused much distrust among the remains of her Fellowship.

Dark forces already at the heart of Vienna who served the Tempter (Lord of the Flies) began a ritual to summon an Inferno (a moving tower of flame) in the heart of Vienna and destroy the city. By working with Thagiel and the heretic king of the city, Luriel was able to stop the destruction of Vienna at the cost of Thagiel's life. The loss struck her terribly, and left her emotionally devastated.

Now, only a short while after the chaos has calmed, Luriel's oldest Engel friend and long mentor Jaciel has come to her side. He has promised to help her with the riddles within the prophecy, but then he must return to Prague and 'ascend' to Heaven, for his time on Earth is over. Luriel has doubts as to whether he should return and to the truth of ascension. These doubts will be addressed very soon.

As the story continues, Luriel has awoken from a set of terrible new nightmares, dreaming of a young girl who may be her at an earlier age, of being hunted in the skies over Roma Ǽterna, and finally of a dark figure approaching from the north who can walk on water. She has come to the conclusion that the figure on the waves was the Lord of the Flies in physical form.

---

Hope that helps remind long time readers and helps new readers get caught up.

Thanks for reading! As always, comments or questions are welcome.

~SotDX

[SotDX]

Having shaken off the terror of her nightmares, Luriel left the chamber in search of Jaciel and her brothers. Her head still spun from the strange images that had flashed before her… the walker on the water’s odd visage peered back at her when she closed her eyes. Surely the man was not THE Lord of the Flies, and yet she felt that somehow he was.

A begine approached her and told her with respect that the Ab wished to see her, leaving Luriel a bit stunned. The Ab was dead! Had she not died in Luriel’s arms after being stabbed by the servant of Lucius Hawthorne?

The begine explained a new acting Ab was waiting to see her, serving until the Order directed a replacement. Embarrassed, Luriel agreed to see the Ab and followed the begine to the chambers now vacated by Em Sarah.

Inside she found a surprisingly young monach with the air of a man who was uncomfortable with his place and position. He self-consciously greeted Luriel and welcomed her into the office, but Luriel noticed the subtle signs of his unease. He moved with great care and caution around the desk and shelves as if gently brushing up against them would be seen as an unspeakable crime.

Seated, he introduced himself as Brother Mathew, and apologized for not speaking with her earlier. He had been acting Ab for over a day, but in the confusion and chaos he had not had a chance to meet with her Fellowship. He added that he imagined she had been preoccupied as well.

Not sure how to take his meaning, Luriel quietly nodded, and listened while trying to gather an impression of just what Matthew’s thought of her Fellowship and its activities. How much did he know? Em Sarah’s last words had been her intent to report Luriel’s actions to Ab Abrogast. As guilty as it made her feel, part of her secretly hoped Matthew was in the dark on some matters.

“All the same, I am glad we have a chance to speak. I am aware of the great loss you suffered when Adolphus fell. You have my sympathies.”

Luriel swallowed, the mention of his name still bringing a choked sob to her throat.

“I’m not entirely sure what your relationship with Em Sarah was, but if it is acceptable to you, I do not plan to supervise your Fellowship directly. From what I understand about your role in stopping the Inferno, I think you are best suited to direct your own actions.”

At this, she was somewhat surprised. Was this his way of working up to a request? Perhaps he was fawning over her to soften her defenses.

“To be as clear as possible, I leave your Fellowship’s interests to you. You have done more to improve relations between this Hospital and the city of Vienna than my three predecessors combined. Do you have any questions? Any needs?”

Luriel blinked. She sensed no treachery or subtle trap in his words. He was honestly praising her for her actions and wanted her to have a free reign in control of her Fellowship in Vienna. Ironically, this pleased her but also diminished her opinion of Matthew. He was inexperienced, and certainly not long for the rank of Ab.

“Thank you, Brother Matthew. I appreciate your kind words, and please know that I will keep you informed of our plans all the same. We will leave Vienna, but not as yet… perhaps in a few days time.”

Leaving his chamber, Luriel went in search of Jaciel. She found him in the courtyard outside the hospital in quiet meditation. He sensed her approach and greeted her, opening his eyes.

“Luriel, we need to talk. Fly with me.”

She nodded in agreement, and he took to the air. She followed, curious as to where he would lead her. This city was foreign to him, so could any place nearby represent security to him? In answer to her question, he led her out of the city and into open fields to its north. He landed in an area not far removed from where she had greeted him upon his earlier arrival.

He stood with his back to her, resting his weight on a crumbling wooden fence. She waited for him to speak, uncertain how to break the silence. Had something happened while she had slept? At last, Jaciel spoke.

“Forgive me for drawing us out of the city, but what I wish to speak of is not for others to hear. I have considered what you have told me, both of your experiences and of the events between Thagiel and Adolphus. I feel it is time I tell you something of my own suspicions.”

Luriel nodded, and stepped closer, for she wanted to see his face when she spoke.

“You have already told me of your concerns over the decrease in Engel called.”

Jaciel shook his head.

“No, that is not what I speak of. I have a far darker concern I want to speak of.”

Luriel remembered the strange way Jaciel had stared off into space as she had spoke of Thagiel and the name, “Leif”. Perhaps he knew what power the name had held over the rebel Engel?

“Luriel, have you ever heard of the False Echoes?”

She paused, for she found the term only vaguely familiar. Then the memory returned to her. Adolphus appeared in her mind’s eye, standing before a circle of postulant Engel. They looked up at his aged face and wise eyes with wonder and love. She could hear his voice.

“Now, Engel must learn that they live on this world but for a short time. You are luminous beings only here for a temporary period, caught in base flesh in our imperfect world. All Engel must re-ascend to the Heaven Above when their time arrives, for the world will weigh upon you and corrupt you. In the time when you body has become all but human and your time is nearly over you may dream false dreams, live false lives…. We call these memories of untrue pasts the False Echoes.”

Jaciel could see the slow recognition in her eyes.

“Yes, you remember. Well, Luriel, of late I have been having False Echoes. I no longer count them as fictions.”

SPOILERS

Luriel listened, but she was guarded. It was said all Engel who grew too old in their mortal frames suffered delusions of fictive human lives. It was as if the flesh they wore fooled the Engel into remembering a mortal beginning.

“Hear me before you doubt. Of late I see myself as a boy playing with wooden toys before a fire. I see a father sleeping, his snore a quiet rumble. And I remember the soft touch of a woman… a mother… and I can taste the sweetness of her care and love.”

Jaciel hit the wooden fence in frustration.

“I know you doubt me, just as any Engel would. But listen to my words. I have searched out a village in the lands north of Prague, and there I found a place all too familiar. I landed amid its streets and houses, and I tell you- I had been there before.”

He turned to Luriel, his eyes alive with passion. He believed what he said with all of his being.

“I had not been there in any time I could remember consciously, and yet as I walked the streets and flew over the houses memories flooded me. Memories tied to that place, those shacks, those streets! These memories were no fabrications. I threw open the door to the house I knew in my heart had been mine as a child, and within the terrible darkness inside I saw myself as boy.”

Luriel began to believe, if only by small stages. Could he be right? Could the Engel have true memories of an impossible childhood? But what did it mean?

“In that empty house was a childhood filled with memories, most of joy and love with parents who were devoted to me. And then I remembered what ended my childhood.”

She knew what he would say before he said it. Grimriders.

“They came and the monach rang the bells. I remember being afraid, clutching at my mother’s leg. They were hideous, figures of nightmare. They stank of grease and blood. And they took me from my home. I remember screaming out to my weeping mother as my father closed his eyes in prayer.”

Luriel thought about this. The Grimriders were mercenary bands employed by the church to retrieve the yearly tithe from each village. The tithe was not in funds or food… but children. The children were taken from the village and given to the Church to serve as Monachs and Begines or as Templars… or so it was said. What really happened to them? How could Jaciel, an Engel of Jeramiel, remember being taken as a child?

“What does it mean, Jaciel?”

Jaciel gripped the fence, and steadied that small tremble that had plagued him of late.

“We are Engel. But we are not alone. These bodies we wear, this crude matter and flesh was once host to something else… someone else. I believe, Luriel, that the children taken by the Grimriders of our Church are used as vessels to contain our essence.”

The words died on the air. The thought was too abhorrent for Luriel.

“We are trespassers in these forms. That is why we only have a finite time here on Earth. When the bell strikes for us, the body starts to reassert its original identity. My time is running out, and so I remember a youth’s lifetime that was the rightful possessor of this flesh.”

Luriel clutched at herself. The idea was awful. Children used as clothing for Engelic essence? Could the Church be so callous?

“I can not believe they would do such a thing to children. Children are so prized in their culture, enshrined above all else as those who rebuilt the world when all adults died. How could they steal the lives of children in such numbers?”

Jaciel nodded. He had asked himself the same questions already. He had answers.

“When you fight a desperate enemy, you make desperate choices. I can not say I can explain the decisions that would lead our Church on such a path, but it seems clear to me. My mind is infected with the detritus of its previous occupant. And I think that is the power Adolphus had over Thagiel.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me that when he said the word it was as if Thagiel had been struck. Thagiel told you it was his lost name. I think it was. Adolphus knew the name of his host, and he gave it back to him.”

Luriel kneeled down, her head spinning. Hosts? Had another girl once walked in the grass in her body? The girl she dreamed of… was she the dispossessed owner of Luriel’s mortal frame?

“While I can remember fragments of a life before my time as an Engel, I can not recall the name of the host. That is lost to me, even with the surges of memory. I imagine that Thagiel was the same. But when Adolphus yelled out his name he remembered, or the flesh remembered.”

Luriel stared at her hands. If Adolphus had known Thagiel’s host’s name, that meant he knew the truth of where Engel came from. No wonder he had called her ‘little one’, for he may have known her host before she had seized it. She felt disconnected from her body, as if she had been diagnosed as an invading force in need of repulsion. How could Adolphus keep such things from her?

A question emerged in her mind.

“Jaciel, what happens to the host when we return?”

He did not reply, so she looked up at him. His face was empty.

“I do not know. Perhaps they return and live some form of life. Perhaps they are already in paradise. How could they return to this body once we have filled it with our holy essence? No… I think once we leave the body it is but an empty shell.”

[SotDX]

“It seems clear to me that you must refuse to be purified until we understand these mysteries with greater clarity!”

Jaciel shook his head, but Luriel refused to relent. She could not lose him.

“No, I will be purified. It is for the best. But let us not dwell on the matter now. I am more concerned with the prophecy you spoke of last night. I want to see it again, and more closely consider its strange turns of phrase.”

“Jaciel… please, you can not leave. We have to understand the truth before you pass on.”

Jaciel smiled, his face expressing both his love for his sister, and his great exhaustion.

“I admit it’s hard for me to leave mysteries unsolved, but it is my time. To be honest, I am ready for the next world. I have grown tired of the death and carnage littering this one. I have fought for man and watched too many good Engel be ripped apart in the jaws of evil. I am ready for Heaven.”

She could see it was impossible to try and dissuade him, but she decided she would not give up yet. Perhaps if she could convince Viktor Constance to give Jaciel safe harbor, she could then convince the Engel to stay. In her desperation to keep him alive and away from the fate which Thagiel warned her against, she believed there was some chance of changing his mind.

“One thing is certain, though, my sister. You have a great mystery waiting to be unraveled in this prophecy you were given. I wish to consider this further if you are willing.”

Luriel pulled forth her journal where she had transcribed the arioler’s words, and together they slowly read through each phrase. After reading it through completely, he touched his finger to his lips and nodded.

[NOTE: YOU CAN READ THE ENTIRE PROPHECY HERE (http://forum.rpg.net/showthread.php?t=167229&page=5&pp=10) IN "Part XLIII: The shadowed valley"]

“One thing, Luriel… it is a message of hope. Whether it is all fantasy or does contain some truth, it is a prediction of an end to the Fear-Lord’s domain on the world. Now these first few stanzas, regarding the history… that we will have to examine closer. I must say I am concerned with the suggestion of a connection between the Lord of the Flies and the Pontifex. The science in this… well, this is all very heretical. I know you have told some of your Fellowship of this, but I advise against telling any others. This is dangerous. If these words reached certain ears…”

“I know. I realize how heretical it is. I can not even say I believe it is true. All I know is there is a power in it, and I want to know if there is a meaning behind its riddles.”

“I understand. Believe me, I understand. Do what you can to get it into the libraries here and together we shall seek out your hidden meanings.”

Alone, Luriel visited the palace, and was escorted to Viktor’s chamber. A pall had overtaken the chambers, the faces of the guards and aides seemed distraught and downcast. Viktor appeared distracted, but greeted Luriel and granted her (and Jaciel) full access to the archives of Vienna. Sensing it was not right to pry, Luriel decided against asking the Satrap about the darkened humor of his halls.

She did ask Sebastian, the aide who had assisted her when she had first arrived in the city, and he gave her a guarded explanation. It seemed something had happened to Elizabetha when she had been stolen away by Hawthorne. She was safe now, but her injuries were more severe than any had realized before.

Luriel wanted to press, but she could sense Sebastian’s unease on the subject and thought of Jaciel waiting for her. Leaving her unspoken questions behind, she flew forth and with Jaciel landed before the great library of Vienna.

The building was enormous and opulent with large stone depictions of creatures glaring down from the roof. Together the two Engel walked up the long steps to the great double doors of the library. The few people on the streets stared at the winged visitors as they entered.

Inside the chamber was three stories high and filled with shelves upon shelves of books. As Ramielites, both Luriel and Jaciel had been regular fixtures within the sacred library of the Himmel in Prague, which dwarfed even this preserve of the written word. Despite that, the roguish quality of entering the library of the heretics gave Luriel a dangerous thrill. Were the words she would find here truly dangerous? Perhaps she was subjecting herself to the corrosive influence of evil thoughts.

A librarian greeted the Engel, but it was clear he was alarmed and concerned at their presence. Luriel explained who she was and that Viktor had given her his leave, but the portly librarian stopped her and explained that he knew who she was.

He explained there were few in the city who did not know of the Ramielite who had come to fight beside “the martyr Engel, blessed Thagiel, he who gave his life for us all.” Somewhat disturbed at his words, Luriel thanked him and explained they were both trained in the art of research and would need little if any assistance.

At once the two Engel began their search of musty tomes and old books. They searched references that acted as listings of preserved documents in other parts of the archives. They poured through books written in the time since the floods, dating from the early days of the First Crusade.

Quietly, with whispered words and projected thought they shared their impressions. The guide for their exploration into the forbidden past was the prophecy laid between them on the cold wooden table. Their first victory was on the mystery in the prophecy’s reference to a “Christian”.

The Christian brought fire
And ash to the world
An inferno of flame
Before the Beacons of gleam

Jaciel found a reference in a history of the times-before to President James Christian Thomas, the last president of the land called “United States”. They both remembered from the history they had been taught that some terrible war had been fought with much devastation. More importantly, the stanza continued:

A hand compelled
Quick to end itself
In the light of an ashen day

What compelled him? Luriel found a fragment of an article stating that a suicide note had been left by President Thomas referencing “Voices in the Dark”. According to the note, he did not understand why he had ordered a nuclear strike, but that voices from the darkness had engulfed him with naked fear.

Both Jaciel and Luriel were reminded of Fra Domenico’s description of his own temptations in the darkness. Could the Lord of the Flies have something to do with the actions of a president dead since 2093? The Dreamseed did not appear until hundreds of years later!

Moving backwards in the prophecy, Luriel tried to find some explanation of the odd statements regarding Shadows and Serpents. The Serpent was mentioned first in the line:

And a Serpent, beneath Banito, born of mind

Searching in old maps she tried to find some reference of where such a city (if it was a city) would have been located in the distant 21st century. Jaciel in turn located in a tattered omnibus of records a reproduced Italian newspaper article. Translating for his companion, he read the words to her.

It seemed that in 2075 in Banito, Italy, many residents were forced to move and sell their homes due to demands by the government. The piece seemed to be a work of opinion railing against the rampant corruption present in the bureaucracy of the old world’s way. Still, the mention of Banito made Luriel ponder if there was more to this village in Italy than immediately apparent. Was it normal for the government to force people to move, or was something being hidden from public view?

The two Engel were only dimly aware of his presence, but a second librarian had begun watching them. Quietly he observed their actions and listened as best he could to their whispers. To the untrained eye he was a citizen of Vienna and an archivist. In truth, he was much more. The Engelitic Church kept a close eye on the activities of its neighbors, Vienna included.

At once another mystery was resolved when Luriel connected the reference in another line of the prophecy and a common belief. It was widely believed the first expression of the Vitus Dance, the plague that had decimated the world three times, had first manifested in what then was Ingolstadt, Germany. The line in question was:

Murder at the city on the blue Danube

Still, murder was an odd choice of phrase when referring to the beginning of a plague, unless it was planned and engineered. The belief at the time seemed to be that Arab terrorists had been responsible, resulting in the destruction of much of the Middle East at the hands of suicidal President Thomas. Still, the prophecy seemed to make a link between something escaping those hunting it and a murder.

Delving further into the mysteries with stacks of books around them, the two Engel quietly leafed through pages each in their own private world. Ramielites are often characterized as being easily lost in their private spaces, and neither of the two Engel did anything to disprove that claim.

Luriel found a strange entry regarding a mass suicide roughly a decade before the outbreak of the first plague. In a small village in northern France a group of ten children committed suicide and left an odd note. The article read as follows:

The police found the mixed group of boys and girls in a circle each having cut their own throat. Each reportedly cut a date into his or her right palm, Jan 11 2093. A single suicide note was found in the center of their circle of death, which read, “The burning Lord of Fear has come. The fires of dread will burn; the tears of heaven will drown; God forgive us.” Locals report the children showed no signs of psychological problems but the emergence of millennial cults is considered a distinct possibility as a cause of their actions.

Luriel gasped while reading the message from the long dead children. This was ten years before the plague began, and yet the exact date of the outbreak was predicted. This was years before the Beacons or the Infernos would appear, before the floods, and hundreds of years before any Dreamseed. How did the children know what was to come? Had they seen something in 2083 that no one else could imagine? It did seem to give credence to the idea that the Lord of the Flies predated the plague.

She raised her head from her book to tell Jaciel of her new find, for he was lost in his own thoughts. Before she spoke, though, a new voice entered her mind. A feminine Engelic voice ordered her brusquely to exit the library without attracting attention and come to the roof. Alone.

Luriel considered alerting Jaciel, but her instincts told her to comply with the orders. Telling Jaciel to wait for her and not to ask questions, she quickly left the vaulted chamber of words and history and flew up to its roof. There, amid the spitting figures of hideous design and spires of old-world embellishment she found a scowling Engel waiting.

The Engel wore Ramielite robes, but they were darker and somehow felt ominous. A large black sword hung at her hip, an uncommon weapon for the scholars of the Engelic Orders. With gentle voice Luriel introduced herself, hoping her winged visitor did not present a threat. The unpleasant Engel seemed unmoved by her niceties and ordered her to be silent.

“I know who you are, Luriel. I am here in this city of heretics because of you.”

The words came out of her mouth with spite and venom, as if she hated Vienna and all of its many non-believers. This was not unexpected for an Engel, but it left Luriel off-balance. She had come to love this strange city.

“Why have you come, then?”

The Engel smiled coldly, and explained.

“I am Magdiel, Sword of the Ramielite Order. Do you know what a Sword is?”

Luriel knew, though only through whispered rumors. It was not taught by any nonnus, something never explained to any postulant. Still, there was an unspoken certainty in the halls of the Himmel that a certain faction of Ramielites existed solely to watch over their brothers and sisters. As the Engel of Jeramiel were uniquely blessed with the gift of literacy and thus exposed to dangerous influences, they policed their own with a harsh discipline towards signs of unorthodoxy or heretical thought. Some whispered (when they hoped no one listened) that the Swords could read the thoughts of any Engel without warning.

“I do, Magdiel. Have I committed a crime?”

Magdiel took this as challenge, and her scowl returned.

“Can you be such a fool as to not know?”

The words stung, but Luriel had grown beyond taking such simple baits. There had been a time when her pride would not allow her to bite back foolish words. That was in the past.

“Then I may be a fool, sister. Please, tell me what sins I have performed so I make seek contrition and forgiveness before the Lord.”

Magdiel snorted, not believing Luriel for a moment. She stepped closer, her size dwarfing the smaller Engel.

“Need I remind you of your jaunt into the Cathedral of Thought? You are but a young Engel with no right or gift to allow such a journey. It was forbidden that you entered into our sacred place before your time. Do you deny your actions?”

For a moment she considered denying it, but decided it was no use. If Magdiel could read her mind, the truth was evident. And even if she could not, many Ramielites had witnessed her accidental exploration. Perhaps the nature of how she had come to be there was her best defense.

“It is true; I did come to be in the Cathedral of Thought in a false way. But believe me when I say it was by no choice of my own. I found myself there through no volition of my own.”

Magdiel’s eyes narrowed at Luriel’s claim. The Sword was concerned with purity more than truth, and yet when she peered into the shadowy place behind the Engel’s eyes she found no deceit. Somehow this nigh-postulant had found a means of entry into their Order’s most sacred chambers by accident!

“Tell me how this came to be.”

Now Luriel worried. Mentioning the heretical experiments that Thagiel had performed on himself (and she had blundered into) with his chair and engines was unthinkable. Surely Magdiel would not understand. Her instincts told her any mention of Thagiel was a bad idea to begin with, for from there questions might lead to the feelings she had held for the hated rebel.

Magdiel sensed her reluctance, and grew more angered. She reached out her hand to Luriel as if to touch her, but merely grasped at the open air between them closing her eyes in concentration. Peering into the suspect Engel’s mind the Sword could see glimpses of the desired truth.

“I can see… electricity… yes, somehow electricity was used in unspeakable ways to propel you into the Cathedral… yes… a machine was used… a machine that He built…”

Luriel could feel the alien presence in her mind. If felt as if something was pulling at the base of her consciousness, a nagging presence that was both invader and thief. Trying to shake it off, she felt a strange sensation and heard a young boy’s voice.

“Yes, Rebekah, it’s ok to question. I think it reassures our faith.”

In confusion Luriel glared at Magdiel, thinking that somehow the Sword had drawn forth the strange memory. The Sword in turn lowered her arm and opened her eyes, having gathered what she wanted from the suspected impure Engel.

“I know what has transpired here in Vienna. Do not think it will be kept from the Ab’s ear.”

Luriel nodded, her head vaguely sore from the stress of Magdiel’s probe. The return of the name “Rebekah” also made her uneasy, off-balance. Had the Sword heard the boy’s words?

“I warn you, if you continue to step outside your prescribed role, there will be… consequences.”

The words were spoken with menace and dark implications. Luriel merely nodded, crossing her arms in a futile attempt to regain her balance and composure. She felt unclean before the Sword, and wretched to be part of an Order that spied so invasively on its own. After a deep breath, Luriel tried to defend herself.

“If you have read my mind then you know what we have faced here in the lands foreign to we Engel. I did only what I had to do to save my brothers and our mission. If I have made mistakes, then so be it. I accept them.”

The Sword scowled down one last time at Luriel.

“You may accept them, but the rest of us will not. Without purity only darkness can thrive. Beware the Tempter for he walks in what would seem wisdom. Fail to heed my warning at your own peril, sister Luriel. If we meet again, it will be a meeting of sorrow. And remind Jaciel that his time on this world is spent.”

Before Luriel could reply the Engel turned and flew into the sky, leaving Luriel alone and uncomfortable. She returned to the library and found Jaciel hunched over more volumes. He sensed her distress as she approached and looked up from the tomes with concern.

“What is it?”

“A Sword has come to Vienna to warn me against my crimes.”

Jaciel turned grave and moved to hold his sister close. He said comforting words and managed to pull up a chair for her. Once she was sitting, she explained further. She told him what the Sword had said about the Cathedral, and of the indictment of her actions.

“I was there when you entered the Cathedral. We do not take intrusions into our place of all knowledge lightly. I was worried it was you who had entered, but I did not think it possible.”

“Have there been other intruders? I would think that entering there unwanted was impossible. Well, my own exploit notwithstanding.”

Jaciel nodded.

“Yes, there is a story about an intruder who managed to break into the Thought-Palace and steal knowledge. It was some years ago, if I remember correctly. I believe the thief was called Maetoth.”

At the mention of the figure from her dreams Luriel looked up in alarm.

“You look as if you have seen a ghost! But tell me, how did you manage to enter the Cathedral?”

“There is something else I have to tell you. She… she wanted me to remind you that you must return.”

“She knew I was here?”

Jaciel seemed worried at the thought of the Sword mentioning him.

“I understand. Now tell me how you managed to enter the Cathedral!”

Luriel told Jaciel of the chair and the power of electricity that Thagiel had harnessed, of the arcane way in which it seemed he could amplify and expand the potestates of an Engel. Jaciel’s eyes grew wide and excited at the concept.

“He found a way to make Engel stronger!? This could change the world. Imagine postulants as strong as the most wise and experienced Engel. This could change the war against the Dreamseed!”

Luriel shook her head and told him the machine had been destroyed along with all of Thagiel’s notes. As she related the destruction of the tower in the short-lived Inferno, her forehead began to tingle and Jaciel looked up from her eyes to the top of her head.

“You… you have a mark on your forehead. I believe it is the triple-crown of the thrice-tempted.”

Luriel nodded.

“Yes. When he infused me with some of his essence this mark was left at the point of transference. Now when I think of him or use the gifts he left within me the mark returns.”

“I warn you Luriel, while I am understanding… others are not. You must be careful to keep that mark undiscovered. None would understand. None!”

Luriel smiled at him as the mark faded away. He did not suspect her of corruption or temptation, but only worried for her safety. He was her brother, and he was her friend. Rising, she told him that their time searching the books would need to end and they should return to the monastery.

“My Fellowship will be worried if we do not return soon.”

Jaciel nodded, shutting the books laid out around the table and retrieved the transcribed prophecy. As Luriel watched him gathering his things, she felt the strange sensation pass over her again. She did not feel a pull at her mind, but a sense of remembering something long forgotten. The voice of the young boy returned.

“Don’t fear the shadows, sister. They only hide the future. Come with me into the hidden places and I will hold your hand.”

Leaning on the shelves, Luriel realized with unmistaken certainty: she was hearing the voice of her brother. How she knew was unclear. Still, there was no question in her mind, the voice was that of her human brother.

[SotDX]

Before returning to the monastery the two Engel flew back to the palace. Luriel wanted to thank Viktor for allowing them entry, and the thought of trying to find some means of keeping Jaciel from purification kept nagging at her.

The two Engel entered the palace and were greeted by Sebastian. It was clear that the mood of the place had not changed, and Jaciel inquired what was wrong. Sebastian looked pointedly at Luriel, and then answered in a hushed voice.

“When poor Lady Elizabetha was stolen away by the black-hearted Hawthorne, she was not treated in a civil way… if you take my meaning.”

Jaciel nodded, but Luriel was still confused. She started to ask Sebastian to explain further but Jaciel stopped her. Excusing himself, Sebastian hurried off to check on his Lord.

“Well, Jaciel, are you going to explain this to me or leave me in the dark like everyone else seems to enjoy?”

Jaciel shook his head gravely.

“I will explain. Are you aware of the act of love than humans perform between a man and woman?”

Luriel nodded, not sure what this had to do with whatever was wrong with Elizabetha. In truth, she had only the vaguest understanding of the mysteries of male and female relationships in the mortal world. All she knew she had read in her books.

“That act, which is reserved for loving union and procreation… it can be misused.”

Luriel considered this. How could one misuse something the Lord had provided? She realized it was a foolish question. All through time mankind misused their most sacred gift: free will.

“In some cases it is misused in a savage and hateful way with the intent to harm and hurt the victim of the act. In the common tongue the crime is named ‘rape’.”

“I think I understand, Jaciel. Are her wounds merely physical then? Surely Gavriel or Cassiel could heal any injuries inflicted on her genitive organs?”

Jaciel frowned. He struggled with how to explain. In some ways, the young Engel were so inexperienced and naïve of the horrors of the world. They had not yet had the ‘pleasure’ of facing the brutality of man directly.

“I’m afraid her wounds are likely more deep than physical. Such a harm is not of the flesh, but of the mind and spirit. No Raphaelite has arts that can heal such a wound. No Engel living, either.”

“You say no Engel living. Do you suggest that one of the fallen orders had a gift in that regard? I would think neither the warrior Samaelites nor the techwatcher Raguelites had such a gift.”

Perhaps if the Raguelites had once held such a power, she might have it as an inheritance from lost Thagiel.

Jaciel smiled, sensing her hopes. All Luriel could see was the possibility of helping someone in need. Her open heart was generous, but he was afraid that someday her want to help anyone in need would become a liability.

“It was the warrior Samaelites I speak of, lost these hundred years behind the Brandland surrounding Corsica. It is rumored that some among Gabriel’s sibling order had strange gifts of healing and not war. While the vast majority of the Order was bent on martial acts, a few looked inward and found gifts far and away the opposite of their brothers.”

“Perhaps it was not unlike the Raphaelite healers who turn from healing and learn to inflict harm.”

At the thought her hand raised to the faint scar still visible on her cheek.

“Yes, mayhaps. Of course, I have heard rumors that the Samaelites in their final days found means to even stranger potestates. I believe there is a now-scandalized scholar who was working on a treatise on that very mystery, though now that he is excommunicated and hunted I doubt he will finish-”

Jaciel was interrupted as Sebastian hurried towards them both. He seemed alarmed and concerned. He seized hold of Luriel’s arm and implored her to help.

“Viktor will see no one. I am so worried. I think the loss of Thagiel and the injury to his love is too much for him. He is blaming himself! Please, try and speak with him. I beg you!”

Luriel was uncertain if such was wise. Why her? Sebastian explained that he felt only Thagiel’s Engel ally could soothe his Lord’s pain. She looked at Jaciel and he gave her a guarded shrug leaving the decision to her.

“I will go to the Satrap.”

Entering the City-Lord’s chamber alone, Luriel found the lights extinguished save for one lantern. Viktor sat on the steps of his dais holding a pistol. He did not look up at Luriel as she approached.

When she was only a few steps from him Viktor raised his head and stared at her. His eyes were empty and dead, devoid of feeling. Luriel knew the look. She had seen it in her vision of Adolphus leaping to his death. She knew she had to take the gun. She would not let another die when she could save him.

As Luriel knelt down slowly, Viktor lowered his head. The gun was not pointed at him, but held casually in his right hand as if on display. Still, she knew of his skill with the weapons of the old world. If he wanted, he could shoot him or her with but a flick of his wrist.

She reached out tentatively and placed her hands around the gun. She felt his arm tense slightly, but he did not resist. With slow care she pulled the weapon out of his fingers and sat it in her lap.

In silence she sat there watching the ruler of Vienna. What could she say to him? His grief was his own. She shared in the loss of Thagiel, but she had fully understood the relationship between Viktor and Thagiel. Were they just lord and liege, friend and confidant, or brothers? After what seemed an eternity, he finally spoke.

“Why?”

She opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to respond. Her instinct told her it was best to listen and not speak. He needed to express his pain, not have it explained to him.

“Why does the Lord of the Flies do these things? Why must he destroy and ravage our world?”

He lowered his head and sobbed. Despite her original misgivings against doing more than listening, she felt compelled to speak.

“I once asked Thagiel the same question. He told me the Lord of the Flies does these things because it lived, and it wished to die. It was afraid to die. This is its struggle against existence. This is its lashing out against the world of beauty, life, and peace.”

Viktor shook his head. He didn’t understand. How could he? Mindless brutality had been visited on his home, and the face of the savage was hard to countenance.

“He was like a brother to me. Do you know that? I was only a boy when he came into my world. My father accepted him with understanding and compassion. Sometimes I think we were almost the same age.”

Luriel smiled.

“He cared for you greatly, Viktor. He cared for this city and its people. He chose his death for a reason. I… well I guess it will not hurt to tell you. I had developed feelings for him also. He seemed so wise and mysterious, and still I felt the pain and confusion in him. I was entranced by him at first, and then came to care for him deeply. I only knew him for a few days, but he made me feel like I had known him my entire life. He changed me.”

It was Viktor’s turn to smile.

“What I will miss most about him was his laughter. I can see from your expression you did not experience his warm laugh. It is a pity, for he laughed rarely and even less often the last few years. Still, his laugh was infectious and warm on cold days.”

Viktor looked at the pistol in Luriel’s lap.

“Did you think I was going to hurt myself?”

Luriel shook her head.

“But I did not want to risk it. You were obviously terribly upset. I could not let you do something to yourself.”

Viktor stood, brushing his robes. He took the weapon back from her and holstered it.

“Viktor, I came here to thank you for allowing Jaciel and I to enter the archives. They proved most useful and you have my deepest thanks. I found it most liberating to be given full access to a library for a change.”

Viktor nodded and chuckled.

“Thagiel said the same thing to my father not long after he came to join us.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Luriel seized the moment and made her plea.

“Viktor, Jaciel is of the age of purification. He has been called back to Prague so he can be sent to Heaven. I have misgivings about his going, for Thagiel warned me against letting my friend go. I humbly ask you give him leave to stay here under your protection.”

Viktor considered this. His face grew serious.

“This is no small matter. Still, we are without Engel here in Vienna. Yes, your friend has leave to stay within our walls. Nothing will be asked of him unless he wishes to serve us as Thagiel once did.”

Luriel was relieved. Now if she could only convince Jaciel to stay!

“So Thagiel warned you against letting Jaciel be purified? I am not surprised. He had a deep distrust of the church that grew over the years. One might even call it paranoid, if it hadn’t been proven with the assassination attempts. He once told me a secret of the Engel. Let me see if I can remember his words? Yes… he said, ‘it is all too easy to brainwash minds wiped clean. The masters keep their power through the power of lies and false identity.’ I never did fully understand his meaning, but as you know… he could be cryptic at times.”

Luriel smiled and nodded, but inside she considered the words. Did it refer to the hosts wiped clean by the Engelic presences? How did the Church rule by the power of lies?

[SotDX]

Jaciel read in Luriel eyes what had transpired inside the chamber. He gently touched her arm, and smiled at her.

“You helped him.”

He said it as a statement of fact. She considered, and then nodded. She was not certain how close to the edge Viktor had come, but she worried for him. There was a preying darkness in the world that called out to those in despair and fear. The idea that a great man such a Viktor Constance could become tempted… it was too horrible to imagine.

“I did my best.”

“I imagine he helped you as much as you helped him.”

The two Engel slowly walked down the halls of the quieting palace. Luriel prepared herself to present the option of staying in Vienna. She was concerned she already knew what his answer would be, but she held firm in her resolve to try. It was not merely because of Thagiel’s warning. Something inside told her that a terrible fate would happen to Jaciel if she left him return to Prague.

Delaying, she decided to converse on a different subject first. She had yet to tell Jaciel (or anyone but Mathiel) about the strange metallic case she had found in the dark beneath Vant. In an empty corner of the palace Luriel shared with Jaciel the details of how she had been commanded to find the case by what she thought was their Archangel, Jeramiel.

“He spoke to you!?”

Jaciel had only heard the voice of Jeramiel once, the time when all Engel heard the sonorous tones of the High Engel of their Order. Upon their arrival on Earth from the long descent from Heaven, the Archangel would speak to the newly enfleshed. The words were half-remembered, but he still clung to the feeling of those tones after his long ten years of life.

Luriel continued. She told of seeing the place where she would find the case. She added one more thing.

“The Archangel told me that this might decide the war against the Lord of the Flies.”

Again, Jaciel expressed his surprise and disbelief. She told him of the strange vials inside, and that with the abilities she had gained from Thagiel she had discerned you could inject the vials into your body.

Jaciel listened to this all without further comment. His brow furrowed when she finished, and he tried to think of some advice or guidance to give her. This was unheard of. No Archangel spoke to his or her charges in such a way. This was some product of lost technology, heretical and evil in the eyes of the Lord. How could such a thing be the end of the Dreamseed?

“Alright. This is what you do.”

He leaned in closely, his face mere inches from Luriel’s.

“You tell no one else. You keep it close at all times. You wait and listen for another sign, some guidance on how to use it. The only living Raguelite who might have been able to guide us on this is gone. All that remains are those in Roma, but I do not know if you can trust them.”

Luriel nodded.

“So you agree that I should not report this to Ab Abrogast?”

She knew as she asked the question that the answer was obvious. It was against every fiber of an Engel’s being to hide the truth from their Ab. Engel were creatures of truth and light. Deceit was anathema.

“Yes. I do suggest just that.”

His words filled Luriel with a new hope. If Jaciel had reached a point where he held such distrust for the masters of the church, then surely he would agree to stay here… to not return.

“I want to ask you to do something, Jaciel. Something that is very unusual.”

Jaciel looked out at Vienna as the sun set.

“Yes?”

“I have asked Viktor if you could… I mean he has given his leave for you to…”

Jaciel turned, curious.

“Yes?”

Her throat became dry, but she continued undaunted.

“I want you to say here in Vienna. They have granted you asylum.”

Jaciel smiled, now understanding her unease. Luriel misinterpreted the response, and felt a wave of relief.

“I will not stay. I am already expected in Prague. I have exceeded my allotment of time on this world and have to move on. You know this. There can be no denying it.”

Her relief was replaced with sudden panic. He was refusing! She had to convince him.

“But you have so much left to do… to learn! They need someone like you here. Think of the good you could do for these people, the bridges you could build between the Church and Vienna!”

He just shook his head with calm detachment. His gentle response only served to fuel her desperate need to change his mind.

“Something is wrong. If you go back… I think something awful might happen to you. We already know they are lying to us about some things. Who knows what else?”

Jaciel reached out and held the trembling Engel, almost a child with wings, and told her ‘no’ softly.

“I am an Engel. Whatever may be wrong in the Church or in our world, I must serve my nature. It is my time to return to the High. Let no more be said of it.”

The two fly, and Luriel pushed her dread back into the dark places in her heart. She knew there would be no convincing him, but she tried her best. In her conflicted state she found herself landing in her old chamber in the apartments provided for the Fellowship when they first arrived. Her few things were still here, as was the case.

She spent a moment showing the case to Jaciel, and he inspected the vials, adding little. He repeated his warnings, stressing that she must wait for her Archangel to guide her. Luriel walked into Adolphus and Rythe’s chamber with a heavy heart. She imagined she could still catch a hint of his musty scent as she walked into the empty room. Jaciel could feel her pain.

“He will be sorely missed.”

Luriel did not hear his words for she realized Adolphus’s things were gone. His satchel, chest, and journal were nowhere to be found! Looking around, she searched for any sign of his missing possessions. Her things had still been in her chamber. Rythe’s few possessions were absent as well.

She relaxed as it occurred to her they must have been sent on to the monastery. The Fellowship had nearly moved into the Raphaelite hospital, so it made sense some of their items had been transported there as a courtesy. Sighing, she told Jaciel she was ready to return to the Hospital.

“Well, it is good you go back to your Fellowship. They need you, just as you need them. It is time for me to go. I shall return to Prague.”

Luriel fought back the panic, and calmly suggested he rest and mediate tonight. The journey would be safer and clearer in the light of a morning sun.

“Alright. But then I must go.”

The terrible moment of separation forestalled, the two flew together to the Raphaelite Hospital. Luriel caught herself gazing at Jaciel’s proud face and wide wings. For a moment she could see Thagiel there in his place. Thagiel had been Jaciel’s age when he had been tempted.

Forcing herself to look ahead, Luriel flew into the cooling night with Jaciel one last time.

[SotDX]

Luriel spent time with her Fellowship, the three Engel together in the quiet chamber. She told them a little of what she and Jaciel had learned, but mostly she just enjoyed being with them. In their presence it was almost possible, if only barely, to forget the loss and chaos of the past week. She felt close to them. They were family.

This realization made what she had to say to them all the more difficult.

“We should prepare ourselves for the inevitable. The Church may separate us upon our return to Prague. The failure of our mission will reflect badly on us, and for that reason we are likely to be split off into other Fellowships.”

Mathiel grunted in disgust. Cassiel sighed. The Raphaelite argued against the idea.

“How can you say that? Did we not fulfill our duty?”

Luriel shook her head. How could he ask that? Adolphus had died despite their protection.

“But Luriel, what really was our mission? All I remember was that we were to safeguard Adolphus on his journey here. We could not protect him while he was alone with Thagiel. It was not our mandate to do so.”

She stopped and considered this. Perhaps he had a point.

“You may be right, Cassiel. Perhaps the Ab and Pontifex will see it that way. It was not our instruction to involve ourselves in the negotiations with Thagiel. To be honest, I do not think any of us here were given the full perspective on what our mission truly was to accomplish. Only Touriel knew the full details…”

The others nodded grimly. Perhaps they would never know why they had been sent to Vienna. What was it Adolphus was trying to acquire? Did he die in vain?

Mathiel pressed the point further, and suggested that instead of receiving the displeasure of the Church, they might find a much more positive reception in Prague. Had not Luriel stopped an Inferno and saved a city? Surely that was worthy of honor and accord in the halls of the Engelitic Church. No one in the history of the world had ever stopped an Inferno! She had accomplished a miracle.

“No, Mathiel. It is not my miracle to claim. I did not stop the Inferno. Thagiel should have that honor. He sacrificed himself to save the people of Vienna. In a way… I think he sacrificed himself for all people.”

The mention of his name brought forth a moment of silence between them. In the quiet, while others slept, the three Engel whispered of the ceremony in the dead Engel’s honor. It was to be in the morning, and the Satrap had invited them to be present.

Cassiel said he had heard Isabella would be present and supposedly wished to present Luriel with a token of gratitude for saving her. With a worried frown Luriel considered what kind of gift the dangerous Comtessa might give. At last sleep pulled the three from their shared words and their eyes closed to the world.

And in sleep, all three Engel dreamed.

Mathiel slept with a heaviness derived from his recent fight with a strange plague. His dreams were choked with shadowed corners and fleeting predators with cutting teeth. A deeper ill wove its path through his slumber, nestled gingerly in buried form. A voice of silken words reverberated in his hidden places, threatening to call him ever deeper. It was a voice that had haunted him before, and would come to haunt him again.

Cassiel, sadly, relived the awakening of his twisted gift. Again and again he cried out in horror as the power lashed out- his healing driven to wound. The gash on Thagiel, the slash on Luriel… within his self-torments his own guilt befouled his sleep with the slow tortures of untold victims. In his unsteady rest he found himself a weapon of war on a battlefield of lies.

Luriel out-dreamed them all, but that was to be expected. She was the visionary of the three. There were no dreams of darkness in her mind this night. Instead, she found herself soaring through a clear sky of deep blue. An island beckoned below her, one of beauty and wilderness.

She found herself reveling in the simple joys of the wind, the natural vista before her of light and wonder. Sadly, the garden was not unbesmirched. A shadow fell across the island she passed over, one which surrounded it on all sides. In every direction a brandland encircled the Island of Beauty.

Something stood against the shadow and flame that threatened this perfection. In the distance, Luriel saw the unclouded sun glint off a tower of brilliant white. A Himmel stood here, on this island lost behind Inferno’s passing.

Through the logic of dreams Luriel found herself at once in the Himmel, standing in its center chambers. It was unlike any Himmel she had seen (but in truth she had only seen two). Windows stood open in all directions letting a strong ocean breeze blow her hair. Before her she found floating a shaft of blue steel suspended in the air. Light shined down from an opening bathing it in the warmth of the sun.

The wind grew in strength as she started to approach the floating object. A voice whispered to her so softly she wondered if she might have imagined it. It spoke through the wind pushing against her from the open portals to the Island outside.

“We fought the darkness…”

“We walked in dreams…”

“We fought for our isle, but we lost…”

Luriel looked around for the source, and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed the spectral forms of winged beings fading in and out.

“Who are you?”

Only the wind answered her, so she stepped closer to the floating shaft of steel. It seemed to burn brighter as she approached, and a sudden warmth passed over her. As she stepped back in alarm the circle of light around the shaft burst into flames.

The whispers returned, hidden in the crackles of the fire, with a final message.

“You will come back to us… first through riddle, second through history, finally through light.”

At once the fire burned too bright, and Luriel stumbled back out of one of the windows and started to fall from the Himmel. Her wings refused to unfurl and she plummeted to the far ground below.

Then a most unusual thing happened.

[SotDX]

Each had dreamed a dream of his or her own. Mathiel had dreamed of being the prey of night’s children. Cassiel had seen his worst fears realized. And Luriel… she had been given a gift of truth.

Now a most unusual thing happened. Each found themselves together in a shared dream. All three were on Maetoth’s ship on the golden Dream-sea. The two moons hung in the sky, and Luriel marveled that all three of them had no wings and stood as human children. Cassiel and Mathiel were alarmed, searching for weapons that had not made the journey with them. And then Maetoth stood before them.

“Children, I have brought you here to give you a gift. I think Luriel has told you of me. I am the old fool some call Maetoth. Other’s hold cruder names for me. I have little time and must be brief. The Fear Lord had chosen to come for me, and will be here soon.”

All three Engel were alarmed at this, searching the horizon for signs of Dreamseed. The strange golden waters seemed endless, leading off in unbroken infinity in all directions. Maetoth chuckled at the searching eyes before him.

“You will not see their approach. Just believe me when I say my time here is short. You have proven yourselves as a Fellowship of souls bounded by love and trust. I give you this boon in accordance with that which you have already demonstrated. I give you the gift of communication.”

As he spoke three golden disks left his outstretched hand and glided to the foreheads of each Engel. The shining circles of light touched on their brows and then vanished into them. Each felt a sudden burst of feeling pass through them, and a strange communion began between them as they felt each others sensations.

The reverie of this strange ecstasy was ended suddenly. Dark clouds of smoke with tendrils of Dreamseed appeared close on all sides. The sound of an approaching Inferno shattered the moment of connection the three felt.

“Maetoth, what can we do? Can we not help you? You must flee!”

Maetoth pulled back his hooded cowl and smiled at Luriel with his large eyes.

“Luriel, all is as it should be. My time is not forever. No one’s is. You should know that. Do not worry over me. Worry over the blue steel wringed in flame. Worry over the shield forged by light. Seek the answers lost by man in this age of deceit.”

All three felt themselves moving away from the boat and Maetoth, moving in a way only possible when leaving a dream. Things became distant and indistinct without any sensation of physical change. Calling out to Maetoth, Luriel reached for him. The Arioler had died as punishment for telling her the truth. Must Maetoth suffer the same fate? Maetoth crossed his arms and merely shouted back as the shared dream ended.

“Do not forget what you have been given. Seek the Wanderer!”

The last image all three awoke with was that of thousands of Dreamseed spiraling down over the ship on the Dream-sea. Maetoth never screamed, he merely awaited his fate with steady patience.

All three sat up, rubbing at their eyes.

“Did… did we just share a dream?”

There was a new sensation each felt for the first time. All had felt confusion and wonder before, but they had never felt the emotions emanate from their fellows. Each could sense what the other was feeling, if only dimly. Luriel could sense Mathiel’s disgust at the sight of so many Dreamseed. Cassiel could feel Luriel’s concern for Maetoth.

They were connected in some invisible way. Maetoth had linked them, uniting them with the ability to sense one another.

“Do you think he will be alright?”

It was Cassiel who asked, seeking reassurance that Maetoth somehow had escaped. He had seemed so kindly and benevolent standing before them on the bow of the ship. The thought of his destruction greatly discomforted him. He had been like a dream of a kindly grandfather, and to be so threatened by the dark!

“I… I imagine not, Cassiel. He was saying goodbye to us. He seemed prepared for his end.”

The words tasted bitter in her mouth as she said them. She had seen too many recently go into death ‘prepared for the end’. She would never accept her end. She would fight to her final breath, kicking and screaming as all went dark.

Mathiel stood up, still off-balance from the incredible reality of the dream. He was unused to vivid dreams.

“I’m afraid I disagree. I think it’s all the more likely he is a prisoner of the Lord of the Flies.”

Luriel and Cassiel looked at Mathiel with confusion. He answered their questioning looks.

“I just do not think the Lord of the Flies would finish with someone like that so quickly. I am not saying he is free. He likely suffers… but he suffers as living prisoner of the Fear Lord.”

Luriel did not need her new-found power of empathy to know that her Fellowship feared the worst as to the fate of Maetoth. All the same, the demonstration of both the reach and power of the Lord of the Flies summoned despair in each of their hearts.

Standing, she spoke to her brothers.

“No matter what his fate, he gave us something to make us stronger. Together we can make a difference. Let it be a lesson to us. We are something special when we stand as one. Together we are something strong and mighty.”

[SotDX]

Jaciel left that morning, expressing his goodbyes as Luriel fought back tears. He would return to Prague and to his fate, and she knew she would never see him again.

“Sister, you will find others to guide you and listen to your fears. There are others in our order who will be there for you just as I have. Do not cry.”

She nodded, but she knew it was not true. There were no other Engel like Jaciel. He had been her first close friend among her winged brethren. The thought of his departure into worlds unknown was so painful.

Nothing can change the inevitable, and so with a heavy heart she bade Jaciel farewell as he lifted into the sky above Vienna. It would be most of the day before he reached his terminus, but in her heart he was already gone from the world.

Rythe was waiting for her when she entered the Hospital, a look of concern and sympathy on his face. He stood next to her as she settled herself. Luriel still had the challenge of attending a memoriam for both Thagiel and Adolphus which required more composure than she felt she could muster.

Slowly, tenderly, Rythe touched her hand and met her gaze.

“Luriel, I know you ache for his parting, but remember that you will see him again. He returns skyward to The High. There, in heaven above, he will await your own return.”

Rythe gave her a reassuring smile, hoping his words had soothed the pain she felt. Luriel merely shook her head, the endless doubts she felt rioting through her mind. Thagiel’s words did not merely speak but trumpeted. She should not have let him go. She should have begged… pleaded… demanded he stay here in Vienna. Stay here where he would be safe!

It was plain to Rythe that his words fell short of their intended task. Still holding her hand, he swallowed and made a suggestion he worried was improper.

“Luriel, if you need to talk about this… I am here… I am here to listen, if you need.”

Luriel looked at him, surprised at his concern for her. So focused on her own grief she had not realized how much she had worried her Templar friend. Rythe misread her sudden look of attention, and cast his eyes downward in shame.

“Forgive me, Luriel. I mean no offense. I should have not suggested you would need me to listen to your concerns.”

“And why, Rythe, would you think such a kind offer was offensive to my ears?”

Rythe looked up slowly.

“You are an Engel, Luriel. You do not need a mere mortal such as I to listen to your troubles.”

Luriel sighed, and hugged Rythe. These humans could be so damned obsessed with questions of propriety and place. Yes, she was an Engel, but she was hurting inside and he wanted to help. How could there be anything wrong with that?

“You did nothing wrong, Rythe. Thank you for your concern.”

Rythe was unable to say anything further, for at that moment Gavriel entered the hallway and, upon noticing Luriel, headed straight toward her. He ignored Rythe’s presence, and perhaps as a result, the Templar stepped away and left the two Engel to speak alone.

“Luriel, I have a request to make.”

Luriel nodded, uncertain of what to expect from an Engel who had made it painfully clear was no friend.

“Acting Ab Matthew refused to allow any Templars to be dispatched with him to this service. I am not allowed to attend either. I wish… I wish you to escort him and protect him. There will be untold heretics and soldiers of the Junklord there… so you will have to use great care to keep him safe.”

Luriel nodded, uncertain of how to respond. Gavriel was trusting her with the Ab’s life, and yet Gavriel blamed her for the death of the previous Ab at the hands of a Tempted assassin.

“I will do my best, brother.”

Gavriel snorted, and walked away leaving Luriel alone to consider what was to come.

[SotDX]

Luriel took in a great breath and marveled at the crowds. It seemed as if all of Austria had turned out for the service. The crowds ran far and wide, so many faces pushing and shoving, eager to catch sight of the royalty and oddities upon the stage. Strange metal rods stood before the center of the stage with fat ends bending back. Luriel absently wondered if they were for speaking into?

Ab Matthew sat beside her, obviously nervous and concerned. There had been a few cries of “Letiks” (a harsh word used by heretics in place of Engelitics) and other more coarse outbursts, but she had reached the platform safely with her charge. Around her hung massive banners of the Urbanis League, Austria, Vienna, and even the Church! To see such a conjunction of warring functions and ideologies here in one place gave her powerful hope for the future.

There was also a great banner to Thagiel hanging directly above her. She looked up at his triple-crown etched across it’s width and felt a sudden longing for him. His absence was profound, both in her, and in the crowd around. Staring at the faces of the waiting gathered, she knew they all wanted the same reassurances.

Now Thagiel was dead, their sacred protector! What was to become of Vienna? After the rumors of the previous days, was war still coming with the Church? Would the Infernos return? Reports of Dreamseed on the eastern coasts still filtered in. The depravations of the tempter-swarm were both loathsome and demoralizing. What could be said to this crowd to give them hope? Was not the very presence of her Fellowship here on this stage with the Church’s banner overhead a reminder of the dangerous days ahead?

Viktor was still not on stage, and the crowd was growing restless. She could hear Ab Matthew softly praying to her right, and Mathiel and Cassiel both wore expressions of concern. It something did not happen soon, the situation could get ugly. And deadly.

And just as she started to look around hoping to find some sign of Viktor, he appeared. He walked onto the stage in his full ceremonial dress, black plastic and red cable shining beneath the bright lights. His knee-high black boots echoed as he strode across the stage.

The crowd roared in exultation at the sight of him, and Luriel felt almost blown back by the power of the sound. He was loved, Viktor Constance, whatever his sins or crimes.

She also saw Isabella wheeled out behind him by one of her aides, though she was not greeted with the same response by the assembled masses. Still, she was a figure of authority and pride as her wheelchair was placed beside Viktor at the front of the stage.
Gunter lingered at the back of the stage, still on crutches. He nodded to Luriel, a reassurance she appreciated and returned.

Viktor stood before the sea of faces and the rush of cheers firm and unmoving. He raised his hands to command their silence, and a hush fell over the courtyard both complete and immediate. He lowered his arms, crossed them before him, and began to speak.

His voice rang out clear and deep, resonating and echoing. He spoke with passion and precision, no word rushed or out of place. Luriel had never heard a speech such as this, so perfect in rhythm and in its command of emotion. She knew now why the Constance family ruled with such a legacy and power.

Viktor spoke of his dislike for the Church. As the Engel grew worried and Ab Matthew crossed furrowed his brow, Viktor expressed his true feeling for the institution that ruled Europe. He spoke of the Heretic War and those who died fighting for freedom from ecclesiastical tyranny. He spoke of the untold crimes in years to countless to be forgotten. The crowded roared with him, hungry for blood and retribution against Roma and all it represented.

Mathiel’s hand tightened on the hilt of the sword he would not leave behind, and Cassiel put his palms on his sickles for reassurance. What hopes they had of stopping an angry mob were another matter. Luriel waited, certain she had not misread Viktor. He was not a man of hatred and fear.

Then Viktor paused, looked up at Thagiel’s symbol, and spoke of how Thagiel had first come to visit Vienna. He spoke of his father, Karl, and how the two had argued and discussed matters of theology and dogma. He told of his own first meeting with Thagiel, how he had seen him as a friend more than an enemy. In time, he had come to see him as a brother.

“And then the Infernos came to remind us who are true enemy really was.”

At the words, faces became darkened and downcast. All minds were on the Inferno that had taken their protector’s life.

“There is a force of darkness in this world, but it is not sourced in man or Engel. It thrives on fear and hatred. When we fight among ourselves, we do nothing more than feed its black legions. Someone here reminded us all of this. Please, Luriel, join me.”

As Luriel stepped back in shock at being mentioned, Viktor turned to her and extended his hand. He wanted her to come to the front of the stage and stand beside him in plain view of the gathered thousands. As she stepped forward on nervous legs, she thought for a moment there were more people here than had been present at her consecration in Roma.

Viktor seized her hand and held it aloft next to his.

“This Engel must be praised by us all, for she has saved our city. Her actions and bravery will be remembered in honor and glory by the people of Vienna forever.”

The cheers of the audience rushed at her like a wave, and she stared at Viktor in surprise and overwhelmed emotions. She did not deserve this. She only did what any other would have done!

“Luriel, you and Thagiel together represent what Engel could be. What they should be! You both have shown that you serve mankind, not dogma.”

Luriel stood, speechless. Then Isabella rose out of her chair (refusing the aide of her assistants) and limped to the microphone.

“Engel of the Ramielite Order, we feel you have proven yourself a worthy ambassador to our lands as well. Your honor and courage serve you well. I present you with an invitation to Andalusia, an honor we bestow upon you and you alone. There, in noble Cordova, I will treat with you in welcome and friendship.”

Luriel took the scroll Isabella proffered with thanks but mistrust. Isabella was a cunning woman and a great hater of the Church. Could she truly have become as accepting as Viktor as a result of Luriel’s actions? She doubted it.

At the back of the stage Matthiel leaned to Cassiel and whispered to him: “Yes, she gave you that. So she can stab the knife in at her leisure in Cordova.” Cassiel merely shrugged, preferring to believe in the potential in even heretics for positive change.

Viktor then spoke again, keeping his eyes on Luriel’s shocked face.

“And so it is in honor of this Engel’s display that I plan to open negotiations with the Ramielite Order in Prague to provide them with land within our borders and to extend the lands currently given to the Raphaelites. I do this also in honor of a good man who perished here while in our city. Adolphus-”

Luriel began to cry at the mention of his name. She could no longer hold back the tears. Stepping back, she let Viktor continue.

“was a honest man in a dishonest world. He fought for reason and peace, never wanting hatred to bring bloodshed to innocent lives. The fighting and distrust we have seen these past few days are a product of the true enemy of all mankind, not of the Church or its good men. I wish now to allow Ab Matthew, representing the Engelitic Church and the Raphaelite Order, say a few words.”

Luriel turned to Matthew as he stood up, wiped the sweat from his brow, and approached the podium on unsteady feet. He began to speak, and the words begin shaky and uncertain.

“Kind words, Satrap Constance. We of the Raphaelite Order live to help our fellow man, and serve the Church in our holy ways. I do not think any of us want hurt to be visited on our brother or sister, but are at the mercy of our devotion. Was it not our spiritual Shepherd, Petrus Secundus, who said…”

Luriel sighed. This was not an audience to preach to. Minds would shut down and anger would resurface if Matthew treated this as a pulpit. She could see the disappointment on Viktor’s face. She also saw a hidden glint of satisfaction on Isabella’s face.

But Matthew must have realized he was beginning badly, as he stopped and started again.

“Forgive me. This crowd is the largest attendance I have ever seen for any sermon I’ve tried to give.”

Scattered laughter echoed around the masses, and Matthew took a deep breath.

“Adolphus was a good man. Perhaps the best kind of man. He devoted his life to the Church in trying to make the world better. He spent endless years training Engel to protect us all, to fight against the darkness that rots at our world. And, Viktor, you are right; he was a man of peace. He was here to try and bring a greater peace into our world, and we are all the poorer for his absence.”

Viktor nods, obviously relieved and pleased at the change in tone in Matthew’s words. With one arm around Ab Matthew, Viktor asked all present to share in a moment of silence devoted to the memory of beloved Thagiel and Adolphus.

After the service was concluded and the crowds dispersed, the three Engel and Ab Matthew walked slowly back to the Hospital together. Cassiel seemed the most distant of the four. Matthew seemed relieved, Mathiel somber, and Luriel still wiped at the tears that had flooded through her.

Walking behind the others, Luriel asked Cassiel if he was alright. He looked at her with frustration.

“Its… its just I don’t know how to feel about it all.”

Luriel touched his arm, trying to understand.

“They were heretics that died… I mean Thagiel, he was an enemy of the Church… a hated renegade… and yet I feel sorrow for him.”

Luriel nodded, wanting him to finish on his own.

“I have grown fond of them I fear. These heretics, they are the enemy of the Church and I feel I must not let myself become close to them. There may come a day when I am called to fight them… and I don’t know if I could.”

Luriel listened. She knew these feelings. She knew them well.

“Or if I even should.”

[SotDX]

Despite Cassiel’s wish to return to Church Lands (where things seemed far less complicated) Luriel decided she had to find Puzo to thank him for helping her to save Mathiel’s life. Without his aid, there would have been no hope for her brother, and she had grown concerned that with the terrible flooding in the Undercity that he might have been hurt, or worse.

Leaving her brothers and Rythe to gather their things for the return journey, Luriel flew to the palace. She had decided the best course to find Puzo was to locate Ian Longwalke. He had been instrumental in helping her locate Puzo the first time, and she wanted to wish Ian goodbye as well.

At the palace she was met by Lukas and greeted with both honor and welcome. Luriel asked if she could see Viktor, and Lukas seemed troubled by the question.

“He is very busy, Luriel, but perhaps he can spare a few minutes. I will return shortly.”

While she waited for his return, Luriel wondered at the troubled expression on the aide’s face. Viktor had seemed troubled himself when she had taken the gun from him in his throne-room, but during his speech she had thought the bitterness and self-doubt had been set aside. Was it instead an act?

Lukas returned and showed her inside. Viktor stood before his great table with its map spread out before it, but this time Gunter did not quickly hide the display of Austrian lands. She smiled, for she knew she was at least no longer considered an enemy.

Viktor nodded to her, but he did not seem as pleased by her presence as she expected. Stumbling for a moment on what best to say, she finally started by asking about the floods in the Undercity.

Lukas commented first, explaining that the death-toll was now estimated at 600 drowned.

“Still, they were all Underfolk.”

Luriel grimaced at this suggestion. Were some lives less worthy than others? Were those who lived beneath Vienna cheaper in the counting?

Viktor silenced Lukas.

“There were tragedies abound. One hundred dead in the Inferno. Six hundred dead in the flooding. Many more wounded in the explosions of the dynamos. These have been hard days indeed.”

He rubbed his forehead and squinted. Luriel thought there might be a pain in his head from his expression, and she felt for him in his stress. He spread his arms out before the great map with is many markings and signs.

“There are Dreamseed in my lands, Luriel. They attack my cities and kill my people. I have no choice but to do something that will bring further consequences to us. I must build my forces and mobilize my armies.”

Luriel nodded, swallowing. Consequences, he had said. He was right. She understood the situation well enough. If Vienna was seen to be building a stronger army and sending it out into the lands of Austria near Church borders it would be seen as an act of aggression. What Viktor was planning would bring them closer to the precipice of total war.

“I have no choice but to do this, Luriel. And yet I know even today there are 500 hundred Templar soldiers massing at St. Terrel’s right across from my borders. I see dark days ahead. But I have a plan.”

Luriel looked up at him with hope in her eyes. Surely Viktor had some gambit that would keep war away. She had come to believe in his power and wisdom as a leader. He pulled two sealed letters from his coat and set them down before Luriel.

“I give you these letters. One is for your Ab, Abrogast, in Prague. It tells him of my wish to open my lands to several new monasteries of his Order… that I wish his researchers to be welcomed in my archives. The second is for the Pontifex.”

She felt crestfallen. Only letters? That was his great plan. War could be coming, and she feared all the words in the world would not be able to stop the engines of destruction.

“Viktor, I will take these letters to the Ab and to the Roma. I will also try to make sure the Ab at St Terrels and all who will listen understand that you do not want war with the Church. Believe me, we are not your enemy!”

Viktor smiled, but the new bitterness infected his warmth.

“I understand. Perhaps they will be pleased in Roma and give us our leave. I mean to say, your mission here was to take Thagiel away from us. And surely, you have succeeded?”

Luriel was hurt. He was right, but the words stung. Viktor sighed.

“Forgive me, Luriel. It is hard. So much has happened. You are a friend, of both Vienna, and of my own. You are welcome in my city and palace, always.”

At once Luriel remembered Adolphus’s missing books and things. Rythe had not been able to find them in the Hospital, and Luriel asked if Viktor knew where they were. It seemed that he had already investigated the matter himself, which surprised her. Apparently, on the day that Adolphus died, a request came down from Thagiel’s tower for the items from Adolphus’s room to be collected and brought up to the tower. It did not come through normal channels, but was handled by one of Thagiel’s own personal aides.

“Apparently, the items were in the tower still when it burned.”

Luriel sighed, disappointed at this revelation. She had hoped to find some answers in Adolphus’s journals as to his true intentions toward Thagiel. Some guidance through the myriad mysteries expressed over the past weeks.

“I see. And what of Ian? I did not see him at the memorial?”

Viktor nodded.

“He was supposed to be there. I had commanded him to be present. He has not been the same since the fall of the tower. He blames himself, I think. For… for what happened.”

Viktor grew quiet at this. The bitterness returned to his eyes. Luriel considered where he might be, and imagined he might be drowning his sorrows in the Undercity. She had one more question she wanted to ask Viktor.

“I see. And what of your beloved, Elizabetha. Is she recovering from her ordeal?”

The reaction on Viktor’s face was one of anger and fury. Luriel took a step back, not expecting this visceral response. The hard cold bitterness filled his eyes as the light faded.

“Luriel, I am very busy as you can plainly see. I’m afraid I must ask you give me peace.”

He rubbed his forehead with his hands and turned away, walking back toward his other aides. Luriel felt like a fool for asking so bluntly. How could she have known he would react like that? What had happened to poor Elizabetha?

As she turned to leave, she called after Viktor.

“If you need anything, Lord Constance, you have only to write me. I will be forever in your service.”

[SotDX]

The two Engel flew into the wet underground domain of the Undercity.

The floods had left little unravaged, washing much of the edifice and structure in its passing. The water-cities beneath Vienna were not unused to flooding, but the storms that had brought devastation of recent had been unnatural and pronounced.

Luriel watched Mathiel as his gaze traveled over the dark ruins of lost city streets and ancient roads now forever sentenced to twilight.

“And this was part of the Vienna of Before?”

She nodded to him, hoping his recent horrors beneath the earth would not resurface to haunt him. Some creatures of the sky found enclosed places too terrible to bear.

Luriel had returned to the Hospital after her worrying meeting with Viktor to find Mathiel, Cassiel, and Rythe laughing together. It did her troubled heart good to see the three of them in such a state of happiness and amusement. She entered the chamber, and with a heavy heart began to tell them of what she had learned about the massing Templars. They all agree that the letters must be delivered (and soon) if a war is to be averted.

Despite the urgency, Luriel was adamant she find Ian and Puzo. She wanted to know more about the case she found in Vant, and she thought only Puzo can help her with it. She regretted not sharing it with Thagiel, but it was far too late for such regrets. It was clear; she had to go to the Undercity.

Mathiel and the others had agreed she should not go alone. Despite her arguments, Mathiel convinced her that he would go with her. It was his life that had been saved, and he wished to thank Puzo himself.

As the two had flown together searching for one of the distinctive airshafts leading down into the depths below, Mathiel had asked Luriel about Viktor.

“I sensed something from you. Something is wrong with him?”

She did not know how he could have known from her few words, but she decided to tell him the truth. She described the bitterness in his eyes, and of how the mention of Elizabetha had brought out such anger in him.

Mathiel nodded to himself. He had seen women who had experienced what he believed had happened to Elizabetha.

“Rape, Luriel, is one of the foulest things on this planet. It destroys the soul of a woman. Few experience it and ever fully heal.”

Luriel did not even then fully understand, but she listened. Mathiel understood why Viktor was so hurt over what had happened to his beloved, and it helped to make Luriel understand a little more of the evil in the world.

At last, the two Engel reached the tavern in which Ian had brought Luriel after rescuing her from the mad tech-keep. She hoped he was here, but she realized there were still many other dank dungeons of inebriated shadow-men she might have to search.

She found herself hesitating at the door to the place, which Mathiel did not understand. It was in here she saw Adolphus die. She watched him fall through his own eyes. She remembered the feeling of betrayal. She had known in that moment that Thagiel had planned it all, sending her on a false hunt for some pathetic means to save Mathiel. She felt the acrid taste of guilt.

Mathiel pushed past her in frustration and entered the smoky confines ahead of her. He was not prepared for the sight before him. In this dark chamber men drank burning drinks of forgetting, wiling away endless hours in forced ignorance of the world above. The smell of the drunken and their smoked habits burned his nose.

Luriel elbowed him aside and started searching in the familiar surroundings. She made a short circuit of the tavern, slipping twice in the spilled takings of the evening. Parts of the building were still flooded, and the water damage was evident everywhere. Where the cravings for the foul liquid so great that they returned even before the walls had dried?

Her hope fading, Luriel found no sign of Ian. Turning to leave, she heard a familiar voice mutter something incomprehensible. She turned in the direction of the voice and found a man slumped over a table, his long black hair tangled and foul.

She approached and heard the mutter better this time.

“My fault… the winged battered… bast-erd… my…”

Luriel sighed. It was him, but he smelled horrible. She motioned for Mathiel to join her, and he did, but he crossed the floor with considerable caution. He was unpleased to be in such a place of sin and evil.

Together the two Engel pushed Ian back against the chair. His face had blood on it and thick drool dripped from his mouth. A pot-maid approached the table and sighed a the spectacle.

She said something in the local German dialect that neither Luriel nor Mathiel understood. Luriel looked up at her not comprehending. The girl replied in thickly accented Common.

“You shuld jus luv him on de toble. He un scuring off das trade.”

Luriel barely understood her, but nodded all the same. She asked the pot-maid what had happened to him. It was clear he was bruised and bloody! The girl explained he had been drinking almost two days and thus not doing very well. His money had been stolen, he had been badly beaten, and all he seems to do is order more drink on credit of the crown and mutter his guilt in Thagiel’s death and some woman named Liza’s being hurt.

The two Engel noded, keeping their hoods up so as not reveal their true nature to the denizens in the bar. Some interest had begun to develop in their presence with the other patrons.

Luriel and Mathiel together managed to drag Viktor out of the foul smelling tavern and into the only slightly better smelling outside.

“We need to sober him.”

Mathiel nodded, and pushed Ian over the side into the river just enough to dunk his face under the water. The cold waters woke Longwalke up and he jumped up shouting.

“Who is… I’ll give it to you… I am Ian Longwalke of the Palace Guard!”

He blinked several times, almost lost his balance, and then sat down between the two Engel.

“Oh… Luriel… bloody hell, its you.”

Luriel knelt down beside him, smiling.

“And it is very good to see you, also.”

Ian rubbed his face with his hands.

Mathiel was disgusted with this spectacle.

“What did you think you were doing? Were you trying to drink yourself to death?!”

Ian sighed and leaned over the side of the road to throw up. After several minutes of unpleasant retching, he looked back up at the two Engel.

“My choices are my own, Engel.”

Mathiel nodded, but Luriel could see he was not satisfied. Mathiel had never liked him, and she did not want their purpose sidetracked.

“Mathiel, please keep and eye out for trouble. I want a moment alone with Ian.”

Mathiel nodded, and glared at Ian as she stalked off. Ian did not return the glare, but merely wiped at his mouth with his hands.

“Not one of my best days.”

Luriel smiled.

“I imagine not. Why are you doing this to yourself? What happened is not your fault.”

Ian smirked up at Luriel.

“Not my fault? If I had not been blind, Thagiel would be alive. And Lizabeth… she…”

Ian shook his head unable to finish his words.

“How could you know what was coming? Thagiel had his own portents of a destruction coming, but he was blind to the truth of it. I even saw the Inferno erupting, but I couldn’t realize where it was going to spout from though it was right in front of me!”

Ian shook his head harder, and then rubbed his aching temples.

“No… no… but I could have stopped Lucious. I should have seen it. I have a knack for these things, usually. The bastard was right there in the middle of us and I never even saw it coming. He crept up behind us and…”

Luriel puts her hand over his mouth.

“Ian, listen to me. You did all you could. No one saw the danger that was Lucius Hawthorne. Viktor is up there in his palace right now killing himself slowly for not seeing the threat. He needs you. You need him. Go to your king.”

Ian smiled faintly, but the smile withered on his cracked bleeding lips.

“But the shot was from my gun. I gave birth to the Inferno. Me.”

“You didn’t know shooting Lucius was what he wanted. I was so misguided I thought I could trade myself for Elizabetha. None of us knew. You did the best you could, and Viktor knows it. He wants his friend beside him.”

The cloud in Ian’s eyes parted a little, and he nodded.

“Alright. Alright, damn you Engel!”

Mathiel approached again, and suggest Luriel hurry. Time was short.

“Yes, I know. Ian, we are down here both to find you, but to also find Puzo again. I know his previous lab was submerged in the flood. Do you know if he is ok and where he might be now?”

Ian slowly stood up, but he was unsteady on his feet.

“Yes, I know where he is. He staying in the house there across the byway with an wily bastard by the name of… name of…”

Ian started to pass out again and slumps down. Luriel managed to catch him to keep him from hurting himself, but he is snoring in her arms. Sighing, she glanced over at the house he indicated.

“Well, I can’t imagine it will hurt to try…”

[SotDX]

After arguing with Mathiel, Luriel left Ian in her brother’s protection. She was worried that the strange man has imbibed sufficient drink to actually damage himself.

Walking up the unassuming home, she noticed it was on raised stilts and thus mostly unaffected by the high floods. Curious, she reached the door and knocked.

A harsh voice shouted at her from behind the closed door demanding her name and business. Luriel realized she had not worked out an alias or reason for being here such as she had before with Ian’s help. Looking back across the byway at the sleeping mass and Mathiel’s annoyed face she decided to improvise.

“I… I am here to see Puzo.”

“There is no Puzo here. Go away.”

Luriel nodded, but was not dissuaded from her goal.

“I’m sorry, sir, but that is not possible. It is more urgent I speak with Puzo immediately. I have it on high authority that he is currently in this home. Either let me speak with him… or there will be trouble.”

The harsh voice took a sudden intake of breath, but no response followed. Then, at last, the door was unlocked and opened. A large hulk of a man motioned for her to enter and walk down a long hall.

Luriel pulled her cowl down low over her head in hope of hiding her markings. Now that she was away from Mathiel she concentrated and let the glyphs fade from her skin. Satisfied the process was complete, she stepped into the chamber at the end of the hall.

It was devoid of any furniture or furnishings other than a simple table at its center with a vase of red roses. A long mirror ran along one wall throwing her reflection back at her. Seeing her entire body reflected with her wings hidden under the cloak and her face unmarked unsettled her. She looked entirely like a human girl.

Turning from the mirror, a door opened on the other side of the room and Puzo rolled in looking confused and disoriented. Luriel went to him, kneeling before him.

“Are you alright? I was worried the flood had washed you away!”

Puzo was in a rusty wheelchair that did not roll well, and his clothes were tattered and stained. He looked pale and sickly.

“Eh… girl… have we met? I seem to recall…”

Luriel did not know what to say. This was Puzo, but he seemed a different person.

“Yes, the flood was terrible… my books… my machines… it was all lost. I am destroyed. Broken.”

Luriel nodded, feeling sympathy for him. The devices in his lab had been ancient and arcane, difficult if not impossible to ever replace.

At once a comprehension returned to Puzo’s narrow eyes and he nodded as if he remembered something vital.

“Yes… you came to me… the blood… Luri… Lorry.”

Luriel nodded, though she was unsure why he called her Lorry? Puzo then looked past her at the mirror pointedly, and whispered to her.

“We can not speak freely here.”

Luriel nodded. Was he being held against his will? The thug at the door seemed more than threatening.

“What is this place, sir?”

“This is the home of a… peer of mine. His name is Archerose. He saved me from the waters and took me in. I am indebted to him and am helping him with his own research. It is not of the blood… blood… yes, the blood you brought me. Something strange in it if I recall. What happened to him?”

Luriel nodded.

“Yes. Math lived. You saved his life, Puzo. You helped me more than I can ever repay. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Puzo shook his head, but again his eyes are drawn to the mirror behind them.

“What about I get you out of here? I’m certain I can find some better place for you to stay. You do not look healthy here.”

Before Puzo could answer her, they were joined by the house’s owner. Luriel turned and watched as Archerose entered the room. He wore a white suit of an older fashion, clean and crisp, his thin blonde hair brushed back over his head. He smiled a charming if reptilian smile, and greeted them both in a clipped Austrian accent.

“Greetings to you both. I am Archerose. Forgive my intrusion, but I do not think we have met before…?”

He extended his hand to Luriel and smile flashing his white teeth. She took his hand (which felt cold) and tried to smile back.

“I am Lorry. Puzo helped me previously in a matter of a blood disease. I want to thank you for helping him in his time of need.”

Archerose smiled and gestured as if to demonstrate that Puzo’s salvation was a small matter indeed. He turned from them, removed a sharp tool from his pocket, and clipped a brilliant red rose from the dozen in the vase.

“It is all I could do for a good friend and peer. Puzo is a brilliant man whose talents are being put to good use here in my home. I welcome his presence.”

As he finished, he placed the rose on jacket, its red standing out against his ivory-white coat.

“I see. Well, perhaps it would be best if Puzo came with me? You should not have to trouble with him any further. I will see he is taken care of.”

Archerose laughed gently.

“Ah, my dear, but of course.”

Luriel was surprised. Perhaps she was misreading the situation? She thought Puzo was in danger here and wanted out. Perhaps, if Archerose was willing to let him go, Puzo was alright here? She looked down at him trying to read the strangely defeated look on his face. He seemed so powerless and broken in the rusty chair.

“If… that is, dear Puzo does want to go?”

And to this, Puzo looked up at Archerose and shook his head. His eyes were empty and hollow.

“You see, dear, Puzo has no interest in leaving my home. So let us drop the matter, yes?”

Luriel was not sure how to proceed. If Puzo did want to stay… and yet she didn’t think he was saying this of a free will. Archerose had some foul hold on him. Perhaps she should leave, get more information… but somehow she knew if she did Puzo was never getting out.

“Well, thank you again for taking such good care of Puzo, sir. I must be going now, so I will take my leave.”

Archerose stepped in front of Luriel in a way both threatening and gentlemanly. He smiled his flashing white teeth smile and blocked her way.

“Now now… there is no reason for you to leave yet. I would love to get to know you better. And I am interested in this matter… yes… of special blood you brought to my friend Puzo?”

Luriel looked back at Puzo, and then considered knocking Archerose out of the way. She could overpower him easily, but she did not know what technological traps he might have hidden. She thought of the strange half-man half-machine that Puzo had built and given and Engel name.

Puzo interrupted her thoughts by shouting.

“Archerose, let her go. She has nothing of interest. I demand you send her on.”

Archerose frowned, and then nodded. He smiled slowly.

“Yes, yes… of course Puzo. I will let your friend go. I would never want to keep someone against their will, would I?”

He winked at Luriel as he said the words. He still blocked her path to the door.

“But before you go, dear girl, I have a question that just must be answered. Who told you Puzo was in my hospitality?”

Luriel considered lying, but imagined there was little harm the truth could do.

“Ian Longwalke. And he knows I am here, so perhaps you should step back out of my way as of now.”

Archerose did not seem the least threatened, but he moved back slowly, clearing the way for her passing. He did it in such a way, though, as to make clear it was because he wished to and not because she had demanded it.

As Luriel passed by him, he whispered to her.

“Fly fly little one… back to the Himmel you should go…”

Luriel hurried out of the white room and its red roses, leaving Puzo behind with the foul thing in a man-skin. She did not like doing it, but he seemed to be there of his own free will. Hating herself for doing it, she left the house and made her way back to the others.

Mathiel was relieved to see her, and asked her if Puzo had been there.

“Yes, but he is in the care of a foul little man named Archerose, and I worry he may not be very happy to be there.”

At the mention of the name, Ian sputtered and coughed, waking up slightly. He continued absently his words before he had passed out.

“bastard by the name of Archerose… dangerous man…”

Luriel started, kneeled down, and listened.

“Go on, Ian. Tell me more.”

“You shouldn’t go without knowing who he is…”

Luriel sighed. Little late now!

“Archerose is a big player in the Cult of the Machine… power vacuum now that Thagiel is dead… he wants to take over… part of the more dangerous element by….far…”

Cursing the fates that had struck against her, Luriel lifted Ian onto her shoulder and told Mathiel they needed to move and in a hurry. Archerose was a dangerous element, and she wanted to get as far away from him as fast as possible.

Ian was only barely conscious as they lugged him near the nearest airshaft, but as they prepared to fly up with him Mathiel heard a splash in the dark behind them. Turning, he caught sight of several men with weapons that looked unmistakably like guns.

Ian Longwalke opened his bleary eyes for a moment, caught sight of the approaching gun-wielding thugs in the employ of Archerose, and muttered.

“Well, at least this headache will be over shortly.”

[SotDX]

Cassiel and Rythe paced the hall impatiently. Luriel and Mathiel were long overdue.

Cassiel knew the Undercity was a dangerous place. Luriel’s description of its dark corners and shadowy presences had sounded awful to him. He had not been happy she had gone down there the first time in order to save Mathiel, but that was necessary. If she hadn’t, Mathiel would have died.

This time, though, there had been no desperate cause. Luriel had decided she ‘had’ to do this, and as a result endangered Mathiel along with herself. It was a rash decision. Leaning against the wall and trying to keep his imagination from working on the unpleasant possibilities, he cursed her for her insatiable curiosity. They all wanted to learn what exactly she had found under Vant, but finding them had nearly killed Mathiel. Now for a second time the canisters caused her Fellowship to be endangered. Perhaps they were nothing but a curse.

Rythe watched Cassiel, and wished he knew words to ease the Engel’s mind. It was improper to think an Engel needed his aid to be calm, but all the same Rythe had grown close to this Fellowship. Whether it was wrong or not, he felt they had accepted him as an equal. Rythe dreamed of a chance to join their ranks upon his death. Unlike Cassiel, he had full confidence in Luriel and her abilities. She had proven herself as a warrior and a leader. He did not understand what she had done to save Mathiel, but save him she had. The proof of her ability was evident.

Gavriel entered the chamber and immediately sensed the anxiety in the Engel and Templar. They were packed and appeared ready to leave, but something seemed amiss.

“Cassiel, what is wrong?”

Gavriel ignored the Templar and spoke directly to his brother. Both were Raphaelites, though Cassiel was younger and less experienced.

Cassiel sighed, considering deceit for a moment, and then told Gavriel the truth. The older Engel listened, his eyes narrowing to slits as he expressed his disgust.

“The Undercity? That place is riddled with the trash of this foul land. They leave the dead to rot in the streets down there. All the filth washes down there for a reason.”

Rythe listened quietly. He found Gavriel to be a rude braggart, even if a spiritual healer of the Lord. All Orders of Engel had members like him, though Rythe was most used to dealing with those of his own Order. He would never voice his frustrations at their arrogance aloud, all the same. He was a warrior of the Lord and bound by discipline and oaths of honor.

“I know, Gavriel, I know… but Luriel and Mathiel had to go down there. They had no choice. They will return soon… they should already be back.”

Gavriel snorted, and shook his head. He was fed up with this Ramielite. She broke all the rules, flaunted her disobedience of order and ritual as if it was something to be exalted. Someday she would be taught a lesson, but regrettably, he mused, not at his own hands.

And then, much to the three’s collected surprise, Luriel and Mathiel crashed into the chamber from the window with a very unconscious (and dying) Ian Longwalke. Cassiel and Rythe ran to them, the Raphaelite instinctively sensing for injuries and wounds, while Rythe pulled the limp form of Longwalke off the two Engel. Gavriel merely watched in disgust.

Mathiel told Cassiel that Luriel had been injured. Cassiel’s power spread through her body as he laid his hands upon her side, and with his potestas he found what was wrong. Several long thin metal needles had lodged in her back and side. Some coating on them was interrupting her body from being able to communicate internally, and the disruption was growing. Focusing, he ordered her body to fight against the intrusion, and while his hands began to glow the cellular damage was undone and toxins purged. Finally the needles were ejected from her body as if they had never touched her skin.

Cassiel slumped over, fairly exhausted from the effort. He didn’t even hear Luriel thanking him at first, but nodded to her all the same with a smile. He did hear her next words, though. Ian was not well. He had drunk entirely too much spirit and was now in dire shape. Cassiel knew that it was possible for a human to drink themselves to death, and he feared this was what had happened with Ian. The agent of the Austrian Crown looked pale and sick, and as fatigued Cassiel laid his all-seeing hands upon the spy, his fears were confirmed. Organs within Ian’s body had ceased purging his system of the poisons he had so willing imbibed, and now the alcohol was killing him.

“I am sorry, Luriel, but he is too far gone for me to help. Perhaps if I had more strength. But wait, Gavriel is here…”

Cassiel turned to the more powerful healer behind him, as if to suggest he should help, but Gavriel only laughed. A lesson was to be learned, and he would be the teacher after all!

“You must be joking little brother! Help this enemy of the Church? This man is a worm and is known to me. He secrets himself in our cities and plots for the heretic kings. It is my duty not only to refuse to help him, but to watch as he dies.”

Luriel stood up, her eyes bulging. She had not fought her way through the spitting needles of the Cult of the Machine’s tech-weapons and nearly died on the way to stand by and listen to this self-righteous prig of an Engel laugh as her friend died.

“This… worm... as you call him saved Adolphus’s life from a pack of scares. He has been there for me several times, including saving me from dissection at the hands of an insane tech-keep. And if you think I’m going to let you stand there and laugh as he dies and not lift a finger to help him, you are wrong. Dead wrong!”

Luriel stormed across the room towards Gavriel, and though it may be hard to believe, Gavriel merely stood there and grinned smugly at the smaller Engel. Luriel stood before him, her fury growing. Cassiel ignored them, and tried to summon what little strength he had left to push the toxins out of Ian’s system. The effort was futile.

Mathiel and Rythe stood to each side of Cassiel, watching as Luriel seemed to rise to Gavriel’s height. Gavriel merely snarled back at her.

“You think you know everything, little reader. You think you have wisdom from all the useless detritus your read. But you are wrong. I’ve watched you cozy up to the dead rebel, beg at the table of the Junk Lord, and even cause the death of Em Sarah. It’s time you learned there are consequences to your actions. This man will die and you will watch. He is an enemy of the Church and that is how it will be!”

Luriel did not even hear the final words. She hit Gavriel with all of her strength before she had even realized she had done it, and both Mathiel and Rythe saw only a blur. All the same, Gavriel collided with the door and was flung out in the hallway of the hospital. He landed in an ungraceful heap banging his arm and head on the hard floor.

Luriel panted, and while she knew what she had done was wrong, it felt good. Ab Matthew appearing at the door both alarmed and upset robbed her of that good feeling.

Both Gavriel and Luriel argued to the Ab, each explaining the same situation in dramatically different ways. Gavriel railed about another enemy of the Church being brought to the Hospital who they were duty-bound to imprison. Healing him was out of the question. Luriel stressed that Ian was her guest and had helped her time and time again in her journey to Vienna and here in the city. He was a good man, and more than that… he was a human being. It was wrong to deny any human the power of the Raphaelites, no matter his crimes.

Ab Matthew nodded and turned to Gavriel. The Raphaelite knew what he was being told before the Ab even finished. With great reluctance and injured pride the healer entered the chamber and kneeled beside Ian. He glared at Cassiel, placed his hands appropriately, and began the miracle only Raphaelites can perform.

Luriel stood beside the Ab and wondered where the strength she had demonstrated had come from? Ramielites are not known for the physical might, and yet she had hit Gavriel with enough force to send him into the air. Her hand ached, Gavriel’s face had a dark bruise, and Ian would live.

[SotDX]

The day’s ride from Vienna was hard.

The Fellowship left the Austrian city without further incident, Ian sleeping peacefully in a bed. Ab Matthew had promised Luriel he would be watched over, and Cassiel had agreed the heretic would make a full recovery. Luriel had expected the Ab to scold her for her violent actions, but the words never came.

It was with a heavy heart Luriel turned and watched the city streets of Vienna fall behind her. She left with many regrets. Luriel remembered the dead, from the explosions, the floods, and the fire. She thought of the dead in far Eisenstadt, wiped from the coast by swarming Dreamseed, of Puzo, broken and pathetic in the possession of a dangerous lunatic, of Adolphus, and of Thagiel.

Luriel’s regrets over Thagiel kept her mind occupied for hours as the land passed by. She paid little attention to the sights she had watched with such interest on the journey to Vienna. If only there had been more time…

Mathiel was not so filled with regret. He was eager to return to lands familiar and pious, weary of the strange customs and nature of the heretic city behind them. Despite this, he had changed. He had expected to hate Vienna and their godless ways, but he had realized that the people of the city were just that: people. He still saw them as mislead, but he no longer had a place in his heart for the hatred and disgust other Engel felt for the ‘Free Cities.’ And yet, he mused… Isabella of Cordova was still one to be despised.

Cassiel rode ahead with intent and relief. He felt sorrow that fewer were returning than set out, and he wished for Adolphus’s company. Even with that, he ached to be again in lands there were less confusing. He blamed the senseless moral complexity which blanketed Vienna for his sudden weakness at Thagiel’s tower and on the roof of the Hospital. He was a healer, not a warrior. That was simple and obvious, just as questions of right and wrong should be.

Rythe reflected Luriel’s sentiments the closest. The Templar regretted the return journey. He had found the oddities and exotic ways of Vienna fascinating. He felt elevated among the Engel, treated as an equal. What awaited him in Prague was a return to the usual and mundane life of a soldier. He would be one of many fighting an enemy that was infinite. He did not fear death, but he secretly craved the adventure of the past twelve days to continue.

Mathiel was the first to see the lights of the Gabrielite Monastery. The hour was late, almost midnight, and all were tired from the long ride. The Engel were reluctant to be horse-bound now that Adolphus was no longer with them, but it was improper to carry a Templar unless there was an urgent need. As a result, they had traveled for hours and finally reached Saint Terrels.

Luriel, relieved to know she could dismount soon, was unprepared for the verification of Viktor Constance’s intelligence about massed Church troops. Tents and campfires dotted the Gabrielite Monastery. Hard as it was to believe, it was true. 500 Gabrielite Templars camped here on the grounds bordering Austria.

Cassiel broke the silence as their horses rode toward the gates of the fortress.

“Well, if the Dreamseed do return this night, Ab Goethe will be quite prepared for them.”

Luriel shook her head and sighed. Cassiel did not understand. This was no army intended for defense. She saw the black clad Templars with their hasta and shields as an army of death. If the foolish people of Vienna will not convert, then we shall destroy them. God help us all.

A Monach greeted them at the door and took their horses. Mathiel noticed most of the damage from the Dreamseed attack had been repaired, though a little burnt wreckage remained. His eyes were drawn up to the skeleton of the water tower he and Luriel had stood on. He found himself looking at her as she spoke to the Monach. She wanted to see Ab Goethe immediately. He smiled, thinking about how well she had taken the role of a Michaelite. The thought made him realize: Touriel! Was she still alive? Was she still here? Mathiel held his tongue, ingrained instincts telling him to wait and let Luriel do the talking.

Before she followed the Monach to the Ab, Luriel turned to Rythe.

“Rythe, I would like you to speak with the Templars gathered outside, solider to soldier. Try to discern their expectations. Why do they think they are here on the border?”

Rythe nodded, pleased to be given a task. He started to walk away when Luriel called after him.

“And Rythe… be careful.”

He smiled back at her.

“Always.”

[SotDX]

Ab Goethe sat behind his large desk, plagued by anxiety.

It did not make sense, he realized. There was an entire garrison of Templars outside his walls. They were of his own Order, of the Engel of Death! If anything, that should reassure him, he thought. And yet, here he sat worried. The attack by the Dreamseed had shook him. The loss of the grain had unsettled him. He had always thought his fortress just that; a sanctuary in both name and function. But after the attack, when he had watched his ordered world burn around him and Engel be cut from the sky…

Rumors of Dreamseed attacks in the south kept filtering in. Strange reports of a small Inferno erupting and vanishing in Vienna. It was too much for him. His head hurt, he couldn’t sleep, and the thought of so many Templars around his walls did not make him feel safer at all. Instead, he felt it made him a target. A massive target.

He nearly let out a scream when his door was opened by his aid, and the guilty look on the pater let him know his surprise had been apparent. The hour was late. He was not in the mood to be disturbed.

The Ab was shocked to see the very Engel who had fought so valiantly to save his monastery stride into his chamber. His heart lifted at the sight, the worry fading from his mind, reassured by her presence.

“Luriel! I was not expecting your return yet.”

Luriel nodded to the Ab, and moved aside to allow her Fellowship to follow. The chamber seemed different than before, somehow smaller and less imposing. Luriel remembered the cutting words Goethe had said about Groten, suggesting a Gabrielite would have not been beaten by Hoffman. Instead of that condescending figure, the Ab before her seemed extremely pleased to see her.

“We are on our return journey to Prague. We need a few supplies and a place to rest for the night and we shall be on our way.”

The Ab nodded. He rubbed his hands together and smiled at the Engel. He considered asking after their mission to Vienna, for he did not see the old Ramielite Monach with them. He decided it was wrong to inquire. Their business was their own, and he had sufficient worries to deal with already.

“You are welcome in Saint Terrels. All that you need shall be provided to you. The sacrifices your Fellowship made to protect us from the adversary have not been forgotten.”

Pausing to prepare herself for the answer she dreaded but expected, Luriel asked the Ab the question in a soft voice.

“And of Touriel, our Michaelite?”

Mathiel and Cassiel both held their breath. She was sure to be dead. Her legs had been burned away, the wounds terrible. Cassiel had done all he could, but she was barely hanging on to life when they had been forced to leave her behind.

The Ab smiled and was pleased to tell them Touriel had been sent by armed caravan to Prague. A dispatch of several Templar from the new unit now camping out had been drawn to protect her on the journey. It had only left the day before, but with luck it would reach the Himmel before they would.

The relief and joy on the Engels’ faces filled the Ab with a splendid feeling of philanthropy.

“I am very pleased to hear that, Ab. I must admit, we all expected the worst. What you say does lead me to another question. Can you tell me what plans exist for these Templars camped around your Monastery? Are their plans for them to invade Austria?”

Ab Goethe nodded and expressed his frustration.

“I am afraid there are plans to do just that. It is not certain, but possible. As I understand it, the Diadoche is massing his forces and moving them near the borders. These troops are a reaction to that.”

Luriel was not happy to hear this.

“Good Ab, I have in my possession letters for both Ab Abrogast of my own Order and for the Pontifex Maximus Petrus Secundus. As I understand it, these letters are from Viktor Constance’s own hand declaring his intentions not to attack or invade Church lands. These troop concentrations to your south are merely because of Dreamseed attacks across his holdings. I personally saw the coastal village of Eisenstadt obliterated.”

“I understand your point of view. I must say that I am inclined to agree. The Lord of the Flies (and his servants) are a much greater enemy than any Junk Lord! All the same, Em Susat and the Consistory are concerned about what is happening to the south and they are acting in accordance with those concerns. I suggest you deliver the letters as soon as you can, or it may be too late.”

Luriel nodded, sad that things had come to this. She had seen an untold combination of Church and non-believer working together in celebration at the memoriam, and now all of that was mere inches from torn apart in a new Heretic War.

“It is a sad state of affairs, Luriel. If only Constance would learn to turn away from his foul technology, he could be welcomed into the fold of the Church. His mother converted, you know.”

Luriel sighed inwardly at Goethe’s naïve solution. The very power of the Urbanis League cities was founded on their technology. Asking them to toss such aside was suicide before the dual threats of the Church and the Dreamseed. Why did technology have to be considered such an evil?

The three Engel left the Ab to his rest and together walked the grounds of the Monastery in silence. The sky above was black and clouded, but the three new the path to their destination. They found themselves before the cairn of stones marking the final resting place of their fallen sister, Kyriel.

Mathiel kneeled down beside the grave first. He lowered his head and said nothing aloud. After a moment, he stood and stepped back to the others. Cassiel then approached, told Kyriel that he missed her and wished she was still beside them, and then stepped back next to Luriel.

Finally Luriel stepped forward, and stood before the rocks that covered Kyriel. The distinctive pattern of the grave of an Engel was clear for any to see. The lies of the Nonnus echoed from her memory. “Engel can not die.” “Engel are immortal.” “Engel live forever, only passing through this world of impure flesh to help weak mankind.” Lies. Engel may come from heaven and return there when their work is finished, but all Engel learned that in the cold hard world of reality they could die.

“Thank you for your sacrifice and your bravery, Kyriel of Gabriel. You fought with honor and strength to make your Archangel proud. You taught us of the arts of battle and loyalty. I have carried your sword, one-half of the soul you were given, in memory of you. When it consumes the flesh of our enemies, I do it in honor of the Engel that burned so bright.”

Cassiel wept. Mathiel closed his eyes. Luriel stood strong.

[SotDX]

Rythe told Luriel what he had learned from the Templars.

The leader of the Templar forces was an Armatura named Nerva. The rank and file of the soldiers were convinced they would be going into the heretic lands. Most seemed all too eager to ‘show the infidels the error of their heathen ways’. Rythe seemed uncomfortable with the zeal of his Gabrielite Templar brethren.

Luriel went alone into the encampment and sought out the commander of the forces, hoping to speak with her and convince her that the situation was one of misunderstandings and false assumptions.

Nerva was clad in her black armor and sharpening her knife when Luriel found her. The scarred and forceful woman greeted the Engel, but seemed perplexed at what business a Ramielite would have in her tent.

“Commander Nerva, I wish to speak with you about matters in the south. I have only today returned from Vienna, and have had communication with both Satrap Constance and with his highest advisors.”

Nerva smiled through broken teeth. She did not have a very high opinion of the use of Ramielites (they did not fight well, had egos the size of a Himmel, and were generally in the way) but this particular Engel seemed to have useful intelligence regarding their enemy.

“Well, Engel, tell me what you know. I would greatly appreciate any information you could give me on their defenses or strategies. An educated kill is always a cleaner one.”

Luriel blinked, unprepared for Nerva’s blood-thirsty countenance. Pushing on, she tried to explain.

“What I have to say is not quite what you expect. I know for a fact that Viktor is not planning to invade or to attack. He is only mobilizing troops to deal with Dreamseed in his lands. I have letters from him I am taking to Prague that detail this written in his own hand.”

Nerva was impressed. She was also not surprised. Ramielites, being slaves to the written word, were always more peaceful than they should be. Engel were warriors at their core, and yet the Ramielites and the Raphaelites had a habit of moaning on about peace and respect for life. Still, if this was true, if the news didn’t reach the right ears soon the Knight Templar might have her move into enemy lands and at that point it would no longer matter.

“My recommendation: get those letters where they are going as fast as possible.”

Luriel nodded. She already knew this. What she wanted was some reassurance the world would not come apart while she was enroute.

“Please try to delay anything untoward until I get these to the right parties.”

Again, Nerva flashed her broken teeth. She had no idea what ‘untoward’ meant, but she understood the Engel’s meaning.

“It all comes down to orders. If I receive word I am to engage heretic forces, then so be it. I’m sorry, but that is the way it is.”

Luriel nodded. She had realized arguing with the woman was useless. Luriel thanked her and returned to her Fellowship.

The four slept in the same chamber. While Luriel did not dream, she awoke several times to what she would have sworn was the sound of Adolphus coughing in the night.

[SotDX]

The four had left at the first sight of morning sun. There had been discussion of one flying on ahead to deliver the letter faster, but finally the Fellowship decided to continue on together. Among the reasons, there were still rumblings of Dreamseed in the area, reports of bad storms ahead, and finally they wished to stay together for as long as possible.

They headed northwest instead of north, using a different route through the forests that would not bring them through Groten as before. Luriel was relieved at this. While she prayed the town had recovered from the savage events of the week before, she knew the wounds would still run deep.

As their horses rose over a wooded hill, Luriel was amazed to realize it had been only 13 days since they had left Prague on their journey. It had been only 13 days she had known Mathiel and Cassiel. 13 days since she had been a very different Engel.

They slowly neared the town of Brega which lay in the seat of a valley on their path. They had no plans of stopping, and it had even been suggested by Mathiel they merely ride around it. While the town was in Church lands and would be filled with faithful worshipers, the sight of Engel on horses was unusual and they would likely be stopped by those seeking blessings. Many people in small villages never saw an Engel, or only one at distance. Europe was a large country, and while there were many Engel, there were many more people in it.

Cresting another hill as the valley began to open before them, a strange smell wafted to them on a breeze. Cassiel noticed it first, and his reaction was immediate. His hands began to shake and tremble, and his skin prickled as if cold. Luriel noticed him shaking his head as if trying to throw of the smell, and then she smelt it.

The smell was of sweat and fat. It was pungent and awful, enough to turn one’s stomach. Worse, though, were the emotions and memories it churned up for her. For a moment, Luriel felt like a small child clinging to a disgusting armored man in absolute terror. She felt small, powerless, and completely terrified. Then anger. It was a red rage that demanded blood. She felt the savage lust of the winged beast in her dreams, hungry for its fill of flesh and carnage.

The heavy drumbeat of horse hooves broke her fugue and she turned to see a group of nearly a dozen men in black armor riding into the city from the opposite side of the valley. Mathiel named them before her mind could even register the words.

“Grimriders. A dozen of them by my count. This could prove to be a problem.”

The fury tore at the bars inside her chest, so Luriel invoked one of her potestas to force it down. A serene sense of calm suffused her being, washing the madness out of her psyche. Focused, she turned to the others.

Strangely, while she is calmed, she still sensed fear and panic. Looking at Cassiel, she realized that somehow she was picking up his emotions… almost feeling them as if they were her own. She wondered if it has something to with Maetoth’s strange parting gift? Now was not the time to explore it.

“Yes, this could be a problem. The Grimriders had obviously come for their tithe. They will not leave without 1/10 of the suitable population of children.”

Rythe nodded. He did not think it was a good idea to get involved. Villages sometimes grow resistant to the tithe, and the Grimriders did not take kindly to such actions. It would be difficult for them to not get involved if they did enter the village.

Luriel began to wonder why the smell and presence of the Grimriders had such an effect on her and Cassiel. Mathiel seemed fine. She picked up only general concern from him, no fear or fury. Rythe expressed his concerns.

“It would be wise to avoid the city while this ritual takes place.”

Cassiel twitched further, unable to speak. Why were these admittedly frightening agents of the Church having such an affect? She wanted to know more. They would ride through, but attempt to avoid interfering. Mathiel nodded, but had reservations.

“Let’s just not get mixed up in something that is none of our business. No one likes their children taken, but all must pay the tithe.”

Rythe added his own advice.

“We should not get in their way. They tend to destroy any obstacle they find as is their duty and the law.”

Luriel nodded, and began to ride down the hill. As they neared the town of Brega, she remembered Adolphus’s words on the Grimriders.

“They are a hard lot, most ex-Templars and mercenaries. They serve the Church in a black task. They ride from village to village across Europe and enforce the tithe. They take 1/10 of the children of each village based on qualifications known only to themselves. Those taken become members of the Church, either Templars or priests. They bring a better life to these children, for many live in squalor. All the same, they are little better than hired thugs and thieves. Avoid them if at all possible.”

Luriel laughed cynically. Perhaps she should have listened a little better.

[SotDX]

The Grimriders are not kind. They serve the Church, and they are paid for their obedience. The Church has an incessant need for children for their own reasons. The Grimriders wish to be paid well for their work.

To understand the full fear a Grimrider evokes in the hearts of the people of New Europe, one needs to consider several factors. One is their appearance. The Grimrider is clad in dark armor from head to toe, often with their face covered by a helmet that looks menacing. They drench their armor with a fatty oil that keeps it from rusting, and produces a terrible stench. Not only are they often ex-soldiers and thus well trained at the arts of war, but they are spared the ban on weapon technology. Unlike the simple folk of the farms and village they prey upon, the Grimriders are armed with firearms.

But another facet of the Grimrider’s horror involves the children. It seems obvious that the folken of the world would fear the forced harvesting of their children, but in the world of the Engelitic Church children are the most sacred of all beings. It was children banding together that rebuilt the world after the floods and plague. The Pontifex, an unaging child himself, is living proof of the sanctity of a child. Thus the Grimriders, not only terrifying looking and smelling, armed with powerful weapons, are also beings of horror because they take the most sacred of things from the people’s homes into the unknown night.

All of this the Fellowship knew, but none had encountered a Grimrider in their brief existences in the world. They all knew Grimriders were not to be interfered with on their holy task. And as they rode into town, the Engel found what they expected.

An angry mob stood around the dozen black armored figures with their simple weapons, farm implements and sticks. Before the Engel could reach the group, one of the largest of the Grimriders lifted a long rifle in the air and fired. The crack of the weapon silenced the crowd, and many of them dropped their weapons in shock.

Luriel didn’t see the woman approach, but felt a hand close around hers. A young woman stood beside her and pleaded for aid.

“Oh… you have come… we prayed for the help of God and you came… please help our village!”

Luriel tried to steel her face, as the emotions inside wanted her to promise this woman she would fight off the child-thieves. Instead, Luriel only nodded to the woman silently and rode on. The crowd had formed a half-circle around the Grimriders, for many had already drawn a similar weapon to their leader’s rifle.

The lead Grimrider lowered his rifle and aimed it directly at the closest of the villagers, a man still holding strongly to his pitchfork. Luriel decided it was the time to act, motioned the rest of her Fellowship to hold back, and kicked her heels into her horse’s sides.

She reached the spot between the leader of the Grimriders and the mob, and raised her arms asking them to hold. The Komtur, or leader, raised his rifle and looked at her through his battered helmet. His two eyes stared out at her, one milky white, the other hard and cold.

“Forgive my intrusion, but I rode into this to stop further violence.”

“Out of my way, Engel!”

His voice was hoarse and crackly, and he shoved past her with little consideration. She could have tried to stop him, but she had been reduced to mortal terror. She knew his voice. She had heard it before! She even knew his name…

The Grimrider leveled his rifle at the crowd and shouted in a deep rattle.

“My name is Vargas. I am the Komtur of this band! If I do not see the children gathered here immediately, there will be many orphans in this village. I will now remind you why it is unwise to raise my wrath.”

He meant to shoot the man with the pitchfork. His gun was aimed at the man’s chest. Luriel was caught in flashbacks of fire, destruction, fear and death. All because of this man. Where did it come from? She had never met him before, but she knew him. Fighting the torrent of emotions she pulled her crossbow from her satchel and in one move brought it to bear directly behind the Grimrider. The quarrel was nearly against his skin, aimed at the exposed ring beneath his helmet. Raising her voice, Luriel shouted at him. This was risky, as his men were behind her. Still, she would not just let him kill a villager to make his point.

“Vargas, you will not kill any of these people. Lower your gun. I will kill you if I have to.”

She heard him chuckle, a deep revolting sound. She felt the weight of the crossbow in her arms, and her finger tight on its trigger. Could she really kill him?

Luriel did not get to find out. Vargas swung around and pulled the crossbow from her arms while at the same time knocking her off her horse with the butt of his rifle. He leapt off his mount, slinging his gun in its holster. Luriel looked up from her ungraceful heap to see him break her crossbow across his knee. The Grimrider pulled his helmet off, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

He had a grizzled face, a long scar running across one side and through the dead eye. Black ragged hair with white sprouts hung across his head in wet bundles. He approached Luriel, his face empty. Luriel read the intent to kill in his eyes. She leapt to her feet, not wanting this to grow worse, but it was out of her hands. The other Grimriders raised their weapons, and the villagers started shouting. Somehow Luriel sensed Mathiel and Cassiel, their concern, their thoughts of flying into the middle of what was about to become a bloodbath. Luriel called out to God for help, for she saw no way to stop what was coming.

A voice shouted out from the crowd as it parted around him.

“Stop this at once! This violence is unneeded and wrong!”

Both Vargas and Luriel turned to see who spoke. A Monach exited the crowd and stepped before them. He pulled back his cowl and tried to reason with Vargas.

“I am Harter, Shepherd of this village. Please, Komtur, give us but time to gather the children. This has been a hard year for my flock, and they were unprepared for your sudden appearance. There are ten children in the village ready for the choosing. We will not dispute your claim. Just give us time. Please.”

Vargas said nothing, and looked back at the Engel and then at his men. He looked at the hopeful faces of the mob, and then assented.

“Yes, we shall wait. But we will only wait one hour. If the children are not prepared for the choosing within that time neither your tongue nor any Engel will stop us.”

The Komtur glared at Luriel again, mocking her. He snorted, leapt onto his horse, and rode off to the far side of town with his men. Luriel’s cheeks burned at the sight of them, for she had been so easily bested. She was an Engel, and she had fought like a pathetic postulant. If this Monach had not come, people would have died. She had failed.

Harter gave her a reassuring look, and then turned with urgency to his flock and started shouting orders. The children must be gathered and brought to the church. Parents were hurrying off to gather their young. All of suitable age had to be brought, any child between five and ten. Time was of the essence, and although Harter was not trying to drive his people into further panic, there was fear in his voice.

Luriel watched the crowd disperse, still feeling useless. Her Fellowship rode up behind her and leapt from their horses and to her side. Cassiel hugged her.

“Oh Luriel… I was so afraid for you. That… that thing…”

Luriel shook her head.

“It’s alright, Cass. I’m alive, not that I did any good for the village.”

Mathiel disagreed.

“Luriel, you stood up to Vargas. I could be wrong, but I figure few have the courage to do that in these parts.”

“Alright, but I still let him disarm me and knock me down. Perhaps I do not deserve to carry Kyriel’s sword if I am so easy to defeat.”

She looked down at the blade at her hip with a heavy heart. Rythe spoke up.

“Rubbish. Luriel, that Grimrider has been a fighting man all his life. He has been in countless battles and more than a few wars. I think any Templar and most Engel would be hard pressed to best him. He moved incredibly fast and deftly.”

Luriel looked up at Rythe. Did he mean it? She felt Mathiel and Cassiel both agree. How could she feel their thoughts? Was it Maetoth’s Gift opening them to one another? She pushed the question aside. There was little time to decide what action to take, if any.

“So, brothers, what do we do now? We have become involved. I… I don’t know if I can just walk away from this now.”

Mathiel sighed. He did not agree. The Grimriders were doing their duty in observance of the Church. He pointed out that they had Ramielite emblems on their armor, and thus were paid servants of her own order. If they interfered they would be acting against the Church.

Cassiel shook his head. There was the same violence in his eyes as the night he had attacked Thagiel for Adolphus’s murder. Cassiel said the Grimriders were monsters and must be stopped. Even if that meant killing them all. There others were shocked at Cassiel’s harsh words.

Rythe did not speak, merely listening. His silence spoke volumes.

Luriel swallowed, confused and conflicted. The Grimriders were doing the will of the Church, but could that will be more wrong? Terrorizing people into surrendering their children! One thing was clear, despite any reservations, the Fellowship agreed to stand behind her decision.

Stepping away from them to try and decide, Cassiel approached and asked her a whispered question.

“Why do the Grimriders bring such fear to us? I was literally shaking before them. They seem so… so familiar.”

“Later, Cass. Later. Let me think.”

Luriel stared up into the darkening sky. Rain was beginning to fall, and the sun was choked behind the angry clouds. What should she do? They were outnumbered by an enemy armed with weapons that could easily defeat them. She wondered what Thagiel would do? He would fight them. He would die, if necessary, to protect the common people. And Jaciel? Jaciel would find a less violent path. Yes, there had to be a way through this free of bloodshed.

[SotDX]

Luriel told the others to follow her lead. She approached Harter and told him her Fellowship wanted to help.

“What can we do?”

Harter turned from the sobbing mother who was not ready (and never would be) to give up her son. He looked to each of the Engel, and then back to Luriel.

“Give them hope. Speak to them. My words are not strong enough.”

Luriel nodded. Harter turned and called out to the people. Several lingered, such as the sobbing mother, unready to seek out their children. He called them together and told them to enter the Church. He walked after them, Luriel following close behind.

Harter stood before the gathered and asked for silence.

“The Engel wishes to speak to you.”

All eyes turned to Luriel as she walked down the aisle towards the pulpit. She still did not know what she would say to them. How do you make this separation of parent and child less painful? It was impossible. She had to try.

Standing before them all, she surveyed the worried faces. She saw something that hurt her. They had hope in their eyes. They thought she was their savior. They expected her to tell them the danger was over, the Grimriders had decided to leave without the tithe. Searching for strength, she looked back at her brothers at the back of the Church. She met Mathiel’s eyes, and she felt a surge of confidence.

“I know you are afraid. We are all afraid in such times. I know you do know want your children taken from you. Harter has told me of the hard year you have had. There are only a handful of children in this village, and each all the more precious for the number. I know you want me to tell you that no child will be taken.”

Harter looked at her and held his breath.

“But that can not be. A child will be taken today. But that child will not be taken into darkness, but into light. The Church will love and care for the child of your hearts, and they shall be given the most sacred privilege to serve the Lord God directly. That is a thing to rejoice upon, not weep.”

The words tasted of ash. She could see doubt in some of their eyes, but others were beginning to turn away from sorrow.

“Know this: the Grimriders will be held to the law. We are here and we shall not let them treat you with cruelty. They are entitled to only one-tenth, and that is all they shall have. One of your blessed bounty of ten souls, no more. If you provide the ten they expect for the choosing and follow the law, then my Fellowship will see they take that one and leave. If they try to take more, or hurt you…”

Cassiel nodded. Mathiel crossed his arms. Rythe, outside watching the Grimriders watch him, prayed.

“…then we shall fight with you to remind them of the law.”

Harter called out in praise, and the people in the pews rejoiced. They felt the Engel of the Lord were there to protect them. Of course, Luriel knew, it all relied on them gathering the ten and soon.

“Now go to your homes and gather the children. If you are not one of the ten families, help the ten! Move quickly. Bring them here to the Church gates and do not delay!”

The people dispersed, hurrying now in mass to their homes. Harter stood next to Luriel alone in the Church, her Fellowship having exited with the villagers.

“You said the right words. Thank you.”

“It was my honor, and duty. My name is Luriel, by the way.”

Harter smiled. Luriel left him and started to walk across the Church to the front exit, eager to return to her Fellowship. She stopped when she heard a child sobbing near the entrance off to the right. Turning, she was surprised to find a small girl crying, kneeling in the dark corner. Luriel kneeled down, looking for the child’s parents. Was she one of the ten? She was of age for the choosing.

Her blood turned to ice. The girl was Rebehka… the girl from her dreams. She was crying. Something bad had happened to father. He had gone after brother. Brother was hiding… and they came. The bad men. The angry men. The men who took her! Her mother’s voice… ‘I fear I am already a widow.’

Luriel stepped back nearly tumbling off the steps out of the Church into the mud. What madness was this? There was no girl back there. The girl had never been there. Forcing herself to forget what she had seen, Luriel hurried to the others. The Fellowship gathered together, and Luriel told them what she had promised the town.

Rythe was concerned. He thought it was very likely the Grimriders would try to take two or three. Yes, the tithe is only one-tenth, but there are only ten to be chosen between. They would want more. They always do. Mathiel and Cassiel were silent. Luriel could again hear their feelings in her head.

“We have no choice now. We have made our promise. We stand by it.”

And so they watched as the children were gathered. With only a few minutes remaining, seven children had been gathered on the steps of the Church. Mathiel watched the city streets around, impatient to see another mother and child hurrying through the thickening mud streets. Time was running low.

At once the bell of the Church began to toll, signaling a final reminder to the missing families they must come. Rythe told Luriel the Grimriders were growing impatient. They had not yet returned to the courtyard, but would in only a moment. Luriel sought out Harter.

“We are still missing three!”

“I know. Let us trust that they will be here in but a moment.”

“A moment is all we have!”

Then Luriel heard Cassiel shouting that the rest were coming. Relieved, Luriel stepped back out into the rain and saw two more children brought. Still one remained. This was not good. If they were missing a child, all bets would be off. The Grimriders had a habit of harsh reprisals if they felt a child had been hidden from them. The thought seemed almost painfully familiar to Luriel, but she did not know why. Everything about this experience had made her feel she had forgotten something important.

Then Luriel heard Harter calling to her over the wind and crowds. She turned and saw him speaking with a desperate looking man who had tears running down his face. Her spirits sank as she hurried over.

“What is it?”

Harter introduced the sobbing man as Thomas, a parent of a single child, the missing one. Stepping away, he told Luriel Thomas had lost his wife only two years before, and his boy, Sam, was all he had. The boy was considered slow by many, though Harter felt the boy had sly cunning all the same. He had a reputation of hiding for days at a time when the mood suited him. Thomas, it seemed, could rarely find him when he went a-hiding, and normally just waited for the boy to return when he grew hungry enough.

They were in deep trouble.

Then Rythe shouted that the Grimriders were riding back to them. She had to act fast. She called to Cassiel and told him to lead the nine children inside the Church and calm them. They needed time. Cassiel gathered the children from their mothers and led them, a young one in each hand.

“Rythe, I need you to speak with Vargas soldier to soldier. Try your best to explain to him we need a little more time. Tell him that Cassiel is praying with the children to calm them so they will behave for the choosing. Delay him as long as you can.”

Rythe nodded, and hurried down the steps to meet the coming riders.

“Mathiel, I need you to fly to Thomas’s home and start searching with all your senses and skills. We must find this boy. He has to be here.”

Mathiel nodded, grabbed Thomas, and lifted into the sky.

Luriel turned to Harter.

“I will also try to search. Pray we find him. If all else fails, ring the bells. We will return and do… what we must.”

Luriel walked into the Church as the Grimriders watched. She had no idea how things were going with Rythe and Vargas, but she trusted her Templar. He would find a way to slow down the beastly man.

Luriel walked through the Church, watching Cassiel talking and comforting the children as she made her way to the back of the building. He was good with them. She wished it would help, but now it was a matter of her and Mathiel.

Lifting into the sky, she flew aimlessly over the city of Brega. Where could the child be? So many places to hide. What place would seem safe and warm to a young boy. Perhaps a barn?

Luriel landed before a small barn, startling chickens and a mule. She found no boy, only a tattered cat. This continued for several minutes. She expected the church bells to signal any moment. Had Mathiel had any luck? If they still had a Michaelite, Touriel could have found out and told her. They had that potestas, able to lead their Fellowship with a mental voice.

Then she remembered the weird flashes of emotion and thought. Could she direct a thought to Mathiel? It was worth a try. Closing her eyes, she called out to him mentally.

“Mathiel? Can you hear me? Mathiel!”

She felt like a fool.

Then he answered.

“Luriel? I hear you. STOP SHOUTING! You are giving me a splitting headache!”

She was so amazed she almost forgot why she was trying to speak to him. She spoke again with her mental voice, this time trying to speak with a softer volume. It was a strange thing to try and speak softly when the voice was only inside your head. She asked if he had found the boy.

“No. Thomas has tried to help me, but I have left him behind and started trying on my own. The boy may be gone, Luriel. Thomas thinks he may have caught wind of what was coming somehow, and ran.”

Luriel felt the past become the present. The boy ran. Shaking it off, Luriel told Mathiel to keep looking.

Then she felt Cassiel’s agitation. Something was wrong. The bells had not rung, but she knew she had to get back to the Church. Flying as fast as she could, she descended to find the nine children lined upon the steps with Harter and Cassiel behind them. Vargas stood before them, but it was clear he was not pleased.

“Nine children I see. Do you think I am a man to play with? Perhaps I was wrong to leave you without a proof of my seriousness. Where is the tenth child?”

Luriel answered as she landed between him and the line of children.

“The tenth is hiding. He is frightened, and his father searches for him even now. We have searched as well, but he has not been found.”

Vargas shouted a single word to his men and they all raised their rifles and bows. Then he glared at Luriel.

“I have had enough of your meddling. Step aside, Engel, or your order may find it in need of a new scribbler. These people were told that ten were to be here. Ten are not. They will learn today the error of their judgment.”

And then Mathiel landed holding the crying boy. The Urielite was scratched on the cheek and had been bit, but he had brought the boy. Luriel was relieved, but also felt so guilty. The boy was afraid. Luriel reached out to him, and Sam clutched her hand firmly. She caressed his head and pulled him close.

“You have your ten now. Do your choosing and be on your way.”

Vargas called to his men and they lowered their weapons. She could see something in his eye, but what he was planning was unclear. She backed up the steps with Sam, holding him close. She could feel him trembling. He was only seven, and his dark hair was thick and curly. Bright eyes stared out at the Grimriders in fright.

The choosing began. Vargas walked up and down the line, checking each child for unknowable attributes and signs. He grunted at them, sighed, and performed his ritual selection with painful slowness. Luriel stood tall next to Sam, still holding his hand. Mothers and fathers gasped as Vargas lingered over their boy or girl, and sighed in relief as he moved on.

After what seemed an eternity, he pointed to one tow-headed boy and grunted ‘this one’. Luriel heard the parents’ sobs and her heart died. Then Vargas walked down towards her. Was he planning to gloat?

Instead, he looked down at Sam, and grunted again.

“This one also.”

He then looked at Luriel and smiled. Luriel started to open her mouth, but he cut her off.

“Since our orders were not followed, we take two this day. Remember this and learn, and next time you will not suffer again.”

Luriel started to reach for her sword, but Rythe caught her eye. He shook his head slowly. This was wrong, perhaps, he seemed to say, but it must be.

Do not do this, Luriel pleaded inside. She heard Thomas call out in horror. Vargas turned and walked down the steps, looking from side to side in the crowd, searching for someone daring to try and stop him.

The tow-headed boy walked down the steps, his parents hugging him and kissing him. He went without argument, though he choked back tears.

Sam did not move. He did not cry. He just looked up at Luriel.

“You are an Engel. You are supposed to do what is right. I think the Church is evil. They do not let me read. They do not let me write. They tell me what to think. If you help them, then I think you must be evil to.”

Luriel was stunned. The boy tore her soul open. He ran down the steps and after the other chosen boy. Luriel leaned back against the wall of the Church. How could she let this occur? Then Thomas lunged at her and shouted in her face. She was an Engel. She was supposed to help people. She did nothing! The other villager’s pulled him away, and he stumbled off.

“I have nothing. Nothing!”

The Grimriders rode off, two children leaving their homes forever.

Harter told her she saved them all. If she had not acted, the Grimriders would have killed several and taken more. Several villagers agreed, thanking her for her words and deeds. She had saved them.

Luriel did not think so. She stood alone in the rain, her Fellowship waiting for her. She had sent two children off to a life of obedience and servitude. She had stood by while families were ruptured.

Standing alone in the rain, she wished the warm water running over her could wash away the deep feeling of sin that now choked her.

Such was not to be.

[SotDX]

They did not try to speak to her. It was obvious she wanted distance. Luriel rode ahead, eyes forward, and her Fellowship gave her all the room she needed. Mathiel and Cassiel spoke softly among themselves. Once Mathiel even managed (with difficulty) to bring a laugh out of Rythe and a chuckle from Cass. But Luriel, she rode ahead of them.

Though no one spoke to her, she was far from silent. Inside, she was in deep argument with herself. She knew she had done wrong. She had betrayed the child and the village. The irony of it struck her. The town of Groten was only a half-day’s ride to the east.
In Groten she fought a creature of darkness to keep it from taking children. Now, in Brega, she had stood by while a creature of light committed the same crime. Who was the monster? Was the Church just another predator?

She was sick. It was driving her crazy, the constant replaying of the last moments. The image of the girl, Rebehka, there in the Church crying for her mother and father. No one else had seen her, and then she had vanished as if she had never been. Why had it all felt so familiar? The word she had found in books from the time before called it Déjà vu. She was an Engel. Anything else was falsity.

It was too much. There were too many things surging through her head. She needed to escape, to find some vantage point to see things differently. She needed distance.

Luriel called back to the others, and told them she was going to fly ahead for a while and clear her head. The light was fading as night approached, but she would return to them shortly. She did not give them time to argue or ask to accompany her.

She needed to be alone. She flew.

Soaring over the trees did not help at first. All she managed was to frighten birds. Her eyes kept being drawn back to the east, wondering if Groten was visible somewhere in the distance. What would it feel like to fly over that town again? The image of Hoffman gliding through the air without wings unsettled her as it rose from her memory. She had nearly died in that barn.

Drifting on the breeze, slowly the frustration and upset faded. It seemed as if with each new rise and descent she cast off the weight of her worries. Something in the wind liberated her. She never thought of herself as a child of nature; that was the kind of thought a Urielite might have. She was a creature of old books and musty words, and yet here in this primal landscape of a world unbound by technology she felt home. For a few stolen moments of peace, Luriel forgot who she was, what she had seen, who she had known, and what she had become.

Then, just as it always must, time returned and took back its borrowed grace. Ahead of her Luriel’s keen eyes caught sight of a thin pillar of smoke. Somewhere ahead was a fire.

Luriel sped up, lowering her glide to just over the trees. In the fading light of dusk it was hard to see much at distance, but she cautiously pressed forward. There was a clearing where a pass through the woods opened. As she cleared the last of the tree cover she found the source of the smoke.

A caravan had been attacked. The wagon’s wooden ruin gave smoke to the unforgiving sky. Burned bodies lay scattered around the destruction, some mutilated and torn apart. Dreamseed. Landing amid the scene of carnage, Luriel pulled her sword (Kyriel’s sword/Sword of Prophecy) free of its hilt. She did not sense any movement, but if any Dreamseed lingered she would be ready.

Slowly walking amid the dead, Luriel sought sign of any survivors, but found none. One dead Dreamseed lay next to a corpse. A long Hasta jutted from the creature’s thorax. The Gabrielite Templar’s throat was torn open. Luriel considered the Order of the dead. Could this be the caravan that…

She turned and looked at the burned wreck behind her. Had Touriel been in that? Then she heard a cough somewhere to her the left of her in the growing darkness. She called out, searching for whoever lived.

Luriel found the Templar just past the tree line. He had been thrown in the attack and his back was broken. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth. He was all but gone when she kneeled down beside him. Words came with difficulty, but he struggled.

“there were…. so many… and… they… took her… took the… Enge-”

Luriel shut his eyes with her hand. So many dead. She counted at least ten in the fading light. And Touriel was not killed, but worse. She had been taken- taken by the black beasts of the Lord of the Flies.

Standing amid the scattered bodies and the smoking wreckage Luriel asked for guidance from her Archangel. She prayed to God, asking that Touriel not suffer at the hands of the darkness. And, last, she prayed for vengeance.

[SotDX]

Her prayer for vengeance did not last. As it died on her lips, she felt the heat of a flame. Irrational fear drove her to drop the sword and slap at herself, trying to smother the imaginary flame that licked at her body. She smelt her flesh cooking and felt the skin bubble, but there was nothing. Then she was not herself.

She was Jaciel. He was in the fire, burning. His mind was cotton, drugged and confused. He knew he was burning, but he accepted the warm embrace of the consuming fire. He spoke in the words only a Ramielite can speak.

“Goodbye, sister. I loved you.”

And then he was gone. Luriel stood alone as the last of the daylight died. She knew with a cold certainty that Jaciel had been burned alive. It began to rain, but Luriel was blind to it. She stumbled in the darkness, only instinct re-sheathing the dropped sword.

The mental calls of her brothers brought her back to them, but she flew without awareness or guidance. She was somewhere else, writhing in the final fire. Her head was cotton, drugged. She was accepting the warm embrace of the consuming fire.

With empty words she told them Touriel had been taken and the Templars were dead. Mathiel and Rythe agreed at first light they would search the clearing for any signs of where the Michaelite had been taken. Luriel heard, but she did not listen. She told them Jaciel was dead, but it was not her speaking. The voice from her lips came from someone she had been, someone who had not just felt her best friend burn alive.

Cassiel held her close, tried to comfort her. She cried and sobbed. She wept. She wailed. Too much. At last she slept, accepting the oblivion of rest with relief.

She found neither rest nor relief.

At first the dreams were of Jaciel and her time with him. Her memory treated her to their arguments and discussion, his lessons at flying, the moment they had shared in the library of Prague… and in Vienna.

But as he stood next to her caressing her head she began to smell smoke. Small tendrils of curling black rose from his long hair, and then he blazed. The books burned. The pages blackened as the black haze erupted from within. The fire cleansed and left nothing but emptiness.

A woman’s voice spoke to her in the darkness.

“The fires are the immune system of our world, ravaging away to shed the infections that plague its surface. We shall be cleansed and made pure by fire!”

Then the blackness opened and Luriel saw the girl, Rebehka, being carried by Vargas over his shoulder. The girl looked directly at Luriel.

“Won’t you help me? Aren’t you an Engel?”

Luriel stood unable to move as the girl’s mother tried to stop Vargas. The woman begged Vargas to stop.

“I’ve lost everything this night. Don’t take my child!”

Luriel shouted in anger as the Grimrider slapped Rebehka’s mother and knocked her against a wall. There was no one to stop this. No Engel raised a hand to stop this crime. Pushing forward, trying to stop this evil, she found herself falling in the night sky over a great city.

She knew it to be Roma, the heart of the Church. She was flying alone in its night sky. Though she dreamed, she was aware. She remembered this dream from the night in the Hospital. And just as had happened before, the Black things soared out of the night sky and set loose with their war-cries.

In the nightmare before, the creatures had torn her wings loose and she had fallen. She would evade them this time! They swung down at her, black talons ripping at her. A heaviness pervaded her body. She felt weak, her muscles refusing to respond. She had to struggle to keep aflight as they passed closer and closer. In the darkness she saw the faint light reflected in their strange empty eyes. They were winged humans, but with hideous faces.

The weakness slowed her down, and the talons of her pursuers finished her. She fell, screaming into the night, powerless to stop her death.

And she was on the beach…the beach where he walked on water.

The light hurt her eyes. Around her she found the corpses of several Engel. Her sword lay broken beside her. It was not all that was broken; her body was in a terrible state. She could barely raise her torso. Black shadows passed over her as terrible things flew past. A cold wind blew from the sea.

Raising her ruined body, she saw him striding across the waves. She did not mistake him for a ship this time. He walked slowly, purposefully, with no effort atop the sea. She watched him, her twisted wing burning as she raised herself higher. One arm was useless, and her legs felt numb. She tasted blood and knew it came from within. A great battle had been fought here, and she had fallen. Now he came to finish her.

With the endless minutes, he came ever closer. She could see him now better than the last dream. His skin was dark and oily, his bald tattooed head glinting in the sun. A long beard in twin braids ran the length of his chest and swayed as he walked like thick black ropes. There seemed to be metal piercings across his torso and head. A long dark leather apron was his only clothing around his thighs and waist. Still, she could not see his eyes. He was too far out.

But he grew closer.

The naked terror choked at her. She knew, as she had known before, that with this figure marched her death. He came from the madness of the Lord of the Flies, and with patience and alien regard he came for her. He had grown close to the shore, now, his eyes almost visible.

And then she awoke.

Cassiel smiled down at her as she opened her eyes, the sun outlining his face.

“It is time, Luriel.”

She rose, and said little to her brothers. The nightmare had shown her death twice over. She had fallen above Roma. She had lain broken upon a beach with the Tempter upon her. Neither were pleasant images, and in a strange way of knowing, she was certain they were portents of what was to come.

[SotDX]

In the light of morning, the carnage lost some quality of the night before. While the dead still lay strewn about, scattered with the cruelty of war, it did not haunt Luriel as it had before.

Luriel ordered them to search for some sign that might guide them to where Touriel had been taken. The letters in her satchel demanded delivery, but the thought of Touriel in the hands of the Dreamseed was too abhorrent. She had to be found! The letters would wait.

Mathiel used his Order’s gift to heighten his senses, searching for small traces the other might have missed. He knew not what he sought, but he was determined to find something. He felt the same desperate need to save his lost Michaelite. It was not merely loyalty. It was the terror of what they might do to her.

Cassiel tended to the dead, saying words over each and putting order to the remains. He kept his imagination locked away, unable to risk contemplating the savage mercies to which Touriel might be subjected. Rythe helped him in his quiet way, saying words over his fellow Templars.

Mathiel called out when he heard horses approach from the south-east, and flew up to see who was riding toward them. Gabrielite Templars had come after reports of smoke in the distance had reached Saint Terrels. Together with Cassiel and Rythe, they helped to bury the dead.

Luriel watched them, unable to draw close. Her thoughts were of Jaciel. Was he to be given a burial? Or was he now merely ash in the wind? Her dark thoughts were interrupted when Mathiel shouted that he had found something past the tree line.

Hurrying over to his position, she realized it was the same area where she had found the dying Templar. Stepping over the underbrush, she could not find his body. She looked around, trying to gain her bearing. It had been dark last night, but she was certain that he had been on the ground right there. Had Cassiel already collected his body?

“Luriel… you will want to see this. I can not read it, but I fear it will mean something to you.”

She found Mathiel next to a tree with a word burned into its trunk. She reread the word several times, hoping it would read differently. She looked back at where the body had been, and then back at the tree.

The word on the tree read HOFFMAN.

“What does it say?”

She told him, and then walked back into the clearing. He had taken Touriel. He had taunted her, enjoying himself, playing at being dead. She had touched him, closing his eyes! The bastard! She clenched her fists. Where had he taken her?

Rythe approached her, though he sensed something was wrong.

“Luriel… did you find something?”

She nodded, but couldn’t find the words to explain. He did not press.

“Well, I have spoken with the Templars, and they said reports have come in that Viktor’s men have moved close to the border. They expect to be dispatched shortly.”

Luriel felt time pulling her away. Touriel was somewhere far off in the dark, calling for help. All the same, the dying peace was fading as well. They had no choice. The letters had to go to Prague. Luriel whispered, asking Touriel to forgive her.

“We have no choice then. Gather the others and send the horses back with the Templars.”

“Luriel, What do you mean?”

“I mean that we fly to Prague from here.”

[SotDX]

Well, folks, that will be the last post for a few days as my wife and I are heading off to Indianapolis!

If anyone who is reading is also going to be there, if you see a guy with a long pony tail who is wearing an Engel shirt (that says either Engel: Salvation or Engel: Savage) be sure to say hi.

Take care,

~SotDX

(Jeff)

[SotDX]

Only five Himmel are left in the world of Engel. Once there were seven, each a monument to the power of God and the Engelitic Church. From those seven the Engel flew forth to battle the forces of darkness and doubt, serving the Ab of their Order, obeying the will of the Pontifex from the great city of Roma.

Now only five stand. One was lost to the Brandlands after the Infernos ringed the island of Corsica. The second, Thagiel’s once home, was lost when an Inferno destroyed it. With the fall of each Himmel an Order was lost. Five Himmel still stand, and five Orders still fly.

Prague, the city of the Ramielites, was an old city littered with libraries and places of Church study. The people who walked its cobble-stoned streets were no more literate than the farmer in far rural lands. The Church kept a lock upon literacy, but here they reveled in their private privilege. The greatest libraries and archives were kept in the high tower Himmel. This had once been Luriel’s home, and it was to here she and her Fellowship returned.

Rythe had been nervous and uncomfortable at first, but once he had grown used to being held aloft miles in the sky he had drifted off to sleep. The Engel had flown for the entire day, struggling against fatigue. Luriel flew like an Engel possessed.

In the quiet hours of their flight each reflected on their journey. Cassiel remembered how hard he had struggled to keep up with his Fellowship. He had been a weak flyer until Luriel had shown him how to relax and stop fighting the wind. Mathiel found himself looking down at the villages they flew over, wondering what was happening in each as the humans below went about their lives. Where they truly so different than the people of Vant?

Luriel thought of Thagiel flying all the way to Trondheim only to find his Himmel lost. It was not a short journey, even for an Engel. He had flown there without stop or rest, unbelieving of the word he had been told. Surely his Himmel still stood. He had shown her what he found when he had reached the lands where it had once stood, the black twisting smoke that defied the wind, never ending or fading.

The sight of the city of Prague filled the Engel with a sense of incredible relief and exhaustion. None had set out on their journey knowing what to expect, but what they had underwent was unimaginable. Few Engel experienced such things, and they were bound together in ways that could not be severed. Cassiel had feared they would be split apart, each joined to a new Fellowship. Even if that did happen, they would still share their bond.

With a sigh they all landed upon the flight platform at the top of the Himmel. The darkened city of Prague lay below them, most of its inhabitants asleep in a world dependent on candles for nocturnal light. Luriel sat a waking Rythe down, and he stretched his arms in relief. Mathiel spoke first.

“At last, we are home.”

Luriel nodded, massaging her sore arms. Her eyes were drawn to the corner of the flight platform where the Dreamseed had attacked her. She had stood in that very spot but a fortnight past when the Engel-like Dreamseed had descended from the night sky and nearly killed her. She had been watching for her new Fellowship to arrive, and had been certain it was one of them landing. It had been Kyriel who had saved her, wielding the sword Luriel know carried.

The inner chambers of the Himmel seem familiar and strange. Ramielites and Engel of the other Orders turned and greeted them, some coming and others going. Activity never ceased here in the halls, as Fellowships were dispatched to missions or returned from them.

Some recognized the group. Luriel heard whispers.

“…and they were sent to Vienna…”

“…I heard the rebel was destroyed…”

“…they failed and Adolphus died…”

“…not the old Nonni? How awful!”

Luriel ignored it, pushing on through the Engel. She had nearly reached the inner doors when they opened before her and an Engel nearly as old as Jaciel (it hurt to think of him) stood before her.

“Luriel?”

She nodded.

“And I assume this is your Fellowship fresh from Vienna?”

Again, she nodded. She did not know this Engel, but he was a Ramielite.

“Good. Follow me.”

Luriel motioned for the others to follow, and the Engel led them to a chamber set aside for her Fellowship. It was simple and unadorned, like most of the cellae provided for Fellowships. It reminded her of the chamber in which Touriel had first briefed them.

The older Engel waited for them to settle, and Luriel noticed a disapproving look cross his face as he stared at Rythe.

“Excuse me, you know my name brother, but I do not know yours?”

The senior Engel frowned, as if her question annoyed him.

“I am Gariel. Please prepare yourselves for an audience with the Ab. I will return shortly.”

With that he turned, exited, and the doors shut behind him.

Luriel sighed, not sure whether she should be surprised at the attitude of the Engel, and settled into one of the chairs designed especially for a winged being. She looked at the others. Rythe was sitting uncomfortably, his eyes wide as he considered the chamber around him. He had never been in the portions of the Himmel dedicated to Engel. His life was spent in the lowest levels, where the Templar trained. Cassiel seemed calm and at ease, enjoying the clean air and warm light of the chamber. Mathiel leaned back and put his feet up on the table.

Luriel looked at the lights herself. She remembered wondering in Vienna why the lights seemed so familiar.

“It’s odd, you know. These lights, they are very much like what they have in Vienna.”

Mathiel dropped his feet and sat up.

“Luriel, you have to be joking!”

“Why? Consider they way the look. The one’s in Vienna may flicker or blink more often, but they are essentially the same. I never considered it, but perhaps these are a form of technology also.”

Cassiel now admonished her.

“That is heresy. Stop it at once! The Himmel are of divine construction. There is no technology in these walls!”

His voice was indignant, and perhaps, a little afraid. Luriel closed her mouth, regretting her comments. She knew there must some connection to the way these lights worked and the ones in Vienna, but it was clear the subject was forbidden, even with her brothers. She would be more guarded with them, though she hated the thought of it.

After a few minutes the doors reopened, and Gariel returned to the tired Fellowship.

“The Ab awaits your presence. Follow me.”

The Engel rose, but Rythe remained sitting. It did not occur to him the Ab would want to see a mere Templar. Gariel glared down at him.

“All of you.”

Rythe rose, but the idea of seeing the Ab made him nervous. He was a brave warrior, and he had proved himself in battle many times. Still, this was Ab Abrogast, the leader of the Ramielite Order, voice of the Archangel Jeramiel. It terrified him, for he did not think he was worthy to be in the man’s presence.

Gariel led them to a small lift. The door opened before them and they stepped into the small space that would rise to the level of the Ab’s personal chambers. As they rose, Gariel expressed his disgust at the Templar’s evident fear.

“You are a Templar. Show some backbone!”

Luriel spoke up in defense of Rythe.

“He is merely afraid he is unworthy to stand before the Ab. And I might add, he is wrong.”

Gariel shut his mouth, but his eyes were furious. He was angered she had the presumption to argue with him before the others. He was her better, and he would remind her of that fact soon.

The doors opened, and the private office of the Ab awaited the Fellowship.

[Basileus]

Was there any news at GenCon about a possible re-issuing of Engel in English?

[SotDX]

I was waiting to hear something more solid, but since you ask...

My wife and I had the wonderful experience of meeting Oliver Hoffman and Oli Graute at GenCon. We had a nice lunch, and I got to ask them the very question you are asking me.

What I can say is this:

They were at GenCon trying to work out a new English publisher.

They brought quite a few of their new German works with them (I got to see them and they looked incredible. The art was amazing!)

They seemed hopeful on the first day. When I ran into them on the third day after the big costume contest all they told me was a guarded: "we think we will have some news for you very soon."

So, my theory is that they were able to make some agreements. My hope is that we will hear very soon. I know for a fact that in emails following GenCon one of the creators made a reference to needing to contact a RPG company to followup on certain things discussed at the Con. While I do not know how that followup conversation went, the very fact it was occuring seemed promising.

So, not a straight yes or no, but a very strong maybe. One can never know for certain until the books are on the shelves, but at least we are much more hopeful than before GenCon.

Cheers,

SotDX

[SotDX]

It is an amazing thing how experience can change perceptions. Luriel had only been away from the Himmel for nigh two weeks and yet the chamber before her seemed completely different.

The hall was massive, a large desk and endless shelves of books dominating the room. Banners and flags hung above, adornments of the Order. This was the center of all Ramielite power, for within this chamber the decisions that affected an entire Order of the Church were made. Here she had stood but a child before the Ab, receiving her orders for the mission she now returned from.

Luriel stepped before the wide desk unafraid and proud. She no longer feared the Ab sitting before her, for he was a diminished figure in her eyes. Instead of an infallible supreme voice, he now was only a middle-aged balding figure with large spectacles.

The Ab regarded the Engel as they entered his presence with a subtle nod, his eyes magnified behind the lenses. If he was surprised that Luriel led her Fellowship before him in the manner reserved for the Engel of Michael, he did not let on.

The Fellowship stood behind her, Mathiel and Cassiel quietly absorbing their surroundings. It was a great honor to be called before the Ab of any Order, even if not their own. Ab Abrogast, the Ab of the Ramielite Order, was known to be one of the wisest and most learned men in all of Europe. He led the scholars and lore-keepers, master historian and fount of wisdom.

Rythe stood behind the two Engel, still convinced he was unworthy to be in the exalted chambers of the head of his Order. He was a Templar and a proud warrior, but this was Ab Abrogast! He had never before been in any of the high levels of the Himmel, and yet today he stood in its highest chamber. Only the Archangel Jeramiel himself was higher.

Luriel and the Engel waited. It was right for the Ab to speak first. He did not make them pause for long. With a sigh, he began to speak.

“I think you all know that knowledge in books is not always true or right. Often, sadly, it can be corrupting and false. There is a reason only our Order has been presented the burden of literacy, and for that reason we must always walk a fine line between enlightenment and heresy.”

As he finished these words he looked directly at Luriel, his gaze cold and firm. She refused to react, standing strong and firm. She had made decisions that were questionable, but she had acted always in what she knew to be the right. Still, she wondered, what had the Sword, Magdiel, told the Ab. What did he know?

“Luriel, as a Ramielite, you are especially susceptible to these dangers. You are young and inexperienced in the guile of the world.”

He spoke to her now by name, and she found it hard not to flinch at his words. Behind her Cassiel and Mathiel both tensed, their worst apprehensions of this meeting coming to pass.

“The traitor might have said things to confuse you, mislead you… to lead you astray. You must learn to be vigilant of these falsities for those such as the destroyed betrayer will plant poisons in your mind in order to erode your reason.”

Luriel flinched at last when he spoke of Thagiel. Inside, she wanted to cry out that he was no traitor, that he was a savior to so many… that he was pure inside till his dying act! She would give the Ab the letters, and that would change the tone of his words, she hoped.

“Ab, I have brought letters for you from-”

Ab Abrogast silenced her.

“I have not asked for such yet.”

He glared at her, and the strength and confidence so vital inside Luriel began to fade. She felt the child she was return, if only for the moment. Her mouth shut, and Abrogast turned back to the rest of the Fellowship and smiled.

“I am pleased that missives were brought. Who are they from?”

Luriel placed both letters before the Ab.

“Ab, they are from Viktor for both you and the Pontifex.”

A vein bulged on the Ab’s forehead and he closed his eyes in frustration.

“Viktor?”

Luriel realized her mistake. Calling the Satrap of Vienna by his first name in so casual a way showed an unacceptable level of informal involvement with an enemy of the Church. Behind her Mathiel and Cassiel grimaced, afraid the already unpleasant encounter would now grow all the more worse. With an uncertain voice, Luriel corrected her words.

“The Diadoche Viktor Constance, my Ab.”

The Ab nodded, sighed, and removed his spectacles. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, replaced his glasses, and smiled at Mathiel and Cassiel through his obvious frustration.

“I want all of you to know how proud I am of you. You have done much good, though you have faced terrible sacrifices. It is never easy to lose a brother or a sister, but you all banded together and fought through the dark moments showing strength and resolve. I do not want any of you to think that you somehow failed. Your duty was to shepherd Adolphus to Vienna safely, and without a doubt you completed your mission.”

Mathiel and Cassiel nodded, relieved at the Ab’s words and obvious praise. Luriel, though, was guarded in her reaction. She had already sensed the Ab’s unease present and suspicion regarding all that she had been exposed. Burning images of Jaciel still echoed in her mind. Would she suffer the same fate? She would not give herself over freely.

“As I said, I grieve for your Michaelite and your Gabrielite. I promise you others will be assigned to your Fellowship, and while they will never take the place of those who have fallen, the wounds will heal with time.”

The Ab paused, and smiled warmly. It seemed they were not to be separated, something all had feared as an inevitable certainty. At least together they could try and find some understanding and meaning behind the past few days.

The Ab motioned past the Engel and to the Templar who stood back from the others.

“And you, son… I want you to know that I am very proud of you. Rythe, isn’t it?”

Rythe nodded, stepping forward slightly and standing at attention.

“You have fought bravely and defended your charge with honor. You are to be commended. You have shown the world the mettle of our Order’s Templar.”

Rythe’s heart burned brightly in his chest. He would never forget this day or those words. He remembered them until his last breath.

The Ab nodded, and then his tone grew more serious.

“You will each be asked questions about this mission, as it was most unusual and I understand you all witnessed and underwent some most uncommon ordeals. Now, if all of you but Luriel will excuse us, there are some additional matters that must be addressed.”

Again, his gaze fell upon Luriel and she felt her pulse quicken.

Luriel turned and smiled at her Fellowship as they left her alone with the Ab. Mathiel met her gaze for one moment, trying to give her strength and counsel with only his eyes. His expression seemed to say to her to guard her words and use caution.

Once alone, the Ab stood up from his desk and walked around before her. He crossed his arms and looked at her, his expression impossible to comprehend. Was he angry? Upset with her? Should she speak first… try to explain herself?

“Ab… Please let me explain-”

“No explanations for the moment. Just listen.”

Luriel nodded. He continued.

“Do not leave the Order.”

Luriel blinked, confused. Leave the order?

“Whatever you think you might have learned in Vienna, you need to stay where you belong. Do not veer from the sacred path Jeramiel has placed before you. Do not believe the lies and deceit Thagiel used to cloud your mind.”

He knew something, definitely. The Sword must have told him something very worrisome. Did he think she would turn into Thagiel, a traitor? Did he know about the vials?

The Ab reached out and gently caressed Luriel’s shoulder, his face fixed with a sensitive and understanding expression.

“I miss Jaciel also.”

Luriel tried to harden her features, not wanting to let him see how the name affected her. The fire burning him…the smell of his flesh…

“I was greatly attached to him, you see. We talked often.”

She could not remember Jaciel ever saying the Ab and he spoke often.

“Sadly, older Engel become confused. This is an impure world, and Engel are pure beings of spirit trapped for a time in flawed vessels. It was his time… even past his time to be honest, and that was the source of his paranoia and worries.”

Luriel nodded, but her mouth tasted of bile.

“You and I, Luriel, how often have we spoke… together like this?”

“Only twice, Ab.”

“I see. Well, that will change now. I want to apologize for you not being put into a Fellowship sooner, but it just never seemed the right time for you and your skills. Still, now I see just how capable you are. You led this Fellowship through fire and ice, and I am so very proud of you for doing it. It pained me to send you all on such a dangerous mission, but I had no choice. I had to send a young Fellowship.”

Luriel nodded. She wanted to hear the explanation from his lips. Perhaps she would finally learn the truth behind the mission, now that it was over and done.

“You see, the traitor would have destroyed any other Engel we sent. Other emissaries have been sent over the years since he took up roost in Vienna, but all were murdered by his savage hands. I had to send someone wide-eyed and innocent for there to be any hope of this mission succeeding… and well…”

He looked back at his desk where the two sealed letters lay, and then sighed.

“I understand, Ab. I did confront some things I would call unsettling, but…”

Abrogast raised his hands and stopped her.

“Luriel, if you wish to confess anything, I will make certain a monach is ready to assist you. Now is the time to return to your Fellowship, rest, and share the specifics of your experiences with those I have appointed.”

Luriel nodded, managed a smile, and turned to leave. She was not eager to be interrogated, despite his sugar-coating of the process. Confess? What about Jaciel? They had their own secrets they should confess to her.

The Ab said one last thing to her as she left his chamber.

“And Luriel… welcome home.”

[SotDX]

The four sat together in the darkened room. Their meeting with the Ab was complete, and now they had to wait. In time they would be called before men with questions. All of them knew the unsettling truth: if they spoke without restraint they would all suffer.

Each did not doubt the actions of the other, for the four had faced terrible things and learned trust. All the same, those who had not seen would doubt and decry their actions. With unspoken words, each reckoned on what must remain unsaid.

Luriel broke the silence, her voice soft but strong.

“I think we all know there are some things better left unsaid.”

Cassiel nodded, and Mathiel sighed. Rythe looked down, uneasy with the idea of deceit before Pater Church. Even he nodded, if barely. Luriel continued.

“I… I think perhaps the first thing is Mathiel’s illness.”

Mathiel leaned back at the mention of his brush with death. The memory of a Healing Engel wanting to decapitate him would not soon leave him.

“Unless it is brought up directly, I suggest we avoid any mention of the subject. I’m afraid of what might come of it, both for Mathiel and for the rest of us.”

And she wished to keep any mention of her verboten journey to the Undercity of Prague from harsh judges of her Order. She knew they would want to know how she had cured Mathiel if they learned of his illness, and to tell them the source of his cure would be unthinkable. Her mind flashed on the Airoler, and the valley.

Cassiel asked what should be said of Thagiel? What should they say? What could they say? Cassiel continued.

“I fear of what might happen if they knew how much time you spent with him. They already think of him as a corrupting influence.”

Mathiel watched Luriel from the corner of his eyes. He still had suspicions as to just how close Luriel and the Renegade had been, and deep within him a jealous snake stirred ever so slightly.

“Well, Cass, I think perhaps its best we stick to the basics. We should not speak of the prophecy or the strange powers he displayed…”

She paused, considering whether to say it. With a little hesitation, she continued.

“And definitely we should not mention what happened when you confronted him.”

Cassiel’s eyes reflected the sting of her words. His greatest shame had transpired atop Thagiel’s lonely tower, and to have a reminder of it was most terrible. He rose to his feet and glared at her.

“Yes. Yes… let us never speak of it again.”

He walked out of the room upset, leaving them. Rythe rose and went after him, his face reflecting his confusion as to what had happened. Mathiel as well looked lost, but remained seated as if in expectation of some explanation.

Luriel sighed, and decided he had a right to know as it affected them all.

“Atop the tower, when Cassiel was convinced Thagiel had murdered Adolphus, he lashed out at him with his healing power in a perverted fashion. Instead of the touch of restoration, his gift became that of wounding and injury.”

Mathiel nodded, considering her words.

“I had heard of such in rumor, that a few of the Healing Hands had found a way of reversing their gift into a manner more suited for war. But I don’t understand… why is this such a terrible thing? Does his new offensive gift not make him more effective in our war against the Dreamseed? Can not such a power be used in service to the High?”

“Math, Cass is a gentle and caring soul. To use his nature in such a way is an abomination to him. It would destroy him to lash out in anger and annihilate life.”

At the mention, Luriel unconsciously rubbed her face where the faded scar of Cassiel’s strike had left its mark.

And so it was decided, between Mathiel and Luriel, that no mention was to be made of these subjects, and nothing was to be said of the strange artifacts found in the forgotten places beneath Vant.

The two Engel sat in the quiet, waiting for Cassiel and Rythe to return. In their silence, each felt the exhaustion of the past few days weigh all the more heavily on them. Mathiel grinned, leaning back, and asked Luriel if they should not go ahead and meditate.

“Waiting, after all, won’t make it happen any faster.”

She nodded, but felt reluctance.

“Math, to be honest… part of me is terrified of the resting. Dark dreams have come to me of late, images of worry and ill omen. Sometimes I have this dream of a walker on the waters. The figure is awful in form and raiment, and with him comes a feeling of the worst corners of hell itself.”

She told Mathiel of her powerlessness in the dreams, lying broken upon a cold sandy beach. He listened, and she sensed a hint of recognition in his eyes.

“I have not had that dream, and glad I am of it! But I have had dark dreams of late.”

“Tell me of them.”

“I… well… let us merely say they are of shadows and voices in the dark, and leave it at that. Alright?”

He crossed his arms, defensive and obviously unwilling to continue. Luriel did not press, and merely sat next to him, both comforting and being comforted, as he slipped into a deep meditative state.

She did not expect any rest to come, not with the anxiety of the interrogation ahead and the ready memories of the past week still strong. With a forlorn look, she left Mathiel alone and went off in search of peace within the familiar books of the great Himmel Library.

[SotDX]

Luriel stepped into the vaulted chamber and let the smell of paper overwhelm her. Here, in the great hall lined with tomes, was the core of her Order. She stood within the greatest library in the world, the many layered halls and archives of the Ramielite Order. The history of the world lay around her, its wisdom captured in scribed and printed pages.

The hour was late, and she saw no one else in the archives. She knew somewhere in the labyrinthine depths a handful of archivists were buried away, awash in the sea of texts. She smiled, memories of endless nights spent here studying and learning. Walking down the aisles, her fingers gently caressed the bindings, each a window into a world lost but remembered.

On a whim she selected a volume that had often comforted her on lonely nights. It was a history of the mortal world, a competitor to the more preferred volume by Wendel. Her fellow postulants had all thought her strange for reading someone other than the famous Wendel’s history, but she had found an honesty and candor in her own chosen scholar’s words that was missing in much of what she was guided to read.

Adolphus had approved of her choice, she recalled with a sigh.

Sitting at a reading table with seats made to accommodate winged students, Luriel thumbed through worn pages. The blessing of perfect recall was a curse, ironically. She could not rediscover the wonders of yesterday, as she was always able to remember the past in every detail. Each page was as fresh as the first reading.

Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Luriel thought of her mysterious benefactor, Maetoth, and his current unknown situation. Closing the book, she sat back and mentally relived the final moments on his strange ship with her brothers. The Dreamseed had surrounded the vessel, descending like a swarming nightmare. Was he dead? Could something like him, seemingly old and young, ancient and new, actually perish? He entered dreams as men opened doors.

She found herself staring absently at a faded painting on the wall. The painting depicted two Monachs standing side by side, one old and white-bearded, the other a younger and hairless aide. They seemed close, the older with a fatherly arm around his young charge. Luriel did not remember the painting, but she had always been focused on the books while in these rooms, not the decorations. Something about the painting caught her eye. Forgetting Maetoth, she stood up and stepped closer, studying the faces.

“It is of Ab Theosphus.”

Luriel turned, surprised at the voice. An old archivist had approached, and smiled at both her and the painting.

“Ah. I am not familiar with him?”

The archivist clucked her tongue, as was the way of many of those who immerse themselves in the adoration of the past when confronted with any ignorance of that which had come before.

“Ab Theosphus, Ab of the Ramielite Order in the 25th Century, from 2422 to 2435. He was a wise and learned scholar, and served his God and brothers well.”

Luriel nodded. The old man in the painting had wise and kind eyes, a rare combination. The other face, young and vital, seemed odd to her eyes.

“And the other man? The one with the shaven face and head?”

The archivist walked closer, squinting.

“Hmm. Well, I think perhaps that is a favored pupil… many Ab’s take protégés, and Theosphus was no different. If memory serves, it was some rural lad from the Eastern shores, from Brestiz or such. As for why he is shaven… ”

Luriel nodded, deciding it was ultimately just a distraction. She needed to think, to focus. Letting the archivist scuttle on, she sat back down and found a poignant passage about the passing of the world before the floods.

“And so it was that man’s rule was bounded by waters and by death. Let there be no mistake, the works and wonders of man were wide and welcome, but before the waves and withering all was nothing.”

She was asleep. The dreams came without warning.

She was with Jaciel, but he was burning. Fire raged around her, singeing her hair and threatening to engulf her at any moment. Jaciel was awash in flame, orange and red crisscrossing his blazing form.

She opened her mouth to scream, but gagged as the smell of his bubbling flesh seized her senses. He spoke, flames hissing from his mouth.

“The waves and the withering came, but nothing was worse than the fires!”

Trying to shut the image of Jaciel being consumed in a metal oven from her mind, she pushed the image way. It would not go. Jaciel stepped before her, the flames almost covering his face.

“Listen to me: I am burning. Do not trust their lies. We die by inches… some by yards… others step off willing… DO NOT!”

The flames roared out and Luriel screamed, but the fire was cold. She opened her eyes, and saw the figure on the water walking toward her. He saw her as well. Turning away, she found herself looking down at a man squatting in the dark.

Pages were spread out around him, and in his shaking hands he held a long quill. He was writing feverishly, seemingly-frantic to finish some notes. He muttered to himself. Drawing closer, she could see the side of his face. He wore glasses, and his skin was haggard and pale. Ink stained his arms and sleeves. She could only barely perceive his words.

“…the Himmel fell for a reason… the pattern… I must finish… I will show the truth to them… I have an obligation… the Samaelites and their most wondrous gift… why they had to fall…”

Luriel blinked, confused. Samaelites? They were the first Order to fall. But it was known why they fell. They had been destroyed defending the Isle of Corsica, where their Himmel had been located. Was there something else to the story?

Then she heard a girl crying. Behind her was a young girl on her knees inside a Church, a girl she knew. She had dreamed this before. The girl was praying through her sobs for her father and brother. Brother was lost… father had gone after him, but something bad had happened to him. And now her mother was begging outside…

Begging for what?

And then the door to the church was thrown open as the smell of old grease filled the room and the heavy clank of armor echoed.

Mother crying… a sack at her feet… a foul metal nightmare of a man-thing dragging her away…

Not her… but the child. Only the child.

And then she was flying, free, in the night sky. A city is beneath her, and she is unfettered and unafraid. The dream gives her peace.

But peace is fragile.

At once, the calm is shattered by the Black Engel descending upon her, tearing and ripping. She is over Roma, the city below waiting to catch her in its terrible embrace. Terrors of the ebon sky eviscerate her…

Luriel woke upset and in tears. Feeling suffocated and confined, she hurried out of the library (no comfort in familiar places) and all but raced to the flight platform and the morning sky. Soaring in the morning sun, the just-waking city of Prague beneath her, the drowning feeling from her nightmares began to fade.

Landing, her breath still ragged and uneven, she prayed for balance. As if in answer, an Engel landed next to her of her own Order, and introduced himself.

“I am Brathiel. Are you well?”

Luriel nodded, not wanting to show her unease and vertigo.

“Thank you. I am Luriel. I will be fine.”

Brathiel nodded, recognizing her name. She did not know him, but he seemed to know more about her than she felt at ease with.

“I have heard of your adventures with Adolphus in your journey to Vienna, and of your meeting with him. I mean… of course… Thagiel.”

Luriel nodded, expecting the Engel to speak the “Renegade’s” name with venom, but none came. Instead, he seemed interested. It was a refreshing thing.

“Tell me of him?”

Luriel smiled, struggling with the words.

“Well… he was not what the say of him. He believed he did God’s will even till his end. He died for the lives of all those in his city. He fought against the same evil we do, and was kind… wise… and worthy.”

Brathiel grinned, and nodded.

“Thank you for the words. I appreciate hearing-”

He stopped, as several Engel were walking out onto the flight platform. Luriel saw a conspiratorial look cross his face, and he leaned close to her.

“Beware the shadows of Roma Aeterna. Be ever vigilant of the night sky.”

Luriel opened her mouth but he moved away at once, vanishing into the crowd of Engel and into the Himmel. She tried to follow, but in the sudden rush of Engel taking morning flights she lost him. Searching for a few minutes, she at last decided to return to her room, hoping to find strength for the coming day among her brothers.

Instead she found an empty room, save for Gariel. He stood waiting for her, glowering.

“At last. You are required; the questioning has begun!”

[SotDX]

Luriel sat alone in the cold room.

Her brothers were not with her. If they were being questioned, it was in some separate place. Each to their own perdition, she thought. Stretching her arms and wings, she considered the bare chamber around her. One chair faced her, presumably for her questioner (not yet arrived). The walls were bare. No windows let light into the room, but the warm diffused glow of the Himmel kept the room from darkness.

Tapping her fingers on the hilt of Kyriel’s sword (the frozen blade), she worried over the others and what they might be facing. In her mind’s eye she saw Rythe being interrogated, Cassiel in tears…

The door opened and in came a woman dressed in the simple robes of a begine. The woman had graying hair, and a kind face that did not radiate treachery. The woman smiled at Luriel, seated herself in the single chair, and opened a folder filled with pages of parchment.

Luriel waited, not certain whether she should speak first. The woman resolved the conflict.

“Well-met, Luriel. My name is Ellen. I am the factor assigned to speak with you today.”

Luriel nodded, somewhat at ease. She had imagined a Sword arriving to interrogate her, dripping with accusations and threats. This kind-faced woman had no evil in her.

“I am happy to help in anyway I can, Ellen.”

Ellen nodded, and smiled. Luriel noticed something else, as well. Unless she was mistaken, the factor was actually nervous. Ellen then confirmed as much.

“You will have to forgive me, Luriel… but I have only done this sort of thing a few times before. I mean, debriefed Engel... well… it all makes me a little uncomfortable. Can you please bear with me?”

Luriel nodded, and smiled at the poor woman. Perhaps she had been worried over nothing. If this was the questioner she was facing, then surely the others were facing no challenge.

“Now… yes… I see here… let’s begin with your experiences in the village of Groten. You were traveling with your Fellowship shepherding the nonnus Adolphus to Vienna when you discovered these murders and the man you call Hoffman.”

Luriel told Ellen of the events of Groten, of the bodies of the children, the desecration of Church symbols, and of the powers of the ex-Ramielite Hoffman then posing as a Gabrielite named Bassius.

“So you say he had the power to fly, change his appearance, move things without touching them… all very fascinating.”

Luriel nodded. It was true that Hoffman was unlike the other tempted she had encountered. Neither Davrus in St Terrels nor Lucius in Vienna had demonstrated such great power.

“Now, Luriel, tell me more about this map you say you found in his hidden chamber under the town church?”

The map had been a chart of the future progress of the Infernos. Each line of smoke and destruction had been drawn to its current position and then extended out, not in direct lines but in patterns. And when those patterns were considered in their totality… they almost looked like the signum of Engel. All of this Ellen wrote down, looking both disturbed but deeply focused.

“But that was not the last time we met Hoffman.”

Ellen looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Yes?”

“Returning from Vienna, we were told that a caravan had left St Terrels with Touriel, hoping to bring her to Prague to be healed. It never arrived, as Dreamseed attacked. Hoffman… he took her.”

Luriel tasted bile saying the words. It was not fair that Touriel suffered such a fate. She could not dare imagine what they had done to her. Thankfully, Ellen did not press with more questions on the subject, and instead moved on to the question of leading the Fellowship.

“And so you ended up leading the Fellowship when both Touriel and Kyriel fell. Obviously it is not a conventional idea for a Ramielite to lead her Fellowship. How did it arrive that you would take the Michaelite’s role?”

Luriel considered her response, and then replied with careful words.

“When Touriel and Kyriel fell, it nearly destroyed us. We were all young, new to the world, and unprepared for such tragedy. Still, if one of us had not taken up the charge the mission would have died that night. Adolphus insisted we continue on immediately, and he told me he wanted me to lead them.”

Ellen nodded, writing. If she judged Luriel for her words and actions, it was impossible to tell. Then the tone of the questioning began to shift.

“Speaking of the mission, tell me just what you actually knew of its purpose?”

“Little. Initially we were told only that we were protecting Adolphus on the journey to Vienna, which was a hostile city in a hostile land. With the help of the Templars, we were to get him there safely. Other than that Touriel would say very little. As things progressed, though…”

Ellen waited.

“…well, I mean I learned that Adolphus was traveling to Vienna to meet with Thagiel. It became clear to us he was trying to get him to come back to the church. It seemed that there was some history between Adolphus and Thagiel. It also became apparent, near the end, that we Engel were chosen as Thagiel would not see such young Engel as a threat.”

“I see. Now, tell me about… Ian Longwalke.”

“He helped us. We were attacked by Dreamseed near a farm, and Adolphus was set upon by one of the beasts where we could not get to him in time. Ian saved him, killing the Dreamseed. He then became our guide through the lands around Vienna, helping us to reach the city safely without incident.”

Ellen wrote something, and then smiled. There was something uncomfortable in that smile, Luriel thought.

“Do you think it was appropriate to receive help from such an agent of the enemy?”

Luriel frowned.

“Did you understand what I said? Ian was hidden from us. We did not even know he was in the field watching. But when Adolphus was going to be savaged by one of the Scares and we could not reach him Ian revealed himself and saved him. He could have just watched us die if he was really an agent of the enemy!”

Ellen smiled again, and the room seemed colder. She wrote her notes, and continued.

“I see. Tell me more about the layout of Ian’s city.”

Luriel was uncertain what she meant.

“I want to know where the generators were, generally speaking. What were the armaments, the fortifications? How well defended certain portions of the city were. And we will want you to draw a detailed map.”

Luriel looked at Ellen stunned. Had Viktor not sent letters to Ab Abrogast and the Pontifex declaring his want for peace and trade?

“Luriel? Did you not understand my question?”

“No… I understood. Of course I will prepare a diagram of the city for you. And I will note where the generators are to the best of my ability. But I’d like to say Viktor is honestly concerned with building a better relationship with the Church. He does not want war.”

Ellen smiled, this time like someone humoring a small child. Luriel was beginning to hate the woman.

“Of course. Tell me more about Viktor Constance and his people?”

Luriel told Ellen about the different levels of society in Vienna, of the Tek-Keeps and merchants. She spoke of the Cult of the Machine and its twisted aspects.

“And there is anti-church propaganda there. Lies are spread about the church.”

Still, Luriel tried to describe Viktor as a good and noble leader. He was a rational man who cared deeply about his lands and people.

“Do you think Viktor is receptive to joining the Church and making Vienna a protectorate?”

Luriel shook her head. They would die for their freedom and independence, and in Ellen’s eyes Luriel saw the truth that they might have to.

“Luriel, why were you doing research in one of the heretic libraries in Vienna?”

Ellen’s tone had become more accusing, but Luriel met her gaze without flinching.

“I was doing research with the different resources they have there about the origins of the Lord of the Flies. I decided with their pre-Flood archives I might learn things that would be difficult to find elsewhere.”

Ellen did not seem pleased.

“Luriel, explain to me why a pre-Flood archive would help in such a matter? The Lord of the Flies did not manifest here in our world until man’s hubris brought forth the plagues and floods.”

Luriel wanted to speak her mind, answer that if they were wrong, and the Lord of the Flies had been somehow responsible for the flood, then it had not been God’s punishment for man’s sins that had brought their world to ruin. Technology was not a tool of sin. Instead, she only sighed, answering that she was always looking for more answers.

“I see. Then let’s move on to a more sensitive matter. It seems clear to us that the rebel Engel Thagiel, the traitor, murdered Adolphus by pushing him from his tower. Do you agree with the accuracy of that statement?”

Luriel struggled not to react. Her temper was already rising. Ellen merely gazed at her with an icy stare, waiting for her response. If she argued that Thagiel had not killed Adolphus, there would be consequences. In her own way, Ellen had told Luriel what her answer should be.

It was not the truth. But neither was it the truth that Adolphus had killed himself. Thagiel had toyed with him, telling him… something… that had unhinged him. But Thagiel had not meant to kill him. The old man’s death had nearly destroyed him. Something Adolphus told Thagiel had so thrown him that he had been unable to reach the nonnus before he fell to his death. That name… “Leif.”

Ellen waited, impatiently. Luriel had to answer.

“No. I do not agree with that statement.”

Ellen sighed, frowning. She tapped her quill on her papers.

“I see. Perhaps you would like to explain?”

Swallowing, Luriel answered in the only way she thought she could.

“Adolphus… jumped.”

Ellen’s eyes narrowed, and she scribbled down the answer. Luriel continued.

“I know you think that Thagiel was some kind of monster, some kind of betrayer. But that is not true. He left the church because he felt humanity needed to band together to defeat the Lord of the Flies and for his own reasons he felt the Urbanis League was the better way of doing that. He saw his entire order destroyed, lost everything he knew! He was not a monster. He died defending his city when Lucius created the Inferno with his Rayth stone!”

Ellen nodded, but her eyes made it clear that Luriel’s defense of the traitor fell on deaf ears.

“Tell me more about this… this ‘wrath’ stone.”

“They… well Thagiel helped explain it… it was this kind of strange black stone that seemed to feed on the fear and anxiety of the city. As panic set in with the storms and the explosions, and the worry over an invasion by the church, the stone seemed to grow and pulse. Then Lucius, the tempted, was killed by a shot by Longwalke and that seemed to give the stone what it needed to burst open and start the Inferno. If I understood the tempted’s ravings, the stone had been brought to him by a Dreamseed.”

Ellen smiled as if Luriel had just given her something.

“And how, pray tell, do you think Thagiel knew of these exotic tools of the Tempter?”

“I… I do not know.”

Ellen did not say what she thought, but it was plain. Thagiel knew about such stones because he himself was an agent of the Tempter, corrupted as they all wanted to think.

“But do not forget it was Thagiel who stopped the Inferno.”

“Luriel, do not undercut your own involvement in this affair. I am certain you were instrumental in the saving of the city.”

“It was my vision that showed us where to go, but it was Thagiel who flew into the fire and called down the lightning. He burst the tower of flame as he died.”

“If he is truly dead.”

Luriel looked up, confused by the statement. Did Ellen think Thagiel still lived? Before she could respond, Ellen shut her folder and stood up, and smiled coldly at Luriel.

“Thank you for your help and cooperation. I know this has been a trying time for you, so much loss and tragedy. Be sure to know that the Order is proud of your accomplishments.”

Luriel nodded, biting back the words that threatened to spill out of her mouth. Ellen walked toward the door, turning to add one last sentence.

“Someone will be along to fetch you. Please wait here until that time.”

And then Luriel’s interrogator was gone.

In the eternity that seemed to follow, Luriel went over the questioning turning it around in her head. She got angrier and more upset at the thought of their focus on calling Thagiel a traitor and a murderer. He had died for the lives of so many. She had cared about him…

At last Mathiel entered the chamber, pleased to find Luriel.

“There you are! It took forever for someone to tell me where you were waiting.”

Luriel sensed unease from him.

“How did your questioning go, brother?”

Mathiel crossed his arms, and told her. They had asked him about his illness. They knew of the secret sickness that had nearly claimed his life, the infection from the “night child” that had bitten him.

Luriel’s mind raced. How could they have known of it? Ab Sarah had promised to keep it a secret, and Luriel had made no mention of it. Even Ellen had not asked of the subject. Had the Sword read her mind atop the library? Somehow seen?

“They asked me about the illness. They asked about what I thought of Thagiel.”

They had also asked him about Luriel, and her strange fascination with heretical technology.

“And… and what did you say, brother?”

“I told them what I think. You are the smartest and most cunning Engel I know, and if you see a need for technology then there is one. With the Raguelites gone, even the last one now, there may still be a need for some Engel to take such a role. I can see no better Engel than a Ramielite, especially one as gifted as you!”

Luriel smiled, and embraced her brother. This was the Mathiel she needed, the strong right arm.

Together, the two returned to their chamber and found Cassiel and Rythe already comparing notes on their individual experiences. The four embraced, and Luriel discovered their experiences had not all been the same.

Rythe had faced three interrogators to her one, two templars and one monach. They had grilled him on his actions, the death of Thagiel, and asked very negative questions of Luriel and her leadership. He had defended her and their actions, loyal to the end.

Cassiel had two interrogators, both Monachs, and he did not wish to repeat the evil questions they had confronted him with. All he would say is he would let no ill be spoke of Luriel, or of he who had sacrificed himself so that a city would not die.

Mathiel, laughing Mathiel, had only had one. He did not tell the others the truth about the questioning of his sickness, but confirmed the rest of his questions to have been the same. Then all three turned to Luriel, wanting to hear how many interrogators she had held against?

Luriel smiled. “Only one. She was a cunning woman named Ellen. At first I thought her to be inexperienced, but I realize it was all a game. She was making me feel at ease so that she could better drive the knife in.”

Rythe looked horrified. “Did you say her name was Ellen?”

The others turned, confused. Luriel nodded. “Yes, Ellen. Why?”

Rythe blinked, and answered.

“Ellen is the head of the factors. She is the chief of those who question the Engel on their missions.”

Luriel grimaced at the woman’s lies. Ellen had said she was new at this.

Luriel nodded to Rythe. “Well, all I can say about her is she was as pleasing to be around as that foul-Engel Gariel.”

Gariel, who had entered without her realizing, and had overheard this, was not amused.

[SotDX]

Luriel stiffened, hoping that it was not Gariel who had just cleared his throat behind her.

Unfortunately, as she turned, it was Gariel’s frowning face glaring down at her. She resisted a mad urge to smile back at him.

“The Fellowship is summoned. The Ab wishes to address all of you.”

An evil smile crept in on the sides of Gariel’s mouth, and Luriel felt her heart sink. The interrogations… had the things they had said condemned them? Even with their best efforts to hide the more glaring heresies of the past weeks, things did not look good. Still, steeling herself, Luriel acted as the leader of her Fellowship.

“So be it. We are ready. Mathiel, Cassiel, Rythe, follow me.”

Gariel seemed surprised, if only for a moment, at her show of strength and calm. But the moment passed, and he stopped Rythe as he tried to walk by.

“I said the Fellowship. I meant only the Fellowship.”

Luriel’s calm ended with his words.

“Rythe is part of our Fellowship. He goes with us.”

Mathiel winced, not at Luriel’s words, but Gariel’s pleased expression. The older Engel was itching for a fight, and it looked to him that Luriel had just given him a reason.

Gariel stood in front of her with his muscled arms crossed, more than a foot and a half taller than her small form.

“The Templar is no Engel. He was attached to your mission to support you and help protect your charge. And considering he failed in doing just that, I recommend you listen to my orders.”

The Templar? Rythe was one of them, Engel be damned. All Templar prayed that upon their death they would return to the world as Engel. They wore armor similar to their winged champions, and always tried to act in a way that emulated the perfection of Engel. Gariel’s words were a slap in the face of Rythe’s honor.

“Rythe fought alongside us, bled with us, and never for a moment failed us! If I say he comes with us, he-”

“Enough!”

Gariel shouted and his face reddened. Luriel was ready to fight for Rythe, just as she would for Mathiel or Cassiel. If it had to be this way, then so be it. She was not eager to be called in front of the Ab for her crimes, but one more rebellion was not going to make much difference, or so she thought.

Rythe, though, had a different idea. He was worried what was coming for his Engel Fellowship, and wanted nothing to make the situation worse. So, though he hated to intrude in the argument of two holy Engel, he spoke.

“Honored Engel, please allow me to state that I agree with Gariel. It is not right for me to return with the Fellowship. The Ab was already kind enough to receive me when we first arrived. I shall remain here and await your return.”

Luriel bit her lip, not wanting to give up the fight. She looked back at Mathiel, and he nodded gently, as if to say he thought it best to give up for the moment. Hating herself (and Gariel all the more), Luriel assented, and the Fellowship of three (four no longer) left Rythe behind, herded along by the scornful presence of Gariel.

As the Engel rose in the Jacob’s Ladder, the three looked to each other, each seeing in the others’ eyes worry and fear. Luriel imagined a contingent of Swords waiting for her around the Ab. Would they sentence her to the fires, as they had Jaciel? The feeling of the flames spreading over her made her shiver. Then she noticed Gariel smirking.

To his eyes, these Engel were all but postulants, wings barely grown. He had seen the world for eight long years, fighting Dreamseed and guiding several Fellowships with his profound wisdom. These pup-Engel had flittered with the darkness in Vienna, and he was eager to see them properly scared back to the fold. Grinning, he remembered when he had seen Abrogast ‘discipline’ other Engel who wandered outside acceptable thinking. As Ramielites, his order had a sacred duty to gird themselves from the subtle and sensuous lure of heretic thinking. It was bad enough that some of the human Ramielites had been misled, such as the infamous Helder… but the thought of a Ramielite Thagiel! Shaking off the thought, he held the door open as the Fellowship exited to their deserved reward.

Luriel was relieved when Gariel vanished as the door shut behind them. Still, the ordeal before them was very present. The Ab sat behind his massive desk, two rolled-up scrolls before him. He stood up as they entered his chamber. Cassiel was certain he was scowling.

In fact, though, the Ab was smiling. Beaming, even. He called to them to come to him.

“Engel, my dear Engel… come before me. I have the most wonderful news!”

Each Engel looked around, ready for the trap to spring. Were they dreaming? Were they not to be annihilated? They stood before the Ab, each bowing before the head of the Ramielite Order.

Abrogast smiled at each of them, pausing, and then explained.

“I have received word from Roma. The Pontifex has ordered you to present yourselves there at once to receive special honors for your great work. You are to leave at once, delaying only to morning.”

They were being called to Roma? Luriel’s mind reeled. The nightmare… black winged forms chasing her over a city at night… over Roma at night… with a cold certainty she knew her death waited for her in the sky over Roma. With a start she realized the Ab was speaking to her.

“…to deliver. Do you understand?”

He was handing her the two scrolls from his desk. She nodded, taking them from the cold hand of the corpulent Ab. She held the two tightly-rolled parchments, looking at him, searching for some sign if she was expected to respond to words she had not heard.

The Ab just nodded, looking on to Mathiel and Cassiel.

“Safe journeys to you all. Now go and rest, for you set forth for the heart of the Church on the morn of morrow.”

Stiffly, but eagerly, the three absented themselves from the Ab’s chamber. Riding back to their cellae, they just stared at one another, afraid to speak as if it might break the spell that had saved them. Finally, Cassiel broke the silence.

“I… I thought…”

Mathiel nodded, and grinned. “I’d count that a close one. Perhaps closer than those caves under Vant, even.”

Luriel responded before she even thought of her words.

“At least none of us were bitten this time.”

As the Jacob’s Ladder reached their level of the Himmel, pent up anxiety was released in a torrent of three Engel laughing together. For the moment, Luriel was just happy, her fear of Roma (and her dreams) pushed away.

[Jason Anderson]

I only just found this thread, but I've got to say I'm really enjoying reading about the game. I look forward to seeing more!

Jason

[csjames75]

It's fantastic to see someone playing in this incredibly rich setting. This is also my first time to see this thread and I'm slowly savoring the write up. It's an epic tale that really captures my imagination.

Since you mentioned talking to the creator and have maybe even read some of the German materials, do you know how much canon info there is about Britain after the New Splendid Isolation?

I found a single paragraph in the Michaelite Order book about Britain, but other than that it seems to be entirely up to the GM to develop. Just curious.

Please keep posting. I'm very much enjoying it.

[SotDX]

The three still enlivened by their seeming evasion of a terrible fate, they walked together to their cellae, eager to tell Rythe they had worried over nothing. Luriel asked them what exactly she was supposed to do with the scrolls, not needing to explain why. They had all been stunned by the revelation they were to travel to Roma. It was the heart of all of New Europe, the heart of the Engelitic Church. Each Engel traveled there once, to be consecrated as no longer a postulant. Not all had the chance to return to the holiest of all cities.

Cassiel explained the mystery of the scrolls.

“The Ab wanted you to deliver one to the Ramielite legate in Roma. The other is for him… I mean the Pontifex.”

Luriel fingered each, considering that one of the scrolls was for the immortal father of the church. One could not get closer to God on earth than the Pontifex Maximus Petrus Secundus. He had stopped aging hundreds of years ago, the eternal child, when he had led the lost children of man after the floods and plagues in the founding of the Engelitic Chuch. He had been the one to call down the Archangels and Orders of Engel.

Worry flashed through her mind. Would he be able to see her doubts? Would her heresies be plain to him?

They entered the cellae, expecting to find Rythe, but instead they found an empty room. Rythe’s things were gone. Luriel found a monach who explained Rythe had been sent back to the base of the Himmel… back to the Templar garrisons.

Luriel fumed. Gariel had done this on purpose. He had not even given them a chance to say goodbye. Rythe was family, one of them. Returning to the room, she ran into Gariel. This time neither Mathiel or Cassiel were with her. They were back in the cellae.

“Here to gloat about sending Rythe away?”

Gariel glared down at her. He leaned in close, and Luriel took an unconscious step to the wall behind her.

“Listen to me, child-Engel, and listen well. I know about your little trespass in the Cathedral of Thought. We all do. You transgress boundaries, but you will learn to regret your excesses. Believe me…”

Luriel saw his eyes narrow. She was getting angry, but used her power to calm herself. She needed to get past him and back to the room. She wanted to find Rythe.

“Are you listening? It’s only a matter of time before your turn as the ‘perfect Engel’ ends. They will love you in Roma. Those Michaelites will certainly take well to an uppity Ramielite who thinks she can lead a Fellowship.”

Luriel tried to push past him, but he seized her arm in a grip strong enough to bruise. She did not cry out, but looked at him with anger boiling despite her attempts to calm herself.

“Fine, be quiet. But understand that if you do not do what I will ask of you soon, you will regret the day you fell from Heaven. Believe me, there is farther to fall.”

He pushed her back and stalked off, leaving her rubbing her arm and fuming. Still, she had a mission. Rythe. Gathering her brothers, together they make their way to the flight platform, flying out and down to the base of the Himmel.

Cassiel expressed confusion as they flew.

“I just don’t understand. If they were going to send him back to the Templar barracks, why not do that when he first arrived with us. Why let him stay with us in the Engel cellae?”

Mathiel grinned blackly. “Perhaps to get us to talk about the things we shouldn’t. With him there, they had more chance of hearing things they wanted to hear.”

Luriel shook her head, wanting to deny that as a possibility.

Landing at last, the three looked up at the Himmel stretching above them to the clouds. The three had never stood before a Himmel, always flying to and from them, with their entrances so high and distant.

Templars and priests regarded them as they went past on their various tasks. It was an uncommon sight, apparently. For whatever reason, the Engel of Prague rarely explored the city or its sights. Luriel realized there was an entire city outside the Himmel, and all she had ever done was fly over it.

Mathiel looked around, the size of their task becoming apparent. There were many Templar, and many levels in the Himmel’s lower regions to explore.

“How exactly, Luriel, did you want to go about this?”

Sighing, Luriel wondered what would be best. A slow search was an unpleasant prospect, but what choice did they have? She was not going to let them dictate a severance in her connection to Rythe. He was one of them. He was at least to get a proper farewell.

Perhaps fate agreed, if such a thing exists, for at that moment the three Engel heard Rythe’s startled voice as he approached them from the city.

“Luriel? Mathiel? Cassiel!”

He smiled as he approached, his Templar brothers him standing back, respectful of a Fellowship of the Lord’s winged champions.

As they were in such a public place, the Engel did not embrace Rythe, but nodded to him in a proper display of respect and honor.

Rythe returned the same.

“I did not know if I would get to see you again. They ordered me to return to the lower levels at once. I am sorry I was not there for you when you returned.”

Luriel shook her head.

“No, Rythe, it is I who am sorry… I was not there to keep it from happening. We are to leave for Roma in the morning, but I refused to go without seeing you one more time. Forgive me… we all refused.”

Mathiel and Cassiel nodded, and in Rythe’s eyes they could see what this meant to him.

“So, Rythe, in honor of what you sacrificed and gave to our Fellowship, and to remind you always that you are a part of us, I present you this.”

Luriel reached back and plucked a single white feather from her snowy wings, and with warmth presented the Templar the most sacred of gifts. Rythe clutched it in his hands, cradling it, tears coming to his eyes.

“I… I do not know what to say.”

Mathiel patted him on the shoulder, the human gesture more comfortable to him.

“There is nothing you need say. Blessed be, brother.”

Cassiel reached out and touched Rythe’s cheek.

“You are a good and noble man. You are a true warrior of God.”

Rythe, moved beyond words, held fast to his sacred offering, and bowed before the three Engel.

“I pray we meet again, and on that day I am still worthy of your praise and blessings.”

Luriel spoke last, and her words sealed the moment.

“I only hope that on our darkest day when hope is lost we find one another again, for in that moment all hope will be restored by your presence.”

The three flew back to the top of the Himmel, and Rythe rejoined his fellow soldiers, and none knew if ever they would meet again.

----------------------
Check out our new Engel Fansite (all in English)!

http://www.darkexpress.net/engel

[SotDX]

It's fantastic to see someone playing in this incredibly rich setting. This is also my first time to see this thread and I'm slowly savoring the write up. It's an epic tale that really captures my imagination.

Since you mentioned talking to the creator and have maybe even read some of the German materials, do you know how much canon info there is about Britain after the New Splendid Isolation?

I found a single paragraph in the Michaelite Order book about Britain, but other than that it seems to be entirely up to the GM to develop. Just curious.

Please keep posting. I'm very much enjoying it.

Thanks very much for the kind words. I try hard to share our story in an interesting fashion. Everything in here is from our game sessions, which have been going on for over 2&1/2 years.

I can answer some questions about the German materials, and I also have a little tidbit I've been working up to announcing.

First off, in German, there is a novel that deals with the NSI further and a future German source-book is planned. But as for English...

I am very happy to announce a British company is very serious about putting out an English version of Engel, including books never published in English by Sword and Sorcery. They are currently seeking playtesters, and have asked me to inquire among the community regarding interest.

If you or anyone else reading this is interested in playtesting a newly revised English version of Engel (perhaps with needed rules changes?) please email me and let me know at darkexpress@gmail.com (mailto:darkexpress@gmail.com).

The company, who wished to remain anonymous for the moment, stated they "wanted to get the feel of the game just right". :)

Now, as for the NSI in general, I have written up detailed notes on them and would be happy to share. I am currently running an online game with a Fellowship travelling to the NSI on a mission. I've come up with my own take on the Dru and the Thanes.

Take care,

SotDX

[csjames75]

Very very nice.

I've been playing around with The Dru as well and am planning a campaign set in what I'm calling the United Kingdoms. The only reference I had for how the British Isles developed after the NSI is from the Michaelite sourcebook.

I wasn't too enamored of the d20 version of the game, so I've been converting the setting to the Luke Crane's excellent Burning Wheel mechanics.

In my version of the Dru, beyond being the spiritual keepers of the Isles, they also utilize psychic powers to varying degrees. Two specialized groups of The Dru exist. First, the Daughters of Dian Cecht (a celtic god of healing) who can do amazing healing feats by using a substance called The Dark Earth (actually a grey dust that is made up of nano machines and heals miraculously when someone with psychic ability can focus the little machines) Second, the Morrigan are an elite group of psychic spies and assassins who further the needs of the Dru, both in the United Kingdoms and on the continent.

I've got several other groups, I've created for my campaign but they are all purely my own invention.

I'd be very interested in hearing what you've done with the Dru and other groups.

Do you play with the d20 rules from the English version.

Danke sehr.

[SotDX]

After their ascent to the levels of the Himmel reserved for Engel, the three went their separate ways. Cassiel was exhausted, and was returning to their room. Mathiel, filled with nervous energy and anticipation for their new adventure, headed off to the armory to replenish his quiver.

Luriel decided to make a second attempt at the sanctuary of the library. Perhaps this time, she hoped, she would find peace and balance in the place she once felt so at home. She also had an urge to search for some answers about the prophecy the Arioler had given her. Questions still plagued Luriel. Was the prophecy really about her? Could it be true? Perhaps somewhere in the archives she might find a reference to such a foretelling. She had a need to understand it within the context of her belief.

Her mind growing more obsessed with such pursuits, she walked distractedly down the familiar halls. In such a state she was not prepared to encounter Gariel, rapidly becoming her personal tormentor, looking down at her yet again.

She considered running past him, but dismissed the thought. She did not want him to know how much he upset her. Sighing, she waited to see what he wanted. He had intimated before that he would soon ask her to do something for him.

“The others speak of you.”

Luriel was unsure what to think of this. What did he mean? He continued.

“They whisper. I am not the only one who doubts your loyalties and focus. Many among our order suspect you as a corrupted disciple of Thagiel. Surely you realize this?”

She had wondered, but this was unfair. Yes, she had questions, but that was the province of all Ramielites. She was a faithful Engel. How dare Gariel or anyone doubt that!

“Who are these cowards who whisper about me behind my back? Tell me their names!”

Gariel merely smiled back at her.

“Legion, Luriel. Legion. But you can prove your loyalty to our Order.”

Luriel shook her head, frustrated and upset.

“I will prove nothing. I need not. I am loyal. Either ‘others’ can see that or they can not.”

Luriel started to go, but Gariel put one strong hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

“This is not an option. This mission comes from the Ab, and is approved by the Pontifex. You will not decline.”

Now he was telling her what to do? She bit her lip, and had a strong urge to seize his hand and try to break it. Instead, she looked up at him, waiting for him to continue (because she knew he was going to regardless).

“Good. Now listen. There is a certain… member of our Order, who has embarrassed us all and then run away. His name is Jasper, Jasper of Cavath. He has written unspeakable things, and it is requested from the highest levels that this matter be dealt with urgently, before it becomes a greater public scandal for our Order.”

Luriel just looked back uncomprehendingly. Did they want her to hurt this man? What was his crime? Writing unpopular things?

“After your business with the Pontifex in Roma is completed, you will fly to the northern province of Emilia in the lands of Archangel Michael. There, in the Ramielite Monastery in Bologna, you will receive further instructions from Abt Nasfrau.”

Luriel finally managed to find her tongue.

“What am I expected to do to this Jasper?”

Gariel merely shrugged.

“You will receive such instructions from the Abt in Bologna. This is a matter of secrecy. It is not to be spoken of to your Fellowship, nor should you involve them in these internal matters of our Order. Do you understand? It is very critical to your standing in our Order that you complete this task well. It will prove your dedication to us all.”

This situation made her feel incredibly uncomfortable.

“Why did the Ab himself not assign me this mission?”

“Because he asked me to take care of it, and I am, by giving you a chance to prove yourself. Again, I ask, do we have an understanding?”

Luriel nodded, more to get him out of her face than to signify her agreement. As Gariel stalked off, she reflected on being asked to kill a man because he thought differently than was acceptable. Then she thought of the dream she had had in the library before…

A frantic man writing in the dark, muttering about a reason the Himmel had fallen, and something about the Samaelites. What if she had dreamt of the man she was now being sent to kill?

[SotDX]

The whispers echoed around the voluminous chamber. Her cheeks stung, hot with the others notice of her. Scatterings of “Cathedral of Thought”, “Trespasser”, and “scandalous” made their way to her ears.

It seemed Gariel had not lied about how other Ramielites perceived her. The things she had overheard from some of her fellow Engel in the archives had been difficult to stand.

Trying her best to ignore their words, Luriel walked past the book rooms and into one of the chambers with what she called a lit-window. She knew this type of device was once called a computer, and it served as a portal into certain portions of the archives that were otherwise unavailable or long since lost. She had always preferred the feel of paper in her hands, spines creaking and pages turning, but she had used the device before. It had its uses.

Sitting before it, her mind turned from her original planned pursuit of prophecies, and instead drifted to history. She wanted to understand more about the vials she had found in Vant. The Archangel had told her they were a weapon to fight the Lord of the Flies. If that was true, it was her duty to learn more about them. She remembered the words she had translated as “small tech”, but later learned from the blood-crafter Puzo to be more properly called “nanotechnology”.

Typing in that most peculiar word into the system, she waited for some result. The archives accessible by the device held countless items from the world before, long since crumbled or rotted away.

Strangely, only a few results returned to her screen. Expanding the results, she read through them. Selecting the first, Luriel found an article from a pre-flood publication about the possibilities of using nanotechnology in healing. The author seemed fervent that the positive potential to using nanotechnology to heal tissue damage far outweighed the negatives. Luriel had trouble understanding the context of the article, and sadly even the date was not available. It seemed little of the document existed.

Still, she found the author’s argument against the negative possibilities to the application of nanotechnology fascinating. It seemed there were concerns that some microscopic technologies were invasive, and could subvert the normal biology of humanity. It was hinted at in the article that through the proper application of such a technology, it was possible to dramatically alter the biological processes of any organism. The author even suggested that immortality was not an impossibility.

Moving on to the second article, she found an impassioned letter written by a man named Oliver Hoffman. The coincidence of the name unsettled her. It was in a journal called “Science”, and this one had a date: 2088, only five years before the first wave of the plagues. This Doctor Hoffman wrote:

“It is entirely possible that our continued abuses of such technologies could result in until now the fictional concept of ‘Nano Storms’, roving aberrant clouds of uncontrollable nanotech agents altering matter without any set prescriptions. These rogue storms could be capable of manifesting an extinction level epidemic.

I humbly proclaim that it is past time for the United Nations special committee on enhanced biology to aggressively investigate my claims that several super-powers are funding gray experiments into novus-soldier projects. My sources make it clear that Germany, Italy, Japan, and the United States are all deeply invested in such inhuman and illegal projects.

If these experiments in abhorrent mutilations of natural life continue, I fear for the future of the human race.”

Luriel leaned back in her chair, flexing her wings subconsciously. “Novus-solider.” That meant new soldier. What kind of new soldier were the governments of the old-world trying to fashion? What did it have to do with nanotech?

The third article was locked, denying Luriel access. It told her she needed to request permission from an archivist. Frustrated, Luriel re-initiated the search, for surely there were more mentions of this subject. Her hope denied, she found only the same three items listed.

Then the light in the chamber dimmed, as if someone had extinguished half its strength. The screen grew brighter, and Luriel felt a chill as if someone had breathed down her neck. Then she heard a familiar voice whisper to her, but not from outside.

“Pay attention, Luriel. Some things are waiting to be read. Some are buried behind screens, other beneath the waves.”

The screen blurred for a moment and then the third article opened before her, no longer locked away.

It was a fragmentary piece, but it was readable.

“…by the combination of robotics, artificial intelligence, genetic engineering, and nanotechnology it becomes possible to not only stop aging but additionally to create new life. Project Adamus is designed as a prototype in the fusion of several cutting edge technologies in order to create a synthetic life-form…”

Then the screen went blank. Luriel looked around, and found all the screens had gone off. Luriel stood up, uncertain of what she had just read, and what had happened. Maetoth had reached out and touched her from wherever he was, trying to help her. But all he had done was open more mysteries before her.

Leaving the terminals, Luriel walked into the rooms lined with reliable books, biting her lip. Maetoth… who was he? What was he? She decided to return to her original goal for the night, to find some answers about her prophecy and strange benefactor.

Walking through the archives, searching for the proper section on prophecy, she met another Ramielite laden with books. He smiled at her.

“Greetings. And what subject are you seeking?”

She considered telling the truth, but decided to divert the question.

“Well, before the reading-machines failed, I was searching for information on some pre-flood technology.”

The male Ramielite nodded, smiling.

“And you?”

“Oh, I managed to get a copy of Fra Domenico’s new blasphemy. Have you read it?”

Luriel nodded, worried. Why did he call it a blasphemy? She had found it a revelation.

“Well, then you know about his insane claims. I find him an embarrassment for the entire order. Can you imagine thinking that the Dreamseed communicate with one another? Ascribing such beasts intelligence… what came over him? Anyway, that is what I am working on. A rebuttal of sorts, against the claims that the enemy has such sentience.”

He seemed so confident, so proud and self-congratulatory, that Luriel just gave him a non-committal smile and walked on. How could those of her order be so blind? She had seen Hoffman controlling the Dreamseed in Groten, watched Davrus call them from the sky… there was an intelligence inside the beasts. To underestimate the adversary and his legions was madness.

Finding the small section on prophecy, Luriel hunted through various histories, both Engelic and otherwise. There were a few treatises on heretic and unorthodox foretellings, but the pickings were slim. Returning to a table with a few choice volumes, she spread them out before her.

Turning the pages, the world outside faded away. This was still her element, what her Order was intended for. Time blurred.

She read about the prophecies of Fra Juda, he who had found the Pontifex as but a child. The scriptures of the Engelitic Church were founded on his prophecies and pronouncements. There was even some suggestion of a rumored “lost prophecy” by Juda, but it was seriously discounted by experts.

Then she found what she was looking for.

“Maetoth, a mystery figure who once claimed to have been either a Ramielite or Raguelite Monach, made several prophecies. He has been excommunicated by the Pontifex, and by standing order is to be slain on sight as an ally to the Adversary. He is actual name is believed to have been Stanislaw, and to have once been the close advisor to several Abs before his collusion with the powers of darkness.”

A single prophecy was listed as an example of his heretical prose.

“Twins shall be born,
One in light,
The other in shadow.
Light shall be singed in shadow,
And dark will be burned by light.”

Stranger still, the book she was reading was over one hundred years old. How old was Maetoth? Had the Fear-Lord granted him long life?

Turning the page, she found a torn piece from a different book stuffed in the margin. Unfolding it, she found it was about the lost Order of Engel, the Samaelites. They had been lost to the smoke in 2543, the first Engel Order to fall before the Adversary, but sadly not the last.

This was not an entry about their death, but a hand-written note by an unknown Ramielite expressing concern about changes in the Samaelite Order.

“So I think it is clear, for our ‘Brother’s Keepers’ have lost their path. It is said that half of Gabrielite’s perfect warrior soul was sundered from her to craft Samael and his Engel. Thus it was that Gabriel was given her burning blade in place of what was taken.

Forever it has been that the Samaelites mirrored the Gabrielites, twin warriors in garb and guise. But I fear things are not as they were. If you will listen, I will explain. I have witnessed with my own eyes in Corsica a change among them. Several of the Order there have begun focusing their great gifts for battle inwards. They have always excelled at planning and strategy, surpassing the Gabrielites as masters of such aspects of war-craft. Now, though, some have taken to deep meditation, and I have heard from more than one that some few have reached a new plateau.

Let me be direct: I fear that these warrior Engel are trespassing on territory that is not for them. It may only be a matter of time before our most sacred bastion is breached. These brute warriors have bastardized their way into a wisdom that could very well bring foul warfare into our sacred Cathedral of Thought.”

Luriel shut the book, leaving the torn page inside. The Samaelites were developing mental abilities? Was this merely Order factionalism paranoia raging out of control, or could it be possibly true?

Exhaustion had caught up with her, and as much as Luriel wanted to silence the need for answers, she needed to quiet the need for rest. Looking around the library, she said goodbye to its sanctuary. She was leaving for unknown places, and it was possible she
might not return again.

[SotDX]

Luriel found herself in a strange chamber, its walls and domed ceiling stretching away, the space around her vast and empty. It was cold, and it felt desolate. Alone.

She was kneeling, and before she started to rise, Luriel saw what was before her as it became slowly illuminated by diffused sunlight projected through distant windows.

It was an alabaster throne, clean and perfect, and sitting atop it was none other than Hoffman. He was clad in a simple white robe, his face innocent, his eyes murderous. He smiled down at her with his emerald eyes, and beckoned to his side.

Beside the throne was Davrus, the lost tempted from St Terrels, he who had poisoned the grain and called down the destruction. Luriel had watched him twist and change into something inhuman before beheading him. Now he stood restored as one of God’s children, save for the perfect severed head he held in his arms. His wet eyes regarded her with lost innocence.

Luriel could not stand, trapped it seemed, affixed to the floor or paralyzed before this tableau of madness. She tried to shout, to deny what she saw, but her mouth refused to obey.

The severed head spoke, breaking the strained silence of the chamber. The voice was the one she remembered, plaintive, quiet…

“Is it better, I wonder… to serve an evil that is chaotic, or that finds its call in order? Can there be any difference in the sharpness of the blade when it has cut from you the bond of life?”

Davrus turned, raising his head to Hoffman, as in search of an answer. Hoffman merely shrugged, and closed his eyes.

And then Luriel knelt no longer. Standing, she found herself in a village, one that was painfully familiar. Around her were the sights and sounds of Groten, but something was subtly different, some elements not of her memory, but of a different place. Wheeling around, confused and dislocated, she found a young girl in the street.

Luriel recognized her! It was the girl that had been crying in the church in her false memories, the girl she thought was Rebekah. Though this time she was not praying and pleading for the life of her father and brother, but instead an innocent, twirling in the street and playing the games of youth.

Luriel knelt down to her (this time of her own volition) and asked the girl her name. She stopped spinning, and looked at Luriel with a strange expression, as if she was prepared to impart a profound secret.

“Sometimes the Pater is good, and sometimes the Pater is bad.”

It was then she heard the church bells ringing, and the sound filled her with dread. Why should the sounds of Holy Church bedevil her? She turned to look at the church, and realized it was not the one from Groten, that it did not belong in this place. It was from a different village, a different time…

Hoffman walked past her, dressed as a priest, leading the town’s children to their collective fate. He nodded to both Luriel and Rebekah, and said a single word in greeting.

“Pilgrim.”

Luriel felt the urge to stop Hoffman, to save the children, but she knew in the way one only knows in dreams that there was no hope for them, for those were the children already taken into darkness beneath the streets of Groten. Their light was already lost.

Turning back to Rebekah, she found the little girl changed. Her clothes were different, now more the skirt of a young Engel, and her skin was adorned with the barest fragments of an Engel signum. Stranger still, feathered buds extended from her shoulder blades. In her arms she held a cat that had not been there before. She smiled at Luriel, and whispered again.

“Sometimes the cat is Toby, and sometimes the cat is Sylvester.”

Luriel stumbled back, the memory of Groten and the cat hammering in her head. Then the girl was gone, as the world was plunged into darkness. In the darkness, though, there was a single dim light.

“I am sorry I must speak to you in this way…”

Luriel squinted at the bright light beaming from the dark, but she knew the voice. It was Maetoth, sounding somehow both ancient and new.

“Where are you? We saw terrible things come for you on the Dreamsea?”

“I am somewhere more desolate and terrible than you could imagine. It is cold, and I am ever weaker. But even then, I had to interrupt you before, when you were in the library. Some things they do not want you to see, but still, you must see them, know them… and come to accept them. That may be the hardest part.”

Luriel listened, but she wanted to understand.

“Where are you? Can we help you?”

The light dimmed.

“Remember what I told you, and what I showed you. Trust your dreams, even the dark ones. And prepare, for the dreams of future will grow ever darker.”

The light faded away, but Luriel struggled into the dark trying to find its source. She smelt acrid smoke, and a terrible heat that somehow chilled, but then it was gone. Then the smoke returned, thicker, and her nose and eyes burned with it. Something was burning, or had burned.

That something was Thagiel. He stood before her, his wings gone, his body blackened, his eyes red specks of light. He raised his hands before her, and they ended in vicious claws of steel.

“You… you lied to them. They think you destroyed me! How could you?”

Thagiel lashed out at her with his steel blades and took her eyes. Screaming, she fell backwards, stumbling, rolling down an unknown slope. She knew this was all a nightmare, but she felt lost in it.

Then she heard Rebekah scream: “They come! The Grimriders are here!”

Luriel pulled her hands from her unhurt eyes and saw the Grimrider Vargas aiming for her with his long black rifle. The impact of the bullet sent her spinning, and screaming in pain she tumbled into the air and extended her wings.

She was now over Roma, the sacred city, the sky empty of stars and sun, black and featureless. But she was not alone in the air. Pursuing her, as she had dreamed before, were a pack of black winged abominations. Ahead was the Himmel, with its safety and sanctuary from the predators behind her. She is close… so close…

And then a wing is severed as the talons of the beasts make contact, leaving her to plummet to her death over the city at night…

From the fall she now lay on a northern beach, one wing broke, body shattered. Beside her lay Kyriel’s sword, the frozen blade, in pieces. Further away is the husk of a burned Engel, now featureless in its cracked display. Shadows pass over her, and above she sees endless Dreamseed fly, some terrible in both size and description.

And still she knows the worst is out on the water, walking towards her. The tattered one, the Avatar of Storms, walking slowly on the water, coming for her. Luriel struggled, trying to move, but her broken bones and shattered wing refused to comply. Raising her head slightly, she saw him, closer now than ever before in the prior dreams. His long twin ropes of beard swaying, the black swirls on his body seeming to dance as he came. He was close… drawing so close…

And Luriel awoke with a scream.

[SotDX]

The air was fresh and clear. Luriel stretched her arms and admired the view of the valley. It was strange to think they were on Viktor’s lands, as there was nothing within sight but trees and hills. The Fellowship had set off that morning and flown the day traveling south-west, in the direction of still distant Roma. Now they were resting the night in a quiet spot by a river, but each was aware that they were trespassing on lands normally hostile to Engel.

But was Viktor truly hostile to them? Certainly if the Satrap himself rode upon them, he would welcome each to their spot of land. But if some soldier of his authority discovered them, there could be trouble of a violent sort. They would not be recognized in time as the “saviors of Vienna.” Musing on this, Luriel walked slowly along the river. Mathiel and Cassiel sat and talked back where they had landed, but the quiet and peace did Luriel well. The dream the night before had chased her thoughts since leaving Prague. Walking on the far-western extreme of Austria made her feel close to Thagiel and his lost tower.

How she wanted to see him, speak with him…

Then she heard the scream. Somewhere, further down the river, a man bellowed as if he was being devoured. Racing to the sound on instinct, Luriel flew into the air and glided toward the cries for help.

She found the source of the terrified din quickly; over the hill were four desperate souls beset by enormous winged creatures. They were bats, but larger than any God had intended. One had its teeth into a man thrashing as it fed on him, the others swooping down on the three remaining travelers. Luriel pulled forth the Gabrielite sword and without thought leaped into the swarm.

Her blade tore into the back of the one feeding, trying in futility to save the man already half-devoured. She realized as she ripped it asunder that the blade was burning bright, flaming in her hands. The smell of burned dead Dreamseed behind her, she turned to one of the others as it swooped down at her. Sword at ready, she prepared to strike as it opened its mouth and the sky fell upon her.

She stumbled, her head in agony, warm blood running down her cheeks from the ruin of her ears. Turning, ready for the coming attack, she felt the arrow pass by her head and strike the second beast as it came around. Mathiel’s bow did not miss its mark, and the foul abomination fell to the earth dead. Luriel saw Mathiel and Cassiel run past her, but she saw the exhaustion on Cassiel’s face as he followed. The travel of the day had not been easy on him, as he was still a weak flier.

The cold numbness of silence cocooned her, separating Luriel from the world around. She felt a pulse in her head, and the memory of the terrible screech from the bat sizzled. She was deaf.

Looking for Mathiel and Cassiel, she found them arguing. The last Dreamseed was dead behind them, but something was wrong. She tried to read their lips, but couldn’t follow the words. It seemed Cassiel wanted to do something, but Mathiel would not let him. Then Mathiel approached Luriel, and looked into her eyes intently. The words followed.

“Can you hear me?”

Luriel nodded. It still felt strange to use Maetoth’s gift. It was no different than her communion with other Ramielites, and yet it somehow felt forbidden.

“Cassiel thinks he can heal you, but I think he is too tired to exhaust himself further. I want him to wait till morning and he is rested. What do you think?”

Luriel blinked. Her true want was to have her hearing back, and immediately. It was terrifying to be isolated from the world. Still, Cassiel looked barely strong enough to stand, and his healing postetates drained him terribly. Nodding, Luriel told them she agreed.

Cassiel tried to speak to her as well, but the words were distant and difficult to understand. He still had not mastered the gift. She got the meaning all the same, from his apologetic face and worried concern.

Of the survivors, they were too late to save the half-eaten one. The others, though, were alive and thankful. With their help, the dead were buried and the creatures were set to burning.

Luriel left them to this task, as she was having trouble adjusting. Her sense of balance was off as well, and she kept stumbling. Finding an out of the way spot, she sat down facing the river and tried to busy her mind. Using her gifts of perfect recall, she summoned with crystal clarity the documents and items she had found in the library, first in Vienna and then in Prague. She sensed the pieces of a puzzle, myriad and complex, slowly coming together in her mind.

The first idea anything was wrong did not come until the shot was fired over her shoulder. The water splashed in front of her, shocking her from her reverie. She had felt something buzz past her, and she smelled gunpowder. Turning slowly, she found its source.

In the field-armor of the Austrian soldier-class stood a fierce looking man shouting at her with his rifle aimed in her direction. He looked upset, likely as he had been yelling at her for a good minute before firing over her shoulder.

Luriel put her hands out to her sides, hoping the gesture would be clear. She tried to explain her injury, in first Latin, and then a more common dialect, but he did not seem to care or understand. She was an Engel, a warrior of the imperious church, and it was his duty to slay her. Luriel tried one last time to explain, pointing toward where the beasts had been slain and the survivors were gathered.

Something must have decided his opinion, but Luriel never knew what exactly did it. Still, he lowered his rifle, and looked slowly in the direction she pointed. It was then Mathiel appeared behind him with a blade to his throat, telling him to drop his rifle. Luriel saw the fear in the man’s eyes, as he was certain his death was imminent.

Shouting without being able to hear her own words, Luriel ordered Mathiel to step back and leave the man be. He was not their enemy. He was only trying to find the source of the screams from the Dreamseed attack, trying to help the travelers as they had done. Reluctantly, Mathiel sheathed his blade, and the soldier, still wary, stepped back from both. He held his rifle close, but did not raise it.

One of the travelers stepped out of the trees, and while Luriel could not hear their words, it was obvious the traveler was explaining the same story, and from a wet and dirty human the story was somehow more convincing. The soldier nodded, and turned back to Luriel and Mathiel.

Mathiel told her as the soldier left what he had said. One thing was clear, if they had not just helped the travelers and fought off the Dreamseed, the night would have ended with either the death of the soldier or the Engel.

In the morning, the travelers left on their way, and a newly rested Cassiel repaired Luriel’s hearing. As she sat before him with his hands over her ears, the warmth of his healing power seeping into her damaged eardrums, she wondered if her blinding at the hands of Thagiel in her dream had been some forewarning of this injury?

Whole and complete, the three Engel set forth into the pink sky, set to reach Roma without further injury or loss.