A hooded figure walked through dimly lit halls, silent footsteps and ghostly presence giving no indication of his existence. Not a single soul gave any indication that they saw him - neither the maids cleaning in the halls, nor the errand boys scurrying about. Perhaps this could be explained by the darkness of the manor, but the figure passed within inches of several people during his journey while remaining unnoticed.

 

This continued until the man ended up in front of plain wooden door at the heart of the enormous mansion.

 

Without knocking, he confidently barged into a brightly lit study. Behind the ornate desk sat an enormous old man, wrinkles and liver spots visible on his face belying the muscular physic present beneath his fashionable suit. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up from the pile of documents he had been working on, turning his steely green eyes upon the hooded figure.

 

“Duke Raktos, you really shouldn’t be up this late. You must mind your age, after all.” The hooded figure said, voice not carrying a hint of respect for the old man’s high station.

 

“When are you going to show me that face underneath the hood?” Duke Raktos said with a calm voice as he put down the pen.

 

“Now, now, old friend. That wouldn’t be any fun.” The man said with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Rather than myself, I’m here to discuss something much more important.”

 

“And what would that be? Things are going well. Could it be you need additional funding for your research?” Duke Raktos said while resting his chin on his interlaced hands.

 

The man shook his head, “No, Your Grace. You are probably unaware of the events in the capital yet, but, less than twenty-four hours ago, something major occurred… A new Saintess burst onto the scene with a real bang, to put it lightly. ”

 

“Oho… To have you, of all people, concerned, this new Saintess must really be something.”

 

“Indeed she is… She somehow managed to bless the entire capital during her attribute examination, demonstrating an inhuman level of magic.  She's even the daughter of Duke Daegal, so she has been blessed with political clout on top of her unbelievable magical power. Neither of us wants to see the Church or Duke Daegal grow in power.”

 

This alarming news caused the Duke to lose his composure, head banging into the table below as it slipped from his hands.

 

“What did you say?!” he said after pulling himself up, banging his fist down in rage.

 

“Now you see why I’m concerned? Things had been going so well, then this destabilizing factor just to comes into play.” The hooded man retorted, voice losing some of its levity.

 

“Indeed. We can’t afford for the Daegal House to increase its influence. It could interfere with our plans for the war. Any strengthening of relations between the Daegals and the Church is something to be wary of.” Duke Raktos said, while struggling to regain his composure.

 

“I believe you’re focused on the wrong thing here, Your Grace.” The hooded man continued. “Rather than some political ties, I believe we should be more concerned about the Saintess herself. You weren’t at the capital at the time, so it’s understandable that you might struggle to wrap your mind around the enormity of that power.”

 

The Duke, a bit irritated by the man’s tone and words, retorted, “What is there to be so concerned about? Just a child with some strong magic.”

 

“Your Grace, you really don’t understand the scale of her power. It wasn’t just some minor blessing for a few citizens or a petty light show; it was a flood of magic that touched almost every citizen in the capital, healing all it touched. Do you understand? Her magic power is equivalent to tens of thousands of mid-level priests, at the very least - all that power, contained in the small body of a three year old child. She’s at the level of a strategic weapon.” The hooded man said in a cold voice.

 

“Hmmm,” the Duke said while scratching his chin, “We must do something about this. Insert someone in her vicinity. At the very least, we have to gather additional information. Ideally, we could befriend her and use her ourselves.”

 

Bowing deeply in response, the hooded man said, “That sounds wise, Your Grace. In fact, I have just the person in mind. She is one of our finest and, just recently, infiltrated the Church.”

 

“Good. See that it goes well.” The Duke said while nodding, satisfied with the plan for now. Just as the hooded figure turned to leave, the Duke asked one final question of him, “What was the name of this new Saintess?”

 

Turning his head without shifting his body, the hooded man said, “Her name is Maven, Your Grace. Her name is Maven.”