CHAPTER 25

“The Oldest House”

     

August 16th, 2040: Chlothar City Capital, The Plusieurs Kingdom

Shifting in her seat as the royal coach and adorned with a bright red silk dress with black stitching. Soon-to-be crowned Christina stared out the carriage window at the crowds of people, all from different walks of life, from the capital to neighboring towns, all to see this…unique coronation. Sliding the curtain back over the window, Christina tried her best to sink into her seat.       

“I still can not believe that our holiness would allow this to happen.” Looking back down at her dress, her mood swung like a pendulum from terrified to shock and back again. “Our god was supposed to protect us against such an event…and yet this was allowed to happen.” She whispered. 

“No one could have foreseen this outcome, Christina. With the Americans allowing this coronation to proceed as tradition demands. I am more concerned about what their god has planned for us.” In an ill-fitting ink-black dress. Luna leaned towards Christina, placing a hand on her knee. “With that said, I am growing more aware of the rumor that they do not have a god at all.” There was a short silence before Christia broke out and laughed at the mere thought of such a far-fetched notion. 

“And on what solid ground does this absurd idea stand upon?”

“Well, mainly by talks from American footmen I have had the…least of pleasure hearing their rambling on a wide range of topics. From comparing us to “A place worse off than the third-world”, to them comparing religions from their homeworld, a place called Earth.”   

“Fascinating, anything else I should know?” leaning closer to Luna, her young mind ran wild with ideas again.

“Only that most of them do not wish to be here and would rather be back home in various towns and cities. Seems to me that most did not want to be part of this war. Or rather see it as an inconvenience to their normal lives.” 

“Indeed, I heard from Thyra that some of these Americans were talking about how “We shouldn’t be fighting an enemy we barely understand”. It seems to me that they truly did not want to partake in this after all.” Thinking back to the message that President Dresden sent to the previous queen. Her mind shuttered again at the wording on it. With words saying “Minor conflict” and overall, considered this to be no more than an inconvenience, rather than a war.        

 

With the small talk slowing down. Christina and Luna sat in silence for the remainder of the journey to the cathedral where the coronation would be held. Upon reaching the massive plaza that was built in front of it. Christina immediately noticed the two black horseless carriages the Americans used to arrive at. With the doors to the cathedral swinging open, any conversations that were happening inside were quickly silenced. With Luna and royal guards in tow, Christina slowly marched down the aisle. With the noble houses from across the kingdom having finally arrived, they all stood up--and with their right hand over their chest, gave a deep bow as she passed. Upon reaching the front pew, she was surprised to see five Americans who also gave a bow. But just as surprisingly, along the wall, a massive flatscreen television was set up and through it, President Dresden, and Vice President Harold inside The Oval Office; and though while they did stand, neither, gave a bow. Steeling her nerves, Christina faced forwards and toward the large dark wood altar. Adorn with a red sheet, golden candles, some silver chalices and a book. Christina stopped about a meter away from it, with Luna and the royal guard not moving past the first pew. 

“O Domine, et venit hodie nobis…” A deep, powerful voice echoed through the cathedral. At the farthest point in the rear of the cathedral and appearing from a staircase in the floor. An old man dressed in old-style bishop clothing swung a lamp with light gray smoke leaking from four small openings in the top.

“O Domine, et venit hodie nobis.” Everyone--apart from the Americans, repeated the words that the bishop said, with none of them removing their right hand from their chest.

“O Domine, et ostende nobis egredi. Est domina tua fit ad regnandi?” The man intoned, and once again, everyone repeated it. And after a short period of time. Light from the massive stained glass windows in the aspe flowed in and shined upon the altar, and upon Christina.

“Et sic erit, o domine.” Once reaching the altar, the bishop placed the lightly smoking lamp onto the table, then looked at the Americans before raising his arms. “Non enim nobis permittere loqui pro communi American?” Hearing their name, the five Americans immediately straightened themselves even more, though did understand what was said. “Was it a question?”. If it was, they didn't need to answer as a stray ray of light from the dome moved to shine upon the Americans, and even the television. 

“Then it is settled. We shall continue the coronation with common tongue.” Lowering his arms, the bishop opened the book and flipped a few pages. “In light of events that are and have been, outside of our control. Stéphane de Châtillon is no longer fit to rule, and under the guidance of The United States of America, and under the guidance of our lord and goddess. Christina de Châtillon shall take the crown. Dare any challengers to thy claims wish to speak?” Almost immediately, two young men tried to step forwards, only to be ripped back by a much older noble.

“If no one from this realm wishes to speak, then I shall ask our lord.” Taking a pure glass chalice filled with a clear liquid. He took another with a blue liquid into his hand, and tapped his right index figure on the surface. “Shall Christina de Châtillon, using all thy strength, protect us from any and all harm from those who wish ill upon us?” Flicking his index figure into the clear liquid, the blue liquid quickly turned into a bright green, before turning clear. “Shall Christina de Châtillon, protect thy realm from wrongdoing, and from the evils that plague this world?” flicking his figure again, the blue liquid turned a blood red, and thickened. 

“Blood red? That means a great catastrophe, no?” One young noble mumbled.

“And so we very much we'll see the final act of the eastern gods.” Another, older noble rubbed his white beard. With the coronation quickly taking a sharp left, the bishop looked towards the slowly dissipating red liquid, then at the Americans and back at the altar.

“Shall the United States of America, be our protector in times of great need, and deliver us from those who wish us harm?” This time, the blue liquid didn’t change until a few seconds of swirling around before shifting into a light blue, then fizzled into an inky black. With that, the bishop turned back to the Americans. With more questions than answers being created, the bishop continued. “Shall thy god of The United States of America be kind to us outsiders?” With a slight hint of hesitation, the bishop once again flicked the liquid into the chalice. Again, it swirls around until the chalice itself suddenly cracked, and the blue liquid dissipated without changing color.    

“May I propose something to you, Oh prestigious President Dresden of The United States?”

“Please, just President Dresden is fine. What do you have in mind?” Rather curious about what was happening in front of him, President Dresden cocked his head. 

“I believe a direct connection to our lord is needed for Christina de Châtillon to fully understand her role in our realm, and to have our questions be answered with words, rather than colors. However, a sizable tribute must be made. Do we have permission to use our gold to make such an offering?” 

“By all means, do what you need to do. We are just here to spectate, not change tradition.”

“Very well then. Sisters, do be so kind as to gather our tithe offerings”

 

Once a few stakes of gold coins were placed on and around the altar. The bishop took the blue liquid-filled chalice and walked around to Christina.

“I ask that you kneel. For when entering thy astral plane, we must not enter standing. For thou would be directly challenging the authority of thy lord.” Without uttering a single word, Christina kneeled in front of the bishop, who dipped his right index figure into the blue liquid and on her forehead, painted a small star which once complete, began to shine. 

“Our lord has accepted our offering!” The bishop boomed, with a bright cyan rune circle appearing on the floor around Christina. Closing her eyes, the low hum of magic flowing around her was soon replaced with…nothing, not even the faint ring when inside a quiet room. Not daring to open her eyes yet she waited, only for a light gust of wind to brush her face. Slowly opening her eyes, Christina blinked a few times as her mind began to process what had just happened. 

 

Surrounding her was no longer the cathedral, but rather a botanical garden. Standing up from the stone slab pathway she rested on, Christina once again had sound return to her with songbirds flying overhead. Taking in the stunning views of carefully cared-for plants, Christina walked to the edge of the path to examine a bed of vibrant blue-gem roses. A notoriously expensive flower to have, even for nobility.

“If you wish, you may have one.” A light, female voice radiated from behind Christina. Spinning around, a woman dressed in a snow-white tunic smiled. Standing on one of the few open grass patches between plots, she gestured to the roses. “There are so many in that location that I will need to uproot some of them soon.” Walking closer to Christina, the strange woman then cocked her head to a nearby massive shimmering glass oak tree. Its sprawling and haphazard growth pattern gave it an eerie atmosphere as the branches grew in any direction they wished, with the glass-like leaves making it nearly impossible to look at on the brightest days of the year. “Though, I suspect you did not come here to have one of my many creations?” The woman once again returned her gaze to Christina. 

“N-no, your holiness. I…I was hoping that you could be ever so generous as to answer my question about a new empire. The United--”

“The Constitutional Republic of The United States of America…” The woman quickly corrected. Though this only left Christina to stumble over her words even more than before.

“A-a republic? Them?” 

“Indeed. For on Earth, they proved themselves to be resourceful, resilient, and always willing to challenge the chains of fate… if only…” With her face slowly morphing into sadness, the woman looked back at the glass oak tree.

“Then, why are they here? To what ends of which god do they serve?” Christina asked, but the long silence from her god did little to answer, only choosing to gaze upon her garden.

“Faith is what binds entire realms together, for it is what everything around you is created from… or so we thought.” Once again turning to face Christina, her saddened expression didn’t leave. “I can not tell you everything, as I am bound by the chains of fate myself--as are all gods. However, heed this warning, Queen. The United States of America is not bound by chains, and they should not--” Stopping herself short when a high pitch hum filled the air, the woman finally cracked a smile. “Push a reasonable man far enough, and you will see just how unreasonable one can truly be.” 

 

Fairly dumbfounded by the cryptic language, Christina stared off into space for a moment before realizing that the woman had started walking along the stone pathway.

“If they were summoned here by a god. Then why was The United States summoning so vast and not concentrated?” Christina questioned, though only got a small smile from the god. But that was enough for her to reach into the dark to pull out a conclusion. “They were never meant to be brought here, were they?” 

“That is something you must learn on your own… All that I can truly say is, someone made a mistake, and paid dearly for it. As will your realm and the astral plane should certain paths be forged.” 

 

With that, a golden portal spontaneously appeared behind the woman, and a golden chain lashed out from it, quickly wrapping itself around the god's neck.

“Well, it appears I have spoken too much. Take what you have learned here, young one, and prepare yourself. For current events are far from over.” Raising her right hand the god created a white rune circle around Christina's feet. Flicking her wrist upwards, the rune circle quickly engulfed her body and sent her back to the mortal realm. Not long after, the golden chain around the god's neck released and was dragged back through its gold portal before collapsing in on itself. 

“You really like testing just how much you can say before fate intervenes, don’t you Aro?” A male voice from a nearby voice chuckled. Looking at the origin, Aro spotted a silver squirrel come bouncing out and slowly morphing into a human wearing a weathered silver cuirass.

“Still wearing that dated piece of armor Bellam?” Aro smiled.

“I will have you know I defeated a titan wearing this.” Returning the smile, the two started a slow walk toward the glass oak. “Aurtas got into a fight again with Jiom-Ki.” With a sigh, Bellam stopped and stared at the great tree. “If Hrefi didn’t always come to his aid, I would gladly put that smug bastard in his place.” 

“If he’s under your skin that deep, then you have already lost to him. And I do believe that we have greater issues to be tending to, rather than the few who are trying to move around on the authority pyramid.” Getting only a grunt of acknowledgement from Bellam, Aro walked over to a nearby bed of Red-Spotted Fox gloves, brushing her hand against the flowers her fingers went slightly numb as the pollen attempted to paralyze their prey. None the wiser as to who or what that attempted prey was.

“You seem rather uncaring for the activities in the Astral Realm, Aro. Has godhood finally bored the Goddess of Life?” 

“Oh hush Bellam. I don’t take part in the ongoing of the senate because I have grown tired of all the bickering from the old fools there. I do approve of the recent hearings where the young ones and even some of their own children are finding their voice. But it is simply not for me.” 

“Could it be because of the failed summon, by chance?” With a heavy sigh, Aro turned to face the glass oak once again.

“Ever since that terrible day, the land has wept with pain, the waters grow ever restless and the skies openly mocked by The United States of America. There was a reason why the first realm was left alone. It was the first--a prototype, a test for everything we have now. No god alive or passed has presided over that realm in eons. Save for Gamult who indulges in the entertainment of human behavior in the first realm.

“Well blame Gamult for that, he was the one who refused to have it destroyed. He even fought Potias over it!” Waving his arms around, Bellam started to march in circles in thought. “You know as well as I, if anything happens to The United States of America--and by extension Earth, to cause either to collapse. Gamult is not going to rest until whoever is responsible for their demise is dead… this goes for Luvenum too if she recovers.” 

“You think I’m not aware of my own daughter's precarious situation?” With emotion filling her voice, Aro turned and faced Bellam with glassy eyes. “She--as much as I and all the other young gods, don’t want to see any more innocent blood spilt over this…this game! Not for me, not you, not Aurtas, Hrefi, Jiom-Ki, Seon Dong, Yenmek, Úldur and certainly not Potias!” Getting within inches of Bellam’s face, Aro could no longer hold back her tears. “I’ve had to bear witness to mass exterminations and genocide from Kriwelf and Aurtas as they have somehow convinced themselves that the beastfolk are their biggest threat. All the while Kvdur is having his demonic hellspawn running a muck across the entire world! Tell me, Bellam, what am I supposed to do!” 

 

With no emotion on his face, Bellam took a step back before placing both of his hands on Aro’s shoulders.

“What we need to do is make sure Gamult doesn't destroy Luxrum once news of the failed summon reaches him. After that, we must do everything within our fates to find a way to send The United States of America back to Earth, before either collapse any further than they already have.

“How is…Earth?” Responding to her question with a slow blink, Bellam took one hand off of Aro and flipped his palm upwards and manifested a white fire. Within, dozens of voices stepped on each other to be heard.

“Mass rioting and looting is widespread across Europe with ‘Martial Law’ being declared in most of the western world as the ‘stock’ market continues to collapse. Dozens of rebellions in the African proxy states have flared up as the majority of military forces have been recalled to their respective home.” One female voice said

“This is an illegal gathering! Disperse now or we will use lethal force! I said step back!” Another, more demanding male voice shouted.

“Command be advised, we are taking heavy fire here! Where the hell is the air support!” A third voice boomed with echoes of screams filling the background. 

 

With the mess of voices continuing with their cries, the flame continued to grow in brightness and size, only for Bellam to take his other hand and flatten it. With a heavy sigh, he looked back at Aro.

“We cannot allow this to go on any further than it already has. The 49th President of the United States of America has done all that he can to protect his nation, but he is nearing his limit. All that we can do is act on their behalf in the senate and argue for their protection along with Gamult. Though he might be strong, he will be fighting against the rest of the old generation. We have no other option.”