The Altar of the Creator—a place where the Central Church's elite met to pray and discuss life's great mysteries. It was a place of prayer and reflection. The highest form of truth humans could imagine.
However, the place was not a particular room or a building. It was a simple garden in the heart of the Holy City. Its setting was simple: a quiet open place next to a river, next to a palm tree, and on its edge a tree for shade.
In its centre was a large square stone with one cut side. The stone stood as a pillar of light with the sun shining upon it. It was not an artificial structure, for it was part of the land—a natural occurrence that had been part of the original layout of the land.
As Dorian's feet touched the dirt, he breathed deeply in the air, filling his lungs and body with the power of the land. Dorian stepped onto the stone. Before he could even sit down, he heard footsteps coming from behind.
“So you have returned. What did you find?”
He turned to see a smiling man wearing a long white robe with the Central Church's gold trim. The man's face held a youthful innocence as he walked toward Dorian. He looked to be in his early thirties and had platinum-blonde hair and fair skin.
“The Hellgate is still in place.”
The man sat beside Dorian on the stone, and rested his right hand on the pillar. “And of the barrier?”
“The barrier still stands.”
“Excellent.” The man looked relieved. “I suppose that means our saintess is still alive.”
Dorian sighed. He did not understand what the saintess thought when she ran away from the church. It had been a week since she had left. Surely, she understood the importance of her position and how dangerous it would be to let the world know she had escaped.
“She should have stayed. It would have been best for her to stand by her side and not run away.”
“Do not get upset.” The man's voice had a calm edge to it. “She has the wisdom to know she needs to do what is best for her.”
He doubted the wisdom of the saintess. In fact, it felt more and more likely that she had lost her mind. Dorian did not like to think that about the saintess. She was an exceptional woman, powerful and intelligent. Why would she do something like this?
“When did you last see her?”
The man shook his head. “No one has seen her since the night she left.”
Dorian knew the first thing the saintess did after she left was to remove her golden mask. The mask was a physical embodiment of her soul-bound dignity, and Dorian could feel his respect for her diminish as soon as she cast it away.
That no one except the archbishop truly knew what she looked like under that mask made it harder to track her down. Some said she was as beautiful as the Dawn Goddess, while others said she looked as ugly as the foul creatures who haunted the netherworld.
Either way, she could have disguised herself as anyone. It wasn't like anyone was going to recognise her. She could have been a thousand different women. There were thousands of ways she could have left her place of worship. Perhaps she even left disguised as another of the faithful.
“Then you have no way of knowing if she is safe.”
“She will know to come back once she thinks it is safe.”
The more Dorian thought about it, the more sense this made. “Do you truly think she will?”
“I am doing all I can to help her, Dorian. However, she does not always follow my advice. No matter.” He looked at Dorian with a smile. “She will know to come back when the time is right. She always does.”
A look of relief passed on Dorian's face. “Then there is hope.”
“Hope?” The man raised an eyebrow.
Dorian nodded. “Yes. Hope the barrier will hold, the Hellgate's seal will not break, and everything will be all right.”
The Central Church was good at hiding things. For an organisation that could hide the fact that the White God was dead since the beginning of written history, hiding the saintess' disappearance should be easy. At least that was what Dorian thought. He hoped he was right.
“I pray you are right, my friend.” The man stood up and threw his arms around Dorian's shoulders. “Thank you for all your help.”
He smiled and patted the man on the back. “There is no need, Lucio. It is my pleasure.”
“It is.” The man, Lucio, nodded. “And you are always welcome.”
“Thank you, Lucio.”
Dorian looked up at the sun. He was ready to rest for a little while and enjoy the cool air. The day was not over yet, and Dorian needed a break. He thought he knew what he was going to do, and, for the first time since Dorian awoke, he felt at peace.
Lucio turned to leave, but stopped after taking a few steps away from the stone. “Dorian.”
“Yes, Lucio?”
“I want to show you something.”
Dorian followed Lucio to a tree with a thick trunk and an extensive root system, all wrapped up in a thick blanket of brown moss. “What is it?”
Lucio pressed his hand against the tree, and the roots stirred, revealing a hollow space behind them. He and Dorian stepped inside. The air here was warm and moist. The roots pressed against the side of the wall as they continued down into the earth.
From where they were standing, they could see only darkness ahead of them, so they lit mage light and led the way through the labyrinth of roots that snaked up the walls. At some point, they entered a vast room that seemed to have no ceiling and no walls.
“Is there something here?”
“That's for you to find out.” Lucio gave Dorian a nudge. “I can't tell you just yet. You'll have to see for yourself.”
Dorian stared back at him, a puzzled look on his face. “What? Why?”
“Because.” Lucio waved his hands, and Dorian's question fell flat.
Dorian had a few moments to take in his surroundings. The room appeared to be some sort of hall with multiple tunnels stretching off to all sides. He noticed a woman wearing the pure-white robes of the Church in front of him, her hands outstretched.
A golden chest with a carving of the sun in each corner rested before her, and the woman was kneeling in front of it. A pair of golden wings spread out from the chest and a gigantic dragon's head protruded from one side.
He took a few steps forward and stopped in front of her. The woman remained still. She kept focusing on the chest as if it held something of utmost importance within its boundary. This behaviour puzzled Dorian at first, but then he noticed it was a statue. The statue had no face, just smooth stone.
“What do I do?”
Lucio was next to him, smiling. “Just watch. Awaken to your true name, Rosier.”
The woman's body moved and shifted, and Dorian watched as the solid stone cracked and broke up, revealing the creature beneath. She stepped out of the large pile of stone and dust and moved toward the two.
Dorian's heart pounded. The figure before him transfixed him. He'd seen nothing like her before. She was a beautiful, winged humanoid with delicate features and alabaster skin. Her hair cascaded down to the floor behind her in a torrent of silk and light.
“I am Rosier. Your path is long and treacherous. Yet I will be there for you, to help you as much as I can.” The sound of her voice startled Dorian. She had the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard.
“You must have many questions, Dorian.” Lucio approached the creature and joined her in the centre of the room. “I will leave you with her. She can explain everything.”
He walked toward her, as if drawn in by an unseen force. When he was close enough, he reached out and touched her arm. Her skin felt cold and soft. When a jolt of energy shot through him, he gasped, pulling back his hand.
The feeling was utterly unlike any he had felt before. It was like holding a fire.
“Be not afraid.”
Dirty.
Thanks for the chapter!
Dirty