Episode Fourteen: Allies and Adversaries

The next day

Castor, in her room decorated white, sits contemplating. A knock comes on the door; it's Ivetta.

Castor gives her a smile as she enters. “You look better.”

Ivetta, arm wrapped tightly in bandages, returns the smile and sits on Castor’s bed. She pulls out her father’s journal.

Castor’s face brightens even more, “You got it back!”

“Yes and that's not all. He knows about our magic, probably more than we think. He offered to come with us when we leave. He said he could teach us magic.”

“That’s-wow.”

“Before I left he asked if I heard the ringing too.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I didn’t, but you did.”

“But that only happened when I was near *him*. Why would he have heard it. And why don’t you?”

“I’m not sure, maybe that means he’s a chati too?”

“This is interesting. And he's willing to leave Abot as well?”

“I know! I think we should tell Tobias at least about the waypoints. I don’t know how he’s going to like being asked to step off the edge of the world.”

“A leap of faith? M-maybe we should talk to Hollinzoller before Father Tobias? Just so we have backup when he tries to shoot us?” Castor worries her cross.

Ivetta puts her good hand on Castor’s shoulder, “I don’t think Tobias is going to hurt us, he promised to protect us.”

“But-but what he said about magic after the battle... We have magic Ivetta! Magic is evil: devil worship in his and the church’s eyes.”

"We don't know for sure."

"We should still speak with Hollinzoller first, perhaps get some answers."

A few days later Ivetta and Castor bump into each other in the halls. They spot Hollinzoller standing in the courtyard and decide it is the opportune moment to speak with him.

“I was wondering when you two were going to show up."

Castor begins, “I'm sorry I was...short with you last we spoke. I-it,” she sighs “I just wanted answers but it wasn't right to get angry at you. I apologize.”

“Is that it?”

“N-no we uh, do have more questions.”

“I thought as much, especially if I am to join your party.”

Castor looks around furtively and in a low voice asks, “are you a chati?”

“Ha, no.”

“But you know about them right?”

“Once upon a time I was classically trained, yes, but anyone who knows anything about magic knows about chati.”

Ivetta asks, “what about a kaldien are you one of those?”

“That is a difficult question to answer. In time I can explain.”

“That ringing, you heard it? What does it mean? Why couldn't Ivetta hear it?” Castor asks.

“Sometimes those who are strong, in tune, with the mystical side of everything can hear certain anomalies. I suspect we both heard the ringing due to one such anomaly. Something that is not supposed to be here. Something nearby, most likely some of those Catholic zealots.”

“Well, we know that it was a man. A terrifying one who wore a mask and had bloody hammers on chains. He tried to kill us twice.”

"Hmm, I don't know of any Catholics who wear masks like that. How do you know he was the anomaly?”

“The ringing got louder the closer he got to me.”

"Anomalies are something I was taught about in my studies but I did not learn about them in depth. I cannot be more helpful on this subject.”

Ivetta adds, “We thought it might be something with another chati getting close.” Castor watches Hollinzoller cautiously.

“Chati? There is a chati here? Who? Someone you know?”

“I-I am,” Castor speaks up shyly.

He looks down at her, “Then you have innate magical abilities that I and your friend can only dream of.”

“It would be nice to have any sort of control over them.”

“I cannot teach you how to be a chati, only to use magic.” He jerks his chin to Ivetta, “You're one of his vanguard then.”

“Yes and soon Father Tobias as well.”

“If you think that is wise. He is a priest, you know they do not look favorably on magic.”

“We haven't told him yet, but we plan to. We use way points to travel and it would be quite a shock to ask him to simply step off the edge of the world.”

“Magic and the church is not something to be taken lightly. Tread carefully.”

“Should we not bring him with us?” Castor asks fearfully.

“Who you choose to bring with you is up to you. Where are you from exactly?”

“We come from Florence.” Castor supplies.

Hollinzoller clarifies, “The year.”

“Uh, what year is it now?”

“In this realm the educated say it is 1646.”

Ivetta takes out her journal and verbally asks it, “what year was it when we left Florence?”

*1532* appears in black ink on the page.

“You talk to your journal.” Hollinzoller says, “Very interesting magic. You have traveled far, unless you're over 100 years old. But this world is different, more... whole than the ones you’ve seen before, you won't find the edge. Well, those who live here don't see the edge. They can continue on, even live past it. It is very difficult to explain.

“Will Tobias see the edge?”

“Everything past the edge is an illusion. As long as they believe it is real they will see no end. i think that's enough questions for now. You might want to talk to your friend, Father Tobias sooner than later. And let me know when we're moving out.” He claps Castor on the shoulder and re-enters the estate leaving the two to ponder.

After some minutes of silence Castor turns to Ivetta saying, “well that was...less helpful than it could have been. but um, I've got a weapon now not just a dagger, a war hammer."

“Wow, Mr. Abot is very generous.”

“N-no, I’m making it myself. I hated how I felt that day so helpless, useless without magic I can't even control. I can't wait around for people to come save me. I need to do it for myself. And for you. I-I can't lose you too Ivetta. I have to be stronger. But I, um, need your help. Will- will you teach me how to write something?”

“Of course Castor. What do you want to write?”

“I want to write it on the handle, so that I always remember: God is with me; God is within me.”

While staying in Abot’s estate, every so often, they get a whiff of burning all the bodies beyond the wall. The citizens have also started digging large mounds to bury the masses. The few revenants left outside perished within a few days of the battle.

Knock on father Tobias’ door. Mr Abot himself, looks a bit shaken. “Sorry to disturb you Father but do you have a moment?”

“Of course, how can I help?”

“You requested the men search the camps first and, well, they came across something… disturbing in one of the main tents. As a holy man I'm sure you can handle what it is that frightens them so and perhaps put them at ease.”

“I can look. I shall gather my companions.”

“That is all I ask Father, thank you. I have your horses readied.”

Father Tobias gathers up Castor and Ivetta telling them of Abot’s request. “I wasn't told its nature. Only that they wish a holy man to see it. It is in the main camp so it might be something having to do with the masked man.”

They head down the elevator and out the gates. The smell outside makes everyone gag except Castor, who walks unfazed. Boys and men digging graves, hardly any guards keeping watch for revenants, fortunately or unfortunately. They head over a bridge they’ve built over the trenches. The lads stand outside the main tent, white-faced and terrified. Other tents are ransacked, falling over. But this main tent hardly touched. It stands the largest of all the tents and is stained black, gold trim lining the edges.

“Do you want to wait out-?” Father Tobias begins but Castor cuts him off.

“Not a chance.” Castor hefts her shiny new war hammer onto her shoulder. Ivetta readies her spear.

“Let's calm down. Should there be anything dangerous, we should take it out at a distance.” he draws his pistol.

“Father, you're not going in there!?” one of the men cries.

“Point to the man more qualified to enter. No magic can stand against faith.” Rosary in his left and pistol in the right, Tobias leads the three in approaching the tent.

A double flap is pushed aside. They see inside hasty footprints and a mark in the dirt of a body having fallen over in retreat. Overpowering smell of incense. Father Tobias recognizes it as a very hard to get a hold of incense. And burning it in this quantity would be an exorbitant fee. The quality is preferred by the upper echelons of Catholics: cardinals and the almighty pope himself.

Torches burn low to the ground to avoid the sloping sides of fabric. On the table is an assortment of tools. Pliers, knives, other sharp implements, and rags, all things bloodied. Set of ransacked dressers black clothing spilling out. A series of carved wood pedestals atop the large dresser. A gleaming metal mask on the far left pedestal. The only other furniture being a bed, a fallen end table, and broken mirror.
One large pole in the center holds up the tent. At the bottom of the pole rest bloodied chains, open manacles at their ends. On the ground circling the pole is a pure black symbol burnt into the ground. The three blackened rings, at first glance, look as though a pit into hell has opened up. Symbols spiral inside written in a language that strangely, Castor and Ivetta cannot read- Latin. Everything about it has the look of demon worship but the text says differently. Father Tobias reads some of the text out loud, for the others’ benefit but also to help himself translate. “God grants us this knowledge…” and other such generalizations are written on the outside ring. The Inner ring has prayer requests: “God who in His grace allowed us to capture the antichrist. Let us now capture his followers…”
“If they are not demon worshipers... I wonder if they believe their rituals have power and can use the same system. That they use it like alchemy or science.”

Ivetta searches the dresser, sifting through endless black robes.  A paper ripped in half flutters to the ground out of one of the pockets which reads:

"My de-

come at on-

we have t-

plans are fi-

non-believers will be pu-

Castor takes down the silver mask from the pedestal. She holds it for a second before it burns her, instantaneously hot. She gasps, dropping it and stumbling back. A vision fills her mind and ringing fills her ears.

The masked man from behind, tight, corded arm muscles holding his trademark chain but at the end, a makeshift mace swings in his hand. He goes into a cell. pain-filled cries and groans emanate, neither male nor female. Castor can see the back of the person in the cell, a mass of fresh bloodied slashes, pus, festering lesions, bruises, and pain. She feels it too. As the masked man leaves the cell, mace dripping fresh red, he laughs.

“Castor are you alright?” Ivetta’s worried voice wafts into Castor’s awareness.

“I-I’m alright, it-it was j-just hot.”

Ivetta moves to pick it up but Father Tobias moves to stop her. “Don’t touch it. We're dealing with things that could be hexed.” He picks it up with the point of his sword and puts it in one of the robes, swaddling it before taking it himself.

Castor gives Ivetta a look. She returns it with a concerned look and a head nod toward the door. Castor shakes her head and turns to search the fallen end table. Ivetta continues her search for the other half of paper. Father Tobias, finding three familiar round, bloodied bullets on the table. Takes them with, planning to use them on him again, should they meet.

Castor rights the small end table and finds a bible and rusty little hand rake in the drawer. A tiny bit of dried blood but also dirt on the tines. The Bible, unmarked with name or notes gets pocketed.

Tobias finishes looking through the implements on the table and says, “Given this man's unnatural resistance, this place may have been a place for him to operate on himself.”

“Those chains say otherwise, Father.” Castor points out.

“He has worn chains before. I'd like a plow the ground here to see if he’s hidden anything underneath. At least destroying this symbol will put the men at ease.” Finished with their search they all leave.

Father Tobias addresses the men, “I’ve taken a look and it seems these were simply Catholics lead astray. Only God can grant victory and it seems they had strayed.”

“Have you cleansed the spirits Father, is it gone?”

“I don't believe their magic had any power but to put everyone at ease we will plow the ground and salt the earth beneath. Regardless, there is nothing much of value here, it is safe to continue your searches in the other tents.”

The plow arrives and breaks up the earth over and around where the tent stood. The plow digs in only about two feet. Under where the pole stood the blade hits something. Father Tobias picks it up and dusts it off. It’s a one inch thick book. The cover has a strange, almost squishy texture and the letters *GS* emblazoned on the front. Something falls onto the ground. A stone arrowhead. Castor picks it up.

Ivetta’s face lights up as if she thought of something. And can barely contain herself.

Father Tobias sees this apparent glee, “Since it looks like you thought of something but this is hardly the place, I suggest we head back so that we might examine this more closely.”

Earth plowed and salted the three make their way back to the estate. On the way, taking the lengthy journey of the elevator to speak privately.

Ivetta asks, “Do you remember Gabriel Smith, Castor?”

“How could I f-forget that wonderful man, he only tried to kill us.”

“GS. Those are his initials. This could be his journal. He’s the masked man!”

In response to Father Tobias’ puzzled look Ivetta says, “He's the one that got away, one could say. I think it's time to explain a few things. I’m sorry we’ve been so secretive so far. Let’s start from the beginning, we’re not from Milan. We’re from Florence.”

“I suppose my spot on guess was not so spot on. But to be fair, by the end of that conversation, I was having my doubts.”

“Sorry.” she sighs. “Alright, well, we're not from here... We're from a different time.” She watches his face carefully.

Tobias pushes up his glasses so they fully cover his eyes. “That's quite a story. Regardless of whether or not it's true, I know this book and the man who had it in his possession are real. However, I do not see how this relates.”

“Getting to that. We all had a shared vision and where God told us to find an object. A golden cross embedded with rubies. Long story short, we obtained it and had to flee the city.”

“You stole from the church.”

Castor bursts in, “I know this sounds really bad but we didn't want to! God told us to!” she laments,  “Oh, we’re going to Hell.”

Ivetta’s hand reaches toward her dagger, wary of his tone.

Father Tobias looks down at Ivetta, his tone edged with a challenge, “Ivetta, if I can kill six black riders in the span of several minutes, what do you think that knife is going to do? Please continue your story. I'd very much like to hear the end.”

Ivetta eases away but still stands tensed.

Castor continues, “We… travel to different places using the objects God tells us to find. And one of these places this man, Gabriel Smith, aka the quartermaster, was poisoning an entire town because he was a spy for the Spanish.”

“Do you know of a place called Jamestown?” Ivetta asks Tobias.

“I might have heard tell of it but why would a new world quartermaster be in power in a clerical organization in Europe?”

Castor continues, “Well, we don’t really know anything about him, or his life before he lived there. He could be anybody. But um yes, we exposed him to the town and he tried to kill us. And he got one of these objects that help us travel and he escaped.”

“Then the ability to travel with these objects is not limited to you two. What happens to the objects after you travel?”

“Nothing, we still have...most of them.”

Ivetta says, “We've had to be extremely cautious. It's not easy to hear and not going to make a lot of sense, you're probably pretty confused. We don't even know the entirety of our situation. but if you could take a leap of faith and believe us? Alright, here goes nothing: Magic is real but it is not inherently evil.”

She gauges his reaction. He says nothing. “I know that where you come from and what you've been taught is that magic is evil. And I know you wont believe me that people use magic for good or that it exists at all. But they do and it does.”

The elevator grinds to a halt as they reach the top of the wall.

Castor and Ivetta wait with bated breath.

Adjusting his glasses once more Father Tobias speaks, “It is clear you two are refugees from some wealthy Italian family with heat on your back and cannot divulge much to me, that I understand. But I think I have heard enough stories for tonight.” he then turns on his heel and heads toward the estate.

Ivetta and Castor are left alone again and stand together in stunned silence.

“He didn’t believe us.” Castor says.

“I don’t think so, no. I think we’ll have to show him to make him believe it.” Ivetta replies.

“It was a good start though.”

Castor proceeds to fill in Ivetta on her vision in the tent. “...I couldn’t tell who it was in the cell but I think it might have been Marco.” She sighs, continuing, “If I was stronger Marco…he'd still be with us. I should have listened to my gut and gone back for him. He would have done the same for us. Maybe now there’s a chance to go back to Gremmin and get him back.”

“Castor, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But we’ve taken out their army. Maybe there’s a chance…”

“I hate to say it but we can't assume he's alive,” Ivetta insists, “or that he hasn't been shipped off to be questioned by higher authorities. The odds of him being there and alive are low. I don’t think it’d be a good idea to find out. And like Tobias said, it is Marco’s job to keep you safe.”

Castor looks down, defeated, “but what's the point of being a prophet if I can’t help anyone?”

Ivetta is quiet then her face grows concerned as she thinks of something, “Castor, it's a trap. The masked man knew we’d find that mask and manipulated it to show you that vision. He wants us to go looking for Marco. He probably knew you'd pick up that mask and influence you into going back there to save him.”

Castor says nothing in return and is quiet and contemplating as they walk back to the estate.

TBC

Episode Fifteen: Darkest Knight