Oath of Steel

The sound of the twin bells chiming the hour of the dead was quick to travel down the Trevisian bell tower. Its heavy chimes dwarfed the low chanting of the moderate crowd of officials forced into attendance.

Daunting Cathedral had never been famous for celebrating joyous events, not even after the erection of its first walls. Built at the time with the sole intention of holding the public funeral of the first heir of the first Rowelian ruler over six hundred years ago; after dying honorably in the middle of the battlefield.

No wedding, nor a baptism, not even a sanctification had ever taken place inside those well-kept walls. The only times Daunting Cathedral opened to the public was when the nation prepared itself to mourn the passing of those considered of uttermost importance to the welfare of the country.

One of those days had finally dawned on them after so long.

The shining white marble slates darkened as the shadows of the attendees mixed the unbending funeral atmosphere. The same daunting atmosphere that’d lead to the naming of it in the first place.

The bishop wouldn’t have attended the funeral service as per usual. He’d been alerted the morning before; with a messenger bearing the news that his esteemed presence wouldn’t have been needed.

Nobody had to know, nobody had to see, nobody had to say a word that could make the citizens become alert of what was happening inside Daunting Cathedral in that present moment.

The house of God, made up of five naves and divided by four colonnades had seen better days. Despite the never-ending donations coming from high society throughout the course of the decades.

The claristorium was the only part of the cathedral that won against the passage of time, against dust and against war. Once again thanks to the lovely donations given to bury deep down secrets and lies under the centenary-year-old foundations that kept Daunting Cathedral standing on her feet.

Only the half-first spiralled-carved fir benches sitting in the central nave had been occupied, seven dozen people kneeling in front of a black wooden casket.

There hadn’t been one soul that’d voluntarily decided to attend, every single one of them paid a conspicuous amount hours before just to show fake interest.

It wasn’t their faces that the curious visitors could see from the entrance, bare simply white mask covering the upper part of the

In cases like that one, anonymity could have spared the lives of many men, if not of all the attending soldiers present for that last goodbye.

“What a pleasant morning to attend a state funeral. Don’t you think so too, Bishop Ferdis?” From the upper balconies overlooking the funeral service sat an old man covered in gold. With harnesses made out of the purest silver one could find on the market

“I beg to differ, dear sister. A death should never be celebrated in such gaudy ways,” Bishop Ferdis replied.

Never taking his old eyes off the apprentice priest blessing the open casket, his robes just a few days old. New yet already dirty after walking around the cathedral and the perimeter of the house of God to attend his duties as a novice.

A laugh was all that he got as a reply.

The figure stepped from the hidden door that led to the balcony, an internal stained window being the door opening and closing it without making a sound.

“Rain cleanses the sins of the miscreants Bishop Ferdis, hence, my previous statement is nothing except right.” A gloved hand went to rest on the luscious chair where the Bishop was resting on.

He didn’t move his head, only his eyes, and yet he couldn’t see her figure entirely from his line of view. His eyes then looked up, towards the higher levels of Daunting Cathedral. In search for the reassurance inside the house of God promised to him too many years ago.

A trembling light coming from the small oval window of the dome nearly made him shed the few tears that remained in his cloaked body.

“God has many ways to forgive his believers. But you of all people should know that,” he replied with fanned breaths. The bones in his body tired with every second added while seated in front of the masked woman.

“That’s what you pigs of the clergy made people believe. Indoctrination is a powerful weapon if used wisely after all.” Bishop Ferdis bit his lower lip as he still didn’t avert his gaze from looking up.

“If that’s what you believe then it’s useless for us to continue this conversation any longer.” Her hand was back there once more, gripping his shoulder so that he couldn’t move, so that he would stay put.

“Why your eminence still decided to attend still remains a mystery to me.” The woman laughed right before she started circling him. Leaning on the railing of the internal balcony to take a better look at the end of such gaudy theatrics.

“The house of God is my refuge,” the Bishop said. Turning around to take a better look at the woman he’d seen countless times before that day.

“But God isn’t always watching over you as your eminence tends to think,” silence fell as the apprentice priest started reciting his last verses.

She couldn’t wait for his body to be buried deep down, below the surface of the earth, and the truth he carried with him.

“We’re here today to give the final goodbye to our dear brother. Brother Brek will be missed by many, now he lies between the embrace of God, eternity now a step in front of him. Let us all gather around his family as this final goodbye accompanies his terrain body towards the land of God on earth. Stand up and let us pray to wish him a safe journey.”

The masked figure sneered a little when the priest mentioned his family. Turning her head to take a better look at the three figures at the front, a woman and two young boys crying without rest.

Such good actors those three were, it’d taken a while to gather the three of them, but the results were better than she’d anticipated.

Those tears would have fooled her if she didn’t know where the real family of Brek Haywire had gone to endless tides ago. All three of them were already seven feet under the family tomb way before the Brek himself.

The casket down below them was finally closed, with the veil covering the cold ornate body now gone. The small crowd started standing back on their feet for the final and last goodbye.

Bishop Ferdis was the first to leave, his cane hitting the white marbled floor as he didn’t bother bidding goodbye to the woman who’d kept him company.

Instead, he spoke these words: “The house of God is my refuge.”

The masked figure turned around to take a better look at the man she’d already seen countless of times under different circumstances.

“Bishop Ferdis likes to play with things he isn’t even aware of,” the woman spoke from under her hood.

“I’ll ask once more, and I expect to receive a concise answer this time, your eminence. Why are you here?” Bishop Ferdis didn’t even have time as he felt his throat tightening, air supply coming less as his cane hit the floor, soon followed by his heavy body.

She rarely used her abilities when not expressly needed, but a small push would have surely helped his memory.

He tried to relieve the pressure from his throat, scratching it to attempt to break free of whatever was slowly cutting off his blood flow. His vision was now filled with black spots, his erratic eyes settled on the woman, silently begging for mercy. She loosened her grip after that, letting him free her, but just enough to get him to breathe again.

“Weapons aren’t allowed in the house of God Lady, you should know it better than me.” He half-choked between his words, as he’d no saliva left to speak.

“You look haggard, your eminence. Are you sleeping enough at night? Or is there something that’s haunting you in your pious dreams?” The woman asked as he finally looked in her direction.

“There’s nothing that keeps me awake at night, dear sister. Instead, I believe congratulations are in order, no?” The woman tensed under her heavy clothes, silently thanking the cold, variable weather that the Rowlian Empire had forced her into wearing those clothes all year long, except during the summer of course.

“I have no idea what your eminence is talking about.”

That was a lie, but he didn’t have to know.

“Now that Brother Haywire has passed on, a new left hand of the crown will be chosen, no? Those were the pacts which the parties of the Peace of Gereniè agreed to fifty years ago.”

For being a step before death she had to admit that his mind was still as sly as the day they’d met twenty-one years ago.

“The choice still hasn’t been made, Bishop Ferdis. And as a man of God you shouldn’t worry about that.” She showed him the door, opening slightly so that he could get out easily.

How stupid of him to accept her help.

“The house of God is my refuge,” It made her laugh, the fact that he still didn’t know he’d pronounced his last words. “Then die in it,” was all she replied.

She didn’t even give him the time to react before pushing him off the railing and down the spiral-staircase.

His body arched around the railing, and horribly while at it. The first skin that hit the steps was the head, which made right after a single crack, followed by a loud cluck as the rest of his body uncontrollably fell to the ground.

She was the only one who witnessed his fall, or at least that’s what she thought. His now soulless body resting peacefully over a forming puddle of blood, turning the white marble into a deep red pool of freshly spilled blood.

If people wouldn’t have found him soon, then marble would have absorbed the blood in less than a couple of hours.

Exactly like the time when she’d mindlessly spilled on the ground every drop of wine coming from a golden chalice during a feast as a child. She remembered very well the wooden stick that flogged her back twenty times that day. How could she ever dare forget it?

Looking around she saw the cane, lying a few steps below. Not even bothering to wait for the priest to finish his sermon, she grabbed the bone cane, breaking it in two before throwing it down the staircase.

The two pieces of bone now laid beside their owner.

An accident, that’s all that had happened on the internal balcony while overseeing the funeral of her comrade. Bishop Ferdis, due to his old age, had slipped and fallen to his death down the stairs while he was on his way to pray for the soul of Haywire to swiftly reach the Heavens above.

Accidents happen every day to all living beings after all. So why should a man of God not face divine judgment by the hand of a mere mortal such as her?

It was then that it stopped raining outside.

The droplets hitting the stained windows weren’t heard anymore. Sign that her presence was no longer needed.

“The orders were to overlook, not to dispose of. What’s gotten into you, Steel?” A new voice entered the balcony as the masked figure didn’t bother looking at the approaching person.

“He was asking around too much for my liking, openly disregarding the Crown’s warning of attendance,” she seethed, licking her dry lips before continuing.

“You would have done the same thing, so stop taunting me before you end the same way as he did.” The new entry covered her mouth to not let her laughter out. Even if the newly daunting chimes of the twin bells of the bell tower would have covered her spiteful laughter from reaching the ears of strangers.

The procession to lay the body of brother Brek started right before the two women left the balcony. Making sure to not step on the blood nor touch the body of Bishop Ferdis as they exited Daunting Cathedral by using a secondary exit. One not known to the public.

It was then that they heard a young maiden’s scream torn the air around them both. Looks like his body had already been found.

“People are going to start talking even now. You made a mess this time.”

“I simply did what the Crown asked me to do, Carter,” Steel replied impassibly.

“Because of you, I now need a drink.”

“You always need a drink when off-duty.” The other smiled at those words, not bothering to refute her accusations.

Both of them didn’t even turn back when they stepped out into the polluted air of the Imperial Capital. The smoke of the early prototype C.A.R.S engulfed them in a handful of instant, making them pick a carriage horse-drawn to escape the scene.

The bells then chimed three times once more, announcing the newly found death.

A new funeral was soon going to be held at Daunting Cathedral. And once again, the fault would have lied within her, and her alone.