On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

“This is… greatly troubling.” Inquisitor-Cardinal Maximillian Meyer observed, stroking his neatly trimmed beard, which was the same snowy white as his hair. Hearing that, Revelation-Cardinal Lorenzo Giudice could not help but agree, though the thought caused him near-physical pain.

“No…” Maximillian continued, hand stroking the cross-shaped hilt of the relic sword Crucis Purgationis idly. The blade seemed somehow more real than usual, and a faint smell was rising from it, the tang of iron hanging in the air like rusty perfume.

Perhaps if the blade was unsheathed, the bright metal would be red. Red with shed blood. The Inquisitor-Cardinal has been busy, doing the Lord’s work, and exalting the Throne.

“…not just troubling, but a great danger to the True Revelation.” He made the sign of the cross, eyes shut in anguish for a moment, before he opened them, his blue-grey eyes still bright with strength and faith. “Though the Book says that there will be many tribulations, and I have never doubted that. We must overcome. The path to the Ninth Heaven is paved with daggers, and we must walk on bloody feet, heedless of the pain and the loss. But… the loss…”

Following his gaze, Lorenzo observed the empty podiums. Too many now. One absence stung the hardest. If he closed his eyes, Lorenzo could almost imagine that Luca Aloisio, the Judgement-Cardinal, was still standing there, his usual fiery temper on full display. Alas not. Turning one’s sight away from sacrifices made for the Lord is not just folly, but deeply blasphemous. No, we must celebrate the fact that Luca Aloisio shall be seated at the right hand of the Lord, even if we lament his passing, and… the failure of the mission.

“Yes, the loss.” he agreed. Now only six of the thirteen podiums were filled, in their underground chamber of worship. It had been eight. Sadly, Mary Stuart, the successor to Magdalena Stuart, and now Luca Aloisio, had both fallen, martyred in pursuit of their goals. “Una tragedia. Though a noble tragedy.”

“There is no greater honour that dying in battle for one’s faith…” Maximillian agreed, before his lips quirked into a pained smile. “Though Luca, he would have called that foolish, saying victory was the greatest honour.” Sighing, he shook his head, the golden plates attached to his white vestments jingling, though many of them bore new scars and dents, seemingly having been through hard use.

A hissing laugh came from the silent mouth of the red-eyed and black-haired Konstantin Solovyov. His open mouth revealed the stump of his tongue, but he could still make some quiet sounds, when the mood took him. Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed, but Konstantin’s twin sister, Anastasia Solovyova, who had the same red eyes and pure black hair as her brother, only hers was like a flowing waterfall, down to her waist. It wasn’t merely black, their hair, but a midnight black so dark as to seem almost blue as the light was absorbed. Coupled with their eyes, it was the mark of unclean blood, as were all unnatural hair and eye colours. Throwbacks to another age.

Yet it is written in the Book that even the unclean and the wretched can be saved, should they only dedicate their all to the Throne. And… they were chosen by the prior Blessing- and Cursing-Cardinals as successors, as well as the Lord for his blessings. The relics are proof of that, and that they knew the secret ways, and the true knowledge. And… they performed all their tasks successfully, in Russia and the surrounding countries.

“Brother agrees, though he finds the Judgement-Cardinal’s end a noble one. He only wishes that the false Tree of Knowledge was cast down, and the snake broken upon the wheel. For knowledge…” Her smile was gentle, yet there was an edge to it, one Lorenzo struggled to decipher. “…is both the greatest strength, and the bitterest weakness.” She held the golden goblet to her chest, the Poculum Orationis, the Cup of Prayer. Even now it was filled with a ruby liquid, and shimmering sparks of belief rose from it, calming the room.

Yes, without the benediction, perhaps I would rage, for a lost friend, and a bitter defeat. As it is now… “Yes. So it proved. The Book…” He patted his own relic, perhaps the most powerful of them all, for it contained the truths that mortals could know, before reaching Sainthood. “…itself grows ever more complete, yet… the celestial clockwork of the Throne’s designs is out of step, the gears sticking, others missing or broken.”

“We know that the Charity-Cardinal and Faith-Cardinal are likely lost without successors. But…” the olive-skinned, weary crone Konstantina Drakos rattled. Despite the great power she had been bequeathed, unlike the others, she did not seem to have become healthier, stronger. Only her spirit had intensified. “…that still leaves three unaccounted for. And now… we have the ways to find them.” Her brown eyes which seemed almost green in a different light shone with faith. “The Grigori spoke, and… we claimed our prizes.”

“Using such… heathen works… troubles me.” the last of the Cardinals, the small, dark-skinned Commandment-Cardinal José Ortiz rasped, his Spanish accent noticeable. “But the greatest Commandment is simply to triumph. The Lord requires results, no?” At his side was his whip, which had seen fierce use during his own tasks, which had also been concluded satisfactorily.

“Esattamente. Exactly.” Lorenzo agreed, clasping his hands in benediction. “I have no wish to fail the Lord, condemn this world and all the souls within it to damnation. Though it seems they do not understand.” He clicked his tongue, frustrated. “We did not revel in our actions. But we shall never deny them.”

“Quite.” Anastasia agreed, idly swirling the grail in her hands. “Those who died shall be forgiven, for the Lord is just and merciful.” Her ruby eyes reflected the light from the Cup of Prayer as she gazed down at it. “And while the families of the slain may grieve, lament, cast their hate at us… only through such sacrifices shall we cow the foolhardy.” She clicked her tongue. “It is a great trial to us, the folly of the unbelievers. Why… they call us terrorists. How prosaic.”

“Yes.” Maximillian agreed. “I did not wish to take this route, but… the world turns away, and we must set it back on course. When wisdom is not respected, strength is the answer. I… abhor slaying children, but… better a handful perish, than the Throne’s wrath descended. I have no wish to see another Great Flood, or the Angel of Death come again, bringing plagues and misfortune across the world. But…” He clenched his fist on the hilt of his relic blade. “…it has not worked. Not as planned. Not at all… Luca…”

“Yes. He surely fought to his last drop of breath. And with the time being right…” Konstantina hissed. “…the Grigori knowing it was time to strike…” Her words came out laboured, and for a moment Lorenzo feared another of their number might leave them, her heart failing, but after her suddenly pale face regained some colour, she continued, a faint trickle of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth. No, she is too devout to die, not while the work remains undone. Donna testarda, stubborn woman!

“…and though he possessed the Great Wall Of Twelve Gates, it seems… he trapped a Devil inside with him. An unforeseen Devil.” she finished, her eyes glittering with malice.

“Yes.” José agreed. “Other than Maximillian, Luca was without peer in battle, and the Rota Iudicii was a tool of destruction. I find it hard to believe any other than the impious wretch Akio Oshiro could stand against him. But…”

“It seems that the false Tree is guarded by more than one serpent.” Lorenzo agreed. “The Book…” He stroked the leatherbound cover of his treasure, the Verum Lore, the True Knowledge. Under his touch it was hot, and the energy within was far stronger now that actions had been taken. “…is not flawless. Only the Lord can be, and we are far from the light of the Ninth Heaven. The scriptures speak, but this world is a dark room. We cast our stones in the darkness, unerringly towards our targets, but… some others have been predicting as well. Their stones strike ours, or the people shift, making our rocks miss. There is too much… meddling.”

“Yes. But many eyes were blinded, many tongues no longer speak. Not all…” Maximillian sighed. “There were other failures, though none as costly as the fall of Judgement-Cardinal Luca. But enough. The darkness should once more be quieter, although…”

“Sometimes the sun shines through. Illuminating.” Anastasia laughed softly. At the podium beside her, her brother nodded firmly. “This world is a jewel, floating in darkness. But light is creeping through the ever-widening cracks. Many… unexpected… complications disarray the grand plan. One has been a thorn in our side and cost us two of our brethren.”

“Akio Oshiro.” Lorenzo hissed. “To defeat Mary Stuart and steal what is ours… that was shock enough. But now even in his absence, his followers have once more thwarted us. Many Judges were lost as well, and the Martyred Dead returned to dust and soil. Even the Children of Iblis failed, despite their proud boasts.”

Konstantin tried to groan out some sounds, and his sister stopped him, her tone soothing. “Peace, brother. I know. Your Falsa Testa seeks blood and vengeance.” He was indeed clutching the heavy spear, the head a strange bronze mental, pitted with a fine patina of rust. “Yet…” Her ruby eyes glowed with innocence, a purity that was both blessed and also… somehow off-putting.

Nel nome di Dio… those who serve the Lord with the greatest fervour often have room for little else in their hearts…

“…to be hasty is to invite further… complications.” Though these two were not bound by the long fellowship of the other Cardinals, Lorenzo had no complaints about their abilities or faith. A number of these false heretics, using powers given by false idols, had been slain by them, the blasphemous gifts retrieved and fed to the Linked Angels, distributing the strength.

“No…” Anastasia voiced her thoughts. “We can no longer act recklessly. Not even my brother and I would feel confident in challenging him now, not unless he was alone. Even then…” Her smile was wry now. “…you saw as I did. The lightning was sliced. That spiritual wretch, soulless sword… it is strong. A weapon left behind…”

Her brother clutched his spear, as if wishing to stab Akio Oshiro with it, and Lorenzo understood. He also understood Anastasia. “Yes, we cannot confront him again, unless we are certain of victory. We have limited resources, even now, that we can bring to bear at once. And were we all to travel to Japan, bring all the Choirs, Judges and Martyred Dead, as well as the new forces we have distributed the Linked Angels to… if we clashed with Akio Oshiro, Shaeula Tu Shae Dannan, and whatever other Devils he has at his disposal and lost… no, non può tollerare che!” Lorenzo’s words were low, resonant, powerful. “We cannot countenance our efforts failing here!”

“Yes.” she agreed. “I suspect if all our strength was marshalled, we would be victorious. But… not without great sacrifice. And while sacrifice is holy… we have other threats. China, for example. All our efforts there have been… intercepted. When caught between the Devil and the deep blue sea, one must be careful not to drown.”

“We…” Konstantina coughed, her throat hoarse. “…did not receive the results we desired in Japan. Not only did we suffer losses, many targets escaping, but… the iron fist of fear did not strike like a meteor, as… as we wished.” She paused, her next words coming out in a bitter hiss. “If reason fails, force suffices. And fear of terrible force is a great motivator. But… the acts they call terrorism… they yielded bitter fruit indeed. No, Japan is angry, rather than terrified, and they still have confidence as their most visible protectors survive, despite… our efforts.”

“Yes. Worse…” Maximillian observed. “The Imperial Family is accepting him into their ranks, and the popular sentiment is shifting. In ordinary times, such a dynasty would remain immutable, but… in the face of True Revelation, the End of Days, should we not halt that threat… the public will cry out for security, and… he can offer it. Our efforts have made that clear.”

“All is not lost.” Lorenzo did agree, he had hardly wished to strike at children, but it was a message to the people of Japan that not even the families of the powerful were safe, and also to deal with the problematic aping of the lost Seminary, the raising of loyal fanatics. He was prepared to bear the peccati, the sins and the shame, and answer to the Throne. Better a hundred, a thousand innocents perish, than billions of souls are doomed.

“No, our iron fist failed, and our efforts in Japan have only strengthened our foe, and cost us a great man, and a priceless treasure of the faith. While my blood boils at the thought of leaving it and the Anulus Fortunae in their hands a moment longer… we must remain committed to the end goal. Preparing for the time when the way opens, and the Ninth Heaven can pluck this world to its benevolent bosom. To that end… Japan is a problem. But we have other problems. Fortunately, while our iron fist may have stalled, the guanto di velluto, the velvet glove of compassion, it has soothed many. The contrast between our actions has created an opportunity. And our new recruit… he has promise.”

“Judgement-Cardinal Luca was opposed.” José pointed out. “I am hardly thrilled myself. Using those whose faith is not true… it troubles me.”

“Oh come now.” Anastasia answered for Lorenzo. “It is still the Lord. I know our dear departed sister Mary felt that it was worse being of the faith but not of the true faith than it was to be heathen, but that is foolish. The Lord will forgive them, and so should we, if they serve. Just as the Children Of Iblis have been brought to heel by our actions. Japan… Japan is a problem, one we must counter with superiority. If we cannot act there, then we simply surpass them elsewhere.”

As her brother nodded, his face expressionless, her smile changed, regarding him with great fondness. “Yes…” she agreed, seemingly interpreting his body language. “…this is a trial we must overcome. Does not the True Revelation demand that of us? If we solidify our foothold on the remainder of the world, while… provoking… a response from our mutual enemy, directing them to fight… well, drown the Devil, and its dying flames might evaporate the ocean. Let our enemies be as Lot’s wife, and become pillars of salt, to be scattered in the blessed winds of our faith.”

Lorenzo held in a sigh, but he didn’t disagree. “Yes. Your words are wise, Blessing-Cardinal. We should concentrate on our strengths and continue to pursue where we can gain ground. I shall… direct the Linked Seraphim. He can hold it. As for the new Linked Angels, Commandment-Cardinal, Choir-Cardinal…”

José and Konstantina responded, and his next words fell from his lips like thunder. “…train them well. Time… is of the essence. This situation… it is far, far too hasty. We have prepared for fifteen hundred years, and should have been supreme, dominant, and used the decades before us to bring the world to heel, in preparation. But… time slips through our fingers like sand from an hourglass. And while we have dealt with some aberrations, more remain, perhaps yet undiscovered.”

“I shall.” Konstantina agreed, her expression rapturous. “I blaspheme, but… in a way I am well pleased. For… were things to proceed as planned, I would never see the Ninth Heaven descend. Now… now I must keep my old bones intact as long as possible. Ah, to see the true moment!”

As she sighed, lost in thought, José unfurled his bloody whip, the black thorns glittering dully with a ruby hue. With a crack he lashed it out, and the sound it made was thunderous, so reminiscent of the scene on the broadcast from Japan they had just watched. “Yes.” he declared. “I shall scourge the weakness and sin out of those deemed fit to take up the call of their fallen predecessors. And strength only grows when it is honed through sacrifice!”

“Eccellente. While we cannot replace the precious relics of True Revelation, we are not without hope.” Lorenzo intoned gravely. He opened the Verum Lore, the pages filled with neatly scribbled text, the letters tiny, hard to read without excellent eyesight. Flipping through, he reached some blank pages, which slowly were starting to be filled with writing, an invisible hand scribing phrases. The book quivered, almost as if alive, and a great surge of belief rose into the air, visible here even outside of Hallowed Ground.

“No…” Lorenzo repeated. “We are not without salvation. Three are missing, and may yet be found, and the treasures of the Faith-Cardinal and Charity-Cardinal may yet be unearthed. Knowledge… knowledge is light illuminating the darkness of this forgotten, miserable world. But the only light that shall be seen is our salvation. Those… those that are meddling with the True Revelation shall be rooted out, and the fruit of knowledge shall once more rest in our hands.”

“Amen!” everyone exclaimed, except for Konstantin of course, he merely gestured mutely.

“Now we all know what we must do. No more failures can be allowed. We saw the broadcast. The situation has escalated far beyond what we desired. But strong though he is, and his allies… they are nothing compared to the numberless, inexhaustible might of the Throne. Even Luca’s death, Dio riposi in pace la sua anima, may his soul rest with the Lord, shall not halt us. His Linked Seraphim lives on, and his successor shall seek vengeance.”

“For vengeance is mine, I will repay.” Maximillian agreed. “I look forward to that day. And… Akio Oshiro and all your allies… you may see yourselves as good people, perhaps even are… but nonetheless, the Crucis Purgationis shall claim your heads. But I shall pray that you repent in your final moments, and realise the grand sins you committed…”

Lorenzo nodded. As everyone left their podiums, heading for their own spheres of influence, ready for the next stages of their plans, he stroked the Verum Lore once more, feeling the increased power it now held within. Yes, with this… all our plans that have gone awry can be steered back on course. Devil and the deep blue sea, is it? No, there are many Devils yet, and we must first weaken them, starve them out, leaving them nothing but the salty ocean to drink, driving them mad with pain and thirst, before we strike…

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