NOVEL NEXT Vol 2. Chapter 64: The High Septon of the Church
Lukas stood beside Jesse, Rosalia, and Magnus in one of the great dining halls of the Elarion Royal Palace. The space was gilded and warm, filled with the soft hum of noble chatter and the clinking of silverware against fine porcelain.
It was the evening before the Duel, and the hall brimmed with the esteemed guests who had arrived from across the continent to witness it.
The weeks had flown by and Rosalia trained tirelessly under both Lukas and Celina's watchful eyes. Every movement refined, every flaw ironed out. The princess had done everything that she could and now it was just a matter of seeing how her fight with Soren would play out.
Tonight was not about battle.
As always, politics demanded its due.
Tonight was about pleasantries. Empty smiles and polished diplomacy wrapped in wine-soaked laughter.
Magnus and Rosalia greeted guests with poised charm, thanking them for traveling to Easthaven.
Lukas had become something of a celebrity among the visiting dignitaries—many were curious about the mage who had made coming to Easthaven possible in the first place. "Klein" was a mage who had now solidified himself as one of the strongest in humanity's history and as a result Lukas found himself surrounded more often than not.
Nobles asked him if he really did do all that alone but Lukas knew that many of them were just making sure of the promise he'd made even before he calmed the seas. A promise that every ship sailing to Easthaven would arrive untouched, unbothered by the storm-ridden oceans and that every ship would have a month to return back from whence they came.
It would be easier the second time around, that much Lukas knew. He had grown stronger because of it.
The room was heavy with shallow greetings, formal exchanges, and carefully crafted smiles. Just as monotony was beginning to irritate the Dragon Lord, Lukas saw a group enter that pulled his attention from the noise.
The delegation from the Kingdom of Nozar.
King Daerion led them in, towering and unmistakable. Broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, and already a few drinks in, his voice carried even before he spoke. A behemoth of a man, unchanged from when Lukas last saw him in Nozar. On his arm was a young woman Lukas didn't recognize—yet another beautiful stranger in a long line of fleeting conquests. Daerion rarely arrived anywhere without one, a womanizer as always.
The large man clapped Magnus on the shoulder, greeting him with the warm, boisterous affection of an old friend. Daerion also turned to Rosalia, wished her luck, and gave a proud nod as if he had a right to take credit for her strength.
Behind him stood two figures in naval blue.
The first being Vice Admiral Anriette Vale, sharp as ever, her expression cool and assessing. And beside her was…the Admiral Maelis Elarion.
Lukas froze for a moment. He hadn't expected to see Maelis here. He had not known that Maelis would be a part of Daerion's retinue but there he was.
Lukas' eyes flicked to Magnus. The old man remained stone still, gaze locked on Daerion and nowhere near the former member of the Elarion Royal Family. The man who Magnus had once called his son.
The space between Maelis and Magnus might as well have been a chasm. Neither man acknowledged the other with Maelis ignoring his father just as easily.
Instead, the Admiral stepped forward and embraced Rosalia.
"Little rose," Maelis greeted with a warm smile. "It's good to see you. You've grown even more since our time apart."
She returned his smile, genuine and bright. "Uncle Maelis! I didn't know you were coming!"
"I wouldn't miss this Duel for the world," Maelis replied. "I'll be cheering for you tomorrow."
Lukas watched the exchange for a moment before turning his attention to Anriette Vale. "It's been a while," Lukas said with a smile.
Anriette took the hand that Lukas had offered her, her grip firm.
"It has been too long, Klein. Is…that really the Head Mage? Is that really Magnus Elarion himself?" Anriette whispered, making sure that only Lukas could hear her inquiry, gesturing towards Magnus.
Lukas remembered how much Anriette had wanted to visit Easthaven and its Magic Tower; it seemed like the Duel had been the opportunity the Vice Admiral needed to finally do just that. Anriette seemed awestruck now that she was actually in the presence of the very man who had built the Tower from the ground up.
Lukas smiled faintly, giving her a nod.
"Would you introduce me to him?" She asked.
"I'd be more than happy to."
Lukas did notice that there seemed to be someone absent from Daerion's entourage: Soren.
Daerion's bastard son had never struck Lukas as the type to engage in highborn social affairs. And frankly, the King of Nozar had never cared much for formality or appearances either. Whether his son was there or not made little difference to him. It seemed like Soren had other things to occupy his time with, likely preparing himself for the fight that would take place tomorrow afternoon.
They all continued to catch up with another, the tension easing as Jesse eagerly joined the conversation between Rosalia and Maelis. Their laughter blended easily with the noise of the grand dining hall.
Lukas didn't need to be on guard, even with the Nozari among them. They had home court advantage for one thing and he found himself not really having to worry about Rosalia's safety as much as he once did.
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Rosalia was more than capable now. She was stronger than most and there would be few who could pose a threat to her.
But just when Lukas had begun to relax, he felt a sensation that he had felt before. It crept up his spine like the touch of cold water. Icy and electric. His instincts, honed over battles and survival, flared to life in warning. He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he searched for the source of the disturbance.
Anriette followed his gaze, and without hesitation, she bowed her head. Deep and formal.
Lukas' eyes landed on the woman standing at the edge of the gathering. She was alone, save for one figure by her side—Celina, the Divine Knight of the Church herself.
The woman wore ceremonial robes of white and gold, elegant and flowing, a fine veil of silken material covering her face. She seemed quaint but there was nothing soft about the way the woman carried herself.
The aura around her was thick with divine pressure, subtle but suffocating.
She walked with quiet purpose through the crowd. The room shifted with her. One by one, nobles, businessmen, even the wealthiest of men, turned and bowed as she passed.
Even the Kings of Hiraeth followed suit. Even Daerion, a man who bowed to nobody, bowed to her.
Lukas felt the sudden drop in temperature around him—not from magic, but from the sheer weight of reverence she commanded. He stood his ground, confused, watching as she came straight toward him.
When she stopped in front of him, every pair of eyes in the circle lowered in unison. Except his.
Lukas looked at her and asked, voice steady, "Who are you?" He did not ask this out of disrespect or confrontation. He wanted to know who this strange woman was. He had to know.
Celina turned sharply toward him, her stare cold and sharp, as if Lukas just insulted someone beyond reproach. Everyone around them shifted, uneasy, like Lukas had crossed a line; a line that he did not realized had been drawn.
Rosalia tugged at his sleeve, voice low and urgent. "Lukas," she whispered. "That's the High Septon of the Church."
Lukas stiffened. He took a moment, then gave the woman a short, respectful bow. This was a woman who carried even more authority than the High Priests. A woman who commanded the Church, the woman who Oceanus had chosen to speak through.
It seemed like the High Septon had come to see who could become the next Divine Knight, who would potentially be the next holy warrior under her command.
"My name is Klein," Lukas said after a moment of silence.
To his surprise, the High Septon let out a soft laugh. A sound more genuine than formal, warm and unexpected.
Lukas blinked, unsure what he'd said that was funny.
Before he could ask, her voice cut through the tension with serene clarity. "My name is unimportant. But I know who you are. Rowan sends his greetings. He apologizes for not being able to make it for the Duel."
Lukas stilled. He had not heard that name in a very long time. Not since Nozar.
He would later learn why the High Septon knew the Head of the Morningeyes Clan. The woman before him did not reside in the Inner Cities of Nozar, like the other High Priests of the Church. The High Septon had chosen to remain in Khaitish and had done so for many years now; overseeing the activities of the Church in that Kingdom.
Lukas studied the woman now with fresh eyes. So the Hero wasn't the only one that Oceanus spoke to. Was she as powerful as the Hero From Another World? Lukas honestly did not know. And he was not planning on finding out.
The High Septon turned her attention to Rosalia, and though her face was hidden, her voice carried a gentle warmth. "Princess, I look forward to your Duel tomorrow. I wish you the best of luck."
Rosalia bowed gracefully. "Thank you. I shall do my best." She smiled, soft but confident.
Lukas, meanwhile, kept his eyes on the High Septon. Not out of defiance—out of curiosity and out of wariness. He didn't know what to make of her. Was she friend or foe? He had not a clue. There was something about her—something that pulled at the edge of Lukas' awareness like a whisper in a language he didn't understand.
The High Septon exuded mystery in the purest form and that unsettled him.
The mysterious woman turned to Celina then, the Divine Knight standing quietly at her side.
That, too, caught Lukas' attention.
They seemed close—far closer than he would have expected. There was no stiffness between them, no forced gestures. Celina stood like a shadow beside her, protective without tension, willingly obedient without fear.
Lukas remembered, suddenly, one of the first honest conversations he'd had with Celina.
Celina had told him, quietly and without looking him in the eyes, about the abuse she endured during her training in the Church. About the cruelty hidden beneath holy scripture and gold-lined temples. About the suffering that she had to go through before Daerion put an end to all of it.
Suffering at the hands of the Priests within that holy instituition.
Yet here Celina was, faithfully attending to this woman.
That meant something. It meant that the High Septon had not been part of that cruelty. It meant that Celina trusted her.
The High Septon turned to Celina, her voice too soft for anyone but those closest to hear. "I've seen enough," she told her. "I'll be retiring for the night."
Celina gave a slight nod and turned to escort her out of the dining hall.
Before she took her leave, the High Septon paused. She looked over her shoulder, her gaze landing once more on Lukas. Though her face remained hidden beneath the veil, he felt her eyes lock onto him. As if she could see something he couldn't. As if she already knew something he hadn't yet discovered about himself.
"I will be watching your progress with great interest. Prove to me…you are a worthy investment."
Then the High Septon turned, leaving the room without waiting for a reply.
He'd heard those words before. Where had he heard those words before?
Lukas stood there for a moment, expression unreadable. But those were not words worth stressing over, at least not right now. Maybe he would get the chance to speak with her before she left Easthaven. It was something to ponder on later.
Tonight wasn't about the High Septon. It was about Rosalia Elarion.
Lukas' attention drifted back to the princess—laughing, chatting with Jesse and Maelis, her posture relaxed but her eyes always sharp. Lukas would be there for her, cheering her on like he had every step of the way.
No matter what happened, Rosalia would not face tomorrow alone.
Tomorrow, she would fight for something more than recognition. She would fight for the title she had chased her entire life. She would be fighting for the position to become the next Divine Knight of the Church.