Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

The Weight of Choice Part 1

Archdeacon Lowen hurried through the hallways of the Temple, half-running towards the temple's inner prison where they kept the criminals, following behind him was Commander Hastings. When he got there, the Head Jailer charged with the prison refused his entry.

"You! Do you know who I am?!"

Panicked, the man bowed profusely. "Many apologies, Archdeacon Lowen. I was ordered not to let anyone inside, even if it's you."

Before the Archdeacon blew up, Hastings scratched his grimy hair and asked. "Who gave the order?"

"I, er…"

"It will be easier for everyone if you just tell us, young man," Hastings said with a calm, level tone. Juxtaposed to the Archdeacon's lividness.

"Well, it's…the Maiden of Water, Commander. She had ordered me that entry to the prison is to be restricted to everyone but Her Eminence and those with her permission."

"What?!" Lowen slammed his hands onto the desk of the Head Jailer, causing his inkwell to fall.

Just as he was berating the increasingly apologetic Head Jailer, a voice interrupted him.

"Good morning, Archdeacon Lowen. What is the esteemed Archdeacon doing down in this bleak, gloomy prison?"

The old Archdeacon turned his head to see the source of the greeting that was positively dripping with self-satisfaction. "Lieutenant Millicent. This must be a misunderstanding. Deacon Orlo is a pious servant of the Goddess! What reason do you have to capture him? I demand to see him!"

"You wish to see a man who has been cavorting with Vorzenny?"

The news hit him like a well-placed Fireball, the Archdeacon immediately lost his words. His eyes widened, and he took a step back. "W-what?"

"Yes. We found proof of his connection with the Vorzennian spies in his home," the Lieutenant said with barely concealed smile.

Hastings caught him before he fell, saving his dignity.

"It must be a mistake," he asserted once more. "This must be a trap to fell an innocent man!"

He tried to reason with the Lieutenant. Yet, his adamance to see him had nothing to do with any loyalty he had for the man. It was because Orlo was the one handling many of his more 'unsavory' business. I have to keep him from talking.

"Pray keep your wits about you, Archdeacon. Deacon Orlo is under investigation, after we are finished, you might be able to see him. Until then, if you have something to complain about, you may take it to Her Eminence," the young woman spoke plainly.

Lowen growled with barely concealed anger. "Then I will meet Her Eminence and tell her of my grievance."

"As you wish, Archdeacon. If you have nothing else, it would be best if you leave the prison. It is not good for someone of your distinguished age to be in such a cold and dirty place."

The Archdeacon fixed his collar with a cringe of his nose. "Thank you for your concern, Lieutenant Millicent. But my health is my concern alone."

With those parting words, the old man walked past the young Lieutenant, ignoring her slight bow.

"Lieutenant."

"Commander."

Hastings gave a curt parting word, a small show of politeness before following the Archdeacon out of the prison.

It was already past dinnertime when Millicent came to see Allenca. She was speaking with Babblebrook in her office.

"Has the rat opened his mouth yet?"

"He is surprisingly staunch in his unwillingness to speak. I think he knows that once we got all that we need from him, his life will be forfeit, even if we do nothing."

"Vorzenny does not forgive traitors," Babblebrook spoke. "And by the veiled threats that Lowen spoke of this afternoon, neither will he."

"Wee…don't have much time. Can you…do it…faaaster?"

"Not without killing him," Millicent said. Her eyes narrowed. "How about using…your gift, Your Eminence?"

The Maiden of Water's eyes gazed at her loyal guard's. "If I use it…he'll know. And he'll…have to die."

"He will die either way."

It will indeed be easier for her to use her Words of Power to get the truth out of Orlo. However, its effect was only temporary.

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The only reason she was willing to use that power in her last excursion to the Capital was because the Artifact that she used allowed her to command to be permanent.

Using it risks the knowledge of that power to be leaked if Orlo lived.

But more than that, it was because she was still averse to the idea of taking a life. Even if it was the life of a known sinner.

"In that case, I…might have a solution," Babblebrook spoke.

The obese Archdeacon then explained about how during his time in the battlefield many years ago, a young Cleric who had been awake for a few days without sleep due to the condition of the battlefield, overmedicated himself with Invigorating Potion. As a result, he fell into a manic episode wherein he burst into a run around the camp in full nudity. The young Babblebrook, who happened to be in the same platoon, casted a Sleep Spell onto him. However, because of the potion, it was not that effective, causing him to have to cast it twice.

Eventually the Spell took effect, but instead of falling asleep, the Aspirant fell to a state of half-asleep half-awake state. In this state, the Aspirant was able to respond to his questions and seemed to be lucid. Upon waking, however, he could not remember what happened while he was in that state.

"Hmm…are you saying that you want to put Orlo in that state, Archdeacon? Is it even replicable?"

"I managed to succeed doing it as a prank twice during my early years. Well, after six tries. It's a better choice than letting Her Eminence's power be revealed to others."

"If you believe you can, Babblebrook. You have my permission."

"It will be done, Your Eminence," Archdeacon Babblebrook bowed in acknowledgement.

Later that night, Allenca and Millicent visited the prison in the guise of lowly Aspirants bearing food for the prisoners.

The Head Jailor, a supporter of hers, had made sure that she could enter unhindered and swore his men to secrecy.

As Allenca walked into the prison cell where Orlo was kept, she saw him sitting upright on a worn-out piece of cloth; his arms bound by a shackled hung from an iron stake pounded into the wall so that they had to stay up. His head lolled to one side; a strand of saliva hanging off his lips.

She stood before him, looking down at the pitiful wretch with her eyes of cerulean blue, and spoke.

"State your name."

His lips quivered slightly before a listless voice escaped his lips. "Or…lo Stroheim…"

Allenca looked at Millicent, who was standing to the side. She nodded quietly and pulled out a parchment and a quill pen. She licked the tip expectantly.

Then, Allenca started to ask him questions. With each question, she found out that the problem was deeper than she thought. The swamp was getting murkier with each question as it became harder to separate those who were connected to him simply for money and those that have a part in the treason.

After almost an hour of questioning, she began to feel faint and nauseous. Signs of Mana Exhaustion.

Milicent, who saw him wobbling, supported her friend and sat her down on a nearby chair. "I think that's enough. You must rest."

While massaging the bridge of her nose to stymie the nausea, Allenca made a sigh. "So, Archdeacon Lowen…waaas not involved with the treason, after all. Juuust one man…unsatisfied with hiiiis…ill-gotten gains, trying to rope in moooore…traitors into his fold."

The female Knight hissed. "This is not going to be easy."

Not long after the interrogation, Millicent was given the order to investigate the men who had contact with Deacon Orlo, those were confirmed to be traitors and those still doubt. Her men had also found a stack of duplicates of ledgers that showed the unlawful gains Archdeacon Lowen and many of his men had gotten.

Allenca wanted to do it as quietly as possible to avoid any unwanted attention, but soon she found that it was working against her.

A few days passed and the investigation had grounded to a halt. Involved clergymen were suddenly nowhere to be found, and those with relations to them were entirely unhelpful to the effort. It was clear to her that Archdeacon Lowen had something to do with it.

"…from the list of men that Orlo gave us, we only managed to catch three. Most of them had already fled Grottenstadt," Archdeacon Babblebrook reported.

"Archdeacon Lowen is just making this more difficult for us just to make a show of his power," Millicent said exasperatedly.

The fat Archdeacon nodded grimly. "Intentional or not, this is hindering us from doing a clean sweep."

"But we cannot make any drastic moves, lest we alarm the Knights in the city."

"What if…we ask them for help? After all, this matter concerns the whole Kingdom."

"Inconceivable! Doing that will cause the people to see Her Eminence as weak!" Millicent spouted angrily. Then realized what she just said. "Forgive my ill thought-out words, Your Eminence!"

"No…you are correct. We should…handle this…internally."

"Perhaps we should ask Her Highness Rachel to advise us?" Millicent asked.

"You don't knooow this…as you've been busy, but my mentor…fell…siiick last night," the Maiden, looking extremely exhausted, shook her head. "We cannot disturb…heeer rest."

Ever since her mentor returned from her seclusion, those who served her had said that she slept very lightly these days. The night wind too did not agree with her. And just two days ago she had fallen sick with a light fever.

Babblebrook tapped the side of his temple. "Then…might I suggest asking someone outside the Church? A certain Duchess who handed us this problem in the first place? Her wisdom had created miracles after miracles. I am sure something will come out of discussion with her."

Allenca's eyes widened upon seeing this small light of hope.

After Akula started cultivating, a change had begun to be visible in her physique. She started shedding hair at an incredible pace that others had to help brush her coat daily so that they did not irritate her. And for this matter, Illumca volunteered to help, while Connie – in her interest of understanding the effect of cultivation in another Race – also took up a brush.

The ever-keen Madame Sui did not volunteer as she were busy with preparing breakfast. It would be more convincing if she did not wink as she made that excuse. Yes, she wore a blindfold, but Akula swore that she could see the raven-haired woman wink behind the cloth.

So as not to make a mess, they borrowed the unused shed where Elfriede's departed father used to keep his tools. To which the very welcoming mother of the Archmage readily obliged.

"Fascinating," Connie ran her hand across Akula's back. "It's so smooth, like fine silk. Yet they are also tougher. There is always something new to learn in Grea."

After a closer inspection, as new hair grew to replace the old hair, she found that they were more lustrous and stronger than the old one.

Akula did not refuse the action; blushing lightly at the odd, but not unpleasant sensation.

Then, there was a knock at the edge of the shed's door.

"Mistress," Martell spoke without entering the shed. "Lieutenant Millicent came by, she asked me to give you this letter."

Connie strode forward and took the letter from the young Beastfolk's hand. After reading it, she held the paper aloft. "Illumca, a fire, please."

A butterfly made of flame landed on top of the paper and burned it to ashes. Connie let it burn until it nearly touched her fingers before releasing it, the ashes blown away by the wind.

"Illumca, come with me. We've got somewhere to go to. And Martell, watch after your junior sister. Whack her if she falls asleep during meditation again!!"

Akula let out a deep grumble of annoyance as Martell bowed with a cupped hand.