The carriage rolled steadily through the streets of Aethelberg.
Outside, the city moved with its usual rhythm. Merchants shouted from storefronts. Children ran through side streets. Carriages crossed intersections. Hunters, nobles, laborers, and travelers blended into the endless flow of civilization.
Inside the carriage, however, things were considerably quieter.
Alaric sat with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the window. Gyan sat across from him, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. The shadows at her feet did not move.
"You spent the entire day with your wife," she said.
Alaric did not look at her.
"Yes."
"And you also returned to Blackhaven."
"I did."
"I thought you said you were going to use an artifact or something."
Alaric's lips curved slightly.
"I couldn't resist."
Gyan's eye twitched. Alaric smiled.
"I fail to see the issue."
The woman sitting opposite him sighed.
"You are abusing your authority."
"I prefer the term utilizing available resources."
"You moved across the kingdom just to have snuggle with a woman."
Alaric considered that.
"When you phrase it like that it sounds irresponsible. And that woman is my wife."
"Because, wife or not, it was irresponsible."
"I disagree."
Gyan pinched the bridge of her nose. Alaric remained completely unrepentant.
The Lord of Blackwood looked every bit the composed noble he always appeared to be, yet there was an unmistakable softness in his expression whenever Elara was involved.
In her mind it was his only weakness. One he had never once attempted to correct.
"I simply wished to see my wife."
"You see her everyday when you're at home."
"I wished to see her again."
Gyan stared. Alaric stared back. Eventually the dark woman sighed.
"What if the children discover that you can come and go at will?"
"Come on, my son isn't stupid and Jamie is a bright girl. Of course they know. What they don't know is that I can do it multiple times or leave the capital anytime I desire."
Alaric shrugged.
"What they don't know won't hurt them."
Gyan folded her arms, studying him.
"You're being awfully lax."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
Alaric's smile widened.
The carriage continued forward. Outside the window, the city slowly gave way to older districts. Church bells rang somewhere in the distance.
Gyan glanced at him.
"Speaking of the children. The previous night, Dante arrived at the townhouse. While you were gone."
"And?"
"He challenged me."
"Again?"
"Always." she sighed.
Alaric shook his head.
"He really won't give up."
"Irritatingly no."
"Are you absolutely certain you won't go on a date with him?"
Gyan's expression flattened.
"We have discussed this. My answer remains unchanged."
"You aren't interested?"
"Not even remotely."
Alaric leaned forward.
"Anyone else you have in mind?"
Gyan ignored him entirely.
"Dante arrived speaking about how much he missed the children."
Alaric sighed.
'Hm, foiled once again.'
"Apparently they escaped his supervision. He was very upset especially when he found out that they weren't home yet."
"They returned five minutes later."
Alaric nodded.
"They are resourceful."
"That's not the point."
Alaric remained unconvinced. Gyan continued.
"They both returned and went straight to their rooms. I sensed movement later—Jamie left her room and entered Elias's."
Alaric considered this.
"They are children. They do things."
"They're hiding things."
"Of course they are."
Gyan frowned.
"You say that so casually."
"They deserve secrets. I'd be a fool if I pretended I didn't see the signs."
"They are children."
"They are Ascendants."
That immediately changed the context. Children matured quickly after awakening. Not completely but enough that ordinary standards ceased applying. They both knew this.
"They're trying to carve their own paths."
His voice softened.
"Our job is not to walk those paths for them."
Gyan remained silent.
"Our job is to make sure those paths don't kill them."
That earned a small nod.
"Which is why I need you to watch over them."
"I already do."
"Keep doing it."
Gyan nodded.
"I'll do my best."
---
The carriage stopped.
Alaric looked out the window. The building before them was old, its stone darkened by centuries of rain and worship. Spires rose toward the sky, with bells at the top of some of them.
The same church he had passed days earlier upon arriving in Aethelberg on the way to the Privy Council.
The Sacred Orthodox Church.
Alaric stepped from the carriage and looked upward. He sighed as he didn't want anything to do with any of the religious bodies or be seen frequenting them. But it was for a good purpose so he decided to just bear with it.
Religion in Aerthos was complicated.
There were a number of sects and other churches out there, but all of them were mostly considered protestant or unorthodox. The dominant religious institution was the Sacred Orthodox Church—a single, unified body with twenty distinct orders, each dedicated to the veneration and study of one of the twenty Patron Deities.
Twenty Patron Deities.
Twenty Traits.
Twenty paths through existence.
The orders were grouped by the nature of their patron deity. The Cosmic Orders—First through Fifth—dealt with the physical world and its forces. The Cognitive Orders—Sixth through Tenth—concerned themselves with the mind and perception. The Existential Orders—Eleventh through Fifteenth—focused on the body and reality. And the Soulfire Orders—Sixteenth through Twentieth—tended to the soul and spirit.
The Church did not worship Traits. It worshipped the deities who presided over them—ancient beings whose domains shaped reality itself.
Each of the twenty orders functioned as a semi-autonomous branch, operating with its own hierarchy, rituals, and theological emphases while remaining united under the overarching authority of the Church. Members of each order were expected to embody the principles of their patron deity, and their duties often reflected that deity's nature—some orders focused on contemplation and inner wisdom, others on action and intervention, and still others on preservation and guidance.
While the orders collaborated on matters of doctrine and defense, they maintained distinct identities, often competing for influence and resources. This internal division ensured that the Church remained adaptable and multifaceted, capable of addressing the full spectrum of human experience, yet it also created fertile ground for disagreement and rivalry, as each order interpreted the will of its patron deity differently. The faithful might belong to a specific order or wander between them, seeking the spiritual path that resonated most deeply with their soul. Above all, the orders existed to serve the divine—and to ensure that the gods' influence remained woven into the fabric of mortal existence.
Alaric had always found the divisions arbitrary. The deities were not limited by their classifications. They were far more complex than the simple categories humans had imposed upon them.
But the Church was not built for the gods. It was built for the people. And people needed structure. Many conflicts throughout history had originated from religious disputes. Power always invited division. Yet the Sacred Orthodox Church had endured.
Not because its members agreed. But because they understood what happened when faith became war.
Faith was difficult to build.
Easy to break.
He stepped out of the carriage, his boots striking the stone. Gyan followed.
"The Church has already been informed of our arrival."
"Good."
"You think he'll be here?"
Alaric's expression became thoughtful.
Igor Patrovski...
"I hope he has nothing to do with this."
Gyan looked at him.
"You sound concerned."
"I am."
The Church carried tremendous influence. If Igor truly was involved in something dangerous and the Church was implicated...
"That would cause problems."
"Significant problems."
The guards at the front bowed and opened the gates. Alaric stepped into the cathedral.
Cool air greeted him.
The scent of incense drifted through vast halls.
The atmosphere carried a profound stillness.
A sacred quiet.The sort of silence that encouraged reflection.
Alaric observed worshippers kneeling in prayer. Others lit candles. Some simply sat. Thinking. Seeking answers.
He wondered briefly what Elias would think of a place like this. Probably something deeply cynical. Jamie on the other hand would be itching to look around.
The thought amused him.
'I wonder what the two of them are doing right now.'
A priest approached, interrupting his thoughts. He wore dark blue robes, a calm expression, and a respectful posture.
"My Lord."
Alaric nodded. The priest gestured.
"This way."