Epilogue((Collab post between ArenaSnow and Letter Bee))
The Girayid Network on the island had been purged, and Ioannes had been given most of the credit, credit that, once Giray itself had redeemed its image on the Island by rescuing it from the fleet of demons that were preparing to attack, he can use in order to negotiate a reconcilliation and alliance, an alliance that can be leveraged to start his campaign against the Slave System, a campaign that would start with gaining the allegiance of the Religious
Millets, who would gravitate to those who fought demons.
However, the authority of the Five Priesthoods of Giray would not be enough; what was needed was the backing of what backed the Priesthoods themselves; aka the Gods/God/Angels/Whatever. And so Ioannes was busy in Waldenshore's main temple, studying; it was good that Priestess Allura had not known of his true allegiances.
Engrossed in the Temple's library, sitting before a desk, he would not notice any visitors...
The temple was quiet, filled only with the quiet cracking of candle flame. A shifting of the air behind Ioannes went only undetected by the depth of his studies.
However, his concentration was broken by the sound of a solid object meeting temple stone behind him; not a loud noise, but one that echoed in the chamber.
Ioannes turned around, drawing his Pistol at the source of the voice. Was it a demon, or perhaps a human opponent?
Sitting in a chair a few feet behind him, a chair that to Ioannes's memory wasn't there before, was what appeared to be a tall man in grey, flowing robes. His face was covered in hair, with a beard going down to his lower neck, and with sharp but friendly eyes bluer than the sea. The most distinct part of his appearance, however, was the 6 foot spear standing upright in his hand beside the chair. The spear was covered in runes of every shape and many faded colors from bottom to speartip, and appeared as though it was made out of solid iron or a similar substance.
The man gave a half smile and said, "I suppose it is rude to appear behind someone. I apologise." He didn't seem to be a demon... but he did radiate something that wasn't human, either. He showed no indication of fear at having a pistol aimed at his chest.
"Who are you?" asked Ioannes. "You're not a demon, but are you a Mage? Or...something else entirely? I can tell, though, that you must be immensely powerful, while that spear...that spear's runes come from multiple liturgical languages from different faiths."
"Ah, yes... Kan Thanon. The Spear of Ages. It has kept up with the ages, indeed... better than I have..."
The man seemed to wander mentally, looking a little off to the side before refocusing his attention to Ioannes.
"I can assure you that I am no mage. I come from... ah, this is the difficult thing to explain. I suppose the proper phrase here is 'another place entirely'. I've come for a few select reasons, and you are one of them." he stated, as though that would make perfect sense by itself.
Ioannes withdrew his gun, turned his chair around to face the old man, then, with a relaxed expression, spoke:
"Are you an Angel, then?" If so, this opened up a new level of possibilities...as well as new perils; the Divine and the Infernal both asked high prices, the difference is that the former offered an equivalent compensation.
"Does this have to do with the crisis on the Island?" was his next question.
The man smiled.
"You have guessed correctly on both counts." He leaned back more, and put the spear over his lap.
"Although as for the second, the crisis is a little more... far reaching than it appears."
"My name is Aldur, and I am here to aid you and in the process restore the world to at least some degree of balance."
Ioannes nodded.
"And I am ready to help." Eye contact, a stare. "I am not so crass as to ask you for anything, but there is a burden on my heart that I bear." A sigh, and Ioannes's shoulders slumped down. "You know of Giray, right? The nation that takes with one hand and gives with the other? The nation whose people live in peace because of the cries and conditioning of enslaved children."
That last part was a statement, not a question.
"As I said, I am always willing to help, but...it would also give me peace of mind if this weight on my soul is lifted."
The man, or more appropriately angel, gave a small frown at the description.
"Yes... I know of them. I assume you wish me to involve myself in the affairs of that nation?" He cocked his head slightly, but gave no other indications of his attitude towards his question/statement.
"Not in the way you are thinking," the Mamluk said. "No direct interference is needed, merely...merely a mark of Divine Backing, one that gives me the mark of legitimacy in the eyes of the Five Religious
Millets. That alone would be enough for me to accomplish my goals."
"I see." The angel pulled at his beard thoughtfully. "Hmm..." He spent half a minute in that same pose before seeming to come to a decision.
"The Millets aknowledge the third split of the Order... so I suppose it is a mark directly from that order that would show support." He began to form a very intricate, hand sized rune on his left hand in bright gold color.
"You may have this mark, but there is one small condition. You can spend some twenty or so years helping take down what I agree to be at the least a heavily misguided society. However, once those twenty or so years roll around, there will be a new rising that will at first appear to be a mere small demonic incursion... but that will in reality be set in motion by beings of a very high ken. I ask that you prepare yourself to battle evil again... and be prepared to return a small favor when the time comes."
"I say yes," Ioannes said firmly, offering his forehead to receive the mark. "I will make any sacrifice, as long as what is sacrificed is my own and no one else's, if it will help the
Millets of Giray."
"Then it is done."
The angel slowly stood, spear in one hand and rune in the other.
He walked over to Ioannes, and pressed his hand on the Mamluk's forehead. Although there was a slight sizzling noise, Ioannes would feel no pain. Drawing his hand away to observe his handiwork, the angel gave a short nod. "Go now with this mark, Ioannes, and good luck on your journey. We will see each other again someday."
The angel began walking out, the doors to the temple opening of their own accord. He lifted his head to a grey sky, and with a flash was gone.
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