Sapharan High City, capital of Lanostre
The city of Sapharan was still in chaos as the returning inquisitors and the surviving conscripts stepped out of the Skyway lift. The streets were filled with squadrons of Varyan soldiers and native Lanostrans alike, the two groups of people momentarily united in the face of the morning's mysterious attack. Beyond the city walls, massive plumes of azure-colored ethereal exhaust stretched skyward from the battlefield below. Even from the apex of the mountain, the aftermath of the destruction could still be seen.
During their ascent the inquisitors had received a quick debriefing from the Varyan garrison's headquarters. The true identity of the attacking fleet was still unknown, but the Silver Fleet, as they were now known, had decimated an entire blockade of Varyan warships. No Varyan had survived the assault. Strangely, the native Lanostran ships had been seemingly spared from their wrath. General Thanassis and Admiral Phaedros were now being held at the palace for questioning.
Elisheva tried desperately to focus. In the course of one morning, the empire had changed. In twenty years no such attack had ever occured against the Varyan empire. No one had the power, nor the will to carry out such an attack. Who was behind it?
Father Dara...No. The young man had never demonstrated any ability beyond his ethereal magic at the Seminary. He was an unspeaking simpleton who could barely read or write, if the rumours were believed. If not for Mother Indira he would never have survived the Seminary. The Man in Black claimed to be his protector... But why? What was so important about Father Dara? And why would he be at the command of an enemy flotilla who's sole mission was to destroy the Varyan fleet in Lanostre?
She stared at the three Phoenix inquisitors as the group made their way to the palace. The high clerics had insisted on Phoenix Warband coming in to report the events at the Glacier. What would they say? The attack seemed to be tied in some way to Mother Tatiana. Would they devulge all that the Man in Black had said to them? It was their duty to answer to the high clerics that now ruled over their homeland, but she would not fault them for keeping the information to themselves. After all, a warband was family. And right now, Mother Tatiana's ties to Father Dara would place her firmly under the clerical branch's suspicion. She might even be imprisoned and held on charges of treason. Would Father Galahad and Mother Tatiana allow such a thing to come to pass?
The three inquisitors were quiet as they walked, their silence at odds with the storm of activity around them. Cillian proceeded at their side, his golden eyes watching over Mother Tatiana like a hawk.
Elisheva stopped walking and placed a firm hand on Cillian's shoulder.
"You three continue to the palace. Father Cillian and I must look after the conscripts," she said, her voice clear over the raucous noise of countless soldiers marching down the road.
"But, Mother Elisheva, the council requires our report as well--"
"That can wait," Elisheva spoke, her mismatched eyes meeting Galahad's gaze.
She nodded at them and turned around and proceeded back to where the conscripts were waiting. Cillian remained, his eyes narrowing at the three Phoenix inquisitors before he turned and followed suit.
Elisheva made her way down the road, turning a corner. When Cillian followed, she pushed him hard against a wall, her gauntlet-clad hand pressing down on his chest, holding him in place.
"You will corroborate whatever they say to the high clerics."
Cillian's mouth was a hard line. His golden eyes shone bright in the afternoon sun.
"An inquisitor must speak the truth."
"That he does."
Elisheva leaned in close and her armored fist moved down to his abdomen. To the wound.
She pressed into it. Gently at first, but then harder. Cillian gritted his teeth.
"Who knows if those military surgeons could have repaired the damage. Mother Astraea might have very well saved your life. You owe her. That means you are indebted to Mother Tatiana as well."
Cillian sucked in air through his nostrils, trying to steel himself against the pain.
"Mother Tatiana might hold the key to the attack. You would ask me to lie on her behalf? To relay false information to a council of high clerics? You are no servant of Lord Varya."
Elisheva's eye flared a brilliant crimson. She twisted her fist into his stomach.
"Lord Varya has no truer servants that those who's oaths were sworn from His own blood," Her eyes peered down at the scarlet inquisitor's circle adorning Cillian's plate. "We of the inquisition might serve in different warbands but each and every one of us are united in purpose and in power. We have been brought together and given His strength to wield in unison. Not like
them," she spat, gesturing to the palace.
"They are a hive of starving rats. Too busy eating each other when they should be carrying out Lord Varya's will."
"... The clerics are at the head of the inquisition. We can't--"
"You are young and have much to learn, Father Cillian, thus, consider this your most important lesson. You are a Protector. You must protect your own."
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