Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 39

Chapter 39



“Why lie to me, Papal? After all this time, why not tell me and the Expurgators?” Elaine shook her head as she struggled to make sense of it all. There were far too many things to understand.

“You weren’t ready.” He placed a palm on her shoulder.

She pulled away from him.

“He’s right, Elaine of Lokken.” Her soft voice beckoned her attention. “You needed to find yourself, and you have.”

“The only thing I’ve found is blood and snow. There is nothing else here.” She wanted to strike Razelle, but she dare not. She felt something within the woman that implored her to leave her be.

“Listen to me. You have to calm down, Elaine. Take a deep breath, and listen to us.” Haggra handed her a cup of mead.

She ripped it from her hands and took a healthy gulp.

“Getting her drunk is going to help?” Papal asked the woman aggressively.

“It certainly won’t hurt!”

He shook his head. “Very well.”

She helped herself to another gulp of its sweet taste, and placed the cup on the table. As she was told, she drew in a deep breath and calmed her nerves. “Start from the very beginning.”

“We are not who you think.” Papal was the first to speak as he laced his fingers together.

“I can see that.”

“We are the ones gifted long ago.” Haggra added. “We are called by many names. Druids, Shamans, Rift Walkers, or Makers, but our first title was The Architects.”

“Then why do they call you The Dragon?” She stared into the burning eyes of Razelle.

She offered her a smile. “Because that is what I am, Elaine of Lokken.”

There were no such things as dragons. She was sure it was nothing more than a title. Dragons were nothing more than myths spoken to children.

“We’ve walked this earth for a very long time. Ever watching, and we struggle to maintain the balance.”

“Balance of what?”

“The dead and the living.” Razelle spoke in monotone.

“Please understand my lady, we cannot reveal ourselves to Ecclesia. We wish to help, but if we are discovered, we will do more harm than good.” Papal slid the cup from her before she could take another drink.

“Then why are you here, Papal? What good will you do?”

“We are here because we have no choice.” Haggra lowered her eyes.

“The coming of the Equinox is a very important time, Elaine of Lokken. The Architects must do what is necessary in order to maintain the balance.”

“What is it they must do?”

“The seal I gave you. Do you still have it?”

She nodded, and removed it from her pocket.

“My lady, this is more than a trinket, or artifact. This is the power that maintains the balance between the dead and the living.”

“It is Orichalcum.” Razelle added.

“What is Orichalcum?”

Haggra sighed. “In simple terms, it is life and death. It is the gathering of spiritual energy.”

Papal nodded. “It is the condensed form of spirits. Think of it as an echo of what was.”

“We each carry one.” Haggra stated, as she removed the buckle of her belt and placed it on the table.

Papal removed a disc of equal size that dangled from a necklace beneath his robes. The two discs spun on the table before slowing. Their tune rang in high melody and reverberated through the hall as they finally came to rest.

Razelle held her hand up, and her own appeared in her palm as though it had been there the entire time.

“Why is yours gold?” Elaine pointed at it.

“We’ll get to that, Elaine of Lokken.”

Haggra nodded. “What is more important, is why we have them.”

“Orichalcum is the conductor of very powerful energies. Just as they conduct, they can also repel. You must understand. Our gift is highly sought after by forces more powerful than Ecclesia.” Papal took his necklace back and hung it around his neck.

“Indeed.” Haggra replaced hers on her belt. “With these, we are able to keep those forces at bay. It is the only reason we’ve survived as long as we have.”

“And what is your gift?”

They each shared looks. “We carry the final spark of powers that man once held.” Papal said.

“You would call it sorcery or witchcraft. It is more than that. What we share, is the ability of our creators.” Haggra handed the seal back to her.

“But nowhere near as equal.” Papal added.

“We also have one other gift.”

“We are the harvesters of the spirits.”

“That is a rather crude title.” Haggra’s brow creased as she stared at Papal.

“How would you like me to describe it?”

She shook her head. “We are the ones that travel between the worlds. The forces that keep them separate from one another are powered by Orichalcum.
We don’t harvest, we merely maintain.”

“As is our purpose.” Papal added.

“Dammit, would you just speak like normal people, and set aside preaching?” She slammed her hands into the table. She was tired of riddles and half-truths.

Papal sighed. “We collect the Orichalcum that forms in heaven and hell to fuel the great engines.”

Finally the truth. She remembered the prophecy of the engines, she read it to Valimaar that day after the first attack. Though she knew not what they were, or what they did, she at least knew what powered them.

“We do it in order to hold the worlds at bay. The engines were built for that purpose a millennium ago.” Haggra took the cup, and helped herself to a gulp of the mead.

“And we are the ones that built them.” Papal added.

“Why?”

“To keep the worlds separate from one another.” Haggra took another sip and wiped her lips. “Men of old had vast power. When they rose against their creators, they took their powers from them.”

Papal nodded. “We were the only ones that retained the gift, but it was weakened. We were those that stood against the Scarlet Ones with the Daemons. Odynn charged us with the construction in order to protect not only the realms of the dead, but the men of the earth.”

“Protect the men from what?”

“Themselves.” Razelle’s head hung low. “Humans are ever a self-destructive force, but Odynn loved them as though they were his children. He could not bear to destroy them so he shut them away from heaven and hell and allowed them to rule as they pleased.”

Haggra nodded. “What he did not know, was Annwvyn harvested the same spirits that heaven and hell did.”

“Annwvyn is real?”

Razelle nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“That means –“

“Tyr is real as well. Ragnarok, and the Apocalypse are one in the same.” Papal slid the cup across the table and motioned for her to drink. He waited until she was finished. “My lady, Tyr’s creation threatens this earth.”

“It threatens everything.” Razelle added.

“How?”

“The world is a wonderful creation. We are its inhabitants just like every bird, beast and tree.” Haggra stood from her seat. “The scriptures of Ecclesia speak of a life after death. That is false.”

“At least in the sense that they say.” Papal interjected.

Haggra nodded. “There is a life after death as there always will be. When a beast dies, the soil grows rich from its flesh. Grass and trees grow and create new life. Before they die, their seeds carry on the wind to continue life. Just as humans die, their spirits return to create new life. That is what the engines of Arlia do.” She traced a circle with her hand. “It is the cycle of life. Spirits die, and go to heaven or hell, and are then sent back to live anew.”

“Without the cycle of life, the world would die. There would be no purpose for heaven or hell. They too, would collapse.” Papal said in monotone.

“Why does Annwvyn threaten this?”

Papal bowed his head. “Spirits do not return from Annwvyn.”

“Where do they go?”

Razelle’s eyes ignited like torches. “They are refined.”

“To what?”

“Orichalcum.”

“I thought you said it forms in heaven and hell.” She drank the last sip of the mead.

“That is where it forms naturally.” Razelle waved her hand, and the cup was full once more. “There are two other engines.”

Haggra was the first to drink the mead. “They are an abomination. They beckon the spirits of the dead, and steal the life cycle. Once they pass into Annwvyn, the engine within refines them into Orichalcum. Tyr is amassing a great power with it. If Annwvyn is ever released into the world, he will hold absolute power over everything, Gods, Daemons, and Humans alike.”

“That is why I have come.” Razelle’s torch eyes faded. “Architects, Ecclesia seeks the Orichalcum. They have claimed that they can return Asgard from the void.”

Haggra shook her head. “That can only mean one thing.”

“The Ninth Son has returned.” Papal wiped a tear from his cheek. “I tried to stop him, but I dare not reveal myself.”

“Who is it?” Haggra’s voice rose to panic.

“The Arbiter… The Scarlet Ones have found a way to break him free of the box. I don’t know how. I escaped Ecclesia before I could find out. They discovered me.”

“I do hope you’re kidding, Baldr.” Razelle’s flesh smoked as though it were on fire.

Papal shook his head. “What matters is they do not know where I am.”

“But they know who you are.” Haggra stated.

“What of Jotunheim, and the book?” Papal lifted his gaze.

“The Jarl knows of it. He is sending the Ymirjar to find it.” Razelle turned around, and the wood of the building began to crackle and spark. “If I were not bound to oath by Odynn I would kill him myself.”

Haggra nodded. “Then we have only one choice.”

“I’m afraid so.” Razelle spun back around, and the building quenched itself. “We have to call the Jormungandr.”

“Why do we not stop him?” She couldn’t understand it. He was not but a man.

“If we do, another will finish what he started, it will continue until either the book is found, or the Prodigal Son reveals himself.” Haggra said.

Razelle nodded. “The Jormungandr is the only way.”

“I hope I’m forgiven for this.” Papal drank the entire contents of the cup in one gulp and slammed it on the table.

“As do I.” Haggra added.

“What is the Jormungandr?”

Papal sighed. “The devourer of souls. I dare not say more.”

Haggra placed a palm on her shoulder. “We are sorry it came to this, Elaine, but things are in motion that cannot be undone. It is time you faced yourself once more.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a reason that Baldr gave you that seal. You are not the Vicar Forane.” She drew in a heavy breath as tears rolled down her cheeks. “You are Sif, the first Architect, and I am your sister, Alessia.”

***************

Elaine sat at the table in the cabin in a particularly uncomfortable position. She didn’t care. It couldn’t make her mood any worse. After everything they told her, it was hard enough to not scream. She didn’t know what to make of it. Whether it was true or not, there were too many lies around her for it to matter. Papal was sure enough not who she thought he was. Haggra and Razelle seemed to have known him for longer than she had. Still, it didn’t make sense to not tell her. She was tired of being lied to all the time, for she wasn’t a child.

The Ecclesiarchy, though a terrible device of man’s influence, had taught her valuable lessons. Though they lied to her as well, she took pride in her strength of spirit, and her ability to forgive. They had taken that away from her. She wasn’t a priest anymore, or even one who showed much compassion. She was something else now. War had reshaped her into something dark.

Though it was entirely out of necessity, Elaine did not wish to kill anyone. Now, she felt as though she would kill anything, for any reason that she saw fit. Perhaps it was simply anger, but she’d been angry before and never felt like this. This was different. This wasn’t anger, this was abandon. The three that told her of what and who she was, certainly helped her get to this present state. After all, they kept it from her, which she struggled to understand.
Find herself? What in all of creation did that mean? She knew who she was, or at least, she thought she knew. Now, even that was different.

“You know, brooding will not change anything, Sif.” Razelle’s voice spoke like feathers, but deep within, she felt the shards of glass.

“Don’t call me Sif.”

“I am sorry, but that is who you are.” She walked round the table and stood over her. The Dragon still offered her the same smile she had earlier. “You are one of them, but more. You are the first Architect.”

Elaine slammed her fist on the table. “You told me that already!”

“Then why brood over it? What is it going to solve?”

She shook her head. “I’m just tired of being lied to.”

Razelle pulled a chair away from the table and sat. “There was no other way, Sif. Architects share trust with no one but themselves. They could not tell you until they knew for sure that you are who you are. They needed to give you time for you to realize it too.”

“I don’t realize anything.”

“Who were you before you came here?”

“Elaine, former Vicar Forane. Cleric of Lokken, and the keeper of the book.” She could think of no other titles. Though she wasn’t necessarily the keeper of it, Father Gordon had left it in her care.

“You can still be that person.” Razelle placed her palm on her hand, and as she touched it, she felt warm sparks ignite within her. “But that is not who you really are. You may continue to be Elaine of Lokken, but the world doesn’t need a priest, it needs an Architect.”

“Then let those two handle it! What help am I going to be? I don’t even know what an Architect is.”

She shook her head. “Sif, I’ve known you for as long as this earth has seen the spark of life. You’ve always been stubborn, but in the end, you manage to see your way through. Things happened for a reason, Sif. Everything that brought you here, has a purpose. There are no accidents.”

Elaine had heard the expression before. It was a bishop that told her there are no accidents.

“Listen to me, Sif. You can keep brooding over the fact you’re more than you know, or you can come and finish what you’ve started.” Razelle stood. “Even if we prevent Ecclesia from bringing Annwvyn back from the void, does not mean it’s over. The world still needs steel, just as it needs Architects. Ecclesia will continue to do as they do, and the world will fall to them, unless we stop them.”

That much was at least right. She knew that Ecclesia would not stop until it was over. Whatever their focus was, she’d seen their damage, and she knew that eventually, Lokken and Xalimfal would see it as well. The world needed steel and it always would need it. Though some used it for purposes that harmed life, there were those that still wished to defend it. She was one of them.

Elaine nodded. “Very well, but no more lies. I will help you in every way that I can, but I don’t know why you have so much faith in me. I have no idea how any of this works.”

Razelle smiled. “You will learn. If there were any other way, we would not make you do this. I did all I could, Sif. Now, it rests on the Architects.”

“What do you mean you did all you could? What did you do?”

“I learned as much as I could from the Jarl. Despite what he thinks, I am very much his enemy.”

“Then why didn’t you kill him?”

Razelle shook her head. “I’m afraid I cannot kill an Aesir. Dragons were bound by their creators, and we cannot harm one of our kin. You however, may change the course that Xalimfal is on.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are prophecies that speak of you, just as there are prophecies that speak of what is to come. The Architects have been waiting for this moment for as long as Annwvyn has pulled life from this world.”

“What prophecies?”

“The ones in your book.”

“How do you know they speak of me?”

Razelle smiled. “I’m the one that wrote it.”