Here Shines the Sun (32 page)

Nuriel’s eyes scanned through the darkness of the chamber, up to Aeoria’s resting place and she felt her heart flutter. Kneeling before it was Holy Father Admael, his frail form bathed in the silver light of the artificial moon. He was dressed in his white gowns and upon his head he wore the tall mitre crown of white gold, its spires gleaming in the moonlight. He was knelt in prayer before Aeoria’s casket, and she could hear his rich voice as he spoke.

Nuriel was gripped by a ravenous hunger for his Caliber and she trembled. She approached the steps and slowly made her ascent, the six Bishops remaining behind at the entrance. She came upon the platform where the large, star-metal sarcophagus sat. It was a box, intricately carved with roses and pillars and it lay there in cold, solemn moonlight. Nuriel often wondered if the Goddess truly was within that coffin; if she were to lift its lid would she see the Goddess sleeping upon a bed of roses with her amethyst hair flowing over her robes? To Nuriel’s knowledge, the sarcophagus had never been opened since Admael had put her within to rest, many hundreds of years ago.

Nuriel placed a hand upon Holy Father’s shoulder. She suddenly wanted to collapse and melt into him. Even through his heavy robes she could feel his warmth. It was pleasing and comforting to her. His body was like the essence of a kind and caring Caliber, and Nuriel loved the way she felt within his presence. His embrace was like being wrapped in fiery wings; warm and comforting. She wanted nothing more than to stand here with him and rest her head upon his chest in quiet thought, the way she often did. “You asked to see me, Father?” spoke Nuriel as he finished his prayer.

Admael struggled to his feet, using his golden scepter as a crutch. He turned to Nuriel and his entire face, eyes and all, seemed to smile at her. He was an ancient Saint, from the final days when Aeoria walked the earth. Though his face was wrinkled, it did not sag with any great burdens. He seemed to hold a youthful light and his smile was intoxicating as he looked upon her with stunning, silver eyes beneath great, bushy silver-white eyebrows. “Nuriel, my daughter. I’m so glad you came right away.” he said, taking her hands in his.

Nuriel loved the way his hands were so soft and warm. Her fingers rubbed over them, and she could feel the bones beneath the thin skin. She peered into those molten, silver eyes of his. They were more vibrant than any other Saint’s eyes. “We haven’t spoken for so long. I… I feared you were angry with me.”

“Oh Nuriel, I could never be angry with you.”

Nuriel closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly.

“You saw the constellation appear?” asked Holy Father.

Nuriel nodded. “Everybody did. They’re saying it is a sign from the Goddess.” Holy Father’s warm features seemed to disintegrate before Nuriel, and he suddenly looked more frail, more vulnerable, to her. His eyes, which normally smiled with his lips, now seemed to frown, and his countenance was grim and sober. “What’s wrong, Father?”

“I… I hesitate to tell you, Nuriel. This is a day I never thought would come. Not… not from you…”

Nuriel felt her heart rate quicken. Her belly suddenly burned with anxiety.
Not from her?
What did that mean? Had she displeased him in some way? Had something happened? Worse, did something from her past surface; something from her brief stint in Duroton with Isley, and her work helping Celacia and Erygion? “What did I do?” her voice quivered.

Admael suddenly seemed to think better of his words and his features softened and his gaze warmed. “Nuriel, my daughter, I am sorry. I did not mean it like that.”

Nuriel felt as if weights had lifted from her shoulders. She leaned in and rested her head upon his chest and Admael hugged her in a soft embrace.
Mmm, there it was.
She closed her eyes. In her mind she saw great wings wrap her up. Her body warmed; it came right through her star-metal breastplate. She could feel his breath upon her hair as he whispered a reminder to her that all her past sins were forgiven and that he loved her no matter what. The words made her melt even as she stood and she smoothed her hand over his cheek, his ear sliding between her fingers.

“Nuriel,” he said. “I must show you something.”

“Anything,” said Nuriel, her voice a hot whisper upon his cheek. She wished he would hold her in his arms the way she saw him in the stained glass pictures throughout Sanctuary craddling the fallen Goddess. She wanted to be alone in his arms like that, with nothing but his love and warmth atop her. Her arms tightened around his body. She wanted his heat to enter her the way Ev did, so that it would consume her.

His soft hands fell upon her cheeks and she looked up at him. He forced a faint smile. “Nuriel,” he said softly. “You… you must forgive me for this. For having to show you this.”

“What is it, Father?”

His face seemed to sag into a more sober countenance. “Look upon the ceiling.”

Nuriel broke away from him as he waved a hand upon the air. Where once only the moon and a single star shown within the atrium’s ceiling, there was now a sea of white lights stretching across the entire expanse.

“These are all the stars that ever were and ever have been.” said Holy Father. “Look closely.”

Nuriel did, and the pinpoints of light began to resolve into unique shapes. At first they were fuzzy, but as they sharpened Nuriel realized that each star that shown was now a stellaglyph. Then soft, white lines began to trace out from each, creating a vast sea of vivid constellations. Some of the constellations seemed to overlap stars, such as the constellation of the fish, whose top fin shared stars in common with a great horse above it. Nuriel had seen a similar sky at the Stellarium when the Jinn lit its ceiling with stars. However, they had shown her far fewer constellations than this.

“Look there, at the constellation of the dragon.”

Nuriel looked upon it. It was one of the larger formations, with bright stars burning at its eye and heart.

“Look closely upon its claw.”

Nuriel gazed intently. Four clawed fingers of the dragon seemed to clutch at the constellation of Aeoria’s Star, and the longest of the fingers seemed to share a common star with it: the Heart of Aeoria. The Heart of Aeoria was the last star in the night sky, and it was the center of the constellation of Aeoria’s Star, but now Nuriel could see that it was also the tip of the beast’s claw. Admael waved his hand and the night sky came closer, and now Nuriel could see each of the shining stellaglyphs clearly. And her heart skipped a beat. There, at the bottom of the smallest claw, shone her own stellaglyph.

“That was your star when it still shown in the sky before you were born, Nuriel. You are part of the dragon constellation. But look, there at the long claw that shares the star of Aeoria’s Heart.”

Nuriel looked. It was not one star, but two overlapping each other. There was a faint third star behind them, but the Heart Star was actually two overlapping stars.

Admael gestured with his hand and made the two stars separate in the sky. To her astonishment, one of them was Aeoria’s symbol, the lithe, four-pointed star. But the other was Admael’s own.

“Me and Aeoria share a common place in the sky.” said Admael. “But more than that, you share the same constellation as me. We are both dragons, Nuriel. We are both part of the Dragon.”

Nuriel looked at Holy Father, her mouth agape. She knew he was telling her more than she was comprehending.

“We share a bond, Nuriel. And that is why, despite what all others said of you, I knew you would never betray me.” Admael smiled upon her, but then it melted into something of a frown. “But look now to the serpent.” Admael waved his hand and the sky moved, zooming so that the serpent constellation occupied most of the atrium’s ceiling high above. “This was the constellation that shown briefly in the sky tonight. It is a smaller constellation, consisting of only a dozen stars. But look upon its back where the two bright stars shown. What do you see?”

Nuriel gazed up at the stars that appeared as stellaglyphs. Nuriel’s hand covered her mouth. “Is… is that…”

“Yes,” said Admael, as if his heart ached in admitting it. “That is Karinael’s star. And the other is Saint Hadraniel’s. They are both serpents. Both snakes.”

Nuriel looked at Holy Father, then back at the constellation, and then back to him. “But… but what does that mean?”

“The serpent is a great deceiver.” said Admael. “It is a symbol of treachery and betrayal. A snake always sheds its skin.” Here Admael placed a warm hand upon Nuriel’s shoulder. She looked into his silver eyes. “I never thought it would come to pass.” he said softly, shaking his head. “They told me you would betray me, but I proved them wrong. But… but I was wrong about Karinael. I wanted so badly to believe she would never betray me.”

“No,” said Nuriel, hugging him close. “No. You weren’t wrong. Karinael would never betray you. She would never betray me.”

“I’m sorry I let you down.” said Admael, pulling away from her slightly, making that wonderful warmth harder to feel. “But what we witnessed tonight was indeed a sign from the Goddess. It was her way of telling us that time is now too short, and she revealed to us the names of those working against me. Nuriel, I am so sorry. I fear I have let you down.”

Nuriel’s face hardened. She looked at him. “No, Father. No, you could never let me down. It was me who let you down. I was the one who asked you to grant Karinael her Call to Guard. It was I who apprenticed her. It was I who left her with Hadraniel. Father, I… I…”

“Shh,” said Admael, taking her back into his arms.
Mmm, those warm wings; like the blankets Mother Margret warmed over hot stones and would wrap her in after a bath when she was a child.
“Let us mourn for Karinael’s soul, as well as Hadraniel’s.”

Nuriel exhaled deeply as she rested her head upon his shoulder and melted into his body. She squeezed her eyes closed and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Will she be recalled?”

“Let us not speak of such things right now, my daughter,” whispered Holy Father, patting her on her back.

Nuriel took in his warmth, even as visions of Karinael’s and Hadraniel’s betrayal played through her mind. What had they done? To what ends were they working? It would all be over soon enough, she knew. They would be recalled for their crimes. At that thought Nuriel felt anger and sadness building inside her. A tear rolled off her cheek. She felt Holy Father’s face in the crook of her neck, his warm breath tickling through her hair as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Nuriel. Please forgive me. I am in pain.”

At his words Nuriel pressed her body into his. His warmth and his love were so much but right now she wanted to give him everything she had to offer. She felt her arms tighten around him. Her hand brushed up and over his cheek. She looked up and saw her own breath as it played upon the silver hair around his ear. She kissed his cheek beneath his jaw bone. His skin was so warm and smooth. She wanted him to flow through her like Ev. She felt her belly burn and she moved her lips gently up his jawline. “Let me take your pain,” her hot breath washed over his ear; and those wings, those delightful, protecting wings of his…

The doors to the atrium swung open, the sound startling Nuriel. The Bishops who were standing sentinel before them broke away and in strode a large man, dressed head to toe in Star-Armor. His heavy boots clomped loudly upon the floor as he came up toward the steps and stopped, making a slight bow.

It was Saint Gabriel of the Watchtower, one of Aeoria’s Guard. Like all of Aeoria’s Guard, he was armored in a rare full-suit of star-metal and no bodysuit shown beneath it. His was a blocky suit, subtly sculpted so that he looked like the Watchtower for which he was named. His helmet was crested with what looked like a great eye, and beneath that a barred visor gave a glimpse of his ruby hair and eyes. Upon his back was strapped a large sword of star-metal.

The Watchtower of Saint Gabriel loomed tall amongst the other citadels of Aeoria’s Guard. It stood far beyond the gates of Sanctuary, upon the Angel’s Walk—a street of star-metal that wound its way up the side of Mount Empyrean. From there Saint Gabriel kept a constant guard and it was said that his eyes could see all things.

“Holy Father,” spoke Gabriel, his voice as commanding as his presence. In the light of the moon and stars the shiny, black eye of his helmet gleamed eerily. “I have done as you requested, but Saint Erygion the Standard Bearer is gone. His tower is empty.”

Holy Father seemed to diminish at the words and Nuriel caught him by his arm before he collapsed. “No…” his voice was sad, distressed. “Tell me, Gabriel my son; tell me he has not forsaken us.”

Saint Gabriel bent his head down. “His tower is empty, Father. All the sanguinastrums are gone.”

Holy Father slipped from Nuriel’s grasp as he fell upon the platform. “No, it cannot be. Tell me my son has not forsaken me.”

“Father,” said Nuriel, crouching beside him.

“Shall I pursue him?” asked Gabriel. “Ask it of me and I shall hunt him to the ends of the earth. I shall beat down the very gates of Apollyon’s Hell if I must.”

“No.” said Holy Father, he buried his face in his hands and shook his head. “No. Leave me. Please, just leave me.”

Saint Gabriel bowed his head. “I am ever at your call, Holy Father.” With a flap of his white cape he turned and strode out the doors.

“Father,” said Nuriel. “Please, let me help you up.” She grabbed him around the arm and he struggled to his feet.

“Leave us,” said Holy Father, waving a dismissive hand at the Bishops below.

They stood there like rigid specters.

“Leave us.” he said more loudly.

They bowed ever so slightly and seemed to slip out of the atrium like shadows from a room.

“Oh, Nuriel.” said Holy Father. “This cannot be so. Tell me this is all just fevered dreams.”

Nuriel placed her head upon his shoulder and embraced him.
Mmm.
“Father, tell me what I can do.” she whispered.

“This is all so much,” said Holy Father. “This is more than I can bear. I am lost. Oh, Nuriel, I feel you are all I have left. Can I trust no one? Have all my children forsaken me?”