Part XIV
“What are they waiting for? What are they doing?”
Stephen whispered the question numerous times over the hour they eight had observed the Archbishop from the barn, no more than thirty yards away from the twenty men and women whom stood wait in the square. None had bothered replying, for they themselves knew not the answer. The Archbishop and his men had traveled nearly two hours, under the cover of darkness and secrecy, to seemingly stand in the middle of an abandoned village.
The Bishop turned to look upon Xtopherus, the cowled Tender whom was crouched at his side.
“I don’t see where this is going. Standing in the middle of nowhere doesn’t prove anything, Xtopherus.”
The Tender sneered beneath his hood, clicking his tongue. He then rose one long, pale finger, pointing towards the northern tree line that sat behind the Archbishop and his men.
The Bishop returned his attention to the scene. At first, he saw nothing. However after a few moments, his eyes adjusted to a faint red light emanating deep within the shadowy wood. Soon after, another. It was only after another long few minutes that he had realized the lights for what they were; eyes. Glowing, red eyes.
The others had taken notice. Soon after, the eyes became brighter, drawing closer. And soon enough, the body that they belonged to.
The Archbishop’s men took notice at last. From the wood emerged a peculiar figure, resembling that of a man. As it stepped into the light of the roaring fire blazing near the Archbishop and his men. The figure moved with a peculiar walk, its hands drawn close to its chest. Its skin was a deep crimson, and it had no hair upon its head or face. Its features were horribly distorted, that of a man subjected to years of torture, and its eyes burned with an unholy red glow.
Xtopherus spoke but one word.
“Cambion.”
As if on cue, the creature howled a horrid roar, startling many of the Archbisop’s men. It approached them slowly, snorting every so often. As it came closer, it finally brought its hands down from its chest, and it was then that all could see the collection of horrid talons and claws that protruded forth from its mangled hands.
“Wh..what is it!?”
Stephen spoke up in a hushed whisper, nervousness obvious in his young voice. Xtopherus turned to the Templar in scorn.
“A daemon, human half-breed; the Resolve’s foot soldiers. And unless you’d like to introduce yourself to it, I’d suggest keeping quiet.”
The cambion came to a final stop before the Archbishop, looking him over with it’s fiery red eyes. It grunted several times before relaxing its posture. For a moment, it simply stood there, staring at the Archbishop. When the hooded figure behind the Archbishop materialized, however, it became obvious that it was he whom the cambion had been looking upon.
The hooded figure giggled to himself, rubbing two gloved hands together. The colors he donned were unmistakable; it had been a Resolvist.
“Ah, never mind him, my old friend Karl. He’s had a long few days, and his manners are somewhat lacking. He’s nearing the end of his lifecycle as well, and that can lead to a certain…irritableness in them.”
The hooded cultist spoke, his tone jovial and humorous. It struck fear into the hearts of all eight huddled in the barn that evening.
“Straight to business tonight, my -Lord-, straight to business. I’ve not a second to waste, no no. Although I’d love to stay and chat, the Others are expecting me home for dinner, so to say.”
The Archbishop smiled, nodding.
“Very good, Number Seven. We’ve the specimen over here.”
The Resolvist clapped, laughing to himself, and followed the Archbishop towards the crate that had been unloaded from the wagon. Passing the collection of robed Garden magi on the way, the Resolvist looked upon them with animated excitement.
“And these are the fine fellows accompanying back home, yes?”
The Archbishop chuckled, sending a flurry of rage through Bishop Landcaster.
“Yes, as requested. They are quite handy with the cantrips you’ve given us, and have been infused with all the knowledge and cannon the Church has to offer any aspirant Templar.”
The Resolvist laughed hysterically, and began to skip alongside the Archbishop. His joy could hardly be contained.
“How glorious! How wonderful! Mmmhmmm!”
Finally, the two had approached the rather large cage. None from the barn could truly make out what had been inside it, yet whatever it was, it was certainly large. From the rear, the Resolvist’s cambion tagged along. All three figures stood aside the cage, peering within.
“This batch came out rather nicely, and without any knowledge of their previous services to the Republic. Significantly stronger than the others as well. I believe we’ve truly mastered their creation process.”
The Resolvist peered inside the cage, looking upon the unseen contents. He nodded a few times, then opened a hand.
“The key, the key, oh yes, the key…”
The Archbishop chortled, reaching into the folds of his white robe, producing a shining copper key. He held it out to the Resolvist, but then at the last second, pulled it back. He smiled thinly, and then spoke.
“Our arrangement, first. Is it taken care of? Will my faithful be indoctrinated with full rights and privileges as I will be?”
The Resolvist chuckled, yet his tone had lost the sense of playfulness it once had.
“Yes, Archbishop. The Others are awaiting you and your…friends…arrival. Yet the other Bishops will be under your own tutelage, and hence, your responsibility. We’ve not the time to train another to your level of mastery.”
From within the barn, a low growl emerged, coming from the Templar Alexandrov. Jacoba Onoria spoke up, his words in a hushed rage.
“Other Bishops? His whole College is in league with this!?”
Landcaster sneered, the truth settling in. Most if not all of the Archbishop’s co-conspirators had been in on the treachery, selling themselves to the Resolve. But what could they possibly have so valuable that the Resolve had been willing to strike a deal with them?
Their questions were soon answered. The Archbishop nodded, and then unlocked the door to the cage. From within emerged a hulking, brutish figure, a humanoid creature standing a good seven feet tall. Its skin was tinted a sickly green, and even from where the eight lay hidden, they could make out large and misshapen veins lining the surface of its skin. The brutish thing stood at a tension, looking upon the Resolvist and the Archbishop with dead, black eyes.
“The finest the Republic has to offer. Just as powerful as your half-breed pet there, but without any of the shortcomings. More intelligence, more deadly, and won’t succumb to insanity after a few months of service.”
The Resolvist looked upon the creature in awe, while the cambion growled in anger. The creature simply stood in silence.
“Does it have a name?”
The Archbishop grinned.
“We’ve come to call them the Vicissitudo. It’s a Principatus term that seems to fit them nicely. Care for a demonstration?”
The Resolvist bowed before the Archbishop, taking a step back. The Archbishop looked up to the massive creature, smiling widely. Pointing at the cambion, the Archbishop spoke a mere two words.
“Destroy it.”
Without hesitation, the lumbering creature lunged for the cambion, nearly toppling the Archbishop over. Before the cambion could react, the creature had seized it in one of its overly large hands, and began pummeling it with the other. In mere moments, the cambion had been nothing but a bloody mess of ruined flesh and gore.
The Resolvist appluaded.
“Yes, yes! Quite well done! How lovely, indeed! It seems you’ll be earning the title of the Fourteenth this evening, after all!”
With appalled silence, the eight souls within the barn that evening looked upon each other with horror.
He watched as the Archsbishop stood in silent regard, looking upon the thirteen robed magi with quiet approval. From the abandoned farmhouse, he and his seven companions observed the night’s events. After the Anslem’s men had tied down the horses and secured the caravan’s wagons, they struck up a large and healthy fire, and then assembled in what had once been the village’s town square. Here, they waited in silence, the Archbishop inspecting each of the thirteen robed Garden magi.