Crimson and Gold

The day after Oppia left the Palace, the staff quarters were buzzing with rumors about how the unruly servant dared to steal a prized, silken pallium belonging to the Emperor, for which she was beaten and cast out.

It was, of course, a cover-up story that Lysandra and Dolores crafted to avoid suspicions.

They had agreed long ago that these rumors were far less dangerous than having every single victim of such harassment suddenly disappear without a word. If it happened frequently enough, it would be only a matter of time before the Emperor himself started investigating.

On the other hand, the servants looking for ways to earn some extra money, even if it meant theft, wasn’t anything new. Nobody was willing to bother with such trivial matters.

Despite the problems only multiplying ever since they returned to the Palace, neither Lysandra nor Saria had forgotten about the agreement they made back in ‘Charybdis’.

Having solved the issue with Oppia, shortly after breakfast, they boarded the Royal carriage and headed directly to Nivelis.

“You came back so late last night. Did everything go well with Oppia?” Lysandra asked when they left the Palace grounds.

Saria was unusually quiet, seemingly absorbed in whatever view was currently outside the window. When she heard Lysandra’s voice, she blinked a few times before she snapped back to reality. “Yes. Mira took care of her, there were no issues at all,” she replied.

“Then why did you come back so late?” the Princess pressed.

Saria knew Lysandra wouldn’t approve of her recent extracurricular activity, considering it a waste of time. She also didn’t want her to worry for nothing.

“I had to take care of something,” she said. She took the Princess’ hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm. “It’s nothing dangerous, I promise.”

Lysandra’s heart immediately softened.

She still had some doubts—not that Saria was acting against her, but she was worried her lover was pushing herself too much—but she didn’t feel the need to press anymore. “I trust you,” she said, responding with her own kiss.

After that, the mood in the carriage was very harmonious. Saria caressed Lysandra’s hand with her thumb while lost in thought, while the Princess used this moment to read a few more pages of ‘The Great Alchemical Grimoire’.

“Did you… Ever thought about becoming the Empress?” Saria asked suddenly.

Lysandra looked at her, surprised. “That came out of nowhere,” she giggled.

Saria scratched her cheek awkwardly. “I’ve heard some people say that the Senate wants to see you as Octavius’ successor.”

The Princess sighed heavily and cast her gaze outside the carriage window. “They don’t want me to be their Empress, they want me to be their pawn,” she said without taking her eyes off the passing trees.

After a moment, she turned her head back to look at Saria. “I have no desire for the throne. My brother can have it for all I care. The only thing I want is to spend my life with you. Even better if it’s just the two of us. Away from everything, from all this mess.”

“I think you would make an excellent Empress,” Saria said.

“A good ruler should be able to give up what’s dearest to them to save the country.” Lysandra cupped her lover’s face and looked her deeply in the eye. “I wouldn’t. I would sacrifice the whole world just to keep you safe.”

In the shimmering golden irises, Saria saw her own reflection. It was clear, vibrant, and it filled Lysandra’s eyes entirely.

How many would feel overwhelmed or even intimidated by such devotion?

To be on the receiving end of love so strong, it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t enough to just ‘be oneself’.

No.

Love like this required effort. It required sacrifice. It required being the best version of oneself to push oneself to the limits.

Love like this had to be answered with the same fervor.

Without this balance, it threatened to overflow and consume everyone and everything around.

Many wouldn’t want to take on this risk. Saria, however, wasn’t one of them.

Lysandra’s devotion soothed her own madness, pulling her from the darkness into the light.

The only direction she could run was always towards the Princess.

***

Lysandra and Saria slowly climbed the stairs leading to the Nivelian temple, where, as usual, Asteria was already waiting for them.

“It’s been a while since you visited the Temple together. Our Lady is happy to see you, Your Highness,” she greeted them.

The Princess smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited sooner. There was a lot going on lately.”

“The Goddess understands,” the Oracle assured. “She’s just glad to see you in good health.”

She then turned her blindfolded eyes to Saria. “And you too. Our Lady was looking forward to your visit.”

“So she knows why we’re here today?” It was less than a question and more of a mere observation coming from Saria.

Having been a frequent visitor at the Temple, she had already gotten used to Asteria knowing things before they were said.

The Oracle nodded, making the beads of her tiara chime. “Everything is ready. Follow me.”

Asteria led them to one of the smaller chambers at the back of the Temple.

Saria guessed it must have been designated for administrative work, as it was filled with rows of bookcases and scroll racks. At the center was a long, heavy table with chairs.

They were told to sit down, while Asteria disappeared from sight among the bookshelves. She emerged a little while later, holding a thick, yellowed scroll.

Just for a second, a thought crossed Saria’s mind.

How was she even able to find that without being able to see?

She never voiced her confusion, obviously. However, to her surprise, the Oracle paused setting up the documents and smiled at her.

“We aren’t actually blind, you know,” Asteria said, clearly amused. “We simply use our spiritual sight to see things invisible to the naked eye.”

Saria felt a cold shiver running down her spine. “Does it allow you to read minds, too?”

“No,” the Oracle said. “But it does help us notice when someone is staring at us like a lost lamb at a fair.”

Sitting next to her, Lysandra saw how her lover’s face quickly turned pale, then glowing red in the next second, and couldn’t hold back from laughing.

Saria, on the other hand, exhaled a quiet ‘oh’ and cast her eyes down, awkwardly scratching her cheek.

Fortunately, the rest of the procedure of officially becoming a follower of Astesis went smoothly. The process was also a lot more pragmatic than Saria anticipated.

There was no ritual, no sacrifice, or elaborate initiation.

Instead, Asteria simply wrote down Saria’s name and the city of birth—Aervelis, due to the real place being unknown—on the scroll and asked her to place a fingerprint next to it.

“From now on, you are one of the students under our Lady Astesis’ care. Your successes are her successes and your failures are her failures. Live your life with empathy and virtue, and once the time comes, your soul will be welcomed in the Elysian Fields.” Asteria announced, completing the process.

Saria rubbed her neck, looking down at her name written on the scroll. The ink was still wet, and the fingerprint she left looked a bit crude next to Asteria’s neat and elegant handwriting. Nevertheless, none of it seemed out of place.

It was a rather unique feeling that Saria had in that moment. She felt a sense of belonging, as if her name was meant to be written on that scroll. It felt right.

She was never a spiritual person. Growing up in an assassin sect, faith was something she looked down upon for most of her life. Anyone subjected to so much darkness would have a hard time believing.

In that moment, however, Saria wondered if this was how it felt to hear a calling from the Divine and answer it.

Asteria noticed her hesitation. “Are you disappointed?”

“No. Not at all,” Saria quickly explained. “I’m just surprised the whole process was so… mundane.”

“This was just the formal part,” Lysandra told her. “The proper ceremony is usually held during the Spring Equinox, Summer Solstice, Fall Equinox, and Winter Solstice, and everyone who joined in the meantime can participate.”

“It would be quite troublesome to arrange the ceremony for every new follower separately,” Asteria added.

“Do—Do I have to participate?” Saria asked, troubled.

The Summer Solstice had already passed, which meant that the next opportunity would be the Fall Equinox. It was still months away, but it still made her feel slightly overwhelmed.

Lysandra smiled softly, taking her lover’s hand. “Only if you want to.”

“What’s most important to the Gods is that you carry yourself in accordance with their ideals. The ceremonies and the rituals were designed mostly for us—the mortals—to help us connect with our deities.”

The Oracle’s words finally allowed Saria to relax. “I’ll work hard not to disappoint the Goddess,” she declared, feeling relieved and even a little excited. “If that’s all, then we should move to the next reason for our visit?”

Unexpectedly, Asteria refused. “Not yet. There’s one more thing left.”

Saria looked at her, puzzled. Then turned to Lysandra in search of answers, but the Princess was equally confused.

The answer that came from the Oracle, neither of them expected.

“My Lady wants to talk to you. In person.”

***

The mortal realm and the afterlife existed on two disconnected planes, separated by the timeless expanse of the Void.

Only upon death, after shedding the physical form, would the mortal be able to make the journey through that Void and enter the realm of the Gods. As long as their souls were claimed and as long as they had not been tainted by the Darkness, the eternal rest awaited them.

The journey across the Nothingness wasn’t easy.

For the soul to reach its destination, it needed a guide. Each pantheon had a different approach.

The Shapeshifting Goddess of Faolán personally escorted each and every one of her followers to the Land of Promise.

The Elven Masters of Aelius relied on their Lighthouse to guide the souls towards the Elysian Fields.

The Shahrezi Lords of Āsmānar had their trusted Turtles to deliver their mortals to the Divine City of Bakharam.

Other pantheons were no less creative either. Each put a great amount of importance on this part of the soul’s journey.

The difficulty of crossing the Void was so immense that even the Gods rarely traveled between the realms. Aside from the Shapeshifting Goddess, most other deities relied on Oracles, priestesses, or dreams to reach out to their mortals.

That being said, there were moments when the Divine had a need to speak with a chosen mortal face-to-face.

In those instances, the answer was in water.

The Primordial Element of Water—from which all water in the world originated—was one of the strongest mediums between the realms. It was not only possible to temporarily send the soul across the planes, but in special circumstances even peer into the web of time itself.

Because of this, every temple around the world had one thing in common. They were all built on top of, or in proximity to, bodies of water.

The Temple of Astesis in Nivelis was no different.

Beneath its alabaster walls was a small, underground lake, supplied by the local stream. The cavern it occupied was left mostly untouched, keeping it in its natural state, save for mysterious paintings decorating the walls.

A radiant sphere floating in the air by the ceiling was the only light source, yet it shone brightly enough to bathe the whole cavern in a warm golden light.

Even Saria was in awe seeing it for the first time.

She walked down the stairway carved in stone, holding Lysandra’s hand and admiring the sight.

“I had no idea something like this was under the Temple,” the Princess said, equally stunned as her lover.

“Not many people do,” Asteria said, while walking ahead of them. “Even among the priestesses, there are many whose rank isn’t high enough to know this secret.”

Hearing a rare instance of emotion in the Oracle’s voice, and pride nonetheless, Saria couldn’t help but tease.

“Is this your way of flaunting your status, Asteria?” she jested.

Unexpectedly, the Oracle glanced at her over her shoulder, wearing a playful smile. “Maybe a little,” she mused.

In that instant, Saria’s image of Asteria warmed up significantly.

They were familiar with one another for some time already, but there was hardly anything she knew about the woman. Despite her young appearance, she was already over a hundred years old, as she told Saria once, and that was all she ever shared about her personal life.

Seeing someone who had lived for a century display such simple, human emotions made them much more approachable. And even a bit relatable.

After reaching the foot of the stairway, Asteria headed straight to the stone altar at the shore.

There, she quickly ground a variety of herbs in a mortar and moved them to a wooden bowl.

Even though she moved so fast, Lysandra still managed to take note of every plant she saw.

Leyfa stalk for calmness of the mind.

Ephessia flower for muscle relaxation and anesthesia.

Bearmint root for sleep.

And one more plant, that she knew very well.

The spiritbane berries—the most poisonous fruit of the Igmerian Peninsula. Even a drop of its juice was enough to kill a child in a matter of seconds.

Asteria added three full fruits to the bowl.

“This is—” Lysandra was about to protest when the Oracle cut her off.

“Our Lady wouldn’t harm any of her Students. Trust her.”

As the last step, the woman filled the vessel with a dark red liquid and passed it to Saria. “Drink this.”

Saria stole a glance at Lysandra, and only once she got a small nod from the Princess did she dare to drink the concoction.

The bitterness was so strong that she could barely stop herself from gagging. Her stomach churned and twisted, clearly offended at the foul thing it was forced to digest.

Asteria took Saria’s hand and guided her into the lake, leaving Lysandra at the shore. They stopped moving once the water reached her waist.

“Lie down,” the Oracle instructed.

Still grimacing from the disgusting taste in her mouth, Saria did as she was told. The water was pleasantly cool, washing over her body with barely noticeable waves as she floated on its surface.

“Now what?” Saria asked, looking at the woman beside her.

“Sink.”

“WH—” The protests died in her throat as she was pushed underwater.

She tried fighting, but the moment her head was submerged, her body turned extremely heavy. Her limbs felt as if they were made out of lead. Her lungs burned painfully, demanding air.

Her sight got hazy, and the last thing she saw was the fading light as she sank into nothingness.

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