"Is this the place?" Leondre asked.
A familiar white tree could be seen on the buildings archway. It's many leaves covered the topmost entrance in blue. While it's roots stretched downward blending with the white marble steps.
Cendric rolled his eyes. "Have you never seen a shrine before whelp?"
"Please stop calling me that. And no, it's just the shrines back at home were smaller and mostly made of wood."
"Different region, different materials. Stop gawking and go in." Cendric pushed Leondre toward the steps, as he walked up inside.
Two rather burly women, wearing cobalt blue overalls partially covered with chainmail. Stood in complete silence, between two corridors. Despite their appearance, both of them warmly smiled at the two new visitors.
"Are those Paladins?" Leondre whispered.
They were infamous group of holy warriors rumored to have only blessed females among their ranks.
"Templars. All-Mother doesn't discriminate between those of the Eildriaei Faith." Cendric said quitely.
[But her children and followers do.]
A voice echoed across the room. "May the Holy Daughter grace us with her mercy. What can do I for you gentlemen?" A gaunt, elder woman in white robes glittering with gold threads, stepped out the corridor closest to right.
A priestess of Mithra.
Leondre haplessly opened his mouth, only to stop when he realized it was Cendric who should have been answering. He turned to his companion only to find them preoccupied, staring at the floor.
Leondre nervously swallowed. "Ser–my friend, is in need of a healer."
Cendric curtly nodded to the woman before tossing her a silver coin. Prayers and guidance were always free. Unless you were a child, rituals costed coin. A second later, the silver disappeared within the cuffs of her robe. The priestess, satisfied with the donation, motioned them to follow.
"What's in the other corridor?" Leondre asked the priestess.
"The Daughter of Mercy, is but one child amongst the many of All-Mothers. This country may favor Mithra, but that does not mean the others are dismissed."
"Then it is a shrine for the other gods, like Bodhem or Ygritt?" Leondre was always a bit confused on this part. Everyone viewed the All-Mothers offspring as god's, and addressed them interchangeably by, "The God(dess) of", or, "The Son (Daughter) of." But the Temple never explicitly stated them as such, only implied.
"Indeed. Including Cairn and Gwen." The priestess said, as she led them down serveral corners.
Officially, there are five children:
Bodhem, The Scarlet Son.
Mithra, Daughter of Light and Mercy.
Cairn, The Earthen One.
Ygritt, Daughter of Darkness and Passion.
And Gwen.
They went by many names, but those were the main ones.
"Please, through here." The priestess stood aside holding the door open for Cendric and Leondre. "I'm afraid their are other duties I must attend to. The holy maiden is young, but she is one of our best healers."
The door clicked as it shut behind them. A young lady behind thinly veiled drapes, was patiently awaiting on cushioned seats.
Her face was like caramel, warm, soft, and glistening under the candle light. She wore a white shirt over her dress-like tunic. Her silky, brown hair was wrapped in bun, held together by a blue handkerchief.
Walls were decorated with murials, depicting historic events or scenes from scripture. The room looked to be a seating area for guests, save for the flat, rectangular pit, carved out of the floor. Several purple candles were lined along its four corners. In the mouth, was an intricate circle formed by wax seals.
Cendric cleared his throat, breaking the reverie.
"Begin the ritual Sister maiden."
This was considered the proper way to address Holy maidens. Most often people shorten it to Sister.
"Pray tell, what shall I be performing today?" Her voice rang out like a shadow of whispers.
The older boy, and man exchanged glances.
'Are they all like this?' Leondre mouthed.
'Yes.' Cendric waved him off.
"A healing ritual. But there is another I want to do after."
"One a time then. Please, strip to thine undergarments." Her tone was entirely professional.
The Seeker wasted no time in shedding himself of all articles of clothes. He pushed the pile aside, and walked toward the pit. Leondre had his back already turned, anxiously facing the wall. He sneaked a glance at his compainion, only to wince in sympathy.
The entire upper half of Cendrics left shoulder was a patchwork of blue, yellow, and black. His back was covered in several lacerations, some nearly translucent whilst others not quite properly healed. Leondre had several questions, but he knew it wasn't the time nor place.
"You can stand outside the door Leondre."
"If you need me Ser, just shout."
Leondre opened the door, closing it behind him.
Cendric rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms out, making no effort to hide the discomfort. "Begin Sister." He was only here out of neccesity. A mundane healer worked just as well, but it would take at least month or two for the arm to heal completely.
Cold hands, soft to the tip like feathers, gently probed his arm. An alien but not uncomfortable presence, was left tingling on his skin where her fingers last trailed.
"These are no small bruises." The Sister maiden observed, carefully eyeing one particularly swollen patch of skin.
"Really? I couldn't notice." Cendric said, his tone laden with sarcasm.
"By continuing to use this arm, the muscles have become severely inflamed. You also have several tissue, and a bone, contusions." The Sister maiden replied, flatly.
Cendric sneered. "My, my, Sister. If you know this much, perhaps you're better suited as a physician, than maiden. One surely carries a title not only in name."
The Sister maiden went silent after.
Her hands still continued to roam his shoulders, albeit, less gentler than before. An arcane light began to pulse from the circle, revealing geocentric patterns and archaic symbols, as the alien sensation intensified. Tingles became prickles, like a thousand needles digging into him. The unpleasantness lasted no more than a minute, before the numbness set.
"Thy ritual hath concluded, may thine Merciful Daughter grace thee." The Sister maiden lifted her hands, clasping them together, as she dipped her head in prayer.
What once had been a mix and match of blue, yellow, and black. Was now a sickly, pale splotch among healthy skin.
"...The second request, Sister."
"I'm sure another can do this." She smiled politely, but there was a iciness to her hazel eyes.
"Please, Sister maiden." Cendric knew he couldn't let his contempt for the Temple shroud his better judgement. They may be maiden in name, but these women were not to be trifled with. Though a few, but close knit group, their sorcery was genuine, and influence vast.
[The last thing I want is to wake up, and find myself imponent. And who knows? In the future, I may need her services.]
"The Holy Daughter is merciful, is she not?" Cendric slipped three silvers onto his hand, raising it for the maiden to see.
"She tries, but not always."
Holding the pouch under his armpit, Cendric cupped his palms as he dropped several more coins.
"I believe this is enough for my donation?"
"It's enough to cover the next ritual at least." Seeing Cendrics pained expression, she nodded satisfyingly. "The Holy Daughter is very merciful indeed.
Cendric unclenched his fist, as she turned away with the, "donation", in tow. The Temple, Academy, it was all the same to him. Snakes and foxes hiding behind bullshit, poke hard enough and they'd reveal their true fangs.
[Don't kill her. Do not kill her. Everything's going as planned, freedom is within reach.]
It wasn't hard, the door opened outward. Patiently stand, opposite to the door handle. Catch her off guard, frame it on the whelp, and plan the escape from there.
Of course, he'd have to get past the Templars, and avoid the town guard.
In the meantime, the Sister maiden had returned. No doubt several silvers wealthier. A basket filled to brim with rolls of wax seal, was cradled between her arms. She strode over to the pit, past a fully dressed Cendric, and began reapplying wax onto the circle.
After several minutes of toiling, she stood up dusting her self. "The preparation for the second ritual, is ready. All I need, is to know which I shall be performing today."
"Blood ritual." Cendric said.
"Do you wish to make a blood vow? Or is there someone, you wish to discover connections with?
"Connections." This was the crux of Cendrics plan, eventually, his motives would have to be revealed.
[Better to build Leondres trust on the partial truth, when he's young and still forgiving. Than risk it all as he gets older and smartens up, on a complete lie.]
"Be warned, second party must consent willingly, or I will not do this ritual." The maiden cautioned.
----------
Leondre had started to get bored, when Cendric called for him.
To his relief, the older knight was fully clothed now, sitting legs-crossed, in a granite pit. The maiden, similarly, was doing the same. A crystalline bowl made of what Leondre guessed, quartz, sat within her lap.
[Wow, they really do use alot of wax in their rituals. And that's a scrying bowl in her hands!]
The libraries back at the Academy, didn't offer much on Holy maidens of the God's. Accounts mentioned an extensive use of wax, and listed some of the tools they used in rituals.
Mindful of the candles, Leondre carefully stepped down the marble steps. He sat beside Cendric, a healthy distance away from the circle.
"Did she heal you completely? Also, what happens during the ritual? Is it really a miracl–Cendric?" Leondre regarded his companion, there was a glazed look in his eyes.
"Listen to what the good Sister has to say, after, decide." Cendric said, without a care in the world.
This did not sit well with Leondre. He didn't want to offend: Cendric was a fellow brother, and his senior, the Seeker came off a little rough but good-natured. However, he only just met the man, and there were too many questions floating around his head, that needed answering.
"...Beloved child of Mithra," The Sister maiden said, interjecting his thoughts, "your companion has requested I perform a blood ritual. Let not the name fool you, for this specific one is harmless. But for it to work, a small amount of blood given willing, is required." She gestured to the two wood-handled knives within the bowl, reeking of alcohol.
"Like hell I had choice." Cendric softly muttered, rolling his eyes at the Sisters last remark.
"Forgive me, Sister. Is–is it, possible for me to address you by a different name?" Leondre said, slightly nervous. "It's just there is someone I call sister. Well Big Sis actually. We are not really siblings but—"
"Child, should you not be asking me the purpose of this ritual. Or perhaps, what is entailed?" She bluntly replied.
"Sorry, please forgive me big si–, I mean Sister!" Leondre quickly sputtered an apology as he mentally kicked himself.
[Oh Mithra, why did I ask that? Now I've gone and offended a holy maiden. Wait, does this mean I indirectly offended you as well?!]
"Whelp." Cendric spoke softly, just like before at the taproom.
"Right, sorry. Please go on Sister."
The maiden stared at the pair curiously. 'Siblings? No. Perhaps distant relatives.'
"Listen well, Mithra is The Daughter of Mercy as she is light. Light reveals all under it's gaze, including truth. We use this during ritual, upon the blood of two person, to find connections between them."
"That's it? You learn if you're related—" Leondre turned to Cendric, "Are we?"
"Seven hells. Do the bloody ritual, and find out!" Cendric roared, his patience had been running thin.
"You know, it's not as scary for me when you yell. The instructors used to do it—" A bowl clattered against his knee.
Leondre looked down, grabbing a knive, as did Cendric. Both held their hand over the bowl, as they made a cut. After several droplets of blood, the Sister removed the bowl. Gripping their bleeding hands, the circle began to glow once more until she relinquished her grasp.
Any trace of the self-inflicted wounds, were nowhere to be seen.
"—light reveals all, Ye oh Merciful One. Cast thine gaze upon this lost—"
The Holy Maiden rose up, closing her eyes in prayer.
"Ye oh Light One. Hear mine plead: Montre moi la lumière—"
Leondres ears perked at the last part. 'La lumière? The light? She is speaking in Frankish.' Yawning next him, Cendric got up and started to stretch his legs. The man remained oblivious to what was happening, perhaps, disinterested was more accurate.
While Leondre continued watching in awe, Cendric was glancing over the longsword hanging by his waist. Soft, eldritch rays, jutted out the top end of the scabbard, where the locket allowed the blade to slip in and out.
[Defintely not a replica.] He thought.
"Oh, Mother. Cendric, is blood suppose to steam like that?" Leondre was excitedly pointing at the white vapor emitting out the bowl.
"Cousins." The Sister maiden cutt in, as she quitely finished her chant.
"Cousins? How are you able to tell?" Leondre asked.
"The closer the relation, the stronger the lights warmth becomes. Boiling would mean a direct relationship; a parent, sibling. If it simmered, perhaps a grandparent, or aunt and uncle. Steam indicates cousins, likely first or second." She walked between Cendric and Leondre, holding the bowl up for them to drop the knives in.
"So..." Leondre glanced nervously at his compan—No, cousin.
[Oh boy, really didn't expect this. I doubt he's from mothers side, without the green eyes, red hair and all.]
Cendric shook his head. "By my honor, I'll explain more on our way to the Guild." He motioned Leondre to follow him out.