**Venice. Cathedral of Saint Sava the Protector. July 26, 1886. Sunday.**
The illustrious city of Venice, having witnessed a multitude of events throughout its existence and having long served as one of Europe's commercial and political hubs, has since lost much of its former prominence. All things come to an end, and the era of its heightened social standing and geopolitical significance on the world stage has long since passed, although what remains is still a source of pride. This is due in no small part to the efforts of the Venetian doge and its affluent aristocracy, who cherished and deeply loved their beloved city.
Venice has become a byword for medieval culture to the entire world, having preserved its most significant buildings and architectural ensembles from the past. These are veritable gems of architectural heritage, not only for Venice as a city but for all of humanity.
Many of these houses, cathedrals and grandiose structures are built on water, on man-made islands, which makes this city even more extraordinary and places it on a pedestal alongside such cities as Rome and Constantinople.
The era was auspicious, with no conflicts in Europe. The recent conclusion of the Serbo-Bulgarian dispute in March had left the city brimming with holidaymakers, predominantly tourists. Nonetheless, a significant number of local residents also frequented the city. However, not all indulged in revelry and physical recreation, for this city was renowned for its religious sites and the deep piety of its inhabitants.
At this moment, numerous churches and cathedrals were hosting Sunday services, drawing a sizable crowd. The Cathedral of St. Svyatozar, the Protector, was no exception, boasting an unusually large attendance, predominantly composed of men. Upon observing these dignified young men, some with silver strands in their hair, it became evident that they were warriors and combatants.. The figures of these men were well-trained and lean, their eyes were filled with determination, and their gaze was so intense that one could say with certainty that their message was not only heard in their ears, but also resonated deeply in their souls.
In the cathedral, there were at least a hundred and fifty such individuals, and while they appeared to be standing together, two distinct centers of focus could be discerned within their group, dividing them into two distinct camps.
Today, he was passing through Venice, having planned his route in such a way that he would be in the city on this day, allowing him the opportunity to attend the Sunday Mass at the cathedral named after his dear friend, whom he considered a great man and a devout Christian. The fact that his friend belonged to a different denomination held no significance for him, Svyatozar Zmiev.
However, this cathedral held a special significance for him beyond this, as it was here where the body of his other friend, Vencenzo Amati, lay in repose in a tomb.
Marco no longer heard the bishop's words from the Holy Scripture. He was lost in his thoughts, recalling moments from his past. The faces of Svyatozar and Vencenzo came to mind, along with their conversations and debates, not just on religious matters but on the broader topic of the world order. They discussed everything from social interactions to the movements of celestial bodies in the cosmos.
At those moments, Marco was struck by the grandeur of the Creator's work in creating the universe. He marveled at how educated his interlocutors were, with Svyatozar standing out as the most remarkable. His knowledge was astonishing, and much of what he shared seemed like extraordinary revelations, which only later became known to the rest of humanity.
Undoubtedly, sorcerers are far ahead of ordinary people in scientific knowledge, thanks to their abilities to perceive the world more deeply. This allows them to understand it more easily and effortlessly.. But what Svyatozar spoke of was, even for mages of that time, an unsolved enigma. How could he have known of it?
Only a few years had passed since their meeting, yet Svyatozar had already become an exemplar for Marco, a guide in his pursuit of excellence. And while Marco did not wish to create an idol, for it was against one of the Commandments, there was someone to look up to, someone to pray to — the Lord God Himself! But He is far away, distant, and comprehending Him with one's own mind is a challenge. Svyatozar is close, looking at one, a genius of the magical arts, marked by the Lord with His sign, a man free from human vices, not indulging his flesh, not enslaved to any vice. Howsoever one might try to find fault with him, Marco cannot, and so it becomes increasingly difficult to resist the feelings of admiration and awe for Svyatozar.
But then, abruptly, almost out of nowhere, the head of the Inquisition appeared, and it happened to be this year that the previous head had vacated his post. However, the successor had yet to be designated, as the Vatican was reluctant to see an unyielding "fanatic", a "soldier", and, in essence, a relic of the past in this position. Yet, they were unable to find a suitable candidate, as the inquisitors refused to accept anyone as their leader. Marco, the most obvious and qualified candidate, emerged from the shadows of the past due to the increasing commotion and excitement that seemed out of place.
The revelation caused Marco to open his previously closed eyes and marvel at the spectacle unfolding within the cathedral. The floor, walls, frescoes, and stained glass windows emitted an ever-growing and intensifying radiance. It was as if a mother's hand had touched one's head, transporting one back to childhood, when one's feet were bare and wiggling, and one returned home to quench one's thirst with a mug of kvass offered by one's mother. The heart and soul were filled with delight, and the words of Holy Scripture resonated in one's mind like an angelic chorus.
The people present, witnesses to yet another divine wonder, stood in silent rapture. The radiance reached a crescendo, but despite its intensity, it did not impair vision or cause dazzlement.
And then, the unthinkable began to unfold. The sense of divine presence became so intense for those initiated individuals that the very air seemed to distort under the weight of its overflowing holiness. Marco, himself, had experienced something similar, albeit on a much lesser scale, only once before, when he had briefly held in his hands one of the nails that had pierced Jesus's flesh at the crucifixion. But this time, the sensation was a hundredfold more intense, causing his legs to give way, and he sank to his knees, commencing to offer up a prayer to the Almighty.
At that moment, Marco was oblivious to everything around him. He did not notice the citizens of Venice, who were in a state of religious ecstasy, nor the few individuals, including all his companions and a number of knights, who were there with them, kneeling as they were, gazing through the floor slabs and other obstacles that obstructed their view of the tomb, where the relics of Saint Vincent Amati, the newly canonized cardinal and his late companion, were housed.
Despite the vast expanse of stone and earth, they had been granted a glimpse of the impossible — the resurrection of a human being! The light of revelation shone not only within the confines of the temple but also outside, and those in the immediate vicinity of the Cathedral of Saint Sviatozar, the Protector, also fell to their knees. They were consumed by an overwhelming desire to offer their prayers to God, which they now did. Hundreds of individuals, in a synchronized outpouring, praised the divine, reciting prayers wherever divine grace touched them!
For a span of ten minutes, an immense quantity of divine energy emanated from the egregore of the All-Encompassing One within the sanctified precincts of the temple. This flow ceased only when the revived Vencenzo emerged from his stony sarcophagus and ascended to the congregation of worshippers, among whom his fellow members of the order were present. As if by the stroke of a wand, they fell silent. At this moment, a chain of St. George the Victorious manifested itself around his neck, emanating a golden radiance that served as a symbol of the authority and supremacy bestowed upon him by the order of the Creator.
"Brother Marco?" Vencenzo inquired, his voice resonating in the now-absolute silence that pervaded the hall.
"Vencenzenzo?" The young man addressed the elderly individual in a hoarse and tremulous voice, barely recognising Vencenzo Amati, the former cardinal and master. But why the "former"? No one had stripped him of his title; who would even consider such a thing? And who would undertake the arduous task of altering the legal status of a deceased person? A true cardinal, yes, and with the chain of Saint George adorning his neck, making him the master of the Order of the Creator!
"Yes, it is I. Tell me, what year is it?" I inquired, smiling at my companion, who appeared more youthful than I remembered him before his passing.
"1886! How can this be?" Marco was certain that true resurrection belonged solely to Jesus Christ, and no one else. Yet today, his belief had been shaken to its core! He had witnessed it with his eyes and felt it in his very soul, leaving no doubt that this was not the work of the devil, but rather the hand of God.
"Our mutual friend has sent me back into the world on a quest, but I shall share the details privately," he said, for most of the congregation had already been overwhelmed by the awe that accompanied Vincenzo's return to life, and they now listened intently to every word spoken by the Cardinal and Marco.
"My lord, Magister! I, Alexander Gross, prostrate before you. May I express my deepest respect and humbly request permission to depart for Rome, our headquarters, where I will inform our brethren of your return."
Alexander delivered this statement kneeling with his head bowed, as befits a younger initiate addressing an elder in the order's hierarchy. Vencenzenzo and Marco could not help but admire the remarkable composure, fortitude, and unwavering nerve exhibited by this exemplary individual. Not a trace of agitation, apprehension, or any other form of unease could be detected in Alexander's demeanor. In fact, Marco momentarily felt a pang of envy towards the esteemed Knight, as he himself could not claim such composure.
For Vencenzenzo, Amati was a revered figure and almost an idol, but for Marco, he was, above all, a dear friend who had departed too soon.
"There is no need," he said. "We shall go together; I shall not tarry in Venice an instant longer. I am bound for the Vatican at once." And with these words, there was a subtle shift in Venecenzo's demeanor, a change in his tone and even his posture. There was a predatory quality to him that boded ill for those he had come to visit.
"And you, Marco," he continued, "come with me!" It was not a plea, it was a command, and though the Order of the Creator and the Inquisition were separate entities, with the latter subject only to the authority of the Vatican, and the former subject only to God's will, Marco did not think to resist. He sensed with every fiber of his being that great changes were at hand, and that his comrade-in-arms and friend would usher them into the Church and into Europe!
It was at this juncture that Vencenzo and Marco awoke from their slumber and rose to depart the sanctuary, vanishing instantaneously, materializing in the plaza before the cathedral. The reason for their abrupt departure was that a contingent of mages hailing from the MCM, having arrived for an unknown purpose, had initiated the process of casting a spell of amnesia upon the witnesses to the miraculous event. However, this state of affairs did not persist for long, as no sooner had a handful of individuals succumbed to the loss of recent memories than the entire group of mages found themselves subjected to a formidable pressure. With none among them possessing the strength of their master, they were incapable of resisting. They were forced to the ground, with only a select few managing to maintain their kneeling position, while the remainder sprawled helplessly on the pavement, their strength utterly depleted, clinging to consciousness with their final vestiges of vitality.
"You have lost all sense of fear, you vermin!" Vencenzenzo roared, incensed beyond measure, for he had witnessed a crime so abominable that it deserved the harshest of punishments in his eyes. How dare these abominations deprive the intellect of the memory of God's miracle! It enraged him, and his sensual nature flared into a fury that only a disciplined and powerful mind could contain. Otherwise, his homicidal intent, known in Asia as Yaki, would not simply crush the source of his ire but annihilate it, reducing it to atoms.
The disparity in power between the cardinal and the deceitful sorcerers was so vast that it would have been effortless for him to accomplish this task, even without the need for structuring his own mana or channeling any other aspect of his essence through spells. It required only a single intention, and now he unlocked a repository of knowledge embedded within his mental being by Svyatozar, imbuing him with the realization of possessing a divine gift.
At this moment, Vencenzo was at the pinnacle of his emotional state, and his gift was poised to be unleashed. The senior member of the group of sorcerers who had arrived there chose this moment as the perfect opportunity to overcome his resistance and meet Vencenzo's gaze.
"You wretch!" was the final words that Vencenzo heard from the sorcerer's lips, and in the next instant, his spiritual essence burst into purifying flames. These flames first consumed his essence, before consuming his physical form like flammable material in a fire. His naked soul was then sent back into the cycle of Sansara for rebirth.
Vencenzenzo's rage was ignited by the images of sin and depravity that he witnessed in the memories of this sorcerer, which he was able to access thanks to the second gift bestowed upon him by Svyatozar — the Sense of Sins.
This mage had long been a frequent visitor to the realm of the innocents, not merely in the course of his duties, but also driven by his perverse desire to satiate his lust. The objects of his abhorrent acts were always children, no older than seven or eight summers. He showed no regard for the gender of the child, and once he had obtained what he sought, and his desire was satisfied, the child would be met with a swift and cruel end.
To conceal his crimes, he would locate the parents of his victims, erase their memories of the missing child, and instill in them a desire to relocate without delay. These actions were taken by the sorcerer to cover up the atrocities committed by him.. All his mental manipulations with the minds of others, he conducted poorly, which not only ruined the fate of the child he had killed, but also that of his parents, who were sometimes forced to abandon all their possessions and set off into the unknown without anything, leading them to a life of vagrancy, which they maintained for a brief period. Their associative mental processes were severely disrupted, and they occasionally lost touch with reality, eventually transforming into biorobots with minds finally destroyed.
When Vencenzenzo beheld the desolation wrought by this ignoble creature, he no longer constrained his fury, allowing it to flow freely. It did not manifest in its purest form; instead, it surged into the spiritual realm, channeled through the instrument of the Punishing Eye. This instrument shattered the mystical shields of the sorcerer, stripping him of all semblance of humanity. Now, his atman must begin anew on the wheel of Samsara.
The swift retribution of the mage, who deemed himself superior to the common folk, left those who remained alive in a state of horror. They feared even the act of urinating, lest they attract the attention of this mage, whose power was beyond their comprehension.
"Marco, what gives these beings the audacity to believe they have the authority to rob the intellect of its recollection of God's miracle, and how could Maria have permitted such entities," Vencenzo said, gesturing at the molten pavement stone that glowed with intense heat and radiated a reddish hue, where a sinner had been recently incinerated. "Into her organization?"
Vencenzo was outraged and deeply disturbed, to say the least, that his daughter, whom he held dearly as a father, had failed to detect and prevent such beings from infiltrating the organization she led.
She is no longer the chairperson of the MCM. Soon after your demise, she resigned from that position and assumed the role of abbess at the convent for unmarried women, which she continues to hold to this day.
Only after hearing Marco's response did Vencenzo manage to quell his temper and refrain from slapping the thoughtless girl on the backside, as he had initially contemplated. He now berated himself for his impulsive judgment and resolved to rectify his ignorance regarding the current state of affairs, lest he act hastily and irreparably. He was one of the few witnesses to the execution to fully comprehend what had transpired with this despicable individual. Realizing that he had yet to master his gift, he understood the necessity of acquiring as much knowledge as possible about both the political and broader aspects of the world before making any decisions.
Vencenzenzo's mind was preoccupied, and Marco observed the wizards in a state of near-collapse with the detached curiosity of an entomologist. It was unclear what had affected them the most, whether it was the intensity of Vencenzo's power or the sudden demise of their elder colleague.
Although the surviving wizards were not particularly skilled in magic, their abilities were sufficient to sense the terrifying energy of the disintegrated spiritual shells. The result was a scene of utter devastation, with some wizards lying in puddles of their own bodily fluids, while others were scattered in heaps of their excrement. This was the aftermath of the destruction of their souls.
Meanwhile, as Vencenzenzo conducted his trial and engaged in conversation with his friend, the escort of Marco and the knights of the order hastily departed the temple, swiftly apprehending the representatives of MCM who displayed no active resistance or attempts to resist.
"Tell me, Marco," I inquired, "why is my hometown governed by the MKM?"
At the time of the cardinal's demise, the Republic of Venice had been an independent state, albeit not a particularly large one. The majority of the ruling body and the most prominent aristocratic families consisted of magicians. Rather than establishing a separate Ministry of Magic, they entrusted all interactions with the ICM and the Church on behalf of the nation to a designated governmental agency within the same complex as the supreme governing council and the office of the Doge.
This agency was concealed from the unenlightened and directly subordinate to the sovereign, unlike in England or France, where it functioned as an autonomous institution of power and oversight over the magical community of their nation, overseen by the oldest and most noble families of magicians.
Vincenzo, a native of Venice, now finds himself within the confines of the Italian state, yet he is left without a ministry or governing body to oversee the enchanted portion of the population and their scattered enclaves. Conversely, the Vatican maintains oversight and control solely over the city of Rome, while the remainder of the territory falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry for Cultural Heritage and Activities. Vincenzo was utterly perplexed by this development.
"How can this be?" exclaimed the Cardinal, aghast and enraged. "Who could have conceived such a notion, and how can it be permitted in the Vatican?"
Such news left the Cardinal utterly perplexed and incensed, for his mentors and tutors, who had shaped him into the man he was today, had been active participants in the most violent years of conflict between religion and the magical community. Raised in the spirit of those tumultuous times, he was appalled that mages could now interfere in the lives of unrelated, non-gifted individuals without consequence.
Everything that he and his predecessors had fought for, the values and vision they had shared, were slowly being eroded. No, he could not allow a mage to once again establish some kind of power play while remaining unaccountable to ordinary people.
The actions and decisions taken by the current pontiff, who assumed office only a few short years ago, have been the subject of much discussion. Before taking the name Leo XIII, he bore the title of Vincenzo Gioacchino Raffaele Luigi and was a count of Pecci.
I am familiar with this family, although they do not belong to the highest echelons of aristocracy, with their lineage spanning less than a millennium. How then was he elevated to the position of Pope? The cardinal was genuinely perplexed. Regardless of one's perspective, it is inconceivable to assume the role of the head of the Church and occupy the throne of St. Peter without the support of a vast network of noble ancestry and the backing of the majority of Rome's patrician families. This was certainly the case during Venenzo Amati's lifetime.
It so happened that he was the only candidate available. In those days, there was a lack of consensus among the Roman patricians, and several high-profile scandals rocked the city, one of which involved your family, Vencenzo. Thus, the Count of Pecci was appointed. However, he proved to be a rather shallow individual, and it later transpired that he was under the firm influence of Mariano Rampolla, the Marquis del Tindaro.
Upon hearing this new name, Vencenzo's mind began to wander, and a thought occurred to him. "Wait, are these not the same Marquises del Tindaro who once faced excommunication?"
The events you are referring to took place in the fifteenth century. However, a century and a half later, those involved were able to redeem themselves. They regained Pope's favor by making extravagant financial contributions to the Vatican Secretariat, with which they still maintained connections. This maneuver allowed them to secure their reintegration into the fold of the Holy Catholic Church.
There were rumors circulating that Father Vencenzenzo Pecci might have been linked to some form of demonic worship, but our investigations did not substantiate these claims. Nonetheless, we took note of this information, and now comes this surprise! Mariano Tindaro, unexpectedly, has emerged as a trusted confidant of Leo XIII, having already assumed the role of Secretary of the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office.
It was evident that Marco was deeply concerned about the fate of the Tindaro family. Throughout his life, filled with perils, he had learned one irrefutable truth: there is no smoke without fire. However, his men were unable to find any trace of evidence leading to the truth, as it seemed to vanish like smoke. All those who had spoken of the family's involvement in dark magic either disappeared mysteriously or met untimely deaths. These events suggested that there was a deliberate attempt to conceal the truth.
The conversation between Marco and Vencenzenzo took place not in the public square before the cathedral but on the way, as they travelled with their entourage and captive magicians in gondolas towards the church of San Giacometo.
Vencenzenzo did not merely listen to Marco, but also delved into the knowledge that was inadvertently imprinted on his mind, concerning his new abilities and powers. Svyatozar imbued him not only with knowledge, but with skills and abilities, which were already embedded in the very fabric of his body and the mechanics of his spiritual shells. These were presented to Vencenzo as if he had already mastered them through years of practice. The Cardinal was astonished by the vast array of new knowledge he possessed, and how his arsenal had grown and diversified.
Svyatozar did not confine himself to bestowing the gifts of the Penal Eye and the Sense of Sins. He expanded Vencenzo's mental realm with knowledge of numerous spells from the realm of High Light Magic, as well as other branches that could prove invaluable to Vencenzo in his journey. After all, Vencenzo had attained the pinnacle of archmage status in terms of strength and capabilities, yet he still sought to augment his knowledge and skill set.. Here Svyatozar corrected this unfortunate misunderstanding, for which he did not spend a drop of his own power but used the computing capabilities and forces of the egregor of the One. But now, the Cardinal had no equal power among the gifted of the church.
Marco was consumed by a mixture of curiosity and impatience. Barely having recovered from the astonishment of his friend's resurrection, he was confronted with an incident involving magicians in the cathedral square, which further muddled his thoughts, preventing him from achieving clarity. Now, as he sat in the gondola alongside the legendary figure who had been canonized after his death only to be resurrected later, Marco realized that Vencenzenzo had experienced life beyond the mortal realm and was the sole living person on Earth who could offer firsthand insights into this realm.
However, Marco managed to suppress his curiosity, deciding that the moment was not opportune for such inquiries. Instead, he resolved to wait until they were in private, when the Cardinal would be unable to evade a barrage of questions regarding the afterlife.
With a deft dismount from their conveyances, they alighted upon the quay adjacent to the edifice of San Giacometo. Alongside their erstwhile comrades, the soldiers of the Inquisition and the Knights of the Creator escorted the bewildered sorcerers into the subterranean chambers of the temple complex, where both the agents of the Inquisition and the order of the Creator took up residence when business necessitated their presence in this illustrious city.
But no sooner had Vencenzo and Marco crossed the threshold and shut the gates of the temple, which was temporarily closed for repairs and restoration due to lack of religious activity, than they became wary once again. They were not alone in their unease; several Inquisition warriors and knights sensed the spatial disruptions inherent in the appearance, indicating that more than a dozen magicians had now appeared in the square before the temple.
"Battle stations," the metallic voice of the master of the Order of Knights — not a cardinal, but the master himself — called out, turning back towards the gate they had entered. Just as he had done earlier in the Cathedral of Saint Svyatozar the Protector, he moved towards the newcomers, with Marco following in his wake.
"Who are you?" Vencenzo inquired of the group of magicians, his tone devoid of any emotion, as he regarded them with unconcealed scrutiny. His gaze did not fail to note that the members of his own Order and those of the Inquisition were adorned in superior artifacts and weapons compared to these unknown individuals.
One of the magicians, who appeared more ostentatious than the rest and was the sole one whose robes were not black but rather a deep maroon, responded when he realized he was being addressed by a representative of the Church and one of significant standing.
«I am Ferdinand Brooks, the Senior Emergency Response Team leader of the MCM Marbles. We have been summoned here in response to a distress call from the staff we serve. Might I inquire as to with whom I have the honor of conversing?»
The speaker appeared to be a member of the nobility, albeit not of the highest rank, likely having earned their title through military achievements or exploits. Ferdinand's bearing immediately suggested his military background, a legacy not merely of his own training and education but also of his numerous ancestors who had served in the armed forces.
«Cardinal Vincenzo Amati,» the speaker replied. «The reason for our presence here is now within the confines of our order, and the apprehended mages shall undergo an interrogation. They have transgressed the law and committed a grave offense.»
«That cannot be true!» they exclaimed. «They are members of the Obliviator Department, who have arrived in Venice in response to a distress call, as there has been a severe disruption in magical fluxes. Their task is to mitigate the consequences by erasing the memories of any possible witnesses to the magical event.»
«Hmm. Fascinating. From what I understand, as soon as your notification network detects a magical disturbance in Europe, you dispatch obliviators first, rather than an investigative team or authorised personnel to assess the situation before taking action. This seems counterintuitive, given that your role is typically associated with security measures. It would make more sense for you to arrive first on the scene. If I am correct in my understanding, you serve as the frontline combat force, sending out other teams only after you have established safety.»
Vencenzenzo's astonishment at the apathy and negligence of the MCM grew increasingly profound, and there seemed no other term to describe his feelings as he observed the events unfolding around him. In his mind, he contemplated the multitude of divine miracles that had been lost if the MCM's approach to preserving the Statute were not a singular case but a widespread and universally accepted practice among magicians. This realization ignited a surge of indignation within him, but upon recalling the recent incident and its consequences, Vencenzo managed to quell his anger.
"Yes, just as you said," the leader of the dark sorcerers responded in a calm and direct manner. His tone and demeanor had shifted from a merely formal one to one of respect, with a trace of barely perceptible trepidation. This was because for an instant, Vencenzenzo's aura had slipped through his control, revealing itself in a moment of anger that enveloped the entire space.
The young occultists who stood behind Cardinal Ferdinand were momentarily overcome by a sense of weakness, unable to fully comprehend the source of their unease. Brooks, on the other hand, who had personal experience with Maria Badoer's outbursts and had been subjected to the archmage's presence more than once, was greatly impressed by the power emanating from the priest before him. Vencenzenzo, who was no less formidable than the previous head of the MCM, left an indelible impression.
It was only then that Brooks recalled where he had encountered the name Vencenzenzo Amati before. However, the spiritual mentor of his former superior had passed away long before Brooks joined the ICM.! How can this be?
Might I pose a question to you, Most Esteemed? he inquired, seeking clarification on the matter. Upon receiving a nod in response, he proceeded to elaborate, "Are you familiar with Maria Badoer?"
She is my adopted daughter, and I serve as her spiritual guide, he revealed, a faint smile playing on his face as he recalled Maria. His countenance, usually devoid of emotion, softened at the memory.
It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir, he said. I was among the group of candidates who underwent the rigorous examinations for Maria's personal evaluation as the prospective chairwoman, and I feel honoured to be in your presence. During our training, Maria Badoer, along with her secretary, Ms. Koneko, occasionally conducted refresher sessions for us, during which your name was frequently mentioned as an exemplar of martial arts and the mastery of magical skills applicable in any situation, even the most unforeseen. "Constant Vigilance" is the true essence of a dark lord!
Ferdinand Brooks, now a byword and paragon for the fresh recruits of the MCM, defies his age. My dear girl has left an indelible impression on you, judging by your effusive praise. I am delighted to make your acquaintance.
As for the Obliviators, they were apprehended by my valiant knights and Inquisition soldiers for their unwarranted use of magic upon the ungifted. It was necessary to clarify the situation in order to erase people's recollection of the miraculous event. You may learn of their fate from...
Here, Vencenzenzo paused, for in his absence many things could have altered in the administrative apparatus and services of the Vatican, though they do not favour such changes. He turned to Marco for guidance.
"Marco, are the affairs of the Church still managed by the Holy Office of Magic under the Holy See in the Vatican?" Upon receiving confirmation, I resumed my conversation with Ferdinand.
«Ascertain their fate from them,» he said. «All will be well and a warning, should there be no further transgressions on the part of your people, and they will be set free. However, I have many grave concerns regarding the operations of the ICM as a whole, and the obviator department in particular, which will soon require a response from your superiors.»
«I have heard you, and I shall convey your words verbatim to my superiors,» he replied. «I have the honour!»
With nods from Vencenzo and Marco in agreement, he instructed his men to withdraw and accompany them. «Things are looking grim for us and for the mages,» he mused. «Where have all the sensible people gone? Today's events provide ample justification for a renewed crusade against witches and wizards, fools that they are!»
He was not afraid of a possible new clash between the magical enclaves and the Vatican. Despite the decline of all other branches of church power, he remained confident in his knights, and even more so in the Order of the Dragon. These mercenaries would never cease their pursuit of perfection, and given that at the time of their founder's death, they numbered well over ten thousand, they now numbered at least several times that. This left no chance of success for any who might oppose them.
For these guardians of the faith, the speaker was most grateful to Svyatozar, for it was through his efforts that the Holy See possessed a sword that would always stand vigilant over humanity!
"By the way, Marco," he said, "do you know where Svyatozar might be now? Has he reappeared?"
"You still believe he survived his encounter with Dracula?"
Time and again, Marco and Vencenzo revisited the memories of that brief engagement, reliving the experiences of the eyewitnesses and their own recollections. Yet, the Cardinal could not shake Marco's conviction that Svyatozar met his demise during that encounter. Indeed, he could not imagine the victorious Svyatozar retreating to a secluded existence.
"I do not merely believe it, I know it with certainty," Marco declared, and at those words, Vencenzo's face relaxed, and he raised his head, basking in the sunlight, his countenance radiant with the memory of his time in paradise, and the responsibility he now bears to strive for the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth.