In the sacred sanctum of prayer, the ambient glow of runestones cast a serene luminescence upon the prayer room. The atmosphere held a delicate balance between reverence and tranquility, with the altar commanding attention at the room's center. A meticulously adorned rug led the way, guiding worshippers toward the symbol of faith — a crucifix suspended with solemn grace. The gentle murmur of fountains, carrying streams of holy water, provided a soothing undertone.
As Indo entered, the room seemed to acknowledge his presence, embracing the weight of his frustrations. The air held anticipation, the spiritual energy of a sacred space pulsating with divine resonance. I, a figure of wisdom and guidance, awaited my protégé.
"My boy, how goes your progress with the investigation?" I inquired, my voice carrying a gentle authority. The words resonated in the hallowed chamber, carrying the solemnity of both mentorship and shared purpose.
The answer, however, was laden with a sense of defeat. "Futile," Indo responded. Ever attuned to the needs of my wards, I approached with a reassuring presence.
A subtle gesture invoked a healing touch as I placed my hand on Indo's shoulder. The divine connection sought to ease the tumult within my troubled apprentice. "Calm yourself, young man. A clear head can think and see without distraction, while a worrisome mind is cluttered and difficult to find anything of value in. Breathe deep, relax, and tell me what you know so we may find a solution together."
The calming aura of my blessing worked its magic. Even Indo, known for his tempestuous nature, couldn't resist its influence. A defeated sigh escaped him, and he shrugged, surrendering to the guidance offered. "I blew the mission. They're onto us now because of me. Now, we have not had a chance to find other hideouts, as anytime we come close, they just move."
The confession hung in the sacred space, echoing a sense of shared responsibility and the weight of a world in need of salvation. The holy room, witness to many prayers and confessions, stood steadfast as I and my charge sought solace and strength in our communion with each other and with God.
In the shadowy depths of the prayer room, my gaze fixed on Indo, frustration etched on his features like a tempest threatening to break free. The room, dimly lit by the gentle radiance of runestones, held an air of sanctity. The altar, adorned with the crucifix, seemed to embody the very soul of our conversation.
"If they could move that quickly without anyone noticing, yet still remain hidden from the Janissaries, there could only be two possibilities that come to my mind. They have hidden hatches that were not seen by the inquisitors because not only did they not know where to look, but also the dark made it difficult to find. Either that, or perhaps they had access to a waygate, concealed with powerful magic," I pondered, my thoughts delving into the intricacies of their elusive movements.
The room held a hushed stillness, a sacred space where secrets were shared, and the divine guided our discussions. I continued, seeking to impart wisdom and reassurance to my troubled charge. "Let me start by saying that you making a mistake just shows you're human. You have a heart and soul, and sometimes your emotions outweigh what is best for the greater good."
Leaning in, my hand rested gently on Indo's shoulder, a silent offer of support and understanding. "Now, have any of you looked for secret hatches they may be using to evacuate the area?" I inquired, my gaze penetrating the darkness with an unspoken resolve.
"Of course we have," Indo responded, a trace of annoyance lacing his words, a testament to the vexations of the task at hand.
"Is it possible you missed anything?"
"Anything is possible, but that doesn't make it likely or reasonable."
"Have you looked for teleporters or waygates? Either created by wizards of this world, the angels from heaven, or the scientists from the outer worlds?" I probed further, introducing possibilities that might have been overlooked in the search for earthly exits.
A pregnant pause lingered, and Indo's reaction spoke volumes. The room seemed to hold its breath as he stopped cold, a blank stare revealing the impact of my words. "Would that mean it would be safe to assume you have not?" I asked, gently guiding the conversation toward unexplored avenues.
"Why would we? The Janissaries could sense the Essence used to power the gates regardless of who created them. We trusted they were competent enough to find such a gate and the hideout, should the cultists be so bold and careless as to use one," came Indo's response, a revelation of the assumptions underlying their investigative approach.
In the sacred space of the prayer room, where the divine met mortal concerns, a new direction unfolded—a path not yet ventured in the pursuit of the elusive Necros cult. The ambient glow of runestones seemed to intensify as if approving the shift in focus, and the altar, bathed in the ethereal light, became a symbol of hope in the quest for answers.
In the ambient glow of the prayer room, where the flickering light from the runestones painted intricate patterns on the altar, the weight of revelation hung in the air.
"Normally that is true, but a powerful necromancer could place a shroud on the portal to prevent it from being seen through the means the Janissaries are used to, and a powerful necromancer is what we could expect from a cult trying to raise Necros from Hell. Not to mention the scientists have devices as well to assist in concealing teleporters, should that be the situation."
The gravity of my words settled upon Indo like a sudden revelation, his mouth agape in a silent acknowledgment of the overlooked possibilities. The room, steeped in the quietude of spiritual contemplation, bore witness to the realization dawning on him.
"How could we miss such a detail? We're all trained for this, and Osei has an extraordinary amount of experience, second only to the Master inquisitors," Indo confessed, the furrowed lines on his forehead betraying a mix of frustration and disbelief.
"Indo, these things happen to the best of us, and that is why we have a team. Christelle is more powerful than all of us, but as mighty as she is, she is still a woman and has limitations. She needs the assistance of others, especially men, to advise and take the lead when necessary. And there is no guarantee that they have access to a waygate anyway, but it seems the most likely possibility."
As the words found their mark, Indo gradually regained composure, the storm in his eyes subsiding. Our shared understanding of the situation set the stage for the pressing matters that awaited our attention. I cast a cautious glance around the room, ensuring our discourse remained within the sacred confines of confidentiality. Placing protective wards on the entrances, I secured our sanctuary from unwanted intrusion.
"What about the private assignment I gave you?" I probed, redirecting the focus to the clandestine task at hand.
"I really don't think Archmagus Z'albor is involved with the cult. He is close to Archmagus Nazir and surrounded by Janissaries," Indo responded, a hint of skepticism lingering in his voice.
"No, boy! You must not count him out so quickly. Do not forget that Z'albor is a Corpselord himself. The stories say he even sacrificed both his best friend and the woman he loved for the power he possesses today. He is the second most politically powerful person in the entire nation, behind only the Sultan, who grew into power by leading a rebellion against the previous Sultan. And who oversees the Janissaries? Is it not this same Sultan whom solves first with violence? I understand Nazir saved your's and Guan's life…"
"And Osei's," Indo interjected, the recognition of past debts woven into his interruption. The subdued illumination in the prayer room cast shadows that danced on the altar, creating an almost mystical backdrop to our conversation.
"Right. And Osei's life. He still associates with a violent nation whose leaders are a usurper and a sorcerer who is even willing to sacrifice the most important people in his life. Nazir is either a fool or an evil man, and Elleshar cannot be trusted with investigating the Sardonians. Not only is he a sort of sorcerer himself, but also a Velmar, and his master is friends with Z'albor. Christelle means well, I'm sure, but women cannot be in charge of assigning people to lead an investigation. Their talents are better used elsewhere."
Indo, in a gesture that spoke of both resignation and acknowledgment, shrugged and sighed. "Then what would you have me do? I have found nothing. Would you like me to break into his chambers and see what I find?"
"No, no. You wouldn't find anything because a sorcerer wouldn't keep anything like that in the open. Z'albor very likely has a pocket dimension. Not to mention you would probably be caught and killed or imprisoned. Just keep an ear out and use your judgment to determine if anything suspicious is going on."
Indo shook his head in disagreement. "Father, I have nothing but respect for you, but you're wrong. There is no way they can be involved in this as you say. I have the best training the Church has to offer. They prepared me to see through the lies of deceivers, and my intuition says there is nothing suspicious about these people. Our efforts and resources would be better spent looking elsewhere, like finding Viknesh."
My frustration, simmering beneath the surface, began to bubble. The boy meant well, but he was naive, unaware of the intricate machinations of the world. "And I am appointed as a leader in the Church. The scriptures tell you to obey and follow your leaders, as they were appointed for a reason. Your intuition says one thing, but my knowledge of the world and spiritual aspects says another. Do you doubt that I have the best interests of the Church in mind?"
"No, I don't doubt, but…"
"Then do as I ask. There will always be false prophets who try to lead God's children astray. I know you think they worship the same God, but they do not. Do they accept the Trinity? Of course not. Therefore, how can Allah and God be one and the same? And if they are not one and the same, can both lead to heaven? Jesus says the way is through him, not one of the ways is through him. There is a right way and a wrong way, my son, and the Sardonians do not do things the right way. I suggest you stay true to the scriptures so you can match your life and doctrine. Your sister, who is younger than yourself and does not have a position in the Church, does a wonderful job at doing so, and you're supposed to lead her."
Indo, a mixture of guilt and confusion etched on his face, lowered his head in a gesture of humility.
"I'm sorry, Father. I'm still getting used to everything," he said as he bowed down.
"Keep your head up, son, and give me a hug. You are family, and we must love and respect one another as Christ has done for us."
As the warmth of our embrace filled the room, the hushed tranquility of the prayer room cradled our reconciliation. We parted, a sense of peace settling upon us, a testament to the enduring strength of familial love within the sacred embrace of the Church.