The mist hung around the pale white gates in chilling silence. The post deserted with no guard on duty.
"Where is the guard?" the knight whispered.
As his men whispered at the absence of the guardian, Luther turned to his side. The mist slowly curled closer to them, as if caging them like a trapped bird. Lowering his eyes to the bell strapped on his belt, his spirit drifted into the mist. The soft wave of its chime rang, colliding with a presence drifting in the mist.
Something is here with us. The translucent figure hovered beside him as it stood still in silence. His men were oblivious to the invisible spirit lingering around them.
As I had feared, this isn't a regular mist.
The dead spirit usually lingered within the mist. A fragile bridge between the dead and the living. The more dead spirits crowded in one place, the denser and colder the mist formed. In times, the living who wander the mist could get strayed away from their path and lost with the dead.
Vincent came forward. "Knights of the Luminary Voice request an audience with Luminary Justice." There was no response. Vincent tried again.
Luther inspected the pale wall. The blue sigils were barely visible on the wall, with no trace of the luminary's miracle prayer. The eerie state of Ashendel warned him of troubles looming over: blood-roses thrived on a barren land, the guard's post abandoned, dead spirits lingered, and the barrier had been set off.
Behind the post guard, a sudden clatter broke the silence. A weary knight with disheveled curly hair peered over behind the wall, blinking away the sleepiness.
"Sleeping on duty? And only one guard." Hartwin frowned. "What is the Luminary of Justice doing with his men?"
The knight jolted upright in panic, drawing his bow and arrow at them. His arms trembled as he tried to pull the string ready. "Who…who goes there!" the guard stammered.
"We are the Knights of Voice accompanying Sir Luther, the Luminary of Voice. We came seeking your luminary for guidance." Vincent glanced at Luther.
Luther removed his cloak and draped it on top of the sinner to conceal her face. He ordered her through the bell. "Keep your eyes down." The sinner pulled the hood closed over her face. It was fortunate for him the sinner listened to him without a question.
"Why do you seek the luminary? What business do you have here?" The knight's arrow trembled in his grip.
"We carry the will of Heaven. Please summon your luminary," Vincent said, his voice stern but steady.
Soon footsteps marched to the gate. Their bows drew upon their heads. Luther noticed the similarity in their disheveled states.
"They don't even recognize their own kin." Vincent slowly withdrew himself back to Luther's side. "What now?"
Luther hesitated to use force. The guards were in disarray due to whatever plagued their spirits. Exhaustion was controlling their decision. Anything that comes forward will only be a threat in their eyes. He held the bell. He could try invoking the miracle prayer to prove his identity. Yet, the restriction was still in place. If he failed to prove himself, they'll just pounded his own men with arrows. He glanced at the shield covering his knights. He wished to avoid battling with his own kin.
"Out of the way!" A booming voice cut through the tension. The guards scattered away. A man emerged from the crowd. Golden hair tousled and steel-blue eyes of heaven's gift.
Caelthorn Valiance.
"Luther!" The tempered steel-blue eyes softened the moment they saw Luther.
Luther bowed to give his greeting. Cael ordered the guards to open the gate. The gate groaned open. On the other side, Cael stood waiting. He had deep, sunken eyes. His steps hobbled towards the last ray of hope before him. Luther caught him when he stumbled in his way.
The proud grown man crumpled in his arms. Words of gratitude and soft sobs spilled out. Luther patted his back, giving him some time to regain himself. As the future generation of luminaries, they grew up together at Lumina Cathedral. Though their blood flowed from separate lineages, their brotherhood tied them strong as one. Luther saw Cael as an older brother because of his sense of justice and kindness in taking care of every young luminary. And Luther—he was the timid mouse hiding behind his brother's back. A frail twig easily snapped with a slight touch. It was odd being the one offering comfort to the brother he had always looked up to.
"Thank you," Cael chuckled.
Luther's eyes turned to the Ashendel. Tattered leather tents scattered on the streets. Civilians walked out of their tents, drawn by the commotion. The elderly clasped their hands as they cried out to the heavens. Limbs tangled in thorns of roses and bloomed inside their empty sockets' eyes.
"What in heaven's name happened here?"
"Why are there civilians in Ashendel?"
Knights of Voice exchanged murmurs of disbelief. Cael lowered his head in shame.
"Some of these people are from Thistledell. That's Uncle Osric." Vincent's gaze inspected the civilians. The name was familiar to Luther. Before he asked Vincent, a voice called out first. "Vincent!" The vice-captain snapped his gaze towards the voice. His eyes shivered at the sight of a family wrapped in ragged blankets. Faces brightened up when they waved their hands at him. Vincent responded with a bow.
"These civilians didn't come from one place. Please let me explain everything. I need your help. Thank the Heaven for they answered my prayers!"
Luther gripped his hand. This was the first time Cael asked for something. Usually, it was the other way around. If the Luminary of Justice sought his help, it could only mean Ashendel was beyond Cael's control.
Cael's gaze flickered to the hooded figure behind Luther. "That's—"
Luther held his brother's shoulder, and his eyes pleaded to keep it quiet. He wouldn't want to create chaos among the civilians when they already had enough trouble. Cael understood this and nodded.
"Come. We'll talk at my headquarters."
Cael's gaze lingered on the sinner as he turned around. Luther pulled the sinner close behind him.
"Keep your distance close to me. You wish to meet death early, but not these people. They are fighting to keep their own." He warned her through the bell.
"Very well." The sinner nodded.
Civilians' eyes were glued on them. Light flickered in their hollow gazes as if seeing hope for the first time, unaware he brought another kind of omen.
***
Luther kept glancing at the sinner. Afraid she would just run off if he wasn't looking. He noticed her gaze never leaving the charred ground—remnants of the fire she caused to the former Lamifel. The land she burned to ashes. Commoners knelt on the streets as they passed by, frail arms stretched out offering their pleas. The sunken eyes glimmered with hope when their gaze fell on Luther as a shining beacon. Luther felt something twisted inside him. He knew well he might just have brought another disaster upon these people.
"Civilians shouldn't set foot in Ashendel. It should take them at least two weeks for those who came from Thistledell that is, if the journey were safe," Hartwin threw the questions on Cael throughout the way. Luther might have asked the same thing if he weren't mute. "Why came to Ashendel if they had this kind of trouble? Surely they could have gone to a safer route to the Lumina Cathedral instead. Ashendel is the last place they should go." Cael kept his gaze forward. Frustrated by the silence, Hartwin backed away with a sigh.
"Were they by themselves?" It was Vincent this time.
"I'll explain everything once we are out of the public eyes," Cael quickened his pace. "You brought a questionable figure too. A souvenir from an unexpected visit. I'll be hearing that story from you too."
Luther noticed the beads of sweats formed on top of Vincent's forehead. Lips cracked, and his breathing was heavy. He patted Vincent on the shoulder, asking him if he was alright. Vincent jolted at the sudden touch.
"I'm fine. It's the sight of the roses that worries me, and seeing my family after months."
Get some rest, Luther signaled.
Vincent shook his head. "You'll need me to interpret your words to the luminary."
The frown on Luther deepened at Vincent's stubbornness. He wanted to argue back when he felt a tug on his cape. He glanced to his side, finding a child grabbing his cloak. Luther bent down. His large hand over the child's small and rough hand. The mother held their clasped hands. Her face was stained with tears.
"Please save us, O light."
Luther withdrew his hand to his chest.
I'll ensure your voice is heard.
They arrived before the Judge Tower. The last bastion gleamed with a barrier of blue sigils pulsing on the stone wall. The faint light struggled against the encroaching blood-roses. It was the only thing that kept the blight from coming near. While the rest of Ashendel lost its light, Judge Tower stood alone as the last beacon. The sigils' light was turning dimmer as the overwhelming roses around the building sucked out its vitality.
"Before we enter, I would like to talk with my brother alone," Cael requested.
"You'll need me to translate everything." Vincent offered himself.
Cael shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I'll have him use his miracle prayer on me."
Gasps stirred behind Luther. His jaw tensed. If he could have his voice now, he'll be yelling at Cael for his foolishness.
"That's outrageous. Even if you're a luminary, hearing the voice comes with a consequence. With one wrong answer, you'll receive greater punishment."
"If I failed, it is my failure. I have failed in my duty as a luminary to safeguard Ashendel. The curse torments the people. I too won't have much time left."
Luther turned around to the sinner. He untied the bell from her wrist. Before he removed it, he told her one last time. "These people had enough. If you truly wish to depart from this world in peace, I can promise you a swift and painless death. Don't harm any of them."
"A strange promise from a luminary. But the deal isn't bad." The sinner retracted her free hand to her side.
Luther wondered how much he should trust the wrath's words. Maybe he too was already spiraling into the same madness that gripped his brother. He signaled to Vincent, stay here with the sinner.
"Ye—" Vincent let out a harsh cough. A knight came to his side.
And please rest.
"As you command." Vincent bowed weakly.
Luther followed Cael inside. The door creaked closed behind him; he looked back one last time. The people anxiously waited outside as their light left them behind in the dark. Wrath stood still, head bowed, her face unreadable. Inside, the weight of the truth waited to be unraveled.