The bright disk of a full moon rose in the sky, covering everything it touched with a coat of glowing silver. Its rays slithered between the colonnade of the open gallery and painted stripes of light and darkness on the marble floor. Fresh leaves rustled in the evening zephyr, accompanying the melodious songs of a flock of robins hidden somewhere in the bushes.

Walking slowly, shoulder by shoulder, Noah and Lorelei strolled through the gallery. They didn’t speak for a while, enjoying the tranquility of the moment and each other’s silent company. Throwing a glance at Noah’s sharp profile, Lorelei felt a bit guilty. No words were needed to calm her racing heart; just being by his side was enough. It felt so natural and nostalgic, and she wanted to do everything to prolong this moment. Alas, there was no time to lose in sweet dreams.

“What is going to happen to young master Firmon?” she asked quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the nightly peace.

“One thing is for sure – the boy won’t be joining the Pure Clergy in the Capital.” Noah answered promptly, but seeing the worry on Lorelei’s face, he added: “I won’t harm him in any way, as long as he doesn’t use his powers against us. But I also can’t let him run around freely. It’s such a headache.”

“Honestly, it’s still hard to believe. An Acolyte with Saint Oronte’s sight so far away from the mainland…”

“Nothing surprising there.” Noah stopped in one of the illuminated stripes and put a hand on the column beside him while the moon engraved strings of silver in his black hair. “It is true that the main families carrying the Saints’ blood are on the continent, but don’t forget that we are talking about people with a lifespan of a few hundred years. Do you think they remained celibate or fateful to some long-dead spouses?”

“I… suppose no.” Lorelei knitted her brows trying to make peace with the idea of the venerable Saints frolicking around.

“Besides,” Noah continued, his hand gently stroking the rough stone of the column, “the Saints were the ones leading Norden’s subjugation. It’s natural to leave traces behind. Ildemar, amongst other things, is what remains of that time – a monument of the Two Gods’ holy powers; an untouchable bastion of a conquering aggressor.”

“Are you feeling guilty again for something your ancestors did?” Lorelei leaned on the pillar and crossed eyes with him. Her husband smiled in return.

“For a change, I’m not. I’m rather grateful, to be honest. Ildemar was constructed by Saint Markus who locked a portion of Saint Arslan’s holy power inside these walls. There are apparently special diagrams inscribed throughout the castle that weaken and repel magic, which is a plus when you have angry Binshi coming after your life.”

“Apparently?” Lorelei’s brow furrowed even further and her fingers played with the hem of her sleeve. “What do you mean by ‘apparently’? And how can Sir Gregor and the rest of his clan still perform hexes if magic is being suppressed? Or is it only some types of magic…?”

“You have so many questions, my Duchess.” Noah gently tapped the space between her brows with a callused finger. “Don’t frown, or you’ll get wrinkles.”

Lorelei felt the blood rush to her face and turned her head away. Still, she didn’t miss the mischievous smirk on his lips and knew that he was enjoying teasing her. Suddenly, she had the urge to make it even with him.

“Well, my lord,” she held her clasped hands before her and lowered her face like she had seen some pious ladies do, “as a loving and obedient wife, I’m just acting by example. After all, I swore before the Two Fathers to follow my husband in good and in bad.”

A wheezing sound marked Noah’s failed attempt to mask his laughter as a cough. A few strands of dark hair fell over his eyes, hiding the playful sparks deep inside, as he shook his head.

“Such a demure wife I have! I concede my defeat, my lady, and will answer all your questions to the best of my abilities.”

He gave the column a final pat and resumed his walk, followed by the burning but curious Lorelei. Soon, his quiet words mixed with the song of the sleepy birds yet again.

“Unlike today, where most priests just parrot the Holy Scriptures during their blessings, at the time Ildemar was built, holy powers were widely spread. I don’t know how exactly they work compared to the Binshi’s hexes, but in a way, they are all a kind of magic.”

“You…” Lorelei felt conflicted hearing her own thoughts coming from Noah’s mouth. “It isn’t wise to be saying this aloud.”

“Why? Because the Church will burn me as a heretic?” He shrugged. “They’ve had more than enough other reasons to do so but I am still here.”

“You are taking this too lightly, my lord!” Lorelei caught the end of his sleeve and made him stop. “Master always says that bravery and brashness are two very similar things with very different consequences.”

“Are they?” Noah tilted his head and took her hand, her small palm completely disappearing into his. “I’m happy you are concerned about my wellbeing, my Duchess, but you shouldn’t be. I can handle a couple of grumpy priests and the biannual threat to get excommunicated. Now, shall we continue with our walk and the story?”

Lorelei’s mouth was completely dry, the culprit – both the precarious nature of their topic they were discussing and the warmth spreading up her arm from where Noah’s fingers touched her skin. She just nodded and let him guide her away from the courtyard and deep into the bowels of Ildemar. Her husband continued his narration as if she never interrupted him, not a care in the world clouding his clear voice.

“When speaking of magic, the Binshi and the few Church Acolytes that are left can feel and use it. But none of them can see it, not like Saint Oronte.”

“But the Binshi can see ghosts. And even I saw the purifying light of Lady Shana.”

“Yes, but ghosts are not magic, they are just the source for the Binshi’s hexes. And Shana’s light is the end result of her casting magic. Saint Oronte and rarely some of his Acolytes could see the the way a Binshi’s hex or a holy ritual bend the laws of our world. Not even Yanosh was able to do that. And today, Castor Firmon is the only person possessing this gift, as far as I know.”

“Then…” Lorelei pondered for a bit, “if Master Firmon can see the way magic works…”

“Tampering with seals and incantations can become a child’s play.” Noah finished her sentence. “However, Castor can be not only a threat but a valuable asset to us. Ildemar has layers upon layers of protections, some so intertwined that Gregor and his Shadows need to be careful when applying the new charms or they might trigger something and have the whole castle fall on their heads.”

“They are doing all this blindly?” Lorelei’s eyes rounded.

“You can say that they fumble their way around. It took Yanosh and me two years before we managed to rearrange the old protections to suit our needs.”

The two had reached a familiar spiral staircase and started ascending it. Lorelei had to look at her feet as to not slip on the old polished steps, but Noah’s firm grip gave her a sense of security. He would catch her even if she were to fall. She dared to slightly twist her neck in his direction.

“What did you mean when you said that you worked together with Lord Yanosh?”

“We wanted to make Ildemar a safe haven for both Binshi and Limerians alike,” he replied, his hand gently supporting her waist. “But the existing holy blessings hampered the Binshi’s abilities. So, we tried to find a loop in the castle’s defenses. It wasn’t easy and some sections of the northern tower were damaged in the process… Well, in the end, Yanosh succeeded in combining Binshi magic with the holy blessings engraved by Saint Markus. Now I can pretty much control the barriers around Ildemar.”

The staircase ended and they emerged at the top of the tower. Bathed in moonlight, the Star of Norden glowed like a little sun. Lorelei was again mesmerized by its beauty, her eyes – entranced by the sparkling facets. But this lasted only a second before she turned back to Noah.

“I can see the question written all over your face,” he said guiding her forth. They halted a few steps before the pedestal. “Go on.”

“It is not so much a question,” Lorelei stared at the red gem at the center of the relic, “rather, it is a theory. The Star of Norden is somehow connected to Ildemar’s protection… and with you.”

She released Noah’s hand and started walking slowly around the pedestal.

“But if the Star is the pivot of a hex, its power should weaken when separated from the castle. Or am I wrong? Is it perhaps just a fake and the real relic is hidden somewhere else? And if not, why would you give the key to the castle’s defenses to kush-turgan Akasha?”

“My, my! That is quite the good theory, my lady!” Noah lifted an eyebrow as his lips curved up. “You are almost correct. What you see here is a symbol of the eternal peace between our two folks and… an amplifier. Usually, the castle has restrictions that are permanently active, like the one preventing malicious magic to be brought beyond Ildemar’s threshold. Others need to be activated in special cases, like when there are large numbers of foreign hot-tempered shamans under my roof. The Star helps me to suppress the powers of any shamans outside of the Wolf Mountain clan. And as for why only I can do that…”

Noah didn’t finish. Instead, he closed the distance and put his hand on one of the star’s tips. The sharp edge pierced his skin and a small drop of blood trickled along the crystal branch until it dropped on the red gem in the very center. Crimson light erupted, engulfing the room.

There was a slight tremor and Lorelei's ears popped. At the same time, her eyes detected a weak golden shimmer coming from the walls surrounding them. Crimson and gold mixed together, twisting in a myriad of ever-changing patterns.

“Yanosh’s blood created the hex.” Noah’s voice reached her ears – deep and resonant. “But the one who provided the key to Ildemar’s old incantations, the blood of Saint Arslan, was me.”

The light slowly faded and Noah removed his hand from the crystal. He turned to Lorelei and she could see a sarcastic smile on his face.

“Back in Sefis, when you called me The Guardian Star of the North, everyone thought that it was too high a praise for a bastard. But in the end, you were not far from the truth, my lady. In a way, I am the Star of Norden.”

***

Unbeknownst to them, Akh-Moren smiled with the face of the body he was borrowing and slowly retreated. His little spy had gathered enough information. As he descended the stairs and entered the main corridor, there was a movement next to him but the Shadows on guard recognized his vessel and only nodded in greeting.

Peaceful fools. Thanks to their own lord, his plan was now complete. With that little trinket gone, the fall of Ildemar and the acquisition of his little bride were assured.