“Sazin, the Sword. Patron-god of warriors and craftsmen. It is said the smiths of old prayed to him as they forged their weapons, and that they were able to create blades that could even repel demons. Nowadays, smiths don't pray much, and warriors have little faith left in them when they see their comrades falling one by one under the orders of an idiot commander. Oh, there's plenty of these pretty knights praying to Pelirise, though. But put an army before them and they'll promptly retreat and hide in the rear. Sazin's era, the era of the braves, 'tis over, I tell you.

-disenchanted swordsman”

* * *

Astrael

Callir was larger than most towns he had ever seen, but still smaller than the great capitals he had visited.

As they closed in on the city, Astrael sat next to the coachman, from where could observe the fortifications. He guessed that the southern wall, around the gate through which they'd be entering, was about ten meters tall, but the height would probably vary here and then.

The beige walls were scattered with large, square towers, and even bigger ones could be found on each side of the gates. Machicolations and murder-holes everywhere, as far as he could see, and guards patrolling behind the battlements.

A river was running alongside the western face of the city, and, as he remembered reading about, also flanked the northern face – which had more to do with a fortified cliff than a proper wall, according to Horace – and offered an additional protection for the keep. He was about to conclude his observation of Callir's defences when he caught a glimpse of a depression in the ground near the walls.

“What's this?” he asked Phiramel, who was behind him, as he studied the mysterious crevice.

The high-priest squinted his eyes and he searched for the place Astrael was pointing to. “Ah,” he exclaimed once he noticed it. “An all too forgotten and abandoned digging site.”

“A moat, I presume.”

“That would be it.”

Hmm... He rubbed his chin as they passed near the depression. I recall Euronel mentioning a moat project in his book. I guess they never finished it. Well, that should be enough like that.

He merely wanted to confirm that the city was a safe place. Were the city-state under threat, he doubted Rina would be in real danger since she'd be among the most protected citizens, but still. Heroes making their appearance meant times of turmoil in the near future, and he'd feel uneasy knowing that his sister wasn't living in a properly fortified town.

Not that she would spent all her life behind these walls. The church would think of that as a waste.

“Woah!”

Astrael turned his head to see what had caught his sister's attention. Rina was looking the other way, toward the gates, where a market of sorts was taking place. Traders and travellers were setting up stalls and tents outside the walls. Guards were arguing with merchants, slaves and carriages were going in and out, travellers were checking out merchandise and negotiating, every single being in this curious settlement were busying themselves with one thing or another.

“Why are they doing business here?” Rina wondered.

The high-priest pointed to the guards at the entrance. “That, young mistress, is because they don't want to pay the toll to enter.”

“They chose to do commerce outside the walls,” Julia pitched in from inside the carriage, “even though they have less customers, rather than being taxed on their merchandise and sell the rest in the city.”

Rina wore a nervous expression and voiced her concerns. “Will we be taxed, too?” Hearing that, Julia chuckled and caressed the girl's cheek with the back of her fingers.

“No, young mistress, worry not. We are not merchants, and carry no goods of any sort. Even if that was the case, we members of the church – and you're one of us now – are allowed to go in and out as it pleases us.”

“What about my brother?” she then asked in an innocent tone, of which only Astrael could understand the deceptiveness. He couldn't help smiling to himself, seeing her sister in action already. “He's not officially with the church, is he?”

Julia glanced at him, and he replied with a smile. “Astrael is a guest of the church, you may say. And if someone is stupid enough to have a problem with that, Phiramel and I will vouch for him.”

So if it wasn't for the fact that Rina is my sister, I'd be dependant on these two's goodwill, eh?

“I'm sure no one will dare troubling our hero's brother,” Phiramel interjected. A most accurate statement, Astrael reckoned. In all likelihood, people would act kindly toward Astrael, simply because he was her sibling. Just another way of gaining her favour.

As the carriage and the knights passed through the market, onlookers gathered and wondered among themselves what it was all about. Whispers and mutters were exchanged, and Astrael could hear them wondering who could possibly afford such a knightly escort. Phiramel ushered everyone inside the carriage and Julia made sure that Rina was kept hidden from prying eyes, while Astrael was left alone to his spying through the slit between the curtains.

The crowd was slowing down the carriage, and so Leon bellowed to them. “Make way! Make way for his excellency!” It was obvious that the church wanted to avoid Rina's identity being revealed to the public. Be it because she's still a child, or because they fear spies in the streets, they must have their reasons.

He deemed wiser not to ask – yet – and kept observing the crowd in silence. While traders and customers showed interest in the commotion, the slaves kept working without interruption, accompanying their masters through the stalls, carrying merchandise, watching over the goods, and so on. I should perhaps buy a slave or two once we're settled, if I'm to set up a workshop or start a business of some sort... Designing plans and diagrams I can do even with this body, but carrying stuff and hammering nails... I can hardly see myself doing all the heavy lifting.

His parents had left them a bit of silver, but it wouldn't be nearly enough to accomplish Astrael's goals, even more so if he decided to listen to his whims and open a shop or something. He would have to decide on a way to earn money, among all the methods he had thought of before coming there. The obvious ones were to rely on the temple or on Rina's status, but there would probably be better options to be found once he would have gained more insight on the current political and financial powerhouses in Callir.

The guards stiffened as the templars went in, then immediately blocked the way once the carriage had passed through the gates, as to prevent sneaky knaves from taking advantage of the event and entering the city freely with unauthorized merchandise. Astrael followed the scene, watching from his initial peeking location, then via the window, and finally through the curtains at the rear.

Some bellowing man attempted to pass himself for a merchant, and was thrown on the ground as he tried to force his way through. He was then dragged away in some guard room and, though Astrael couldn't see anymore from this angle, he could hear the beating.

At least the security at the gates doesn't look too lax, he thought as he finally sat back in the carriage, crossing his arms. “Mind giving us a tour of the city?” he then wondered.

Julia shook her head and gave him a wry smile. “I'm afraid we won't have time today. The young mistress needs to be introduced to the church members, and to be shown around the temple.”

He could only shrug. “Figures.”

“We're on the main street right now though, as it is the shortest route to the temple, so feel free to look.”

Astrael complied and peeked through the window once more, and so did Rina. That's a main street indeed if I ever saw one, he reckoned. If he thought the gates were crowded, then what could he say about that? The street was large enough for carriages and riders to pass each other, while inhabitants walked pretty much everywhere and in every direction.

From the regular citizens attending their affairs in the city, to the prominent noble on horseback with an escort, even the slaves carrying luggage, the workers moving logs, the beggars trying to steal a fruit from a merchant's crate, every single person gave an impression of purpose.

Even the prowlers and lurkers were busy prowling and lurking, raising some of that sandy dust as they dragged their feet in shady alleys and around corners. And the smell... It smelled as a city should, of sweat, piss and faeces, of the occasional perfumed lady, of harsh fumes and dark smokes from workshops... Nothing he couldn't handle, but Rina looked disturbed. It was different from the smell of the farm and the cattle, surely she was surprised. Still, she did her best to hide her discomfort, and her brother was the only one who could see her slight frown and her pursed lips from this angle.

But that wasn't all, it was also noisy. Between the horses, the chatting wanderers, the yelling merchants, Astrael could barely hear his own thoughts. Though the noise and the agitation seemed to dim a little around them.

Onlookers gazing at the street from the windows of their houses bellowed to each other and lowered their voices a bit once they spotted the church's carriage, kids sitting on stairs suddenly got up as they noticed the knights, and pedestrians stepped aside without anyone asking them to. Saying that the church of Xito was an important faction in the city felt like an understatement.

Quite different from the Xito I know. He had not many followers, he wasn't exactly well-known, or even well-liked. To most people who had heard of him, Xito was no better than an ominous god, and I don't blame them for being wary of him. With an attribute like that... He scoffed. The Blood... It makes it sound like he's the god of blood magic or whatever.

And, well, in some of these lands where Xito wasn't trusted much, being suspected of blood magic was the sort of thing that would earn someone a seat at the stake.

He stepped away from the carriage's window for a bit, and glanced at his sister. She, too, had no idea what being a servant of Xito entailed, beyond the loyalty to the church. If Pelirise was the virtuous shield, the abnegation and the selflessness, all bathed in sunlight of course, then Xito was the darker counterpart. The painful abandonment, the corporal sacrifice. The rags soaked in one's own blood.

At least that was how his former comrade saw it, though it was clear to Astrael that the guy had sanity issues. But that was enough reminiscing – the past was the past. His sister was the chosen one now, and she would handle her Duty her own way. She'd make use of the blessing as she saw fit.

Even though I hope she won't have to make use of it at all.

“Young mistress,” Julia said to Rina, who was still observing the city through the window, “we'll soon arrive at the main plaza, where the temple is located. If you may, please put this on before exiting the carriage.” She handed her out a bright crimson gown – a stronger red than the one the priests were wearing, probably a proof of her rank – and a darker cloak to wear over it. Both clothings had silver embroidery here and there, resembling bramble branches and thorns.

Yeah, the obsession with thorns and all that... He rolled his eyes. Xito's followers haven't changed, there is just more of them.

“The gown will be your formal attire,” Julia added, “and we'd rather have you wearing it at all times. From this day on, you're a symbol, after all.”

By the time Rina had clothed herself, the carriage had stopped. Someone opened the curtains at the rear, and Astrael could see a bunch of knights keeping watch, in addition to the ones that were already escorting them. Phiramel got off first, and greeted some priests that were waiting outside. They exchanged a couple of words while casting a few glances inside the carriage, and eventually Phiramel nodded and motioned for Julia, Rina and Astrael to come.

“Don't forget your hood,” Julia reminded the girl.

“What about Astrael?” Rina asked while she covered her head. She looked like a princess in exile, her face half hidden and her long lustrous raven hair flowing out.

“Is my pitiful peasant clothing not to your liking, young mistress?” he mocked. She kicked him on the shin.

“I don't think it'll cause any issue,” Julia declared in an amused voice. “I'm not sure the young mistress' brother is the type to hide under a cloak, anyway.”

“Indeed,” Astrael asserted as he stepped out with his head held high. The girls followed him, though he made sure to let his sister walk in front and get all the attention. It wouldn't do if it looked like he was the chosen one, with Julia and Rina mistaken as his maidservants or something.

They were led toward the large and tall pyramidal building he had spotted earlier. A row of columns at the top of a volley of stairs surrounded the oak gates. They opened slowly, theatrically perhaps, and Phiramel finally greeted them with a sentence he had probably been dreaming of saying for years, if not decades.

“Welcome to the temple of Xito, young mistress.”