The Record of the Saints Caliber

by M. David White

“R-Really?”

  “Yes,” said the Oracle. “As we understand it, you would like to be made an Eremitic Saint.”

  “But, how…” How did it know that?

  “Being how Holy Father regards you so highly, perhaps he will grant you your wish.” said the Oracle. “Seems fitting since you have all but granted Karinael her’s. She’ll be very excited to receive her Call to Guard tomorrow.”

  Nuriel looked at the Oracle. “But.. You said not until she was ready.”

  “I said ‘Not until she herself feels ready’,” said the Oracle. “And she has stated many times that she feels she is ready. And after all, you have attested to it.” It waved the paper she had signed. “Let’s not forget how dangerously low on Saints Jerusa has become. Your own story tells us as much. Perhaps tonight you can tell Karinael all about Jerusa. She’ll be assigned to King Gatima. Perhaps even his new Exalted, Leviathan Hydra.”

  Nuriel felt as if she couldn’t breathe. What had she done?

  The Oracle opened the door of the room. “Holy Father will see you tomorrow morning, Nuriel.”

  Nuriel stood up, her mind tumbling. She walked out of the room. She walked down the hall, not really paying attention to where she was going. She wasn’t being followed or escorted by the Holy Few, and so her feet took her down whatever hallway they fancied as her mind wandered off in its own random directions. In her hand she clutched the parchment she had been given back, the one that guaranteed her an audience with Holy Father, but that was not the parchment her mind was focused on. Right now she wondered what fate she may have just consigned her one and only true friend to.

  Nuriel’s head spun. Everything was too much, everything felt like a mess. The more she wondered how much the Holy Few knew, or what was going to happen to Karinael, or what had become of Isley, or even what Celacia was up to right now, the more she felt the whole situation was unbearable. The only thought that could bring her comfort was Holy Father himself.

  She was tired. Just tired. She wanted to be done with secrets. She wanted to be done with sneaking around. She wanted her life as a Saints Caliber like it was in her childhood dreams. She stopped in her tracks and took in a deep breath. She looked around and found that she was in an enormous corridor at least twenty-feet wide with a high, sharply arched ceiling where giant chandeliers cast their gaslight upon the wooden rafters high above. The length of the right wall was adorned with massive stained glass windows depicting various scenes of the Goddess or her Saints of yore. One of them was of Holy Father Admael in his youth.

  Nuriel walked up to the giant window and found herself cast in a rainbow of light. She looked up at the depiction of Admael. He was young and in black Star-Armor, though his face was still tender and sincere, and those silver eyes of his could not be mistaken. He was on his knees, looking down into the face of Aeoria who he held in his arms. Her eyes were closed and her body was limp. She was in a flowing white gown and her amethyst hair cascaded over Admael’s arms. In the background were ivory towers in flames. There was a sadness and somnolence captured in the picture that Nuriel couldn’t quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was how Admael’s eyes frowned instead of smiled, or the way he held the Goddess in his arms, as if mourning her? Perhaps it was the peaceful look upon the Goddess’s face?

  Nuriel reached up, her hand touching one of the facets of glass that made up Admael’s star-metal boot.

  “Are you a Saints Caliber?” asked a small voice.

  Nuriel jumped at the sound. She wasn’t certain she was supposed to be wandering the palace and probably had been expected to leave right away. She looked down. There was a young girl standing beside her. She had hair like crystalline blood, cropped short, that framed her round face. She looked up at Nuriel with large, ruby-red eyes that sparkled in the light of the stained glass. Upon her chest was a small breastplate of steel, and beneath it she wore white robes that were dirty on the knees and elbows. In her hands she clutched something to her chest. Nuriel thought she couldn’t be older than four or five.

  “Are you a Saints Caliber?” asked the little girl again.

  Nuriel smiled softly. “I am.”

  “Which one?” asked the little girl.

  “Saint Nuriel.”

  The little girl tilted her head and looked quizzically upon her. “I haven’t seen you before. Where do you live?”

  Nuriel crouched on her knees and looked at the little girl. “I live out there, beyond the mountain.”

  “Are you just visiting?”

  “Yes. Something like that.” said Nuriel.

  “I’m going to be a Saints Caliber one day too.”

  Nuriel couldn’t help but smile. “Is that so? What’s your name, little girl?”

  “Eulalee.”

  Nuriel’s smile brightened. “Saint Eulalee, huh?” Nuriel looked at the collar of the little girl’s robe where a small, red stellaglyph was embroidered. It was a thin, sharply tipped four-pointed star, very similar to the Star of Aeoria. “I’ll keep an eye out for you in a few years. Maybe we’ll meet one day.”

  “You mean out there, beyond the mountain?”

  Nuriel nodded. She looked at the girl’s cupped hands. “What do you have there?”

  The little girl looked up and down the hall, making sure nobody else was there. Then, she leaned in closer to Nuriel and opened her hands just a crack. Within her tiny grasp Nuriel could see a little, gray, fuzzy creature. Nuriel spread her hands just a little wider and a tiny, pink nose with long whiskers poked out, followed by a pointy head with black eyes.

  “Is that a mouse?” asked Nuriel.

  “Shh,” said Eulalee, closing her hands back around it. She looked up and down the corridor again. “He was hurt.”

  “Can I see him?” asked Nuriel.

  Eulalee looked at Nuriel doubtfully and then slowly placed the creature into her hands.

  Nuriel watched as the little mouse crawled in her hand, sniffing her fingers and palm. “Where’s he hurt? Maybe I can heal him for you.”

  “I already healed him.” said the little girl.

  Now it was Nuriel’s turn to look at the girl doubtfully. Most Saints did not develop any Caliber capable of anything but a faint glow until they were at least seven, but more typically eight or nine. Healing was rather difficult, especially upon other people or creatures. Nuriel herself wasn’t able to heal herself until she was eight and couldn’t heal others until she was ten. This little girl was no more than five.

  “Oh really.” said Nuriel playfully. “Were you pretending to be a Saints Caliber?”

  “No.” said Eulalee. “I really healed him. Like this.”

  The girl put her hands over Nuriel’s and a bright, white glow encompassed them. Nuriel felt a powerful warmth and tingling. She looked at the girl with awe as she took back her mouse.

  “That’s the right way, right?” asked Eulalee, holding the mouse close to her chest again.

  “Yes…” said Nuriel. “That… That was impressive.”

  “Stars above, girl! There you are!” cried a woman, her voice echoing in the empty hall.

  Nuriel turned. Striding down the hall came one of the Mothers. She had hair and eyes of brilliant aquamarine and wore the standard steel breastplate beneath a white and black gown. Like all Saints, she didn’t look more than twenty-five years old, though Nuriel could guess she was probably in her forties or fifties. The white and black gown was only worn by the Mothers who worked in the nursery and kept the dormitories for the very young children, and they were always older Saints.

  “Stars above! Stars above!” muttered the women as she hurried over to them, looking anxiously down the corridor. Nuriel heard Eulalee sigh.

  The woman stopped right before the little girl. “Thank the Goddess you’re ok!” She bent down and grabbed the girl around the shoulders. “How did you get in here?”

  “I jumped up the cliffs.” said Eulalee.

  “Stars above, little Eulalee!”

  The Holy Palace was not easily a
ccessible unless you were invited. Built upon the side of the peak, only the main path led to the gates and those were heavily guarded. The only other way in would be to sneak up the side of the sheer cliffs. That wouldn’t be an issue for a Saints Caliber or even a Templar, but for a little girl it would be impossible. Especially impossible to do it without getting caught.

  “Aeoria, what do we do with her?” pleaded the woman, throwing up her arms. “And what do you have in your hands, little girl?”

  Eulalee frowned and turned away.

  “Come on, let me see.” said the Mother.

  “She’s got a mouse.” whispered Nuriel with a smile.

  The Mother’s eyes went wide. “Stars above, Eulalee!” She grabbed the little girl and turned her around. She looked both ways down the corridor and then forced Eulalee’s hands open despite her protests. “Where did you come by such a creature?!”

  “I found him in the palace.” said Eulalee. “He was hurt and I fixed him. Can I keep him?”

  “You know pets are forbidden!” said the Mother, looking around the corridor again. “Now go on, let it go!”

  The girl moaned.

  “Come on! Be about it, now!”

  The girl sighed and placed it on the floor and the thing scurried off, shooting down the edge of the wall.

  “I’m so sorry,” said the Mother, looking up at Nuriel. “I hope she has not caused you any problems. I know she’s not supposed to be here.”

  Nuriel smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think I’m supposed to be here either.”

  “Oh thank the Goddess,” said the Mother with some relief. “This one keeps our hands full.” She took Eulalee’s hand. “Now come on you, back with the others you go!”

  “Ohhhh!” moaned the girl, stomping her foot in protest. “But I don’t like them! They’re always mean to me!”

  “Now, now, we’ll all get along just fine.” said the Mother as she led her away. “And you need to get washed up again. Aeoria’s my witness, there’s not so much soot in Hell as you get into.”

  The Mother dragged the little girl off down the hall by the hand. Eulalee looked back over her shoulder at Nuriel with those large, ruby eyes and smiled. Nuriel smiled back and waved at her.

  Once the two were out of sight Nuriel found herself alone in the quiet corridor. Troubled thoughts once again flooded her mind. What would she tell Karinael? What would she tell Holy Father tomorrow? Nuriel looked back at the depiction of Admael in his youth. She lowered her head and rubbed her temples. It was all just too much to deal with right now.

  She sat down beneath the window and pulled her legs up to her chest. She opened up the leather hip-sack at her waist and pulled out her folio. She took off her star-metal bracer and rolled the sleeve up on her left arm just enough to expose the flesh of her forearm. She took up just a little Ev into her injector and slowly pressed it into her flesh. She breathed deeply. Comforting warmth washed over her. She hugged herself and smiled. Tomorrow she’d meet Holy Father Admael. Tomorrow everything would be ok.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  The halls of the dormitory were blessedly empty by the time Nuriel returned. It was dinner time and most of the Brothers and Sisters would be at the cafeteria. The narrow, arched hallway of the tower was dimly lit by gaslamps along the wall, and toward the end Nuriel stopped in front of a familiar, old door. Like all the many others in this hall, it was just a plain door, made of darkly stained wood. But there was something special about this door. Upon it hung the silver stellaglyph of Karinael.

  Nuriel stood there in the hall for a few silent minutes. She hadn’t taken very much Ev, and during the hours she sat alone in that hall she had felt its warm embrace letting her go. Now it was all but gone. She traced her finger over Karinael’s stellaglyph as she contemplated taking just one more small hit. But she couldn’t do that. Somehow, taking Ev before seeing Karinael just didn’t seem right. Karinael was part of her old life. In many ways, a life that was happier. It was a life where she was ignorant of the outside world. It was a life where she thought training against wood and straw mock-ups of villagers was just boring and routine and held no emotional consequences. It was a life where she had sat with Karinael in this very room, dreaming of what the outside world was like; dreaming and laughing about all the new sights they would see when they made the Saints Caliber. So many dreams she had shared with Karinael; so many ideas of the adventures they would have as they set off to slay the Unbound and hunt down Infernals.

  Nuriel sighed. They had just been dreams. They had been pleasant dreams, but dreams nonetheless. Nuriel bit her lip and closed her eyes, her hand still on Karinael’s stellaglyph. If she took more Ev now, she’d be bringing the real world into those pleasant dreams, and that was something she dared not do. Dreaming with Karinael in this room had been a past life, and that past life was consigned to pleasant memory. She dared not contaminate it.

  Nuriel breathed deeply and knocked upon the door. She heard footsteps rush over and the steel bolt slide and then the door swung in. Karinael stood there, her deep, amber eyes and hair sparkling like gemstones in the gaslight of the hall. She smiled brightly and threw her arms around Nuriel. “It’s about time!”

  Nuriel returned the hug. “Sorry. It was a long meeting. I got held up.”

  “Come in!” said Karinael excitedly. “You have to tell me what’s going on!” She took Nuriel by the hand and more or less pulled her into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them. Karinael was out of all her armor, save for the unremovable breastplate around her chest and back. She had also taken the leather bodysuit off and changed it out for her more comfortable white robe.

  Karinael’s room was much how Nuriel remembered it. Like all the dorm rooms, it was a small, simple chamber with a single, narrow window and a couple gaslamps on the wall. There was a bed and a dresser to keep clothes and personal artifacts, a mirror on one wall with a sink and running water, and a tiny closet and storage area. Karinael was something of an artist and her walls were adorned with some of the paintings and drawings she had made. Most were nature scenes: forests and mountains or vast meadows with blue skies. They were things never seen here in Sanctuary upon Mount Empyrean, yet somehow Karinael had captured it all spot-on. Above Karinael’s bed was one of her earliest works. It had hung there ever since Nuriel could remember. It was a painting of her and Karinael upon a rocky, mountainous cliff overlooking vast wilderness. They stared out at Mount Empyrean, far off into the horizon. They both wore white, leather bodysuits, and they both wore Star-Armor and had swords upon their backs. Nuriel could remember all the days and nights they had spent together looking at that picture, wondering what their lives as Saints Calibers might be like. Nuriel closed her eyes and looked away.

  “So, what’s going on?” asked Karinael. She took Nuriel’s hand and led her over to her bed. She plopped down on the edge of it and patted the sheets next to her. “Come, sit and tell me all about it!”

  Nuriel looked at Karinael and forced a little smile. She sat down next to her.

  “Uh-oh, what’s wrong?” asked Karinael.

  Nuriel sighed. Karinael always could pick up when she was feeling down. Nuriel shook her head and looked down at the floor. “It’s nothing. Just a long day.”

  Nuriel felt Karinael’s hand rub the back of her breastplate. “Come on, out with it.”

  Nuriel breathed deep and looked at Karinael. Part of her wanted to just break down and tell Karinael that they had wasted their youths dreaming of a life that never existed. She wanted to tell Karinael about the burning villagers, about the arrogance and maliciousness of the Exalteds, and about the corruption and depravity. She wanted to tell Karinael that the biggest threat was not Unbounds and Infernals, but they themselves and the Exalteds and Kings they were forced to serve. And then, another part of her wanted to tell her about Celacia and Duroton. She wanted to tell her that she had her own Sanguinastrum; That she had come close to abandoning Aeoria, Sanctuary
and even Holy Father. There was just too much. Too many things she couldn’t tell her; couldn’t ever tell her. Nuriel rubbed her face into her hands, reconsidering her choice not to take anymore Ev.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Karinael, her voice now taking on an edge of deep concern. She turned on the bed and placed her hands on Nuriel’s shoulders. “What’s wrong, Nuriel? Are… Are you in trouble?”

  Nuriel sighed and looked at Karinael. “No… It’s just…” Nuriel sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Karinael rubbed Nuriel’s back. “You know,” said Karinael playfully. “There’s rumors you killed two Infernals all by yourself.”

  Nuriel looked up. Karinael was smiling at her.

  “Rumors that you totally kick the butt out of Apollyon out there…”

  Nuriel couldn’t help but smile herself now. “What other rumors?”

  “Well, let’s see,” said Karinael. “There’s the rumors that you and a bunch of other Saints fought against an Unbound.” Karinael paused. Then she said more softly, “And that your mentor, Isley, died in the fight.”

  Nuriel bit her lip and looked down. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She really wanted to tell Karinael everything, but she knew there was no way she could. She hated lying to her friend, even more than she hated lying to the Oracles and Sin Eaters. Unfortunately, Nuriel knew these were things she could never tell Karinael. Not only would it put herself into danger, but it would put Karinael into danger as well. Her actions might have already put Karinael into danger. Nuriel rubbed her arm. Already those pleasant dreams were beginning to mix with the bitter poison of reality.

  “Is it true?” asked Karinael.

  Nuriel didn’t look at her. She just nodded her head. She felt Karinael’s arms wrap around her and her body press against her’s.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Karinael. She kissed Nuriel on the head and held her close. “I heard Isley was very kind. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Nuriel shook her head.

  “Is…Is that what the Holy Few wanted to speak with you about?” asked Karinael.

  “More or less.” said Nuriel.