The Record of the Saints Caliber

by M. David White

  Sunlight hit her hard and she had to take a moment to raise her hand to her eyes. It was a cloudless morning and the sky was an endless expanse of blue in all directions. The sun was a blazing sphere of yellow and cast the ivory buildings and towers in its drowsy light. To her surprise, Karinael was running down the street toward her. At first Nuriel wasn’t sure it was her, but as she neared and passed into the shadow of a tower where the sunlight could not overpower Nuriel’s vision, those sparkling amber eyes and hair became unmistakable. She was in her white bodysuit and steel breastplate with bracers on her arms and legs. Her steel boots chimed on the star-metal road as she came running, and Nuriel noticed that she gripped a document in her hand.

  “Nuriel!” she yelled as she came sprinting up. Nuriel braced herself as her friend bowled into her, throwing her arms around her. “Nuriel!” she exclaimed again, her voice quavering. She pulled back and Nuriel could see tears streaming down her face. “Nuriel! I…I don’t know what to say!”

  Nuriel’s mind flopped over a few times. There was a part of her that was screaming at her that something was wrong. Nuriel rubbed her eyes, focusing on the warmth of the Ev. Her eyes went to the paper that Karinael clutched in her hand. “What’s going on?”

  Karinael’s hands trembled as she unfurled the document and held it up to Nuriel. She could hardly get her eyes focused on it, Karinael’s hands were shaking so badly. Still, the document was unmistakable. Nuriel herself had received the same thing less than a year ago. Amidst the unintelligible scrawls of writing, two things were quite clear. At the bottom of the page was the unmistakable signature of Holy Father followed by his own stellaglyph that looked like a crowned star. And at the center of the page, drawn large and bold, was Karinael’s stellaglyph in blood-red ink with a halo above it. There was only one time in a Saint’s life when they received a document with their stellaglyph in red with a halo drawn above it. Karinael had received her Call to Guard. She was being made a Saints Caliber.

  Karinael threw her arms around Nuriel again. “Stars above, Nuriel, how can I ever thank you?”

  Nuriel placed her arms around her friend, not quite able to wrap her mind around anything yet.

  “I’m so sorry about last night.” said Karinael, burying her head into Nuriel’s neck. Nuriel could feel her warm tears. “I hadn’t realized what you had done for me. I’m sorry, and I don’t know how to thank you.”

  Nuriel just stood there in her friend’s embrace, not saying anything. Her mind flopped for answers.

  Karinael pulled back and wiped at her eyes and sniffled. She looked Nuriel in the eyes. “I…I don’t know how to thank you. They delivered my Call to Guard to me this morning. They said that yesterday you recommended me to Holy Father. Nuriel… I…I don’t know what to say to you…” She laughed despite her tears.

  Nuriel forced a faint smile. She was legitimately happy to see her friend this overcome with joy, but even through the Ev, guilt and fear stripped any pleasure from this that Nuriel might feel. Deep down, Nuriel knew she had signed her friend over to death. Karinael didn’t have a strong enough Caliber to last a year out in the field. She likely didn’t even have the Caliber to don the Star-Armor. She’d put it on and immediately be consumed by it. Nuriel knew from her own experience the toll taken from donning Star-Armor for the first time. Nothing can prepare a Saint for it, and very few realize exactly how strong they have to shine their Caliber just to withstand it those first few days. It was one of the reasons only the most powerful of Templars ever moved on to Saints Caliber. Karinael’s Call to Guard was meant to be a death sentence. And Nuriel herself had given it.

  “Say something…” said Karinael, sniffing.

  But Nuriel couldn’t. She leaned in and embraced Karinael, hugging her tight.

  “Nuriel,” whispered Karinael softly. “You’re scaring me. Please say something.”

  Nuriel felt her heart drop into her stomach. She bit her lip and her hands balled into fists on Karinael’s back. She closed her eyes and felt some tears fall. She wanted to say something of comfort to her friend, but she couldn’t. Everything she wanted to say—it’ll be ok; I’ll be here for you; don’t worry; you’ll do fine—it all sounded fake. It all was fake, and she knew it. And if she said it aloud, Karinael would know it too.

  “Nuriel,” whispered Karinael, still in Nuriel’s arms, resting her cheek on Nuriel’s shoulder. Her fingers traced over Nuriel’s black breastplate. “I won’t be able to wear the Star-Armor, will I?”

  Nuriel bit her lip. She couldn’t open her eyes. She felt another tear fall off her cheek, but this one was not for Karinael, it was for herself. There might be a way for Karinael to survive the armor, but Nuriel would have to sacrifice everything she wanted.

  “Please say something to me.” whispered Karinael.

  Nuriel put her hand on the back of Karinael’s head. Then she said softly, “You’re going to put it on, and you’re going to be fine.”

  Karinael sniffled and pulled back from Nuriel. Her amber eyes glistened with tears. “I want you to know, that even if I can’t wear the armor, you’ve made me happy. Even if it kills me, you’ve made me happy. You’ve made my dream come true. Even if my Caliber isn’t strong enough for the armor, at least I’ll die knowing that we both saw our dream, even if mine was just for a moment.”

  Nuriel put her hands over her face. She tried not to cry, but tears fell anyway.

  Karinael moved Nuriel’s hands down. “Hey,” she said, looking at her, but all Nuriel could see was a blur of amber eyes and hair through her tears. “I mean it. No matter what, you’ve made me happier than I’ve been since you left. I…I don’t want to be here without you anymore. There’s nothing left for me here, just a lifetime of dealing with people like Geil. No matter what, I’ll be happy now.”

  Nuriel closed her eyes, squeezing the last tears from them. She sniffed and looked at Karinael. “You’re going to do fine, I promise you.”

  Karinael looked at the paper she gripped in her hand. “They said I’m going to be assigned to Jerusa. When I’m done apprenticing, they said I’ll be given to an Exalted named Leviathan Hydra. Jerusa…That’s where you were, right?”

  Nuriel felt sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes again, desperately willing herself not to break down. She nodded.

  “But…” said Karinael. “You’re moving on to Valdasia, right? They said that Holy Father was going to grant you Eremiticy.”

  Nuriel cupped her hands over her face. Eremiticy. That had become her new dream, and the Holy Few were going to destroy it, strip all her joy from it.

  There was a long pause and when Nuriel finally looked back at Karinael, Karinael said, “I’m going to apprentice with Saint Ovid of the Nine Days. They… They said you worked with him. Is…Is he nice?”

  Nuriel placed her hand on Karinael’s shoulder and forced a little smile. “I have to go talk to Holy Father now. But I promise you, it’s all going to be ok.”

  Karinael smiled softly at Nuriel. “I…I really don’t know how to thank you.”

  The words stung and Nuriel closed her eyes for a moment. Then she looked at Karinael and said, “I’ll be back. I’ll come see you when I’m done. I’m going to train you, and I’m going to make sure your Caliber is strong enough for the armor.”

  Karinael nodded. “Thank you, Nuriel. I… I love you, you know that, right?”

  Nuriel smiled genuinely. “I love you too, Karinael.” She leaned in and gave her one last hug. Part of Nuriel was aware that this hug held a certain finality to it. It was the last hug they would share that would still bear the love, dreams, hopes and friendship of the previous life. This would be the last of Nuriel’s pleasant memories with Karinael. No more would be forged with her. When next she would see Karinael, everything would be different. Everything would mix into this new life, into this terrible world that Nuriel had been living in.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  Nuriel didn’t know when she had started trembling, b
ut she guessed it was shortly after being let into the Holy Sanctum of the palace, the area where Holy Father resided. Though she could still feel the Ev warm within her body, she was nervous. She even contemplated taking more, but decided against it. She breathed deep and looked back at the windows. The view was tremendous, with hundred-foot tall windows overlooking all of Sanctuary, far below. The sunlight cascaded through them, throwing the shadows of the massive pillars between each window in diagonal lines across the great, cavernous hall she was waiting in. A red carpet ran the length of the hall and ended before a pair of sharply arched wooden doors that stood as high as the windows. Everything about this hall made Nuriel feel small and insignificant. But looking out the window to the city of Sanctuary spread out upon the mountaintop, with the vast tracks of the Rock Barrens and the woods and plains far beyond, made Nuriel wonder if everything was small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps it was the world that mattered, and not her or Holy Father or even Sanctuary.

  Nuriel placed her hand on the window and admired the view for several long minutes. Then a mild breeze swept through the hall and Nuriel turned her head. The pair of giant doors swung open just a crack, and a number of fluttering red robes appeared. Nuriel’s heart raced. She ran to the center of the carpet and stood there, her eyes looking intently. The six eerily tall, rigid Bishops floated out of the door in a spear-point formation. The enormity of the doors and hall and everything in it made them seem to move very slowly. Nuriel could hear her own heart beating and could hear her own breaths. Her eyes focused beyond them, and amongst the red robes and black masks of the Bishops Nuriel caught the sight of white gowns and an old face.

  All at once Nuriel felt weak in the legs. She knelt down and stood on her knees, her hands clasped over her chest. As the group came closer, Nuriel could see Holy Father coming behind the Bishops. He walked slowly, using a golden scepter crowned with a crystalline star of Aeoria. He was in a gown of white and gold and he wore the mitre crown of white gold on his head.

  As the Bishops approached Nuriel they broke off to her left, standing in a line along the length of the red carpet. She could now see Holy Father clearly; see his face clearly. It was wrinkled with age, yet did not sag like those who carry great burdens. Despite his age, his face seemed to hold a youthful light, and his smile was intoxicating as he looked out with those stunning, silver eyes of his. They were more silver and vibrant than any Saint’s; more warm and sincere than even Isley’s. They peered out at the world from beneath great, bushy, white eyebrows, and then his smile brightened even more as they found her.

  Nuriel felt her heart race and her stomach burn, her hand went to her mouth. He looked the same as he had that day she received her Call to Guard. He felt the same, even from this distance. She didn’t know why, but tears welled in her eyes.

  “Nuriel,” he said brightly as he came. His pace quickened, his feet shuffling beneath his long gowns. He looked upon her, smiling with his entire face as he came. He extended his hand toward her. “Nuriel, it’s so good to see you again. Come…come here my darling.”

  Nuriel bolted to her feet and raced to him. She threw her arms around him, and she could feel an armored breastplate beneath his robes, but despite that, his body felt small and frail. Yet somehow, he still held a powerful presence that was comforting and pleasing.

  Nuriel felt his arms wrap around her and embrace her. She was expecting to feel the warm compassion she had remembered, but something wasn’t right. Nuriel’s Ev-clouded mind flopped, and she felt herself suddenly growing very cold.

  “Nuriel my love,” he said quietly into her ear. “You won’t need that here.”

  At first Nuriel was confused, and she shuddered in his arms as warmth left her body. But then she realized what was happening. Her mind was suddenly flooded with fear and shame and regret as the Ev vanished from her system. She started to panic and wanted to rip herself from Holy Father’s arms, but then his embrace strengthened and his soft voice whispered into her ear, “Don’t be afraid, child. I know what happened in the long, dark hours of your Guard. All is forgiven.”

  And then Nuriel found herself consumed only by his embrace, only by his touch. And it was real. More real than anything she had felt in a long, long time. Within his arms she was consumed by a sense of being loved and she felt a warmth more fulfilling than Ev could ever provide. In this whole world where things were terrible and cruel, where Nuriel had been lost in and devoured by, where she had no parents to seek comfort from, she finally felt home. She finally felt truly loved. She finally felt like her old self. Admael’s arms rubbed up and down her back, and Nuriel felt as if all the burdens and sins she carried were being washed from her body. Nuriel didn’t know why, and she couldn’t help it, but tears rained off her cheeks.

  “Come, my precious darling, don’t be sad. You’re home now, and you are loved despite anything and everything.” said Holy Father. “My love, like Aeoria’s, is eternal and does not waver.”

  Nuriel fell to her knees, resting her cheek on Admael’s stomach, unable to contain her tears. She closed her eyes, her entire body drinking in his presence. “I missed you so much.”

  She felt his soothing hand gently embrace the back of her head. “It’s ok, child. You’re safe and you’re loved.”

  Nuriel’s hands tightened around his gown. She looked up at him, and he was just a blur beyond the edge of her tears. “I’ve done so many bad things,” she croaked.

  “Shh,” said Admael, drawing Nuriel to her feet and hugging her head to his chest. “I know. I know. But love is patient and forgives all.” He looked down at her, his face holding a smile that was tender and warm. Nuriel felt his hands slip into hers. They felt so fragile, but yet seemed to contain a power—a Caliber—like nothing she had ever felt before. He helped her to her feet.

  Nuriel sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Despite his age, Holy Father was still just slightly taller than Nuriel. She looked up at him. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice sharp from trying to contain her emotions. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”

  He hugged her to his chest. “Shh,” he said quietly, his warm breath in her ear. “It’s not safe to talk here.” he whispered.

  Nuriel’s eyes flicked to the side. She had forgotten about the Bishops. They stood tall and rigid, their featureless black masks unmoving, looking coldly out into the hall. Upon their waists she saw those swords again. They were sheathed in leather as red as fresh blood, their handles and hilts made of metal blacker than Star-Armor.

  “Leave us,” said Admael.

  All six heads turned to him in unison.

  “Leave us,” he said again, this time more loudly, flicking his hand as if shooing away some pests.

  All six heads tilted ever so subtly. The six Bishops turned and seemed to float away down the hall, disappearing one by one through those enormous doors.

  After they had gone, Admael looked down at Nuriel and smiled softly. “Nuriel, my sweet little bird,” he said warmly. “You flew away and I thought I might never see you again. I have missed you so much.”

  Nuriel sniffled even as she smiled. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  “No, Nuriel,” said Holy Father, his eyes scanning her face. The thin wrinkles of skin at the corners of his silver eyes were turned up in a smile. Even those thick eyebrows of his seemed to beam at her. “Thank you for coming home to me. It’s so rare my children come home.”

  Nuriel forced a smile. She steeled herself to confess everything to him in this moment, and her stomach burned as she willed herself to speak. “I… I’ve done bad things, Father. I… I need to tell you—”

  Admael placed an ancient finger to his lips. “Shh.” He smiled at her. “Let us enjoy our time together.” He took her hand and led her over to one of the tall windows. They stood there in silence for a short while, looking out over Sanctuary, her hand in his. Nuriel simply enjoyed the sensation of his hand. It was like holding the hand of a father she never had. It was comforti
ng, and in this moment she felt no obligations to anybody or anything. She was simply enjoying the moment, and she never wanted it to end.

  “It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it. Up here, on top of the world, where nothing seems to matter.” said Holy Father at last. His voice was soft and seemed subdued by a sort of sadness. “I’ve been here so long. I forget how much time has passed. It feels like forever.”

  Nuriel squeezed his hand, still wanting nothing more than to enjoy her hand in his, but there was something somber in his voice that threatened their solitude together.

  “From these windows I have watched the stars blink out, one by one.” he said, almost as if speaking to himself. His voice was quiet, pained. “One by one. One by one. Like old friends stepping out of my life. Like my own children being let go.”

  Nuriel looked up at him and touched his cheek. “Father?”

  “I’m so tired,” he whispered, still looking out the window, but his silver eyes didn’t seem to be seeing anything at all. “I’ve been here for such a long age. Only a little more to go, for better or for worse.”

  “Father?”

  Admael turned his head and looked softly down upon Nuriel. He forced a tender little smile. “I’ve seen everyone go, Nuriel. I’ve seen the Goddess fall. I’ve seen Saints fall. I’ve seen my children leave and never return.”

  Nuriel looked into his eyes. “Father, I’m so sorry…”

  “You came back to me, Nuriel.” he said. “You have no idea what that means to me.”

  “Of course I came back,” said Nuriel. “I could never leave you.”

  He smiled at her. “I know, Nuriel. I’ve always known that about you.” He turned and looked back out the window. “But out there, beyond the vast horizon, things are different, aren’t they?”