Crimson and Gold

Saving Beatrice turned out to be more beneficial than anyone anticipated.

The substance extracted from the girl’s body caused a breakthrough in Lysandra’s research, allowing her to synthesize a vaccine. The substance aimed to prevent one’s cells from merging with the drug’s venom.

Albeit it wasn’t able to cure those already infected, stopping new Husks from appearing was a significant step towards ending the spread.

Beatrice’s case proved, however, that under certain—very particular—conditions it was possible to reverse the changes in already infected patients. It was impossible for them to personally treat every single one of the soon-to-be Husks, but there were other possible solutions.

And so, the Princess and Zahra started working on finding a sustainable treatment that could be employed on a large scale.

In the meantime, Saria was busy following a lead given by Beatrice.

During her conversation after waking up, the girl revealed where she got the drug from.

It was given to her by a man she met during a secret gathering. The man’s description Beatrice gave was too vague to be useful, save for the fact he was a mage—but there was an important detail she shared.

She overheard his conversation with someone, where they mentioned the Grand Library and ‘not making the same mess as last time’. The ‘last time’, as Beatrice explained, referred to a huge fire that broke out at an official’s villa a couple of months back, which took his and his wife’s life, leaving only their daughter alive.

This piece of information immediately piqued Saria’s interest, as she knew exactly what fire they were discussing. It was the first place Lysandra sent her to when they started working together. It was also the place where she encountered the suspicious wizard, who almost killed her with the explosion.

They never ran into that man again, but Saria never stopped thinking about it. Finally, after months of silence, she had her first lead about this person’s identity.

Collecting as many details as she could from Beatrice, Saria decided to investigate the aforementioned gathering.

While the girl didn’t want to admit it, it later came to light that it wasn’t just an innocent social meeting, but an event organized by the so-called ‘Children of Ardor’. It was a relatively unknown cult centered around Nêzeri, an ancient Underworld Goddess of pleasure, pain, and fertility.

Unfortunately, after investigating, Saria found out that another meeting wasn’t going to happen for a little while longer, so she had no other choice but to let the case rest for the time being.

Nevertheless, there wasn’t much time for her to loiter around, as soon after she received a message from Tally, informing her that his master was ready to meet.

***

“You have to be more specific. From the top of my head, there are at least twenty prophecies talking about Aelius or referring to it in one way or another.”

Saria was sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair in a study, where the bookcases and scroll holders filled every centimeter of free space. Books, papers, and even clay tablets were piled in every corner.

It was a miracle that there was enough room to fit in a sturdy desk and two chairs. Although each of those surfaces was also buried under texts of various medium and origins.

Tally’s master turned out to be a middle-aged, lanky man with a complexion as pale and dry as his treasured papers. He wore small circular spectacles on his hooked nose and a coarse, patched-up tunic cinched at the waistline without care with only a piece of rope.

If her friend had never told her beforehand, Saria would have never believed the hunched man sitting on the other side of the desk belonged to a renowned noble house.

“How many of them would be of special interest to, say, the Emperor?” she asked, focusing back on the conversation.

Even though Tally vouched for his master and the man didn’t give her any bad feelings, Saria was reluctant to share too much information, since it was directly related to Lysandra.

“Let’s see…” The scholar tapped his pointy chin with his finger. “There are the Karteian prophecies talking about the war between Shahriz and Aelius. The Prophecy of the Silver Sun foretells the union between Faolán and Aelius. The Prophecy of Ida, warning about some disaster involving magic…” he listed, while staring intently at the ceiling, as if everything he was saying was written right above their heads.

Saria couldn’t help but glance up, only to find a stain caused by a leaking roof.

“Oh, and of course, there’s the infamous Prophecy of Kirke.”

The sudden change in the pitch reverted her attention to the scholar. “Why is it infamous?”

The man giggled, fixing the spectacles on his nose. “Because if Octavius is really interested in it, then he might be playing with fire.”

Judging by his reaction, the comment was intended to be a clever joke. Unfortunately, it proved to be too ‘clever’ for his guest, who had yet to comprehend which part of it was laugh-worthy.

Seeing he didn’t get the expected reaction, the scholar smacked his thin lips in disappointment and continued talking.

“Many kings and emperors in the past became obsessed with it. Some were even driven mad by it. Some say that even the Sun-King Aelius was interested in it.”

“What is so special about it?” Saria asked.

“Well… the original text was lost centuries ago. The only source of information about it nowadays is mentions by other scholars and philosophers of the past.” The scholar leaned back in his chair with a solemn expression.

The loss of direct sources was one of the greatest tragedies for a devout researcher like himself.

“It’s hard to tell how much of what was said was real and how much was merely a political fear-mongering,” he said, then hanged his voice, pondering over something. “But, if we assume it was true, then it’s no surprise they feared it so much.”

The man leaned against the desk, nearly lying flat on top of it, and looked at the red-eyed woman with wide eyes. “After all, it foretells the return of Ažiž,” he whispered, barely containing the excitement in his voice.

The room fell silent for a few moments. The scholar was still looking intently at his guest while holding his breath in anticipation.

After a few long, suffocating minutes, he saw her lips flutter.

“Who?” Saria asked, staring at him with a blank expression.

The Scholar sighed and fell back into his chair, deflated.

“Ažiž, the mythical Fire Demon born from the marriage between Sun-King Aelius and Ebreza the Primal Flame. According to the myths, Ebreza was one of the five Great Rulers of Azar. She’s believed to have conquered over half of the continent and only ever bowed to one person—Aelius.” The man recited flatly the most compact—and soulless—summary he could think of.

Saria frowned. “I still don’t see what’s so dangerous about Ažiž.”

“That’s the interesting part,” the scholar sat straight once more. The gleam of passion returned to his dull grayish blue eyes.

“Ebreza is believed to be born of Fire itself. An utter nonsense if you ask me. She was more likely a very talented mage.” The man waved his hand. “Not important right now. What is important is that Ebreza wasn’t an Emer, an Elf, and she felt inferior to them, hence her desire to conquer.

“Various myths mention that Ažiž inherited that fiery nature after her mother. Some take it quite literally, claiming she was a Fire Demon. After her mother was killed in battle by Aelius, after her rebellion, Ažiž swore not to rest until she kills every single one of the Emer and their children, which is us, humans.”

According to various sources, the Emer—an old Aelian word for the Elves—were an ancient race inhabiting the continent hundreds of thousands of years before the appearance of humans. Some scholars directly named the Elves as the progenitors of humankind.

Due to their extraordinary magical capabilities and power, they later started being worshiped as gods by their less ‘gifted’ kin.

The Aelian Pantheon was predominantly Emer, with only Laurentina being the only human known to stand among the gods as their equal.

Unfortunately, the knowledge about the Elves and other races was lost to time over the millennia. At present, only Emer and Azar were recognized by name, with almost no information about the latter.

“Alright,” Saria nodded, digesting everything she learned so far. “How is it related to my question?”

A cunning smile crossed the scholar’s face, reminiscent of a villain about to deliver the most dramatic and pompous speech right before the final act.

“Because, according to the prophecy,” he said. “Ažiž is going to be reborn out of one of Aelius’ children. And as you know—”

“Octavius is one of his descendants,” Saria finished the sentence, struck by a sudden realization.

And through him, so is Lysandra…