"You are not of our faith," Sir Nicolas said. "If you wish to complete the engravings, do so with another. I will not compromise my truth."
"Thank you. I can understand that my request was selfish."
"I am glad you understand. It was difficult to work in earnest on my current project when your little experintal project was always in my mind."
Kazi threw on the cloak, the end of it hanging close to his ankles. Almost imdiately, he could feel the increase in magic.
"Wind..."
"Correct. That is the aspect of Hanuman embedded deep in the divine seedling you gave . Like the wind, it will always follow you. And, if your soul is powerful enough, it will mold abilities around you."
"So asking for my hair and blood wasn’t just for show," Kazi joked.
"Indeed. Blood and hair are the recipe for establishing strong connections."
Kazi clenched his fist. This felt amazing. He stepped back and the cloak, despite being close to his ankles, were attuned with him and got out of the way.
"I told him to add that," Phillip chid in. "Thought like you looked the type to trip over your feet."
Not really but...
"I appreciate it."
Feeling a deep connection with the cloak, he raised a hand and found that one edge went over and followed. Kazi blinked.
"Well, well, well, look at that! It’s alive!" Phillip laughed.
"That is an old trick from my predecessor," Sir Nicolas added. "He was inspired by the magic carpets of the orients. I thought you may appreciate it. You appear nimble on your feet and this will bolster your strikes."
"You’re quite observant."
"I am the Grand Draper. I can grasp the abilities and personality of any man with ti. Now, any questions?"
The Grand Draper was busy with work. Understandable. Kazi eyed the wall tapestries and the Second Heavenly War. He ntioned a predecessor too. "You have been around for a while, Sir Nicolas," he stated while fully turning to the tapestries.
"I have. I have been here since the turn of the century."
So 100 HE. Kazi doubted he knew anymore about Jack than Phillip. It didn’t hurt to ask though.
"Jack the Ripper has made a huge ss for you then."
"Pfft. I went through the Second Heavenly War. The armours I made then were better."
"h, agree to disagree," Phillip chid in.
"Nonsense." Kazi shared a smile with the older man. "A master could never grow rusty."
"You two sure have big mouths." Sir Nicolas rolled his eyes. "Now, any relevant questions?"
"I was just getting there, my bad. I wanted to ask if you made cloaks for the Holy Lights prior to the Great Schism."
"I was a Squire then. The Grand Draper before , my master, forged those cloaks. Why?"
"Only curious. What was the criteria to beco a Holy Light anyway?"
"The Holy Lights were equal in rank and authority to the Marshals, though separate in function. They were the select few that were granted the Warrior of Light Class. Ignatius of Loyola, Alexander Nevsky, Fyodor Ushakov, and many more were of that group. They communed with God and brought miracles to us. They were our strongest warriors."
"I used to be a ntor of sorts for the Lights," Phillip added. "I had the class, though I did not have the skill to navigate through the Heavenly Tower to use it in combat. You could call a Man of Light rather than a Warrior of Light." Phillip chuckled. "Those were good tis."
"But they betrayed us and the good tis have ended," Sir Nicolas said swiftly.
"You wallow too deeply in their betrayal. Learn to let go. We are all of the sa faith, Grand Draper."
Sir Nicolas glared up at him. "A traitor is a traitor, Father Phillip."
"A traitor is indeed a traitor," Kazi agreed. "I presu they even stowed away with the unique weapons and crests that the Templars gifted them?"
"Indeed they did," Sir Nicolas said. "Warriors of Light...Saints...how can one call themselves as such when they steal and betray? When they tear us apart and defy Christ’s will of community?"
"Very true. Many pursue freedom but at the cost of goodness," Kazi goaded.
"To be good is to be one together," Sir Nicolas declared. "It is the principle my master most believed in. It is a principle I carry with ."
"And that you have passed on to your squires," Kazi said. "I really have nothing but respect for you, Sir Nicolas."
Kazi didn’t want to push his luck too far. Sir Nicolas was busy and his fingers curled, ready to talk but also ready to work. Sir Nicolas liked Kazi. He didn’t like him that much though. So if he couldn’t ask about Jack, what else was left?
"One last question. I was doing so reading that I’m hoping you shed so light on. Information on the Chaotic Era, the ti before the Heavenly Gas was properly established, is scarce. I get that. And yet...there’s a single na that seems to pop every now and then. It gets scrubbed, returns, and then cos back."
Phillip turned toward him. The squires that had been hamring away stopped. Kazi did not need to say it.
"The Kingslayer."
Sir Nicolas spoke the na into existence and the air felt tight.
"Do not speak that na. For your own sake." That was not Sir Nicolas—it was Phillip. For the first ti since he t him, his expression had darkened. "It has been almost a hundred years. Please let it be forgotten by ti."
No na, no family, no history. Nothing of the Kingslayer appeared aside from his deeds. According to the Hall of Players, his last appearance was during the 1603 Heavenly Gas—or 83 HE. His last victory.
Philip Romolo Neri died in 1595. He saw the Kingslayer.
Whether it was Sir Nicolas or Saint Phillip, Kazi saw no way anyone would tell him. The laugh wrinkles on the Saint’s face turned to pain. His fetching eyes turned dark. A deep, seering pain of mories took over. He grimaced, scowled, and then looked away, wording a prayer.
Out of respect, Kazi did not ask again.
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