90^th of Dusk, 102

Marcus Soter was staring at his boots when the door to the Tairos Hall opened. The keeper he had met the last time he entered greeted him with a smile. “Sentinel,”—he bowed—“shall I take you to Father Kallo? I warn you, though, he has a visitor; he may be busy.”

“Visitor?”

“Yes. He came in very early this morning and hasn’t left since. They should be finishing lunch by now.”

“Has the Archbishop been inside since morning?”

The keeper nodded. “Well—yes—he came late last night…if you want, I can bring you his secretary—the one you met a day or two ago—who can help you.”

Marcus scanned the area behind the keeper. “That works.”

“Right this way, sir,” the keeper said, then began to walk.

“Where would the Archbishop be?” Marcus asked, looking around the vast indoor area. It was an ornately decorated interior, with stone structures as the support structure, while wood was the main material. Three hallways stretched out from the front, left, and right sides of the building—each well lit by candle lamps. Several workers were walking about, acknowledging the Sentinel’s presence with a nod of the head or even a verbal acknowledgment.

The keeper led the Sentinel up a stairway that curled around the walls onto the second floor. “The dining hall is at the edge of the south wing,” he said, pointing towards the front hallway as they ascended. “I will let him know you’re here after I leave you with Lady Venia, and he will meet you in her office.” 

They reached the second floor. Certainly not as spacious as the first, it had many more windows overlooking the city enshrouded in clouds, gray light pouring through. The keeper led the Sentinel through the great wooden doors he had been through once before, into a moderately spacious office, where a young woman sat at her desk. Another set of double doors lay in front of them in this office, which would lead to the Archbishop’s study.

Venia, the Archbishop’s secretary, looked up from her book. She was a young woman with deep, brown hair, tucked behind her head in a bun. Her gray eyes were slanted upwards, leading to a rather cold countenance. When she saw the Sentinel, she gave an indifferent nod. “Father Kallo is not in the office.”

“H-he knows, m-m’Lady,” the keeper nervously responded. “He’s going to wait here for him...if that’s all right with you, m’Lady.”

The secretary sighed, visibly irritated. She closed her book and pushed it to the side. Venia motioned to a chair in front of her desk with her hand. Marcus walked over and sat down in it.

The keeper bowed from the doorway. “I will alert Father Kallo of your presence.” He closed the doors in front of him.

Venia pulled out a separate book from under her desk and set it on the table. She opened the ledger, then flipped through it, before landing near the middle of the pages. She looked at the window behind Marcus, then at him. The Sentinel smiled uncomfortably.

After another sigh, Venia spoke. “Father Kallo has to leave at sunset for the Carwin’s Meadery. Will that be enough time for you?”

Marcus turned around, looking outside the window. It was midday, and sunset was not far off. Maybe he ought to begin his business with the Secretary, in case there wasn’t enough time. “No, I need the Archbishop’s presence at the guardhouse, either tonight or early tomorrow.”

The Secretary scanned the page. “Well, tonight won’t work. He can come in tomorrow morning. At the guardhouse, right?”

“That’s right.”

Venia took her quill off its stand, dipped it in the inkwell, and began writing on the page. After a quick couple of seconds, she finished. “I have it down. His carriage usually comes around daybreak, so he should be there a little after the Dawn Bell.”

“Thank you,” said Marcus.

Venia nodded lethargically. “Anything else y—” The sound of the door opening cut off her sentence. Marcus rose from his chair and turned around.

In came the Archbishop, followed by a familiar face, the scarred, bald man who greeted Marcus at the doorstep of the Merchant’s Guild. The man Marcus called Villam.

“Sentinel,” Ovince Kallo said, sparing a look at his secretary, “let’s talk inside.”

Marcus glanced at Villam, who was staring back at him with an unreadable expression. The Archbishop opened the double doors and entered his office. Marcus let Villam enter after him, then followed, shutting the doors behind him.

“May I ask what this”—Marcus moved his finger between the two of them—“is about?”

Archbishop Kallo walked over to his seat and sat while Villam stopped by his desk and turned to the Sentinel. “I’m here to make sure he doesn’t misbehave,” the bald blood mage said.

Marcus took a step forward. “You’re pushing my patience with you.”

Villam looked at him with indifference. “Does it look like your patience is weighing on my conscience? Baron spoke to you already, you should know your place.”

A splash of irritation rushed through Marcus’ psyche. It wasn’t everyday that a commoner could disrespect a Sentinel and get out of it, much less a blood mage. He was passive with Baron because he was in his territory…so what was stopping him from putting this fool in his place? The only people in this room were him, the Archbishop, and this…grunt.

“Most would think twice before disrespecting a Sentinel,” Marcus snapped, “we’re in a house of Aemir, not your little guild house. I should cut you down for your words.”

Villam cackled, finally taking a seat on a chair set beside a table. He postured his left ankle atop his right thigh, sitting back. “Do it, then.”

Marcus clenched his fist. My sword is right here.

Villam narrowed his gaze. “I’ve ran into many people throughout my life…whether it’s someone who’s refused to pay their dues, someone who’s causing issues for our guild, or in the rare case where someone finds out who we really are—I can tell when someone has it and when they don’t. You don’t have it. Frankly, you strike me as a coward”—Marcus reached for his blade, gripping the hilt in its sheath. Villam eyed his hand, then returned his gaze to Marcus—“you can do that…but we all know it’s not going anywhere. I don’t know who appraised you, or who thought you would be a good addition to the Sentinels…but you put shame on them.” He laughed. “Maybe the Arch-Warden was drunk when he appointed you.”

Marcus unsheathed his blade fully, and started towards the calm blood mage.

“Stop!” Kallo shouted, eyes wavering. “Not here.”

The Sentinel’s steps ceased right before the bald mage. Villam grinned. “Good boy.”

Marcus snapped. An instant later his fist crashed into Villam’s jaw, sending the man to the floor. The two fell to the ground, Marcus securing control on top. He struck Villam again, this time feeling the blood mage’s face harden unnaturally.

“Enough!” the Archbishop rose his voice substantially. The double door’s opened from behind Marcus. The rage gripped Sentinel gathered his emotions, realizing how defaming this position was. Venia, the secretary, stood at the door. She eyed Marcus with disdain. “Should I call the guards?” she asked.

“Get off of me before I gut you,” Villam seethed.

Marcus took a deep breath, before standing up. The blood mage rose after, wiping blood from his mouth. He walked for the doors, heavily bumping his shoulder on Marcus’ as he passed him. The Sentinel stumbled slightly.

“No, that’s all right, Venia,” Ovince said nervously. “Sentinel…it’s best you leave.”

“Show me to the bathroom, woman,” Villam snapped, exiting the room.

Marcus watched as the blood mage left the room. With the little time he had, he turned to the Archbishop. “I spoke to your secretary. You are to meet with us at the guard house tomorrow at dawn.”

The Archbishop paused. “He may be with me.”

“What? How long is he going to shadow you for? 

Kallo motioned towards the door. Marcus turned around and rushed to the door, holding it open slightly to check the outside. He turned back towards the Archbishop and nodded that it was clear.

“Till the 92^nd. He’s staying with me till then.”

Marcus bit his lip in frustration. “I need authority over the guards…give me a letter. That’ll do then. Find some time to wr—”

Villam forced the door open, pushing Marcus back. His mouth was now clean. The blood mage walked over to his previous seat, turned it back up, and then sat down again. “Well. I think the Archbishop already told you to leave, didn’t he?” Villam said. His air of confidence had returned. Marcus glanced at Ovince Kallo, making sure he knew what to do. He opened his mouth to speak, then decided against it, leaving through the double doors.