"Aki!"
"Aki!!!"
Aki wakes to his own name.
He's tangled in thin sheets, skin slick with a feverish sweat. The room is dim. He peels off his shirt, the fabric sticking to his back like a second skin.
He doesn't have a change of clothes, so he cracks a washing potion—the chemical scent's sharp and cold— and scrubs the grime from his gear.
He swaps his trousers for shorts and waits for the dampness to pull from the fabric.
Evening has settled over Riverstone.
"How long was I out?" He mutters to the empty room then starts the routine. Forty minutes of penance; sit-ups, push-ups, squats.
He's mid-handstand, blood rushing to his head, when a voice cuts through the quiet. "What are you doing?"
Aki's balance snaps. He hits the floor with a dull thud, "Ahh! Dammit."
"I'm sorry!" Awia is there, moving toward him with that same quiet hurry.
"Don't worry," Aki says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm fine. Just startled."
She gestures to the small washroom. "The bath is ready. Take it. I'll be back."
The water is the first real luxury he's had in weeks. Potions clean the skin, but they don't wash away the weight of the journey. He emerges feeling human again, dressed and crossing the balcony to find Awia. She's staring out at the moon. Behind them, Merlin is already a snoring beast in the guest bed.
"What is this place, anyway?" Aki asks, leaning on the railing.
"The Church of Light," she says.
"You're going to have to do better than that."
Awia turns, the moonlight catching the gold beads in her hair. "We have history. If you haven't heard of us, you must be from the Capital. It's the only place that pretends we don't exist."
"That makes sense," Aki admits.
"It started a century ago," she says, her voice dropping into a practiced tone. "The Holy Oracle manifested Divine Mana when the world needed it most."
"Divine Mana?"
"Faith is physical. We use it to heal, to purify. The Benevolent Arts." She pauses, her expression tightening. "But there's a price. Once the Divine takes hold, it overrides everything else. You lose your affinity. You can't use your own magic anymore."
"No druids?"
"Only for those with the gift. They become priests, priestesses, and paladins. The ones without the gift stay as clerics— they keep their sorcery, but they serve the Light." She looks back at the courtyard. "The power usually shows up in our teens. That's when the training starts."
"Don't they feel left out?" Aki asks. "The ones who don't get the 'gift'?"
Awia shrugs. "There's enough work to go around. No one ever sits idle."
They begin to walk, their footsteps echoing along the stone walkway that circles the courtyard.
"What's the goal?" Aki asks. "The bottom line."
"The Oracle wants to help the continent. To be better than the 'Old Church'— the one that came before the Prohibition."
Aki waves a hand at the massive stone arches and the fine wood trim. "And who pays for the 'better' church?"
"Donations," she says. "Barons looking for a clean conscience. A small slice of the Council's budget, though they're stingy with it. It funds the units, the libraries, the orphanages. We take in the kids who have nowhere else to go."
"Impressive," Aki says. He looks at her sideways. "So you enjoy it here?"
"I grew up here," she answers quickly. "The Church gave me everything."
Aki stops walking. "That's not what I asked. Do you enjoy it?"
Awia stays silent for a long moment. When she speaks, the 'priestess mask' slips. "Yes. But, I feel like there's more to see. More to learn than what's written in these books."
"Trust me," Aki says, his voice low. "I get that."
"Morning is coming," Awia says, pulling back into herself. "I have work to do." She starts to walk away, then pauses, looking back over her shoulder with a small, genuine smile.
"It was nice talking to you."
"Yeah," Aki says to her back. "You too."
He watches her go, hands in his pockets. He lets out a short, dry laugh— the first one in a long time.
The morning arrives with the sound of bells and the chatter of children. Aki is already dressed, his long black coat buttoned against the morning chill. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning on his staff. Merlin rumbles awake like an old engine.
"Ugh. When did you get up, boss?"
"Hours ago. When Lee can stand, we're hitting the road." Aki taps Merlin's armored shoulder.
"Alright, boss." Merlin shuffles toward the bathroom.
Outside, the Church is a machine in motion. Priests are herding children into classrooms. An elderly man with a wrinkled-looking face approaches Aki.
"Good morning, Mr. Aki. I am Elder Milan."
"Morning, sir." They shake— Milan's grip is surprisingly firm.
"How is the stay?"
"My people are alive. I'm very satisfied."
"Wonderful," Milan says. He begins walking Aki toward the gate. "Perhaps you can help our young ones with some shopping today? A bit of heavy lifting for the church farm?"
Aki sighs. "What are we buying?"
"You'll see."
The market is a sea of noise. Aki plays the pack servant— hauling heavy sacks of grain and farm supplies while Awia and a young priest named Xi haggle over meat and fish
Aki grunts, "These bags are heavy."
"Lifting is what men are for," Awia lets out a chuckle.
Aki wanders off toward the oddity stalls while they finish the groceries. A man with missing teeth and a desperate glint in his eye holds up a tarnished lamp. "Real magic! Ancient stuff!" the seller barks. "Make a wish, change your life!"
"How much?" Aki asks.
"Twenty gold. A steal for a man of your stature."
Aki tosses him the coins. The man grabs them, his yellow teeth flashing, before he vanishes into the crowd.
"You just got scammed," Xi appears at Aki's elbow with a look of disappointment.
"What? He said it was a wish-lamp."
"People say whatever it takes to eat, Aki," Xi sighs.
"It's a piece of brass, plus it's fake."
Aki stuffs the lamp into his bag, "I can feel it. It has to be authentic."
"Whatever you say, boss."
"Where next?" Aki asks, looking at Awia.
"Back to the church," she says. "Your friend should be awake. It's time to go." They turn back toward the white-and-yellow spire.