In a reception room isolated from the prying eyes of the court, the two sat opposite each other across a polished sandalwood desk. Lucia tilted the gold-trimd bone china teapot, pouring a stream of golden-red tea that swirled into a brilliant vortex in the bottom of Miquella's cup. He handed the tea—filled to precisely seven-tenths—to the boy-saint. Miquella took it with a soft word of thanks, the steam curling around his calm, unreadable face.
For a long minute, Miquella simply watched the fluctuating surface of the water. Lucia did not press him, sipping his own tea in the comfortable silence.
"After I finished suppressing Malenia's rot this afternoon, I heard that Priestess Lansseax had returned to her temple," Miquella said, his voice finally breaking the quiet. "Coincidentally, the informants I keep outside the palace sent word. I think there is information there you might want to hear."
Lucia set his cup down, his focus sharpening. He had been worried about his sister's sudden departure, but as a newcor with no established network in Leyndell, he was effectively blind. Miquella's offer was a lifeline. "Please, tell ."
Miquella didn't hesitate. "While you were in seclusion, the outside world did not remain still. A coordinated boycott against the Ancient Dragon Temple has begun across the dynasty. It is directed by high-ranking nobles who are using low-level churches to provoke conflicts over missionary rights and the affiliation of believers."
"As you know," Miquella continued, "many commoners do not have a rigid affiliation. They seek healing from the Erdtree and training from the Dragons. They honor the Erdtree in life but might choose the Ancient Dragon rites in death. It has always been a matter of personal choice—until now."
"The instigators are forcing commoners to choose one side. They are threatening to withhold Incantations from those who attend Dragon sermons and using hired warriors to provoke Ancient Dragon Knights into 'honor duels' designed to injure and humiliate them. In the Altus Plateau alone, dozens of these incidents have occurred in the last few days. It is a national trend, inciting a split between the two faiths."
Lucia let out a cold, sharp laugh. "Leyndell to Dectus is a day's ride at a gallop. I've been an Empyrean for less than a week, yet the unrest is already organized and widespread. These people aren't even trying to hide their hand anymore."
Miquella nodded. To move information and resources this quickly, they must have used the Royal Portal Network. Only the most powerful families in the capital possessed the wealth and influence to commandeer such assets. The 'culprits' were practically shouting their identities from the rooftops.
"The nobles of Leyndell have always had a subtle resentnt toward the Temple," Miquella explained carefully. "Or rather, toward anything that stands outside the Golden Order. Caria, Farum Azula, the Misbegottens, the On... they see them all as obstacles."
"I see," Lucia said, leaning back. "To them, the dragons are just Ons with wings. Stronger, more troubleso, but still... an impurity."
Miquella flinched slightly at the word 'On,' a flicker of bitterness crossing his delicate features. "I didn't expect you to know that term so well."
"In recent years," Miquella sighed, "the Fundantalism of the Golden Order has begun to replace the original Erdtree doctrines. The New Faction nobles, empowered by the Carian wars, want more drastic asures against anything 'non-Golden.' Your appointnt as an Empyrean broke the balance. They cannot defy the Greater Will's oracle, so they strike at the Temple to weaken the power you might eventually wield."
Lucia remained calm. "They are unwilling to accept an Empyrean with no golden blood. They want to ensure that even if I am a 'candidate,' I have no foundation to stand on."
"Exactly," Miquella said, looking relieved at Lucia's composure. "But do not worry for Lansseax. Those currently in the field are pawns. The true power players are still wary of her reputation from the war. She will suppress the unrest within days. I only ca to tell you because I feared you might act impulsively if you found out later."
"I appreciate it," Lucia said sincerely. "Being a stranger here, I would have been in the dark much longer if not for you."
They walked back to the courtyard, the evening breeze carrying the scent of flowers. They found Malenia teasing the little fox, Shirley, with a peacock feather. The fox leaped and tumbled with infectious joy, and for a mont, the political rot of the capital felt a world away.
Lucia looked at Malenia's laughter and the calm beauty of the night. If the rot in her blood could be stopped, and if the world could be held back from the edge of the abyss, he wished he could freeze this very mont into an eternal sumr.
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