Chapter 1: The City of Glass

Osmund Cantrell was glad to finally be allowed to leave again, even if only temporarily. The attention and constant requests of the foreign rulers, who were apparently ignorant of the realities in the West, did not please the old Magistra at all, and reminded him too much of the time before the Grand Magistrate had appointed him as Chancellor of Faith in this part of the world. The native Ærlish had been living here in the East for about 20 years now, usually in his chancellery in the Dravkish capital of Vlakis Oras. And usually there was hardly anything for him to do, as there were hardly any questions of faith in this part of the world. One of the few parts of the world where the church and the word of the one true goddess hardly found recognition.
Instead, the Magistra spent his days, and probably his last years of life, in ‘exile’ himself and in contemplation of the mistakes of his youth. It was rather inconvenient that suddenly half of Meridia came knocking on his door to ask for his opinion and assistance on a topic that was completely nonsensical in his eyes. Political intrigues of the Meridianers could be of no concern to him. Just like horror stories of idol gods and pagan heralds.
Leaving the hall of the first meeting behind him, the Magistra walked along the long, stone hallway. He had been wearing the expensive but uncomfortable and flowing robes of the Church as a representative of his faith for too long. His first order of business when he reached his room would be to put on something more appropriate.
But before Cantrell could escape any further attention, a figure walking behind him addressed him: “Your Eminence!” Cantrell stopped, but was relieved to hear that it was the voice of the Governess and not one of the Hesha. Bârladeanu was the only one who had not yet bothered him with constant requests. With a friendly smile, he turned to her. Although he did not know how, the small Dravki woman had somehow managed to catch up with him and his long legs, and had done so completely silently. “Madam Bârladeanu!”
The woman, who was shorter than him, looked at him with a mischievous smile. “Another important appointment? Or why the rush?” Cantrell nodded indulgently and gestured down the hallway.
“Postponed appointments, if any. We can certainly talk while walking, can’t we?” If he was going to be late for the meeting, he at least wanted to make some progress. Bârladeanu agreed.
Walking together along the corridors of the ballroom, Bârladeanu started the conversation with a question: “You are actually busier than I had suspected, Your Eminence. Was it such an appointment that caused your delay?” Cantrell looked at the Dravki who was walking casually beside him. In principle, their positions were similar. He was the representative of the Church of the Divine Right, as the highest member of the sparse communities of the Eastern world. The Governess, on the other hand, was the representative of her people and also of her King. Because of the Unity holidays of the Waal Kingdom, which took several weeks, the King was travelling in the lands of the West. Bârladeanu, who seemed to maintain good contacts with the Mountain King, immediately agreed to take over the summit and even hold it in her city. Otherwise, they would have met in the capital of the country, not in Zloka. So he felt a sense of commonality between them. However, the political aspect still stuck to her, which Cantrell found highly unsympathetic. He had witnessed too many intrigues within the ranks of the Church to still have a great desire to be part of that world at his age. But he couldn’t blame her either. After all, it was her job to think politically as the Governess.
“So to speak,” he replied. “I received a letter from the Mother Superior of the Taraneh Sisterhood, which I was reluctant to postpone. You understand, I hope.”
Bârladeanu raised one of her angular eyebrows with interest. “The Sisterhood?”
“Yes,” added Cantrell. “Besides the Kalimas Brotherhood in Vlakis Oras, the only abbey and order of the Church in the East.” Bârladeanu nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, I remember. A matriarchal sect living in the heart of Meridia. What kind of letter was it, if I may ask?” Cantrell hesitated. Actually, this was a matter internal to the Church, since Father Yonescue and Mother Azita were the only other representatives of the Church in the East besides Cantrell. Yonescue was travelling with the Mountain King, and the Mother…
Something tugged at Cantrell. Deep within him. The promise to be honest, no matter what. No more intrigue or games. Never again. Besides, he saw no harm in informing the Steward of the current situation of the Sisterhood. “The Honorable Mother of the Sisterhood apparently arrived in Vlakis Oras a few days ago, suspecting me and Father Yonescue to be there. Apparently, the Sisterhood has mostly left the country under pressure from our new neighbors and is now also in exile.” Bârladeanu paused, processing the information. “I’m sorry, but I just had to draft a response first before joining you and the others. I hope you understand.”
Bârladeanu nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. Grim news that there are more displaced people.”
“Apparently, the new rulers are going quite systematically against any resistance in the country, be it political or religious. But not the entire sisterhood has left the country. Some remained to keep an eye on developments in the country. At least that’s what the Mother said.”
Bârladeanu looked up. “Possible informants about the situation in the country?” Cantrell grinned somewhat crookedly.
“As far as possible. The Mother has charged them with keeping an eye on the situation and the No’farzand. One sister is on her way back to those in Meridia. If there are sudden changes, we will hopefully receive a warning.”
The governor pursed her lips. “At least something.”
Cantrell nodded in agreement as they arrived at the entrance to his quarters. “If you want, I can keep you updated. I could also ask the Mother to come down here to the south and keep us company.”
Bârladeanu smiled warmly. “Perhaps she can serve as a link between the Church and Meridia. Nothing against you, Your Eminence!”
Cantrell waved it off. “If the questions and speeches take some of the burden off me, I’m already satisfied!” Bidding farewell to the governor, the human disappeared into his room while Bârladeanu stood in front of the door for a moment longer.
“The watchful eyes of the King,” she said more to herself before she walked away to compose her own messages.