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Thursday, December 28, 2017

Chapter 25: Remastered

*Words in italics are being translated from sign language with no other notation*

An unfamiliar priest sat in one of the visitor chairs in the mayor’s office.  He was middle-aged, olive complected, with deep, piercing eyes.  The mayor grinned at Tatiana as she entered, “Holiness, meet the head of the Ostrum.”

“The Ostrum,” Tatiana echoed, trying to place the name in her mind. 

Behind her, Alister turned pale, “It looks like we have a two ‘L’ situation.”  He pushed her into the hallway, facing the priest who had risen from his chair.

Carl grabbed Amber and Tatiana’s hands, pulling them down the hallway towards the elevator.  “What about Alister?” Tatiana glanced over her shoulder.
 
The elevator dinged, drawing her attention forward.  A row of purple-clad servants stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the elevator .  Each wore a sword at their right side and held a bell in his left hand.  Before she could even understand what she was looking at, the servants rang their bells and her vision narrowed, the edges of it darkening until all light was gone.

When Tatiana awoke, she was laying on a raised surface in a white room.  Alister lay on a platform next to her, his eyes still closed.  The only sound was the whoosh of an air-handling system and someone sniffling.  Tatiana sat up, blinking against the stark light of the room.  The blue hair and bright red robes of the servant were a relief to her eyes, “Kadeem.”  Tatiana’s voice came out in barely a whisper.  She tried again, “Kadeem.”

Kadeem wiped his eyes and stood, “So you’re awake, Princess.”

“Kadeem,” Tatiana couldn’t remember where she was or how she got there.  She tried to think of the last thing that had happened, “What is a ‘two ‘L’ situation?’”

Kadeem choked a laugh, forming his fingers into a sign, “It’s Alister for ‘run.’  Ellipse be damned, I miss him.”

“Is he . . .” Tatiana looked at Alister’s still form, “Is he dead?”

“No, dummy, he’s not dead,” Kadeem sniffled, “Although I might as well be dead to him.”

“He’s not that mad at you, you just hurt his feel-” Tatiana stopped short.  She was finally conscious enough to realize what little she was wearing, “Why am I wearing duct tape?”

“It’s not duct tape,” Kadeem tossed her a white hospital blanket, “It’s a biometric tape that monitors your vitals.”  He looked up at the ceiling, then moved his chair over next to a white vent, “You must be cold, come sit near the heater.”

Tatiana made a face at him, “Because you actually care.”  Skeptically she moved over to him, “What are you up to, Kadeem?”

   “They can’t hear us if we whisper this close to a white noise source,” he hissed.  “I’m changing sides.  Even if he never forgives me,” Kadeem’s eyes glittered, “When I first met him, Alister had just been remastered by the Ostrum.  He couldn’t feed himself, walk, or use the toilet.” 

Tatiana shivered, “The Order did that to him?”

“He was out of control, like now.  Saying he was going to take down the wall.  They had to do something.”

Realization slowly dawned on her, “We have to get out of here.”

“We wait until Alister wakes up,” Kadeem crossed his arms.

“There has to be a way out of this, some way to resist the remastering, like thinking of a brick wall.”

Kadeem didn’t respond right away.  His eyes were locked onto Alister’s form, “I think he’s waking up.”  Alister’s foot twitched, then he sat bolt upright with a gasp.  Kadeem signed to him, and he signed back.  With a baffled look on his face, Kadeem turned to Tatiana, “He says he was floating above us and heard our conversation.  The brick wall won’t work.  The only priests who can resist remastering are priests who have ascended.”

“Great,” Tatiana’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “So if you become completely brainwashed the brainwashing doesn’t work.”

Ascension is not brainwashing.  It’s merging with your patron,” Alister looked at the door.

Tatiana sucked in her lower lip, “If I had my relic and I merged, would I be able to save everyone?”

“If you still wanted to, Dear,” Alister scrunched up his face, “We don’t really know who you would be or what would happen, but yes, you would have power over the Order itself.”

The door opened and the servants of the Ostrum filed into the room.  Four of them seized Alister, cuffing his hands and putting him in leg shackles.  The other four surrounded Tatiana. 

“I only have one good arm,” she pointed to her cast, “Can’t you just do my legs?”  The servants looked at each other, then complied.  Pleasantly surprised, she shuffled into the hallway surrounded by the men.  They herded her and Alister into a large dimly lit room.  It was a Sacred Chamber, the priest sitting in a chair near the far wall.  As they approached, Tatiana gasped.  He was a wolf man, clad in white robes, a rainbow belt around his waist.  No, he wasn’t just any wolf man, he was Tate.  Stunned, she watched them drag Alister up to the throne.  He was struggling, screaming, his face contorting.  For a moment the image of Tate seemed to dissolve into pixels, then it popped back into focus.  Behind it was a black box and in the box was a fiddle and a comb.

One of the Ostrum yelped as Kadeem grabbed his sword.  Alister was dropped on the relic, where he writhed like a fish.  Kadeem seized the unarmed servant in an attempt to take a hostage.  There was a scuffle, then screaming.  Tatiana closed her eyes, biting her lips so hard that she tasted blood.  Whether it was powerlessness or cowardice that kept her frozen in place was of little matter; she felt herself tested and found herself lacking.

With self-loathing rising in her throat, she opened her eyes.  Alister and Kadeem lay on opposite sides of the throne.  Alister appeared healthy, but his eyes were vacant and unfocused. Kadeem’s red robes were sodden around his abdomen, his face a taut mask of pain.  Tatiana could feel a tightening in her stomach.  It expanded slowly until her whole body was filled with rage.  “In the beginning there was song, in the beginning there was song,” she repeated silently as the Ostrum led her up to the throne.  “In the beginning there was song,” instead of resisting, she leaned into the relic, the electric buzz pulsing around her.  “In the beginning there was song!” she reached into the relic with her left hand, straight through Tate’s thigh.  Confusion washed over her, but her mind kept reciting the blessing she had learned as a force of habit.  “In the beginning there was song in the beginning there was song in-the-beginningtherewassong.”  Something prickled her fingertips and a deafening buzz rolled through her body.  For a moment, she was nothing but white light and energy.  No body, just a flow of electrons.  Then the room snapped into focus. 

Tatiana lifted the fiddle from the box and tucked it under her chin.  With her good hand she pressed down the strings on the fingerboard.  “Darkest sky, sea of glass,” her voice filled the chamber, “What if I said that love can last?”  To her surprise, her voice seemed to rise from the top of her head.  It was rich, in tune, and the sound of the fiddle filled her mind as she touched the strings.

Next to her the Ostrum knelt, placing their swords flat on the ground.  “Arch Priestess,” the servant kept his head bowed, “we are at your command.”

“You will do as I say?” Tatiana gazed down the strings at the bowed heads of the Ostrum until she saw each head bob in agreement.  Looking across the room, her eyes settled on Kadeem.  She couldn’t be sure from this distance, but she thought he shifted slightly.  “First you will bring a medical team for Kadeem,” she pointed at one of the servants.  “You,” she pointed at another, “take Alister to a room and care for him.”  Tucking the fiddle under her arm, she picked up one of the Ostrum’s swords, “Who would like to escort me to where you are keeping Amber and Carl?”

“I will,” a servant looked up at her timidly, “My name is Wyatt; I shall be at your command.”

Silently, Tatiana followed him out of the Sacred Chamber.  As they walked down the hall, the route they took seemed oddly familiar; right, left, up the stairs.  As they passed a door with a brass name plate, it suddenly sunk in.  ”Holiness Van . . .” read the plate.  Just then, the door opened and out came the same priest she had seen in the mayor’s office.  His eyes flashed when he saw her, and he drew his sword in one clean movement.  “Drop your weapon, Tatiana,” his muscles tensed under his robes like the coils of a snake. 

As Tatiana dropped her sword, Wyatt moved between her and the priest.  “You will not harm the Arch Priestess,” Wyatt’s sword was drawn, his stance wide.

“Arch Priestess?” Van, the head of the Ostrum looked her up and down.  His expression changed from a glare to one of amazement, “They come bearing their Holy Relic, the waters of Death in their eyes.”  He knelt, using his sword like a cane.

Tatiana sucked in her bottom lip.  The man kneeling before her had betrayed someone he saw everyday, someone with whose welfare he had been entrusted, someone she loved.  “Does even the head of the Ostrum obey an ascended priest?” she asked.

“The angel of an arch priest is always in the orbit of the Ellipse,” Van kept his eyes low, “Even the head priest of Citadel must obey their command.”

Tatiana pursed her mouth in thought, “You have a choice, then.  You may go serve the cursed in Egregia, or . . . you can choose to be remastered.”

Van gasped, his head jerking up, “Arch Priestess!  Haven’t I served the order faithfully?”

“You served the rule of the Ellipse and not its heart,” Tatiana felt as if her words were coming from someone else, “You can learn to love by serving those less than you, or you can share Alister’s fate.”

Van’s skin turned ashen, “I will go to Egregia.”

Tatiana nodded, “Go immediately, as if you are one who is cursed.  Take your relic and bless the people.”  She turned to Wyatt, “Are my friends up here?” 

“This way, Arch Priestess,” Wyatt led the way forward, the muscles in his broad back still tensed from the confrontation.  Tatiana followed him, grateful the servant was on her side.  They stopped in front of a door guarded by two servants. 

Tatiana slowly opened the door.  Carl was standing on a chair, unscrewing a vent cover with a broken ink pen.  Amber was rearranging the covers on the bed, to make it look as if there were bodies tucked under them.  “What’s going on here?” Tatiana demanded. 

Carl turned, the wheeled chair rolling out from underneath him.  He landed on his back with a thud.  Amber’s face smoothed into relief, “Tatiana!  You’re okay!”

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