292 Sanctified Oracle

Tycondrius felt his heart tremble. He asked for something he should not have asked for... a forbidden magic. The dead were dead. Returning them to life was an honor reserved for only the greatest of heroes.

Archbishop Natalya Crucis leaned forward, speaking low but emphasizing each of her words, "Maximus will be honored as a Hero and a Saint-- a dead one."

"No, not Maximus," Tycon shook his head. "He died honorably and I would not take that away from him... But someone else-- another one of yours."

He hesitated, a knot forming in his heart. Remembering Holy Bolter Rena, he lamented her loss... He wished to resurrect her... maybe if only to tell her how stupid she was, "Her name is..."

"Prince... this is not negotiable," Natalya kept a stern voice.

Tycon furrowed his brows, trying but failing to reign in his anger, "Gods damn it, woman. I *know* you have at least one healer capable of a Third-Circle Resurrection. Rena of Leopardon was a devout follower of your Eternal Flame. She trusted me and I failed her. How can you tell me no?"

...What the hells was that? Tycon's eyes shot open wide and his heart was beating rapidly. He had... just blurted out far far more information than he had originally intended to provide.

Natalya chuckled to herself.

...It wasn't funny.

"I told you this place is covered in a ⌈Zone of Truth⌋," She spoke in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "It allows honesty even you, yourself, may have been unaware of, Prince."

She paused, "As for resurrection, we literally cannot... Firstly, only High Oracle Troia can perform such a ritual."

Tycon steeled his gaze, "I shall persuade her myself, Natalya. Grant me this much."

"...Allow me to finish, Tycondrius," She gestured calmly.

Tycon didn't realize it, but he'd half-stood in his seat. He adjusted himself, closed his eyes, and nodded, "Please continue, Lady Crucis."

"Worshippers of the Eternal Flame have their souls returned to the Flame, itself, to be reincarnated. As such, your companion cannot be resurrected," She explained.

Tycon nodded slowly. That was something he should have been aware of, had he thought for more than 5 seconds about the Church's beliefs... "I see."

He felt like an utter fool... "I apologize for my outburst, Archbishop."

"This, I will forgive." She took hold of her wine cup and swirled the liquid inside of it... "We have both failed Heroes of Tyrion, it seems."

Tycon clenched his eyes shut and exhaled his useless anger in a breath. He took his own cup and offered it forward in a toast, "For the fallen..."

Natalya's eyebrows twitched... Tycon was worried she wouldn't reciprocate, but the Archbishop gingerly tapped her cup against his... "And for those who order them to their deaths."

"No good end will come to us," Tycon drained his cup.

"...Unlike what our doctrine states... I am inclined to agree," The Archbishop took a deep pull from hers.

What else could the Church of the Eternal Flame offer him? ...After a moment of quiet deliberation, Tycon offered another improbable request... "I want an Oracle sanctified and trained."

Divine casters in the Holy Country of Tyrion had to be sanctified by their government in order to operate legally. The process included training and indoctrination... but was something almost exclusively reserved for humans.

The Archbishop twisted her lips, "Sanctified... perhaps. But be aware, it takes years for an Oracle to reach Bronze-Rank, even if he or she is gifted."

Tycon chuckled to himself, "And what if she is already Bronze-Rank?"

"Hmmm~ I suppose I can make the arrangements," Natalya hummed.

...

Tycon brought Sasha to the largest temple in Caeruleum, as Archbishop Crucis instructed. He specifically did not bring Isidor. His scaly head would probably end up being mounted on one of their walls, Gold-Rank physique or not.

Sasha was cute and polite-- and had a far higher mastery of her humanoid form. She'd probably be fine.

"A dark elf..." Natalya scrutinized her form. "That will do. Hoods are common amongst the students, so she will be able to easily hide her Outsider blood."

Tycon nodded, "And she will be in an all-female dormitory, you said?"

"Correct. Further, because of her special case and your sponsorship, she will be provided private quarters."

"And they offer three meals each sun?" Tycon asked.

"Indeed. The professionals in charge of the childrens' nutrition were hand-picked by myself. You have my word that they will be cared for."

"And she can write letters through the Courier's Guild?" Tycon grimaced, "Should I give her coin for postage?"

"Tycondrius..."

"Yes, Lady Crucis?"

"Compose yourself." The Archbishop chided gently, "Your young companion will be fine. I'm sure you will see her during the summer or winter vacation weeks."

"Lady Crucis, this young lady is my daughter," Tycon insisted.

The Archbishop narrowed her eyes, exuding a moderate amount of skepticism... "Right."

The chocolate elf hugged her adventuring pack, looking up at Tycon with a tiny pout, "She doesn't want to go..."

Tycon's heart was being torn as he looked down at his daughter's pitiful face... But no, Sasha was old enough to go to school. It was what children did. They went to school.

She had to go, to better her effectiveness in Sol Invictus. He couldn't just keep her around. It would be selfish of him...

Maybe she'd make some friends.

"Beautiful Child, if you wish to be useful to me, you will learn," Tycon stroked his daughter's soft white hair.

"She... she wishes to be useful," Sasha's turned away, clenching a tiny fist. Her look of uncertain discontent turned to one of... uncertain determination.

That would do, "I'll have you know that I'm very proud of you."

Sasha bobbed her hooded-head up and down, her lips pursed in a subtle smile, "She is aware."

And with that, Tycon saw his lovely daughter taken away by Church officials. She would accompany Archbishop Natalya Crucis to the island of Cersei's Rest, the following sun.

Children grow up so quickly. Tycon missed her already...