Memoirs 490 - Accolades on accolades (Patreon)

“Thank you for agreeing to come here, Deacon,” Scarlett said, motioning towards the sofa opposite her in the parlour. “I understand it cannot have been easy under the current circumstances. Especially if you wished to avoid drawing attention. Under normal circumstances, I would have arranged a more suitable reception, but I am afraid I could not offer you the same hospitality as during your last visit.”

“I understand, Baroness,” a firm woman’s voice replied. “Those formalities don’t matter much.”

Deacon Ava Solnate stood near the entrance, dressed in ornate red robes traced with darker embroidery. An intricately carved golden mask concealed her face, while sleek onyx hair fell in a long tail over one shoulder.

She crossed the room and took the seat Scarlett had indicated.

Scarlett gestured towards an empty teapot on the table between them.

“I did not have my servants prepare any refreshments. My understanding is that those who walk Ittar’s path refrain from eating or drinking while wearing the vestments of their office, although Deacon Abram has made me question how strictly that particular custom is observed. If you would like anything, however, I can have it brought.”

“No.” Solnate made a small gesture with one gloved hand. “The consideration is appreciated, but your understanding was correct. I do not consume food or drink while acting in the capacity of my seat.”

A sharper edge entered her voice.

“The same is expected of Deacon Abram. He has simply made something of a personal crusade out of disregarding as many customs of his office as he can without technically violating doctrine.”

“I suspected as much.” Scarlett shook her head lightly. “That man can be rather trying. From what I have heard, it often falls to you to keep him on something resembling a leash. I cannot say I envy the responsibility.”

The deacon went quiet. Her masked gaze remained on Scarlett for a few seconds before she dipped her head.

“It’s certainly a challenge. With that said…can I confide something in you that will not leave these walls?”

Scarlett nodded. “Of course.”

“Deacon Abram’s character is a trial to most who spend enough time around him,” the woman said. “But he is also one of the brightest minds I know. There is a reason Ittar’s light favours him more strongly than almost anyone outside the Augur herself.”

“Oh?” The corner of Scarlett’s mouth lifted slightly. “It sounds as though you hold him in higher regard than I expected.”

“I wish every day that he would conduct himself with more dignity. Nevertheless, the Quorum is far more fortunate for having him among its numbers than it would be without him. More than one disaster has been averted because he noticed what others didn’t.” Solnate paused. “There is a passage in Cisirne, fourth verse, thirteenth line: ‘Fear not the iconoclast who breaks an empty idol, but the keeper who preserves it after its light has died.’”

Scarlett considered that.

“This is the first I have heard it, but I suppose it is rather apt.”

If the ‘empty idol’ in this case was meant to represent the Followers, with the Quorum as its keeper, then Raimond made for a rather fitting iconoclast. He had certainly done his fair share of tearing at the existing order in his efforts to root out the corruption that had crept into its upper ranks.

Maybe the comparison itself was somewhat excessive. The Followers as a whole still seemed largely benevolent and committed to their original purpose. But parts of its leadership had undeniably strayed, and those same parts were the ones most opposed to Raimond and his methods.

“Still,” Scarlett continued, “I can sympathise with some of the difficulties that come with having a companion such as him. I too have a compatriot whom I trust without reservation, yet frequently find myself wishing she were somewhat more…normal, let us say.”

Rosa’s face surfaced in her mind.

“Perhaps it is simply the lot of people such as us to keep the more savant-minded iconoclasts of the world pointed in useful directions.”

“Ittar teaches that everyone carries something of value,” Solnate said. “Those with the patience and discernment to recognise that light in others, and the discipline to help it flourish, are the ones most suited to lead. Above all else, that is the quality they should cultivate.” Despite the mask, Scarlett could almost sense the frown that appeared behind it. “…Even when those they lead test the absolute limits of that patience.”

Scarlett studied her.

She couldn’t help thinking back to the deacon’s last visit to this mansion. That had been a few months ago now, after Anguish’s attempted manifestation, during the conclave that had been held here in Elystead.

At the time, Raimond had been ‘hiding’ here.

Scarlett had been given a rather memorable demonstration of the harsher side of Deacon Solnate’s personality when she came to deal with him.

Honestly, whatever relationship the two shared seemed far more complex than Scarlett’s with Rosa.

“I suspect you may bear the heavier burden between us after all,” she said. “I wish you the best of luck from here on.”

“Thank you.”

Deacon Solnate’s attention stayed on Scarlett for another couple of seconds. Then she raised one finger to the base of her mask, and her attention wandered elsewhere.

The masked gaze travelled around the parlour, lingering first on the paintings above the sideboard, then on the shelves lining one wall and the decor around them. It moved slowly, taking in the room with more care than casual curiosity warranted.

Scarlett rested her hands together in her lap and waited. She had a fair idea what the woman was actually doing.

There was no harm in letting her look.

Today’s meeting had come together somewhat suddenly. In the wake of everything that happened at the palace, the mansion had been buried beneath a veritable deluge of letters, invitations, gifts, and other correspondence from seemingly every walk of life in Elystead.

A fair number had come from nobles and officials, offering their thanks for Scarlett’s role during the attack or inviting her to their homes for one reason or another. Others were from wealthy merchants, guild figures, and assorted social climbers offering congratulations and trying to use the sudden prominence of her new epithet as an opening to establish ties with House Hartford.

The vast majority, Scarlett hadn’t bothered looking at herself.

Her people had been sorting through those, with Evelyne—who Scarlett thought had lost all right to lecture her about resting—taking responsibility for the ones that seemed important enough to warrant a response. Scarlett had only personally dealt with the messages arriving directly from Dawnlight Palace, where her presence was currently very much desired.

For now, at least, her condition had earned her some leeway on that front.

Raimond’s letter had almost slipped through the cracks when it arrived the previous night. If Evelyne hadn’t been going through some of the more innocuous-looking correspondence in Scarlett’s stead and recognised the man’s handwriting, it might have remained unopened for several days.

For some reason, Raimond had written it under his ‘Father Abraham’ persona and gone out of his way to make the letter appear as dull and unimportant as possible.

When Scarlett actually read it, however, she realised that most of the contents were simply a roundabout attempt to arrange this meeting with Deacon Solnate.

What Raimond himself was doing right now wasn’t made entirely clear. Still, since Deacon Solnate held considerably more actual authority within the Followers than he did, and Scarlett had already intended to meet with the two of them anyhow, she had made sure to arrange things today.

There was little reason to delay things longer than that.

Well, there was one.

She was supposed to be recovering.

And, contrary to what certain people around her appeared to believe, she was taking that seriously.

Her body had been rather unambiguous in its complaints, and the strange lethargy that had settled over her when she first woke a couple of days ago still hadn’t entirely faded. Given the choice, Scarlett would actually have postponed this meeting—and most other obligations—for several more days.

Unfortunately, she had already set too many things in motion to simply ignore all of them. Even if some of them could be delayed, it was best if they weren’t. And since she had delegated many of her obligations to Yamina, it would be irresponsible of her if she didn’t do her part.

So while recovering remained her main priority, there was simply a minimum amount of work she still needed to get done while doing so.

“Abram mentioned that your home in Freybrook was rather unusual,” Deacon Solnate said after a while, her attention still roaming the room. “As I understand it, there’s a dweller of the Wandering Realm protecting both your estate and the pylon there?”

“That is correct,” Scarlett replied. “I call it the Loci. A house spirit, of sorts.”

“I can sense something similar here now.” Solnate’s focus stopped on one of the walls facing the centre of the estate. “It wasn’t present the last time I visited.”

“A fragment of the Loci’s presence has established itself here. It is significantly less developed and powerful than the presence in Freybrook, but I expect that is what you are sensing.”

“I see.” Solnate gave a thoughtful nod.

Her attention swept over the room one final time before returning to Scarlett.

“Is that also what’s keeping me from perceiving anything else inside the mansion?”

Scarlett met the bright eyes of the woman’s mask.

Solnate watched her closely.

“Is the incarnate here right now?”

Scarlett stayed quiet for a while longer, then smiled mildly.

“Would you like to meet her?”

The deacon shook her head.

“No. Abram described her as a kindred soul, and I have no interest in meeting more of his ilk. I assume she is the compatriot you were referring to earlier?”

“That is indeed the case. And it is likely wise that the two of you do not meet.”

Scarlett would also prefer not to put Rosa face-to-face with someone who, a year ago, might very well have sought her death.

Though she supposed that might be somewhat unfair to Deacon Solnate.

Scarlett had only met the woman a couple of times, but there were enough similarities between them that Scarlett suspected she understood Solnate better than she did many others. More importantly, the deacon wasn’t unreasonable. Scarlett never would have let Raimond reveal the truth about Rosa if she thought Solnate would act on it without listening to him first.

Of course, if possible, she would have preferred to keep that a secret even then. But that had become increasingly difficult.

With Scarlett’s ties to Raimond and Solnate’s faction within the Followers growing stronger following the events in Beld Thylelion, Deacon Solnate had understandably started demanding clearer answers about exactly what Scarlett was involved in. Considering that they were ‘allowing’ Scarlett to keep the Tribute of Dominion in her possession, Raimond could only deflect so much for Scarlett before it began damaging the trust they were trying to build.

In the end, Scarlett had decided that telling Solnate was the safer choice if she wanted the Followers to remain a reliable ally.

The deacon watched her for another few seconds.

Scarlett found herself wondering what exactly was going on behind that golden mask.

Then Solnate reached into her robes.

She brought out a broad, circular pendant of polished gold and placed it carefully on the table. A sun had been worked into its face, not too unlike the design stamped onto an ordinary imperial solar. But unlike those coins, this was intricate to the point of being a masterpiece. Fine rays spread outward from a raised centre in overlapping patterns, with tiny lines of script etched between them, and the pendant itself was almost as wide as Scarlett’s palm.

“This is the Accolade of Ordan,” Solnate said.

Her tone had changed. Not dramatically, but there was a weight to it now that hadn’t been there earlier.

Scarlett studied the pendant for a few seconds before looking back up.

“You are presenting this to me?”

“Yes. It is awarded to those whose deeds have earned formal recognition from the Quorum. At least five deacons must agree before one can be issued.” Solnate glanced down at the pendant. “The last was given six years ago, jointly to Rosanna Adlam and Arnaud Astrey, for their actions in the aftermath of the Dragon of Devastation’s awakening. Before that, Sir Dariel Sagar received one thirteen years ago for his role in preventing the collapse at Redwater Pass.”

“Is that so? And is this why you came here today?”

“No. But once it was agreed that you would receive one in recognition of your actions as the Revenant Flame, I took responsibility for presenting it to you. Understand that this is one of the highest honours the Followers grant to someone outside our own ranks.”

Scarlett leaned forward and picked up the pendant.

It was heavier than she expected. Was it made of pure gold? It felt warm too, though she couldn’t tell whether that came from the metal itself or the magic she could faintly sense within it.

[Accolade of Ordan (Epic)]{“May the light entrusted to you become shelter for those who cannot yet bear their own.” — Book of Canon: Ordan 6:2}

“Is it enchanted?”

“Yes. It carries an enchantment similar to ones used by us deacons.”

Solnate reached beneath the collar of her robes and drew out a pendant hanging from a fine chain around her neck. Hers was smaller and bore the image of a mask rather than a sun.

“It has no use in combat,” she continued. “Its purpose is to steady the mind, ease mental strain, and help the wearer recover from prolonged exhaustion. For a deacon who actually carries out the considerable number of duties attached to the position, it becomes useful very quickly.”

There was the faintest edge to the last sentence. It didn’t take a genius to know exactly which deacon had inspired it.

Solnate’s masked gaze moved over her.

“And judging by your current appearance, I expect you may find some use for it as well.”

Scarlett ran her thumb over the Accolade, tracing the raised lines of the sun’s rays. A gentle warmth seeped into her skin and travelled up her arm, leaving behind a faint sense of ease.

“Out of curiosity,” she said. “Was Deacon Abram the one who proposed giving this to me?”

“He was,” Solnate replied. “Four other deacons agreed. That is rare for any proposal with his name attached.”

“Interesting.”

Scarlett let the pendant rest in her lap, keeping one hand loosely over it as she returned her attention to the woman opposite her.

“You have my thanks.”

“That is generally not how accolades work. You don’t need to thank me for it.”

“No.” Scarlett chuckled lightly. “I suppose not.”

“With that taken care of…” The ceremonial weight left Solnate’s voice as she settled back slightly. “I’ll get to the point. I assume neither of us wants to waste more time than necessary.”

“I am actually not permitted to leave this mansion for the time being, so while I do have much to do, I am not so pressed that I cannot spare a few additional minutes.”

“Unfortunately, I am. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have minded discussing a few other matters with you, including the Tribute.” Solnate brought both hands together in her lap. “But that will have to wait. Am I correct in assuming you are already mostly aware of what lay behind the events at the palace?”

Scarlett nodded. “I am indeed.”

“Good. I have been involved in several discussions with the various mage factions, the crown, and His Highness the Crown Prince regarding what happened, and your name has come up often enough that I have a rough idea of your involvement.” The eyes of her mask observed Scarlett. “Are you familiar with Eidolon?”

“Familiar in the sense that I am aware it was connected to the attack? Yes.”

“Then you may also know that Eidolon was the shared name of two gods said to have perished long ago.”

“I am.”

“What do you make of that?”

Scarlett was quiet for some time.

“I am not entirely certain yet,” she eventually said. “From what I have seen, the Eidolon we are dealing with now does not appear to be completely identical to what existed before, but there is clearly some connection. I simply do not know what the shape of that connection is yet.”

Her fingers shifted slightly over the Accolade.

“Curiously, I tried looking into Eidolon’s history, but found very little of substance beyond mentions of the name and their supposed demise.”

There had actually been a surprising number of old legends on the subject. The problem was that they all told essentially the same story.

Most centred around The Severance that erased the Zuverian civilisation, framing it as a calamity so immense that even gods had fallen during it. Eidolon—the Two-Part God—was the name most often used to represent that loss.

But that was about as far as they ever went.

Solnate nodded slowly. “That is about where common knowledge ends. The Sanctuary Archives contain older records that tell us somewhat more.”

Scarlett arched a brow. “They do?”

She was familiar with the archives kept within the Sanctuary of Ittar. They were supposedly among the largest collections of religious texts and historical records on the continent, though access to much of their contents was heavily restricted.

“As head of the Ecclesiastical Congregation of Sacraments, I have the authority to share some of those records with you,” Solnate said. “From our best understanding, Eidolon was something akin to a god of semblance. One half governed the casting of likeness, while the other governed its recognition.”

“Semblance, you say?”

That sounded somewhat familiar. But also much less defined than the domains of gods like Ittar and Adtia.

“Then do you know what killed the original Eidolon?”

Solnate shook her head. “That part isn’t clear. What accounts survive from the period come from scattered records left by an old human kingdom called Veyra that followed a precursor faith to the Pantheon’s Order. Preserving a proper historical record has never been one of their lot’s priorities, so much of what remains is incomplete.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“It is.”

Still, Scarlett wondered if at least knowing Eidolon’s general domains could prove useful later.

[Side questline: Spectre of the Unseen — Eidolon of the Void]{The forays of the divine draw near the Material Realm as they once did in ages past, but far too slowly. Meanwhile, the shadow of a divinity that should not be stirs ahead of all else, and with it, something is foretold}[Objective: Learn Eidolon’s identity][Reward: —][Failure: —]

But clearly, it still wasn’t enough to finish this damned quest.

She thought for a moment.

“Since you have shared this with me, I will tell you what I know of the current Eidolon,” she said. “It is an aberrant existence, similar in that respect to the Anomalous One the Hallowed Cabal seeks to free. As you may have noticed during the attack, it also appears capable of using Memories to interact with the world. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it must use them. From what I understand, it exists on a layer separate from both material reality and Memory altogether, one that appears tied to the designation ‘Eidolon of the Void’. It also seems to consist of more than one persona or identity, though I do not yet know how those relate to one another, how many there are, or whether their aims differ.”

Solnate’s hands tightened slightly where they rested in her lap.

“It’s aberrant, like the Anomalous One?” she asked. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“That it most likely does not conform to the normal rules of this world. To what degree, however, I cannot say.”

Scarlett considered whether to leave it there.

“However,” she continued, “I believe it has an interest in the gala that will be held soon. There may be more to learn there.”

Solnate’s posture changed almost imperceptibly as her gaze sharpened on Scarlett.

Scarlett kept her expression neutral.

“I assume that gala is part of why you are here today,” she said.

Solnate didn’t answer immediately. She continued studying Scarlett for several seconds.

Then her hands loosened.

“Do you have the chalice?”

Scarlett’s eyebrows rose slightly.

She activated her [Charm of Expeditious Change], and her [Pouch of Holding] appeared in her lap beside the [Accolade of Ordan]. Reaching inside, she brought out a golden chalice with bright red gems set around its rim.

[Chalice of Canon (Divine)]{A hallowed vessel of covenant and offering, carrying the voice of a petitioner before the listening divine}

“…So you truly did,” Scarlett heard Solnate murmur.

The deacon looked back at her. “You are nearly as insane as Abram.”

“That is a bit excessive, no?”

“No. It is an understatement.” A harder edge entered Solnate’s voice. “The Augur shouldn’t have to be exposed to…”

She seemed to stop herself.

Several seconds passed.

“Will you pass me the chalice, Baroness?” she eventually asked, extending both hands across the table.

Scarlett leaned forward and placed it in them.

Solnate accepted the chalice and turned it over, inspecting the symbols engraved around its base where the light caught them. After a moment, she pressed one gloved finger against the first.

It lit with a bright golden glow.

She rotated the chalice and moved to the next symbol, then the next, working her way around the base one by one.

Scarlett watched with interest.

“What are you doing?”

“I am consecrating the chalice’s pledge.”

“Pledge?”

“Yes.” Solnate stopped briefly and looked up. “This relic has been touched by Ittar’s light so that it can carry his essence and serve as a medium, but it still has to be properly prepared. This was a ritual once performed by the first deacons.”

“Has it been done since then?”

“No.” Solnate returned to the symbols. “Communing with the divine is a solemn matter, Baroness. It cannot—and should not—be done casually. I admit it concerns me that you likely do not appreciate the significance of possessing this relic.”

“My apologies.”

Solnate gave no response to that.

The woman continued her work, and when her finger finally touched the last symbol, light flared through every marking at once.

The entire chalice shone brilliant gold.

Then that light gathered within its bowl, pooling at the bottom before rising into a smooth, luminous surface that shifted almost like liquid.

Solnate stared at it for several seconds before placing the chalice back on the table in front of Scarlett.

“It can only be used once. Do so wisely.”

Scarlett leaned forward, studying the golden pool and the warped reflection of her face within it.

“Will this allow me to commune directly with Ittar?”

She assumed that was why she had been given the chalice in the first place. She simply hadn’t expected someone like Deacon Solnate to show up and ‘consecrate’ it beforehand.

How had the woman even known to come prepared for that?

Had the Augur told her?

“It will,” Solnate said.

Scarlett looked back up. “How, precisely?”

“I don’t know.” The woman shook her head. “The Chalices of Canon were originally created to facilitate these communions, but there is a reason they haven’t been used for that purpose since the Renascence. Ittar would not have made this possible if you weren’t capable of carrying it through, but I would strongly suggest that you not invoke it before the proper time.”

Scarlett considered her, then glanced down at the chalice again. That probably meant she was supposed to wait until the gala.

Essentially, this was how she was meant to invite Ittar.

That was an awful lot of ceremony for a single invitation, but maybe that was what happened when gods became involved.

She was fairly sure the sprite served a similar purpose in some fashion. Perhaps the emperor’s book did as well.

These things could get complicated, it seemed.

That said…

“I was expecting more of an attempt at negotiation from your side,” Scarlett said. “I do not recall confirming that I would allow the Followers to join the gala just yet.”

“…Abram never explained what this gala actually was to begin with,” Solnate said, her voice lower now.

“I suspect he does not fully know, nor will I tell you more here.” Scarlett gestured towards the chalice. “Regardless, it is the one you follow who wishes to claim a seat at the table. I have yet to hear what you offer in return. You should know that I consider this separate from our existing alliance.”

The deacon stayed quiet for several moments.

“This is sacrosanct, Baroness. Even I do not have the authority to speak on Ittar’s behalf. If you want terms beyond what has been established, then you now have the means to ask for them yourself.”

Scarlett held back a light chuckle.

“Very well.”

She supposed that meant she would be doing the negotiating with the sun god himself when the time came.