His downfall had been partly his reliance on demonification, but mostly because he had underestimated the reach of my bonds.
I had a superior in my past life who excelled at his job. He owed it all to a single beefy client that gave him all his sales numbers, and it all came crashing down when they went under. He went from top of the office to bottom of the barrel just like that. And people started to talk.
“I knew he was just coasting on that client this whole time.”
“Give me a fish that big and we’ll see who’s at the top next quarter.”
They used his failure to excuse their own performances. After suffering through three hard months, however, he was back at the top, and half a year later all the prattlers were gone.
One day, when we were out for drinks, I asked him about the secret to his mental fortitude.
“Congratulations on your comeback,” I said. “Even if it makes my own work look a little less impressive in comparison.”
“Don’t worry, I’m comin’ after every incentive this quarter too,” he replied.
“I’m close to a promotion myself, so I’ll just have to keep trucking. Don’t want my performance dropping while I’m not looking again.”
My superior chuckled. “I like you, y’know that? When you talk shit, you do it to my face. Not behind my back like the rest.”
“The gossip still bothering you?”
“Hey, I’m only human. They’re not wrong that I made out like a bandit with that one client, though. It was a looong three months building up a new client base, restarting business talks, meeting old partners again...and everywhere I went, I’d have those rumors at my back.”
“It doesn’t seem like much has changed about you from my perspective. Maybe you’ve got the magic touch.”
“I’m just a sore loser, that’s all. I wanna know what made me screw up so I don’t do it again the next time.”
“Well, it gets results. Do you ever think about how all your incredible accomplishments might affect the people around you?”
“You really think about that? Lemme tell you, worrying about others is a good way to make your wallet empty and your head hairless. It’s a waste of precious time and energy. Life’s too short and fragile to not make the most of the chances it throws at you.”
“Good point.”
I returned from my recollections and sighed. Our positions weren’t so different right about now.
Make the most of the chances life throws at you...
What would I do if I were the judge in this situation? What would Her Holiness do? First and foremost, I would squeeze every drop of information out of him, learn what I could about demonification, and get the name of his boss in Blanche. Otherwise, another storm would find its way to us eventually.
Her Holiness looked into Dongahar’s eyes with pity as he waited patiently for her sentence. Bulteuse and his lackeys, however, were not so dignified in the face of death.
“Your Holiness, we are but victims of Sir Dongahar’s temptation!” Bulteuse pleaded. “We merely partook of the strength he promised us. Everything was under Sir Dongahar’s instruction. Please, just spare my life!”
“We were only following orders!” a knight begged. “We couldn’t disobey, Your Holiness!”
“Give us another chance! We will become the mortar for a new Shurule!”
“We will be your shield, your spear, anything you ask. Please, we beg of you!”
“Your Holiness!”
“Your Radiance!”
“Your Merciful Grace!”
The sight of their pitifully hung heads was laughable, like two-bit criminals whose actions had finally caught up to them.
Dongahar bellowed with laughter. “Behold, the best the Church has to offer. Elite for but a glimmer, and dishonorable when cast from their paradise. Let your judgment be just, Your Holiness. Let me witness your resolve in my last moments.”
Everyone present began to murmur. The balance of power had seemingly shifted.
The pope nodded slowly. “Have you any last words? Any remaining grievances you wish to make known to me?”
“None.” I thought he might have spoken about his father, but he merely shook his head. “I wish only to see your resolve that the sun might rise again on our Church.”
Her Holiness was silent for a moment. “Very well. You are headstrong and idealistic, just like your father. Had I not been such a fool...”
“Had you not sent him on that errand while signs of a labyrinth had been recognized?”
“Perhaps...your father would still be with us.”
“You needn’t lie to me. I know why the labyrinth came to be and why my father perished in it. And I know why you abandoned the effort to cleanse it.” Dongahar closed his eyes and smiled. “I cannot bring myself to hate you even while death waits.”
Her Holiness paused, then grimaced in anguish. She seemed but moments from tears. I didn’t understand. He’d spoken of nothing but pure rage and hate before, and now he was contradicting himself.
“Heed this man’s words well. We stand before a believer—a man of faith. I ask that all present consider what has transpired here,” the pope announced. “Luciel, our newest sage, has accomplished much. And in the interest of honesty, he is not without privilege. Hear me, are there any among us who would claim they have put forth equal effort—perhaps even greater effort than he? If so, I would acknowledge you.”
All was quiet. Her Holiness looked out, carefully gazing into every face present, and not a soul moved. Even those who surely had a few words to say to me.
“It would appear there are not,” Her Holiness continued. “On my own papacy, I offer my deepest apologies to each and every one of you.”
“Your Holiness, you mustn’t humble yourself!” Catherine interjected.
“I have done wrong, Catherine. We must seek forgiveness for our mistakes. Is that not right, Luciel? My dear mother and father taught me so as a child.”
“But this isn’t the place to—”
A silhouette appeared behind Catherine, and the next moment she went limp like a puppet. The figure caught her before she could fall, holding her in his arms.
“I think someone needs a timeout before they throw a tantrum. Carry on, Luciel.” Galba disappeared, carrying Catherine away from the field.
I cleared my throat. “Continue, Your Holiness.”
“Thank you,” she said. “There is a reason the labyrinth appeared. It is because of me—because I left the palace. I should have been free to roam the capital in its entirety, but the barrier surrounding the city was damaged during excessive construction efforts.”
If that had been the case, then the pope was entirely innocent and Lord Reinstar hadn’t actually trapped his daughter within the castle. She closed her eyes, reminiscing on the past, before continuing.
“My actions caused the barrier to vanish, and so the labyrinth was formed. I fell into a torpid state of listlessness for several days out of sheer shock when I heard the news. So responsibility fell to the Captain of the Knights at the time. On their first foray into the dungeon, none returned from its depths, and as we all well know, it would remain unconquered until Luciel rescued us from its curse. The fact remains, however, that countless lives were lost under my command, and I can make no excuses for that.”
She bowed, sending a wave of surprise through the knights. Some kneeled, others bowed, while still others were petrified. No one spoke out against her, though.
“I called Dongahar a man of faith,” she continued. “And I stand by that claim. But to excuse his actions would be a betrayal to all of you. This, I have learned.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “The crime of treason is a severe one, and you have only levied yet more sins through the heretical arts of demonification and demonic summoning. Therefore, I... I... I sentence you to exile. Your memory shall be wiped clean and your class terminated.”
Not execution, to my surprise. I had expected him to pay with his life, but forced amnesia was even crueler in a sense.
“Many of my subjects may call for capital punishment, but we of the Church are charged with saving lives, not stealing them,” the pope declared through tears. “The Church of Saint Shurule shall be responsible for no more deaths.”
Everyone went vacant, like their souls had been sucked from their bodies.