21: Machinations of a False Prophet
At the far end of the room, the Patriarch began another of his long speeches. Both girls were aware their friends were out there being paraded around before their final judgement, but Wotan had asked them to wait just a few more moments – if what he expected to happen occurred, they wouldn’t need to do anything, and if it didn’t, then he had a backup and they’d be free to do as they pleased. As much as she despised his methods and ideology, Phantasia was willing to give him a chance – something he’d put down to her faerie naiveté.
All of a sudden, Katrina jumped up and took a few steps forwards, indicating Phantasia and Wotan to be silent. The Patriarch was still droning on.
“One who saw through the charade of her school, the lies of her teachers, and the false friends she thought she had made. She has embraced our teaching and stands with us now as an equal!”
Though she couldn’t read emotions well, Phantasia could tell Katrina was anxious. Her aura had shrunk, as if retreating inside a shell, and she clasped her hands to her chest as if in prayer.
“Come, Amanda Hartell, show us the glory of redemption!”
For a moment Katrina was more a statue than Wotan had ever been and it looked as if even the mightiest of winds couldn’t move her. Then she slowly turned around, a vacant expression on her face. For a moment she stood there, her condensed aura straining to burst free. Then her eyes, lost in silent denial, scrunched up and she clenched her teeth tight. Both Phantasia and Wotan were taken aback by her anger, which came out in a whisper, like the tremors leading up to an earthquake.
“Explain.”
Wotan took a deep breath and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his throne. “Her father is involved with some shady affairs,” he said, “Not trivial matters, either: he’s in open defiance against the Patriarchs and involved in what they would call ‘terrorist organisations’. The Patriarchs themselves put a price on his head and, when they found out his daughter was living here in Torsten they demanded her arrest and execution. I convinced them to let me ‘seduce’ her into our order, so they might be able to use her against her father. If I hadn’t, she would be dead right now.”
The Patriarch, oblivious to what was going on behind his back, continued. “Now, Amanda, show your worth as a child of Godhand. Cleanse them.”
Katrina was struggling to contain her emotions. Her face, streamed with tears hid itself behind layers of messy hair and her hands shook with raw anger. Before those emotions consumed her, Phantasia took a deep breath and moved to comfort the taller girl, placing a hand on hers and willing what little positive energy she could muster into Katrina’s aura. Even so, she shared that same anger: once again, innocent people were used like pawns. She looked towards the Patriarch and weighed up her options. It was time to act.
Then Patriarch roared. “Kill them all!”
Katrina pulled away from Phantasia and ran. With her aura dancing like fire, burning the mana it touched with corruptive emotions, Katrina released her feelings in a scream as she charged towards the man who held her friends lives in his hands. In that moment, Wotan moved faster than Phantasia though possible for a human, discarding his heavy robes with a flick of his wrist and leaping after Katrina. Phantasia caught sight of him making gestures with his hands, noticed him reciting an incantation under his breath and before the Patriarch could react to the emotionally-broken teenage girl screaming towards him a magic seal – just like the one that had trapped Phantasia – sprung up around him and his four bodyguards. Wotan then reached Katrina, clasped her shoulder and held her back. Phantasia was quick to follow, throwing her arms around her friend’s waist and willing her to calm down.
