On the final day of the procession, all of Blackport City descended into madness.
People held their hands high, their densely packed black sleeves rising like some bizarre forest.
The bard had long since sung himself hoarse, yet he continued singing his jumble of verses that only he could understand.
Unintelligible words burst from every throat.
No one knew where they were going. They simply stumbled onward, shoved from behind by those following them.
The daytime festivities ended, and with night came the bonfires.
Whole tree trunks carried down from Mount Morn served as fuel, feeding flames two stories high.
Five such bonfires stood in a straight line down the center of Toronia Square, with the procession circling them in an oval.
The vivid red flames illuminated every face and reflected in every pupil as an even brighter crimson gleam. In the grip of frenzy, people's expressions stiffened until they no longer looked entirely human.
Brad Baker stayed close beside Leo. Even someone as slow on the uptake as Brad could tell there was something very wrong with Leo's state of mind today.
Leo's attention was not on the grand procession.
Standing in a corner of Toronia Square, he kept scanning the crowd, especially the dignitaries on the ceremonial platform.
Acolyte Koliver seemed to be the current favorite of Bishop Notte Bonet. Dressed in a black robe, he stood not far from the bishop, waiting for his orders.
Against the black robe, Acolyte Koliver's face looked even paler.
Leo noticed that Koliver's gaze remained fixed on Bishop Notte Bonet's back. There was adoration in that gaze, and rapture, along with a flash of viciousness.
As the bonfire festival neared its climax, Leo's unease grew stronger and stronger.
He said to Brad Baker, “Don't you think there's something strange about Acolyte Koliver?”
Brad Baker nodded. “There's a kind of cleanliness about him that no one else has. You haven't seen his hands. They're as fair and delicate as a woman's.”
At that moment, the final rite, presided over by Matthew Escusi, scholar of the Blackport City Academy, was in full swing.
Toronia Square ran from north to south. The ceremonial platform stood at its northern end and the gallows at its southern end.
Behind the ceremonial platform stood Saint Denis Church of the Church of Radiant Prayer.
The Academy occupied the eastern side of the square and also served as Blackport City's library.
The Academy answered to the count and handled mage-related affairs on his behalf. Academy Scholar Matthew Escusi also served as a tutor in the count's castle and helped him with some of his letters and paperwork.
The Academy had prepared thoroughly for the festival. At a wave from Scholar Matthew, a gigantic portrait suddenly unfurled down the wall of the Academy library, large enough to cover its entire facade.
It was an enormous profile portrait of Archmage Hilquins.
At last, the people's worship had a tangible figure upon which to focus, and the celebrations reached their peak.
The bonfires burned so fiercely that no one noticed the glow of flames appearing behind them.
Before long, however, more and more people realized that something was wrong.
Blackport City was on fire!
A fire had broken out near the city's southern wall!
Though it was far away, its glow reached all the way to Toronia Square.
On the ceremonial platform, the Count of Blackport County immediately beckoned. His son, Major General Stuart Cavendish, hurried onto the platform, where the count issued him a series of orders.
The soldiers of the Unicorn Legion swiftly went into action under Major General Stuart's command.
Some rushed toward the southern part of the city, presumably to fight the fire.
Others began shouting to the procession, ordering the people to disperse slowly. It appeared that the count had decided tonight's ceremony could end here.
The scene immediately fell into chaos. People who lived in the city's southern district cried out anxiously.
Leo's finances had improved somewhat, and his family lived in the northern part of the city. Brad Baker had always lived in the west.
As the first signs of chaos emerged, the dignitaries on the ceremonial platform began to leave.
Leo hurriedly forced his way toward the platform.
“Leo! What are you doing?”
Brad Baker had no idea what was happening, but he was worried about Leo's strange behavior and chose to follow.
Bishop Notte Bonet moved quickly toward the church behind him, with Acolyte Koliver close on his heels.
Church knights guarded the entrance, preventing the mass of people from surging inside.
Leo watched Acolyte Koliver step forward and open the church's tall, heavy door for Bishop Notte Bonet.
The bishop paused as if he had remembered something. Instead of entering at once, he turned and spoke to the other priests.
The priests and remaining acolytes scattered to help the count's soldiers disperse the crowd and bring the chaos under control.
With their help, the disorder around the church diminished considerably.
Bishop Notte Bonet then entered the church. Koliver Enwey nimbly slipped in after him and pulled the door shut, leaving everyone else from the Church of Radiant Prayer outside.
At the sight, Leo quickly circled around to the side of the church and darted into the alley alongside it.
As he ran down the alley, Leo estimated Koliver's speed.
Brad saw Leo suddenly crouch at a particular spot along the church's side wall and press both hands against it.
Dust began to fall from the church's stone wall, and chips of stone flaked from its outer surface.
Leo had clearly altered the wall's density, making it loose and crumbly.
One kick opened a hole in the stone wall.
Brad stared in astonishment.
Was this really something an E-grade Cipher Mage could do?
Leo widened the hole, then crawled through without hesitation.
Brad watched him disappear. After wavering again and again, he crawled in as well.
With the situation so urgent, Leo could not speak up to stop him once he realized Brad had followed.
The church's interior rose thirty meters high. Tall, narrow stained-glass mosaic windows ran vertically along its outer walls.
The firelight outside shone through fragmented panes of blue and red glass, filling the church with color.
Leo and Brad hid in a corner, lying flat at the foot of the wall. Within the soaring church, they looked like nothing more than raised lines along its base, while rows upon rows of tables and chairs further concealed them from view.
Brad felt certain that he was going to die.
Why had he followed Leo inside? Why was he sneaking around on his stomach in the corner of a church? How many confessions would it take to cleanse him of this affront to the Lord of the Eternal Sun?
He felt as though he were defiling the Lord of the Eternal Sun...
Bishop Notte Bonet's slightly aged voice rang through the empty church.
“I'm exhausted. Three days... This procession has gone on for three days. If not for that fire just now, I would have had to endure another three hours. It's as if they want to send me to meet the Lord of the Eternal Sun ahead of schedule.”
Acolyte Koliver's soft, gentle voice followed.
“Your Grace, let the people outside put out the fire. I'll attend to you while you rest.”
As Bishop Notte Bonet walked toward the door beside the pulpit, he said, “Koliver, I need you. Go and take a good bath. Tonight, I need to bid farewell to the weariness of these past few days.”
At that, Bishop Notte Bonet turned and reached out to stroke Acolyte Koliver's smooth, pale neck.
“I need you so very much...”
For the moment, Brad forgot his guilt toward the Lord of the Eternal Sun. His mouth fell open wide enough to hold a chicken egg.
Perhaps even a goose egg.
In his innocence, he suddenly found himself unable to make sense of the conversation before him.
Still lying on the floor, he craned his head as high as he could. Outside, firelight streamed through the church's stained-glass mosaic, turning Bishop Notte Bonet and Acolyte Koliver into a pair of colorful, suggestive silhouettes.
The bonfire light danced, and so did the silhouettes of the bishop and acolyte.
Then Brad saw Acolyte Koliver place a hand on the bishop's waist. His fingers were so slender and long that even their stretched shadows on the floor seemed shorter than the fingers themselves.
Acolyte Koliver's fingers danced as though playing a piano, roaming ceaselessly over the bishop's waist.
Brad's eyes widened.
My God, what were they doing? Just who was defiling the Lord of the Eternal Sun?
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