Shadow of the Abyss

Led inside by the three sisters of Sepith, Altair was somehow able to maintain a calm look despite the acrid sensation bubbling in the back of his throat. He wanted to puke, to break everything that entered his sight.

Shadowheart, the method of hiding one's intent in one's heart, had become something of his saving grace, masking his killing intent. He truly had not been more grateful to Thanatos for teaching him such a method.

The temple castle was grand yet simple, somehow managing to square that minimalistic look that might lead one to believe that the Temple of Sepith was barely lived in. It was clean, too clean for any place one might call home, with several novices on hands and knees scrubbing the floor with blank looks.

They seemed to neither hate nor like what they were tasked with, almost as if it were only a simple job, despite how muddied their faces and robes were. There were no men, or at least he couldn't find a single man who wore the grey robes of a novice. A strange thing until he remembered the aptitude of women when it came to serving the Seven Angels of Sepith. Perhaps it was only this branch that served the Angel, Ariandel.

Whatever the reason, Altair did not give it any more thought. 'We each have our paths.' The thought came and went, managing to calm that burning ache in his chest. His palm, which was a tight ball, loosened. And for a moment, he no longer needed to maintain Shadowheart. He did, of course; he didn't trust himself not to explode into a sudden fit of rage.

The Gods watching him were all chatting away in his log, shouting at the other, some offering blessings, gold, and so much more merely to be near him.

In the Great Hall outside the Throne Room, the sisters stopped before another woman, older with an even deeper sensation of etherealness about her, accompanied by a Ninth Circle Male.

"A male guest!" The man said, brushing loose strands of hair from out of his face. "You must be the one who released such a dreadful baleful intent outside." He gave a mocking smile. "Are you here by chance to seek the Waters of Purification?"

His words went through one ear and out the other. Altair hadn't time to think about men who thought themselves above him. Canon Fodder hadn't a place in his presence.

Just then, a quiver ran across his shadow as Raven appeared like a ghost, startling the four women of Sepith. Their eyes nearly popped from their skulls. A surprising reaction that Altair was sure to inquire about later.

"It is done, your grace," Raven said. "And might I recommend we hurry? There isn't much time."

Altair's expression appeared as if it were carved of stone. "Is it that bad?"

Raven gave a grim nod. "Yes" was all she said.

Altair showed no reaction, betrayed by the blazing fire behind the eyes. He closed them, releasing a steady breath.

"Send for Vaiga, Hilda, and Nia. I need Nia. Her eyes shall prove useful. And have Athena also sent a few sisters of her Faith into the Tower. If she is not in the Palace of Stygian, forget it."

"I've already informed your Forsaken that they are to be on standby until further notice," Raven answered seamlessly. "You need only say the word, and they shall appear."

That brought a smile to his face. Raven was proving worth many times over.

Altair opened his mouth to speak, but the man suddenly stepped between him and Raven.

"Reid Atwater" was the first and last thing he said, for the palm that struck his face had been so thunderous it turned stone to gravel. An earth-shattering explosion roared through the Great Hall as the imprint of Reid's body imprinted itself across the wall. He would have gone through it if not for the wardings that flashed.

Raven didn't so much as glance at Reid, asking, "Shall I get rid of him completely, your Grace?"

"What have you done!" One of the Three Sisters of Sepith that had followed after him demanded. Her face was a mixture of confusion and horror. "You are in the Temple of Sepith; violence is outlawed on these holy grounds!' Ginger hair, with a light dust of freckles, her face was a portrait of beauty and rage.

Thunder rolled across the temple, sending a stir through the castle. The sound of Reid's body hitting the ground, moaning absently with a broken jaw and a shattered eye, pulsing with a ghastly amount of blood. The slap wasn't enough to kill someone of his level but enough for him to hold his tongue.

There was no acknowledgment of this lowly creature, almost as if he didn't exist. The same could be said for the Ginger Sister. Altair didn't so much as pay her mind. He came here to seek questions, not be insulted.

Three of the Four sisters rushed to Reid, casting a healing spell to mend the wounds they sustained.

"Lord De Nier, I demand an answer! Why did you break the—"

"How long are you going to watch?" Altair coldly announced. " I am growing impatient, Saintess."

****

Ignoring the fact that Altair had ogled her with his eyes but did not immediately recognize had been something Riena had decided to ignore for now, at least for now. It wasn't his fault. Seraphine was something not even her Master fully understood. An element that wasn't an element. A power that existed beyond the bounds of common sense.

'Still, if he loved me, he should have recognized me!' she determined, grounding her teeth.

The killing intent that had stormed the temple had been something of a shock, reminding her of her time battling alongside him against hordes of demons back in Yarwin. It had grown considerably since then. It was almost unrecognizable.

Smiling to herself, she continued scrubbing the floors alongside Syris.

****

The doors from the Great Hall to the Sanctuary and the sound of rushing water filled his ears.

"Saintess!" The four sisters of Septih said in unison, falling to a knee before they even stepped through the threshold. Even Reid, who had healed up quite nicely, fell to a knee.

Altair ignored them, attended by Raven, stepped through the threshold, and a great wave of serenity overcame their senses, sending running down his spine. The chaotic emotions he had developed a system to maintain a perfect calm fell silent for the first time in years as he walked forward.

Stone pillars depicting the sixth Angels of Sepith, three on each side, stood erect, their faces portraying something of a perfect likeness both in body and soul. Behind each pillar stood rivers of azure blue water seamlessly flowing, purifying the air with its presence.

'That must be part of the Water of Purification,' Altair determined, turning an eye not to the maiden on her knees before the seventh statue on a circular platform, Ariandel, veiled in a ceremonial gown that covered the majority of her face, her back bore six wings, two covering the top half of her face, two used to cover her body and the last appearing as if to fly.
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"So this is Ariandel…" he said, slightly in awe. Despite not actually being before him, he could feel the purification from the waters around them actually came from this one statue. "I wonder what your relationship is to my father…"

"We do not blame the Son for the Father's misdeeds," The golden hair woman on her knees said. A kind smile on her face. "Will you pray with me?"

Altair blinked. That was not what he expected to hear. "I do not follow your faith."

The woman grinned, expressing a beauty that was as pure as the waters around her. "And whom do you worship: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, or sloth? You have chosen one of them as your Dao?" Altair did not speak, though the woman did not appear to wait for an answer. "You worship one of them, following their doctrine to gain something. Am I wrong?"

If Altair could answer, he might have. Instead, he asked, "Who are you?"

"I am the Saintess of this Temple, Lord Snow," she answered, her warm expression annoying him for some reason. "Will you allow me to finish my prayer? It'll only take thirty more seconds."

Altair felt something akin to ignorance staring at the woman on her knees. He was in a rush, but for some reason, despite how annoyed he felt, he could not understand why he felt a layer of respect. It didn't make sense. How could he respect anyone who worships another? Still, he nodded nonetheless.

The woman whose name he did not even know smiled, closing her eyes as she continued her prayer. When she was done, a breathless sigh left her as she stood up, offering a curtsy.

"It is quite the honor to meet you, Lord Altair Blackwood Snow. We did not think you would be related to the Snow family."

Altair ignored his system logs blowing up, especially his father talking his shit in chat.

"Is my family so known?

"Your Father, not so much, but his younger Brother, the Silver Devil, is infamous. He is recognized as both an Angel and a Devil. Though it is a shame the Second Monarch of Hell chose the Throne of Irkalla. A true shame."

"We all have our Paths," was all Altair had to say on the matter. He didn't know much about his father to continue the topic.

"True, but it's not too late for him. Nor is it too late for you."

Altair had to blink, almost exploding into laughter. "I've already chosen my path."

"Your Grace, nothing is ever too late. You merely have to ask your Master."