Page 46 of Angel in Absentia
Sworn to secrecy, Ruedain scientists were enthusiasts of a unique kind. They had been partners in thought, exchanging passionate letters with Clea to help answer questions about the science of the heart. Eager to help support their discoveries, Clea had offered everything she had to the Ruedain labs on her first visit, one of those being one of the most valuable things she owned: the truth of her journey.
“It’s kind of beautiful,” Iris said with a historian’s fascination. She moved around the table, so she could carefully look at each side of the weapon without touching it, cradling a glass of water in her hands.
“They’ve managed to learn quite a bit more than expected about Insednian culture and the soul captured at the top,” Merune said, voice even and calm. “It’s a peculiar innovation. The soul, with its natural cien-draining ability, ultimately creates a blade that will drain cien from anything upon contact. I’d suggest we use something like this if blessings could bind souls to weapons too.”
“I don’t understand why ansra insists on punishing us with its rigidity, but it’s what we have,” Idan said, walking back out to the patio to finish his cigarette. “Merune, join us tonight. We’re going out.”
“Excuse me, ladies,” Merune said and took slow, lumbering strides out to the porch to talk to Idan.
Meanwhile, Clea inspected the weapon with Iris. Iris’s finger hovered over the metallic vines and the skeletal beast that held the orb in its mouth. In her ignorance, Clea hadn’t realized how unique of a weapon it was at the time. If so, she likely would have pried more than she had.
“Makes you wonder whose soul is in there, doesn’t it?” Clea whispered. “There are so many things I just didn’t think to ask.”
“Hmm, I imagine if you’d known to ask, you also would have known too much to have trusted him like you did,” Iris said, lifting lab papers from the case and flipping through them for a moment. She tapped her fingers against some of the notes. “The peculiar thing is that it seems like this weapon has two parts, but due to the powerful pull of the soul, it takes an incredible countering force to unlock it. We’re talking a tremendous amount of cien, based on these readings,” she said, eyes flickering over the papers.
“It looks like a key,” Clea said without thinking.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Iris looked it over with raised brows. “I would hate to see the door.”
Clea chuckled at the thought, eyeing the scythe before she heard the papers clap down against the table. She glanced over to see a look of concern on Iris’s face. Iris looked out at the porch at Merune before picking the papers up again and rifling through them.
“What? What is it?” Clea urged in a whisper.
“Idan!” Iris called.
“What?” he said back, he and Merune both peering inside at her apparent urgency.
“Did you ever get permission to investigate Vanida Regalia’s burial site?” she asked urgently.
Idan tossed his cigarette off the porch. “Iris!” he complained. “That was supposed to be a wedding gift.”
Iris looked over at Clea. “Idan has been working on investigating some of your questions and theories as a gift to you.”
Clea looked back at Idan, tilting her head as her expression softened. She had mentioned to him several months ago about her interest in checking the graves of the ancient heroes. She hadn’t expected him to act on it so thoroughly.
“Well, it’s ruined now,” Idan said. “I was hoping to have a certified Ruedain historian provide a presentation to us about it, explaining the validity of some of your theories and whatnot.”He waved his hands as if the idea were a bug he was now trying to swat off.
“Idan, you didn’t—” Clea started softly.
“What was there?” Iris interrupted.
“It was empty, but—” Idan started.
Iris interrupted again. “Were you going to explain this too?” she asked, pointing at the weapon, her abruptness startling them all. She pointed to a tiny sigil carved at the base of the weapon’s hilt.
They all leaned over it, but none of them seemed to recognize what it was. Clea found it vaguely familiar but couldn’t place it.
“What?” Idan said, perhaps the bravest one of them to push Iris in the state she was suddenly in.
“It’s a blacksmith’s sigil.” She directed her attention to Merune. “You didn’t look this up?”
Merune, thankfully, seemed to be a rather mellow character and replied to Iris’s fire only with calm detail. “We combed through all of our books on Kaletik, Venennin, Insednian, and all other forest symbols. We found similar symbols, but none that made any sense.”
“Because it’s not a forest symbol,” Iris said, flustered. “That is Oliver Padren’s blacksmith’s sigil.”
Merune and Idan exchanged glances.
“Iris,” Idan said as if embarrassed by her outburst. He rubbed his head. “You’re saying a Veilin made this?”
