71 Epilogue Part 2

Smoke sprouted like sapling plants above Haringpoint's now humiliated skyline, in contrast to the descending snow that fell down upon the peninsular capitol of the now 'Ameliorated' Slaegian Empire of the Usurper Prince's newly built dominion. But it was not smokes of a War's pernicious furrow, but the smoke of dynamism. The Tyr Rianni Occupiers and their otherworlder masters had scrounged together as many young lads whether from afar or nearby from the old decrepit former Capital to begin the reconstruction of the city. Supplies not seen since better days began to spew back like reinvigorating blood to Haringpoint sparking some hope back to life for the denizens of the city. Some still refused to accept that the Empire is no more, clinging to whatever vain hopes still stubbornly lingering in their hearts. Others, especially of humbler lifepaths did not see much of a difference of challenge in their poverty outside of the more charitable than previous records of acts of generosity or in some cases, roguery. 

For Haelionni, the former Knight, she was, if unofficially sanctioned by the God of Love and Family, Yher as its lone guardian maid of the Orphanage amongst the semi-ruins of the Cathedral District. Despite being the least important in terms of practicality functions in the city, mostly of former ceremonial buildings and a few shops then and there, the district was unusually well sanctioned by whatever grace of the Gods still left of the faithful amongst the ravages of the rest of Haringpoint. There was fairly enough food and provisions to feed and heal those who live or dared to come by its walls. Most of the Otherworlders tend to avoid venturing so deeply into the spiritual heart of the city, mostly focusing their efforts amongst the industrial and commercial districts across the other side of town. 

Yet such an unusual amount of prosperity only seemed to breed jealousy rather than solidarity. Many such folks would sometimes organize makeshift raids into the old Cathedral District to take a slice of such prosperity. By force if necessary.

"Standback!" Haelioni stood guard, alone by what remains of the unspoiled supplies her charitous group could ration amongst the squatting sickbeds and disadvantaged masses she ventured out. If these supplies were to not fall to those who need it the most, the beggars, the lame and the abandoned. They are surely not going to survive the next bitter winter night.

"Oh I am gon'to get them! And maybe some of you too!" the riotous bandit growled as he held his shortswords towards her.

"Me first! I haven't had any real food fer'weeks!" another rogue cheered.

"I won't let you take them!" Haelioni tried to keep a stiff upper lip. But what is woman, in Convent clothes could do against ten men of superior size? Even if she is a Knightess, the odds are not stacked into her favor, and there is if not ever likely of a chance for backup to rescue her.

The former knight prayed to Yher for strength to be the shield of those who were forsaken.

"Its feeding time gir---" the bandit leader stepped forward only for his chest to suddenly rupture in blood. A loud thunderous bang roused the otherwise serene sanctuary for the down trodden.

"Get down!" a hooded figure, wielding a staff yelled from above the ruined windows of the sanctuary yelled as he aimed his stave towards the intruders who dared defiled this charities ground with their avarice.

The mysterious savior in this quagmire of despondency stormed like the cold winter wind and swept across the bandits, smiting them from this sanctuary with righteous disgust for their greed. And just like how swift the wind is, the wolves either lay dead on the floor, or the cravenly smart of them fled away.

Many of the injured and sick cowered by the mysterious man, he maybe their deliverer from those of evil intent. But his visage emitted a reap-heavy aura. The children and those who could still barely walk huddled close to Haelionni as the figure approached them.

The former knightess held her sword straight towards the mysterious figure, fearing he was only here to eliminate the competition. 

"Who are you! What do you want from us? Can't you see we barely have anything left?" she yelled.

As if seeing her trepidation, the figure allayed his steps. He sheathed his stave away, barely catching a noticeable glimpse from his stave of exotic design. Was he some distant traveller from the far-east. Upon sheathing his stave, he reached into his back and out came a large bag of holding. To her prayers answered, Haelioni saw the new arrival of more supplies she could use to foster the sick and injured. And feed those of famished stomachs.

"I bring you alms for you forsaken souls." The figure answered. His left hand reached for the inside of his shirt and out came the shepherd's crossed staff. The Holy Symbol of Yher, a fellow disciple of her faith.

"Yher be praised." She smiled, letting her guard down. "It is okay, this man is here to help us." She turned to those who hid behind her shielding grace.

"It is good… to… actually meet you face to face." The man told her.

"You have heard of me?" Haelioni questioned.

"Not just hear of you, but I have watched you from the humble shadows of these ruins. Sending you letters, dropping you gifts." The man knelt down and unpacked the many myriad supplies he carried on his bag. "It is now, because of this coming winter now I have to help you. Face to face." He explained as he handed several poultices of medicine to the knightess along with bread to eat.

"You!" the Knight's eyes widened. "You are 'the Father' from the letters?" her surprise elate into happiness. If there was still one thing that kept her through this troubling times. If not the silent protector, greater than her of these forsaken ruins.

The man soon noticed the decrepit, state of the so-called Sanctuary of Haelioni that she and her surviving clergy folks had set up across the Cathedral District. He needed, duty bound to turn this slum into a proper hearth if it was the last breath he swore to take. He approached a dead fire place, its ashes still lingering and added extra kindling onto it before flicking some whetstone to create a spark of a warming fire into this slowly icening land.

It was a breath of fresh air, or sunlight in that case for the sanctuary's charges. A small reprieve from their plight.

"Here take a sip of this." The hooded man let one sick man, suffering from dysentery take a sip of one of his healing poultices.

"Uh… 'Father'… how were you able to get all of this stuff here? Pass the…" Haelionni's curiousity of her mysterious benefactor got the better of her.

"Please… you can call me Rudy." The man immediately answered, revealing his name.

"Rudy… how…" but the Knight was interrupted by him once again.

"I have ways… but perhaps… another time." He nodded to the sick man before processing through the rest of those forsaken folks inside the sanctuary.

Silently, the Yherite Sanctuary ate merrily with health and nourishment as everyone was fairly given what is according to their needs. Even with 'Rudy's' help, it was a tiring affair for Haelionni, who upon finally doing as best as she could to the last of her charges collapsed near a rock of rubble she fashioned as a stool. Sheltered below a semi collapsed roof she would play a few hand games or marbles with the children or commune with them as best as a single fostering mother could.

"That should be all of them…" Rudy laid aside some flat rubble at a nearby corner like a makeshift stool and sat there. Taking a relief of his own with a leather drinking sack from his cloak of water's cooling kiss. 

Rudy unfurled his mask to reveal a lively smile on his lips that warmth the children, the sick and Haelionni in the shelter. It was a fatherly smile, a smile of momentary contentment for deliverance of compassion to those who had no one to care for them.

"Thank you… sir" Haelionni bowed.

Rudy couldn't help but smile humbly. This is just the first of many of his under-table foray's into the bleakest hearts of his new Mission. And by his God above he will do so again.

The Missionary, Father Rudy Bishop's hope he could foster those abandoned by everyone he could embrace them where nobody else would. Having taken care to mask himself in as much indigenous items as possible outside of his trusted shotgun and pistol for perfection. He had seen the adverse effects of unmitigated capitalism, industrialization and urbanization from past worlds he had the duty to shepherd. He knew what happens to those of flat-foot to when such progression marched faster than they could keep up. Of how they will stumble, be left behind and fall further into the mire's grasps. Doubly so for these natives now even more left in precarious positions now that the War had left its trail upon their now attritional souls. He will be damned if he see's these abandoned ones be left to fend for themselves. 

He became the silent guardian of the Cathedral District as it slowly arose from its ashes. Making those he had dispensed of his charity to be his like-minded Disciples. Rudy did not care of the native's alien they had. But what truly matters now he brings hope and unity to those who have lost them or never had them to begin with.

Haelionni Elussenol being his first of disciples for charity. A sapling seed that will grow from amidst the ruins, like its own secular miracle.

A warming fire to arise from these Ashes of a now dead Empire. For they receive the tired, the poor, those forsaken masses yearning to be heard, those wretched refuse of the Slaegian's Shore. The homeless, the tempest tossed flocked to them. Of whom the Salesian, standing tall as a new Colosuss more grand, more eternal than any Empire, Federation or Nation had stood firm. For the Disciples of Charity lift the hearthfire torch like a lamp upon their stone-arched portal door.

[-]

"I grow tired of you!" Mita turned her back on Faithleann. "Go chase Myths and throw yourselves unto the fire. I am leaving, and if anyone of here agrees with me. Take as much as you can carry and follow me!"

Where there was unity of 500, became divided between 300 for Faithleann's loyalists versus the Crow Master's 200. They along with a just departed for other shores for Prince Valorion's now exiled army of Ethuilen Elves towards the Suzerainities. For the Slaegians they bickered and quarreled of their next move to what happens next. Faithleann rallied for a retaliatory attack on the Otherworlders and Traitors but the Crow Master protests saying they should consolidate a new powerbase away from the prying eyes of their enemies within the mountains of the Ostalrocs.

"Go on then your vampiric cur!" he sent her off rudely as he witnessed those of lesser passions of him departed his camp with her.

News of Mita's true heritage had a surprisingly tolerant response amongst the Slaegian Survivors. Seeing such circumstances, they couldn't afford to turn down any form of help. Even from former enemies.

"Where should we go now Crow Master?" asked a battered down Legionnaire.

"South, just over the Aitasae Desert are the Southern Frontier Colonies. We can rebuild our strength from there. And then plan our next move." She explained.

"And what of Faithleann milady? He…" the Legionnaire mentioned.

"He can die pointlessly in a damn ditch if he wants. I am taking those who would listen for the long days ahead. There is much to do." She answered.

It would take a fortnight's journey for them to reach the now orphaned Slaegian Colonies south of the Ysanigrad Continent. Whether they can be allies, or their final killers she did not know. But she will be damned for every breath she takes she will defend those last embers against the tide of this new age brought forth. But for now, until they get there, they must depend on the charity or maybe lack thereof roaming hordes of nomadic raiders, Suzerainitie City States and whatever tribal trader comes their way every day just to survive.

Faithleann can chase for that so-called 'Legend-Sung' Battle against the Otherworlder's Armies by what few followers he has left. He would probably die trying or destroying what little is left of the Empire in the process for she had seen. She on the other hand shall contend with the longer game. If she can win against them, she best as well survive against the Otherworlders. Her only regret now is she didn't tell off at his idiotic escapades much sooner, and perhaps still Ghana's Wall would have been still standing, or more followers would still stand with them.

[-]

The celebratory dinner for the Nobles of Tyr Rian after Clovich's victorious feast was of fattening excess. Food, hearthfire and song warmed the halls of his Keep with midnight chatter. It was a time to unwind and mingle with his closest circle of supporters.

"Do you have any plans for yourself moving forward after this?" a journalist who was invited to participate in the festivities asked him.

"For now, I wish to savor my victory for the next few days to myself." Clovich briefly replied before dismissing her.

"My Pri--- I mean… your Imperial Majesty! There is something you must do! The festivities' Maiden Flower bestowment." One of his stewards reminded him.

He couldn't be so forgetful, in Slaegian traditions regarding festive balls, the Host would give one unmarried girl participating in the festivities a special reddish-purple flower called a Maiden Flower who caught his eye and then dance with her. This is romantic tradition was typically given to women that the Host desires marriage for. But it is not uncommon for the Host to pass the flower to relative. Of which Clovich does, by taking the Maiden Flower and bestowing it to the scandalous curiousity of onlookers to his Sister, Aria. She sat there in her table amongst her ladies in waiting with her crutches just as shocked as everyone else was.

  "You choose me?" Aria asked her brother

"But, I… I don't know how to dance! I only just learned to walk." Aria blushed.

"I can teach you, just how I was taught by the Federation too." He ushered her upwards.

Minstrels tuned their lutes as the siblings 

"For I did everything for you… You were my inspiration to create this Amelioration. We… everyone here no longer has to live in fear and pain anymore. All I bled, sacrificed, are for people just like you to have a future."

"I can walk, run and now dance thanks to you!" she smiled. "Now what? You want me to go out there in the world, meet new people? Stay here and take care of the dominion for your stead?" she chided.

"Anything you want now sister." The newly crowned Emperor whispers to her. "For we now have two things we never had. A Choice and Time." Clovich smiled.

They gently pulled each other away as the Minstrels finished their melody and gave a grand bow to the standing ovation of all in the room.