The Divine Defender VII

Andante Hemispherous (III)

The rays of the sun and crowing of cocks in a distant coop concerted to wake Kaleen each morning. She threw back the light blanket she kept and climbed gingerly off the top bunk. Andante had her back turned and slept facing the wall. Kaleen crept out of the bed and out of her room, into the deserted halls. Hers was the last room in the second floor hallway in the stone dorm. Down the hall every door was still locked. Kaleen ambled downstairs to the outer hall of the first floor, which was open to the grounds by numerous archways.

Kaleen marched down the stone plate steps that formed a path around the back of the dormitories. The grounds were very still without the noisy, cheerful Cherubim practicing atop the stone court of the training grounds. Kaleen saw nobody on her way.

A very slight decline toward the edge of the forest led her to a series of pools cut in stone for the use of the Seraphim and Cherubim. They had been recently filled with water and herbs, and there was a strong, sweet scent about them. The whole scene was quite serene. Kaleen carefully pulled off her gown, left it on a rack, and descended the stone steps into the pool. The water was cool and sent a chill through her, but this was expected. She needed the jolt. Laying back on the edge of the pool, sinking until the water covered her up to the nose, Kaleen closed her eyes and delighted in the calm.

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The Divine Defender V (fiction)

Andante Hemispherous (I)

Kaleen felt an urgency to answer. She was not exactly fond of Saul’s Kinetics herself, but she had found it useful as a girl and felt she should excuse her literary mistakes. Her tail wrapped around one of her legs, and she said, “It is hard to get updated books in Saint Abeni.”

The girl on her bed closed the book and reached out her arm to drop it on the bedside table. “You can borrow my volumes from Megistus, he understands quite well what the caster undergoes. They’re in my bag.”

“I’ve read some treatises by Megistus. I am concerned that he does not understand the anatomical differences in casters and focuses too much on spell procedure. A Cuporo could not leverage the same reservoir of strength as a theoretical Damakran.” Kaleen said, ears drooping. The conversation forced itself out of her almost by rote.

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The Divine Defender IV (fiction)

Kaleen Yweh (IV)

The armory was a temple to the spirits of war, raised off the ground behind the church tower, its exterior a series of pillars holding the concentric layers of white stone waves that made up the roof. They entered through an archway into a vast, open gallery lined with cases, chests and shelves of equipment. Statues of winged women with various weapons presided over the young Cherubim as they went about the cleaning and organizing of the arsenal, with a Sister or Mother infrequently patrolling one hall and vanishing out another. The center of the room had a circular island upon which stood a statue of their great ancestor, Mother Shiva, fully armored, her hair cast in mid-air as though by a storm. Kaleen always made a point that Mother Shiva seemed smaller now than she seemed years ago when Kaleen polished and sorted in this room.

Mother Leyka called out a blessing of the Spirits and a group of cherubim in their casual robes approached. They led the two women to the glass cases and gingerly opened them.

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The Divine Defender III (fiction)

Kaleen Yweh (III)

The road to Saint Abeni’s Mercy curved around a lake. The temple complex had stood near its waters for centuries. Walls of stone sealed the complex, its farmlands, part of the nearby forest and half of the lake – such were the wonders that their ancestors had built for them. The sisters tapped into their lake for the fields that fed them and for sacred rituals to Rashine. Their forest and fields grew life-giving amaranth, lentils, berries and citrus and other essentials. The convent was a small self-supporting community.

Kaleen approached the eastern gates with her battlegroup, her idle glance examining the bright noon sun over the lake waters. Behind her, the five Cherubim trainees in her patrol group waved a greeting to the women in the watchtowers, who returned the gesture with one hand – the other being occupied with the handling of a turret weapon.

The gates slid open for them, pulled by thick, snake-like arm golems, whose heads ended in two large digits that tirelessly gripped the doors. The mission was over. Kaleen felt the breathing of the monitor mage vanish from her mind. No more messages would need to be passed through their iron bands. They had returned to their sanctum, against which nothing would dare strike. The caravan had been set as right as it could be towards a small nearby village. Everyone had been informed of the courses to be taken from there. The Seraphim upheld their duty to the province of Bhisho as they had for centuries.

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