[War Room, Escutcheon, Cranagan City] [February 9th, MC 081] [0937 hours]
Chrono Harlaown returned earlier in the morning, and upon learning that Yuuno had arrived from the Infinite Library, had called for an immediate meeting in the War Room. Nanoha and the rest of the frontline members, Griffith, Shario, and Aurion were present, seated around the oval-shaped long table. Yuuno sat near the front (Arf was tasked to look after Vivio), bespectacled, but looking much better after a day’s rest.
“I’m sorry, Yuuno,” Chrono apologized. “Something came up, and I had to go to the Saint Church.”
“It’s all right, I understand,” Yuuno said, smiling. “It’s good, nonetheless. Some of the details might be incoherent or lost if I had spoken yesterday, what with the travel and everything. Teleportation would have done me some justice, but Vivio wanted to have a little sightseeing, and she can be difficult to handle if she’s in a bad mood.”
Chrono and the rest chuckled. “She’s growing up fast, that girl,” Chrono said, smiling.
“True,” Yuuno agreed. “Becoming more like her mother, she does. Perky and energetic,” Yuuno continued. Nanoha, seated three chairs away from them, blushed slightly.
Chrono nodded. “Regardless, we’ll have all the time to catch up later. I believe you’ve found something, haven’t you, Yuuno?”
Yuuno nodded, and his demeanor became serious. “If all of you don’t mind, I’ll prefer this discussion to be made with a little more confidentiality. I’d think that you wouldn’t want to prophecy to be overheard.”
“The War Room is safe from eavesdropper and I trust my personnel, but yes, I’ll agree to it, if you really want it,” Chrono said. He looked at the rest, who also nodded despite their curiosity. “All right then.” A holographic screen appeared, and Chrono’s deft fingers tapped several keys on the board. Instantaneously, the room dimmed as curtains draped the open windows. A very soft humming could be heard, which was indicative of a magical field in place to impede anyone who intended to enter or pry.
“Thank you, Commander,” Yuuno said. He arose from his seat and turned to regard everyone present. “I’ll start from the beginning, then. As I’m sure all of you are aware of, Knight Carim Gracia made a prophecy—or rather, a warning—using her Ancient Belkan magic.” Everyone nodded again. “It’d be best if we review it again.” A small touchscreen appeared in front of Yuuno, and he quickly input several commands through it.
A huge holographic panel materialized in the center of the table, suspended in the air. A number of smaller inserts lined the sides of the screen. Mid-childan letters, elegant and cursive, filled most of the screen; a prominent block of text in the middle was characterized in Ancient Belkan. It was the prophecy.
“This is the original text of the warning that Knight Carim made. A translation would result in this,” Yuuno said, pointing to the screen. The block of Ancient Belkan minimized, and then Mid-childan letters began to replace the former. It read:
‘Bewareth the Signs of the End:
When the Lost Angel of the Silver Torch falleth,
the Crimson Star wilt falter,
and the world upon which gathereth the nine Jewels of the Star,
wilt enter the Age of Darkness.
When equinox turneth solstice,
and the two moons aligneth in opposition,
the Ritual of Ascension wilt be complete,
and the slumbering Princess wilt awaken.
Upon the restorers she will gift the Ambrosia of God,
And upon the world,
eternal rest within the tomb of stars.’
“We know of this already,” Fate said. “Knight Carim told us what its content was back before we even created
Escutcheon.”
“True,” Yuuno said, smiling. “My aim isn’t to retell it, however.” He tapped several buttons again, and the Mid-childan translation minimized. “It has occurred to me that the warning is heavily reliant on metaphors and figurative meanings. Not only that, it seems to point to an age where such things were prominent.”
Hayate frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not impossible that we’re not familiar with the prophecy. Modern literature and write-ups rarely portray such metaphorical insinuations; they are more direct, simple, and scientific,” Yuuno explained. “The prevalence of such practices has declined over time, given our ever-increasing workload demands and requirement to simplify matters. If we’re to understand this, we need to go back some paces through the window of history.”
“The past? Has similar warning been prophesied in the past?” Fate asked.
“Not to my knowledge, no,” Yuuno said. “However, some similarities
do exist in the manner in which this warning is portrayed with those in the past. When I received words from Commander Harlaown to investigate this, it struck me that the individual phrases, sentences, and words are not the only elements containing meanings to be unraveled. In fact, I suspect the entire warning and its linguistic properties may be a clue in itself.”
“How is that so?” Nanoha pressed, her curiosity apparent. “What form of linguistic properties are you talking about?”
“Language has a long and rich history, and its founding was perhaps the greatest achievement of men in the early stages of civilization,” Yuuno began. The central screen shifted, showing an image of a blue-colored sphere surrounded by two orbs—the satellite image of Mid-childa, orbited by its twin moons. “The planet has transformed over the eons, and changes brought about by the passing of millennia had greatly altered the world we know today.”
“The evolution of men—the forefathers of the Mid-childans—started several billion years ago, a rough approximation most archaeologists would agree upon,” Yuuno continued. There was an emerging fervor, a passion ignited, as he spoke, for history, to the Scrya tribe, was part of their lifeblood. His eyes reflected an unmistakable fire of enthusiasm when his favorite subject was put forth for discussion. The screen flickered and showed the early men of Mid-childa, which, with each progressing timeline, showed various improvements and advancements in socioeconomic, philosophical, technological, cultural, and even magical aspects. The discovery of fire, the wheel, the engine, agriculture and metallurgy, the founding of ancient civilizations, all were shown continuously. And more surprising was the achievements of early men in integrating magic and technology, primarily for agricultural enhancement, heralding the first success of magitech.
“These advancements would probably be impossible without the discovery of language,” Yuuno said. “Language that communicates, language that shares, language that identifies, and language that records, it encompasses all. From the most menial of conversations to magic and administration, language sparked one of the greatest revolutions in the world. As one linguist rightly noted, ‘a single sword may pierce the flesh, but a mere word penetrates through the flesh into the heart, mind, and soul’. And for hundreds of thousands of years, language has impacted Mid-childans in unthinkable ways that they become unnoticeable, a daily occurrence that is taken for granted because of both its simplicity and complexity.”
Yuuno tapped a key, and the screen changed. It showed miniature replicas of various forms of symbols and runes, the early language spoken by Mid-childans. “Before consonants and vowels were the glyphs, the most ancient of language. Its primary function back then was to describe and to tell, but because of the arduous task of communicating merely by drawing and illustrating, and possibly due to the limitation of creativity and use of paralanguages in the past, words modeled by intonation and phonetics gained prominence and became widespread.”
“While the history is interesting, I fail to see a connection between the warning and the language,” Kratos interrupted. “I understand that different people may have a different mother tongue and usage, but how does this connect to one another?”
“In a while, Vice-Captain,” Yuuno said. He was thoughtful for a moment. “Right, to get the idea, one of language’s most significant impacts was the rise of literature and philosophies. Poems, epics, proses, tales, and compositions, they became the natural feast of the mind, the source of inspiration and ideas. In fact, according to some texts, words were believed to be a gift from god, as was magic the miracle of god’s makings.”
“A gift from god?” Gabriel noted skeptically. “Isn’t that stretching it a little bit too far?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Yuuno answered. “In the context of ancient civilizations, whose cultures were significantly different from ours, it may be so. Words gave life to histories and anecdotes, to fables and sagas, which were the mainstay of societal and cultural erudition. Even the various faiths back then foresaw the power of literature, and had gained significant influence from the use of sacred texts and verses.”
“And I believe that is what we’re most concerned with, yes?” Tesla said.
Yuuno nodded and smiled. “In the course of Mid-childan history, religion was a vastly different landscape from what we can observe today. The earliest faiths were fractured, distinct, and sometimes even oppositional prior to their unification under the banner of the Saint King. There had been accounts of bloody religious clashes before, but we’ll leave that matter aside for now. What intrigue us are the traits these faiths had in common.”
“If I’ll hazard a guess, one of them would be the language?” Teana supplied.
“Precisely,” praised Yuuno, smiling. His fingers flashed again on the holo-screen, and the image on the central panel changed. Four stone-slabs with crude runic etchings were shown, each having distinct patterns and peculiarities. “Historically, the faiths of our forefathers could be classified into four major sects that worshipped four different deities. Depending on their beliefs, they had different use of magic and supernatural convictions. Animism was not uncommon then, with worships of the elemental forces of air and water, of fire and earth practiced openly, their priests and shamans beseeching the natural world to do their biddings. The sun and the moons were also believed to be great wells of magical powers that altered the world in subtle, mysterious ways known only to the worshippers.”
“Despite their differences, the similarities are uncanny, especially in their holy texts,” Yuuno continued, pointing to the screen. The images dimmed, and the verses were enlarged. Stanza by stanza, equivalent translation in modern Mid-childan for each of the four texts was shown. For they who read, curiosity turned to surprise, and surprise to fascination. Noticing their expression, Yuuno said, “See the similarity?”
“T-this is … unbelievable!” gasped Reinforce Zwei.
Agito, who was seated upon Signum’s shoulder, nodded her agreement. “I never thought such a thing is possible.”
“So was I, when I first saw it,” Yuuno concurred.
“It would seem that though on the surface the four religions appeared different, the context of their faiths were essentially the same,” Hayate said. “The only thing differentiating their contexts was …”
“Language,” Fate supplied.
“And transpositions on grammars, words, and other subtle nuances,” Nanoha added.
“The power of language, no doubt,” Griffith remarked. “But, even if we can see the differences, there aren’t any useful information that we can relate to the prophecy. The similarity between them with the warning is less than what they have between themselves.”
“Ah, yes, true that,” Yuuno said. “But, if we’re to isolate certain words …” He keyed several commands through the holo-screen, and a large portion of the texts vanished, leaving only a number of words still visible: ‘torch’, ‘moons’, ‘ritual’, ‘the Mead of the Heavens’, ‘the Fruit of the Gods’, and ‘the Nectar of the Paradise’.
“To the best of my knowledge, the practices of ancient religions were quite similar, even if their convictions were different. The core of the teachings varied slightly, but most of them preached the practice and incorporation of virtues to fulfill the words of the gods. More often than not, they required absolute faith and belief in the teachings of the religions.”
“And the dismissal of all other teachings that may contradict its own,” Xeno noted.
“Right,” Yuuno agreed. “This may seem hypocritical, but the influence of a faith depends largely on its ability to retain its believers. Back before the unification, such had been one of the chief causes of religious wars waged between the different sects. In any case, to counter the possibility of conversions or abandonments, the faithful were offered blessings and rewards for keeping true to their beliefs.”
“Those would be …?” Hayate asked.
“Transcendence,” Yuuno replied simply. “Or in a simpler word, immortality.”
“Absurd,” Signum said immediately. “Those are mere myths and legends.”
“Of course, but it was widely believed at that time that those offers were genuine,” Yuuno continued. “It was not helped but for the fact that the Torches fervently evangelized the supposed blessings for true faith.”
“Torches? Who are those?” Kratos asked.
“Priests, or alleged messengers of the gods. Symbolically, torches represent eternal light, the presence of the celestial beings that defeat the evil darkness and its metaphorical demons. Thus, anyone seen as being a holy person is deemed to be a Torch, one who is touched by the divine,” explained Yuuno. “Priests were common Torches then, along with rulers and leaders of various countries and factions, and considerable power was vested in them for their ability to ‘commune’ with the gods. The term was expanded then to encompass most of everyone who were part of the novitiate, including those who serve a higher purpose and greater good.”
“Then, the Lost Angel of the Silver Torch would be …?” Gabriel picked up.
“If my speculations were accurate, then yes, I expect the term to refer to one who is highly devout or possessing a religious nature. Reliability is tenuous at best, since this term is no longer prevalent in the society,” Yuuno said. “Even if it does, the pieces of the puzzle are still in disarray, and one can only refer to the Saint Church for more information.”
“What about ‘moons’ and ‘ritual’?” Reinforce Zwei asked. “What do they mean?”
Yuuno did not answer immediately, but tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment. “If what I have is dependable, this might be an important clue. As I’ve mentioned earlier, in ancient practices, the moons were believed to be nexuses of strong magical powers. It was a consensus among believers then that the moons were the source of Mana on Mid-childa, and presumably the kingdom of the gods, where they watch over the planet. There were wide-ranging speculations back then that certain natural phenomena, such as the changes of the tides, lunar and solar eclipses, and seasonal variations, were influenced by the mood of the gods residing in the moons.”
“Rightly so, in order to appease the gods and placate their wrath, rituals and tributaries were held at prescribed times and locations,” Yuuno continued. “Equally wide-ranging perhaps were the forms, proceedings, and incantations, but suffice to say that rituals were a common practice among the people. Magic was not well-studied and controlled back then, and while its main purpose was consigned to humanitarian benefits, there were accounts of rituals that went awry as a consequence of toying with spells and magic beyond their actual capabilities. In any case, if I remember correctly …” He trailed off, looking deep in contemplation again.
“What is it, Yuuno-kun?” Nanoha asked. “Is something the matter?”
“Hmm, among the four major sects, one of the rituals had always been viewed as sacred and never failed to be held when the astronomical signs were in place. Its importance was unquestionable such that it was declared a holy day for all the empires,” Yuuno said.
“Interesting. What is the ritual about?” Hayate asked. “If it’s that important, it might hold a clue.”
“Probably, but the ritual was more symbolic than it was of any real significance,” Yuuno said. “At the eve of the ceremony, which was marked by the exact shift in the moons’ alignment to create a change in the season, a devout person was supposed to be purified by the Torches so that he or she could receive the blessings of the divine. It involved baptism in holy water, fasting, and sacraments that lasted until dawn, complete with feasts and prayers by the faithful. A grand ritual, no doubt, but observed critically by all factions.”
“It’s doubtful that such an event is still practiced today, even in secrecy,” Tesla said. “The Saint Church, as far as I know, has only a few, if none, grand celebrations of that magnitude.”
“Indeed,” Yuuno assented. “But, the important clue may not be the reason why the ritual was held in the first place. If we consider the similarity, Knight Carim’s warning mentioned a change from equinox to solstice, which basically means a change of the season on Mid-childa. It also included a hint on the alignment of the moons. I believe that’s an important element as well.”
“Well, we know the ‘moons’ refer to the ones surrounding Mid-childa,” Nanoha said. “Is there something else about them that we should know?”
“Yes,” Yuuno replied. “I’ve checked the trajectories of the moons and their predicted orbital movements with the Aeronautics and Space Department.” A tap of the finger produced an image of the planet’s scan from space. The two moons were shown as well, one at each side of Mid-childa. “Rather surprisingly, they say that the moons are going to be in opposition as summer approaches. Well, if you omit Mid-childa being in the center, they will be as opposites.”
“What? Is that true?” they gasped. “Then, it fits the warning!” Reinforce Zwei exclaimed.
Yuuno nodded. “By far, this has the most significance among the rest of the warning. However, the possibility of it being true is minimal at best. As Tesla noted, such practices have become obsolete with time.”
“The same cannot be said for the enemies, however. We do not know whether they still observe the rituals or not, for starter,” Kratos said.
“True. But, even if they do, the supposed benefits of the ritual are next to impossible,” Yuuno replied. “No, let me rephrase that, they’re
definitely impossible.”
“What do you mean?” Kratos said, frowning.
“The Rite of Veneration, as it was named, was purportedly performed to prepare the said devout to receive the blessings of the divine,” Yuuno explained. “Oracles, soothsayers, bishops, prophets, all these were said to have been born from the ritual.”
“I don’t quite get you,” Gabriel admitted.
“Transcendence,” Yuuno repeated. “It was alleged that in the Rite of Veneration, the devout were given powers or abilities that were not mortal. The power of future sight, of oral persuasion, of miraculous healing of diseases that even the best magic at that time could not undo, these were the supposed results of the ritual. While it’s now known to be more powerful magic and rare skills today, such things were believed to be heaven-ordained. And in one case or another, it had been said that an angel was born from the sacred ceremony, one who received the ultimate gift: the Mead of the Heavens, the Fruit of the Gods, the Nectar of the Paradise. A parallel term for those in the warning would be the Ambrosia.”
“Is that even within the realm of plausibility?” Xeno said, amused. “Our forefathers did have a rather active imagination.”
Everyone chuckled. “Well, to be honest, religions were part of the foundations of civilizations back then, so it makes sense that they would view these things as important,” Yuuno explained. “Regardless, from most anthropological points of view, the Ambrosia is non-existent. It’s a figment of imagination, a religious icon, a myth.”
“What’s their view of the Ambrosia or whatever you call it?” Agito asked.
Yuuno pushed his glasses up. “The Ambrosia is commonly linked with religious practices. Most religions view Gods as the highest being, the paragon of virtues. The most devout and faithful are said to be able to attain godhood if they are blessed with the Ambrosia, a holy artifact bearing the divine waters from His Kingdom, thereby allowing them to join His eternal rank, enjoying the pleasures, bliss, and wonders associated thus.”
“That’s nonsense,” Signum retorted again. “There’s no such thing as godhood.”
“As an atheist, I’m probably not in a position to comment,” Aurion said, speaking for the first time. “But, I agree with Signum here that such powers are mere wild imaginations. We can dream, but not let dreams become our masters.”
Yuuno nodded. “True. Humans, however, are frail beings. Their superstition and beliefs are shaped in the face of uncertainty, whereby things that are not readily answerable by science are put in the context of theology. It gives them comfort to have somewhere to place their faith on and to seek answers from, even if they seem too far-fetched or unbelievable. Early philosophers and theologians saw its significance, and merely exploited the opportunity. Religions, by far, had the most success, with such grand offers in place.”
“Then, Yuuno,” Chrono said slowly. “What do you think the Ambrosia is?”
Yuuno looked up, his glasses flashing as he did so. “I’m sorry if this offends anyone’s senses, but in my opinion, it is … a paradox.”
“Paradox?”
“Yes,” Yuuno repeated as emphasis. “A paradox. Who would not want immortality and godhood if it’s within reach? If the Ambrosia is truly able to lift a person beyond eternity, then there is another possible way to achieve it without relying on a fictitious relic. Metaphorical, perhaps, but acceptably logical.”
“What is this other way?” Nanoha asked, her eyes narrowed curiously.
“It is …”
Everyone gasped.
But, their gasps were not drawn by the answer they received.
Rather, it was the person from which the word was uttered.
Their eyes turned and were fixed upon the speaker who had been silent for all the time, and, like Aurion, had been silent for the entire discussion until now.
“… death …” Leona spoke solemnly
* * * * *
When the meeting was finally adjourned, Nanoha and the rest filed slowly out of the War Room, their thoughts revolving around the enormity and revelations brought about by the discussion. Chrono and Yuuno were the last to leave the room.
“That’s quite a lot of information you have for us, Yuuno,” Chrono said, smiling.
“Most are still speculations, however,” Yuuno replied, returning the smile.
“They are valuable, nonetheless. At the very least, they give us clues as to what we should be expecting, rather than groping around blindly in the dark.”
Yuuno nodded, and a silence fell in the War Room. Chrono’s fingers danced upon the touch-board, inputting various data and information that he could already process into the interface. The curtains and anti-intelligence field were lifted, and color returned to the room with the sunlight that streamed in through the windows.
“Say, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Chrono,” Yuuno said, breaking the silence. He had reverted to his informal self, one he always assume whenever duty was not present.
“What is it?” Chrono asked without stopping his activity.
Yuuno took a moment to compose his question. “That lady … the one with azure hair and deep-blue eyes … who’s she?”
“Leona?” Chrono said. “She’s serving as a captain in the frontline. We lacked sufficient personnel back then, so she was recruited. She and her comrades worked in the Intelligence before, part of a special investigations squad.”
“Ah, I see,” Yuuno said, nodding. “That’s not what I meant, though …”
“What is your real question, then?”
Yuuno looked at the Chrono, his full-moon glasses glinting. There was a clear intensity in his eyes hidden behind those lenses. “How is she connected to one of the most confidential of the Bureau’s secrets, one that required authorization from at least five high-ranking personnel to unlock … a Pentateuch Archive codenamed
AISHA?”
Chrono’s fingers stiffened in mid-air, and there was an almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his eye that was very rare of the cool and calm Commander. A pregnant pause ensued, in which no one moved or spoke, the silence broken intermittently only by the sound of the computer’s machinations.
Then, turning slowly, emerald eyes meeting emerald eyes, Chrono broke the spell of quiescence.
“How did you know of this?”