On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

Side One Hundred And Forty Three – Revelation-Cardinal Lorenzo Giudice

Lorenzo held in a bitter sigh as he glanced around the room. Numerous faithful followers of the Church of True Revelations were moving about, carrying heavy boxes, machinery and other items. A number of cables were trailing over the polished stone floor of the catacombs, and computers and other devices were set up in one corner, bring monitored by a number of the younger faithful, barely children to his old eyes.

I am too old for these new ways. Most of us are, alas. But il volere de Dio, the time has come now, and those of us who are here must be the ones to face it, for the glory of the Ninth Heaven. Beside him, someone coughed, and he turned, to see the reassuring white-haired and bearded figure of Maximillian Meyer, the Inquisition-Cardinal.

“There’s no point dwelling on regrets.” He said brusquely yet with kindness, his voice feeling a touch of melancholy. “With age comes wisdom, and we need that more than ever. As well as strength.” His hand curled on the grip of the Crucis Purgationis, as if he wished to draw it. “Our enemies are legion, and our allies sadly few. And the young… they are often reckless.”

“Mary Stuart.” Lorenzo let out another sigh. He remembered his mother, many long years ago, saying that sighing was happiness escaping from the body, and it was true. There is little happiness to be found right now. But duty comes before joy. No, the joy is in the duty. “She was too arrogant, too confident, too young, and she allowed herself to be defeated. Worse, the False Grail remains in the hands of the Royal Family of Britain, rather than allowing the faith which rightly belongs to us to return.”

“The woman is a failure. I knew she did not have true faith, like her departed grandmother. Magdalena Stuart would never have known defeat this way, allowing precious members of the Choir and Judges to die on foreign soil, and worse… allowing the Annulus Fortunae to be lost!” The harsh words from Luca Aloisio, the Judgement-Cardinal, boomed as large as his impressive size. “Such a fool, the Earth is not strong enough to support calling on the higher Angels, and her body is far too frail to sustain such things. Foolishness.” He spat.

“She yet lives, our faithful say.” Maximillian pointed out mildly. “And she failed, but she journeyed in faith, no? The Lord will welcome her to the Ninth Heaven in time, I am sure.”

“Faith must be matched by results.” Luca scoffed, leaning on his great breaking wheel, the working faithful making sure to give him a wide berth as they set up equipment. “And her results speak for themselves. She still lives, I hear, though broken and useless. Her Hallowed Ground remains, those of her allies too. Should we use them as a stage to launch another assault? I hear that Avignon has been secured, the Palais des Papes and the faith it holds secured. Ortiz and that old hag Konstantina would never fail, not until their old bones turn to dust.”

“Yes, the recapture of the false Papal seat and the faith it hoards is all according to plan. But we must be prudente, cautious. I suspect the Hallowed Ground remaining is a trap to see if we will be foolish enough to take the bait. I fear the chalice will be avvelenato, a poisoned one. His Holiness, God protect his gentle, faithful soul, has spoken, and his words of conciliation have spread, making matters… difficult. We cannot afford more discord with Britain yet, not until we have dealt with other matters.”

At that Maximillian looked embarrassed, stroking his beard ruefully. “I have no defence. Reclaiming Golgotha, Bethlehem, the other sites… it will likely prove difficult. I was unwilling to spend more Judges, what with the losses we are taking in Central and Eastern Europe. Do we have any more insight on that?”

“None.” Lorenzo said. “Speculation, nothing more. Perhaps some of the sleeping darkness has awoken due to our efforts, or perhaps the times. Il Armageddo, the End Times, they are stirring, and if we do not gather the faithful, the Ninth Heaven will recede from us.” They all crossed themselves at that, looking resolute. “Like the Inquisition of old, we must not eschew any methods, even burning our souls, plunging them into hellfire, if it gets us what we need. One of our most promising Judges, Sir Ardelean, is investigating, and if it is a creature of darkness, or even those who hold grudges against us, or others blessed by false, impious beings that dare to call themselves a God in mockery of the Throne, then he will deal with them.”

“Well said.” Maximillian approved. “I remember Alexandru Ardelean. A good, loyal man, and strong. Perhaps he can succeed me, when my time, my end comes.” He laughed self-deprecatingly.

“We cannot lose you yet, Maximillian. Not after Mary has fallen.” Lorenzo sighed. “So, what is the situation in the Holy Land?”

“The true practitioners of the Kabbalah have crawled out of their hiding holes.” Maximillian admitted, and Luca scowled, angered by those words.

“Those golem-creating sinners. I had thought the true Kabbalah was long destroyed, all that was left a mere hollow shell to ensnare the gullible.” He ground his teeth, and the breaking wheel creaked, long wooden stakes growing from the material threateningly.

“Peace, my old friend.” Maximillian held up a hand. “It seems our ancestors were not as thorough as they could have been. No, Kabbalists are cunning indeed, it is likely they simply went underground. Now, with their false chosen too, we simply do not have the forces to take action yet. With Avignon under our control though…” he pondered. “The influence of our faith in the East was never enough, so the roots of Cultivation and worship of these heathen kami still endure, but here in the West, most troubles have been stamped out, barring a few hidden cults such as the Faerie-worshipping Merched y Llyn, Dames du Lac, and others.”

“At least that fool Mary was ruthless in purging those.” Luca snorted darkly. “But da Dio, did you see that press conference?” he spat, staining the polished floor, and Lorenzo frowned himself, displeased at the impropriety. Though expecting politeness from our fiery Judgement-Cardinal is expecting the sun to rise in the West…

“I saw it, the same as you did. That Faerie, walking and speaking in front of the world, and the Queen and Princess of Britain accusing us. I have great sorrow that it played out this way, but to reach the Ninth Heaven, il Diavolo will throw many trials in our paths. But…”

“It should not be so soon. We have few eyes in the East, but China and their blasphemous Cultivators, who would usurp even God’s power to fuel their crusade for strength and eternity, they are being moved by something darker, so our analysists say. Japan is already starting to unify, and India, Indonesia, other countries with large populations and entrenched faiths, false though they are, are starting to tremble, like a pot left on the stove too long to bubble and overspill chaotically. There is a great deal of infighting, but they have the numbers and the potential…” Maximillian declared. “Of those I hate the so-called Cultivators more than anything. But they are not the greatest threat.”

“It is time for all to come together, all those of faith in the only true God, the Throne at the heart of the only Ninth Heaven.” Lorenzo said, and they clasped hands piously, those scurrying around them also praying. One person came forwards though, a diffident young man in a white robe. He was hesitant, but swallowing nervously, he steeled himself to speak.

“Peace. What is it, my child?” Lorenzo said.

“I’m… from the investigation department.” The man said. Ah, one of the Commandment-Cardinal’s men then. “Is now a good time?”

“For what?” Luca snapped, and the man paled, before pushing forwards.

“We’ve analysed the images from the press conference you were talking about, and… we have enough to be certain.”

“Oh?” Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “Do go on.” To think that technology and time has marched on so quickly. Nothing is simple anymore, the battlefields of faith are not just in the realm closer to Heaven, in Hallowed Ground and on Earth’s faithless soil. No, it is on Television and the Internet, a battle of ideas and opinions, beliefs and sins.

“If you would?” He pushed a few buttons, and one of the screens set up on the walls, surrounded by cameras, sprung to life. It was the British press conference that had forced their plans off-track for some time, trying to reason with the Pontiff and other Cardinals. “See here? Before, the angle wasn’t good, her hands weren’t in view.”

“The Faerie creature.” Luca spat again. “Godless being. There is no place for such as her in the Ninth Heaven.”

“Not true.” Maximillian said mildly. “If she has faith in the Lord, she can still be saved. We owe it to any intelligent being capable of reason to try and save their immortal soul from Hell. However… this one was part of the group that broke Mary Stuart. My Crucis Purgationis cries out for vengeance.”

“All that strengthens the Ninth Heaven should be considered, though the barrier to such salvation is high. Those not human, created in the Lord’s image, will often fall short.” Lorenzo agreed mildly. “So, what did you want to show us?” he asked the man.

“This.” He said softly, manipulating the images, bringing up the girl’s hand. There was a glitter of gold, but the picture was fleeting, the resolution bad. “We isolated it and ran it through fuzzy-logic AI filters, and post-processed it. Here it is, zoomed it.”

The image brought up her delicate hand, and on it gleamed a ring of gold. Then the image changed, the fuzz clearing, and they all gasped.

“That bitch, that abomination. That spirito maligno!” Luca was enraged, and this time Lorenzo and Maximillian shared his fury.

“The Anulus Fortunae! Stolen from Mary and worn so brazenly!” Maximillian grated.

“This will not stand!” Luca shouted, scattering the faithful at his booming roar. “I should gather the Judges, the Choir, and the Martyrs. I will have her head on a platter just like John the Baptist, and then preserve it with honey as a relic of a great sinner!”

“Peace.” Lorenzo managed after a moment, forcing himself to calm down. “I too share your deep ira, your rage. But it is hardly so simple. Even now the siblings are tied down trying to deal with the Sons and Daughters of Iblis, those impious fools who believe themselves devils. And those who can defeat Mary Stuart are not simple. We felt the Angels fall through our Linked Seraphim, no? They were but shadows of the true power, but managing more now would rapidly break what little protects us from Hell!”

“That is so.” Maximillian allowed, taking a death breath, relaxing his white-knuckled grip on the hilt of his relic sword. “Japan is proclaiming unity too. Getting forces there to strike would be challenging, and the risk of a total loss is too great. They are not trivial foes. No, we have reclaimed Avignon. We must consolidate, finish the battles on many fronts and amalgamate our advantages. The False Grail might be beyond our reach for now, and the Holy Land is fiercely guarded, but…”

“You have done well.” Lorenzo dismissed the shaking acolyte, who bowed and hurried off. Even now the catacomb was filled with spotlights and the blinking red of power lights. People were assuming positions, and Lorenzo knew the time was soon. Addressing his colleagues, those who shared the faith of the True Revelation, those unafraid to burn their souls and those of others to save humanity and take Earth to the Ninth Heaven, rather than let it fall into Hell, he grimaced, his expression wry. “There are two and a half billion Christians worldwide, of various denominations…”

“Only one is true. The rest are misguided fools.” Luca snorted.

“Yes, of course. Now hear me out.” Lorenzo chided gently. “Nearly two billion Muslims. Yes, there are the Children of Iblis, the many other radical groups and sects that will need to be brought to heel or dealt with, but even so… they do not know it, but they worship the Ninth Heaven. Then there are the Jews. So few, merely fifteen or so million. But again, they are under the purview of the Ninth Heaven and should be saved. Half the world. Half the world!” he continued fervently. “Four and a half billion souls who should be guided to salvation. Yes, erroneous beliefs must be corrected, and sometimes the sword must be wielded. The Kabbalists cannot be suffered to live, nor those who have thrown their lot in with false deities. Though even the walking dead can be saved, should they repent before it is too late. Many others will require the whip, and even those without faith, pagane, can contribute. It is never too late to realise that the Ninth Heaven, the Throne, is the only true way to salvation.”

“The sword, the whip and the honey.” Maximillian said, and Lorenzo chuckled.

“Yes, those who follow the True Revelation will be rewarded. After all, God is benevolo as well as stern. The faith, adherence to the Ninth Heaven, of four and a half billion souls, is a power no others, be they Cultivators, Devils or false deities, can hope to withstand. And such adherence, the grace of prayer, can create miracles. The crippled can cast away their sticks and walk, the lepers shall have unblemished skin, the poor shall see succour, and those of strong faith shall live eternally under the light of the Throne.”

“To think we should be forced to offer the hand to those who have perverted the true faith.” Luca spat yet again, but his face was set in an expression of acceptance. “But yes, it seems matters have advanced faster than we anticipated, or the Book of Revelations prophesised. But God tasked us this, and we will not fail, even if some of our tools are weak…” his gaze went to the frozen image of the ring on the hand of that Fae creature. “… we work with what we must and faith.”

“Exactly. And not everything is a failure. We have made many successes. Most matters are still going according to the Book.” Maximillian said, thinking. “But there is the matter of the words of his Holiness. He is calling for reconciliation. We are being watched by the elites of the Swiss Guard, the so-called Grigori… such a blasphemous name. Not that we would ever raise our hands to the Pope, such is unthinkable. But… we cannot allow his kindness, his compassion, to lead us to ruin. In other times, he would be the finest of Pontiffs, but now, in a time of desperate war and chaos, with Hell just waiting to spill over to Earth… now other leadership is called for.”

“You speak what we are all thinking.” Luca approved. “We cannot fail, not with the weight of four and half billion on our shoulders.”

“If only we were not so old and weary.” Maximillian laughed, the conversation coming full circle. “I hate those foreign Cultivators, but I certainly see the appeal of a longer, healthy life. Fortunately the power of the Ninth Heaven courses through us, and will sustain us as long as we need endure. Why, I feel twenty, no, forty years younger.”

“That will still leave you too old for battle.” Luca shrugged, though his bleak, angry mood had improved. Looking at the array of equipment around the room, he sighed. “One thing that useless granddaughter of Magdalena would have been good for is this. We are too old, too gruff.”

Surprised, Lorenzo raise an eyebrow. “Was that a joke, Luca, my friend? You are young enough compared to Maximillian here.”

“Perhaps.” He conceded. “Though the situation is without humour. I am much more suited to the battlefield. Soon I will head out and help the twins with their problems. Or reinforce young Alexandru. This task is not for me.” He gestured at the array of cameras.

“No, as Revelation-Cardinal, the task is mine. The cup has come to my lips, and now I must drink from it.” Lorenzo looked at the waiting members of the True Revelation, several young girls who were carrying small cases, filled with cosmetics and other items. “It seems even as old as I am, there are still new trials to overcome…”

********

“How does it feel?” Maximillian laughed from behind the array of cameras. At his amusement, Lorenzo merely shook his head, careful to avoid ruining the makeup that had been so carefully applied to his aging face, making him presentable for the cameras.

“Rather strange and a little unpleasant. I am no woman, to require such vanity. But the eyes of the world, the faithful will be watching, so we must all do our part.” No matter the indignity.

“Indeed we must. And now the True Revelation must spread white wings and soar, holy like the Angels, bringing salvation to those who believe, and furious like the dragon, whose breath brings ruin to the unworthy, the unbelievers.”

“Yes. His Holiness may preach acceptance and peace, but the world is not so kind. If he saves sinners that way, it is to his great credit, and I love the man, for his pure, devout heart. But he is not the man for now. We are.” Yes, I feel guilt, openly contradicting the words of the Pontiff, but I hardly do it lightly. In nome de Dio, I will speak the words that must be spoken. I will not deny the Lord God, the Ninth Heaven, no matter how many times the cockerel may crow.

“Revelation-Cardinal, are you ready?” One man asked, while others adjusted the cameras, the blinking of their red lights annoying. “We have received word that the broadcast will be shown across all of Europe. We had to call in some favours, and some might even lose their employment over it, but…”

“We all must sacrifice for the truth.” Lorenzo said piously. “Those who suffer will be rewarded. What of America, the East, elsewhere?”

“American coverage should be decent.” The man said, looking at his notes on a clipboard. “China is a no-go. We’ve lost people, they’ve vanished without a trace.” He paused mournfully, before continuing. “South America is largely covered, as is a few countries in the African subcontinent. We will not reach everyone, but enough. Word will spread.”

“Indeed.” Lorenzo crossed himself. “Word of the Lord always spreads. Very well. How long?”

“Two minutes.” The answer came back, and he squeezed shut his eyes, gathering his thoughts, feeling the weight of pressure. The setbacks we have suffered, while painful and tragic, are but the slings and arrows of fate. The losses cannot stop us, and we will triumph in the end. But every soul saved now, is another who can see the Ninth Heaven, and contribute to la gloria di Dio, the Lord’s glory. Those who follow the false path, I pray you forgive them, for they know not what they do, nor what their folly will cost us all. Though those who struck down Mary Stuart, and stole what belongs to the Lord… Lorenzo realised he was frowning, before smoothing out his angry expression. No, it would not do to look furious now. But as for those who raised their hands to the Revelation, the Princess of Britain, the Fae creature, that Japanese man… they will not be forgiven. After all, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life.

“Live in ten. Nine. Eight…” As the countdown sounded, Lorenzo opened his eyes, his gaze powerful and steely. As the countdown reached zero, he addressed the faithful, no, the very world with all the conviction he possessed.

“Good evening to all who believe in the Lord, and those who do not, but are good people awaiting salvation. I am Lorenzo Giudice, the Revelation-Cardinal of the Church. I speak to you now of the changing world, the threat of the Apocalypse, worse than anything you have read in your Bibles. For this is true Revelation. But first, I must apologise to you, your Holiness. Your kind words, your hope for reconciliation, they touched my heart, as I am sure they touched the heart of all God-fearing men and women. But the world is not kind. Only God and the Ninth Heaven is kind.” He paused for breath, allowing that to sink in.

“Love thy neighbour. Good words to live by, as said by the Christ himself. And just as his Holiness does, I love the devout, the pure of heart, the faithful. But for those who would accept these false powers, serve demons and false idols who disguise themselves as the divine, who would hasten the ruin of the world and plunge us all into damnation, I say no, I shall not turn the other cheek!” he roared suddenly, voice full of fervour and conviction, drawing all eyes to him, Maximillian and Luca nodding reverently.

I see. This is why it must be me. I am the one who caries Revelation in me, with me… his hand touched his own sacred relic, the book at his side. As words continued to spill from him, calling on all of Christianity, and the other branches of Abrahamic faith to unite and throw off their dependence on evil, he smiled angelically, seeming to glow as the energy of faith shone around him. There will be losses and sacrifices to come, but we have not prepared painstakingly for so long, suffered so much, kept the faith alive through war, famine, plague, schisms and even the advent of science and the diminishment of mystery, only for us to fail now and let the world taste Hell. All will be as our ancestors, our predecessors, God and his Angels themselves, have planned it…

“So, stand firm, gather together, keep your family, your friends, your co-workers, your neighbours on the right path. Root out those who follow impiety, and those who would refuse the Divine Revelation…”