Arden watched the prince and his bodyguard leave, leaving himself with the wizard pope. He glanced at the warm expression worn by the old man. Knowing that he was someone of renown as well made Arden wonder if being separated from Nux was truly better.

  “Your master is gone for now,” the pope said. “Would you care to join me for a walk, child?”

  There were no footsteps when he arrived. He had just appeared in front of Nux, Bellum, and Arden. The pope’s power was kept hidden, but he still showed his prowess with what seemed like teleportation.

  Not wanting to upset the pope, Arden nodded his head and followed behind him. It only took a second for Arden to regret his decision, as he was shown another display of power. When the pope took a step, he left a blackened footprint on the ground beneath his feet.

  ‘I miss Vera and Sya. That was more my kind of power disparity.’

  “I’ve seen you around with Nux before,” the pope said. “You’re his personal attendant, right? The mute?”

  When Arden nodded again, he knew that he couldn’t rely on nodding or shaking his head for his entire time here. He needed to come up with some sign language fast.

  Arden’s eyes stayed glued to the pope’s feet, or more accurately, the grass that quickly turned to ash beneath his mighty tread.

  ‘I guess that explains his lack of footwear. Wearing shoes of melting rubber would be unpleasant to say the least.’

  “Eh, that’s part of it,” the pope said. “My role as the Helios Saint has me maintain a close relationship with the world and all that the sun protects. Plus, I can control the burning.”

  Before Arden could properly react and freak out, the pope casually waved a hand over his shoulder.

  “Yes, I can somewhat read minds. It's a secret, so don't tell anyone.”

  ‘Was that a joke about being mute?’ Arden grinned in spite of himself, finding it somewhat funny. ‘No, I shouldn't laugh. It's a bit tasteless.’

  “As is pretending to be a mute,” the pope said quietly so that only Arden could hear him. “Follow me, child. I know a place where we can discuss things.”

  The pope led Arden out of the courtyard and through the vast property. Rolling green hills covered the estate, gently sloping up and down giving off the impression that this place was a sanctuary.

  Arden began to sweat. He was unsure if it was due to his nervousness on being found out or the heat of the pope’s powers. Regardless, he had no intention of becoming ash, so he did as he was told and followed behind the pope. It wasn’t like Arden had a chance of escape, considering the pope had essentially teleported earlier.

  As they proceeded through the vast property, the majority of the other workers stopped what they were doing to pay respects to the old pope. Most of them got down on one knee and looked at him with reverence burning in their eyes.

  “May the blazing sun provide warmth for you, your grace,” they all said.

  Every time they were stopped by a worker, the pope would respond in kind, holding out a hand, as if kindly signaling them to stop. His hand released small waves of warm energy, and the air around his believer simmered slightly, like heat rising from the road on a hot day.

  “And to you too.”

  After receiving what Arden believed to be blessings, the workers would give their thanks and get up, returning to their jobs with renewed vigor. They worked faster, and their exhaustion diminished.

  Arden watched them work as he and the pope continued, wondering if their increased speed was the result of the pope’s power, or belief.

  “Both, actually,” the pope said, still reading Arden’s mind. “We can talk about it soon. We’re coming to the place I mentioned.”

  Everywhere, workers tended to the green grass that made up the majority of the property. Though many of them were covered in dirt, none of them looked displeased. They all looked at the work they were doing with satisfaction.

  “This is my favorite part of the property,” the pope explained to Arden. “This place shows more than any other the core tenet of the Helios Church. You may see workers toiling away, but I see hospitality. The results of a kind lord who wanted to help those below him, like the church preaches. With the exception of the lord’s advisors, every worker on the property comes from low status. However, to the lord, they are equal as people.”

  As he spoke, a young woman with long silver hair and copious amounts of dirt on her clothes ran through the field carrying yellow drinks to all of the workers. All of them thanked her warmly and continued their work. The grime covering her face was not enough to distract from her beauty. It seemed Nux wasn't the only one here with inhumanly good looks.

  When she noticed Arden and the pope she eagerly ran over to greet them.

  “Grandfather, you made it!” she beamed. She held up a pair of drinks and offered them to the pair. “Want some? It's freshly made!”

  ‘Grandfather?’ Arden thought.

  “I would be delighted, princess,” he said, taking a glass with his free hand. “Would it be alright if my young friend here had some as well?”

  She looked at Arden and smiled wide.

  “Of course! On the condition that he doesn’t address me as princess like you,” she winked.

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  Arden and the pope made eye contact for a brief moment before the pope responded.

  “That won’t be a problem for him.”

  *****

  After the pope explained that Arden was mute, the mortified princess apologized profusely to Arden. Several times.

  Arden did his best to assure her that it was no big deal with a mixture of vague hand signs and the occasional interjection by the pope.

  Very soon, Arden would run out of fake sign language and would have to substitute by throwing out gang signs he learned from his life of living in the slums. As amusing as he thought that would be, it probably wouldn't help him, unless he could bluff to Nux with them like he had earlier. When the princess left to tend to her workers with a beet red face, Arden shot a glare towards the pope smiling with smug satisfaction back at him.

  ‘I thought priests are supposed to help people. Not make it harder for them.’

  The pope slapped Arden's shoulder with a laugh.

  “Priests, yes. Pope of the Helios Church, kind of. I'm the living embodiment of helping those who can't help themselves. I helped Princess Rin, who didn't know that you were ‘disabled.’ You definitely could help yourself, by the simple virtue of talking. So I let you flounder for a bit.”

  ‘You’re a weird pope.’

  “Find me one religious figure who isn't a bit of an oddball. I just try to have fun. I take my job seriously, but I also am known to cut loose.”

  ‘Your church must love having such a free-spirited leader.’

  “Actually, yes they do. Helios adherent numbers have been at an all time high, as has my approval rating. Turns out, showing that you're not different from the common man goes a long way.”

  Arden thought about the politicians in his world, and how they all tried the same thing, and how they all failed because everyone could see right through them. Both of them took a sip of the drinks that were provided by them. Arden was pleased to realize that the mysterious concoction created in a strange world was in fact lemonade.

  “She makes a mean brew,” the pope said, leading Arden to a part of the field that was empty of any workers.

  In the middle of the empty area was a lone tree, its branches reaching as high as the castle spires. Its leaves shimmered in the light with hues of gold and silver.

  “Have you ever heard of the legend of the Tree of Life?”

  ‘If I said yes, would that make me a heretic for acknowledging a pagan god?’

  “Of course not. The Helios Church is no Dawn Order.”

  ‘In that case, I've heard of something similar.’

  Yggdrasil was one of the most popular myths in Arden’s world. He knew it, and Sya made sure to call it out anytime she read something that referred to it. But there was another tree in Arden’s life that had recently become more important than the dubiously existent world tree of Norse mythology.

  The Great Grave Archwood. The lore of the Mausoleum of the Maverick was something that was hard to forget about, especially when a living, or rather undead, vestige of its history literally burned into him.

  The pope continued.

  “It's a legend that exists in myths across the world. It's the sort of thing that makes people wonder if it actually existed due to how many folktales across the world have similar elements.”

  He gestured at the tree standing in front of them.

  “Some people believe that the reason the Valtorin family is as successful as they are is because they managed to tap into its power.”

  Arden looked up at the majestic tree in front of them, skepticism shining in his eyes.

  ‘Are you saying that this is part of the Tree of Life?’

  The pope laughed.

  “No. I'm saying that some people who work here believe it. That's why there's no one here. They believe that this is hallowed ground.”

  ‘Is it?’

  “If you believe that belief is the source of divinity. Lots of people believe it, so to them this place is special.”

  ‘That's a cop-out.’

  “Is it? You were at my side earlier when I gave the believers my blessing. They believed in me, and I am the proxy for the Helios. I have its power, and I was moved by their belief, so I gave them the lord’s blessing. God exists. Magic exists. Belief might not be a tool that is able to physically attack someone, but it is as real as everything else. And it was because of their belief that I gave them some help.”

  Arden swallowed the pope’s words. What he said had some merit to it, as expected of a religious figure. Belief and conviction did have strength, now that Arden thought about it. The Maverick, for example, believed in the Great Grave Archwood even after it was deposed as the Sovereign of Death. That conviction was what led the paladin Rogier to become corrupted and end up as the forlorn Maverick.

  ‘I'm not a religious person,’ Arden thought. ‘I never felt that it was bad, just that it wasn’t for me.’

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not trying to convert you or anything like that. I just want you to try believing in something. Whether that’s god, people, or yourself, it will take you further. You just have to want it.”

  The last words hit Arden like a lightning strike. Vera told him essentially the same thing. That wanting to get stronger was imperative to actually getting stronger.

  She was no doubt acing her trial with flying colors currently. Arden knew that she was just that good, and that resourceful. But even still, he couldn’t help but worry about her.

  ‘...Can we get back to the tree?’

  The pope didn’t miss Arden’s sudden mood shift. He could hear the young man’s worry in his inner voice.

  “Right. Some people think this place is hallowed ground. Part of that comes from how they know I regularly come and go to this tree. They think I’m doing Helios Saint stuff, when I’m actually doing arcanist stuff.”

  ‘Arcanist stuff?’

  The pope gave a small smile.

  “I’ve made some changes to the tree over the course of my life.”

  The pope held his staff forward, and the tip started glowing orange and yellow. An intricate pattern composed of many concentric circles and stars glowed red on the ground beneath both of them. Arden watched in fascination as red energy rose from the magic circle and swirled around them like a maelstrom. He was surprised at the lack of pressure or heat that came from the spell.

  The pope began to speak. To Arden, it sounded like gibberish, like the words from an ancient forgotten language were being spoken in reverse. When the pope finished his last word, the swirling energy rushed toward the trunk of the tree, and formed a round yellow spot, the size of a man.

  Arden recognized what the pope had just created.

  A stargate. A yellow one.

  “In we go,” the pope said.

  Before Arden could properly react, the pope grabbed his arm and led him inside the stargate, and it closed behind them.