Apostles of Doom

Hilda entered their meeting room to find Beragamos already there and setting out wine, cheeses and sausages, along with some pickled vegetables. “What a treat!” she exclaimed happily. Beragamos had left a message for her saying that he would be bringing the wine tonight; he had not mentioned the snacks.

Moradel and Stevos entered the room behind her. “Indeed!” Moradel exclaimed.

“Well, since today was a special day for Hilda, I thought it unfair to expect Hilda to provide refreshment for her own celebration,” Beragamos told them.

“How was the audience?” Stevos asked Hilda.

“Oh, it was wondrous! I had been so nervous, but our Lord quickly put me at ease and we…” she paused, unable to find the right words. She shook her head and tried again. “We tal…” she stopped and blinked in surprise. “I mean the session last…” At this point Hilda frowned. She did not seem to be able to come up with the correct words to describe her audience.

Moradel and Beragamos both chuckled with amused smiles.

“What?” Stevos asked, puzzled.

Moradel grinned broadly at him and said, “When Tiernon grants a ‘private audience’ he means that quite literally.”

Beragamos nodded, smiling, and looked at Hilda. “Don’t concern yourself. Think of a private audience as being something like an enforced confessional. What happens in a private audience with Tiernon stays private.”

Moradel nodded. “If he describes it as a private audience, then the other party is unable to talk about it, or describe it to others.”

“Sort of like a memory block? Or a dream vision that we use to communicate with our illuminaries?” Stevos asked.

“Not at all.” Beragamos shook his head. “Hilda, or whoever has the interview, can perfectly recall the interview; this is important in the event Tiernon wants to continue the conversation later. No, you just cannot reveal the nature or details of the audience to anyone else.”

Moradel was nodding. “And believe me, over the years more than a few archons and saints have tried very hard, yet none has found a means to reveal the conversation.”

“Well, that is interesting,” Hilda said, shaking her head. “It is a very disconcerting situation.”

Beragamos looked around. “Where is Sentir Fallon?”

Moradel shrugged. “I have not heard from him; he may have been caught up on some detail. I am sure he will be here shortly.”

“Well, in that case, it will be his loss if he misses the first bottle!” Beragamos said, gesturing for the others to take their seats as he picked up the first of several bottles of wine. “This is an interesting bottle of sparkling wine; on its native world, it is referred to as an 1893 Veuve Clicquot, where 1893 is its year of vintage,” he told them before popping the cork.

“Which world?” Stevos asked.

Beragamos frowned. “It is one that we very seldom get to; it is in a very low-mana region of the multiverse. It is one of several worlds that are very pedestrianly called ‘Earth.’ ”

“Earth? Like the element?” Hilda asked.

“Indeed.” Beragamos smiled.

“Might as well call it dirt!” Stevos laughed as Beragamos poured them each a glass in a refleca-flute.

“The low-mana worlds tend to be quite unimaginative,” Beragamos said.

“I’ve heard rumors that most of them are not even dimensionally aware,” Moradel said.

“Limited. It is very hard to get to these worlds using mana. One needs to use technology, which can be more cumbersome.”

“I am not that familiar with technology as you use the term. You mean like crossbows, winches, mechanical devices?” Stevos asked.

“Exactly, only it can get far more advanced. You can do many of the same things with technology that we do natively by force of will; it’s just quite complicated. However, it works exceedingly well in areas where one could never acquire enough mana to do proper rituals,” Beragamos said.

Moradel chuckled. “Technology is somewhat analogous to wizardry with all its very complicated spells and contraptions. In fact, there is one cruel barb against wizards that basically says ‘Any sufficiently advanced wizardry will appear as technology to less magically adept viewers.’ ”

“Well then, we should drink to that!” Beragamos said, raising his glass, “As well as to Hilda for her first private audience with our lord, Tiernon!” He held up his glass as the others joined in the toast with shouts of congratulations to Hilda, who blushed at the honor.

“Mmm. That is something else!” Moradel said softly after taking a sip of his sparkling wine.

“Perhaps we should consider getting wine from mana-depleted worlds more often!” Stevos agreed after tasting his own.

Hilda’s eyes opened wider at the exquisite taste. There was a slight tinge of aging — clearly this was a very old bottle — but the taste was still incredible. She might have said indescribable, but after not being able to describe her meeting with Tiernon, the word seemed no longer so accurate.

The door opened and Sentir Fallon came in, looking rather flustered.

“Sentir?” Beragamos asked in concern. “What is the matter?”