Chapter 11: Anaphrean Title Bearers

Scented candles flickered with peaceful fire throughout the conference room inside the temple. The ornateness of the walls with chubby, fragrant colored candles is in itself a mesmerizing view. The tables are decorated with them and arranged in sitting order are the publishers of Anaphrea.

'I have a bit of a problem with the counterfeit medicines that people smuggle inside the Enthranian nations,' Medikai reported. She sat left where Anaphrea headed at the width of the table, gesturing to a man directly opposite her who wore their books as masks like everybody else.

He had his arms crossed; eyebrows knitted as though in deep thinking if ever he hadn't wore a mask. Instead of wearing uniforms like most security guards do, he wore summer clothing; a very thin short reaching his knee, no upper ware but most certainly with a rather pink sunglass holding his hair back like a hairband.

Arte wasn't fooled though; she knew that Jackdaw, the Anaphrean Title bearer for security, is secretly and just as cleverly bold asleep before them all. In fact, it is Arte who wore her police detective uniform even though her title is for art.

'I think I'm going to stone Jackdaw, Medikai. I've been the one handling his responsibility while he sat under the sun with an open umbrella at the beach where he can satisfy the needs of his sinful eyes!' Arte sat next Jackdaw at his right side and right side of Anaphrea.

'I suppose divine punishment is in line for him,' Ashid, the Title bearer of religion suggested. She is next to Jackdaw to his left side, wearing a priestess's robe and just as bald as ever.

'I'd better not agree with you on that, Ashid. Your head is already suffering a divine punishment. I don't want to see another bald head around here.' Medikai shot her a smug look. 'What do you mean?' Ashid asked incredulously.

Medikai shrugged, 'I don't know. I mean, you're depriving the hair its rights to grow and you can't just force your divine punishment to anyone. It is very unethical and most certainly, illogical.'

Ashid still showed disinterest for Medikai's continuous endeavour of disproving her beliefs. Their missions had always been a contested issue for both of them but Ashid paid no real concern for that because in real human time term, the secular and scientific had considerably been working together. Most hospital has in them a place of worship installed inside them and both doctors and priests or whatever people call them, visits each room once in a while.

'Haven't you learned that no matter how many religious practices you try to nurture within these people, it only appears to me as deception. Of course I do understand that that deception had considerable influence with the power to command both peace and evil works but aren't we just leading them to a place that doesn't even exist?' Medikai thought loudly but unconscious of her ranting, she began to forget that they are in the middle of an assembly.

'Girls,' Trico admonished. 'Shame on you, Lady Anaphrea is here with us. Take your arguments outside in your own times, not on business hours.'

Nobody has ever seen Trico's real appearance for he is covered with cloaks and every skin is somehow hidden by other raiment. He is a friendless Title bearer who disappears and only appears on several occasions. Nobody knows what his title is or what kind of work entails his mission save their author who can only be Anaphrea. Trico doesn't speak of it himself but on the few occasions, the other title bearers would respect his words. Anaphrea would not concede with them saying that it wouldn't bring any peace to him if ever she told them of his secret.

'Thank you Trico and welcome home everyone,' Anaphrea said in a very soft voice.

'Mistress,' everyone stood up and only then that Anaphrea noticed.

'Where are Stren (Title bearer of identity) and Prima (Title bearer of gourmet)?'

Anaphrea studied their expressions for a while before proceeding. 'Take a seat.'

Estinto who sat in between Medikai and Trico cleared his throat, 'So, I was given a mission which was to return the egos of the mortal author's publishers back to them.'

'I heard you tried to assassinate them,' Stren interjected.

''If you desired for their death despite sympathizing with them back then, you didn't have to take my brethren along with your failure.' Stren and Prima arrived like amateur hitchhikers, perspiring and fatigued.

Estinto's staff composed of a tribe where Stren originally belonged while Prima is his travel partner for a couple of centuries. Her origins are unclear, even she doesn't know but she had no interest in it.

'What do you want, confirmation or are you threatening me?' Estinto had a very emotional and surprising day. As such, he wanted to get over with it immediately.

'He wants you to continue,' answered Prima with a nod and Stren with a little nudge.

Estinto continued, 'Earlier this day, I finished with one publisher named Yve. The problem is that when I was travelling, the missions scribed in my book suddenly disappeared indicating the mission complete. I find that very odd because I wasn't even halfway done with the revivals. When I went to check the hanging coffins, the strange phenomena at the place wasn't there; there was no unending rain attack. I tried to check the contents of the coffins but all of them were opened wide and empty just like the strange thing that happened in the past where the same circumstances applied.'

'Were my brethren freed from their curse then?' Stren asked anxiously while distancing himself on the couch because they reeked of sweat.

'Peace with you, if the mission is truly complete they were and they are since they sent me a written report with haste.' Estinto informed him.

'And Schwig,'

'Schwig, he's not very lucky.'

Everyone mulled over the situation and ran several simulations in their heads and nothing came to mind. If only the publishers themselves went and retrieved it, the ego would be convinced. The problem is that they can't because they don't remember who they were and what they are in actuality.

'If they were able to rebuild their original shell, there is a huge possibility that they themselves went back on their own and revived.' It was a very simple fact which Anaphrea had realized and the others agreed with.

'Can we locate or possibly meet with them to establish contact? That is if we set aside Yve but she'll make herself scarce too.' Arte inquired their mistress.

'That would need a workforce. The mortal author and his publishers are very elusive. Their ways, I cannot identify them.' She replied.

'Then if that were to happen, will you re-establish the broken triumvirate again?'

'A triumvirate… Most certainly not but 'Allies' would be more plausible.'

'In that case, what we await now is any further orders from you mistress.'

'That shall be delivered with soon but until then, be vigilant. Estinto has reported sightings of the shadows again. Protect your books at all cost.'

'For peace and service,' they said in unison.

Jackdaw on the other hand was still asleep when the other Title bearers departed. Only he, Prima, Stren, Estinto and Anaphrea were left behind.

Prima and the others were served a meal to which they began to chat, 'Estinto am I correct in assuming that the mortal author's publishers are an exact copy of their original?' Prima talked while eating.

'That is correct,' he replied.

'Yve… I'm afraid that our security will deteriorate if you tell Jackdaw about her.' She informed him and of course to their mistress.

'True but I doubt he can get close to her for even 10 meters now.'

'Are you referring to their case of having been betrayed by publishers of our own and of the magical author?'

'No, Vylemor will never take chances again. He will eliminate anyone without fail if he deems them worthy of that fate.' Estinto couldn't help but smile and frown at the same time.

Stren barely glanced at him before saying, 'someone claims to have formed a bond with a possible enemy.'

'2nd to the last possible enemy,' Estinto emphasized.

'Who is the last?'

'The magical author and company.'

'Enemy or not, I want a break.' Prima lazily browsed her empty book while Stren and Estinto stared at her in disbelief.

'You were the one who insisted on completing 12 missions which took us a hundred years to accomplish, remember?'