St Adela sat upon her dais, celebrating the feast of Adela amongst her followers. The work to renew her image had taken time to complete, but was definitely worthwhile. To hear her true name upon the lips of her followers, rather than to live under the name St Edith forever. She sometimes envied Osmund for how his ascension allowed the sudden change in name almost by default. However, she couldn't complain, as the work had also reinforced her new purview as a protector of Wealth in addition to its acquisition.
Take, for instance, the recent work to face down the threat that was Saint Boniface. She had taken the lead on his imprisonment and control. She even kept the relic they had imprisoned on (well guarded) display in her shrine at York to demonstrate to any doubters that he lay still in his bonds. It would not do to be thought a second Dythaem or Dii Casses.
She smiles and raises a glass to her erstwhile companion Gilbert, loyal assistant of many years, as he sits next to his pretty new wife, an up and coming priestess of Nanotsuelta. A useful foot in the door to keep track of goings on in the pagan church, what more could she ask for?
Herlinde slid aside the wards on the window, the powder she blew through the air allowing her to see the flows of magic: a secret of her own design. Sure, the Chancellor may be a demiurge, but she was herself a master in the field of magic, specialising in theft - and her latest job would be the height of her career if she could pull it off. She had created an incident, and the Chancellor was now off taking care of it, meanwhile she could slip into his offices unnoticed.
No sign of an alert yet. The dark panelled bookcase on the north wall might appear normal to the casual explorer, but to her highly tuned senses it positively glows with protective magic. Behind it lies her goal. The Demiurge of Discovery's Inner Sanctum. Anything she took from there would likely be worth a fortune - or possibly even more than money alone could buy. Her signature spell was a modified version of Ghostly Passage. The usual countermeasures against those like herself who sued the spell were either cold iron grids imbedded in the wall, heavy wards that would detect her passage, or an airtight space on the other side filled with poison, lacking air, or otherwise inhospitable to the continued existence of an uninvited guest. Given the amount of magical research performed within, the cold iron would prove impractical. The wards were clearly in existence, and she would bet on the other option too. The one thing about her own version of the spell that made it different, and so very very useful, was that it allowed her to pass not only through physical substance, but also through other spells. And the inhospitable environment was the reason she was wearing an alchemist's protective gear and carrying a bulky apparatus that would supply her with air whilst there. Sure, it was uncomfortable and difficult to move around in, but that was better than being dead.
Walking through the bookcase, Herlinde returns to the physical realm. Lighting her lantern, she surveys the darkened laboratory. A table covered in notes, a few bookcases with some rarer tomes upon them, a table with some form of strange glass apparatus, a bubbling blue liquid within. And on the far side a glass case, something suspended within it. Moving closer to get a better look, she slowly realises what it is, a puzzled look on her face as she tries to figure out what use the Chancellor could possibly have for a mummified heart on such prominent display.
The dignified cough behind her triggers a fight or flight response, but her muscles are suddenly locked tight, unable to respond to her urge to flee. She finds herself floating, her body slowly rotating to reveal a regal figure standing behind her. “You know, you really shouldn't go poking around in other people's private offices. Or go thinking about stealing my relics. Especially the ones I give to my dear brother Stanley that I amy keep him company from time to time. Now, why don't we drink some tea whilst we wait for Stanley to return?”
Herlinde cursed in her own mind. Whilst she was a master of handling fae security measures, she was virtually blind to those constructed by faith, and anyway such things were generally slow acting curses that could be removed through the assistance of a sufficiently powerful and friendly priest. But no, of course she had to go and break into somewhere with a relic of St Adela in it. Of all the saints and their relics, it was universally agreed that there was one saint who took the protection of their relics above and beyond all sane measures. And who would personally turn up and ensure any thief would regret their actions. And now she was alone in a dark, sealed and very well protected laboratory at her complete mercy. And should anyone notice anything amiss, she'd also have an angry demiurge to deal with. Things were not looking good for Master-thief Herlinde.
A regal figure makes her way up a lonely hillside in Yorkshire in the pre-light of dawn. She is dressed in a business suit and is carrying a large black briefcase. The man she had taken the case from the previous day had been sweating and struggling to carry the large lead lined construction. He had made it only 200m before she had killed him. She carries it without showing any signs of distress, and where she walks, leaves no footsteps in her wake.
She diverts off the well built path that would soon be swarming with ramblers enjoying the countryside, comes to a small secured compound, and types a number into the security keypad. The solenoid on the gate makes a crisp clicking sound as it swings open, and she enters the small brick built building that rises out of the ground.
The interior of the building reveals a much more high tech security setup than the expected water pumping substation suggested by the signage on the exterior. The figure uses the iris scanner and pulls out her phone, pressing a single button to initiate a call.
“Stanley, the cave. Five minutes.”
The figure steps into the elevator, sighing. The only problem with physical objects was the need to physically move them, rather than just remanifesting where you wanted to go. After a few minutes she is deep underground. Around her shimmer a hundred gilded reliquaries. Suddenly a tear in reality forms, and a demiurge steps through. He looks around in wonder.
“Adela, it never ceases to amaze me even after all these years. Now, what is it that you call so urgently?”
Rather than respond, the woman lays the briefcase on the floor, clicks open the latches and opens the lid, filling the cave with a near blinding glow. “Somewhat appropriate don't you think? After all these years the last one I need turns out to be the loom? Who would have though Nantosuelta would have lasted this long, with all that trial by fire. The UN resolution was a long time in coming, and it took almost ten years to find her last priest.”
Stanley responds “So this is it? You're going to do it? The time is finally here?”
The figure responds “Yes. Few remain who recall Dii Casses, Edith and Dythaem. Of those who yet live, fewer still really care. It's not like I'm trying to take over the world, just become so powerful that we need never fear another again.
Osmund might seek to oppose me, but given his reputation these days, I doubt it will make any difference. This modern world revolves around money. It revolves around my purview. I'm the patron saint of Goldman Sachs, the paragon of Capitalism. No government would risk opposing me, at least no government that actually mattered. The news media have been consolidated to a few men. News International is directed by one of my priests.
Anyway, they've not missed these relics since I took them, and there will still be relics imprisoning each of these gods for public display. It's just the ones trapped within will be so much less than they were before. Yes, it is time to step forth into the future Stanley. I wanted you to be here, to know that we need never fear another again.”
The two hug, before Stanley steps to the wall of the cave whilst Adela stands in the middle, concentrating. Suddenly from a reliquary to her left a bright light leaps forth, ploughing into her body. Then another, and another. Soon Saint Adela's body is glowing brighter than even the loom. It reaches forth, and the light of the loom is finally also pulled forth, up and in through the figure's mouth. The light slowly fades, leaving the cave in pitch darkness.
A small light is conjured by the Demiurge, revealing St Adela standing before him, a look of amazement on her face “Stanley, the power, it is amazing. I can feel it. I'm more powerful than the rest of them. Combined.” She grins, “But we're going to have to keep on top of the situation if I want to remain so. We'll continue as before.”
The two turn to leave. Behind them the loom remains sitting on the floor of the cave, its glow now gone forever. A mouse emerges and noses around the new addition to its abode. When it tries to climb atop the wood, it is surprised to find the entire artefact turn to dust beneath it.