Chapter 21 One and a Half Aeons Pre-Great War
One and a Half Aeons Pre-Great War
“Here it is!” Hadri led Luc into a section of the Great Hall where the lapis lazuli glazed bricks shone like jewels around a procession of angels carved into the walls. Each angel carried a different tool of trade and wore the insignia pin specific to their guild.
Overhead, a boldly colored fresco depicted the warriors, poised with swords amid the clouds.
Bordered by leaf-patterned gold cornices, this painting spanned the length of the rectangular ceiling, with swirls of white and gold so vividly hued and features so finely detailed, the figures appeared alive.
“This is a marvel,” the architect assured Luc, and Luc thought he was talking about the ceiling until he noticed Hadri pointing to the glazed bricks set into the right wall.
“The bricks?” Luc ventured.
“Not quite.” Hadri pressed on a random brick in the center of the wall, and it slid back.
Suddenly, the scraping of many stones sliding against one another echoed throughout the chamber, and the wall opened up.
A small section of the bricks slid back, then to the right, until they disappeared behind one of the angel carvings.
A shallow space carved into the stone had been revealed, which contained two steel chalices set upon a small ledge.
“Goblets?” Luc inspected one empty chalice. The cup looked quite plain; it wasn’t even inlaid with jewels.
“Not just any goblets.” Hadri grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But you must know the secret.”
Luc frowned, turning the chalice over and over. He peered inside it—nothing. He searched for an inscription—nothing.
The ledge was just as bare and non-forthcoming with its secrets.
“Enlighten me,” Luc said, raising an eyebrow. “I give up.”
“Faith.”
“Sorry?”
“Anything you want to drink will appear in that goblet when you ask for it. But you must ask, and you must believe it will be there.”
Luc raised both eyebrows.
“A drink? That’s what this is for? Why not just pick one up from the Banquet Hall?”
“It’s not about the drink”—Hadri waved his hands—“though it would certainly be delightful to install these everywhere. I mean, look at this magnificent space! Soon it will be overflowing with angels! It must! And wouldn’t it be wonderful as you’re traveling along and admiring these corridors to have refreshments along the way?
” Hadri glanced around with an awed expression. He spent a moment lost in thought.
Luc cleared his throat and gestured to the chalice.
“Ah, yes, as I was saying…This is an experiment. These goblets are models. I want to see if anyone figures it out. You see, I like to hide things in my designs, even simple things like this. It’s always interesting to see how others interact with features they don’t understand.”
Amusement tugged at the corners of Luc’s mouth. The chalice was a simple thing, indeed. It even looked unbearably simple. He didn’t know why Hadri had wasted his time.
“Well, go on. Try it. Say what you want,” Hadri encouraged him.
If he had been one of Luc’s peers, Luc would have laughed at him, but he tried to remain serious.
“Ambrosia,” Luc ventured.
He waited, but nothing appeared in the cup.
Luc frowned.
“You can’t say it like that. You have to mean it. You have to command it. Now say it again.”
Luc cleared his throat once more; he suspended his disbelief and repeated his request. Hardly had he spoken the word than the honeyed liquid appeared in the chalice, nearly overflowing its bounds.
Luc took a sip. The fresh nectar pooled sweetly on his tongue and slid warmly down his throat. Ambrosia if he had ever tasted it.
“How did you build this? How does it work?” he asked, slightly intrigued.
“Well, the Creator was so tickled by my idea that He fashioned these Himself.”
At that, Luc straightened. He eyed Hadri with renewed respect.
The Creator didn’t fashion many objects Himself; Luc knew that much.
He provided the materials and let the angels do the rest of the work.
This was one reason Luc’s new world had to be perfect; it would require not only resources, but a willing effort from the Creator to build it in the midst of the Void.
“The goblets have a touch of His powers, so they can summon anything that will fit within their boundaries,” Hadri continued. “This isn’t something that an angel could fashion.”
“A touch of His powers?” Luc replied. “You mean, creation?”
Hadri nodded. “As I said, it’s a prototype. A hidden treasure, so please, tell no one.”
“Hmm.” Staring down into his filled cup, Luc thought on that. There was a touch of madness to the item—it appeared harmless but actually contained great power.
Suddenly, Luc understood.
Hadri was a genius. He wasn’t even wearing his pins—he never wore his pins—and Luc had noticed that, despite his position on the Council, the other masters could be dismissive of him, but he really was a genius.
Who else would have thought to imbue commonplace objects with the Creator’s powers? The idea unlocked a font of possibilities.
“Soon, I hope,” Hadri continued, “I’m going to build these into every communal space. Fountains of overflowing drink! Can you imagine?!”