The Bishop and myself were laying comfortably on the roof of a tenement building, watching the cheap hotel across the street. Our target was a low level Adept who was using Charm spells to coerce affection from women.
It was not the first time he had been suspected of doing this, but he had made the mistake of trying his magic on a Sister of the Order, working undercover. She had played along, identified him, and sent the details through to my superior, Bishop Wainwright.
These days he rarely went out on a mission, certainly nothing as mundane as a stakeout. I was only here because we wanted to check the Adeptâs fate lines. If he was connected to the target of our undercover mission, that would be a problem. A problem myself and my sword, Ferro Mortis, may have to resolve.
I think the Bishop was just bored. He spent all his time taking meetings with the other Councillors in the Consolidated Churches, or resolving issues between our Order and the high Church in Rome. He used to be in the front line, smiting the wicked and unholy as a Paladin of the Order. Kind of like a Knight with magic spells.
Those days were long behind him, so when he asked me to undertake this observation duty, he decided to come along. We had both been in the Order for many years and served together here in the Zone for some years now. I had not aged in the past thirty years due to the blood of giants that flowed in my veins. Bishop Wainwright was not so lucky. He felt every day of his fifty years of service.
He groaned and sat up, rubbing his elbows where they were chafing on the concrete roof. There was little chance we would be spotted from the street, so I sat up next to him.
âThe boring bits of my work still donât make me appreciate the dangerous partsâ I commented. He nodded in agreement. We had both been trained to hunt and dispatch enemies of the Order. Surveillance work was necessary but it was so damned tedious.
âDo you remember why you got into the Order?â asked the Bishop. We had talked over the years about the Norns and the demands this made of those who were chosen. I had never really talked about why I had joined the Order, all those years ago.
âI heard his voice, calling meâ I said simply. The Bishop looked to me, surprised. He knew my faith was not that strong, despite my dedication to the Order.
âOur Lord?â wondered the Bishop.
âNo, not himâ I laughed. âI donât think He would ever want to associate with me. I meant I heard the voice of Michael, calling me to his serviceâ
Bishop Wainwright searched my face, looking to see if I truly meant this.
âIts trueâ I continued. âI had been a runaway from my family for two years by that time. I was about fourteen years old. It was a tough life and I wonât deny I was a nasty piece of work by that stage. It was late Autumn by then, turning real cold at night. You have to remember I was still in Norway at this time, so when I say it was cold it was seriously cold.
I used to make my money stealing from houses, breaking into cars. That kind of thing. There were others I used to run with at times. Some of them tried to have a go with me, so I cut them up a bit. They left me alone after that, but I was close to dying that Autumn. I had no place I could stay for the coming Winter.
So I just headed south, hoping to find someplace that was a bit warmer. Somewhere they didnât know me.
I got caught in a blizzard. Stupid me had stolen some money from a shop and I was being chased. They stopped hunting me when the weather turned bad, but I just kept going. Pushing into the hail and sleet, slowly freezing to death.
I remember falling down on some road, no idea where, and just giving up. It all seemed so useless, my running away from my family, from my little brother Alex. I knew I was going to die there that night and no-one would ever know what happened to meâ
I glanced at the Bishop. He was watching the hotel as I was, but he was imagining what I went through at such a young age. His face was set in hard lines and I wondered if he felt any sympathy for that fourteen year old version of me.
âWell, you obviously didnât dieâ he said.
âNo, I didnâtâ I said with a smile. His own lips twitched up a little.
âI was done in. I had nothing left to give. Then I heard his voice, calling my name. I thought I was hallucinating, that Alex had finally found me and would take me home. Yet this voice sounded so pure, so powerful. He spoke my name again and I felt something warm stir inside my chest. Like a small fire had been lit in there, spreading warmth to my frozen limbs.
My legs and arms were so tired, but I managed to stand on my feet. The rain was driving into my back, so I just started walking, letting the wind and rain guide me. I had no idea what direction I was going in, but that voice kept urging me onwards.
So I staggered along for what seemed hours. I donât know, it might have been just a few minutes. And then I saw an open doorway, and a man was standing there, surrounded by light. As I walked towards him, he held his arms out like the statues of Jesus, welcoming me into his embrace.
I collapsed into his arms, but he held me easily. I remember looking up at his face and he was just smiling at me. He said âWelcome Veneraeâ and I thought that was really funny. He took me inside and the room was warm and dry.
I said to this man, âMy name is Viola, not Veneraeâ and he nodded. âYou have left Viola behind, out in the darkness. Here in the light you will be Venerae. Welcome Sisterâ
I stopped and the Bishop seemed uncertain what to say. Finally he opened his mouth.
âYou never told me that part of the story beforeâ he said.
âWell, it was kind of clichedâ I admitted. âI always just said I found my way to that church by accidentâ
The Bishop just nodded.
âHave you ever heard the voice of Michael?â I asked him.
âOnly onceâ Bishop Wainwright admitted. âI was a priest at the time, waiting to hear if I was accepted into the Order. I had been sent to this little chapel near Oslo to start my combat training. Then I heard His voice speaking to me, as clear as a bell inside my headâ
I swallowed hard and watched the Bishop closely.
âMichael told me a young woman was being sent to me, to join the Order. Her name was Veneraeâ
The Bishop turned to look me right in the eyes.
âI think the wrong woman turned up at my door. I wonder whatever happened to Venerae?â
I was stunned for a moment, then I saw the twinkle in his eyes. It was too much and I burst into a fit of giggles like I was twelve years old again.
âThat is not funny at allâ I managed to get out, when my laughter had finally subsided. I wiped my eyes and went back to watching the street below.
âI know the life we lead is hard on usâ said the Bishop, âBut I am glad you chose to follow his voice to the Orderâ
âThanks Bishopâ I acknowledged and went back to the roof edge, looking for my target. I hoped he turned up soon, as it looked like rain was coming.