He led us further into the depths, but not as far as I was expecting. The Catacombs had been massively expanded throughout the centuries since it was originally carved from the earth but Saint Kaladas’ tomb was within fifty metres of the stairs. There were hints that were several other levels beneath this one, sinking deep into the earth and branching outwards in all directions almost in defiance of the swamps, river and rice paddies surrounding the city. Some of the deepest levels would have water soaking their floors but the greatest holy place to the God of Craftsmen was not one to find crumbling walls or poor workmanship. From the smallest carving to the largest bronze bells that weighed over fifteen tonnes, the entire cathedral was almost a work of art, which made it even more surprising that Saint Kaladas’ tomb was almost bare of decoration.

  “The Tomb of Saint Kaladas.” Carodus’s voice was a whisper lest we disturbed the few people standing and kneeling around a large marble sarcophagus. The room itself was tiny, just enough space for the saint’s coffin and the two tiers of stairs that it sat upon in the direct centre. There were no carvings, no bas-reliefs or sculptures other than simple but unyielding bricks in the walls and tiles that had been polished smooth by centuries of feet and kneeling faithful praying within.

  Of those already within the room two were a pair of stern faced, and heavily armed soldiers a match for any within the Order of the White Stallion. They stood silently but watched everyone carefully with their hands close to maces of their own clasped by the sides. It was only when the nearest looked over our group, thudded his fist into his chest in salute that I saw the heraldry on his tabard and the signet rings identifying them as knights of yet another Order.

  As I returned the salute, Alexi whispered over my shoulder just loud enough that only those in our group could hear. “Iron Knights.” He said, and I could almost hear the grin on his face. “They are the only Order exclusively dedicated to Zenithar. Most live in High Rock like the other orders but a dozen or so remain here in Leyawiin to watch over the resting place of the Saint and the Mace.”

  “How is everyone so certain it is here?” Mazoga asked this time, sizing herself up to the Iron Knights and trying to work out who was the larger of them.

  Carodus heard her question and like a good host he replied before the rest of us had the opportunity. “Extensive magical testing. I’ve even heard that they have consulted the Elder Scrolls but everyone agrees that it is here.”

  I turned and looked at Viconia and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  “There is magicka here, very similar to that at the Priory and the other relics.” The only other people in the room was another traveller with his assigned guide acting in a similar role to Carodus, except this traveller was kneeling in front of the tomb with his eyes closed, breathing softly. Viconia moved forward very carefully and as quiet as only she could manage with her eyes beginning to glow from her magical scrutiny. “What does this say?”

  While softly spoken her words were loud in the relative silence in the tomb and it echoed down the corridors as I stepped forward. The only true ornamentation besides the solid lid was a single line of carved lettering at the very base of the tomb closest to the door.

  “Ambulare per fidem.” I answered, eyes narrowing at the writing that was strangely crude in comparison to the rest of the cathedral. “Walk in the faith.”

  “As cryptic as usual.” She said, moving back into our group. “Do any of the Nine lack subtlety?”

  “Of the original divines, Zenithar is thought to be the most in touch with the mortal realm. “Carodus began, rubbing his face for a moment and sharing a brief nod with his fellow guide on the far wall. Most legends say that Zenithar has close ties to Kynareth, an idea that is supported by the manner in which the two gods’ realms interact. Craftsmen devoted to Zenithar are able to create and profit from the materials provided by Kynareth’s natural world and as such one cannot revere Zenithar without acknowledge the power of Kynareth.”

  “Sounds to me that you should be worshipping the stronger woman instead of the man.” Viconia replied and Carodus looked like he was struggling to hold back a laugh.

  “I think you would have gotten along well with my second wife ma’am.”

  “So, I guess that he is taking the test?” I asked, gesturing to the kneeling figure at the base of the tomb who had so far paid no heed to our sudden presence.

  “You are correct Sir.” Unlike the rest of us Carodus didn’t move with the same grace or care, and didn’t lower his voice. “You don’t need to worry about disturbing him, those who are undertaking the test are utterly oblivious to everything around them.”

  “What is the test?” Mazoga asked, peering forward and leaning to look at the Knight’s face as he knelt on the stones with his hands on his knees and eyes closed.

  “It’s a test of faith.” Carodus moved over to a wall and leant against it, placing his lantern on the ground. “To take the test you simply kneel right on that spot, say the words; ‘Zenithar, test my resolve’ and you are then given a vision of the Mace on a floating island above a gigantic chasm.”

  “The chasm represents your doubt.” As deep as the bowels of the earth, Falid’s voice reverberated through the room. “Your faith must be a guide across it.”

  Carodus nodded to the Black Knight. “Many have tried over the centuries, ever since the first pilgrims began receiving the visions but no one’s faith has been strong enough.”

  The silence fell over us like a blanket as we all watched the knight continue undertaking the test. If not for the steady rise and fall of his chest there was very little to show that he was indeed alive and breathing. It was uncertain how long that he had been attempting to retrieve the Mace before we had arrived but initially there was no sign of the duration until he suddenly fell backwards with a cry of surprise, his eyes opening in an instant with his face going pale.

  What little dignity he had left was carefully measured as he picked himself up off the cold stone tiles, glancing around at us with an expression of embarrassment that quickly turned into indignation and anger. “This is impossible.” He said bitterly, wrapping up his cloak and flicking it over his shoulder before storming out without as much as a backwards glance.

  “Another one down.” there was a trace of amusement through Carodus’ tone as he watched the knight disappear through the doorway. The two Iron Knights stood impassively without a flicker of emotion and I guess that such a sight was extremely common to them. “Who’s first?”

  Before any of us could even twitch Viconia stepped forward, her expression grim and determined. “I will try.”

  Without the slightest hesitation she knelt before the tomb, relaxing as though she was mediating and mouthing the words for the test. There was no change, no sudden rush of magicka or even the slightest hint of anything changing but her breathing slowed and steadied and her eyes remained firmly closed.

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  “Viconia?” I asked carefully, feeling foolish as I moved forward towards her. At my presence and voice she made no sign of having noticed and didn’t even twitch in the slightest.

  Behind me, Alexi made a surprised sound and chuckled. “Huh. If I’m honest I’m surprised that that actually worked for her.”

  “What do you mean?” Carodus looked somewhat confused and I saw one of the Knights angle his head towards us in interest.

  “She’s technically a heathen and doesn’t follow the teachings of the Nine.” I replied.

  Carodus looked between me, the Tomb and Viconia and shrugged. “She’s not the first and there’s no law against it.”

  Unlike the previous Knight who had failed, Viconia didn’t remain kneeling for even a fraction of the time. In less than a minute she suddenly jolted as though struck with a bolt of lightning or being plunged into a pool of freezing water.

  “That was disconcerting.”

  “What did you see?” Alexi moved forward and watched her expression carefully as she rose from her kneeling position and brushed her hands down her sides. It was the only sign of any nervousness or anxiety that she would permit to show.

  “I was standing on a broken island floating in a sea of nothingness. In front of me was another island, similar in size and shape to the one I was standing on but between them there was nothing, just an abyss.”

  “Did you see the Mace?”

  She nodded to Alexi. “It’s definitely a Relic. I can’t sense it now but when I was… wherever that was, I was able to feel it. I couldn’t get close though, as soon as I stepped forward off the island I fell.”

  “Looks like faith doesn’t affect the vison.” Alexi said after a brief moment of contemplation. “That’s interesting.”

  “It is indeed.” Viconia’s eyes locked onto mine and I could feel the uncertainty of her thoughts. She hadn’t believe for a second that she would have been successful in retrieving the Mace but had been ‘testing the test’. It had obviously left her with more questions than answers but her mind was already working on the problem. “Kaius, I would like you to try next.”

  It wasn’t certain which was more amusing, the way that she had framed her question as a statement that brooked no option but to comply or the fact that I was technically her superior.

  “I shall take your advice under consideration Madame DeVir.” I said with a smile and the look in her eyes promised some form of amused punishment she would bestow on me when we had a measure of privacy. It didn’t however affect the deadly seriousness that was positively flowing from her. “Anything in particular that you wish for me to attempt in this holy endeavour.”

  My sarcasm made the corners of her mouth curl upwards very slightly and intensify her expression. “Take note of everything you see or feel. Your experience as a ‘forester’ is going to be of great assistance.”

  This time my smile and nod was more sombre than before as the unspoken meaning behind her words were obvious. She had attempted the test as an unbeliever of the faith and now she wanted to know how I would go as a vampire.

  “Very well.” Watching where I placed my feet I moved over to the portion of the floor where Viconia and the other Knight had been kneeling and lowered myself into a similar position. It was hard not to notice that this particular spot was worn almost entirely smooth from the thousands upon thousands of faithful who had attempted the test over the centuries. I didn’t have any belief that I would be successful in this attempt, but a small part of me wondered the opposite especially after I had been the only person to retrieve the Boots.

  Carefully and with nothing more than willpower I slowed my breathing and tried to ignore the hammering of my heart within my chest. The nervousness and anxiety was almost tingling through my hands and limbs like the adrenaline that surged through me before I fought or did battle.

  “Zenithar, test my resolve.” I murmured and tried not to feel the way that I had to force them out of my throat. It seemed utterly incongruous that I was expecting to be tested again for purity when I was so obviously corrupt.

  Nothing happened and despite my expectations of feeling something… anything… there wasn’t even the slightest flicker of air across my skin or the sensation of change. It made it even more insane when I opened my eyes, expecting to see the plainly made tomb but instead found an abyss less than a metre in front of me.

  I had been expecting something after all the stories I had heard from the others but nothing could have prepared me for the fact that the tomb, the underground levels of the cathedral and all of those in there with me had utterly vanished. There were still hints of the room in the tiles under me but the only things I could truly see were a pair of tiny islands in a sea of utter blackness.

  “Okay… I think I’m getting a little tired of the Nine playing these tricks.” I said to the nothingness, moving about and looking carefully at the island that I found myself on.

  It was less than ten metres wide and was roughly in the shape of a circle as though a great earthquake had sundered it away from the land itself. What was the most disconcerting being the fact that the island was, as far as I could tell, the tomb itself, right down to the shattered and broken doorway at my back and the ancient, smoothed tiles of the floor. The tiles simply ended at the edge of the yawning expanse of nothingness between the two islands, their hand sized surfaces cracked and shattered where the islands ended and revealing nothing beyond.

  There was no breeze, no sound and strangely enough no source of light despite the fact that I could see clearly. The light came from everywhere and nowhere, illuminating both islands but being unable to penetrate the blackness that spread to eternity before me. In every direction that I looked there was an emptiness that contained nothing, and without the broken doorframe on my island and the other island floating some distance away there was nothing to allow me to gain my bearings. Even my vampirism was of no use, my eyes revealing that either there truly was nothing to be seen or the darkness was so absolute that even my vampiric vision couldn’t penetrate it.

  The only things I could smell other than ancient stonework was myself, and the silence was almost deafening in its own regards. It was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat and my soft, increasingly nervous breathing and with my enhanced hearing I could also hear the strange gurgling of blood flowing through my body. I also couldn’t sense any other form of life no matter how hard I concentrated but what I could definitely see was what was on the other island.

  That it was a Relic of Pelinal was not in doubt. Even without my vampiric senses I could feel it, and while the space between us sat threateningly between me and it, I was still close enough to see the priceless artefact clearly. The tomb of Saint Kaladas was open and missing the marble lid and sides that covered the ancient remains. There was little left of the architect and builder besides a pile of dust laying in the open, but the rough semblance of a humanoid shape surrounded the Mace of the Crusader.

  Like all of the other relics, the Mace was immaculate and untouched by time. Even though that it sat in the dust and remains of a dead man not a single blemish or speck touched it. While I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was the Mace was somehow even more of a work of art than the other relics we had recovered. It was fitting that the relic of Zenithar was fashioned to a far greater standard to the other Divines but at the same time it wasn’t ostentatious. Somehow the metre-long object was humble, and yet brutally effective.

  The head was flanged and I knew that if I managed to look directly down on it the metal would form the shape of a star. Every centimetre was covered with flowing runes and symbols, shapes of men and mer building, creating and forging works of their own. If not for my vampiric senses I would have been unable to see anything besides the fact that it was indeed a mace but for several long minutes I was stuck in awe of the impossibly beautiful forging of such a weapon.

  Shaking off the Mace’s hold on my senses I took another look around at the two islands. While I couldn’t see the base of the island I stood on, the other was looking as though it had been ripped from the ground before being suspended into the void.

  “Walk in the faith… This should be interesting.” I stepped closer to the edge until my toes were mere centimetres from the abyss and peered down. It didn’t seem to matter which direction I looked it was all the same nothingness that stretched away in distances that left my head swimming. There was nothing below the island and it easily gave me vertigo.

  An idea came to me and I felt around the handful of pouches attached to my armour. One of the more disconcerting things was the fact that I was still wearing everything that I had originally entered the tomb with, including my weapons and equipment. One of my pouches contained a small handful of coins that I poured into the palm of my hand, shifting through them with a finger before selecting a small copper septim that I flicked off into the darkness.

  My vampirism allowed me to hear the tiny metallic chiming as it spun through the air but after the first few seconds it vanished. I could no longer see or hear it and after waiting for a considerable length of time I definitely didn’t hear it strike anything, much less reach the bottom if there was one.

  “Ambulare per fidem…” I said without the slightest trace of confidence as I took a nervous pace forward. The abyss gazed up at me as I stood at the edge, stepping forward and pitching myself into the dark.