Starcius and Cynewulf had spent almost as many hours discussing the finest intricacies of Auran divinity as they had trained together in martial combat, and fended off wave after wave of the benighted. The new Archbishop had been the one monk in their Order who, invariably and above all others, would prove his prowess with Sun-sent distinction, be it through skill of sword, speech, or sagacity. The fraternal bonds were tight, tied by time and devotion. Standing now in front of him in his new seat of power, Starcius could hardly contain his emotions at witnessing his old friend deservedly raised to such spiritual heights. He genuflected and spoke.
“Your Grace, my Lord, my brother. We know our Radiant Lord could not have hand-picked a better man for His high ministry, nor one more zealous in faith, scholarship, or righteous fury. Cum dixisti “Manus viam indicabit”, we followed you from Niflheim into this sacred Kingdom, and now it pleases Him that your wisdom shan’t be limited in apportion to our Order, but rather to the whole of Hyperion; I followed you then, and I will follow you now through the even greater glories and virtuous deeds which must be reserved to the Holy Church, now that we have you to interpret and mediate the commands of our Lord of Light. We bask in your piety. Auros keep you safe.”
