I sat on the edge of the raised ptform that just a two days before, Redagga had given her speech from. I looked out over a crowd of a few dozen, more arriving every minute or two. I spoke with a hint of power in my voice letting it carry. I told the people of The Dreamer, The Warcry, The Sojourhe Mentor, and The Ritual. I told them of their desire to help the people of this world, of their alliah the Green Mother and Blue Father.
A priest of the Blue Father came close, asking why they had not been told of this if it were so. “Certainly his oracle would have informed us of this?” He said to me, trying to keep his toral while fusion and doubt lined his face.
“I am saying so now.” Came a voice from behind me. I turo see Ogaro walking towards me, the Blue Father’s Oracle chug and shaking his head. He grunted as he lowered himself to sit o me. “Saint Dreamsinger speaks the truth. The Dreamer is an ally and friend to the Green Mother and Blue Father. We had been keeping things quiet in preparation of other matters, but we ow be open and speak the truth to all.”
I smiled and bowed my head towards him before leaning closer and whispering in his ear. “Sorry about this, the ce popped up and Vei’Ryn enced it.”
He ughed, responding quietly to me as well. “The Blue Father appreciates things being shaken up every now and then, he is amused by this.”
One young or in the crowed spoke up. “Will you be building temples to these gods in Beaver Valley?”
I took a breath, this was actually something I had discussed with both my pantheon and Dekarru. “Shrines. Small, simple, out of the way. My Goddess has no desire to even suggest being equal to Willow Creek’s gods in their home. This is the home of the Blue Father and Green Mother and has been so for thousands of years.”
An elven woman with gray hair stepped closer to me, there was a weight on her shoulders that her years did not expin. “Then where will their home be?” she asked with suspi in her eyes. “I lost my own faith to the Hegemony long ago, as a child in a nation that no longer exists, going to temples fods I ot remember the names of. Are they going to invade as the Thundering did?”
I slid from my seat, brag myself with my e as I walked close to the woman who stared into my eyes with defiance clear in her own. “The Dreamer is not a jealous or vengeful god, nor are any in her pantheon. They are making a home in this world, not by ousting another, but by filling ay pce. They have no love of the Thundering Pantheon or their ways, they will serve, not quer. I swear this to you.”
“Even your war god?” Her retort snapped back at me, narrowed eyes looking into my oeering deep without hesitation of fear.
I paused and read her, my skills p this woman over. A soldier, no, an officer raised from the ranks of the lowest. Hegemony. Tired, angry, grieving. A refugee aer seeking a pce of peace to rest and some sileo the demons howling in her head.
I rested a hand on her shoulder. “Especially my war god. She is a god of prote, one who is wise enough to know that swords must always be returo their sheathes. To know that the greatest day in a soldier’s life is the day they set down their on for the st time. She is not a war monger, but rather, a promise that those under her protect shall be safe. The Warcry is just that, a voice raised in warning. Her sword is only drawn to defend. But if the bde is drawn, it will seek blood. This is her oath. She does not quer, but her will she be quered.”
“Wisdom and violence are a rare bination, Saint.” Her voice was soft, a pain sitting on each sylble that spoke more than anything mundane words could have veyed.
“There is a question that was asked of the wise and foolish alike for many geions. ‘Is it better to be a lover, or a fighter?’ Arguments for either choice are abundant, and both options have had many, many good and valid reasons for choosing them. But one day, a man of great wisdom born of deep personal pain spoke to a crowd. He said to those gathered, ‘If you’re a lover, you’ve got to be a fighter. Because if you don’t fight for your love, what kind of love do you have?’ The Warcry is this, one who fights for what is worth fighting for. War is an ugly thing, but the world is imperfed ugly things are sometimes needed.”
Ogaro hummed in thought loud enough to draw attention. “Wise words, truly. War is ugly, to take another person’s life is never something that should be done easily. But to stand idly by as others cause harm be just as bad, if not worse. This is one reason why we now reach out to our brothers and sisters of Uvtrayl and Pitrak to help theheir war. To not aid in stopping the death aru now that we have the ce? This would bring great shame to the people of Willow Creek.”
Smart man. Public opinion oalks was all over the pce, taking that moment to speak to the honor of his people would help. It would also help textualize the peoples of the other nations as the same. The way he phrased that was inclusive, a means to halt seeing them as ‘other’. They are our brothers and sisters and they need help. When our brothers and sisters need help, it is our duty to help them.
I looked through the crowd and saw the emotions on the faces of the people listening. Many of them ged, the idea settling into their thoughts. There were nods of agreement. I could read the opinions shifting on the expressions of quite a few present. The cept of Uvtrayl and Pitrak as siblings we were giving aid to was clearly effective. I would have to talk to the oracle of the Blue Father alone, get some tips on public speaking. He’d done more in a few senteo move the people than I had in nearly an hour.
I felt a smile on my lips. “Quite true, Oracle Ogaro. The Warcry won’t start a fight, but she will not shy away from one if the cause is worthy.” I looked into the old elf’s eyes, drawing her into my own aly taking her hand. “I see your pain, I see your struggles. I imagihat your dreams are often a mirror of the nightmares you have faced in the waking world. I have waded through fields of blood and heard the cries of the dying, I have seen the light fade from the eyes of my siblings in arms and those that my leaders would have me call enemy.” I tapped the bottom of my e on the ground to draw attention to it. “I am not without scars of both body and mind. Mine my differ iail for yours, but they are enough to see what haunts you.” Tears formed at the edges of her eyes, her hand gripping my own tightly. I knew she believed me.
Then, I took a risk. Not a major one, but ohat might fail and lessen the impact of all I had spoken of to those gathered. I returned my e to its holster so that I might y my hand on her forehead. I closed my eyes, reag for the power of that fragment of my goddess resting within me. I felt the warm fort of divinity and the Dream flow through my palm and into her. She tensed and though my eyes did not see, I knew a light was cast from the two of us. The croed and spoke in rising volume, many w what was happening while others cried out that they were witnessing the blessing of a Saint.
The power receded slowly, having done what I had needed of it. I opened my eyes and looked into hers. “I ot take the nightmares from your mind, from your memory. But I , and have, weakeheir hold on you in the Dream. Perhaps now your sleep will be peaceful more often than troubling.” Perhaps was the truth, it was less likely that her trauma would trol what the Dream showed her now, but not so much so that she would never dream of it again.
She trembled and squeezed my hand so tight it nearly hurt. “If my dreams are peaceful tonight, I will give yoddess my worship for the rest of my days. I swear this to you.”
No pressure. I smiled softly and kissed her cheek. “Go now in peace my friend. Let the troubles of the day pass over you and leave them behind.” I grinned. “Maybe go have some herbal tea, it helps me a great deal.”
Others came to me after that, asking for a blessing as well. I gra to few, those in whom I saw the horrors of war. There was no she ees in Willow Creek, though most of the crowd was locals. I imagihat if my blessings went as I hoped they would, that would ge. Word spreading that I could grant peaceful sleep to those who saw hell in the waking world and are haunted by death and loss would certainly make a particur portion of Beaver Valley’s popution seek me out.
It felt kind of scummy to be ho, the idea of doing something I knew would draw in some of the most vulnerable members of society to seek me out and potentially pledge themselves to my pantheon. I got memories of televas making me feel a bit dirty. I reminded myself that I could, and WOULD, actually help these people in a meaningful way. I was not making promises that I had no power to keep, but spreading real, measurable, assistand fort. Hells, I khat The Ritual would be a godsend to Uvtrayl’s efforts to recover their lost culture and traditions. A people rec their stoley was a fug immense gift. But the predatory nature of so much of what I had seen ion oh? It was hard to pull my mind away from.
Something that DID pull my mind away was a tingling in my neck makie was small and quiet, but the sensation of danger was deep. It felt less like something was in immi danger and more like something was hat would bring a great deal of danger in time. Whatever this was, it was a source of trouble so great that my danger sense was reag to it. So much so I leaned over to Ogaro and whispered of it to him. He told me to be calm, he’d prepared for problems and would take care of it. I should just keep talking like everything was normal.
I stepped back from the crowd, climbing bato the raised ptform to give a warm smile to them all. I raised my void spoke to them all of The Sojourner in more detail. Speaking of her belief that all are ected. Ogaro cheerfully agreed, the two of us talking about travel and unication and the things various people had in on with one another. It was a good subject to keep going, I knew from the talk with the pahat the Blue Father was also a god of travel and es, viewing the sea and rivers as a great and mighty work between every nd that brings trade and culture far and wide. So it erfect for keeping things going for the fifteen minutes or so before I saw Dekarru approag with a fake smile and a wave.
I saw a shadow flit through the crowd, invisible to all but those who ko look for it. I felt a warmth spread that my giant love was there to protect me. limmers of movement aail leapt to my attention and I realized that there were at least two dozen soldiers in alleys and on rooftops ready to leap into a.
Vei’Ryn’s warmth touched my mind again, I ko simply observe. I was to be passive in this.
A cry came from the croeople surged away from a spot he west edge of the dozens gathered. I looked over and saw a group of no more than seven people in pin brown cloaks, three of them holding hostages, ko throats and demands that others stay away being barked in Oteva. I could see the edge of armor exposed from one, or not impractical. I didn’t reize it, but I had no time to think about it as a figure in the ter of this group, clearly being protected, suddenly found themselves grabbed by an over-sized blur.
A dozeers away, Luvetra stood with her own knife against the throat of a woman. Dekarru speaking to them in powerful but calm words as Ogaro and I both made our way over to her.
“You face two oracles and a Saint while one of your own is in our hands. Release our people and stand down before we get angry,” she spoke with a tohat was ced with deadly i.
“ASYLUM!” The woman in Luv’s grasp screamed. “I am Princess Viranatta Otevin of Sin Otev and I request Asylum!”
Every head turowards the woman, my own included. “What… the fuck… did she just say?” It was a few moments before I realized the voice that spoke the words was my own.
“Release the princess!” one of the group with hostages demanded.
Luvetra’s bde shifted against the woman’s neck. “You first.” She gred pure death at them as she responded.
“Damn it! Asylum! Please! Let them go captain!” Viranatta’s voice cracked in fear.
The apparent leader of the group hesitated “Yhness-”
“That’s an order! Release them, disarm, and surrender!”
Within moments the civilians were rushing away, Oscar waving them over to give them a quick look for injuries. Gd I ran into him. Soldiers poured out of every hidden pd the group was in s quickly. Cloaks were pulled away and the fancy armor of huard was exposed.
“This was not something I expected to see today.” Dekarru sighed and shook her head. Luvetra brought the princess over to us a her dowly. “So, Princess, what in the hells are you doing in Willow Creek?”
The daughter of the te High Shaman rubbed her neck where Luv’s bde had rested against it, f herself to stand straight a Dekarru’s gaze. She stood tall and proud with a bearing I expected from a member of the royal family of one of the two greatest powers oris.
She took a breath, cleared her throat, and spoke with a voice that seemed to demand subservience. “I request asylum, prote from the murderous iions of my elder brother Ran, and quarters appropriate for one of my station with adjat lodging for my royal guard.”
Dekarru gred. “You sneak into our city, take our people hostage, then make demands?”
“It was a misuanding and an overrea from the captain of my huard, he is extremely protective of me. I am still a visiting royal, despite my manner of arrival, I expect to be treated as-”
“No.” Her head whipped to stare at me when I cut her off. She opened her mouth to respond but I talked over her. “I think it would be better to shove her in a box and send her home. This is clearly a family matter and we shouldn’t get involved.”
The spike of fear in her eyes told me everything. She covered it quickly in a mask of royal indifference, but I could see through that as if it were not even there.
Dekarru turo me. “A box? Might be easier to just tie her up in a sack. Cheaper to ship too.”
“Oh, that is a good point. Burp sack of idiot royal.” I spoke casually, watg the princess’s emotions spike. The mask of her trol fraying with every word.
“I have officially requested asylum,” she spoke with a voice barely managing to not break uress.
I looked into her eyes, staring long and hard and watg sweat form on her skin. She looked… odd. On the surface she seemed human, a deep to her skin with light brown eyes and thick bck hair held in a loose bun. Quite pretty, plump lips, a button nose, a regal demeanor to her features. But something seemed off, something I couldn’t quite pce.
Nearly a minute passed with my eyes burrowing into hers before I spoke. “There are more than a thousand people in this city who fled your nation’s territory. People who lost homes, loved ones, everything they ever had. All because you and your siblings decided that they were fine ruling over ashes. You think you deserve anything but an escort to the executioner?”
“I did not start the war in my home. I wasn’t even in Sin Otev proper when father died. I didn’t know of his passing until my sister ambushed me a week ter, trying to kill me before I knew I was in danger!” Her posure broke for a moment.
“A, you live while all but one of your father’s other heirs have beeo the Ferryman.”
“I defended myself. My huard is quite talented.” She swallowed, fingers g nervously.
“Did you not make a cim for the throne?” I asked, my tone quite iionally belittling.
She chewed on her lip as she sidered her answer. “It was expected of me. Not to mention that my siblings are all brutish idiots. My sister’s ambush failed because it was er than one orchestrated by on bandits. Easily seen ing and easily tered. Should I allow fools to gain power over my home?”
“If they are so bereft of intellect, why are you here? Running rather thaing your clearly inferior brother and taking the throne?”
“A brutish idiot still rally those worthy of better uheir banner. He had both a head start and lesser challenges. He won more territory and the loyalty of more nobles and officers while I was simply defending what little nd I had from my more talented siblings. He got lucky.”
“And you lost.” The word came out of my mouth as an accusation. She k. “So now you e here, seeking safety from a grave threat to your life. But you came in as a thief does, face covered and knives hidden in your cloak. You came in knowing that it meant effectively deg your brother the victor in this war of succession. You cim to be a visiting royal, but all I see is a refugee. No, not even that. The refugees are grateful for what is being done for them. They give thanks and look for work if they . They do not make demands and brandish ons at our people. You want asylum? Lower yourself and beg for it.”
Some present likely heard my words and thought me a bit heavy handed oter. But the truth is I was using my skills, wearing down the mantle of royalty and exposing the scared woman I could see hints of underh. Someohat probably had nightmares of a knife in the dark or poison in their food, someohat had been holding back tears for far, far too long.
She hesitated and I pushed. “If you lower your head to the dirt and beg, you and yuard will be cared for. I promise you this.”
She swallowed audibly befetting on her knees and slowly pressing her face to the earth beh her. “Please… I’m sorry. I don’t want to die. Please give us asylum. I will do anything asked of me without pint if you keep us safe.”
Good. She was not hopeless, she begged not just for herself, but for those with her. I knew much of what she showed before was a mask. But I wasirely sure what shape the person underh would take. But at least this was true. She cared for the safety of her huard. Perhaps it was because they were the only prote she trusted, perhaps it was because she valued them as people. Only time would tell.
“Oracle Dekarru, do you suppose we could have guest quarters prepared for our visiting dignitary?”
Dekarru nodded. “I suppose they use my manor. It’s probably a mess since I haven’t lived there in nearly a tury, but I’m certain that the princess doesn’t mind a bit of ing.”
“Wait, you have a manor?” I raised a brow, breaking the character of the great Saint for a moment out of pure surprise.
“All the Elders do, its not a sprawling mansion or anything, but it should fit them iive fort ohey tidy it up. Maybe repce a mattress or two. But why would I stay there instead of with my tribe?”
The princess had more wisdom to maintain as she spoke. “I would be honored, Oracle Dekarru, Saint Dreamsinger.”
I cleared my throat. “I do have a question though. If you’re supposed to be in hiding, why did you e here?”
She slowly raised her gaze to me. “While buying food, one of my people told me that there was supposedly a Saint speaking nearby. I…” She looked my over, her eyes taking me in with what I felt ropriate aropriate awe, what a weird thought to have about myself. “I had to see for myself.”
“Am I everything you imagined?” I smirked.
“I don’t know what I imagined, but I wouldn’t have expected anything like you.”
I ughed and shook my head. “Hoy! So o hear.” I turo Dekarru. “Anything else to say or she be escorted to her room now?”
An officer was motioned over and orders were given. The Prihanked us again and was taken away with her now disarmed guard.
Dekarru waited until they were gone before swatting me in the back of the head. “Seriously, you came out here unarmed with no escort to make y public appearance?”
“It all worked out.” I tered with a smirk.
Then Ogaro repeated his fellow oracle’s gesture from my other side. “Dumb luck is all you cim for that. I had a vision I would be needed a Dekarru know trouble might crop up around you today.”
“It wasn’t even that big of a deal.”
Then a third swat to my head came a moment before I felt Luv’s arms around me. “D-dummy. Tell me ime, Carmil and I will k-keep you safe.”
I sighed and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I’m nuing with three people oter. Especially when it’s bound to turn to more soon. I’ll submit to a prote detail, okay? Oh, speaking of, where is Carmil?”
Luv chuckled. “She and Azuriel are in town with Wen, pig up supplies for dinner. Apparently yel w-wants to learn to cook.”
That was adorable. I looked forward to seeing her under Weren’s tutege. Before I could say anything however, a group of three people scurried nervously over towards us. They wore robes of a style on for are schors in Pitrak, ones I had not seen in many years. Not sinot since she received one for her apprenticeship just before I left. They came close and bowed deeply, faces obscured by hoods.
“Saint Dreamsinger? ologize for approag you this way, but we have been tasked with aiding your needs.” The one in the middle spoke and I felt my body freeze. I turned slowly towards them, my lungs refusing to breathe as that voice tore through my mind. It couldn’t be.
“Stareyes?” I heard Dekarru’s voice, worry clear ione.
“Esme, what’s wrong?” Luv spoke from my side, I turo look at her and she wiped tears from my cheek I had not even known I’d shed.
The three stood, awkwardly pulling back their hoods. The woman in the ter spoke again, nervousness growing as she looked at me. I must have been a mess. “We, um, we were told to e and seek you out. The others are meant to, to aid Willow Creek as a whole. But the Dreamer, she said her Saint would have need of us.” I looked into her eyes and I felt my hear try and rip itself free from my chest. The sileretched and she fidgeted in pce, worry leaking into her voice. “I’m sorry, did, did I do something wrong? Oh gods, I didn’t even give our names. I’m so sorry, five me Saint.” She bowed again. “I am-”
“Tendri.” Her name slipped from my lips, a sob following it. I broke.
[End of Arc 4]
