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ArchMagus Orodalf -> RE: =AQ= Edge of Extinction War Stories and Poems Commentary (2/6/2013 0:45:43)
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Falerin, I love Cagliari Lux's character. That is what I have to say.
I've also revised your piece for you-- the grammatical errors are gone in this version.
On the eve of the war...
Diviara Celegra stared at the reassembled statue of Lorithia that would eventually be transferred from the palace to the New Temple of Hope with a sense of odd foreboding, a sense that had been building ever since the Moglin had left.
As a communicant, he could call upon the Powers for guidance, but in matters such as this, experience told him that They wouldn’t answer even if They could.
“You are far too distracted to work, Brilhado; you should join your son on Battleonia…” Myr said, slightly irritated. “Your moping about here actually is hindering rather than aiding my progress. I can hold the fort here until you return.”
Diviara frowned; for while he wanted to do just that, he questioned the point of such travel.
The war between the two factions was spreading. On Deren and Vandar, altercations between the Order of Paladins and the Order of Necromancers had escalated to all-out warfare, just as it had on Battleonia. They did not dare violate the sanctity of Tralin’s city, but passage to the fortress at the Gate had been completely blocked by the armies in motion.
“Why bother? I can see the war here just as easily…”
Myr looked at the Brilhado with an inscrutable expression.
“Because von Krieger and Obsidia are there,” Myr answered pointedly. “If diplomatic avenues are to be pursued, it must be on Battleonia where they occur.”
“What’s the point? I would just be blowing hot air. They seem quite determined in their course. Obsidia will not be happy that we refused her summons to begin with, and Artix wouldn’t even see me, no less listen to me…”
“He is right, you know,” a voice said from the doorway. It was Slugwrath, who had been spending considerable time with the king ever since Diviara had brought him here. Myr did not particularly care for him, but Tralin seemed to have an odd fixation on the former prince. The prince certainly adapted readily to life in a palace…
“I know Krieger all too well. He can be quite single-minded,” the prince continued.
“Hello, Prince Drakath,” Myr said noncommittally. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so.” Drakath answered with a seeming sense of smug satisfaction over the use of the honorific.
“So, unfortunately, do I,” Diviara said wistfully.
“Of course, Brilhado, were I you, I would heed the architect’s advice anyway…”
“Oh, really? And why, pray tell?”
“Because your son is there,” Drakath answered somewhat sardonically, “and he is bound to be caught in the crossfire.”
“Point taken. But I have duties to the crown… And to you.”
“Neither will have gone anywhere in your absence. I, like Myr, am eager to get out from under your thumb, and the king understands family.”
“I certainly do,” Tralin said, entering the room. “I seriously regretted not being at Stone Deep when my father died. I would not have you risk the same fate. Go, Diviara.”
Regret was an understatement, Diviara knew. Tralin had consumed metanoia and very nearly died decimating the army responsible. The fact that Diviara himself had been the general in charge of those armies was not lost on him, either.
“Were you a lesser man, you might say it would be my just desserts.”
“Do not be ridiculous!” Tralin snapped, plainly angry at the mere idea, though he was certain Diviara knew he did not feel that way. “You are my friend. What happened there was lifetimes away…”
“And you are not a lesser man…” Drakath supplied helpfully.
“No,” Diviara said. “Indeed he is not. The three of you planned this in advance, didn’t you?”
Tralin smiled; Myr and Slugwrath merely smirked.
“Whatever gave you that impression?” Tralin asked.
“Call it a hunch. Your arrivals in such short order were… fortuitous.”
“Well, you have been uselessly moping around the castle for three days,” Tralin said. “That might make one think something had to be done. Go and witness history, even if this once you are not to be part of it, my friend.”
“As you wish, your majesty,” Diviara answered, though somehow, he was still unconvinced...
Diviara surveyed the battlefield with a sense of grim determination and then turned to look at his son.
"I am sorry," Diviara said. "What was it you were saying...?"
"I said, I expect Cagliari back with a report at any moment."
As if on cue, Cagliari Lux arrived on the scene. In spite of Cagliari’s decidedly skeletal aspect, Diviara read a distinctly uncharacteristic somberness in his stance.
"How goes the war, soldier?" Amilara asked pointedly.
"You might have chosen a more fortunate analogy, Amilara," Diviara responded quickly, though noting at the same time that it was odd that it would be he correcting Amilara in such a statement.
"Maybe... but the results of these actions are quite plain..." Amilara responded.
"Quite so," Cagliari answered. "Losses are close on all sides, but at the moment the Paladin Order seems to be being karmic-ally rewarded for their instigation of this affront. "
"The Commander must be thrilled..." Diviara said with a frown, something continuing to niggle at him. Something was wrong... but he could not place what.
"He is less than enthusiastic... How ironic would it be for our own Order to succeed where Father Dhows failed? But he sees the fighting as an inevitable result of..."
"What in the world was that?" Diviara interrupted abruptly.
"I beg your pardon..." Cagliari began, and then paused, noting a similar look of consternation on Amilara's face...
"I felt it too..." Amilara answered. "Cagliari, direct your friends and those who remain loyal to fall back to Darkovia and take no further part in this senseless folly."
"My friends, perhaps, but I will stay at your side."
"No, Cagliari, my son is right. You need to fall back..."
"Why? Amilara would never turn from me in an hour of need; I shall not do so now..."
"We need to go to the front, Cagliari, and that would not be a safe place for you."
"And do you think the paladins fighting there will slow long enough to recognize that the two of you are not enemy Brilhado, either?"
"A fair enough point, Cagliari, except that you are talking about Amilara and I. We can keep them at bay with the Cold alone if it came to that, and I do not intend for it to get that far. On the other hand, if you were there, my son would just be worried for your wellbeing. In other words, and I say this not to be inconsiderate but rather with genuine affection, your being there puts Amilara at greater risk than any aid you can offer."
"Put like that... I suppose you are right."
"He is very right, friend. You know me very well. I could not rest for a moment. I would not be on my toes."
"If you are both sure."
"We are sure," Diviara answered. "Sound the retreat, Cagliari, and good luck."
"And to you as well..."
Cagliari exited.
Diviara frowned.
"You were thinking that we may need it, weren't you?"
"Something is definitely very wrong..."
Elsewhere: Brilhado Gate Necromancer's Fortress, Eastern Deren.
The young Brilhado stood before the Fortress at the Gate with a sense of purpose and determination. His attire was typical of the younger necromancers and lacked the more elaborate face paint the older necromancers tended to use as part of their more elaborate rituals. The face paint, of course, served little functional purpose other than striking fear into the minds of those who saw it, and the young necromancer considered himself above such affectation.
“There are those who will tell you that now is the time to fall back, to rest upon our laurels; those who will state that the Order of Mysterious Necromancers’ guidance is suspect, their purpose manipulation. They are, of course, correct: the Order of Mysterious Necromancers offers us nothing in the long run but deception. They were founded on a lie, and their goals are their own advancement. In the end, the time will come for us to cast off the yoke of these would-be leaders…”
“But I tell you, these individuals who cling to the tatters of diplomacy as if somehow they could will peace into existence are no better leaders for the Brilhado than those cloaked magi who hide their acts behind the image of another… “
“These pacifists act not out of vision, but out of fear. The world of Lore is changing. Faced with such a change, and the uncertainty that comes along with it, these diplomats would run and hide like the Drakel of old, who in the hope that they could hide from the Uncreator’s passing, took to the mountains for 1000 years…”
“My father led the Brilhado in the wake of such a ruler. I’ve seen directly the results of such cowardly guidance… and it is the very same deposed leader whose counsel now suggests that we should turn aside from this conflict.”
“Were the wishes of the Celegra family realized, the Brilhado would be reduced to an afterthought, a footnote, on the pages of history. Worse, the very creature that slew my father offers the Drakel king guidance at the hand of that same family…”
“Diviara Celegra may be loyal to the Uncreator, but he is a traitor to the Brilhado, to our people, to our culture, and to our history… and his son Amilara is an apostate who would lead us in a different war entirely, a civil war from within, seeking to liberate the very creatures who owe their continued existence to our intervention but who ungratefully shove us away.”
“The rightful place of our kind is as the rulers of this weak and failing world and not as afterimages barely able to hold on to their own light… no less lead their new creation and bring life and light to that darkness…”
“Remember, we did not create this war, and those who say that we are equally culpable in rising to the bait of our aggressors are engaged in a subterfuge. We respond to threats on our very way of living; not responding to such aggression is the same as acquiescence to the aggressor, and I tell you that such action will never stand. It is the Paladins who brought this new calamity upon our heads, and it is the Paladin Order who must pay the levy and tariff that is due for such actions. ”
“There are those who are calling now for an election among our people. Who would defy the record and wishes of our late great ruler, Shroudbrood, my father, in selecting his own replacement? Who would add to this conflict, a battle of succession? Have we not faced enough in this unprovoked war, on our very livelihoods without adding internal drama to the conflict?”
“Mark me well. Down that pathway lays the bones and ashes of our enemies. The people of Vandar ruled via acclamation, and their rulership created the very foundations that the Brilhado used to reclaim our foothold in this world.”
“Ask yourself: What is being sought in such a call? Why might the Celegras and those like them wish to interfere with the orderly and proper succession of the Brilhado people?”
“I say unto you, it is no wonder that Diviara Celegra would support such a course, it is no wonder because he, as a Wearer of the Mantle, used just such a tyranny of the majority, to control Vandar, Neld, and ultimately Deren…”
“Celegra is no better than a hypocrite, and he will use just such an illusion of choice to guide our people, not into glory, but into the faded memories of the past that he offers as a false hope of the world to come…"
"We know that that which has fallen does not simply rise again, but that which has fallen can be made to rise via the very arts we have mastered for so long…”
“We must stand strong. The Brilhado must respond to any threat to our sovereignty and authority with unflinching determination and single-minded perseverance. We must see through false promises and hopes and build a future based upon the glory of our past station rather than on the memories of a world long since lost to us.”
“Grimveil, the rightful leader of the Brilhado people and general of her necromancers, has spoken.”
Grimveil paused to assess the impact of his words upon the assembly. As cheers and adulation echoed through the meeting hall, he saw that they had had the desired effect; he had masterfully played upon the doubt and insecurity of the people and fed them with the sustenance of his father’s truth. In doing so, he had signed the warrant extending his own authority. The Brilhado would stay the course; he was now certain that the election would be at the very least delayed until the aftermath of these events…
Cagliari Lux stood at the edge of Darkovia looking out into the world beyond. For the moment, the war situation seemed to have abated near this front. Cagliari was struck by the curiosity of this fact—given Darkovia’s long history with the forces in question, it seemed odd somehow that Battleon was locked in combat while Darkovia was in a period of relative calm.
A strange wall of shifting Shadow enveloped the camp. Cagliari could see readily through the shifting Light and Darkness, but for most beings living or undead, the tenebromantic effect was enough to cause difficulty. Ironically, had Erebus still been a factor in this attack, it was very unlikely that this shielding would have served any effect, even created, as it was, by a servitor of both the Lady of Light and the Lord of Darkness.
The number of undead and other creatures, which fled from the advance of the armies into the embrace of the forest, was rapidly increasing as well. The word had rapidly gotten out that undead seeking to survive the massacre being rapidly forced upon them by the warring forces of Paladins and Necromancers should seek shelter in Darkovia.
Interestingly, it was not merely undead that came. A large number of living beings had come as well; whether in support of the undead or fleeing for their own reasons was difficult to say, but the refugee camp was rapidly spilling past its borders and would need to be expanded again in another day or so.
Cagliari frowned, detecting the movement of a child near the furthest edges of the camp perimeter. What was a child doing there? If he pressed beyond the perimeter, he would quickly become fodder for the roving creatures of Darkovia.
Cagliari moved to redirect the child, but stopped. As he drew close, he recognized the figure for what, and for whom, he was.
“Good evening, Loremaster,” Cagliari said to the young boy.
“Good evening, Brother Lux,” the child stated simply.
“With respect, Loremaster, why are you here? I was under the distinct impression that the Pantheon was maintaining a policy of strict neutrality in these affairs.”
“I have never been one to sit around idly,” Falerin responded. “My fellows can make all of the proclamations they want, and the official position does indeed remain one of non-interference, but I have taken the position, supported by those same individuals, that the non-interference paradigm is restricted to the actual conflict. This camp, therefore, is outside of the matter, and I have received calls seeking aid.”
“It must take a particular individual to contact you.”
“Once, maybe. I have been a bit less than secretive about my home number and address of late, though. Oddly enough, my requests for aid come from two very disparate sources.”
“Lady Cenara and her half-brother….”
“No. That may have been unusual, but it hardly would have been odd, given the fact that Lady Cenara and Lord Donovan both have a standing agreement with me. Interestingly, neither party has asked me for aid in these events. I think they both know that my taking a direct hand would be problematic…”
“My requests come from one of the higher members of the Paladin Order, the Paladin Coueraservi, and a very particular necromancer, Amilara Celegra. You know both parties, I think…”
Cagliari looked at Falerin curiously. “Coueraservi sought your aid in this conflict? And what did he seek?”
“The same thing that Amilara Celegra did actually, which is actually why I have responded.”
Cagliari frowned. “The same thing…?”
“The protection of the people who have been seeking shelter here from being caught in the crossfire. Those who have gathered under the banner of one of the various lords and ladies who rule this region have their own protection, but those who have taken up shelter here can turn to neither Donovan nor Cenara, neither Constantin nor Safiria… your comrades here, Cagliari, are the only true innocents in this conflict, and neither Commander Coueraservi nor Amilara wishes to see you caught in the inevitable crossfire.”
“Amilara, I can understand, but why would Coueraservi involve himself in this way, especially knowing that it might be considered an act of treason by some within his order?”
“I cannot begin to speculate on the motives of the man. I can only say that those motives are genuine. Perhaps Coueraservi shares more with Commander Paladin than their station or strikingly familiar appearance.”
“They do look quite similar…”
“Paladin himself is bound by the same non-intervention that the others are. It is a risk that the Lady even allows you to be involved, but she knows that this is your direct home, that these are your people. What happened in Luminovia is long ago, but what has happened to you here is very fresh indeed.”
“Yes, I suppose so. I guess I can understand Coueraservi’s motivation, but it seems he takes a grave risk in making such a proclamation publically…”
“Unquestionably, there are those in the order who would disagree with his choice, but very few in the order would dare impugn his motives. After what Coueraservi suffered for the order, he is viewed as ‘entitled’ to his eccentricities.”
A buxom Brilhado Lich landed in the camp. Cagliari recognized the woman as the same Lich who had served as the Lady’s harbinger of Commander Paladin’s return. While there was something apropos in that assignment, it seemed that the Lady of Light, like the Caelestian, was fully prepared to skirt the boundaries of the non-intervention order.
“The Barrier is weak at Quadrant 3, Sector 7, and at Quadrant 4, Sector 9. Are you certain we cannot simply do estate transference as before…?”
“I am certain,” the child answered. He then shifted form into his more muscular human counterpart.
“Given my own direct involvement in the Lorian pantheon, transport of large numbers of Darkovian undead and random Darkovian creatures into Caelestia for an unknown duration…” He shifted yet again, this time into his more young-adult form. Here he seemed to settle.
“It would raise questions I would be unable to answer. Many would consider it a direct violation of the Farpoint, and learning that I did so with the sufferance of Lorithia, but not with her authorization, would only increase those tensions.”
For Cagliari, this was itself worrisome. He had been around the Powers for enough years to have a pretty strong understanding of Their actions, and if three of Them (for where the Lady of Light went, the Lord of Darkness surely followed) were flaunting the orders of the Creator, there must be a very good reason why. This certainty grew for Cagliari until it was unavoidable, and finally he voiced it...
“Why?”
“I assume that the answer is because he fought beside many of you in Donovan’s action; he even fought against many of you, which is bound to have a lasting impact on someone as introspective as Coueraservi.”
“No, I do not mean that. I mean, why are you doing this? Why are any of You involved?”
“You have aided us before,” the Lady Lich answered.
“And Cagliari,” Falerin supplied, “you know very well that war makes for strange friends...”
"That is not an answer. You know something about this that you are not sharing."
“If that were so, Cagliari,” Falerin said pointedly, shifting into his Lanfiré form in a manner somehow quite distinct from the lazy shifting that had come before it, “how would your asking aid the situation in any manner, shape, or form? In fact, how would your asking do anything, other than to draw unnecessary attention to the fact that…”
Giliara Celegra landed at the edge of the field and crossed to the Lich and to Falerin.
“Hello, Gil,” Falerin stated, resuming normal form.
“Hello, Fal,” Giliara answered. “Why if it isn’t Cagliari Lux… hello, my friend…”
Cagliari considered the dead Brilhado with a sidelong glance. That Giliara was present could only mean that the Lady of Light was taking a firm and direct hand in these matters. This made little sense to Cagliari, however; Commander Paladin was excluded by the Lady, and so instead, She sent one of Her most direct servitors…?
Worse, given Giliara's status, he was one even more likely to be perceived as being Her direct meddling in the affairs occurring here. Why would She do that?
“I had to be sure neither of my relations was present before landing here. I have been forbidden from direct contact with my brother or nephew in this event. Nor can I aid directly aid or proffer assistance to either side of the warring parties. My attention is instead focused on the plight of my people, and those of the undead.”
“The plight of your people…?” Cagliari began.
“The Brilhado,” Giliara answered, “all Brilhado, and not merely the necromancers, have been affected by this war, and in its aftermath, they stand to be affected even more surely. My purpose in regard to them is simple. I was the first Brilhado Communicant of the Lady since the Fall. With the changing face of Lore, we expect others may soon follow my lead; I am to aid the passage of those of our kind who would seek service under the Lady in Aloria.”
“The changing face of Lore?”
Falerin shook his head, cutting off any sort of response from Giliara. “We cannot. He is too involved. Besides, your brother is on the front this very moment… They will learn…”
Giliara frowned slightly, and then, nodding slightly, turned to Cagliari. “Tell my brother and nephew that I miss them; it has been too long since either of them has visited Aloria…”
“You really intend to keep what it is you know secret…”
“We must, Cagliari, for all of our sakes. Know this: war has consequences.”
“I know that very well… better than most.”
“And you know I would never willingly put my nephew or brother in jeopardy. Don’t you, Cagliari?”
“That is true, even when Diviara plainly was acting against us, you refused to cleanly choose sides…”
“So the stakes here…”
“They must be very large indeed…”
“I am afraid that they are,” Giliara finished. “The anchors have been placed, Loremaster. We are ready to amplify the maze of Shadows. You are certain this will work…?”
“I am positive. Given where it was obtained.”
“How does it work?” the lich asked.
“It will increase the maze’s complexity and shifting nature, and it will strengthen the Shadow itself into a unidirectional mass. Those hostile to the camp will find themselves turned around completely by the Shadows and forced back outward to the edge of the forest. Consider it an opposite variation of…”
Falerin stopped abruptly, but the Lady nodded.
“I understand,” she said. “So we have aid from there as well…”
“Favors have been called; new ones are being formed,” Falerin answered.
“Cagliari, these undead will need your guidance; not just your compatriots, but all of those who have sought shelter here,” Giliara stated.
“A number that may soon increase quite a bit…” the lich provided.
“We have said too much,” Falerin said. “Cagliari understands that they will be depending on him. That is the best we can do.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” the Lich said. “Giliara we must depart”.
“Time to leave, Cagliari; send my regards to everyone…” Giliara said, though even as he said it his appearance and those of the other interlopers was rapidly fading into nonexistence.
Soon, Cagliari found himself once again alone in the encampment, somewhat bewildered. “Just what in the outer planes was going on here?”
Cagliari stopped at the place that Lady Cenara had indicated with a frown. There did not appear to be anything particularly special about this particular glade of trees that set it apart from others in the Darkovian wilderness. Not for the first time, Cagliari worried that his journey to this place was in vain, but in the absence of Commander Paladin’s leadership, Cagliari found himself faced with the prospects of once again leading his brethren, and he felt it important to remind himself the reasons why he remained with his charge.
“Uh… Abode?” Cagliari began uncertainly. Before the words were finished being spoken, Cagliari noted with surprise that the trees of the forest had metamorphosed around him into an elaborate hall dominated by a large quantity of odd-looking doors.
“Yes, Brother Cagliari Lux.” A voice seemed to come from every direction at once. “Welcome to the Hall of Memories. How may I assist you in your journey?”
“You can trace any memory?”
“Any for which I have a record, which, given that I access the prime memory store of the Astral Plane itself, is virtually any memory. Some extremely potent entities have been known to interfere with the effect, but such is very rare.”
“I wish to see the final fall of Luminovia into Darkovia.”
“That is a fairly broad request, brother… Do you perhaps have a specific place we can start?”
“Shortly after Commander Paladin’s undeath, when he assumed control of the Lady’s armies…”
A door further along the hall swung open, a series of runes glowing lightly on the surface before fading into darkness.
“Proceed at will.”
Cagliari dug up his courage and entered the door, and all at once the present ceased to be and Cagliari found himself returned to the past from whence he had come.
A small sunlit grove of trees shrouded in mists took the place of the Hall. It was at once similar and yet very different from the grove in which he had stood before entering the Hall of Memories in the first place.
Cagliari recognized the scene, but not the perspective, and turned around a bit confused…
“I am the Commander,” Cagliari said.
“You are the Commander,” a voice answered, and Cagliari realized with a start that it was his own younger self that was answering. “And the downfall of Seth Cay Dhows has already been set in motion…”
“Brother,” the older Cagliari, in the Commander’s form, began, “it will not be that easy… Our efforts against Father Dhows may take a very long time to come to fruition. I would not want to give you false hope.”
“Any hope at all is not false hope, Commander,” the younger Cagliari responded.
“Cagliari,” Paladin’s voice answered, “Beware of letting your desire for vengeance cloud your vision. Such must never be our purpose. Our form may have changed, but our charge has not.”
“I know, Commander. Our purpose is the protection of the innocent… as it always has been.”
“Quite so, Brother. Quite so.”
“Good day to you, my children.” A melodic female Voice spoke.
“My Lady,” Cagliari said, his younger self echoing his words nearly immediately.
“Brother Cagliari Lux,” the Lady spoke. “How well have you served me…”
“Service to your person, my Lady, has been my honor and my Life’s work…”
“And your Unlife’s work, too, it seems, Brother Lux…” Another Voice joined the Lady’s, as husky and reverberating as the Lady’s was dulcet and mellifluous.
“Yes, sir.” The younger Cagliari answered the Lord of Darkness with deference and respect.
“Would you be free of the burden of your service to us?” the Lady asked then. “Your obligations have more than been fulfilled, and the Commander has assumed his proper role at our side…”
“Lady?” the young undead priest answered. “Do you mean, do I wish to die?”
“Of course not,” the Lord of Darkness answered for His Consort. “What sort of payment for the service you have done the Church would your death be?”
“They do say that there is peace in death and freedom… He may wish such...”
“I…” the young knight began.
“If such were your desire, brother,” the Lord continued, “we could accommodate you, though we were thinking that perhaps what you would really prefer would be a return to your life as it would have been had the usurper not interfered.”
“You have earned this. Take it,” Commander Paladin said, “but you must act quickly; in short order, the armies of the king will take this forest and bring it under the control of the crown. When that event occurs, its fall into corruption will have been completed.”
“Drageth Slugwrath is no king…”
“Of course he is. A petty tyrant… but nevertheless a monarch. Luminovia has already fallen Cagliari. Time has just not caught up to the shade’s plans yet…”
“But the Commander? The Armies?”
“The showdown between the Commander and Dhows will take place at a place and time far removed from this one. Long will the Commander prepare at our side in Aloria, and when the time comes, the gateway will be reopened for his return,” the Lady responded.
“But what of the people here? What will become of them…?”
“That depends entirely by what you mean by that query, my priest. The humans will adjust, as they are prone to do. Dhows himself, we are now certain, will proceed to that very future to which we have tracked him, as for him that moment and this one are forever linked.”
“The Werewolves and the Vampires will grow in strength and number, the war which the Usurper started growing with them. The children and grandchildren of Luminovia will see other forces rise to take the place of ancient evils.”
“And the armies I have led here, the people that have joined us. Will they join the Commander…?”
“On that point, I am afraid that I can offer no answer of reassurance… A few will come to Aloria, but we cannot transport them all, and the longer we fight the shade in this era, the more powerful he will become in that one. We cannot afford to focus our attention for too long here, knowing that it is not here that the discord shall reach its culmination.”
“There is another option,” the young priest answered. “I remain here as their leader, awaiting the Commander’s return. I live through that which is to come.”
“To live that long, Brother, you would need to remain undead,” Paladin spoke, Cagliari already knowing what his younger self would answer.
“And so I remain as the undead. I still live, I still hope, I still dream.”
Paladin nodded his head respectfully as Cagliari continued his soliloquy. “All that has changed for me is my form. How could I as a faithful servant to the Lady turn my back on these people, on my charge, and still call myself a Communicant of the Light?”
“You have earned your freedom and your life already, Cagliari…”
“No… Commander. You have your destiny. I have my own. This is my destiny. These people are my fate. I know their plight better than any other who would take up their cause because I live it daily… My Lady, with respect, I wish to remain in Luminovia. This is my home, and these are my people.”
“We had suspicions that you might answer that way, Brother,” the Lord of Darkness replied kindly, “but once closed, it may be that that door can never again be reopened. Do you know what you are saying…?”
“With every fiber of my being, my Lord. I know it. I accept it. These are my people. This is my home.”
“So be it, then,” the Lady said. “You may return to your tent, Brother. One last thing, though. There may come a time when you have cause to regret your decision. To doubt that you will ever hear my Voice again.”
“As you live through the ages that others pass through in moments, you will do it for long stretches alone…” the Darkness Lord continued.
“Know this, my priest. You are and have been loved, and I will ever return for you. Even when it seems hopeless… Trust in the Light and you shall never be truly alone. Trust in the Darkness and you shall always have comfort.”
“My Lady, my Lord, Commander Paladin… it has been an honor.”
The young priest left then, and Cagliari was startled to see the Lady of Light and Lord of Darkness made manifest in the grove very directly. Their demeanor and gaze instantly told him that this was not merely a memory that he perceived but something more than that.
“I never regretted,” Cagliari said. “Not even when the Uncreator came, or the Brilhado or other necromancers cast us under their thrall. I never regretted. Questioned my sanity a time or two, yes, but never regretted.”
“All this we well know, Father Lux,” the Darkness Lord answered.
“With respect, Lord, after the fall of the church, I never rose further in station.”
“Didn’t you, and who is better equipped to promote you than I am, my Communicant?” the Lady answered.
“None, Lady; I did not mean offense. It is only that Dhows so tainted that title…”
“Erebus so tainted the title that it will take a truly great man to reclaim it. You are that man, Cagliari Lux. You are that man if only for the ages you served here.”
“The door has reopened to you now,” the Darkness Lord added. “That door we were uncertain could ever be opened again.”
“Things once again teeter on a precipice, and once again we offer you release from this. Release as the Living, or should you choose, release as the dead.”
“No Lady. I am no less alive today than when I joined your church. In fact, in many ways, I only began to learn to live when I died…”
“I do not seek to change what I am; for in doing so I would change who I am.”
“Yes, we suspected that you would answer that way. Yet the offer still needed to be made, as the offer was earned.”
“The journey to this place has been hard for you at times Father Lux. The journey ahead may be harder still…”
“And as before, there will be times where we will be unable to answer,”tThe Lady said completing the idea Her Husband had started.
“The future is never certain, Lady, but this is certain. I will always be true to myself. This world is my home. These people are my family.”
“How rightly we chose you, brother, so long ago.”
“Very well then, priest, you must return to your encampment. Your people need you now more than ever. When our powers fly out of control and those who wield them have lost their way, someone must remain a voice of reason.”
And with that, the Voices fell silent and Cagliari noted with a start that he was no longer in the Hall of Memories, nor indeed even in the grove by which he had entered the hall, but rather had been transported to within a stone’s throw of the encampment.
Cagliari moved toward the camp with a surprising grace for a skeletal figure and with a renewed sense of purpose. There was a war on now, but no war lasted forever. The conflict always ended, and in the aftermath, there were always messes left to clean up.
And cleaning up messes was something Father Cagliari Lux was very good at…
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