“I’m Lanik Thrakill, Paladin,” he said as Ilior helped Selena step off. “Her Reverence sent me to escort you to the Moon Temple.” He offered Ilior a smooth smile, seeming unperturbed by the Vai’Ensai’s imposing stature.
Selena had never seen the adherent before and her heart lightened for it. A new adherent. So rare, so few. He was a young, handsome fellow with dark hair and striking blue eyes, like chips of sky-colored glass. His tunic was plain and bore none of the elaborate stitching of a higher-ranking adherent.
“I haven’t been gone from Lillomet so very long that I’ve forgotten the way to the Moon Temple,” Selena told him with a smile. “You are new?”
“I am. Just arrived two nights past, though I’d Heard the god ages ago.” Lanik smiled though it didn’t touch his eyes. “It’s taken me quite awhile to find my way here, and now that I have, I am pleased Her Reverence has already entrusted me with such important tasks. She insisted that I escort you. A formality, I’m sure, but it gives me pleasure to extend the courtesy.”
“Your courtesy is appreciated,” Selena said. “And rare.”
“Unlike some of our brethren, Paladin Koren, I harbor no such reservations about being in your presence.” Lanik inclined his head in a bow, but his eyes went to the place on her chest where her wound hid.
Ilior snorted behind them and Selena cleared her throat as a flush colored her neck and ears. She felt it, not as heat, but as an uncomfortable, stinging tingle.
“I meant,” she said tightly, “with our ranks so low as of late, there are few adherents left to extend courtesy to the Paladins. Few Paladins left, for that matter.
“A grievous situation.” Lanik smiled brightly. “Shall we?”
Narrow, winding streets, flanked on either side by stone-and-brick homes led them to the Temple. Flowers colored window ledges in bursts of color, adding their scents to the air that was laced with odors of oil and fish and the remnants of the morning’s baking. Folk out on the street ceased their chatter to watch our small procession—Ilior in particular—wend their way up the hill to the Temple. Lanik led the way and Selena had to quicken her pace to match his long strides.
The cobblestone street snaked up the hill, and when it reached the top, the homes and shops that crowded the way were exchanged for wide expanses of green grasses. Fountains of white marble burbled amid stands of flowers. The cobbles became a smooth, paved walk that led to the immense silver temple that glowed molten in the sunlight. Men in fine suits and women with light dresses and wide-brimmed hats strolled among the walks. As they drew nearer to the Moon Temple, the grass-lined paths should have been busy with adherents, from acolytes to Paladins, but there were none. The Temple stood apart from the hustle and bustle of the city, as if it were waiting for a return to the former glory that its majestic appearance warranted.
The three stepped out of the noonday heat and into the cool of the Temple’s atrium. Insects flitted among the wide-leafed plants, and the fountains burbled but the foliage was browned and sparse. The atrium was open to the sky but tall trees offered shade and shelter from the sun. Selena’s skin lost the faint tingle that signified heat was present. Though it couldn’t have been more than a few degrees cooler within, her skin broke out in gooseflesh and she shivered.
“We’ve been gone a fortnight and yet it looks so much worse,” Selena murmured to Ilior.
He nodded. “They are dying.”
We, the Aluren, are dying, she thought.
“Here I must take my leave,” Lanik said with a short bow. “I will meet you here on the morrow, after first light, to escort you to the Vestibule.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Selena said. “I’ve lived here since I was eight years old. I can find my way.”
“I have no doubts, Paladin,” Lanik replied, “but the High Reverent insists upon it. Formalities.” He smiled again. “Tomorrow then?”
Selena nodded. Celestine was making a show of normalcy and strength when there was neither. “Very well. Tomorrow.”
When he was gone, she felt the weight of Ilior’s glance on her. “You don’t need an escort,” he said bitterly. “You’re no stranger. This is your home.”
Selena sighed. “The Temple feels less and less like my home every time I return.”
Skye’s Decree
The following morning, Selena woke in her bare adherent’s cell—cot, table, lamp, small chest for belongings—to a Temple that bustled with noise like it hadn’t in ten years, since before the war. Armor clanked, booted footsteps stomped, and leather creaked. Men called out or coughed or laughed, their voices bounding down the halls, filling the empty space with glorious sound.
Lying on her back, Selena closed her eyes and imagined it was Paladins who tromped the echoing paths of the Temple. Aluren Paladins in plate armor that gleamed as brightly as the silver stitching on their blue overtunics. She could see sapphires sparkling on dozens of pommels, but the treasure was not the gems, but the sheer number of men and women who wore the Paladin’s sword.
But after she dressed and stepped into the halls, there were no Paladins but herself, and she could not wear gleaming plate. It trapped the icy breath of her wound, encasing her in cold. She had to wear dull chainmail that would never gleam no matter how she polished it, and her overtunic was always thick blue wool.
The tromping boots and low voices belonged to Alliance guardsmen in blue and red, there to protect the Admiral, and to Justarch Osten’s retinue of soldiers in green and gold. A sliver of dread slipped into Selena’s heart as she walked—slowly—to the Vestibule. Four Justarchs presided over the four big islands of the Alliance. Yuri Osten was Justarch over Isle Parish, the island that was home to the Guild, and housed the Order of Shipwrights and Order of Armaments. All three vital to the defense of the Western Watch, and, of course, vital to ensuring the armada was prepared for war.
Ilior wasn’t in sight at the door to the Great Hall that would lead to the interior of the Temple. Lanik Thrakill, with his too-wide smile, stood waiting.
“Where’s Ilior?” Selena asked.
“He had intended to meet you here, though I regretfully sent him away. They wish for you to come alone. The High Reverent insists upon it. Master Ilior told me he’d be waiting for you in the atrium when the meeting was adjourned.”
“Fine, then,” Selena said, though she felt anything but fine. She felt as if she were about to go into battle without the strong wall of a fortress at her back.
“He is a loyal bodyguard.” Lanik opened the great oaken doors for her.