“She can’t refuse to allow me to complete the tazkiah!”, exclaims Deirdre, jumping up from the chair and glaring down at Faisal. “I have completed all the training and tasks required by the Karain!”

Faisal stands as well, bowing to the young woman. “Ten thousand pardons, Deirdre, but Dawnsister Scarlet believes that your understanding and acceptance of The Book of Dawn remains inadequate to the task of ministering to the people of this land. She has proclaimed that you must continue your training before she will consent to your undergoing the Greater Cleansing.”

“That’s ridiculous! If we were in Qadira there would be no question of my readiness, and no-one would dare deny this. Especially after I have proven myself through the Fasting. I can’t believe you are agreeing with her! This is…”, Deirdre pauses in her rant as she notices Faisal’s expression. “Wait… you don’t agree with her, do you? I can see it in your face. Why are you allowing this?”

Faisal sighs, “This is not the first matter of Proper Forms in which the Dawnsister and I have differed in our opinions, and will not likely be the last. But she remains the ranking member of the Brethren and I accept her decision in this matter.” The holy warrior reaches out and grasps the young woman’s hand gently. “Besides, in this matter I may be somewhat biased in my opinion.”

Deirdre is confused, even as her heart races in response to the subtle, but intimate, gesture.

“What do you mean?”, she asks.

Faisal kneels before the young woman, bowing his head. “I mean that I have reconsidered the feelings that you offered to me months ago. Without noticing, I had begun to return them, to find that your presence is not only welcome, but desired. I was denying them, because of hopeless feelings for another, but I spoke with the Dawnsister about this and she helped me realize what I must do.”

Deirdre feels faint, her mind unable to form coherent thoughts.

“So, yes, I do strongly disagree with the Dawnsister on the matter of your tazkiah, because I have a strong motivation to see you complete the Cleansing. It would be improper for a feda-ghazi to love one who had not undergone the ritual, but it would also be wrong for me to oppose the Dawnsister’s will for my own selfish interests.”

The young woman sits down in her chair, still lost for words.

“So I beg of you, Deirdre. Work hard and study well. Convince the Dawnsister of your devotion and wisdom so that she will consent to your tazkiah, and allow us to be together.”

Faisal rises, bending down again to place a kiss on the young woman’s forehead. “I must go. Perhaps you would find it helpful to perform a wuhdu vigil in the shrine tonight. It is not the tazkiah that we both desire, but it may clear your mind and help you recognize what you must do.”

After the warrior’s departure, Deirdre sits in a daze for many long minutes.

He loves me!

I won!

He never loved that witch, and with the Oracle gone there was nothing left to distract him. I won…

Wait… He spoke with the Dawnsister about this? She knows that he loves me? THAT BITCH! No wonder she won’t let me complete the Cleansing! It was never his unrequited love for her that was the problem! She loves him and is trying to keep us apart!

We shall see about that! She will not have him, even if I must to find another spear!

Scarlet trudges to her chamber door, exhausted by another council meeting and day of thankless leadership. Being Duchess was less stressful with Faisal and Deirdre out of her hair, but she missed Ildrim’s calm advice and level head. The chance to have a moment of peace and quiet, alone in her room, in her comfortable bed, was all that was keeping her going along the seemingly endless hallway.

Stepping into the room, the red-haired woman almost cries in frustration as Captain Carson scrambles up from the table set in the middle of the room. The surface is covered in an elaborate meal, with candles and wine, the room filled with the heavenly aroma of fresh bread and warm spices. Despite the enticement of having the meal she missed because of the meetings, Scarlet is ready to weep in despair at having to once again fend off the weaselly little man.

Goddess! Why can’t he just take NO for an answer?!

The Captain grabs wine from the table and hurries over, placing the glass of deep red liquid in her hand and guiding her toward the comfortable looking chair.

“Oh, my dear Scarlet. You are exhausted from your duties. Come sit and relax. Allow me to serve you and take away your worries.”

The chair is as luxurious as it looks, and despite herself, Scarlet sits and lets out an involuntary sigh. Carson begins rubbing her shoulders gently, her enjoyment of the massage warring with the revulsion of having the sweaty little man touch her.

“Drink your wine, my dear”, he urges. “It will help you relax.”

Scarlet slowly opens her eyes to find herself groggily seated in a dim lit room accompanied by a pounding headache.

As she regains consciousness, she attempts to rub the back of her head but suddenly realizes she is restrained, her wrists tied together behind her seat.

Confused and scared, she struggles with all her might to break free but after an exhausting attempt, she desists feeling weak. Shortly after the blurriness disappears, Scarlet lowers her head to spot her feet tied together with rope and cautiously scans her surroundings with her keen elven sight yet fails to elicit her whereabouts after a careful examination.

“Where am I?”, she weakly utters to herself.

Several minutes later, a torch mounted to an alcove facing her direction uncovering the art and architecture of a temple. Scarlet immediately curses herself for not following up on her studies of religion.

A shadowy figure steps into the light illuminated by the torch revealing a woman with dark hair dressed in an alluring, silky black robe accentuating her bosom and wearing a scaled cloak. Wielding a whip in her right hand, she slowly approaches the duchess vicinity and pulls it back and with full force she lashes it across the duchess face causing Scarlet to yelp in pain.

“Wake up Sleeping beauty!” Deidre orders.

Scarlet quells the sting through prayer and meditation ignoring the blood from her nostrils oozing down her lips and staining her nightgown. Deidre examines Scarlet closely noticing the bruises covered over the Dawnsister’s arms and face from her previous beatings. A long red streak from the whiplash runs from the top of her forehead over one of her bloodshot eye all the way down to her blotchy lips. Scarlet exhibits signs of sleep deprivation by the slouched posture, disheveled hair, and droopy eyes.

Deidre smiles pleased at what she sees and remarks, “Well not so beautiful anymore. Sleeping ugly is more like it.”

Scarlet shakily says, “Deidre, Why… why are you doing this to me? I have done nothing to you but showed you love and compassion.”

All humor escapes Deidre’s face and with sudden unrepentant rage, she strikes her again causing Scarlet to cry in anguish once more and tremble in fear.

Deidre yells, “You devious bitch! ENOUGH with your lies! You will pay for all you’ve done! ”

“I …I… I do not follow. What have I done to pain you?”

Irritated by Scarlet’s response, Deidre circles around her captive and answers through clenched teeth, “Don’t toy with me. YOU know very well what you have done. You took Faisal from me. You sent me away to keep us apart.”

Completing the circle, Deidre shouts while spitting in the duchess face. “HE WAS MINE!!!! And you STOLE him from me. And to add insult to injury, you were never worthy of him! He was devoted to you and dedicated his life to protect you! But did YOU the worthless harlot repaid him with the respect and honor he so much deserved. NO! Did you return his unsparing affections? NO!!! Instead you treat him like a pathetic stray mutt to dash to you at your beck and call. For this, you shall pay!”

Scarlet looks wide-eyed at the lunatic standing before her questioning if she can reason with her.

“No…No” Scarlet shakes her head.

“This is a misunderstanding… I can assure you he does not affections for me. He has confessed to me his feelings for you and I encouraged him to propose to you. Secondly, You are gravely mistaken for I do appreciate and respect him. Unlike the customs in Qadira, I treat him as my equal and expect noth… ”

Deidre cuts her off. “LIES… He told me his heart belongs to someone else.”

Scarlet recalls Faisal mentioning he was devoted to someone else who was unattainable in passing and asks. “Did you ever ask him who is the object of his affections?”

Deidre ignores Scarlet question and says, ”It doesn’t matter anyways. Faisal wouldn’t marry an Uncleansed One and YOU refused to perform the tazkiah on me. You told him I wasn’t fit to become a Dawnsister. You never planned on turning me into one. You USED me just like you used him!”

As Deidre pulls back the whip, Scarlet pleas, “No! Stop. I planned on ordaining you once you have matured, completed your studies and have fulfilled all your duties as an acolyte. But how could I when your jealousy has kept you from unveiling your true calling and your selfishness and disobedience prevent you from focusing on your studies and carrying out the Goddess purpose and Our Mission.”

Deidre flustered responds, “But… But I have! I studied the Karain and learned the Qadiran customs and assisted…”

Scarlet bites her lips suppressing her frustration and mutters under her breath. ”Stubborn like Faisal!”

“That is your problem. I have told you countless times we are not in Qadira. You must follow the Book of Dawn doctrines in order to be ordained and work in Tuskany or anywhere in Brevoy and the River Kingdoms for that matter. How could you become a Dawnsister when you heart is not pure … A Dawnsister must atone for all her misdeeds and dedicate her life to helping others. It is not too late for you. You can start by releasing me.”

Deidre remains silent lost in her thoughts. Shortly after, she shakes head eyeing the Duchess with an expression of contempt.

“NO! I don’t need you or your stupid Dawn Book! The Goddess has already given me great powers. More powers than you will ever possess in your pathetic life!”

Confused, Scarlet shakes her head in denial and ponders, ”No. No. That’s not possible. The Goddess would never grant divine powers to those that are not worthy. ”

But turns her attention to her captor and inquires, “Then what do you want from me? “

Deidre presses her face close to Scarlet’s. “I want you to suffer for how you made me suffer by keeping me apart from my beloved Faisal for so long.”

“But… but my people will come for me. Faisal will come for me and see what you have become. Do you think he will ever forgive you when he sees the harm you inflicted on me?”

Deidre bursts out laughing. “Forgetful are we now. I’ll have showed your duchy what a treacherous pathetic weakling you are and they have already forsaken you. Rest assured for no one will come for you. “
She pauses and continues, ”And as for Faisal… well let just say I had assistance bringing you here…”

A tall, dark, broad-shouldered warrior in full-plate Armour emerges from the shadows. Scarlet immediately recognizes the holy symbol tattooed on his forehead. Faisal stands firmly behind Deidre with a stoic expression and a stony demeanor staring blankly at the Dawnsister.

Scarlet screams as Deidre lashes her in the face with the whip. The motionless Faisal watches unfazed by the torture.

“Faisal! What is the matter with you? Please, please help me!” Scarlet pleas.

“He doesn’t answer to you anymore, shrew! Only to me!” Deidre replies. Deidre continuously whips Scarlet releasing her rage until Scarlet’s entire face is reddened.

Within several minutes, Diedre sighs and drops the whip. “I had enough.” She looks intently in blood-shot eyes of the tortured priestess’ and says with defiance and conviction. “I’ll see to it that you will never have him and will never keep us apart. ”

With that she commands the Dawnwarrior, “Finish her!”

“As you proclaim, my love”, Faisal responds.

Scarlet’s heart skips a beat as he unsheathes his sword and slowly approaches her.

“Stop! I am begging you! Do not do this in the name of the Goddess!”

Ignoring the priestess pleas, Faisal lifts his sword to Scarlet’s throat.

The Dawnsister gulps and shakily says, “Faisal! It is I, Scarlet- your friend and a Dawnsister. If you have a soul, I implore you to stop now!!! ”

“Enough already – Kill her!” Deidre orders, her voice overpowering the duchess.

With a swift swing of his sword, his blade pierces through her throat ending Scarlet’s loud, long shriek.
After a very brief moment of excruciating pain, there was darkness.

A lone woman kneels at the edge of a crystal clear pool in Candlemere island. Words of power echo from her throat. In front of her the pool coalesces into an image. An image she never looks up at, but keeps her head bowed in respect and fear.

“My Queen, mere death does not stop those who stand in your way. However, I have located their resource granting them power over death. I have set in motion plans to neutralize this resource. The plan to remove the trespassers from your lands has met with some success. Your agent was able to remove the one called Faisal from your lands and send him back to his desert on some fool’s errand. The others did not join him, but still remain. That leaves three who might fit the prophecy; Nicholas Woode, Brother Shin and Glynraven Borst .”

“Glynraven has resisted the charms of Malinda, so we may need to try a different approach. Nicholas soon shall have a wife, leaving us a hook with which to control him. However a fertility charm on their wedding night may soon give us twice the number of hook. I am still working on unraveling Brother Shin’s past to see if there is anything which we can use against him, but his obsession with the path to perfection may offer some footholds.”

Even in the cool spring night air beads of sweat appeared on her brow while awaiting her queen’s judgement of her actions.

“This is a foolish waste of time, Dawnsister”, insists Faisal, arms folded across his chest in defiance. “We should set off to Restov immediately. I am certain that Brother Morric will be eager to restore the Oracle as soon as possible.”

Scarlet takes a deep breath, careful in choosing her words. The holy warrior had been in a dark spirit since he and Ildrim returned from Qadira, and everyone in the castle had learned to be wary of his unpredictable moods.

“I understand you are anxious to act, Dawnwarrior”, she replies, emphasizing his title in hopes that he will focus more on duty than anger. “I don’t intend to delay you any more than necessary, but it would only be Proper to consult with the Oracle herself before undertaking any major interventions.”

“Yes, mualim”, interjects Deirdre, “The Dawnsister is right. We should not rush into anything without thinking it through carefully.”

Scarlet’s eyes narrow at the younger woman’s agreement. Not only was it suspicious that she be so eager to lend her support, but it had been months since she had referred to Scarlet as Dawnsister instead of Duchess.

What are you up to, Deirdre?

Faisal visibly reigns in his anger, grinding his teeth together. “As. You. Proclaim. Dawnsister”, he says, biting off each word.

Both women breathe sighs of relief, although Scarlet suspects that they do so for different reasons.

“Very good”, says the priestess. “We may as well resolve this right away. Deirdre, please prepare the Oracle’s body in the shrine. I shall be along momentarily to speak with her spirit.”

“What?!”, exclaims the acolyte. “You mean now? I thought… that is… Yes, Dawnsister.”

What are you hiding? Perhaps the Oracle will be able to tell us…

---

Deirdre feels her stomach lurch as the body of the Oracle opens its eyes to stare sightlessly at Scarlet. The acolyte has seen the priestess speak with the dead before, but it is still a disturbing sight.

Especially when one is terrified about what the corpse could say.

“Jaiyana Zakaria ibnt Raeesa ibnt Yasmin ibnt Heydar ibn Khashifa al-Qadira, Oracle of Katheer, Servant of The Sarenrae. I call upon the spirit of your life, that you may pass along your knowledge and wisdom to those still living.”

“I will answer your questions, Scarlet Estelda ibnt Talreth ibn Sibrari ibnt Maerwen ibnt Allora amat-Sarenrae al-Tuskany, Dawnsister of The Eternal Light of Justice and Compassion.”

The acolyte gasps in surprise while Scarlet and Faisal both appear shocked at the corpse’s complex speech. Never before had Deirdre seen a body speak in more that a few cryptic and repetitive sentences, let alone directly address the priestess by name.

“What is going on here?”, asks Scarlet, looking to Faisal for some explanation.

“You have called on my spirit to answer your questions, Dawnsister.”

“That wasn’t meant for you!”, exclaims Scarlet, still flustered by the corpse’s strange behavior. The Oracle remains eerily motionless as it waits for another question.

Scarlet looks to Faisal, silently asking her previous question. The warrior begins by mouthing the reply, then realizes the ridiculousness of the act and speaks out loud.

“I do not know, Dawnsister. I have never seen the like, nor do I recall any such event in the Holy Texts. Of course, I am also unaware of anyone ever questioning an Oracle in this manner.”

“Fine”, sighs Scarlet. “Oracle, do you have any objection to our undertaking a return of your spirit to the land of the living?”

The corpse turns its empty gaze toward Faisal, who does a poor job of hiding his revulsion.

“No, Faisal, you may not tear me from the arms of The Sarenrae. I have served Her wishes and grand plan. You must not undo all that we have accomplished in fighting the rising Shadows.”

“But how does your death serve anything?”, pleads the warrior. “I need… We need your wisdom and guidance through dark times.”

The corpse ignores Faisal’s plea and returns its gaze to Scarlet, waiting for the next question.

“Then how do you wish us to honor your spirit and memory, Jaiyana?”

“I would have you purify these remains in the Holy City of Abu-Al-Bazit, from the top of the new Holy Spire, at the dawning of the Solstice Triumphant.”

Scarlet pauses for a long moment, apparently contemplating her last question. She directs a faraway look toward Deirdre, sending a terrible shiver up the dark-haired woman’s spine.

“Jaiyana, how did you die?”

Deirdre feels as if she is about to vomit.

“This body perished from a spear through the heart, thrust by the will of the Shadow which corrupts from within.”

The acolyte almost staggers in relief at the answer, hoping that the others did not notice her reaction.

“You have asked your allotted questions, Dawnsister. I request that you do not trouble my spirit again, and obey my wishes at the Solstice.”

The corpse once again turns to Faisal.

“Farewell, Faisal. You yet have much to do in this life, and I shall await your return to The Goddess’ arms once you have accomplished your tasks. Protect those you love, and who love you, and you shall be victorious.”

The corpse sags suddenly, like puppet whose strings had been cut. As Faisal steps forward to prevent the body from falling, Deirdre is overwhelmed by tension and revulsion, barely reaching the nearby planter before her stomach once again rebels.

“You know what to do. When I finish my spell, go.”, Ildrim notices the nod as he starts casting.

“Argghhh”, Ildrim feels the spear go in his side and a rough hand reaches out to grab him. The hunchbacked man has pulled him behind the three warriors. He whispers in the wizard’s ear, to softly for the others to hear. Ildrim nods and prays he understood.

Ildrim prepares to cast his spell as he moves back. Just as he is about to turn to find the child and the two women, he sees Armando fall from a spear wound to his head. The little girl scampers back from the opening in the line, her dagger outmatched by the larger men’s weapons.

Deirdre is kneeling on the platform and vomiting, her hands covered in blood. The Oracle is not where the wizard expected, but he quickly notes her body lying to the side, one of the attacker’s spears stabbed cleanly through her chest. As Ildrim steps towards the women and child, he prays, unconvincingly, that the wound is less severe than it appears.

Faisal spots the wizard through the blood coating his face. “Magister! Take the women and child back to Kyonin now, before it is…” His shout ends with a strangled cry as he sees the Oracle’s body crumpled near the elf. His grief and anger is interrupted by a barely blocked strike from the giant dark-skinned priestess he was facing.

The chamber disappears and Ildrim turns to Deirdre even as he prepares to cast again. “You will be safe here, I must return for the others before it is too late.”

Armando lies beside him in a small pool of blood. Ildrim is barely able to pull him out of the way. He begins casting again.

He hears a growling voice, “A few more seconds… Back! Back! Back!”, Faisal, the hunchbacked man and the hound all retreat as one a few paces just in time for Ildrim’s spell to go off.

The spearmen and the gigantic priestess approach. The spearmen lunge forward but their spears bounce off an unseen wall.

“My apologies, there was no room to create the wall when so many people had been in the room. I had to take the ladies to safety first”, Ildrim bows, “Thank you, Samandriel. Your assistance was greatly appreciated.”

“Master”, Samandriel mock bows, “Can I stay to… redeem a few of these fallen followers of Saranrae? If there is one thing I hate more than unjustified faith in the damn gods, it is worshipers professing false devotion.”

Ildrim looks across the invisible wall, mentally counting how many seconds have passed since he cast the spell, then he glances back to Samandriel.

“Just one, choose wisely”, Ildrim casts a spell and Samandriel vanishes, “Now to rejoin the others before the barrier falls.”

Ildrim casts another spell and reaches towards Armando’s body.

They appear in a luxurious room with an overly large bed all in red satin covered in a mountain of pillows which are also spread around the room. Deirdre is holding the girl seated in a chair near the window, both crying.

Faisal rushes to where the Oracle’s body lies, his hands glowing with holy energy as he futilely attempts to repair the damage. He screams in frustration and grabs the corpse into an awkward hug, sobbing.

Samandriel appears with a satisfied expression on his face, “It is done as you stated, Magister.” The apprentice looks about the room. “How did you come to know of this place?”

Ildrim looks up from where the hunchbacked man carries Armando’s body to one of the two couches covered in multiple layers of thick rough cloth, “540 feet north, 410 feet west, 40 feet up. I followed this gentleman’s instructions.”

The servant turns from his examination of Armando, “It seems the spear bashed your man in the side of the head and knocked him unconscious. He will survive. The rest of you should see to your wounds as well.”

Ildrim notices for the first time the large bags filled with medical supplies by the couch and a table set for seven with many covered serving dishes set in the middle.

“Oracle! He has seen!”

The cryptic words of the Oracle’s servant go almost unnoticed as Deirdre cringes from the shouts and chaos of the battle. The young woman is as terrified as she felt when the barbarian undead worshipers attacked her village and killed her husband. Desperately wanting to help Faisal but uncertain what to do, she stands frozen in place while even the child crouches behind Armando, stabbing out at any attackers who venture too close.

Please just make this end!

A spear clatters to the floor in front of the young woman, dropped by a warrior who was unable to avoid one of Faisal’s great swings. Impulsively, she grabs the weapon, an unfamiliar weight awkward in her hands, now sticky with the blood coating the shaft. She stands behind the others, uncertain what to do with the implement or if she can even bring herself to swing.

The Oracle steps back from a stray pike thrust, the back of her beautiful white robe still pristine and perfect, unblemished by the carnage around her. Deirdre feels overwhelmingly dizzy, a sudden wave of nausea and tremulousness passing through her body.

NOW! STRIKE NOW! You cannot hope to compete with her, except as a memory!

The battle seems to slow to a crawl as Deirdre looks from the dark-skinned woman’s back to the spear point and back. The dizziness worsens as she nearly faints from the thoughts bombarding her mind.

He is distracted, no-one will know. He cannot have her, and it will continue to eat at him unless she is gone. You would be proving your love and saving him.

The Oracle slowly turns as Deirdre fights within herself. The exotic woman looks from the acolyte’s face to the spear point and back, a sad smile spreading over her dark lips. The expression of resignation turns to pain as the point of the weapon bites deeply into her chest. She staggers back, turning to fall at the side of dais next to one of the attacker’s bodies.

Time speeds up again, and Deirdre falls to her knees vomiting as Ildrim pops into existence in the midst of the battle.

Ildrim utters the final phrase of the spell, and the mists covering the mirror begin to dissipate, revealing a scene of chaos. The image is centered on a hunched man in white robes, wielding a pair of the curved daggers favored by Qadirans. He stands next to Faisal and Armando, forming a shallow arc in front of Deirdre, the paladin’s student, and a dark-skinned young woman in ornate robes. At least a dozen heavily armed warriors face the trio, stabbing at them with spears as longer pikes thrust in from beyond the spell’s range of vision. The hunched man pauses for a moment, glancing up to seeming look directly at Ildrim through the mirror, before returning his attention to the desperate battle.

Fascinating.

All three men are covered in blood, not all of it their own, judging by several armored bodies crumpled before them. As Idlrim watches, a massive curved blade, apparently wielded by a large feminine hand, arcs into view, driving Armando to his knees. The soldier struggles to his feet as multiple spear points find their mark on the defenders, adding to the growing pool of blood at their feet.

I would estimate their odds at less than four thousand seven hundred twenty eight to one, even with my assistance.

Ildrim stands quickly, pleased that he has been keeping a pair of teleport spells ready for just such an eventuality. Judging that Faisal and his companions can hold out for at least a few moments, the wizard trots back to his nearby quarters to gather what he might need to ensure a successful intervention.

I do hope Faisal and his Oracle realize that I can only save three of them…

“So the poor creature latches itself to the top of Faisal’s head, and he spends the next ten minutes running through the middle of the Great Market, screaming at the top of his lungs, while Majid and I are running behind him yelling ‘Stop Faisal! What is wrong?’ I do not think he has been able to eat anything with tentacles ever since.”

The Oracle’s story dissolves into tears of mirth as Deirdre manages to laugh at the childhood tale, despite her worry and misgivings. The dark-skinned woman’s delightful and entertaining company only serve to heighten the young acolyte’s insecurity.

Friends since childhood? Teenagers in love? Now one of the most important women in the Church of The Sarenrae? How could I possibly compete with such an elegant and beautiful creature? A cold-hearted shrew like Scarlet, yes. But not someone like this…

As her host refills Deirdre’s mint water and her own tea, she gives the younger woman a knowing glance. “So tell me of Faisal now. How fares the stoic feda-ghazi in your cold northern land?”

The acolyte stammers for a moment, flustered by implied intimacy of the question and yet uncertain of the perceived risk in sharing secrets with a truly dangerous rival. She struggles to think of an innocuous incident that would deflect the question, yet not risk her own tenuous hold on the handsome young man. But even as Deirdre begins to speak, the Oracle stiffens into a more rigid posture, her teacup falling to the floor.

“Lust and envy corrupt the purity of a soul unbound”

“The Unquenchable Flame shall not consume what is claimed by The Phoenix”

Deirdre jumps up, crying out in alarm at the sudden change, and reaching for the dark-skinned woman even as she relaxes again, sinking back into her chair. The twisted beggar lurking near the door steps over to clean up the spilled tea and replace the cup while the acolyte stands awkwardly, uncertain what to do.

“Thank you, Majid”, says the Oracle, motioning for Deirdre to sit. “I am sorry to startle you, dear, but The Eternal Light chooses Her own time for expressing my duties. I can only pray that it does not happen at too inopportune a moment. What was the message I relayed?”

Shocked by the other woman’s apparent insight into her dark and jealous thoughts, Deirdre can feel panic rising in her chest.

Does she know about my feelings? My desires? What if she knows what I’ve done? What if she tells him?

Deirdre is about to answer when the door flies open, Faisal bursting in, weapon at the ready. The warrior relaxes as he takes in the scene, and steps out of the doorway, allowing Armando and the feda-talib child to enter.

“You were successful!”, exclaims the Oracle, crossing the room to guide the little girl to a seat. “Greetings, nur’eyni, and welcome. I am so pleased to meet you.”

The girl looks to Faisal, uncertain how to act, but a nod from the man seems to reassure her and she curtsies to the dark-skinned woman, blurting out, “You’re very beautiful!”

The Oracle laughs, “I thank you for your kind words, child. I can see you have learned much from the feda-ghazi.”

A harsher voice from the doorway cuts through the levity in the room, causing all to turn.

“Indeed”, says a dark-skinned priestess as nearly a dozen guards follow her into the Oracle’s chamber. “She has excellent manners and knowledge for a metheq murta-talib.”

Deirdre backs away in fear as Faisal draws his weapon, placing the flaming blade between the newcomers and his friends.

“So you have found your spine after all, Waliyah”, growls the warrior. “But you will find that reclaiming my talib to be more difficult than the isha-ghazi’s first abduction.”

The young man’s determined expression turns to confusion as the priestess laughs mockingly. “You were always a self-righteous fool, brother.”

The Oracle places a hand on Faisal’s shoulder as more heavily armed soldiers can be seen in the corridor behind the newcomers.

“No, Faisal. Your sister is not here to reclaim the child. She has come to kill us and use the crime as an excuse to have the Dawnmother proclaim Tetheyr against your adopted homeland and its Dawnbrethren.”

Ildrim continues to chant quietly before the silver mirror, incense curling toward the ceiling of the scrying chamber. The area provided by the emissary was luxurious compared to the wizard’s workspace in Firenze, outfitted with small conveniences and soundproofed to prevent distractions.

The black hairs lie in a silver bowl before him, intriguing in their anonymity. Who was the donor? The Oracle herself? A servant? Or someone else entirely? Their sender clearly intended for them to be used for scrying, but would their donor comply with the purpose? Did she intend for him to merely observe something of importance? Or to obtain a target location for transport again?

Glancing over at the brief message that accompanied the hair, Ildrim again wonders at the true meaning of the Oracle’s words. His queries about the package confirmed an overland delivery which must have taken weeks from Katheer. Yet the words implied a certain urgency and timeliness of action. Interpreting the highly imprecise edan views of time was always challenging for elves, but the message was even more vague than usual for a short-lived one. Did she intend for him to act at once, expecting an urgent situation? If so, why the slow delivery? And he had not even expected to be in Kyonin when the message would have been dispatched from Katheer.

Shaking his head, Ildrim returns his concentration to the spell, once again marveling that the impatient edan had not yet devised basic scrying magic with a shorter preparation time…