The TwiceBorn

A Bright Light In A Dim World

"But when she feels it taking hold...Finds it so hard lettin' go...How can I tell her that we'll shine?...She dreads the devils yet to show"--Dermot Kennedy

Was she meant to be here?

Maybe she was but she didn't think in quite the way JoHan thought she might be. It was all so confusing. She closed her eyes, wishing that when she opened them, everything before her would be gone and she'd be back with Alora, sitting around a campfire and feeling...what?

Feeling loved.

She resisted the urge to shake JoHan's hand from her shoulder.

"Brother, it's time to go. The shadows grow long." She dimly heard one of the robed figures say. She slowly looked up and saw the tavern patrons watching her and the robed figures with open hostility.

JoHan glanced up as well.

"Islinn,it's time to go." She caught a slight tremor in his voice.

He's afraid

Which struck her as odd. When you believed...truly believed...like she had, there was no room for fear. You walked with Brede and all uncertainties fell away.

Walk the unknown with what is known and believed, Brede shall take the faithful step by step and there shall be no fear.

Sacred Writ, Canon 9, of Brede's Conspectus. And why all of this was thrusting itself first and foremost into her thoughts, she didn't know. Maybe there was some grandiose reason, a forewarning of things to come, but again, she was a simple person. All she knew were the Sentinels of Rogue's Refuge were afraid. And she didn't want to go with them. But she had little choice. She looked at the faces of the tavern goers and saw pure, unadulterated hatred for her as well as the Sentinels of which she was now a part of once again.

Behind a taut shoulder, she saw Ryleen still staring at her. The serving wench's eyes widened comically when she realized she'd been picked out of the crowd. Islinn watched, with a sad smile, as the woman spit on the floor and raised her fist to her forehead to ward off evil.

Behind her, they all thought she was some kind of prophet, someone chosen by Brede and in front of her she was "the devil's whore." Never had she experienced the lines of good and evil being so neatly drawn.

But right now, the scariest thing she could think of wasn't dying...it was living. Again, that odd sense of freedom stole over her, the one she'd had when Aubery had been so afraid of whatever had been roaming in the night. She believed that Brede never would have allowed her to feel Alora's love and see the good in her if this was the bitter end it all came down to.

There had to be...more.

"Islinn...it's time to go." JoHan repeated and again, she caught that quick note of fear.

JoHan's hand slipped from her shoulder to slide down into her armpit and pull her to her feet. She stood but couldn't straighten all the way up. Her stomach flared in sudden agony. JoHan glanced at her then waved a hand at one of the robed figures nearby.