Diffraction

Chapter Ten: The Ghostskin

Devoted ever, I shine on. May Light by men be seen.

Marten spoke in a slow, quiet voice. "I did not want to believe. When they demanded our Arcanist, I had no idea. But then they called for the Ghostskin..."

Lyllithe stared into her father's weary eyes. "I can explain..."

Marten's words came out as a whisper. "What have you done?" His body shook. Whether with anger or fear, Lyllithe could not say.

"Father, I—"

"Devoted of Aulis," he said, spitting the words out like arrows, "under the Light, under oaths of purity, what exactly have you done here?"

She took a deep breath. So this isn't to be a father-daughter discussion then. You want to do this right here, right now. Some of the townsfolk averted their eyes or busied themselves with the wounded. But all other voices ceased.

So be it.

"I did exactly what was required of me."

Marten's face contorted and flushed. "You used magic. When in your lessons did my Devoted teach you this?"

"They did not, of course," Lyllithe said. "It is... discouraged."

"It is forbidden. Ours is the only Order of the seven Aspects of the Divine whose members are granted power regardless whether they possess a Gracemark. That special status calls for some protective measures, including a prohibition against Refocusing and violence."

"And yet my magic—and yes, violence—saved lives tonight, Father. Judge me by the fruit of my deeds, not just your strictures and ideals."

Marten's eyes bugged out. "My strictures? Are they not your own?"

"Sometimes I wonder." Lyllithe glanced at the Abbey. A fire still smoldered in the wooden wall of the structure. She met Marten's gaze, then turned to Bind the energy of the fire, Loosing aqua on the embers that remained. In the relative calm, some of the townsfolk now gasped at the display. Lyllithe ignored them. "You would tell me that this is somehow wrong?"

"The covenant of Aulis tells you that."

"It commands us to remain pure," Lyllithe shot back, "but what does that mean? I saved the Abbey from total destruction, along with many of our people's homes. Is that a sin?"

"You let the Abbey burn," Marten said. "You ignored your duty to heal the wounded, and abandoned your place of worship to the flames when you had this power available to stop it."

"You just told me Refocusing is forbidden," Lyllithe countered. "I pursued the greater good. We can rebuild the Abbey. We can't rebuild our neighbors." She gestured at the Abbey. "I'd rather save them than protect a pile of wood, regardless of its significance."

"I will concede that point, if you concede mine."

"Which is?"

Marten gestured at the burnt bodies in the street. "Your intentions, however noble, do not afford you the right to set men on fire, to sear their flesh from their bones."

"Refocusing is part of my nature, Father. A natural result of my heritage."

Marten frowned. "Yes. And how I wish it were not so. But that fact, both unfortunate and unavoidable, still does not excuse your actions."