Diffraction

Interlude - Vaerandir

A cool breeze blew through the Sky Quarter of Aulivar—so named for the pale skin of its predominantly Aeramental residents—sweeping away the odor of nearby stables and the fumes of the smithies. Smoke of chimneys billowed up in columns only pierced by the silvery shine of the brightest of the starry host. Light music of stringed instruments came from the Feytripper's Smile, an inn known for the best wine in the City.

The Temple of Veredhel, the Aspect of Eternity stood across from the Varonen Field, a verdant oasis set in the midst of a desert of stone and brick for the comfort of Aeramentals and others in tune with nature.

On other days, the contrast between the single story Temple and the proud belltower of the Abbey would have held Vaerandir's attention. Where the Abbey reached into the heavens, focused on the light of the sun in the sky, the decorations of the Temple celebrated the beauty and variety of life on surface. Rows of carved pillars made of sungwood from nearby Calmen lined the front of the structure, depicting various species of trees and members of the goodly races. The sanctuary itself was a circular chamber in the center of the rectangular building, with a grand crystal dome, barely visible from below. Worshipers enjoyed a clear view of the stars by night, when most ceremonies honoring Veredhel took place.

Vaerandir felt no peace as he entered the sanctuary, and found no enjoyment in the display of starlight. Pressing matters dominated his thoughts. Telan's moonlight touched his pale skin and provided a soft glow. He strode to the center of the chamber and looked heavenward.

A young Aeramental serving as night minister polished the benches—crafted from more Calmen sungwood—at the far right of the hall. The sanctuary otherwise stood empty and silent.

"I would ask once more," Vaerandir said as if to himself, "consider carefully this path."

The woman ignored him and pointedly focused on her task, working a shine into each sungwood bench in turn. The Temple remained open to supplicants at all hours, and its servants were trained to protect the privacy of worshipers.

A moment passed, and Vaerandir sighed. "I want to tell them. I do not feel it is wise to withhold information. Nor do I feel I have been fully honest."

He glanced at the night minister. Her pattern among the benches shifted, bringing her closer to the center of the sanctuary. They've been trained. But that doesn't cure a person of curiosity.

A strange thought struck him. "No, of course I cannot—will not—reveal that. I refer to what I could tell them of the future, and the foes they shall face."

The squeak of polish on wood slowed considerably. Vaerandir ignored that for now.

"I'm desperate. Allow me this, at least." He cocked his head, then shook it vigorously. "These people walked that path already, and paid a price for their ignorance. I question why that price should be paid once more."

An inner voice warned him to mind his tone. And the woman's efforts stopped completely. He could see her in the corner of his vision. She held the rag to a bench, but stared. But he pushed those thoughts aside. "I disagree," he declared. "Without some provision of insight, some greater understanding, I cannot accept this."

The minister gasped. I know, Vaerandir thought, how dare someone address an Aspect of the Divine with such familiarity? He sighed. I'll have to do something about this before I leave.

Vaerandir's voice rose in accusation. "What of the blood spilled? What of the lives cut short? Did they not purchase some measure of peace against this day? Were they in vain?"

He pointed a finger at the stars. "We have been through this before and triumphed! Why should they now be made to suffer without revelation or understanding? What good will it do?"

The Aeramental paused, but not to listen. With a deep breath, he unleashed his fury. "Have I been misled? Have I misunderstood You all along? Have I never known You in all these years? Or have you become as the Gaurephalin of the east see You? Are you now wroth with all who live, whose innocent blood alone can slake Your great thirst and stave off Your judgment?"

Searing pain coursed through his form, and he fell to his knees under a crushing weight. Bent to the ground, he nodded. "I do speak too freely, yes." The words came out in a hiss as his body suffered. "But I also speak truly. I shall abide by Your decision—I will say no more to them than You permit."

The pain subsided. Vaerandir forced himself first to one knee, then rose to both feet with great effort. "Yet this I cannot say with certainty: Who You all have become. But I stand in this sacred place and fear I deem rightly what quality of beings You are no longer. I shall not return unless proven wrong." Emotions surged within him. I will say my peace even at risk of further discipline. If You will not act worthy of honor, then I shall give none.

He looked up to the stars. "I am done with You."

Vaerandir spun so abruptly that the night minister had no chance to react. He caught her gaze, watching him, eyes wild with fear and confusion.

"I—you—master, I did not mean to overhear," she stammered.

"Yes, you did." He waved a hand, cleansing her memories with Divine power. She began polishing once more, temporarily oblivious to anything but the benches.

"You have a dubious honor," he told her, though she ignored him. "You're the last person in this Light-veiled City to see Vaerandir the Bloodhound, agent of the Lord Mayor and Avatar of Eternity."

It felt good to tell someone, even if she'd remember nothing of the encounter.

Vaerandir marched out of the sanctuary, slamming doors behind him.

My path—and that of all of us, if there remains any hope—lies ahead.

Hedid not spare the Temple so much as a glance as he vanished into the night.