Episode 21: Memory, Like a Wakening Beast

Severin Saury chokes back the scream that twists his throat, that hurls him into a consciousness shaped of cold sweat and pounding heart. Disoriented, he sees nothing familiar in the hostile lines of the shadowed world he beholds, in the gnarled limb beside him, the slick leathery sheath wrapped tongue-like around his legs-

Warm flesh brushes against his arm, and strong fingers lock around his wrist. Beside him, Sonia groans in somnolent irritation. "Severin, go back to sleep. It was just a dream."

He is cold, far colder than the pleasant air of the summer night. He looks outside, out through his opened window, out to where the stars, once familiar, gutter like dying candles.

Sonia digs her nails into the inside of his arm. "I want to sleep," she insists. He knows that tomorrow morning she will remember nothing of this, have no explanation for the four semicircular marks pressed into his skin.

He closes his eyes, trying, not for the first time, not for the last, to remember the nightmare.

Through his window, the stars watch, baleful and silent, their light staining his arms - Sonia's chest - everything it touches - a sickly purple, a shade of death.

The City of Ishiki

For the eleventh time, Adriana recounts the story. Hideo listens as she spins out the tale of the flight from the castle, again playing her game of adding more remembered details each time. As she speaks, he recalls her lips at his ear three days ago, whispering, "I will give them anything they want to make them stop asking me about it." He strains to sit up, to shoulder some of her burden, and again the wracking pain in his heart sends him plunging back into darkness.

He awakens to the touch of a cool towel across his forehead, held by a woman's arm at the edge of his fever-blurred vision. For an instant, he cannot place it - it is like his sister's, but he instinctively knows it is not hers. Then, as his eyes focus, he sees that his mother has come at last, and it is she who is daubing the sweat from his brow. The tension drains from his limbs, and he closes his eyes, relaxing into the enfolding comfort of the bed to listen.

Hideo tries to decide if this counts as the twelfth telling, or simply the eleventh restarted. Adriana has already recounted their escape and glossed past the hours they spent alone in the ossuary, with the bones of the ages-dead and the golden light of the Royal Sword as their only companions. He feels a flush of shame as she tells their mother that they searched for a way out together, her generous way of describing her dragging him, her own arm shattered and swollen, through dust-clogged passageways choked with heaps of femurs and tibia. His contribution to the search effort, spitting up blood and staggering in search of something he couldn't even explain, sounds much more heroic in Adriana's retelling.

Kimiko stops Adriana when she comes to their departure from the ossuary. "Couldn't you come back the way you left?"

Hideo senses his sister's gaze upon him. "We talked about that. At first, we didn't want to, in case the killer was waiting for us to return," she says. Her voice is steady as she adds, "But then, after a few hours of being lost, we tried it and it didn't work."

"What do you mean?" his mother asks.

Hideo shudders involuntarily at the memory of using the Sword, his spirit reaching out for an open space only to be diverted, his hand twined with his sister's, into a place formed of solid stone-

"Hideo thinks someone damaged the connection between here and there. We almost got trapped trying to come back. We're guessing it was the killer. It was terrifying, but Hideo guided us out." She moves closer, and he feels the warmth of her hand on his arm. He keeps his eyes shut.

"Oh," answers his mother, sounding suddenly drained. "Well, go on."

Adriana runs her fingers along the length of his forearm. He feels his skin prickle into goose bumps at her touch. "It took a long time, but we found another way out. It dropped us into the lake, as you probably heard. I think my steward here was beside himself when he found out who had suddenly appeared in his lake. I know we frightened a few tourists." Adriana sounds grimly amused; the memory of her standing waist-deep in her gore-caked sleeping kimono, Royal Sword in hand, is something he will carry to his grave. "From there," she presses on, hurrying to the end, "we found a Veiled Guard, who verified my identity and that of the Royal Sword, and they contacted you. I've heard news from the Royal Capital while you were on your way here - about your plans for Aimee, about the army marching south. I think we have much to discuss, mother."

For a moment, the Regent is taken aback by her daughter's change of topic, but Adriana Komaru does not hold the room's monopoly on stubbornness. "Of course, Adry. But first, I have something that might help Hideo...." she trails off, and he can tell she is trying to decide what to do next.

Adriana closes her hand around his wrist and says, "He's awake." His subterfuge penetrated, Hideo opens his eyes, and sees the two women sitting on either side of his sickbed: Adriana, green physician mark twisting around her throat and wrapped, vines and fingers, across the arm that holds his own; Kimiko, exhausted but determined, looking more like his elder sister than his mother every day.

"Hello, mother," he sighs, and feels the familiar pain in his chest that signals another spasm of coughing. He fights it down.

Awkwardly, Kimiko says, "At the Castle of the Sea I found something that may help you." She holds out a ring, offering it to him. It is a twisted piece of metal that wraps around itself, and with but a glance Hideo can tell it pulses with power. "Try it on?"

Hideo looks from Kimiko's worried, hopeful face to Adriana, whose expression is a mirror of her mother's. He swallows, and says, "Okay."

Effortlessly, the ring slips onto his finger.

The coughing fit rising in his lungs subsides instantly.

He feels no trace of illness, nothing save the aches of the last month.

He feels alone, cut off from his sister.

He feels normal.

Half-panicked, he wrenches the ring off his finger. "I-I can't wear this. It's not for me."

Alarm flashes across his mother's face. "What happened? Did it hurt you?"

Hideo shakes his head, and starts to cough. Between fits of coughing, he blurts out, "No. But I can't wear it and be who I am. I can't help Adry with it-"

Kimiko's disappointment and confusion make his heart ache, but before she can speak, Adriana acts decisively. She leans over the bed, catching the ring out of his fingers and then pressing her lips to his own. Her kiss sends a surge of warmth through his body, and his skin tingles where she touches it. Dazed, he can only fumble in surprise as she slides the ring back onto the ring finger of his pinioned hand. When she breaks the kiss, she says, "You help me best just by being here, Hideo." She rises from beside the bed and turns, her golden-brown hair a swirl behind her as she goes. In the hallway, she calls, "Let's go talk, mother. We have a great deal to discuss."

When Kimiko leaves, Hideo studies the ring on his finger for a half an hour.

Then, without regret, he drops it into his chamber pot and turns over, to cough again and then to sleep.

The Hall of Kings

As the Komaru sit and stand in the aisles of the Hall of Kings awaiting the wedding, they do what generations of Komaru have done before: they speak of the kingdom.

Deep on the Komaru side of the hall, a Komaru count sits between his wife and his brother, who is there with his magnificently pregnant Sone wife. After complimenting his sister-in-law on her kimono, the count says to his brother, "Have you heard, Soron? Sana Komaru is engaged! I was astonished to hear it. Isn't that wonderful news?"

Soron frowns at his brother. "I haven't heard that our cousin finds it so, Yashi. From what I hear, an engagement to Theo Bellatrix is not something that sits well with her. She still remembers the Interregnum."

Yashi gestures dismissively, "Ancient history, that. It's a good match. I hear he inherited the Principal Light's county when Kedakai ascended. Isn't Theo also related to Kedakai? That makes young Theo a prominent member of the Bellatrix family. He has a promising future before him, and Sana's lucky to catch him at the start of it."

Soron is unconvinced. "But Sana hates the Bellatrix, Yashi. Surely you could see how that might be a problem for the engagement."

Yashi's answering grin is sly. "Hates them, does she? That's not what I've heard. From what my daughter says, cousin Sana downright propositioned Kedakai to leave the Church and come live with her instead. What do you say to that, Your Excellency?" he chortles, elbowing Soron cheerfully in the ribs.

Soron's frown deepens, "I cannot think of anything that would hurt the Bellatrix family more than Kedakai accepting such an offer. Even its statement embarrasses the Church."

For the first time, Yashi's wife Sayoko enters the conversation. "Soron's right, dear. And if I were Sana, I would be asking myself whom I'd angered to see me engaged so bindingly to someone I so disliked. It seems to me that your cousin has finally crossed the wrong person with that pen of hers," she says with a note of regret. "A woman should have the chance to find happiness in marriage." Surreptitiously, she squeezes her husband's hand.

At that moment, Soron's wife gasps as the child in her womb kicks, sending all concerns about engagements far from her family's mind. But elsewhere, others still whisper.

In the Queen's Antechamber, the mother of the bride stands in the corner fretting while her daughter's dressers finish arranging the layers of shining kimono that adorn her. The mother of the bride has one further companion as well, a Minamet marchessa more than twenty years her junior. As the bride's mother anxiously wrings her hands, the marchessa catches them and gives them an encouraging squeeze. "Your Grace is radiant as always. You have nothing to worry about."

From the center of the room, the bride's enchanting laughter rings out, "Is Mama still fretting, oneesan? I don't know why she's worried. She's already been married!"

The bride's mother flings her hands up in despair, "Oh, Maria, but you hardly know him. And he's a Bellatrix, and twice your age-"

"At least he doesn't look it," Maria giggles. "Besides, Dad was older than you and everything worked out for me!"

The bride's mother sniffles, on the verge of tears, "My darling Maria, how can you laugh? It's your wedding day!"

But laugh she does, "Mama, I can't help laugh! It's all so strange to think about! What else can I do but laugh. In three hours, I'll be a wife!"

Not reassured, the bride's mother begins crying in earnest, and the Minamet marchessa neatly folds her arms around her, reassuring her. "There, there, Mei. There, there, my dear. She's taking it well. You Komaru are strong. Just look at Aimee - when her engagement was announced, everyone thought she would do..." she bites her lip, smiling as she considers possibilities, "well, something. But she's strong, and knows her duty. How can your daughter, who you raised right, do any less?"

One by one, she wipes Mei's tears away, until Maria wrinkles her nose and says, "I hope he at least bathes regularly. I hear the Bellatrix sometimes forget." That fit does not end until the Minamet marchessa threatens to kiss away Mei's tears, turning her lover a shade of red as brilliant as her daughter's wedding kimono. Finally, Maria banishes them both from her room with the abject declaration that she will never stop laughing if they do not go.

As the Minamet marchessa presses through the crowd in the foyer of the Hall of Kings, her silvery laughter distracting the onlookers from her companion's tears, she nearly collides with a pale, tired Komaru duchess. The marchessa does a double take before bowing deeply to the duchess. Baffled, the Komaru duchess bows back before the marchessa, her smile impish, drags Mei off to a private alcove to repair her makeup.

The Komaru duchess watches them go, and murmurs to herself, "What was that about?"

She feels fingertips trace the sleeve of her kimono, and turns to find that she is standing next to a darkly beautiful Sone baroness. "Why, can't you guess, Midoko? Nene is honoring you on your husband's behalf. Even though the Church has lifted her family's Interdiction, she appreciates your husband's efforts to support solidarity between her family and his."

Midoko blanches. "I don't know what you mean, Arabelle." But she looks away, and Arabelle knows she has heard the rumors.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. Can you tell me you've never been tempted to do the same?" She holds up her hands, displaying her perfectly manicured blood-red nails. "Wrap your hands around one's scrawny, sanctimonious little neck and just squeeze until their skin turns blue and their eyes bulge out of their face? I can think of few things more satisfying-"

Midoko, pale before, turns white as driven snow. "I'm sure there's another explanation. I cannot believe my husband would simply murder a Radiance of the Church of Inner Light in cold blood. Cole is not a monster."

Around Midoko, the nobles of Komaru city start at her words, and several draw away from her in sudden fear. Arabelle moves closer, practically purring. "No, Midoko, he's a hero, and you should be sure to welcome him as one when you see him. I'm very proud of him, and I'm sure I'm not the only one." Midoko has started shaking, but Arabelle is unrelenting, and catches Midoko's sleeve in her hand so she cannot flee. "In fact, I've heard he's holed up in that Bellatrix castle he sacked with Melisande Sone. Have you heard that she seeks a father for another round of children? I've heard she prefers men just like your husband - if I were you, I would make certain I was welcoming my dear husband personally as soon as possible--"

"Arabelle, that's enough." The voice is new, that of a handsome Touraine marquis who has risen from where he sat with a group of young Komaru. "She can no more travel in her condition than you could. Be kind."

Arabelle turns quickly, releasing Midoko's sleeve, her eyes narrowed. "Don't presume-" When she sees who has accosted her, her tight-lipped glare vanishes instantly, replaced by a seductive smile. "Ah, it's you, Your Grace." She taps him in the chest with a fingernail. "You shouldn't interrupt me like that. You're lucky I like you as well as I do."

The corners of the Touraine marquis' lips quirk into a faint smile. "My good fortune on that account lets me begin every morning with enthusiasm, my lady." He turns to Midoko, offering her his arm. "Your Grace, may I have the honor of assisting you to your seat? You look magnificent this morning, and I am ashamed that I am the first gentleman to offer to assist you."

Arabelle arches an eyebrow at the Touraine marquis in amusement, and turns back to Midoko to give her an examining look. What she sees transforms her expression into delight, and she declares, "My dear, marriage must be dulling my senses! Congratulations to you and your fortunate father, whomever he might be. Your second, correct? Lend me your other arm, Jade. It's not appropriate for a married woman to be unescorted at a time like this."

Midoko, exhausted, hesitates for a moment before accepting Jade Touraine's offered arm, then murmurs, "Thank you for your kindness."

Arabelle wastes no more than a moment before beginning a shocking recounting of her most recent pregnancy, but still Midoko sees Jade smile for her and whisper, "No. Thank you." She looks down to the marble floor of the Hall of Kings, thinking to herself that the shelter of a solid bench beneath her cannot come too soon.

As the trio drift out of sight, the circle of young Komaru stops watching them. Finally, one of their number grits her teeth and says, "I really hate her. Arabelle Sone, I mean."

Another, a young man with stylish hair, chuckles. "Jealous, Elise?"

Elise rounds on the youth, "No, Jules, I'm not jealous!"

The youngest of the party, scarcely more than a boy, says, "Then why are you blushing?"

Elise's face flushes scarlet, and she exclaims, "Arima!" The rest of the circle begins laughing, and soon Elise joins in. "Okay, okay. He's so beautiful, though! Every time I see him I want to kiss him!"

A third boy, the eldest at twenty and serious of mien, shakes his head. "I wouldn't, Elise, if I were you. You've heard how he treated Seraphine. It's a wonder the Touraine aren't at war with us, between what he did and what she did, interfering with your brother's engagement plans. I swear, if something isn't done soon, the Touraine will send the Mer to drown all of us."

Elise yawns dramatically. "Swearing to the Code of Blood doesn't make you important or smart, Jarrett. Particularly when we all know why you really did it. A chance to spend some time with a certain pretty young Secretary, hmm?"

Jarrett flushes, "Leave Lady Suisei out of this, Elise."

Elise giggles, "I think I've made my point about 'Lady Suisei' clear enough. Anyway, I think Aleron might actually fancy Seraphine - after Zoe left him, I didn't think it would ever happen again. Besides, I hear Pleasance is an old hag. Aleron's better off without her."

The last of the party, the only Sone lady among their number and by far the eldest of the group, smiles grimly and says, "Actually, she's astonishingly beautiful, with hair like spun copper and eyes like sapphires. But when she looks at you, you have the sense she's not really seeing you."

Three of the Komaru fall silent, but Jules leans close to the Sone and embraces her. "You love her better than me, Liessa!" Arima blushes as he sees Jules' hand slip into her kimono, beneath her breast; the other Komaru gracefully pretend not to notice.

Liessa deftly catches Jules' hand and pushes it away. "You know that's not true, Jules. You occupy a special place in my heart."

Jules eyes her mischievously and playfully reaches for her again, "You mean right there?"

Before he can grope her, Jarrett clears his throat and says, "So, did you see the dozen new nobles at the Cat last night? I wonder what brought them to Komaru City from the countryside?"

Jules, successfully distracted from his amorous endeavors, says, "I know! I talked to one, a Touraine boy - I forget his name, no one important. It's the magistrates. They're patrolling the villages and chasing off nobles from them. I think they've declared war on primula veris. What a farce that is!"

Jules laughs, but Arima raises his voice in a question, "But that's good, right?"

Jules begins to taunt Arima, but Jarrett cuts him off. "It's good and bad, Arima. In some cases, it's a blessing of protection. But in others, well - when you're the son or daughter of a baron of no bloodline, you don't really have the chance to leave home to find an engagement. Your parents need you there to run the manor, and you aren't important enough that anyone else will send their sons or daughters out to marry you. If you're lucky, you can marry the heir to a neighboring barony. But once those heirs run out, the only option a fifth son has is finding a peasant girl to be his bride. The magistrates, well - they make that much harder. I heard my mother speaking with Romana Komaru the other night - apparently the barons and viscounts are suffering because their children feel singled out for crimes most have never committed. We're lucky to be in the capital, not out there. I know there have already been fights, and Her Grace Romana said someone had been killed."

Arima opens his mouth to begin to ask another question, but just then a fanfare sounds from the Hall of Kings. Elise beams, and says, "C'mon, we've got to go find a place to stand inside. You two can finish babbling about boring politics over the tile tables tonight. It's time to go watch a wedding!"

Quickly, the five Komaran youth rise and file into the galleries of the Hall of Kings, there to watch the wedding of His Excellency Athel Bellatrix, Count of Evremont, to Her Excellency Maria Komaru, Countess of Minaval.

The Shielder Mountains

"Wake up, Ricard. Something's happening."

Ricard Yuasa snaps awake instantly, the benefit of seven years of experience as a ranger. The night sky is starry, but an unnatural yellowish light plays across the features of the woman who has awoken him. He slides fluidly out of his sleeping roll, instinctively collecting his sword and pistol. "What's wrong, Jana?"

"Look," says the older ranger, pointing in the direction of the subject of their observation. "It's lit up."

When the score of rangers first arrived at the 'monastery' seven months ago, they expected to be impressed. But on their arrival, they were even more astonished to discover how it had changed. They had all heard the stories of how their enemies had raised a hundred foot tall tower of stone from the earth in under an hour- Dante Yuasa's report had prepared them for the second tower, but not for the filaments of stone that reached from one tower to another, weaving them together like great gray spider threads three times as thick as a man is tall. They had sent back a report of the activity at once, but before word came back from Alban, the web between the two towers had tripled in complexity, forming a net of fifteen tangled strands.

After building their lean-to on the far face of the valley cliffs, Jana's team of rangers spent a month debating the meaning of the growth. Over their meals of mountain game and spring water, Bennet had even gone so far as to propose that the threads might be there to allow the fortresses to combine the infamous glowing shields that had stymied several Komaran generals. None of the Yuasa had imagined that his theory would be proven correct so swiftly.

When Ricard looks across the valley, he sees that the dual fortress is surrounded by a double hemisphere of glowing golden latticework, a bright figure-eight of light that slides and whirls in the air as he watches. Beside him, Bennet emerges from his corner of the lean-to, his skin turned Touraine gold in the eerie light. As Bennet whistles in awe, Ricard whispers, "Looks like you were right."

Jana, watching the fortress through her spyglass, murmurs, "There's movement around the base of the fortress. I can't tell what it is, but there's a lot of it. I'd guess it's an army, but I don't know how-By the Light!"

Ricard doesn't need a spyglass to see what caused her exclamation. Something dark and sinuous has blotted out the lower rim of one half of the figure-eight. Bennet soundlessly moves over to Jana's side and urgently asks, "What is that thing?"

The obstruction lifts higher into the air, twisting around the circumference of the golden shield as if seeking purchase. Ricard estimates its width as he watches it, and guesses it to be at least fifteen feet thick, if not twenty. It coils around behind the fortress, beyond his field of vision, and forty seconds later a bright flash of golden light floods the valley.

Jana gasps, "It's trying to cut between the spheres.... It's succeeding. Shadow of the Cosmos, what is that thing? It must be a quarter-mile long--"

Ricard can see glints of light now on the ground around the fortress. It is unmistakably an army. He hisses sharply to get Jana's attention. "We need to move, lieutenant. We have no assurances that these new guests will be as disinterested in us as the masked folk are."

Jana collapses the spyglass and nods, "You're right, sergeant. Let's move."

The light from the fortress is both a blessing and a curse to the three rangers as they climb the mountain to higher ground and better cover. Bennet speaks at one point to wonder if the other watch posts are seeing anything different, but Jana hushes him. Privately, Ricard wonders at the necessity; the battle, or whatever it is, is no longer silent. A slow hissing susurrus is building around them, its echoes thrown from one mountain face to another.

Finally, out of breath from the hurried climb, the trio stops to crouch in the high fringe of a bare patch of rock with a sweeping view of the valley. What they see next makes them gasp yet again.

The great coil has cleaved the two fortresses apart, and now wraps thrice about the hemisphere of the newer fortress. Beneath it, the glowing latticework shudders and writhes, while the second half is dim and smaller than it once was. Jana, spyglass in hand, says, "The coil appears to have sheared right through the interconnecting net. I can see the net's broken filaments extending from the older tower. There's movement along the surface of the coil as well, on top. It's so fast that I can't make it out as anything but streaks, though. They're all going up to the top-oh!"

With a blinding flash, the golden shield shatters beneath the constricting coil. Ricard blinks as the light destroys his night vision, and moments later a rush of dry rustling sounds echo around him, a hauntingly familiar noise that twists his stomach into a sickening knot of fear. When the noise subsides and his vision returns, he can see the black outline of the coil bound directly around the cylinder of the newer tower, and hear the distant clash of steel against steel.

"Jana, what do you see?" he asks nervously, suddenly aware of the cold night wind against his skin.

The ranger lieutenant, slouched in the bushes, does not answer. Ricard sees that she is not even looking through the spyglass.

Bennet notices the same thing, "If you're not going to look, let me-"

"Wait," hisses Ricard urgently. "Something's wrong." He draws his sword, and creeps closer to Jana.

Five feet away, he can smell the stink of blood. Three feet, and he can see the way her neck lolls forward against her chest, the dark bib spreading down her chest. Adrenaline surges through his blood, and he draws his pistol with his free hand. "Bennet-"

There is a sudden rustling noise behind him, and the other ranger grunts and stumbles against him, his weight knocking Ricard off his feet and nearly down the bare face of the cliff. "Damn it," he curses, dropping the pistol as he catches himself. "What are you-"

Face-first, Bennet collapses limply to the ground. His head snaps back before it hits, twisting to one side. A long, feathered shaft protrudes from Bennet's right eye. Ricard can see blood welling on his back from a terrible gouge along his spine.

Ricard feels numb. He spins in place, sword held before him. "Come out," he demands. "Show yourself."

The rustling sound is behind him, and he whirls. He is not fast enough, not even remotely prepared for what towers over him, half again his height, the cold metal of its spear blade pressed against his throat.

He beholds the naked torso of a giant, the spear gripped two-handed before it. Its eyes glow faintly blue, and its sharpened teeth are bared. From above him, the giant speaks, "Smart enough to speak, yes? Then smart enough to carry a message."

Ricard feels something cold and scaly wrap around his ankle. His arm is limp, and he can scarcely feel his sword to use it. He whispers hoarsely, "The Naga have returned."

The creature grins at him, showing its fangs. "Wise one. Yes. Tell your masters that. Tell them that We remember their crimes against Our kind. Tell them to prepare themselves. You will be Our herald, wise one, and no harm will come to you."

"I won't-"

The Naga rears back, fifteen feet or more into the sky. Ricard stumbles as its tail jerks his leg out from beneath him and pulls him down. Its spear comes hurling towards his heart, a bolt of death from the sky-

"I will, I will!" He shrieks it at the monster.

"Good," the Naga beams. "Go now. Do not look back."

There is a sibilant whisper, and Ricard finds himself alone with two corpses.

From across the valley, there is a sharp crack, and then a rumble like thunder, a rumble like a hundred tons of stone crashing down into the earth.

By the feeble light of the last shield, Ricard can see that there is only one tower now, and as he watches, something vast and serpentine stirs to wind itself around it.

The City of Sunrise

Four things can bring down even the mightiest of mountains: rain, wind, time, and paperwork.

Sophia Bellatrix, newly appointed Numina of the Banner of the Sun, wryly considers this as she repeatedly picks up and drops the box of messages that met her upon her arrival at Sunrise. She lifts it high enough to examine its bottom, and counts the sticky smears on it. So far, her paperwork has been responsible for six large roaches' ascension to the Light.

She spots a seventh, and deliberately drops the box on it. With a wet crunch, the insect splatters beneath its weight. She imagines her students would be appalled to see her acting so brutally, but roaches, unlike heretics and heathens, have never struck her as deserving a chance to repent their malevolent and abominable existence.

Three minutes later, she decides that, like heretics, the roaches have all learned to hide from her. Lacking any further distraction, she clears a place on her shabby desk, lights the wick of her shabby lamp, sinks into her shabby writing chair, and begins spreading out her paperwork. When she arrived in Sunrise, the Minamet factor led her to the dingiest, most disreputable building in the noble quarter. At her request for something slightly more well-lit, he had shrugged and said, "We would have to evict someone else, and I don't see that you'll be here long enough for that to be necessary, begging Your Holiness's pardon."

Patience had seen her through... at least until she found her mail, and the cockroaches.

After half an hour's work, she has sorted the mail out into several discrete stacks, which she begins opening. The largest stack is, of course, Matters Pertaining to the East. The first letter is, predictably, a panicked request for military support against the Aten raiders in the East. She puzzles over it for ten minutes, frustrated that she has never taken the time to learn the ways of generals. Finally, she gives up, setting it aside and making a note to ask Luminance Angelus for his opinion on the request.

Then, with genuine sorrow, she reviews her copy of Thierry Smith's letter declaring his decision to break from the Church of Inner Light. If he hoped to win the support of the Church's Expansionist faction, she reflects, he could have done his homework better: three letters down, she finds Michael Leon's letter to the Numinous Council and Principal Light, declaring the Expansionists' disgust with the leadership the present Principal Light offers, and their choice to serve the Light free of the corruption and weakness the Church in Prophet's Hope represents. She finds it fascinating that Leon singles out Smith as one of the specific enemies of his faction, and does not doubt that has much to do with Smith's decision to remove the peasants under his care from the East before they suffered any further injury at the hands of their enemies. She reckons that Smith's decision to move away from both the orthodox Church and the Expansionists may have single-handedly destroyed the Expansionists as surely as they destroyed his position as a Numinous.

Two letters down, she finds Luminance Angelus' personal declaration that he cannot in good conscience remain with the Church of Inner Light, along with an exhortation that she examine her own beliefs and ask herself if Kedakai is truly the right man to represent the Church.

She sets the letter down and covers her face in frustration. It lasts only a moment, but it is enough to start her thinking. So far, Kedakai has not betrayed her hopes for him: she applauded his decision to lift the Minamet Interdiction, and coincidentally personally benefited from it through her appointment as a Numina and emissary to the Minamet lands. But she knows both the Hawks and Risa Kamry's occult-mad allies are growing impatient with Kedakai's refusal to favor one's policies over the other, and knows that he can only please both for a little while longer. As to the Expansionists' split from the Church, it grieves her, but she knows there is only so much to be done: threats could only keep them in a Church they have moved so far away from for so long.

No, she reflects, the worst failure she can accuse Kedakai of is abandoning the peasants in the East. With the Church making no effort to defend or relocate them, she can only imagine how much innocent blood will soon stain the hem of the Principal Light's robes. She sighs, and begins penning the letter of her answer to Angelus, tendering her sympathies and her regrets.

As she finishes, there is a knock on her door. "Come in," she calls, wishing her office possessed a proper reception room. To her surprise, she does not recognize the striking middle-aged woman whom her servant leads into the room. The servant, a veteran of her years in the North, says, "Your Holiness, a visitor to see you. She would not give her name, but she has papers from the Duchess of Inazuma."

The woman, silhouetted by the descending sun that shines through the doorway, bows gracefully, "Your Holiness, pardon my intrusion, but I had heard of your arrival in the city and wished to meet you in person as soon as I could. Since we are to be each other's greatest enemies for some time to come, it only seemed polite."

Sophia is taken aback, but only for an instant. Her servant has his hand on the sword at his belt, and she thanks herself that at least she has experienced men with her. Thinking about the North stirs a distant memory, and she gives the woman a more intense examination. "Ah. I think that perhaps-"

The woman spreads her arms, "Please."

Sophia gestures to her servant, who expertly pats the woman down and finds no weapons. At his nod, Sophia says, "So, my lady, how should we proceed?"

The woman smiles, and Sophia starts again as she realizes that she has seen the woman before. She searches her memory to remember where. Meanwhile, the woman answers her, " You understand that I am only here because of your reputation for fairness, but based upon that I could not deny myself the chance to meet. But I feel it would be most productive were we to speak in private. Would you be amenable?"

Sophia nods her head, and with a curt motion of her hand sends her servant to guard the door. "I find that fair, my lady. But please, you have me at a disadvantage. How shall I address you?"

But as the door shuts and blocks the sunlight away, Sophia realizes she already knows the answer.

Her violet eyes made bright by the glow of the shabby lamp, the woman meets Sophia's gaze unflinchingly and says, "My name is Violaine Asawa."

It is the 229th year since Paraceln's Dream. In the sky, the stars shine. In the capital, the nobles celebrate and children are merry. But for every step they dance, some long-forgotten memory rouses itself towards wakefulness.