* * *
Camden
* * *
Cade Fayegeaux is not very happy with me right now, which implies I've done something right this morning. Jenny and I watch him glower in his cell, too angry to speak to either of us right now. Jenny's seated on the stool now as I lean against the wall. Soon enough I suppose we'll switch. The plan is that we'll both stay well-rested and keep both pairs of our eyes on Cade at all times. He's slipped away from guards before by distracting them or making himself seem beneath notice. We won't ignore him.
It's quite interesting that Jenny and I both came to act under this plan without discussing it at all. In fact, this very morning we both walked to this cell with no explanation whatsoever for what motivated us to do so. I'd question it, but I know that both of us are keenly attuned to our sense of Duty. That is enough.
I am very concerned about Katherine, and I know Jenny must be. We haven't talked about her, though. We've exchanged very few words at all today. Maybe we don't need to, yet.
How could she die, though? Katherine? I suppose I ask that question every time she bites it, but she's not exactly in a war zone, now is she? She's been near the Palace at all times. It just doesn't make sense, and I want to know what's going on--
A ripple of thought traces across my mind, and it's not my own. I jerk a little. Jenny sits up at attention - she of all people would know the aura of Jhe h'Akribastes.
We are taking care of it.
I nod, then mentally curse myself for showing an external response. If he's working on things now, it explains why neither I nor Jenny felt the need to do anything else other than what we did. And, since the necessary measures are being taken now, an explanation will be in order later.
We need defenses to be in order now, Peacekeeper.
I keep my eyes on Cade. I'm seeing to that right now. Once you're finished, we'll have a Trial to set in motion.
The response is the impression of an eyebrow raising, and for a moment I'm not looking through my own eyes. Or rather, someone else is. Then I regain my own sight.
The Judge sounds mildly amused. More abrupt than I initially thought, but I see no reason why not. There's a pause. There is no other danger you see fit to prepare against, then?
No, I say, none worth guarding against. The enemy has made its most severe move. Attacking now would be foolish - we're obviously already on alert. Besides, there's the conflict in the Aurocan Palace to divide their resources. I see no reason to disrupt life as normal. It may prove to lend us strength. What I don't say is that my hunch is motivated largely by senses that are usually attributed to Poets. I don't deny that I am one, but it's a detail that tends to cut down on credibility with the Judge as of late. Besides, my analysis is sound on its own.
Right. Then, nothing. I imagine he's very busy right now.
* * *
'Sy
* * *
I suppose I could explain where I am right now, but that would give away too much. We don't do this in a place of absolute secrecy just to keep the process from being discovered. We keep the place secret because the place itself is a part of this process. I can say that it, or at least the entrance to it, is somewhere in the Palace's most secluded and warded confines, and that is all you will know.
Besides, it is improper to tell too much of this ritual. It is holy. Perhaps it could also be that I am uncomfortable with talking about it. Tia, the Lady of the Void, would have much to say about that.
"Now that I am mentioned, I find it prudent to point out that I see nothing of Katharin-toa'rhian-to'----' inside me." Tia steps forward, her casual teasing gone from her usual tone with me. We all flinch at that pronunciation of Katharine's name, which is all too obviously missing parts of it. Destroyed so thoroughly that even bits of her full name can't be said in this place... I have trouble believing it, but we cannot tell lies in here. "...I expect, then, that something has been brought, for I can give you no aid today. There is nothing left of her for me to return to you." Does her voice contain the slightest tinge of worry at that prospect?
"There is something left of her." Luciprochoros steps forward, resplendent, but with no circlet. It's so strange to see his hair completely down, to see him in that old, ancient set of robes. Chetharian lines and trim, not Radian, though the two have their similarities. They're more stark than Radian clothing, and every cut and seam echoes the ancient duties and traditions. I, too, am wearing the garb of the olden days. I don't like to think of it, just as I don't like to think of the bindings that strap the sandals to my feet. The robes, and the sandals, I can no longer call my own.
But in this place, this most secret of places, my brother and I are different. Perhaps you could call us more brothers now than ever, for we're the closest we will ever be to what we were at our original creation. I hate this place so much, I think, for making me remember what it was like in those days.
You always hate change, Diyn whispers between my ears. His voice is different now. Deeper. Closer to mine, but also closer to... someone else's. I would anger over it, but it defines you, that hatred of change. And it, too, has always had its uses.
Can I even call him Diyn, in this space? Or is he really...
No. Don't think about that now. Especially now. I wonder if I'm the only one with this problem. Luciprochoros (That's not his name in this place, not his proper one...) never shows a shred of discomfort from it. But then, how much has he really changed, since the old days? Other than the fact that he no longer eats meat now, I think the only distinguishing difference is that he never ceases to smell of coffee.
Tia takes no form expect for shadows, but I can feel her stand beside me, looking over me, smiling. "Arik'tighesynnodai-theoni," she whispers into my ear, her hand brushing my arm. My hackles rise, but I say nothing. She turns to Luciprochoros. "Lu-i-si'vrahn-prochoros-otheosil," she intones, holding out her hand, "show me the sign of the passing of Katharin-toa'rhian-to'----'."
My brother bows to the mother of two of my daughters, then straightens from the bow, crooking his arm at his waist, cradling something. In a smooth motion, he sweeps his hand out to Tia. Cupped in it is a small round bowl filled with what amounts to almost two tablespoons of blood. "There is very little, but what is there is fresh."
The shadows of Tia's face ripple into a frown, her dark brow creasing. "That is all? But I have nothing. Nothing. Where did the rest of her go?"
Luciprochoros shakes his head. "That, my Lady Tighe-Ma'at-seh'vrahn-'Eoni, is a mystery to solve in another place and another time entirely. We have what is here, and it will suffice." He shows no doubt on his face, and neither do I. We keep our worries inside right now.
"Very well." Tia takes the small dish in a motion that speaks of easy grace, then turns and begins to walk away. "Follow me. I will show you where I keep it now."
"Slowly, please," says a faint voice.
Tia turns back to face it, and then looks alarmed. "Why you, Jhe h'Logos?" A ripple of ire trickles through me. In this most sacred of spaces, where she refuses to use naught but my brother and I's true names, she accords him his title?
"I am naught but Eleth-travente now, my Lady Tighe-Ma'at-seh'vrahn-'Eoni, but I do stand as Audiva Rocale's Regent, as the heirship rests with me." Elete slowly makes his way to my side. He's limping a bit. I can't restrain my worry for him. It's so strange to look upon him right now, to look at his head bare of a crown. Without it, he looks so much shorter than me. He's also dressed plainly for the first time in years, wearing nothing else of decoration, rank, or status but a signet ring that he avoids bearing openly in day-to-day life. I am sure he keeps it on him at all times, of course, but he disdains publicly showing the mark of Xaillyndesse heirship. Sometimes I am surprised he never gave the ring back to Ebrellin-i. Right now, I am thankful that he kept it. "My brother is unable to attend to the duties of the Treaty this time. I shall suffice, I expect?"
Tia's lips part into a grin. "You shall always more than suffice, Elethe-travente Xaillyndesse. Please, follow me at your own pace." Tia resumes the procession slowly.
Luciprochoros walks on the other side of Elete, his back straight and his jaw held tense. He objected to Elete's presence here earlier. I must admit, I am even more worried for Elete's health as more time passes. Elete looks weak, even in this place where life becomes so strong. Stripped of his kingly robes and rank-symbols, it's even more obvious how much weight he's lost, how frail he's become. Despite all that, he holds his chin up high and ignores our concern, just like always.
The procession stops in a place that seems no different than the rest of this empty void. With a turn of my head, everything changes. There now are walls around us. They are ivory colored, gilt designs of sunbursts spreading across them, up to the ceiling, and down to the marble floor. The ceiling would have a similar sunburst on it, but the center of it opens into an empty circle which reveals the void outside - and a light from far beyond where human eyes could reach. Even mine have trouble beholding it over the great distance, as if it were the faintest of stars. In the middle of the chamber is an altar, similarly decorated. It changes each time we do this, as does the room at times. This time the altar is adorned with a large golden bowl.
Tia's golden eyes trace back to me as she turns. My attention is drawn to the dish of blood that she holds. She motions for me to step forward. After I do, she hands me the small dish. I feel in my hand, for the second time, the faint weight of all that is left of Katherine, our treaty, my Advocate. My lover and, through this world's genetic standards, my niece. My sparring partner in all things.
I feel all of these things running through the blood, the memories and thoughts and the weight of her upon me, and I cry. Every time this happens, for every one that I come here to contest for, I cry. Tia beholds my tears, takes my chin, and tugs it toward the altar. Tears drip onto the altar and evaporate before they can quite touch the surface of it. This happens every time I come here.
I hate this place. So much.
She pulls me into an embrace then, allowing me to bury my face into her shoulder. Her hand tips mine, allowing the blood to pour into the bowl. I always forget that she is taller than me. This, too, is something that I regret happens every time I come here. There's some consolation, some weight off of my chest--
I've lost so much.
It is perfectly okay, my dear Arik'tighesinnodai-theoni, and then she pushes me away from her to stand upright again, my tears all dried on the black fabric of her night-dress, for you to feel pain from change. She turns my head so that I am facing the end of the altar. There is enough space there, just enough, for something to lie there. Something very small. Now, you can feel joy from it.
There is something there, something very small. A faint and glowing whisper of soul. Something in my chest jumps at the sight of it. I am always afraid that I will have to mourn in this place. Sometimes that is all I have in this place, because nothing appears on the altar no matter what we do. Sometimes, for whatever reason, what we bring isn't enough. It's too little, or too old, or impure. I wish there were some way to know why, but it has remained ineffable to me. I wish there were some process of making old things new again, or of purifying tainted remains. I wish there were any way of bringing all of them back, but the world does not operate according to my wish. There is a twinkling of Katherine returning to this world, though, and that is enough to settle me. Tia's hand is on my back, rubbing at a shoulderblade, comforting me. This is a rare moment between us. It was like this when our daughters were born. Very quiet.
Elete steps forward to the altar, bowing to the bowl. (I note that his balance still compensates for his crown, even though it's not on his head. Likely that will never change. I'm reminded, with a pang, that there's very little time left for his balance to change.) He holds forth his hand, shows the ring that proves him Regent of the Empire of Audiva Rocale. At the same time, Luciprochoros steps forward and waves his hand, presenting himself. My brother need wear no proof of sovereignty - he is the true Emperor of Crux Radia. The true King is his Land and his People.
"I state my accordance," he intones very slowly and clearly.
"I state the accordance of my Empire," Elete says, the words unfamiliar to him, but just as clearly spoken. Hopefully, he will never have to speak them again.
Tia casts her golden eyes upwards to the light that seems so much less dim, and so much closer, at this of all moments. "Once more, whole, let us have Katharin'toa'rhian-to'dharahni-seohs."
Katherine is birthed in a flash of light and the sigh of unseen feathers. Luciprochoros takes her, folding the cloth she appears in around her. It is the original robe of the Advocate, though much smaller than usual. Old clothing for her, old as my robes. Tiny sandals adorn her feet.
I watch her, silent. She encompasses all of my focus right now, and all of my heart.
Luciprochoros jumps as he hears something I don't. He looks up at me, blue eyes questioning. "A Trial, so soon after this?"
I blink. I'm surprised that he felt the summons before I did. I realize that he is holding the Advocate, after all. A tiny baby in form, but a grown woman in mind and an old soul indeed. Her green eyes pierce into mine, demanding.
Of course, our old dance would resume at the instant of her re-creation. My eyes skirt up to the distant light that shows through the circle in the ceiling. It seems to be laughing at me.
I don't see why I fear change. It never seems to happen much to my life, so why bother?
Our procession leads out of the chamber. Tia stays behind, her worry nagging me in the back of my mind. She wants to know who did this to Katherine, how we could let it happen at all. She also wonders if I am hiding something in this most holy and sacred of places. We are not to hide ourselves, any part of ourselves, in this place. It's why I must wear this robe and these sandals that I hate. But I am hiding nothing of my open self, and my thoughts are my own to keep now.
We leave this place with Katherine before Tia can dig out of me just what I'm keeping silent on. This is the last place I want to be when she discovers that Stevane is gone.
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