In one moment of weakness

We lost all we cherished.

The First Tree, our home eternal.

Burnt to ash, by the sins of our own failings.

-The Book of the Abandonment 1;1-4

“All I want to do is make their lives easier!” Celeste stomped a foot. When had she ever stomped a foot before? Gardinal was being incredibly exasperating today. A week, a whole week, and still she was trapped inside. She was so frustrated she could almost punch a pillow. Almost. The home was very nice, and she was very thankful for her guardian's protection. But this was getting ridiculous. “When am I going to be able to go back to the temple? When can I service my people once more? Tending to their weary souls?” She asked. “Can't you see? I need to share the First Mother's grace with those who need it most!”

Gardinal, sat across the room in a tall-backed cushioned chair and rubbed his eyes exhaustedly. “I don’t know Your Radiance. You’re just going to need to be patient.”

“I have been patient Gardinal! I can only read your books for so long!” She had read every single one of his Khazimi finance treatises three times in the past several days. The only other tomes he had were religious ones she already knew by heart. “I have a duty to the people of Southshore. All those ailing and suffering that walk those streets needs me.” She just needed to make him see, make him understand. “The beating wings of a hummingbird can move mountains with time. Let me beat my wings!” She quoted an old Khazimi parable.

“No.” Gardinal responded. “We can’t be having you in any danger. Not after how close things got before.” He told her the same line she had heard a thousand times the past several days. “You must stay here. Stay safe.” That last part seemed more for himself than her.

“If I spend my whole life locked up then what's the point? Why would Ethinia give me these gifts if not to share them?” She was blessed by the First Mother for a reason, and she knew what it was: to heal others, to help the needy. “As the First Fruits were given gifts, so to is every soul. Meant to give again as they were given. For nothing of the gods' is meant for one soul alone.” She quoted the Book of the Dawn to make her point. Looking from a window everyday, witnessing the destitute and distressed that she knew she could help. It was too much. Every aching-boned merchant pulling a hand cart, every exhausted carpenter patching up old homes, she needed to ease their burden.

“No.” Gardinal said with a finality. Celeste puckered her lips in a pout but slumped back to her favourite sitting spot. The home was full of comfortable seats and plush cushions, but Celeste had fallen in love with the second storey sitting room's window ledge. She would sit there, back pressed against the frame, watching people for hours.

“Be careful there.” Gardinal remarked to her for what must be the thousandth time. Lest she be seen by passersby, he would say.

“I know.” She responded for the thousand and first time, nestling herself into the window nook. Face poking through the curtains, she gazed out over the streets of her beloved Southshore.

How she admired these people. She saw all the gods' children among these masses, even some Sherya, though those were rare. Across the street, a Fereni thatcher pushed thick bushels of thatch across an old leaky rooftop. At the bottom of his ladder, a Khazimi merchant sat with a small handcart, trying to peddle rusty pots and pans. A young Jöln glanced at the man’s wares, before rushing off to catch up with his father, an older Jöln guiding a mule-cart laden with vegetables. Celeste giggled as she watched a Fershya boy, his high cheekbones and gemstone eyes indicative of his heritage, swiping a carrot from the cart and taking a bite. That boy only made it a few feet before running into a Sherya priest, going to or heading from the temple. The Priest, Celeste could not quite make out which one from so far, chastised the boy, before paying the Jöln man for the stolen item.

Even one of the Korek was about here, those tall burly folk once born of the Chaos but saved by Ethinia’s mercy. He seemed to be a guard of sorts for a wily-looking Fereni man who was setting up a small stand to the side of the road. The Korek was distinctive enough with his thick brow and dark red tinted skin. Celeste knew the stories of the Korek, the Chaos-Born, and had always found them a beautiful people. She had never had the fortune of meeting one in person though. They seemed to practice their faith differently from the other peoples, and Celeste very much wished to learn of their ways.

A knock came at the door, pulling Celeste's gaze. She turned to look at Gardinal, who had already drawn his war hammer with white knuckles. The only people who knew they were here were Valleresa, and the Bishop. But her father was unlikely to come, and Valleresa had left not yet an hour ago. She had gone to fetch some leisure reading for Celeste from her parents' estate.

“You stay right there, Your Radiance.” Gardinal ordered, quietly so only she could hear. There was a tension in his voice. Celeste nodded her agreement.

With slow, careful steps, Gardinal advanced out of the room and down the hallway. She could hear him descending the creaky wooden stairs from her perch. Who could it be? She hadn’t noticed anyone approaching the home, but she also had been watching that Korek gentleman with a keen interest. She waited, listening if anything could be heard from below.

Nothing. Slowly she lowered herself from her perch, her small feet stepping carefully across the wood as to not make a sound. She had not learned this skill in the temple. The ability to move across old flooring with nary a sound was from the time before. Before her father had found her. Every child who lived on the streets knew how to move without noise. She crossed the room in silence and tip toed down the stairs.

“…you think you’re doing here boy?” Gardinal growled. She could just barely catch his words, the open door covering most of his body and muffling the sounds. Someone else spoke from the other side, but Celeste couldn’t quite hear them. “Well she isn’t here! So move along!” Gardinal barked at the man. Celeste inched closer, trying not to make a noise as she crawled down the staircase. Straining herself to hear what the other man said.

“Come now Brother Gardinal, I saw my sister leaving here only moments ago. Besides, you aren't hiding anything, half of Southshore could hear you two arguing.” Was that Lord Vallerian? He wasn’t a threat! Far from it, he was a friend.

Celeste dashed down the stairs without regard for noise. If Vallerian was anything like his sister, then he could help convince Gardinal of her need to go out and be among the people.

“Count Tarnarquill!” She called, reaching the bottom of the stairs. Gardinal stepped back to look at her. Was that betrayal on his face?

“Your Radiance!” Gardinal shouted. “I told you to stay up stairs.”

It seemed that with Gardinal no longer barring the way, Vallerian saw permission, and strode right past him into the small foyer.

“What a quaint home you have here Brother Gardinal. A brilliant homage to the Southshore aesthetic.” Vallerian patted Gardinal on the back before looking for a seat. There weren’t many in the entry room, just a small bench and chair. Celeste would not miss this chance…

“Get out!” Gardinal shouted. “Get out of my house!”

“Brother Gardinal!” Celeste gasped. “Lord Vallerian is a valued guest within our home, and we should treat him as such.”

“Our home now is it?” Gardinal asked.

“Do you not wish for me to feel at home anywhere you are?” She responded. He ground his teeth but kept quiet. “Lord Vallerian, what a pleasure it is to have you here. Please won't you come up stairs? Our sitting room is much more appropriate for entertaining.” She would not let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

“The pleasure is all mine, Radiance. Please, lead the way.” Vallerian gave her a shallow bow and that winning smile he had. Gardinal just grunted but followed behind as they moved upstairs.

The trio sat in the room now, a tense silence lingering upon them. Celeste had read about this happening in her books, an awkward silence was the death of any social encounter. She was the Prophetess of the First Mother, Goddess of Life, she would not let anything die, even a conversation.

Celeste studied her two companions. Gardinal sat, arms crossed with deep furrowed brow, atop his tall back chair once more. He glared at Vallerian as though with enough angry stares the man would disappear. Vallerian, however, seemed quite relaxed, lounging with one leg up on a large plush and velvet sofa.

“So, My Lord.” Celeste began, trying to get conversation started. “What brings you to our small home?” Gardinal grunted at the 'our' part. She would need to speak with him on that, she did so wish to feel at home here.

“Well, I was heading to the temple to come meet with yourself and Lady Valleresa, when I noticed my lovely sister departing from this very home.” The young count explained. Celeste blushed as Gardinal shot her an angry look, Valleresa going out during the day had been Celeste’s idea. “Then I heard Brother Gardinal’s booming voice here during your earlier... discussion, and I figured there was only one person who could drive such passions in our dear Khazimi here.”

“Watch what you're saying boy.” Gardinal grunted. It seemed most of his rage was out of him.

“I mean no offence Brother Gardinal, quite the opposite in fact, I seek to assist.” Vallerian shot Celeste a grin, as if to say, ‘just you wait.’

“I can’t imagine what help a puffed-up lordling such as yourself could be to us.” Gardinal said.

“Well good thing I have a better imagination than you Brother Gardinal. I come to offer my services as, say, a protector of Her Radiance's.”

“How splendid!” Celeste exclaimed at the exact same moment that Gardinal snapped.

“Absolutely not!”

They all looked to one another, Vallerian with a brow raised.

“Brother Gardinal, we have been quite exhausted these past days, perhaps this could give you some time to relax.” Celeste pressed. Her dear guardian had been looking particularly weary and frustrated of late. “And perhaps with his lordship’s protection, as well as yours of course, I might finally be able to tend to our weary brothers and sisters in Southshore?” Celeste looked to Gardinal hopefully. It was a short lived.

“No Celeste.” he barked. Celeste started, Gardinal had never called her by her name before. Perhaps she had pushed too far. Celeste looked to Vallerian for help.

“As much as it pains me to say it, I think you're right Brother Gardinal. If I had a group of mad-men out to kill me I wouldn't be running around, that's for sure.” Vallerian shrugged, not even looking at her.

“Then what are you protecting me for? What's the point of all this if I can't help our people?” she begged. “I have one duty in this world, trusted to me by Ethina Most Merciful. Let me do this.” She pleaded with her eyes as much as her words. Gardinal turned from her.

“I said no. I already told you, there will be no going out until we know you are safe.” Gardinal slammed his fist into his side table. “Don’t you think I’d rather be out there? Hunting down these heretics that are trying to kill you? But no, here I am making sure you don't kiss every scraped knee on every street rough from here to Mudport!” Gardinal shouted at her. Shouted! At her! It was too much. “Stop making it any more difficult than it has to be!”

“If I’m such a burden, should I just hide in my chambers?” Celeste shouted back, storming from the room and across the hall to her bedchamber. “Here I thought leaving the temple would shed me of my gilded cage, but instead I have simply changed the decor.” She heard Gardinal move to rise behind her, but she slammed the door shut in her wake. She just could not look at him right now.

All she wished for was to be of service, to succor the poor. Why was that so hard for him to understand? The First Mother had formed her life for that reason, but now she was stuck in this miserable place. Locked away as she had been for years. It seemed every man in her life had plans and intentions for her, and none of them actually included helping the people of Southshore. She felt so frustrated in her inability to do anything. Hot tears streamed down her face. The Mother was known for Her tears, but Celeste’s childhood on the streets had made her feel guilty for when she shed her own. What right did she have to weep? Loving friends, warm food and housing. So much more than so many, she had no real reason to cry.

Sitting at her window she pushed the shutters open so she could regard the street once more. The masses had moved along since earlier, not even the Korek man remained. Still she saw a thousand weary faces. A thousand souls she could touch with the Mother's Mercy. Small aches she could heal, a stumbling drunkard that she could purge of the vile poison. She could help them, if she could just get out.

She looked down and noticed, perhaps for the first time, that two storeys really wasn’t that high up. Looking around, she saw it all come together. Bed sheets, four-post bed, and only a short drop. She grinned as she got to work.