“Your Radiance.” Gardinal’s rough voice called from behind Celeste. She turned to look at him, sniffling. Had she been crying?

“Brother Gardinal. I… I’ m sorry.” She apologized, rubbing the tear from her face. She had promised him not to heal today. But she had chosen to anyway.

“No, Your Radiance, I am sorry.” He spoke low and kept his eyes lower. She cocked her head at him. “What I did at the Mudport…” He trailed off. Celeste nodded, she understood. But she wondered, did he feel remorse for his actions, or sorrow for the consequences? After what had occurred with Vallerian, she had begun to worry about Gardinal as well. Their actions seemed too in line with one another.

“I must ask you Brother Gardinal. If you could go back and approach that moment differently, would you?” For a moment their eyes met, and she saw his answer. He looked back down at the mud once more.

“I… I hope you can forgive me Your Radiance.” He eventually responded. Celeste let out a sad sigh.

“My dear friend, I will always forgive you.” She answered him, and he looked to her with hope. “But be careful dear Gardinal. The injury one can do to their own soul is far greater than any hammer strike or sword swing has ever done.” She reached out and grabbed his huge, rough hand in hers. “And I would not have those I love injured in any form.” With his hand in hers, she moved to continue walking down the streets.

The rain soaked their heads as they moved between patchwork overhangs, but Celeste found it pleasant. They walked in their silence for a long while, just letting the flow of wet and muddy people pass them by. They held hands as they walked, a comfort for both of them she hoped.

“Your safety is my duty, Prophetess.” Gardinal eventually broke their silence. She looked at his rough face. The scars that decorated it a dark reminder of his past. Sometimes it took Gardinal time to sort his thoughts, but she found that when he did, they tended to be deep, complex thoughts. She had heard people think of him as unintelligent before, but they were wrong. He was careful, deliberate, and too many people mistook that for slow.

“Your duty is to the First Mother above all else. You are a priest, and your duty is to lift up the destitute and heal the weak. Is it not?” She quoted the vows he would have made upon joining the Ethinian priesthood. For him that must have seemed a lifetime ago. It was before Celeste had even been born. He chewed on the words for a long moment before responding.

“Yes. I swore those vows. But I am not just a priest, Your Radiance. I am a soldier, forged by war as any weapon is.”

That war. Celeste felt ill at the thought of it. That was the reason so many sick and destitute filled the streets. That was the reason for the lame and crippled that begged around them. A war, finished in the eyes of the king, but not in the lives of the people. The soldiers, at least, should be finished with it, she thought.

“The war is over Brother Gardinal.” She squeezed his hand. “There are no soldiers in times of peace.”

“There are always soldiers, so long as a man has seen what I have there is.” He responded with in a strained tone. Celeste looked at him, looked at the pain evident in his every action. What horrors must he have witnessed out there? Celeste hated very few things, but war was chief among them. There was no good, no love, no compassion in war. As the Chaos was opposite the Pantheon, war itself stood antithesis to Ethinia. War was the absence of Mercy, where all else that was good in the world failed. Celeste’s heart ached, for the wounds of the men that she passed by. The mangled limbs, the dirty linen hiding missing eyes, those scars that remained from the horrors they had face. But beyond that, she felt deep pain for that suffering that had clawed its way into her guardian;s heart. A darkness that scarred deeper than any blade had ever cut.

“My poor Gardinal.” She whispered, letting a bit of her strength seep out. Letting it flow forth from her into him. “I will always be your light, when the darkness grows too near.” She whispered, too low for even him to hear next to her. But she could tell he felt it, could feel him straighten.

“I will be better.” He spoke to her. “I will strive to be better for you.” He squeezed her hand, and she smiled. She was not the First Mother, and she could not heal all these souls that surrounded her. But maybe she could help this one broken man. Maybe she could fix him. For now, that would have to be enough.

After that, Gardinal and Celeste caught up to Arabella and Valleresa. Arabella seemed to have been outlining her plans for dinner. There was a Jöln dish that she wanted to cook for everyone apparently, one her mother had made for her years ago. A dumpling she called it. Meat wrapped in dough steamed in a pot. Thankfully, after a reminder that she was a vegetarian, Arabella promised she would make some with squash instead of meat.

By the time they had arrived home, the simple plan of a dumpling dish had turned into Arabella’s plan to cook a feast for them. Gardinal grumbled about being the one who would pay for it all, but Celeste had seen him slip Arabella a pouch of silver coins. He has also asked her to pick something up he called “Krag.”

“A letter for you Master.” The elderly Jöln caretaker approached Gardinal as they entered the small courtyard in front of the home. He proffered the letter to Gardinal, and Celeste saw Gardinal blush at the sight of it. An old friend perhaps? The paper was smooth and looked expensive. A proper wax seal kept the letter closed. Gardinal thanked the man and began to move past him before the caretaker spoke again. “As well Master Gardinal, Count Vallerian awaits you within.”

They all turned to look at the Jöln, then shifted their gaze to her. Celeste felt uneasy at their stares. She had been the one to dismiss Vallerian. Had he returned seeking forgiveness? She would give it of course. But could she take him back into her presence so easily? So soon?

“Come, let us speak with him then.” Celeste told her friends, and she moved towards the front door.

Opening the door, Celeste stepped into the entry hall and two men immediately stood up from chairs in the front sitting room. Vallerian stood with his usual easy charm and confident grin, but then Celeste turned to the other man and her heart stopped.

That gentle smile. Those kind, brown eyes.

“It’s you.”