So now, as a humble man once more

I put myself before you for judgement.

One who has been placed where I once stood.

-Note within the hidden journal.

The First Mother was high in the sky, glowing brightly, as Gardinal returned home. The familiar bustle of a Silvermarket night calmed him. The sounds of merchants cleaning up their store fronts, or the few lingering street vendors trying to sell what little remaining goods they still had, left him with a sense of comfort. A comfort that stood with the remaining joy he still felt. The joy of having spent time in his lover’s arms. It had been far too long.

He had met the Grand Duke some years ago now, at a feast his brother had financed to celebrate distinguished veterans of the war. Gardinal had been the only one of his company to survive the terrible slaughter and they had called him a hero for it. Origdall wanted to support him the only way he knew how, by throwing money at it. So Gardinal had spent an evening eating and drinking with a bunch of nobleman and merchants, celebrating the dead comrades he had buried with his own hands.

He had not wanted to be at the feast that night. He had just parted ways with his first lover, a Sherya magus who he had served with in the latter part of the war, and was unsure if he would ever find someone else with the same inclinations as him. Then he met the Grand Duke, and they spent the whole night talking. Then, as the sun had risen on their party, talking quickly turned to something more. Nearly seven years later, Gardinal and he would still try to meet at least once a month.

He wished they could meet more often; something he had asked his Grand Duke about before. The answer was always the same: what would it look like for a commoner and a Grand Duke to be seen together. No matter how rich Gardinal’s family was, they were common to a lord. Gardinal would forever be too low to be recognized publicly by his lover. They avoided speaking of it now, and it very nearly didn’t hurt him anymore. At least it never tainted the pleasure he felt in his body, even now hours later.

He was out of his lover’s arms now though, and with the distance his mind began to churn once more. His mind returned to her, it always returned to her, the Prophetess, his perpetual concern. Bless her soul, he needed to get back to her soon.

Gardinal sighed, he would be there soon enough he thought, striding down the slick cobblestone street in wood heeled leather boots that clacked on the wet pavement. He contemplated her along side his other concerns. She had been acting so differently since leaving the Temple. She used to be so respectful, so compliant. Now it seemed the only way to get her to run was to tell her to stay still, and asking her to stay in the house seemed an effort in futility. Where had this rebellious streak come from? Gardinal’s gut told him it was the presence of his Lordship Vallerian. Cursed man, Gardinal thought, why had he come into their lives?

That was a mystery he had been pondering ever since leaving his home earlier that day. Why was Vallerian trying so hard to gain Her Radiance’s confidence? He didn’t believe for a moment it was about Valleresa, nor that the man had some hidden piety. Did it have to do with his wedded family? It would be just like those filthy Theremya to try and sink their evil claws into his charge. He would not stand by and let that happen, even if he was beginning to take a liking to the count. The man did have a charm, difficult as it was to admit.

Gardinal chewed on the problem. Now that Vallerian had won over Her Radiance with that Kriss boy, what could he really do stop him? Gardinal could still hardly believe it, how had Vallerian found him? Some street child that The Prophetess knew from over a decade ago. It seemed impossible. Yet it was undeniable that The Prophetess recognized him. Worse yet though was how she had looked upon seeing the man. Gardinal knew the emotions that had read so plainly across her face, even if she was too young to understand what she had felt in that moment.

Gardinal tried not to dwell on that for now. He would have a serious talk with that boy before long. Kriss could stay as a guard, but Gardinal was not about to let some handsome young peasant cause problems with Her Radiance. One of the benefits of Gardinal’s own romantic inclinations was that he had no chance of such…permanent consequences. He would ensure Her Radiance never would either. He would throttle the boy if he even dared look at her twice, he would.

Rounding a corner, Gardinal nearly ran headfirst into a large Korek man pulling a small handcart behind him. Those brutish Korek never did watch where they were going. Gardinal shook his head and didn’t even bother to curse the man as he continued on. He had a long walk yet ahead of him and his bed didn’t even lay at the end of it. A half-finished report for the Bishop waited on his writing desk. He had been putting it off for days now.

It was what not to put in it that had stumped him. What could Gardinal leave out without His Grace finding out? He couldn’t exactly write that Her Radiance had been threatened, beaten, and chased by cultists and street gangs. But don’t worry, she has new friends: a sleazy count, a reformed street thug that mugged her, and some boy from her youth she can’t stop blushing at long enough to talk to. Not to mention the slum leader who’s been taking over half of Southshore. Oh, but don’t worry it’s mostly just the whorehouses. Gardinal grumbled aloud at the last part. What had the girl been thinking, leading them off to the Red Curtains like that. Gardinal would likely be stripped of his rank if His Grace ever found out about that. Celeste needed to get back to the Temple. Unfortunately, the Bishop taking action against the Cult of X would be the quickest way. If only he could…

A sound from a dark alley caught Gardinal’s ear. He spun to look as a man burst from the shadows. Gardinal's shout died as the man placed a hand over his mouth and held Gardinal's arms behind his back with his other hand. Gardinal struggled, but the huge Fereni man was too strong, even for Gardinal.

“Stop struggling and listen to me.” He growled into Gardinal's ear. “We don't have much time.”

With a burst of strength, Gardinal managed to break free of the man. They both fell back across the street, tumbling to the wet stone ground. “Who in the Chaos do you think...” Gardinal began but stopped as he realized who the man was.

Jösef Silverarm. One of the most legendary warrior priests the Golden Hammers had ever produced, champion of the faith, member of the Council of the Pantheon. A man Gardinal admired lay across the street from him, dressed in dirty rags. Gardinal hardly recognized the man that lay there. They had met once, a decade ago during the war.

“You disappeared.” Gardinal whispered. This man had gone missing nearly eight years ago at the end of the Shaded Lands war. Some pilgrimage was the official excuse, but everyone in the faith knew he had just... vanished one day.

“I've returned. For you.” Silverarm responded, eyes darting around wildly. “Look, I...” His words were cut short as his chest exploded outwards. A jet black arrow struck into the ground, piercing Jösef and the stone alike. Gardinal stared at the arrow as it seemed to bleed a midnight smoke.

“What in the...” Gardinal gasped, before three more of the shadowy arrows shot through the man and into the cobblestone. There was nothing Gardinal could do other than stare at the dying hero.

Then Silverarm moved. Slowly, with one shaking hand reaching out, he pulled himself across the cobblestones. His lifeblood seeped out to mix with the puddles behind him, but he persisted. He forced himself forward, towards Gardinal.

“He... Showed... You...” Silverarm sputtered through gritted teeth. “This... Was... For... YOU!” He shouted the last word, raising his other hand above his head. Gardinal dropped to his knees in the presence of the man.

Around the man’s upraised hand, thick ribbons of light began to form. They twisted and turned in the air above, glimmering a silver-teal light. More and more seemed to pierce reality, thrusting into life. A profusion of holy energy wrapped around the man’s hand. A whirlpool of that brilliant light Gardinal himself had wielded so many times, all leading towards the outstretched hand. Its rapid pulsing built in intensity, and Gardinal felt an ecstasy at the sight. Then, with what felt like a rapid implosion, the power fell into itself and formed an object. A large shield, shaped like a rounded cross.

As soon as it formed, Jösef Silverarm dropped it with a thud to the earth, then collapsed. Gardinal grabbed him up and held the man in his arms.

“What's going on here?” Gardinal asked desperately. “Why did you come for me? What is this?” Looking at the blood on his hands, Gardinal knew there was still danger. He darted his eyes across the rooftops, to where the arrows must have come from. Only the intermittent light of the Mother, half covered in clouds, was to be seen above.

Looking back to those arrows, Gardinal felt a deep pit in his stomach form at the sight of them dissipating into smoke, leaving nothing in their wake. Was that Chaos? It didn't make him nauseated though, not in the way that the Summoner's fire had anyway. Silverarm croaked from beneath Gardinal, pulling his attention back. Gardinal looked at the man.

“Re... Remember...” He whispered to Gardinal, his intense determination shifting to a strained smile. He tried to mouth something else; nothing but blood came to his lips.

“Remember what?” Gardinal asked frantically, but the man only kept smiling at him with unfocused eyes. “Ethinia…” The First Mother’s name left Gardinal’s mouth as a whisper. “Bless me now…” He felt the energy within begin to build up, begin to flow into him. He focused on it, focused on this man. He had lost too many in the war, he would not let this legend die.

The glowing silver light flowed from Gardinal’s hand and into the weakening man. The thin, silver-teal tendrils of light reached out to the wound, then exploded back. Gardinal felt a chill sensation course through his body as whatever darkness filled that wound, repelled his attempts.

“First Mother…” Gardinal gasped in shock. Never, in all his years, had he ever even heard of this happening. He wasn’t strong enough to heal this man. He looked around in a panic, the few people still out this late stared down at them in horror. “SOMEONE GET HELP!” He shouted. But everyone only kept staring. “DON'T JUST STAND THERE. GET THE GOLDEN HAMMERS DAMMIT!” Gardinal felt a hand clenching around his tunic’s collar. Looking down, he met the slowly fading eyes of Silvearm staring up at him.

“Remember the Crusade.” he sputtered, then Jösef Silverarm died.