And know that her mortal blood,

Is not her weakness,

But the heart of her strength.

-The Gospel According to the Holy First Handmaiden

Even before he passed through the gates of The Forest, the warm glow of bonfires beckoned Gardinal from beyond the horizon. Its brilliant glow casting a beacon into the night that surely even the king must have seen from his palace high above. It must have been more than a hundred brilliant bonfires on the edge of the city to shine so bright. More than a hundred bonfires to mark a wedding. A wedding Gardinal trudged toward, alone.

Now making his way down the Southshore street, Gardinal grumbled internally. Come to the Ga’Se’s son’s wedding! Bring a friend! That was what the large Korek man had said cornering Gardinal after exiting Archibald’s study. The man had startled him so badly Gardinal had nearly smashed the brute’s skull in.

“Bring a friend.” Gardinal grunted, remembering the ruddy Korek’s stupid grin. As if it was that easy. Not that he didn’t have friends, by Gardinal’s count he had plenty of friends! But when he had thought about who to bring, Gardinal had simply come up empty. Gervin was a good man but had a mean tongue when it came to the Korek. Gardinal was in contact with his old captain, Sir Kristoff, but it would be unseemly for a knight to attend a peasant wedding. That likewise cut out the man whose bed he hadn’t shared in some months; a Korek wedding was no place for the Grand Duke of the Fereni. As for Archibald… well they weren’t there yet. There had been one other name that came to mind. A name he hadn’t thought of in a long time. A name he tried not to think about.

“If you even knew where he was.” Gardinal grumbled, shoving his old war ‘friend’ from his mind. No, try as he might there had been no one for him to bring. But at least, he thought, he would see Her Radiance tonight. Assuming His Grace the bishop had allowed it of course. There was no doubt she would have received an invitation if Gardinal had. But with every step toward the Korek celebration, Gardinal’s doubts of seeing Her Radiance grew. Still, he had already come this far, and he had told the Korek man he would attend this event after all. A Belnur did not break their word.

Even leaving The Forest at mid-day, it had taken till long past sunset to arrive at Korek town. Perhaps it might have been quicker had he worn his priestly robes instead of his ornamental armour, the heavy metal weighing him down. He was getting old it seemed. There had been a time when he could march for days in his armour. Rolling his shoulder, a tight knot forming in it, he regretted wearing his full ornamentation. Still, it was a wedding, and a formal occasion demanded his most formal attire. Though as the tight cramped townhouses and occasional free-standing shanty was traded for tents larger than shanties and structures decorated with died leathers and carved bones, it dawned on Gardinal that perhaps the Korek did not celebrate a wedding as other Terminians might.

The Korek that filled the paths seemed clothed in a different sort of celebratory garb. They were bare chested, men and woman alike, with furs covering shoulders and little more than linen cloths wrapping their waist. With every stride and every dance, Gardinal watched in nervous curiosity as he was sure one particularly large Korek man’s waistcloth was near to slipping. It never did.

Tearing his eyes from the large — and surprisingly handsome — man, Gardinal looked down one cramped meandering path, then another.

“How am I supposed to find anything here?” Gardinal grumbled aloud. He had been past Korek Town before. It was a hard place to miss living in Southshore for nearly a decade, but he had never actually ventured in. For good reason, he thought eyeing the twisting paths. They seemed aimless, as if trampled by beast instead of man. They needed a good Khazimi steward to sort them out they did.

Picking one randomly, praying for Sent’s own luck, he made his way deeper into the mess. His chosen path led around various raging bonfires, a light wind blowing smoke and cinders into the air. The aroma of roasting meat, at the very least, was a comfort.

The scents of sizzling fat seemed a small gateway that allowed Gardinal to begin enjoying the chaotic celebration the Korek hosted. Quickly, rushing on the tails of the rich smells, Gardinal was swept into the music as well. A reverberating song echoed into the night, beating drums, and trumpeting horns to accompany the dancers who jingled rhythmically with metal bracelets on wrist and ankle. Those who danced seemed to do so with abandon, throwing their arms into the air, leaping over one another, and laughing as they fell. Child and adult alike they sang. Sang and drank and danced with a youthful exuberance, unfettered by the weight of war that Gardinal carried. For a brief moment it reminded him of a place, far away from there. A place where he had sung raunchy tunes and drank too much around campfires much like those around him then. Back then though, it had been to stave off the darkness they had all felt pressing in.

A cloud of vibrant red powder shook Gardinal from his memory. Stumbling back he coughed as the cloud of crimson settled slowly to the earth. Looking for the source, he noticed a woman wandering about, reaching into a bowl she held and tossing the powder into the air every time she neared someone. The powder seemed to settle into the furs and linens of the Korek men and women. And from the splotchy hues of yellow and green that accompanied the red on their clothing, Gardinal deduced that this woman was unlikely to be the only one throwing such dyes about. Eyeing his own clothes, the once crisp white half robe that jutted out his breastplate now stained to the knees, Gardinal grumbled. That was likely to take the initiates at the new temple days to clean.

Another Korek girl moved to toss some yellow powder toward Gardinal, backing off at the growl he directed at her. She shied away, rushing back into a group that surrounded a nearby fire with puffs of yellow in the air to mark her path.

Sighing loudly, he admitted that perhaps a growl was a bit much. Even he had come to admit that he had been irritable these past few weeks. But with the way his muscles ached, the fool children he had been put to nanny, and the fact that he hadn’t been able to see the Grand Duke in more than a month, he felt his irritation was more than justified. And that’s all without even bringing up her. He needed her, just a bit. Just needed a bit of her light, then he’d be fine. Then he'd stop aching so badly.

“Brother Gardinal?” A youthful, if still deep, voice called out.