That her divinity,

cannot be beyond us,

For she too is of us.

-The Gospel According to the Holy First Handmaiden

As a child, Vallerian had always found refuge in the shadows. It was in those, the darkest places of the family keep, where his father couldn’t find him. Where he couldn’t hurt him. Vallerian had spent long hours cramped in those dark, musty parts of that huge home. So long that he had grown to see the darkness as a friend, a cloak that protected him. It had long granted Vallerian asylum from those that sought him harm. But right now, as he followed alongside his compatriots through the black cast streets of Southshore, Vallerian felt unsafe in the dark. Betrayed by the shadows.

Glancing up, he tried to look over the tightly packed Southshore shacks. A faint flickering of light silhouetted the squalid homes, casting them as looming figures high above. Closing his eyes, Vallerian listened. Another trick from a youth spent hiding from his father and brother. At first all he could catch was the faint padding of footsteps, shuffling of cloth, and creaking of leather that their makeshift guard made, the clank of Gardinal’s armour the loudest among them. But, beneath all that, Vallerian could hear the crackling of fire, the shouting of voices, and the clashing of metal in the distance. Opening his eyes again, he was met with darkness once more. The shadows were no friends tonight, but the shadows embrace they would keep. Anywhere there was fire, light, there would only be death tonight.

Vallerian licked his lips nervously, returning his attention to their small group: Three Korek warriors, three Faith Militia, Valleresa and Arabella, Gardinal, Kriss, and the Prophetess. Hardly an impressive host, but Vallerian had understood the plan without having to question Gardinal. Any larger and their group would be sure to draw attention. Better to slink behind the trouble than try to ram through it. Vallerian had to admit he was impressed; he hadn’t thought the Khazimi priest had the tactical prowess for such a plan. The man had always struck Vallerian as a ‘batter right through the wall to get to the other side’ type.

A twig cracked from a nearby alley and, with arrow pre-emptively drawn, Vallerian let loose into the darkness. A street hound scampered out, rushing across the street with a whimper. The arrow must have missed it by a hair. Vallerian breathed a sigh of relief, then heard everyone else behind him do the same. Glancing back, he saw that they had all turned with weapons drawn to the dog as well.

Too tense. Vallerian thought. We’ll make a mistake. That was what his teacher had taught him at least. When you were in the most danger is when you needed to remain the most calm. Unfettered emotions could kill you in a battle surer than any blade. Looking back at the rest of the group, he thought they might need that reminder more than anyone. Even Charlotte, perched on Celeste’s shoulder and peering around into the darkness with her sharp falcon eyes, looked tense. Time to break that tension with some good old Vallerian charm.

“Rekiak.” Vallerian began, speaking a hair louder than a whisper. “I was wondering something.”

“Hmm?” The Korek grunted, and both Gardinal and Kriss shot Vallerian a disbelieving look, as if to tell him to shut up. Vallerian ignored those.

“This child of yours, what are we supposed to call it?” Vallerian asked. In all honesty, it had been something he had wondered.

“It bad luck to name child before first breath.” Rekiak responded, his eyes still narrowly searching the dark for threats.

“They’re not naming it Vallerian, you pompous fool.” Gardinal grumbled from the other side of the pack and a few voices let out nervous chuckles. Vallerian grinned, he had missed that priest’s grumblings.

“I didn’t mean its name.” Vallerian waved them off. “I mean, what is it? Rekiak you’re a Korek and your new wife is a Theremya. So, what does that make it? A… Koremya?”

“A Feryek?” Kriss chimed in with a slightly less restrained chuckle. That got a snort from the Korek warriors as well as one of the Faith Militia.

“Maybe Koryak?” Valleresa spoke up with a laugh.

“I think my mum had that once.” Arabella spoke up, and that got everyone laughing.

“Those are all terrible.” Rekiak waved them all off with a grin.

“Is this really the time to be discussing this?” Gardinal called out, which only limited the laughter to snickers.

“Terminian.” Celeste spoke, and the snickers died immediately. Her voice was quiet, but everyone held their breath to listen as she continued. “Their child will be Terminian, and they will be kind and strong.” She turned to look at Rekiak, a gentle compassion in her gold and silver eyes that twinkled as the moonlight struck them. “Just like their parents and grandparents.”

At that, their party stayed silent, each in seemingly earnest contemplation. Vallerian rolled his eyes, leave it to Celeste to turn the fun into thoughtful discussion.

“Terminian…” Kriss mused.

“I… I think I like that.” Rekiak spoke up, and a few voices joined in their agreement before all faded back into silence. Still, Vallerian figured, it had worked as he intended. The quiet dread that had settled over them was gone, cleared like darkness against the glow of a torch. He would have preferred a more relaxed atmosphere than contemplative, but it was still better than before at least.