The veil’s span from north to south was immense, but the march from west to east was a mite thinner. Before long - in the same day, in fact - the chosen of the last remaining few loyal gods of Berodyl arrived at the easternmost foothold of faith: Lovers’ Priory. Phyrn, Brightbrand, and Ponima were all there to welcome them, flinging the doors open wide when they sensed their arrival.

Livia felt a shiver as she entered the building, goosebumps rising on her arms. It looks just like Ardour Temple, she observed, except… not quite. There was something different about it that she couldn’t place. Perhaps because it hadn’t been the setting of a fierce battle. Not yet it hasn’t, at least.

“We have prepared the central chamber,” Phyrn said. “It should be adequate for you to rest up and prepare before we let ourselves be known and make our stand.”

The others let Daniel lead the way, as this was still his place to oversee. He bowed his head before the gods, and thanked them, before leading everyone down the halls. When they reached the central chamber - which made Livia shiver yet again with its similarity to the central chamber in which she’d awoken screaming - Daniel hopped up onto the stone bed in the centre, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling off and swaying the cloth surrounding them, tracing his hands along the surface either side of him. “I have not made proper use of this since just before the severance. I suppose I might never do so again.”

There were chairs for the others, arranged in a semicircle around the stone bed.

“What makes you say that?” asked Emilie.

“Because,” Brightbrand answered, “with only three of us left, the old way of things is no longer… suitable. Phyrn, Ponima, and I must take a more active role in the world. We must wean the people from their dependencies upon gods whom no longer exist.”

“We still exist,” Ponima pointed out. “I know that’s rich coming from me, I’ve not been the most dependable in the past, but… times are a-changin’, and so am I. I can’t promise I won’t have an episode every now and then, but… I can promise to try harder.”

“That is most noble of you, Ponima,” Phyrn said. “And much appreciated. Brightbrand and I will need your help.”

“And what of us?” Emilie spoke up again. “What becomes of the hierophants? The sisterhood?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Daniel said. “And, really, the answer is simple; not much changes. Our time as listeners and messengers may be passing, but we’re still in a position to spiritually guide the people at large. I think we, too, will be needed more than ever in this coming chapter of our history.”

“You ever impress me, Daniel,” Emilie reflected. “In fact… I think I’ve been quite impressed with all of you on more than one occasion. It has lead me to ponder my own… impressiveness. Or, as I fear, lack thereof.”

Brightbrand laid a hand upon her shoulder, smiling when she nearly leapt out of her chair. “You should save some of your faith for yourself, rather than us. You are yet to reach your fullest potential. Everyone here is.”

“In a way,” Daniel mused, “I feel as if I’ve been preparing for this day for a long time, taking in as much wisdom and taking as much initiative with my own growth as possible. During my time here, I have taken up more magical studies than a hierophant usually might. I’m not a theurgist, that would be inappropriate… but I dare to aspire. One of the driving forces behind my exploration of magic outside the typical purview of the sisterhood was a… curiosity. I don’t quite call it a desire… at least, I didn’t at the time. I’m still thinking about it. A curiosity regarding the changing of my body. I often wondered if it would be appropriate for me to make my physical form more… feminine. To better suit my place in the world. I stopped, though, as I realised I was possibly not being driven by a seeking of fulfilment, but perhaps by the anxieties of insecurity and invalidity.” Daniel looked up at one of the stained glass portraits. “It was Nativus who showed me that the circumstances of my birth do not preclude the fulfilment of my wishes, nor my holding of an exclusionary title; such things are not beholden to the preconceptions of the mortal mind. They showed me that conformity was not necessary for achieving my dreams or finding happiness. It is because of them that I now fully embrace what, in my heart, I know to be me, no matter what the world sees or thinks. I remember the question that finally allowed me to deconstruct my misconceptions; they asked me: ‘if you cannot be true to yourself, how can you be true to anyone or anything else?’ The pursuit of my best self is directly conducive to my service to the gods. Not that… not that we have many left to serve.”

“Nativus guided you well, Daniel,” Ponima said, “and I hope I can be as rewarding. For the first time… I find myself moved by the faith of mortals. If I only ever choose one hierophant to hear my whispers, I’m glad it has been you.”

Daniel nodded. “As am I. I cannot stress the profoundity of Nativus’ wisdom in my self-searching, and I’m sure yours will be equal.” He shuffled his shoulders, and slipped out of his robe. It fell around him, dangling out over the belt, revealing his upper body. He was wearing a chaste shroud, but not one of normal fabric; it looked to be made of pure white flowerblood - also known as latex - clinging to his form like a shiny second skin. On his chest, it was marked with a pair of side-by-side sigils, both of which were incomplete. “I have even started reconsidering whether changes to my body might still be right for me. I no longer pursue these possibilities out of feelings of inadequacy, though; now, it is solely out of wanting to embody my truest self. What I am is only for me to decide.” He pinched the fabric of his robe’s upper half and pulled it back up around himself, sliding an arm down each sleeve and closing the front.

“It’s funny to me,” Pippy tittered, “that some of you find it so weird. Stuff like this was so common and normal back in Aubade.”

“Was it?” Livia cocked a brow. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“I guess that was one of the differences between country and city life,” Pippy shrugged. “The magic capital probably saw a lot of things the outer townships and villages never saw.”

Livia paused to think. “I… guess you’re right. Since coming here to Berodyl, for instance, I’ve seen so many new things. Back in Aubade, my community was more-or-less living by the Old Ways.”

“Nothing wrong with that!” Pippy patted her on the back. “Just means I get to see your reactions to all the tricks city folk like me were so used to!”

Livia laughed almost nervously. “Can’t wait.”

“I’m not sure if I feel inspired,” Emilie lamented, “or embarrassed. I’ve been so narrowly focused on utter devotion, I now feel as though I’ve been neglecting… a certain independent quality.”

“Well, I could always use a study buddy!” Pippy chirped.

“And you know Krey and I are always willing to help you wield that sword better,” Livia offered.

“And I may have learned a thing or two the hard way your gentle self might benefit from learning the easy way,” Bel smirked.

“Alright, Alright,” Emilie laughed, “I’m feeling better already. Truly…” she smiled more genuinely now, “I am.”

Phyrn whirled in place, just about holding herself back from darting toward the door. This, combined with the sudden shakiness in her breath, got everyone’s attention.

“Phyrn?” Livia rose from her chair and took a step towards the startled goddess.

“No…” Phyrn muttered to herself. “It can’t be…” her voice rose in volume harshly. “It can’t be!”

“Goddess,” Emilie pleaded, “what’s wrong?”

Without answering, Phyrn exploded toward the exit, nearly knocking the others down with the burst of energy. Ponima urged Daniel to climb upon her back and then scooped Pippy up in her arms, while Brightbrand did the same with Krey and Bel on his back, and Livia and Emilie in each of his arms. They took off at blistering speed, the ones clinging to the gods’ backs nearly thrown off. They followed the trail of excited mana Phyrn was leaving in her wake, and saw she was headed toward Atu-Vō, south of the priory.

“I don’t understand,” said Daniel, “there’s nothing out there— nothing of interest or importance, anyway. It’s just… rural countryside.”

“This is the most agitated I’ve ever seen her,” Brightbrand said gloomily. “There must be something there now, something we missed…”

“Whatever it is,” Ponima said, “let’s pick up the pace and deal with it! Fyren can’t be far off now that we’re making such a display of ourselves!”

He might be closer than you two think, Livia feared. I don’t think we were ever hidden from him in the priory.