Olrich entered the private office with his robed charge. The room was beautifully lit by monster stone lamps which reflected off the gilded furniture.

A room without shadows, he thought as the duke’s functionary gestured to a pair of chairs. I can hardly think of a more suitable place for seeing this miscarriage of justice brought to light.

The functionary closed the door behind them, before taking the seat opposite them. “I understand that you have requested to speak to his grace,” the man said setting his hands on the table in front of him and lacing his fingers.

“Yes,” Olrich replied and glanced around the room. “We must speak to him at his earliest convenience.”

“Unfortunately that will not be possible,” the man said with a blank expression. “His grace is exceptionally busy, and has more pressing matters to deal with.”

“I understand that his grace is busy,” Olrich replied evenly. “It is why we have waited so long for a chance to carry this mater to him. I assure you as a servant of the goddesses that this matter is worthy of his attention.”

The man in the duke’s livelry stared at Olrich for a long moment before his eyes went wide in surprise. “Oh, you are done then. I usually get something more from petitioners.”

The man smiled, and waited. When Olrich did not respond his expression fell and he sighed. “You were to rather brief so I will respond in kind, and spare you the meaningless apologies,” the man said with a dismissive gesture. “I do not know how you arranged to speak to me, or what podunk town from which you hale from, but his grace is busy. I do not care how important you think such matters are, the duke’s attention is beyond such trivial maters.”

Olrich felt his insides tighten at the dismissal, but put aside his injured pride to try again to complete his task. “I am a member of the church and am requesting a meeting with his grace on behalf of the goddesses. Would you really turn away the representative of the goddesses?”

“Yes, now if you would be so kind as to not loiter before the duke’s hall on your way out it would be appreciated,” he said standing. “If I see you there, the guards will remove you.”

“How can you dismiss us in this manner?” Olrich asked slowly rising. “How will the words of the goddesses reach his grace if you turn away their servants in this way?”

“If it is that important to the goddesses, they can come themselves,” the man replied with a sneer. “The paige will see you out.”

Olrich was flabbergasted at the man’s casual blasphemy, and staggered out of the room as the man shooed them out. Olrich regained his sense of self as he stood in hall staring at the door the man closed in his face. How could he… how could anyone speak of the goddesses in such a disrespectful way?

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“This way sirs,” a gangly young man said, turning to lead the way down the hall without waiting for their response.

Olrich followed a few steps behind as the young men lead them down the hall. He passed silently down the hall, lost in his own thoughts. The sound of their steps hammered in his failure. With each step he moved further from what he had been tasked to accomplish.

The paige turned to the left as the hallway intersected another hall. Olrich was so lost in his thoughts that he stopped at the sudden change in direction.

Goddess please guide me to the path, Olrich prayed silently. He knew it was wrong to ask for signs, but he was lost. The path to Saphire had been easy, but his attempts to meet the duke had instantly hit a wall. He continued to wait hoping for the path to make itself clear or the goddess to make her will known.

He shivered, and unconsciously crossed his arms to hold himself as the remembered the moment the world froze. He could feel the goddesses grab his thread and hold him as the world shuddered. The feeling passed quickly, but as it passed he felt himself alone.

He had not realized when he first noticed the goddess’s presence, but her absence now left him turning slowly inward. With each day he felt himself more adrift. He began to loose his confidence. In his depression he lost his will to eat and would go days without food.

His butler, Rechnel, had realized his change in mood quickly and had gone out in search of a way to arrange the meeting through his connections. He had spent weeks searching the city for someone who could help Olrich meet the duke. Today’s meeting had been the best an apologetic Rechnel could arrange.

I know why he was apologetic, he thought remembering the brief interaction with the functionary. I doubt he would have arranged the meeting if he knew the man was like that. If only there was someone of faith I could trust to help.

The sound of voices pulled him from his thoughts, and he caught the barely audible sound of what might have been the name of the goddess.

Olrich did not realize he was moving until he found himself running in the direction of the voices. He felt himself drawn toward them and away from the direction the paige had taken. He thought he heard the paige calling out behind him, but he ignored him. This is the path. It has to be. I will not fail again!

Olrich could see an open door ahead on his left where he could make out the sounds of several women talking. Sunlight poured through the doorway into the hall, leaving Olrich blind to where he was going as he raced through it.

Olrich’s motion came to a sudden stop. He felt rough hands grab him and force him to his knees. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the daylight, and took in the sight of a small gathering in a private garden.

“What are you doing here?” the one of the guards holding him down asked, twisting Olrich’s arm behind his back.

Olrich ignored the guard and the pain, staring at the woman sitting at the table a few paces from where he was kneeling. Despite the muted colors of her clothes, her bearing and position a the table identified her as the most important person here. She stared at him her hand going to the symbol of a saint on her necklace. The saint was so old he was barely remembered.

But the tiume spent in the temple basement meant Olrich knew the old saints better than anyone else. At another time he would marvel at how the goddesses had prepared him for this moment, but for now his mind was consumed by his task.

“I am follow the path,” Olrich said quoting the saint, as he met her gaze unblinking. “I pray you hold the goddesses in your heart, as like their symbol I am in your hands.”

Olrich dropped his gaze and prayed her grace wore the symbol out of piety. If she did not, he might be the second matyr to utter those words.