Torn From Hope
Chapter Four: Time of Mourning
by starzsong magick

A/N: Ack... sorry about the last two chapters. I thought you could do HTML but I guess not. Oh well. I'll get them replaced soon.

And this chapter's sort of short, but I didn't know what else to put! I mean, the idea's over. Should I have made it part of the last chapter?

The grammer in this has also been fixed. Sorry about the mistakes!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters below, except for the weather-mage boy Peseli, and the Mithran priestie guy. All is copyright of Tamora Pierce! Plot is mine though; don't you dare steal it! :)


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In Tortall, a small crowd of people had gathered in the Sun God Mithros' temple in Corus. Flickering candles stood on tables and at alters, and the air was heavy with incense. Sounds of weeping could be heard as an old Mithran priest took his place at a podium, decorated with complex designs. He had only a ring of gray hair on his head, and his robes were black, the color of mourning. So were the clothes of the people who had sat in long row of benches, sniffling softly.

"Several of our relief fleet to the Yamani Islands were taken by the Black God," began the priest. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Only two weeks ago, those now deceased were alive. We pray that they find happiness and comfort in the Realms of the Dead."

Heads bowed respectfully as the priest paused. No one noticed when a person, in dark robes with a fancy border along the edges, slipped in, gender untellable. Its garments draped loosly around them, as if the figure hadn't eaten in a week. In an arcane, yet sorrowful fashion, it stopped in a dark corner. The person glanced up, once, at the main alter, taking in every object on it, from the lifelike painting of a young woman to the sticks of incense. Then, like the other mourners, it bowed its head also.

The priest cleared his throat sadly, and continued. "There are separate services for each lost; this is for Veralidaine Sarrasri of Snowsdale, Galla, Wildmage, daughter of the hunt god Weiryn, and the Green Goddess, Sarra." He proceeded to tell a brief, but complete, life story.

As the priest droned on, the stranger in the corner shook its head. "She should have stayed," it muttered, "I knew the Divine Realms were her real home. She is... was... so young."

A sound like a hammer sounded on the great double doors at the end of the temple. Several turned; many jumped, scared. Suddenly a chunky gray pony barged its way through, joining the procession with a soft nicker. Onua, Daine's first Tortallan friend, looked at the pony Cloud sadly.

"You wanted to join too, eh?" she said, almost jokingly, but she remembered what she was here for. Onua watched Cloud sadly for a moment, but turned to listen to the priest talk on.

Cloud shook her head, tossing her silver mane in the air. She was frusterated. Daine had been her companion and friend forever, and she was the first human who could understand her. Pondering, as the priest went on and and two-leggers weeped, Cloud decided that she would try to contact the badger god. He had brought Daine back to life once, so couldn't he do it again? One part of her, the part that was more human than animal, argued that that was impossible. The pony chose not to listen to it.

At last the service ended. Alanna peeked through her black veil, which conceiled her face, to the smiling portrait of Daine on the alter. She would not cry. She couldn't; she was a knight, she was supposed to be able to face tragedy. It was part of her job. An inner part of her rose up in defiance of her being a knight. She hadn't even been married yet, it said, and at that, Alanna finally broke down. She ducked her head so no one would see her tears.

The black stranger in the corner shifted its weight, and finally walked up to the table with the portrait, and a few of Daine's belongings. It muttered softly as it fingered the few possessions. "I'll petition the Great Gods, by Mithros," the person said, simply, and left as silently as it had entered, robes trailing loosely in the candlelight.

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A/N: Who's the black stranger? And what happened to Peseli in the last chapter? In less than a week the next chapter will be up (hopefully. Maybe I'll get writer's block. You never know.), so don't forget to come back! Reviews are cherished...