Woohooo, two reviews! Thank you so much Elena, I'm so glad to hear from you again and see that you're not tired of my stories yet. Thank you, Finduilas, as always for your suggestions. Well, here this story gets maybe a bit less sad, so I hope you both feel better for my Anomen ;)

Again, thank you for the reviews, and don't be shy to drop it again (or for a first time)…

Chapter III. Building a life again

This mission would be the last he would fulfil for the Order. The decision came to him almost as though it was from some outer influence; Anomen did not question it. He felt more at peace with his God, now that somehow his peace with Amousca's death was made. Even if Helm had not blamed him for his bitterness by withholding His powers from him, Anomen knew that his God had been displeased.

So he left the Order. There was a dinner, the last evening, so everyone could say farewells to him; Keldorn, Ryan, Wessalen, everyone was there. He was touched and felt honoured by all this recognition he received by the men of the Order, many of which he had admired and envied as a squire.

He travelled far, setting off north in an attempt to avoid the southern lands he had explored in Amousca's company and that reminded him of her. Once he reached Baldur's Gate, however, fate intervened again, and he heard of a ship leaving for Maztica.

He embarked.

He arrived in the middle of a chaos and fear he knew well; it was the panic inherent to a country under siege. It was not long before he felt the call of duty to protect the people of Maztica from the vicious cult now rising there and asking for sacrifice in human blood.

Training the maztican soldiers and teaching them, he felt each day that he grew closer to Helm, coming back to his God's teachings after the distance he had taken following Amousca's death. He came to see that he still had a duty to this world and to the Watcher, despite his wife's passing. He had thought from the moment he had met her, with the violent passion of his youth, that she was his life's duty. It had been hard to accept that fate had other plans for her, and for him.

He came to love Maztica and its people. The heat and suffocating humidity of the jungle, even in the short dry season, was rather unkind on armour and the men beneath it, but Anomen found that he could adapt surprisingly easily. He discovered with fascination the dozens of exotic fruits grown there in the gardens behind the small, clay huts, and the choclatl so abundant everywhere. The people were striking to his Amnish eyes; they were small and brown, with round noses and smooth black eyes; their muscles were small and hard, gifted with concealed strength, and their tongue was strange and full of words cut in half by aspirations.

The total change of scene made him unexpectedly at peace. He observed everything, the way the women were limited to the tasks of the house, the way the men dealt with each other almost without words, how everyone accepted and bowed to authority. Rationally, he knew he should have been shocked by those customs so different than his, but it did not happen. He blended in, to his total surprise, as a stranger with an aura of authority and power, whose people smiled to and made gifts to. He could teach them about duty, honour and loyalty, the difference between obedience and subservience, but they had something to teach him as well. They could show him true generosity, simplicity of heart, and the relentlessness of hard work unaided by magic.

He was proud when a new order was formed following his teachings of Helm's doctrine. He was ready, for the first time in years, to make his life in the same place for a while, and he had found some peace at last.

They drove back the cult, and the land thrived.

ooooo

Anomen made his life of healing the sick, teaching and training young men at arms, and keeping Maztica as safe as it could be. Even renowned pirates came to avoid the coastal villages guarded by the Disciples of Anomen.

He made new friends among the disciples, got used to let his armour take dust and rust in a locked chest in a corner of his small clay house, learned the difficult tongue of Maztica. He met a few women; those he had occasion to meet were exceptional individuals, determined to disregard the strong traditions defining the men's and women's roles. They were women he could admire, and he did; but never in all these years did he long for more than friendship. Sometimes he wondered why his heart would never beat for another as it had for Amousca. Was it that with her death he had idealized her, or was it that he was destined for her and now that he had known her, he could never believe he loved another? His solitude was not a conscious choice on his part, but he did not suffer from it.

His life was quiet now, according to the slowness of the hot jungle and bending to the rhythm of the rain. He had never felt pressured by his chaotic life on the Order's campaigns or as an adventurer, but he found the peace he tasted now to be appeasing after all this time. It was all at once easy and hard to maintain Helm's doctrine of order here; it was easy because there was so much time to make one's life of, and yet people never seemed to arrive in time, and you could never know for sure where something was when you asked directions on the street. Again, Anomen blended in with unexpected ease, learning to plan for people to be late to keep order in his own life.

One of the most important things that Amousca had taught him about life was that you did not judge others' way of life because it was different. You had a right to judge if it was evil, but Anomen had yet to see any malevolence in these timid and kind-hearted people. He could barely imagine how they had worshipped their cruel gods of sacrifice just two generations ago.

Occasionally, when he found himself waiting for someone for longer than usual, Anomen smiled slyly to himself, marvelling at the patience he could demonstrate now. How his sister would have been thunderstruck to see how the turbulent young man he had been had turned out. He thought to himself he must be getting old.

ooooo

In the following weeks, he found himself hoping he was not so old, when suddenly there were dire news coming from further south. There was a kensai-sorcerer marching on Maztica in his quest for power; it was unclear, but it seemed he was an adorer of the Five looking for a way to free Bhaal's essence. Whether he knew of Anomen's presence and his role in the fall of the Five was impossible to determine, especially through the distorted news available in this country which guild of messengers was only in its infancy.

Anomen busied himself with siege preparations, and eventually the time came when the kensai-sorcerer's army was spread in a maiz field they had burned down to the ground, not far from the modest building that was the fortress to the Disciples of Anomen. Anomen stood there among his friends and followers, his fellow comrades in arms in the coming battle. At forty, he was not afraid to take arms again. He issued orders concerning the battle strategy, and when the enemy was near enough, he prayed to Helm and summoned a Deva to his aid and that of his followers.

Even as he cast the spell, he felt a tremendous strain on his soul; summoning a Deva always was an act of utmost holiness that requested much dedication in the casting, but this time it was particularly draining. But he did as he always did; he offered his prayers to Helm as he cast and drew the divine energies for his cause. And finally, the celestial appeared in a ray of sunlight breaking through the uniform cover of heavy clouds.

Anomen fell to his knees, partly because of the draining spell, and partly because of the celestial being now standing – floating – before him. The men all around him were kneeling also, paying their respects to the creature gifting them with her presence.

"Stand, my lord," she said. "There is a battle to be fought, and Helm requires your service and mine in the coming battle."

Anomen stood, he did not know how, and faced the coming battle as his Lord ordered. The battle was long and hard-fought, but the adorer of the Five met his fate at the hands of the Disciples of Anomen, under the guidance of the Watcher and his celestial witness, who would not let this come to pass.

And once the battle was over, one of the lieutenants spoke up to the celestial, still floating next to them, sheathing her flaming sword:

"If I am allowed to speak…"

She nodded.

"Lord Anomen has taught us about the higher planes. If I have learned his precious teachings well, you are not a simple Deva."

"No, my good man, I am not a simple Deva. I am a planetar in the service of Helm, and one of my missions was to witness the end of this bringer of chaos."

She nodded towards the fallen kensai-sorceror.

"Your other mission, my lady?", Anomen asked then, his voice strangely cautious.

"I was to speak with you, my lord, but the time and place are not appropriate. Let us raise and heal those who can be saved."

Anomen nodded silently and went on distributing his healing spells. And eventually, his spells were exhausted, and the physicians and such came to the battlefield to collect the wounded and to bring them back to the fortress.

"My lord, maybe we can converse in private now?", the planetar asked.

"Yes… Amousca, I would like to speak with you," Anomen answered, and he gestured her towards the gates.

Anomen's lieutenants stared after Anomen in shock. Everyone had heard the story of his elven wife whispered in awe at a moment or another – it was a tragic love story that struck the imagination in this country where almost no one had ever seen elves.

But the people of Maztica had a way to guess at other people's minds without the need for words, and all of Anomen's friends found themselves thinking back on how he had reacted when she had appeared.

"She is Amousca," one declared at last.

There were no nods, only discrete moves of the hands or approving stares, which all of them could easily decipher.

"No wonder he fell on his knees when she was summoned," another added.

"And no wonder either how she stays so long on our plane. She must have great power, both sustained by the magic she wielded as a mortal, and by Helm she serves."