Chapter 36: Theme of Despair

Chris awoke to the sounds of the forest. Birdsong filtered into the room with the morning sunlight, and the leaves rustled in the breeze. The creak of floorboards and the low murmur of voices in the corridor outside told her the house was in motion, awakened to the new day. Startled, she realized she had awoken late. She felt sore and spent, but blissfully refreshed. She had slept deep, and well.

Chris stretched her limbs beneath the blankets, felt her leg brush up against Hugo's buttocks. She flushed, memories of last night flooding back into her mind. She felt warm inside. Their love making had been shy at first, then passionate. Eventually, almost mindless, driven by a mutual, raw need. To see Hugo stretched out in bed beside her was like waking from a strange but pleasant dream. Only to find that, the language spoken in the dream did not exist in the waking world. Chris stared at Hugo's ruffled locks of hair, and wondered how one could possibly talk about this.

She lay there, watching him, playing back the events of last night. She did so with a considerable measure of satisfaction. She felt no regret, though she had not the faintest notion of how to behave around the man after what they'd done. She had opened her heart, bared everything. Now she stood as a woman unarmored and defenseless in the face of a charging troop of infantry. She could but hope for some miracle to break the charge.

And yet, the decision had come with its own natural consequence. She had chosen her path, and must now walk it to its end.

Sitting on the bed, she set about braiding her hair. Hugo stirred slowly, limbs thrashing, yawning grotesquely. Chris watched him rouse, pulling back the blankets to cover herself. Slipping from the covers, Hugo lay splayed out in repose, his lean, muscled body a feast for her eyes. Chris's gaze naturally wandered down between his legs, and she felt her breath catch. She let her eyes rest there for a time as she waited for Hugo to register her presence, feeling only a mild sense of guilt.

He grinned when he saw her, a gesture so genuine, so filled with guileless emotion, Chris had to return the smile. She gripped the blankets closer to her chest. Hugo did not seem aware of his nakedness, or if he was, he did not care.

She drew a deep breath. "It is good that you are awake. I wish to speak about last night."

Hugo rose onto his knees, drawing up before her. "Drop the blankets, and we'll talk."

It took all of Chris's discipline to raise her eyes to meet his. "This is important to me. You will be serious," she commanded. She sensed the authority of her voice was somewhat spoiled by the waver of her voice and the flush of her cheeks.

Hugo's smile broadened. "I'm dead serious." He cupped her cheek, moved in to kiss her. Chris pulled away, batted his hand away gently. Sighing, Hugo sat back. "What do you wanna talk about?"

"We must speak about what we did."

Hugo cocked his head as if in deep thought. "Yesterday was a busy day. Can you be more specific?"

Chris felt her cheeks burn. "Do not mock me. You know of what I speak."

Hugo's brow furrowed in mock confusion. He was fighting to keep a grin from curling his lips. "Maybe if we did it again, it would jog my memory?" He leaned forward on hands spaced wide apart, kissing the blankets covering her belly. "We can do it over and over," he murmured, "Until I remember. Then we can discuss it at length."

Chris made to step off the bed, tugging at the blankets. Hugo had trapped them beneath his hands, and the blanket slipped down for a moment before she pulled it free and stood, wrapping herself more securely. "We will not do it again."

A look of confusion spread on Hugo's face. "You're serious. Of course, we don't have to… We can wait," he said, uncertainly.

"It will not happen again," Chris said firmly. She saw her words take effect in Hugo's eyes, and felt a twinge of pain. Goddess, the last thing she wanted was to hurt him.

Comprehension dawned on Hugo's face. "You braided your hair."

Chris turned her back as she let the blankets fall. She felt Hugo's eyes on her back as she slipped back into the night gown she'd discarded. The gown from which she had escaped, for a brief moment, into Hugo's arms.

"Last night," she said, "I followed my heart." She turned to face him. Hugo sat cross-legged on the bed, back straight as if braced for a blow. "I was Chris Lightfellow, a woman making love to a man. Now I must follow my convictions. I must go back to being the Silver Maiden."

Hugo shook his head vehemently. "I don't get it. Why can't you be both?"

"Zexen needs her captain," Chris said. Her voice almost betrayed her as she spoke. "After the ritual, it is time for me to leave. Understand, what we share is precious to me. I hold no regrets in my heart. You will always be my dear friend. But there can be nothing more between us. To rally the people of Zexen, I cannot be Chris Lightfellow. I must be the invincible Silver Maiden, the captain at the head of the Knights."

Hugo stumbled to his feet, his body unwieldy, bereft of its usual nimbleness. He stared at her, face drained of color. She saw his pain, the searching for words in his flickering eyes, and her heart fell as if into an abyss. She wanted to approach him, but she did not trust herself. If she went to him now, she doubted if she would ever have the strength to do what she had to do. Turning away from him proved among the hardest things she had ever done.

Chris paused at the door, turning her head, just enough to catch sight of him out of the corner of her eye. "Please try to understand," she said. This time, her voice did break. She fled.

Nestled in her braid, unseen by Hugo, was a single colorful ribbon.

A Karayan hairband.

Yun picked her way through the debris of the festival. Morning light lanced through the trees, illuminating the glade, glinting on stripped plates and emptied pitchers. Overturned cups littered the ground. Here a drummer lay slumped over her drums, having beaten the stretched leather into a deep and mutual exhaustion. There a pair of lovers lay snaked into each other's arms, their bare chests rising and falling with breath as the sun warmed their cheeks.

Yun lingered there, watching the couple. The woman, Kinese, her long chestnut hair pasted to her back with dried sweat. The man, Karayan, his arms wrapped protectively about his lover. They lay where they fell, snared by their passion, then drained by it. They would wake to a new day, their heads splitting apart with the memory of brandy, filled with embarrassment, perhaps with regret. But they would wake to another day. They were free to choose how to interpret their actions, how to carry on.

How Yun envied them! She glanced about the glade, saw others asleep in the dew-glistening grass. She envied them all. Yun would never again wake to see another day. She stared up the sun, rising over the trees of Alma-Kinan, rising towards its zenith. Her last sun.

Wiping her tears and forcing a smile, Yun started towards the Elder's cabin. She had one last day. One last, priceless gift. And she would share it with those she loved most.

The men and women who filtered out of the common room of the Elder's cabin were a solemn lot. After leaving Hugo's room, Chris had returned to her own chambers for a quick bath and a change of clothes, discarding her Kinese dress and donning again the traveler's clothes in which she felt comfortable. Because she had risen late, she had missed the council held by the chiefs. She now watched them pour out of the chamber, their eyes downcast and glassy, their faces ashen. In her mind's eye, Chris saw them as a funeral procession proceeding down a ghostly crypt.

The darkly paneled walls cast the chamber and the corridor outside in shadow, filtering light in through narrow windows. The cabin's walls muted the sounds of the forest, plunging the common room into sobering silence, broken only by whispers. Heart pounding in her chest, Chris pushed past the retreating elders and advisors. Inside the brooding chamber, she found Chief Yuiri seated cross-legged, eyes averted and staring at the sunlight pooling through the window. Hugo sat against the wall, arms crossed. Chris's breath caught when she saw him, but he stared ahead, as if not seeing her.

Another man sat in the chamber, shadowed in the corner of the room. One-eyed, his hair dark draping over his cheeks. Geddoe.

The only other person in the room was Yun. The girl smiled at Chris as she entered. "We've been expecting you."

Chris froze, wondering what Yun might know. Had she seen what would unfold between Hugo and her? But no, what went on between them would hardly interest an oracle, much less the spirits, she decided. She advanced, ignoring Hugo for now. "What have your visions told you?" she asked. She could read disaster on Yuiri's face. The chief clearly struggled with what had been said at the council.

Yun slumped into a sitting position, and gave a deep sigh. "I have glimpsed the Destroyers' true aim. They seek to shatter one of the True Runes."

Chris paused, certain she had misheard. She licked her lips, thoughts racing. "That is not possible," she said.

Geddoe grunted. "I once thought the same." He hesitated, frowning as he chose his words. "The Destroyers have somehow learned about the existence of the Ceremonial Site."

Yuiri groaned, wagging her hand impatiently. "Explain."

Geddoe shrugged, leaning back against the wall and staring up. "In the Grasslands there exists several ruins of the ancient Sindar civilization. A people far more advanced than our own civilization. You have seen one such site." Geddoe glanced meaningfully at Chris and Hugo.

"One of these ruins is known," Geddoe went on, "As the Ceremonial Site. This ancient Sindar ruin hides a secret mechanism, a colossal machine. This mechanism is a weapon keyed to the elemental True Runes. If activated, this weapon is so powerful that it could destroy even a True Rune."

Chris felt a cold sweat pricking her back. Her head swam as she considered the implication. "The True Runes are the fundamental building blocks of this world."

Geddoe rose and paced a few steps. "The True Runes forged the world out of chaos. Imagine a blow that would shatter mountains… that would flatten the mountains, grind them into not just gravel, but a fine powder." Geddoe turned to fix her with a hard stare, then answered her unspoken question. "Fifty years ago, the Flame Champion lost control of his rune. I was there. The resulting firestorm burned an area miles across." He glanced at Hugo, who sat wide-eyed, staring back at Geddoe. "Now imagine such destruction, but on an entirely different scale. If the Destroyers succeed, the Grasslands will be wiped from the world."

Chris looked to Yun. "This is the disaster you have seen," she guessed. The girl cast her eyes down, her mouth twisting into an ironic smile, confirming Chris's words. She clenched her fists at her sides. "Right. How do we stop them?"

Geddoe folded his arms. "The Fire Bringers discovered the Ceremonial Site, fifty years ago, during the war with Holy Harmonia. The Flame Champion realized what power the Sindar weapon held. The machine's potential for destruction appalled him. We decided to ensure that the Ceremonial Site would never again be disturbed. The Ceremonial Site and the Sindar ruins surrounding it are sealed off by a powerful barrier."

"Where is the Ceremonial Site?" Chris asked.

Geddoe grimaced. "Buried beneath the earth. It can be reached through the Ancient Highway. We tasked the Lizard Clan with protecting it."

Chris glanced between the others. She felt lost. "Yun, you spoke of a great battle to decide the fate of Alma-Kinan. I cannot doubt that these things are connected."

Yun nodded. "I have seen the battle. It will come. Very soon."

"Why do the Destroyers seek to attack us here?"

"We have made a mistake," Geddoe said, "In bringing the True Fire Rune to Alma-Kinan." His brow knitted with concern, as if he battled strong emotions. "The Destroyers now know the location of the Sealing Rune."

Yuiri's face was ashen. She rubbed at her temples. "A generation ago, we of Alma-Kinan helped to bring about the sealing of the Ceremonial Site."

Chris nodded slowly, the gears in her mind spinning. "The Sealing Rune of Alma-Kinan…"

Yuiri gestured vaguely, as if uncertain of what to say. "The Sealing Rune is not merely a device with which to shroud the village of Alma-Kinan."

Geddoe grunted. "We tapped the power of the True Water Rune, wielding its powers in conjunction with the Sealing Rune of the shaman tribe of Alma-Kinan, to create the impassable seal around the Ceremonial Site."

"It is this barrier," Yuiri explained, "Which also gives power to the sheltering barrier that guards Alma-Kinan. And the barrier is weakening."

Yun approached and took Chris's hand in her own small hands. "That is why we must perform the ritual of soul-sending tonight. Before the Destroyers attack."

Chris felt a chill run through her. "Tonight! Our defenses…" Her mind scrambled for purchase. "The Festival… We are in no condition to fight!"

Yuiri shook her head. "The Destroyers threaten not just Alma-Kinan, but all of the Grasslands. Our only hope is the ritual of soul-sending. For the first time in a generation, we must make a sacrifice to the spirits, thus strengthening the barrier beyond their ability to break."

Yun had visibly paled. The girl stared down at the ground, her chest heaving with each breath. Chris felt sorry for the girl, for the burden placed upon her by her gift. Goddess, she was but a child! That she should help bear the responsibility for Alma-Kinan, even the Grasslands as a whole, was absurd. Chris knelt before her, hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry for burdening you with this, Yun. It is not right. But your gift…" She shook her head. "What can you tell us of the outcome of the ritual? The battle for Alma-Kinan?"

Chris felt Yun quiver beneath her hand. When she looked up, tears welled in the girl's eyes. "I'm sorry, Lady Chris. I don't know how the battle will end. I can't see past my own death."

A shaft of daylight breached the darkness of the cellar, its intense glare brightening the unshuttered window while leaving the room in shadow. The air in the cellar was cool and slightly damp. Regardless, with each moment the room warmed, and grew stifling in spite of the window.

Hugo stared at the sinuous shape hovering in the air before him. As he held it up, the True Fire Rune twisted and curved in mid-air, pulsing with an angry red glare. Rina sat opposite him, watching silently. Her features focused and blurred alternate as Hugo's concentration wavered.

"Calm your mind," Rina said, breathing slowly and deliberately. "The True Fire Rune is fury and devastation. Master Geddoe is right. The more anger in your heart, the more it will control you."

Hugo gritted his teeth. "How am I supposed to feel calm? It's like sitting on a keg of gunpowder, holding a torch." Sweat broke on Hugo's forehead. At Rina's instruction, he wielded the power of the rune to sustain a tiny flame dancing around the emblem of the rune. It was meant to teach him control. If he could maintain the fire at its most minute, without allowing it to blaze up or die out, his mastery of the True Rune would grow immensely.

The candle flared. For a moment only; then it shrank back, threatening to extinguish. So far, Hugo's control had proved lacking. Rina's body was taut with the tension of readiness. Her eyes stared through the fire and the rune, searching Hugo's face for signs of faltering. At any moment, Hugo threatened to lose control of his rune. What would happen then, he did not know. Would he unleash a firestorm? Raise pillars of flame? Incinerate everything around him in an explosion? His throat felt dry. Spirits, but he did not like any of those outcomes.

They had chosen the cellar as the safest place to carry out their training. Rina was a rune sage with experience of the True Runes, and the idea was that she was there to help guide him on his path to mastery of the rune. In truth, her most important task was to help contain the damage if things went wrong.

"You're angry about something," Rina said.

Again the flame leapt, and just as quickly was reduced to an ember. Extinguished. Hugo sighed, then raised another flame. He'd lost count of how many times he'd tried.

"It's nothing," he said.

Rina shook her head, the motion just enough to get his attention without lapsing in her study of him. "I you cannot learn to control the True Fire Rune, the rune will control you. You wouldn't be the first True Rune bearer to be destroyed by his own rune."

Another flame extinguished. Hugo cursed, summoning another. In his mind's eye, he saw Chris's face. Her warm cheeks he'd kissed, the feel of her skin against his as they lay coiled in the sheets… but this morning, she had been ice, her face cold. As if what passed between them had never happened.

As if he could forget.

"It's about Lady Chris, isn't it?"

The words startled Hugo. The flame in his hand ballooned, swelling to the size of a melon and continuing to expand. Hugo's hand stung with fire. He struggled to focus his mind and extinguish the flame.

The ball of fire halted, then began to shrink. The glow of a rune filled the chamber, competing with the red glare of the True Fire Rune. Rina's Cyclone Rune. The woman's lips were squeezed tight in concentration, her forehead wrinkled. A strong breeze filled the chamber, surging out from the flame. Rina was stealing the air, starving the fire.

The flame winked out. It left Hugo's hand smarting.

"Spirits," Rina mumbled, heaving a wheezing breath. "That was harder than I thought." She shook her head in bewilderment. "If you master this rune…" She let the thought go unfinished.

Hugo frowned. "How did you know?"

It took Rina a moment to catch his meaning. "About Chris?" Wiping her sweaty hands against her bare legs, Rina gave a secretive smile. "The look on your face when she's in the room… I've seen that look too many times not to notice."

Hugo leaned back, nursing his heat-stung hand. He sighed. "It's that obvious, huh. I don't know what to make of her… I…" Hugo hesitated, wondering how much he should tell the Kinese chieftain. Suddenly, he became aware of how informally he was speaking with the chieftain. He straightened his back, ignoring the pain in his hand. "Forgive me, Chief Rina," he said. "Your help is invaluable. We should be practicing, not listening to me whine about—"

Rina carried on as if he hadn't said a word. "Lady Chris will not remain here forever." She shrugged, an unaffected smile on her lips. "In fact, we might all be dead tomorrow, or the day after that. My advice is, don't leave anything unsaid. Act. Don't let regret fester."

Hugo stared at the hard-packed dirt, frowning. His mind was a battlefield of confusion. Chris had made abundantly clear that she did not want him. Part of him wanted to say good riddance to it all. If she didn't want him, then so be it. Let her leave. But another part of him screamed that his bitter feelings were all wrong, that the last thing he wanted was for her to leave. That part of him wanted Chris to remain at his side, even if only for a moment. Even if it was only as a friend, and never again a lover. Hugo stared at the emblem of the True Rune emblazoned on the back of his hand. He had merely to reach out with his thoughts to cause the symbol to flare up with life. The thought came to him then, that he could learn to control the True Rune, but he could never control Chris. He wasn't meant to.

The thought calmed him. He knew what to do, now. But first, there was a lesson to complete. Rina's eyes seemed to light up with understanding as Hugo raised his eyes to meet her gaze. He nodded. "Let's continue."

Wall to wall, the room measured ten paces. Chris had paced back and forth enough times to know the space intimately. She knew which floorboards creaked beneath the weight of her angry steps. She knew where the paint had flaked from the whitewashed timbers of the walls. She observed everything in detail, trying to distract herself from the things that truly mattered.

Thoughts raced through her mind. Yun's huge eyes, her pupils dilated and blank, her smile determined and unyielding even as she stared at the face of her own death. Chief Yuiri's words, the harsh and low tone of her voice as she rejected Chris's appeal.

She bristled at the memory. Once the full extent of the ritual dawned on her, she had been furious. Ritual, hah! She should call it by its true name – the sacrifice. The Kinese planned to sacrifice Yun upon their altar and use the child's life energy to restore the Seal of Alma-Kinan. Spiritual mumbo-jumbo, as far as she was concerned. But the Kinese seemed to believe it whole-heartedly. Chief Yuiri had brooked no argument, had given no ground on the matter. Only the spirit of an oracle, she claimed, could rejuvenate the strength of the Sealing Rune. Even Yun seemed resigned to it. But she was a child.

Chris found herself at a loss. She had pushed Yuiri as hard as she dared without openly insulting Kinese and Grasslanders alike. She needed the truce, badly. She could not afford to insult her hosts. What was the weight of one life on the scales, next to the fate of the Grasslands entire? And yet, the Kinese meant to kill the girl. The sacrifice of a child to serve your own needs – was there any greater crime?

Chris stopped, clenched her fists, gritted her teeth. The walls felt like a prison. Every avenue closed to her. So she was simply to offer up Yun's life? Stand aside while they butchered the child? A necessary price to pay for the safety of her people? She wanted to scream.

She could pace no more. To clear her mind, Chris sat down, right on the floor. She folded her legs under her, in the manner of the Grasslander chiefs at council. Drawing a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut, and gathered her thoughts. She needed to calm herself. To think straight.

So focused inward was Chris's mind, that she hardly heard the door swing open. She noted his presence only when he spoke.

"I came through the door this time," Hugo said. She felt his presence at her back, hesitating in the doorway.

Chris tensed up. Would they have a repeat of this morning's conversation? Goddess, she had hoped to avoid that. To walk away once had wrenched her insides. To have to do it again… But the alternative was worse – the notion of it impossible even to entertain. Chris steeled herself, praying that she could stay strong enough to resist him.

Twisting her body to face him, Chris gave a sardonic smile. "And still you do not knock."

Hugo smiled. It was a small, unsure thing. Chris thought back to the conversation in Chief Yuiri chambers, the moment when Yun had revealed the truth of the Soul-Sending. She recalled the grim look on Hugo's face. She had seen reluctant acceptance there. It hurt her that even he would not support her in this. But Hugo was Karayan. This was his culture. And what right had she, an outsider, to feel betrayed by his lack of support? She had taken him to bed, then rejected him. It was a foolish thought.

Standing, Chris beckoned for Hugo to enter. "I did not think you would want to see me," she said. Goddess, her voice sounded tired. She ran a hand through her hair. It was messy, was it not?

"No, I…" Hugo said. He cleared his throat. "I have something for you."

Chris's eyes were drawn to the object in Hugo's hands. He clutched something to his chest. A carved wooden box, his hands polishing its surface in an anxious gesture. Now, he held it out to her, passed it into her hands.

She hesitated before accepting the box. The wood felt cool, uneven to the touch as her fingers traced the elaborate carvings on its surface. The box was itself a work of art, but Chris sensed that the true gift lay hidden within. She made to swing the lid open in its hinges, but Hugo's hand on hers forestalled her.

"Wait," he said. He stood close now, drawn to her, and yet she sensed he held himself back. Out of respect, or out of fear of further rejection, she could not say. She was glad of it, either way. She did not trust herself, should he kiss her again.

"What is this?" she asked. She stared up into his blue eyes. She wondered if he could tell how fast her heart was beating. But no, she saw only a sense of sadness in his eyes, mixing with determination.

"I won't tell you to stay," Hugo said. "But I won't let you go. Not in my heart."

"Hugo…"

Hugo smiled, fiercer this time. Determined. His hand upon hers was warm and comforting. "I don't expect anything. I understand that you must return to Zexen. But I won't accept that this means there can never be anything between us. I want you. I'll fight for you."

Chris's eyes misted. She looked down. "It is impossible," she whispered.

"I'll find a way," he said. Without a trace of doubt. And in that moment, she found she loved him. She kept her eyes downcast. She knew that if she met his eyes, she would cry. Worse, she would let him kiss her. Though she was dying inside, words fighting to escape, she kept quiet. She stilled her breathing, calmed herself. The last thing she wanted was to give him false hope. Better to break his heart cleanly. Goddess, she would break both their hearts!

Slowly, Hugo took his hand from hers, leaving her holding the box. He stepped back, then turned. At the door, he halted for a moment, looking back. She did meet his eyes then. And almost lost control. Weak-kneed, she stared at him.

"If it's impossible," Hugo said, "Then we'll make it possible." She saw him swallow back emotion, eyes tearing away from her as if by force of will.

When he was gone, she sank to her knees and clutched the box to her chest. She drew a deep breath, feeling her body quiver. Fingers quaking, she pulled open the lid of the box, and stared down into the felt-lined interior, at the objects placed within.

She gasped. Tracing her fingers over the fist-sized objects, she understood the conviction in Hugo's words. We'll make it possible.

Chris slowly put the box down, rising to her feet. Hugo had followed his convictions, and now she must follow hers.

The full moon hung over the treetops, its disc aglow with brilliant silver against the cloudless night. Soft moonlight spilled over the glade, painting its contents in gentle shades of gray. A half-moon pond ringed the far end of the glade, its still waters glittering in the moonlight. At the edge of the water rose a three-tiered stone dais, like a platform overlooking the pond. On its top stood a carved pedestal, its surface studded with gleaming pearls. Above it hovered a shimmering orb that seemed to drink in the moonlight and the light of the torches burning at the edges of the clearing – the Sealing Rune. And there, at the base of the altar, Yun knelt in the short grass. Her back turned, her hands clasped in prayer.

Chris froze at the edge of the glade, taking in the scene. It brought to mind the serenity and beauty of the cathedral of Vinay, where she had come so many times to pray or participate in rites. But the rite that was about to play out before her felt like a perverted twist of the piety she associated with the setting.

Two dozen Kinese women turned to greet her, their bowstrings creaking as arrows tracked her. Each archer wore traditional robes, a feathered headdress weighing down her head. They lined the sides of the glade, arrayed in ritualistic fashion in a semi-circle centered on the altar. Chris was startled to see Yumi among them. The look on her face was apologetic, but she too brandished her bow. The iron arrowheads glinted in the moonlight.

"Halt," said a voice, at once commanding and almost quiet, serene – respectful of the sacred nature of the scene around them.

Yuiri strode to block Chris's path. The chief drew herself up, arms crossed, fixing Chris with a dark look. "You have no business here," she said. "Only participants in the Soul-Sending may enter the sacred glade."

Chris met Yuiri's gaze and did not back down. "I have come to stop this."

Yuiri's eyes narrowed, anger flashing within. "You go too far, Silver Maiden. We have tolerated your presence thus far, but now—"

Yun had turned and risen at the commotion. The girl wore a loose white robe, silver in the moonlight, and the oversized garment had slipped from her shoulders to hang from her arms. She looked so small next to the chieftain, and yet there was a quiet strength in her. She was beyond mourning. "Let me speak with her," she said to Yuiri. The request carried such gentle determination, it seemed a command impossible to deny.

"I cannot let them do this to you," Chris said.

Yun smiled sadly. "They do nothing against my will. I come here willingly."

"You are a child!" Chris suppressed her rage, fighting to keep her voice smooth. "This sacrifice, it is wrong. No child should be given this choice."

The girl was quiet for some time before speaking. When she did speak, she met Chris's eyes and held the gaze. "Not all children see their fates woven by the spirits." Staring deep into the girl's eyes, Chris felt a strange wonder at the depth within. She seemed so wise, her insight far outstripping her years. Goddess, when she looked into Yun's eyes, she almost felt the girl staring back into her soul. But she remained a child. And it was Chris's duty to protect her. No matter how precocious she may be.

"You say the spirits speak to you, show you visions of possible futures." Chris's mind worked feverishly, sorting the notions flashing through her consciousness. "You say I was brought here to do something important. Could not this, my objecting to the ritual, be that important thing?"

Yun stared at her for a time. Then a sour smile spread on her lips. She choked back laughter, but Chris saw tears glisten in the oracle's eyes. "Oh, Lady Chris. How I wish it were so."

Chris knelt before Yun, holding the girl's shoulders. Again, she felt suddenly aware of how small the girl was. How fragile. "Please listen to me, Yun," she said. "I do not doubt your visions. But even the Goddess's eyes are shut at times. The spirits do not know everything. Even if what you say is true, it still does not give us the right to sacrifice you. It is… evil."

Yun tilted her head, the question clear on her face. "Do you Zexens not sacrifice your lives? Give your lives for the sake of others?"

Chris flinched as if struck. "In war, perhaps—"

Yun made a sweeping gesture to encompass the glade. "Is this not war? My life will end so that others may live. So that many may live. Isn't my sacrifice worth just as much as the sacrifice of a knight who falls in battle?" The girl took Chris's arms, raised her to her feet. "A soul that's offered in the ritual will become a spirit and live forever. It's not an evil thing, Lady Chris."

Chris tasted ashes in her mouth. She shook her head vehemently. "You cannot ask me to believe this…"

"Superstition?" Yun finished. The girl hesitated, then said, "I have seen that you would come to me here in the glade. I have seen the outcome of this conversation, too."

Chris felt hollow, her breathing constricted. "What…?"

"You must let me go," Yun said, gently. "There is no other way." The girl's big eyes filled Chris's vision. She saw determination within. Unshakeable conviction. She knew at that moment that she would never sway Yun's from her course of action. But what's more, she saw such compassion in those eyes. Where there should be fear, anger, hurt, she saw only love. Yun was comforting her. Chris drew the girl in, crushed her in an embrace.

Vaguely, she was aware of Chief Yuiri standing nearby, silent, a shadow in the moonlight. Chris had lost. She had fought them, but she could fight them no more. She could not fight Yun. Gripping the girl tight, she quivered, choking back tears. She felt embarrassed, but deep down, some part of her felt relief that after all she had seen, she could still grieve for a child.

Slowly, they separated. Yun searched her eyes, though she knew the answer already. Chris nodded, sealing their understanding. It was a meaningless gesture, and yet it was important to the both of them. Yun turned to the altar, walked towards it. Each step seemed to carry the weight of a mountain. Halfway there, she turned.

"I almost forgot," Yun said. "You should know about your father."

Chris stiffened, straightened. "What…?"

Yun smiled. "Geddoe told you. We, the shaman tribe of Alma-Kinan, tapped the power of the True Water Rune, wielding its powers in conjunction with the Sealing Rune. That's how we made the seal on the Ceremonial Site."

Yun hesitated, then said, "The Flame Champion fought beside two companions who were also True Rune bearers. The True Fire Rune, the True Lightning Rune, and the True Water Rune. They were called 'the Triad.'"

Chris felt dizzy. Her skin tingled with goosebumps. "What are you saying?"

"The Sealing Rune upholds twin barriers. One here, in Alma-Kinan. The other at the Ceremonial Site. There, at the Ceremonial Site, the True Water Rune acts as the focus for the barrier. So the Triad made it. In doing so, they also sealed the power of the True Water Rune, rendering the true rune dormant, yet still granting its immortality. Over the years, he has visited this place many times, to check on the Seal."

"He…?"

"The Triad," Yun carried on. "The Flame Champion, Reldin, bearer of the True Fire Rune. Geddoe, bearer of the True Lightning Rune. And the bearer of the True Water Rune, Wyatt Lightfellow."

Chris felt as if a thunderbolt had pierced her. She struggled to breathe. "No… that is…"

"Your father is a True Rune bearer. He still lives."

Chris stared without seeing. Ever since her mother died, she had thought herself an orphan. Before then, she had lived for years with a mother broken by her father's death in battle. Her mother had perished from the loss of him, slowly wasting away in their huge mansion, wandering like a ghost at night through the halls and rooms where his presence lingered. His passing had stolen the sun from Chris's heavens. She had passed her childhood adoring him, missing him, struggling to grow in his shadow. She had joined the knights to make him proud as he looked down from the heavens. To think that he lived was… unthinkable.

Her father could not be alive. From anyone else, Chris would have rejected the claim as impossible. But as she stared into Yun's big eyes, hungrily searching them for truth, she once again saw no hint of deception. Chris worked through the facts. The body. She had never seen her father's body. But she had been a child, and her father had died in battle. They would not show his mangled carcass to a loving daughter. Would they? Captain Galahad had seen him die. And yet, he had never told the story of how it came to pass. She had pressed him for it, on several occasions. Always, he would defer the telling, holding his tongue. But why would he wish to relive the horror of losing his comrade in battle? Chris knew it could be difficult to recount such memories, especially with those who had not been there to see it happen.

The more she thought of the matter, the more she could see the cracks in the story. The more nagging suspicions she counted. One by one, these confusing facts were easy enough to explain. But a pattern began to emerge. Taken all together, these nagging suspicions formed a web of deceit. If Yun's words were true, they had lied to her. Her mother. Prion. Captain Galahad. They had all lied to her.

Chris felt cold. Her eyes had fallen, and she now looked up at Yun again, her breath coming slow and harsh. "Yun, where is my father?"

Yun gave an apologetic look. "He'd come here every few months. But now it's been some time since I saw him. When he lived among the Karaya, he went by the name of Jimba."

Jimba. A Karayan! Chris' mind reeled at the thought.

Yun reached out a hand and squeezed her arm. The oracle was looking up at her with such compassion, such concern, Chris felt a sudden stab of guilt.

"I am sorry, Yun. I… I thank you for telling me." Inwardly she wondered: Did you know all this time? But she could see how Yun might withhold the truth from her until this time. Knowing that her father was alive, would she have remained with the Grasslanders, fighting the Harmonians, pursuing the truce? Or would she have run off to find her father, no matter the cost? She could not say. Even now, she did not know what her next step would be.

Yun smiled. "I must go now."

Chris nodded, numbly. She watched the girl take to the altar. As she knelt there on the dais, facing the pedestal, the moon filled the dark heavens behind her. Looking up at the bright silver disc, Chris thought of the Goddess, and imagined Her radiant eye watching over the girl. The thought comforted her somewhat.

The assembled women took up a chant, their voices clear and high, lifting to the sky. A light rose from the pool. Like sheets of shimmering, dancing crystal. The trees stirred around her, seemed to breathe, to whisper.

The ritual had begun.

The two runes illuminated the faces of the circle of men and women surrounding them. A score of the Harmonian army's most powerful rune bearers stood there, eyes squeezed shut, drawing power from their runes and siphoning that power through the crystal staff in Sarah's hands.

Luc stared at the woman. The light of the two runes, the pale green of his True Wind Rune and the sandy yellow of Bishop Sasarai's True Earth Rune, mingled together like two lovers long separated, lighting up Sarah's face and tinting her white hair in jade and gold. The light of creation. The light of tyranny.

Sarah too had closed her eyes. She held her crystal-topped staff out before her, Bishop Sasarai's stolen True Rune hovering over it. With mind and magic, Sarah reached into the far depths of Alma-Kinan to grasp the source of magic hidden there.

Beside her, Yuber lingered like a cruel shadow, sliding the blades of his long swords against each other like a butcher sharpening his knives, quivering with anticipation of the approaching moment when his swords would leap from their sheaths and taste blood and chaos.

Luc had no love of bloodshed, but he needed to see that barrier broken. With the spell being woven on this night of the full moon, the shamans of Alma-Kinan stood a chance of sealing their sylvan sanctuary against intrusion, forever preventing Luc from reaching the Ceremonial Site. Luc had to have the Sealing Rune of Alma-Kinan. He had prepared for tonight with savage determination, ready to gamble everything on one wild card.

But the barrier of Alma-Kinan had proven resilient. Luc touched his temples. He still nursed a splitting headache earned in an ill-advised attempt to force the seal open. The bruises still spread boldly blue and red on his cheeks. Fortune had allowed him an escape before lasting harm had come to him, but in that moment of defeat, he had come close to giving up. He had been prepared to surrender his plans for an assault on the shaman village. But that was before Sarah made her breakthrough. Sarah, who always supported him. Sarah, who would never let him falter. Sarah, who would help him find peace.

Sarah's eyes popped open, and she began to trace patterns in mid-air. Where her fingers trailed, she agitated the very air and left shimmering traces of magic. Luc's heart pounded in his chest. There was pride, the swelling in his breast at the sight of Sarah's lips moving in silent murmurs as she deciphered the secrets of the Sealing Rune. But there was also anticipation. Yes, the anticipation of seeing the path unfold. The anticipation of a battle about to be fought. The anticipation of death, and of victory.

Sarah raised her staff. The light of the two True Runes swelled, peeling back the shadows from the faces of the rune bearers assembled in the circle. Sarah made a bold gesture, and then the air cracked. The air shimmered as something tangible was pulled into existence. It began as a mote of light, then expanded into a small sphere. The light of the True Runes pulsed balefully against the tiny globe. Sarah took the tendrils of the magic contributed by the circle of rune bearers and wove them into a web of power, funneling it through the globe. The pulsing globe stabilized, and began to devour the offered magic, growing in size until bloated. Crystal sprung up over the surface of the globe, like ice forming on a frozen lake. The sphere hung before Sarah, a five-foot-wide container of blinding light.

The barrier. Or rather, a representation thereof. A target, on which to unleash their power.

Luc seized back control of his True Wind Rune. He nodded at Sarah, and she returned the gesture. The sphere had healed over with crystal scales, no longer translucent. Luc drew power from his True Rune, and unleashed a concentrated burst. A fist of violent magic.

The air shuddered around them as the True Wind Rune's power collided with the representation of the Sealing Rune's barrier. The globe shook, but did not crack. Luc renewed his attack. He sent blow after blow raining upon it. Sarah invoked the True Earth Rune, unleashing its power in concert with Luc's assault. They battered the crystal-coated sphere. Hairline cracks appeared on the surface, growing and spreading with each blow.

With one final blow, the sphere cracked like an egg. A shockwave of energy burst from its hollow interior. The blast washed over the assembled rune bearers. Some fell to the ground, others staggered onto their knees. None were left on their feet. Except for the three people in the middle.

When his hearing returned, Luc heard the grinding of metal on metal of Yuber's swords. The dark knight was laughing, the sound uncannily like that of a hyena. Bracing himself, Luc turned to Sarah. "Do it," he said.

Sarah raised her staff and invoked the Blinking Rune.

The world grew hazy, indistinct. Luc felt a force pulling at him from every direction at once, then fall in on itself again as if imploding. The world seemed to spin along multiple axes at the same time before lurching to a sudden halt. His stomach turned as everything went white.

Luc opened his eyes to the glare of the full moon. An altar stood in the middle of the glade, before a crescent pool shimmering with mystical light. A girl knelt there upon the altar, her voice raised in prayer. Chanting filled the air, from a dozen or more voices. Over the water hung a crystal sphere. It pulsed with a brilliant light to match the face of the moon, as the life energy of the girl bled out in streamers of ghostly light, like bands of wispy matter fed into the hovering globe.

The Sealing Rune.

Luc stepped forward, invoked the power of the True Wind Rune.

A moment interrupted, an eternity denied.