"So this is supposed to prevent any more of Witach's brood from reaching Karse? And thank you for those nightmares, I definitely needed to know about those wretches," Naomi directed the last comment Ulrich's way, the Karsite captain merely raising an eyebrow and saying dryly, "You asked."
"The vrondi seem to serve a similar role for Valdemar – no impact on the weather imbalances, of course, but there would have been evidence of things going wrong along the border – fouled water, dying fields and the like," Kir tried to reassure her, "So it's unlikely your people will be facing them at all."
"Wonderful," the Valdemaran captain grimaced, eyeing the carved metal disc she'd ridden here to fetch. It was nearly Midsummer, the day this rite was to take place, and Kir was loath to leave a segment of Karse's border unprotected because his Order was shorthanded. Without a Firestarter to anchor it, the stretch of Hardornen border closest to Valdemar would have a weaker net than the rest, but it wouldn't be entirely unprotected. With Kir stationed here most of the time anyway, working additional purification patrols into the standard scouting runs would be manageable, so the lands wouldn't suffer for it.
"So all we have to do is bury it in the disputed zone? How obvious will this rite be?" Naomi still looked uncomfortable with the idea, but Kir well knew after years of collaboration with the woman that it had more to do with the typical Valdemaran's engrained mistrust of magic than any distaste for helping a rite of the Sunlord.
"This is modified from a standard circle, so we don't entirely know," Kir gave a wry smile, rewarming his tea absently. The four of them been in Ulrich's office for a little over a mark, looking over the maps and explaining just what they needed to have happen – Greich had bowed out so he could join forces with Corinth to terrorize their soldiers and Janner had quickly absconded Healer Joss into their own conference.
By now he wouldn't be surprised if the hill shepherds expected riders in blue and black to be crossing the dead zone without a care.
"With the circle, upon activation the line would be scorched into the ground, so in the most dramatic case, a barrier of fire will run across the entire border and leave a scorched line in the earth. When that line fades away, it indicates that the wards must be renewed."
"Doesn't damage anything to cover the line up though," Anur pointed out, having asked after this when they'd been working on the redesign, "So a liberal scattering of debris every so often to keep a literal line in the sand from being visible might be in order."
"Oh it will definitely be in order – nothing in the cards for this mess being public in Valdemar just yet?" Naomi snorted, raising an eyebrow at Kir who shrugged helplessly, spreading his hands as he explained.
"The best we can hope for is Midwinter, and with that being an exact anniversary of Solaris' Ascent…"
"Best to keep things focused on her and simple, to show stability and what not," Naomi agreed, eyes narrowing, "And I'm guessing one of these High Holy Days would be necessary too, for such a dramatic shift to be feasible."
"Definitely," Anur barked a laugh, "Though having it happen on some random Solsday would be hysterically funny, it wouldn't have the right impact or be as likely to work."
"So next Midsummer at the earliest," Naomi grimaced, "I don't think any later is feasible without some serious backlash against all of us. As it is, it'll be rough."
"Next Midsummer is the goal," Kir agreed, deciding not to think overmuch on the potential consequences of Valdemar's higher ups finding out just what the border units – what Anur – had been up to these past years. Half the reason they'd started meeting with the Valdemarans more regularly was Naomi's insistence that Anur become more than a name to her newest recruits. They were willing to lie for their Herald, but it was a much easier sell when their Herald was actually a person.
The joint scouting patrols also took a burden off both Captains, allowing them to spread their forces more thoroughly and keep the bandit problem beaten down. It wouldn't do for all their hard work in the beginning to slide away now that things were getting chaotic down south.
It especially wouldn't do for any mercenaries to be sent north. So long as there were no bandit nests they couldn't deal with, Solaris had agreed to leave the northern border to the Sunsguard and have the mercenaries focus more on the central and southern reaches of Karse, but if they couldn't keep people safe, they'd have to step around mercenaries as well as their own people. There were only so many ways a secret could be kept, and none of them wanted the extra complications mercenaries in the north would bring. Maybe when the alliance was publicized, if they were still around. But not before then, and given the current negotiations with the guild there would be mercenaries in Karse well before next Midsummer.
"Something to drink to," Naomi rubbed at her temples tiredly, "All right. Bury the disc at least three feet under the ground, somewhere in the vicinity of the Karse-Valdemar-Hardorn junction. We can manage that. Hopefully any wall of fire that happens will be short."
"Rarely over a foot, if it even reaches that height," Kir offered.
"I am going to have so much fun explaining this come next year," Naomi huffed, a rueful smile on her face nonetheless. "Bah – I'll get Joss to do it. He's the one that showed up insisting on getting in on the excitement."
"Worst come, you are welcome to hide out in Karse. The 103rd won't be replaced for a while yet, and Coronad's orders are due soon, so we have plenty of space to hide Valdemarans," Ulrich offered sincerely, and the captains shared a laugh. There had been quite a few offers of sanctuary – both joking and not – from both sides and at all levels. Kir didn't doubt that the Sescha twins had gotten verbal agreements from quite a few shepherds to hide blue-uniformed soldiers in their lofts if need be.
Hopefully it would never come to that. But it was good to know that if it did, burning everything to ash wasn't the only option.
***===***pagebreak***===***
"So once this ward is up, you'll be heading to Sunhame for your two weeks?" Balin asked, giving the ground near the buried stave one last stomp, shovel over his shoulder. Aside from Naomi's disk, the other twelve all had staves secured to them, mostly to make the discs easier to find when it came time to renew the protection, but they were all going to hang carved windchimes from them and some of the better engravers in Sunhame had put quite a bit of work into making the staves themselves an added focal point to the rite.
"Stopping by Aulch to let Rodri say his farewells, and then yes," Kir sighed, eyeing the stave's shadow. Almost noon, but Kari hadn't called to say the others were in position yet, "I'm just glad I got to miss Sunhame's Midsummer this year. I don't think I'll get out of the next one."
"If the Valdemar alliance is announced then? No sir, I don't think you will," Galen agreed sympathetically, "You'll probably have to be there for Midwinter too, what with that conclave business you mentioned."
Kir just grimaced, unwilling to admit that the scout was probably right. Anur and he had spent under eight weeks in Sunhame so far, and while he wouldn't say it was too much – it was too much. He still hated the city. Better, not as lethal, as poisonous, as it had been before Solaris, but still loud and dangerous in a way he really didn't care for. At least in the 62nd he knew what sort of threats to expect.
Thankfully, the Firestarters had started venturing out more and more as summer began, so he hadn't actually had to spend the last visit south in Sunhame for more than a day or two. Between checking on Lumira's congregation of converted Hardornens, finally somewhat stable if still devoted to the idea of Lumira being their noble landholding lord, confirming with Henrik that the purification of Peaks' Town was proceeding as scheduled, and keeping Tristan, Valerik and Colbern from murdering each other while they kept the fatlands cleansed, the few days in Sunhame catching up with Rodri and the others had been almost relaxing.
"Too bad the Enforcer couldn't have helped us with the digging," Balin grumbled half-heartedly, Kir chuckling as he handed over his own borrowed shovel, reminding him, "He can't use his fetching to dig right now anyway, Rodri is with him."
"Not reading the kid in? Probably a fair plan," Galen admitted, exchanging a glance with his twin, "Knowing a secret that big would put him at a lot of risk."
"Precisely. Also, if there's any resentment within the Order for not telling them about Anur in advance of Solaris' announcements, I would prefer it not affect him. He has nowhere to flee to for years yet," Kir grimaced. He and Anur had debated it a fair bit in the past moons, but it kept coming down to the risk for Rodri far outweighing the benefits. They weren't around him enough for Anur's status as a Herald to ever become something he needed to know – by the time Rodri was old enough to join them on rounds or whatever they ended up doing for his acolyte years, the alliance would be formalized and everyone would know Anur was a Herald. Or at least, it wouldn't be kept a strict secret.
Rodri was at enough risk being a Firestarter initiate, being Kir's initiate, and he couldn't justify adding to that for little to no actual gain when compared to simply waiting and letting him find out with the rest.
:Ready here,: Anur said, :Kari says it's a few more moments for the rest. Need my eyes?:
:Probably a good idea,: Kir grimaced, waving the twins back as he drew some purified silk cord out of his pocket. They had started designing this warding schema during his second visit to Sunhame – Tristan and Henrik had dealt with tainted waters near the fatlands, and the idea of Karse's most fertile land being poisoned was enough to kick the rest of the priesthood into action behind them. Even with some of the best minds turning to the redesign of this ward, they hadn't been able to figure out a way to incorporate non-Firestarters or require fewer than twelve focal points. If they'd had another year, even a few more moons for testing, they might have come up with something.
But there'd been weekly purification patrols using Lumira's congregation as a base, and they'd been necessary. This couldn't be put off any longer.
So Rodri was holding his own focal point with Anur, Kari and Aelius for back-up, along with the members of the 62nd that had ridden out to meet them. If Kir had his preference the twins would have been with them, having worked with Anur more extensively than the rest, but it hadn't taken more than mentioning the idea to Anur for it to be thrown aside. Getting him to accompany Rodri had been difficult enough as it was.
He again thanked the Sunlord for Kari. Explaining why he thought Aelius might be able to help Rodri avoid killing himself with magical backlash wasn't an option and without some form of backstop no one would have agreed to giving Rodri this job.
Explaining that he and Anur could see through each others eyes and occasionaly craft workings through one another's perspective would have been less disastrous, but still not ideal. Kari was covering for a multitude of discussions best left for later.
:Everyone is ready,: Kari's voice echoed oddly – perhaps the range made things transfer differently? :On my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark.:
As one, the Firestarters chanted. Kir let his eyes slip half-shut, old Karsite no longer spoken falling from his lips, flames sparking at his feet and curling around the stave, outlining carved prayer-patterns and leaving a golden glow behind, pulsing with the chant. Through Anur's eyes he could see Rodri saying the same prayers, hear Rodri's voice in time with his own – through Kari, through his Order – he could hear echoes of everyone.
Jaina's voice provided counterpoint to Colbern's gruff tones, Seras' precise accent countered Valerik's occasional botched vowel, Kavrick was listening to Maltin's flute, letting his apprentice's music keep time. From the mountains to the deserts he heard Fabron and Lumira and Laskaris, bracing the fatlands were echoes from Henrik and Tristan – at every anchor, every person, flames of golden-orange were dancing, building the base, the focal points, for a sieve. Nothing tainted could be allowed to pass – there would be no bishra to silence voices, no corlga dancing on blood-stained cobblestones – not when there was fire and will and faith to prevent it.
Kir let the string he'd knotted and tangled with spells and will drop into flame. He didn't need it anymore. The net had been tied – now was the time to fling.
Vkandis Sunlord, he prayed, he breathed, Protect this land.
Fire roared.
Flinging his head back, he laughed, feeling nothing but exhultation as the fire he had called, as the fire they had called, raced east – raced north – ran from spark to spark from edge to edge until for a brief moment – for the briefest instant – the entire border with Hardorn was alight. He almost imagined he could hear Captain Naomi swearing.
Be cleansed.
Kir lowered his arms and breathed, hearing the twins murmuring prayers behind him and he bowed his head, adding his own thanks to theirs and taking the final step – he hung the windchime. Heat curled around him as he did it, containing faint traces of every Firestarters' signature, and he smiled as he stepped back. A working this complex, this daring – this uniting – it was a wonderful thing. A fantastic symbol of what their Order could become.
Doing anything on this large a scale again would have to wait though, he noted ruefully, unable to keep himself from swaying a bit. Without the power boost of performing the rite on a High Holy Day they never would have been able to pull it off.
"Father Kir, everything all right?" Balin asked, catching his arm before he stumbled, a wondrous awe in his eyes even as his tone was matter-of-fact. Their practicality was worth their weight in chava some days.
"More than," Kir reassured him, "Just tired. That was an extensive working."
:Anur? Everything all right?:
:Rodri's asleep on his feet,: Anur reported ruefully, :Managed to catch him before he completely passed out. Kari says it worked – probably won't actually snap the control of soldiers invading, but it wasn't designed for that anyway.:
:A nationwide border for that would be horrifically difficult, and undoubtedly brittle,: Kir agreed, :No – purification of tainted lands and spirits is enough. Soldiers will have to be dealt with more physically. Traveler's chapel for the rendezvous?:
:Yeah, he's not going to make it back to Aulch in this state.:
"We're going to meet Anur and the others at the traveler's chapel – the one we stayed at on the way to Aulch," Kir reported, waving off the offer to help him onto Riva's saddle. Riva and he had worked out mounting while exhausted years ago, and this was far from the most tired he'd been while hauling himself into the saddle. That honor went to a disastrous few days spent dealing with Furies during his first year or so at the 62nd.
"Probably for the best," Galen agreed, strapping the shovels to his packs before mounting up. "Don't know that we'd make it to Aulch or the 62nd before full-dark – takes little over a half-day to get either place from here and it's been a full mark since noon."
Startled, Kir checked the shadows and sure enough, it had been a full mark. No wonder they were so drained. He was just glad he'd convinced the others that having someone there to watch their back – be it an acolyte, another priest or two, some of Lumira's Hardornens or members of the actual Sunsguard – would be a good idea. He doubted any of them were in shape for hard riding right now.
Thankfully, they didn't need to set a blistering pace. Riva's easy jog was more than enough to get them to the traveler's chapel within two marks, and Kir was fairly certain he'd dozed off in the saddle at some point. The sheer luxury of being able to do that – both in that he trusted Riva, and in that he trusted his company to have his back – was incredible. Especially when he compared it to the atmosphere in some of the villages they'd ridden through during various trips to and from Sunhame. They'd have to avoid the worst offenders entirely on their way south – he didn't want to let Rodri see that sort of that bitterness again if he could help it. Kavrick had planned to take a similar route on the way out here with Rodri and Maltin a few weeks ago; no one wanted the younger members of their Order exposed to that venom. Eventually it would be unavoidable, but until then they'd stick to travelers' chapels and back roads.
"We can take Riva sir, you'd best just sit down," Balin said, steadying him when he slid off Riva's back, clinging to the saddle to keep himself upright. Kir grimaced as he waited for his legs to feel less like they'd give out on him at a moment's notice, nodding agreement with the soldier.
"Agreed," he said, "I don't think I'm going to be alert much longer. Anur and the others are not far out, there should be room enough for sheltering all seven of us for one night – and it is summer."
"We'll manage just fine sir," Balin agreed, taking Riva's reins, "Do you need assistance getting to the chapel?"
"I think I can manage that," Kir snorted, before continuing honestly, "Not much else though."
True to his word, he managed to get inside and promptly claimed the nearest pew to pass out on. He'd slept in worse places, and this would keep him out of the way when the others got settled. But mostly, if he hadn't lain down he'd have fallen down. :Kari?: he called blearily, :Please make sure everyone makes it somewhere safe to collapse.:
:Of course Eldest. And congratulations on the working – it's truly impressive.:
***===***pagebreak***===***
"She's nearly four," Kir said, voice wry. Anur eyed the toddler in Synia's arms with mostly mock wariness, replying, "Once she hits four, it's a whole new situation. Until then, we'll stick with what works."
"And what works is you hiding behind me?"
:You do look rather ridiculous, Chosen.:
"In my defense, this usually works a lot better," he grumbled to all his audiences, Synia and Kir not the only ones to share a laugh at that.
With the Midsummer rite planned since the vernal equinox, arranging for Rodri to have a couple weeks to visit his family beforehand had been easy enough. Firestarters were traveling all along that border, Kavrick adding a few days to his and Maltin's planned route to escort Rodri home hadn't been a particular burden. From what Kari had relayed, seeing Aulch welcome Rodri – welcome a Firestarter – so readily had been heartening for them both.
Anur doubted Maltin would seek out his own family even with that though. Apparently he'd been taken when he was five and didn't even remember what township or village he was taken from, they'd have to consult the old records for that. It was somewhat disheartening, to see so few take advantage of Solaris' declaration that priests, initiates and acolytes could contact their families, but also understandable.
As Kir had told him once, no parent hoped for their child to become a Firestarter.
It was the one reality that kept him from digging into records of Kir's claiming, trying to find the Dinesh clan on his own and dragging Kir along with him. As much as he wanted the Dinesh's to be proud of Kir, to know that he'd seen evil for what it was and fought to fix it, to hear those stories of the Oathbreaker, of the Comb fire, and be honored that he was a part of their family – he knew that if it went the other way, if Kir's family looked at his robes with horror and disgust, that Kir would be heartbroken, but unsurprised.
But Sunlord, he wanted Kir's grandmother to know he still made knotwork Sun in Glories the way she taught him.
Rodri's farewell after a day spent recovering energy in a traveler's chapel had turned into something of an event. Apparently the fact he'd been out of town for two days to deal with the border rite (a literal wall of fire – a short wall, not even knee-high, but a wall that extended across the entire border for those few seconds – unbelievable) gave everyone an excuse to free up their schedules. It honestly felt like most of the town had turned out to see their initiate off. The fact that it gave Kir a chance to enjoy a town filled with people who didn't flinch, who viewed him as a hero, as someone to respect and trust, was a happy coincidence Anur didn't mind taking full advantage of.
Synia Greves was a marvelous coconspirator in that – when they'd come to Aulch with Rodri's first letter in hand she had been nearby and decided it was a good time to introduce Anira to her namesake. Anur's over the top reaction – shoving Kir in front of him with a cry of "Sacrificial offering!" while he ran for the horses – had become local legend almost immediately.
Kir greeting the young Anira in his stead had seemed utterly ordinary in comparison. Anur was quite proud of his spur of the moment plan.
"Father Kir – we'd best escape now, I think I've finally managed goodbyes from everyone, but more might show up at any moment," Rodri said, the way his sister was clinging to his hand belying that readiness, but neither of them were going to call him on it.
"Very well," Kir agreed, swinging onto Riva while Anur remounted Aelius. Rodri's father had his horse, passing his son the reins and giving the initiate one last hug before he mounted up, his mother wiping tears from her eyes even as she smiled.
"I'll keep writing," Rodri promised, Lira glowering up at him and saying, "You'd better! Or I'll get to Sunhame and tell everyone about that time with the squirrel and the fish – "
"I'll write I'll write!" Rodri laughed, "No need for blackmail!"
"Do you think we can get that story by holding his letters hostage?" Anur asked, grinning at Rodri's appalled look and outright laughing when Lira smiled slyly, the girl saying, "I could be persuaded."
"No, Anur," Kir said sternly, Rodri's grateful expression turning straight to outraged when Kir continued, "We can just exchange stories. I seem to recall an incident with a water pump that would be worth something."
"I hate all of you," Rodri grumbled over their laughter as they rode out with a last wave over their shoulders, words belied by the smile on his face.
"I'm sure you'll find stories to exchange about us eventually," Kir chided, "Just tell that catacombs story – that would be a good one."
"Father, half of your stories need enough of a background explanation they're not funny anymore," Rodri pointed out, "I tried explaining the catacombs bit, but mother just ended up furious at the idea of you thinking I should know how to live out of tombs and tunnels for a few months at a time – the acolytes thinking we were ghosts did get some laughs though."
"It's valuable knowledge," Kir said defensively, Anur sighing as he pointed out, "The fact that you needed to use it is the infuriating bit Kir. Not the fact that you shared that knowledge with Rodri."
"Besides, half the fun is in telling embarassing stories to family members," Anur continued blithely, "So Rodri telling them stories about us wouldn't be the same. Also, I never do anything that could cause as much embarrassment as the water pump thing. Or something involving a squirrel and a fish."
He manfully ignored the chorus of scoffs he got at that declaration, and patted himself on the back for managing to dodge the topic of exchanging embarassing stories with Kir's own family someday.
He was working on it.
Conversation remained light and silences remained comfortable for the rest of the day, and when they'd settled in another traveler's chapel a mark or so before sunset Anur was just looking forward to a restful night's sleep where he wasn't going to worry over Kir's near coma. Finding him passed out on a pew and entirely unresponsive hadn't been reassuring, and the fact that he hadn't woken up until the next morning had nearly set him pacing. It was only Kari's reassurances that he was fine, that the rite had simply taken more out of him, being the Incendiary, that kept him from doing something stupidly drastic.
As it was, both Rodri and Kir were still recovering, both of them near asleep on their feet after an abbreviated Sun Descending service. Anur stayed up a mark or so more, enjoying Aelius' company and tossing ideas back and forth about how to get Kir in touch with his family, before stretching out next to Kir and letting sleep take him.
Tar-soaked wood was piled at his-their feet, crowd of faces he'd never seen (backs he couldn't see past) filled his vision and a voice he didn't recognize (knew as a mentor, as a monster) decried him-them for sins, for being a demon-devil-wretched-heathen the screams were so loud
Anur jerked awake with a gasp, reaching for Aelius mentally and the Companion immediately responding with a sleepy, :You're safe, in a traveler's chapel with Kir and Rodri, no threats nearby. You're safe.:
:Thanks Aelius,: he murmured, the Companion just mumbling agreeably before sinking back into sleep. The two of them had gone through this routine too often for any true alarm to be worth the effort.
Staring up at the wooden ceiling, Anur waited for his heartbeat to settle and listened for Rodri and Kir's breathing, wondering at the changes in the nightmare. It hadn't matched the usual Sunbeam Brook memories-gone-wrong, and there had been some sort of double-perspective that made things even stranger –
Kir's breathing wasn't right.
:Kir!: he called, immediately reaching over to grab his brother's shoulder, cursing himself for not realizing Kir's frozen posture wasn't just him sleeping like the dead, was him tense and near shaking –
:getoutofmyheadstopitstopitstopit - :
The frantic mental babble cut off and Kir's eyes snapped open, gaze locking with Anur's and utterly blank for the few moments it took him to realize where and when he was. The moment he recognized him Kir collapsed in on himself, a hand reaching up to cover his eyes and he murmured, :Sorry for waking you, Anur.:
:Stars Kir, don't apologize! I'm glad I was able to get you out of that, I think some of it bled over to me anyway. Are you all right?:
:I'm – I'm fine. I haven't had that one in – in a while it'll take a bit to – to let things settle again.:
Anur grimaced, the way Kir was stumbling over his own thoughts was a bad sign. He hadn't seen him this shaken from a nightmare in a long time, not since the Cat of Fire incident and his own stupid questions about why Kir hated mindspeech so much. He'd never brought the topic up again, even if he fairly burned with curiosity some days.
:What triggered it? Anything?:
:Rodri's send off,: Kir replied immediately, :Is that what it's like?:
:…you're going to have to give me more than that Kir – is that what what is like?:
:When Heralds are Chosen – is that what it's like? For them leaving?:
Propping himself up on his elbow so he could see Kir's face, he clarified, :The atmosphere, you mean? The waving send-off?:
:They were laughing,: Kir said, wonder and awe and a burning, throat-catching grief echoing in his mind. :They were happy – content and proud Sunlord is that what we once were? How could we have ever let that disappear, have seen that change and not known that something was wrong?:
He buried his face in his brother's shoulder, inhaling through his own bone-searing fury. Havens, every time, every time, he thought he had a handle on things, had an idea of how things were changing, of how these changes would catch people by surprise – he would come across some new bit of wonder, some new startled second-glance, and be reminded of how utterly horrid things had been for Karse. How wretched the priesthood that had actually been, the priesthood that, by some miracle, produced Solaris, produced Kir.
Free will, it all came down to free will, he knew that, but damn it all that didn't mean he was any less furious at the idea of Kir living under the old system for so long.
:I don't know,: he finally managed to say, :I have no idea, Kir. But not all Heralds are seen off that way. Even in Valdemar, there are groups that mistrust Heralds, that don't see being Chosen as being an honor, as being something to celebrate. The Queen's Own – Talia, I've told you about her a bit – she was disowned for it.:
:Really?: Kir was clearly startled by that – startled enough to be distracted out of his own grieved wonder at least, and Anur would take whatever bit of comfort he could grab for his brother. :I could see – I could see someone not wanting to leave responsibilities at home, at someone begrudging the loss of a child, or even the loss of labor, but – disowned?:
:Holderkin.:
:Well you can't count them as reasonable people -:
:She's not the only one,: Anur interrupted, :None I know personally, but there are people who've fallen out with their families over it – either they won't use the status of Herald the way the family wants, they're being taken for service to the Crown ruins whatever plans they had – even just fear. Heralds don't live long, Kir. Not many retire. It's a rare parent who honestly wants that life for their child.:
:But that's not the usual.:
:No, it's not the usual. The usual is – proud, a celebration, a send-off with waves and tears and orders to write. Mine was that way.:
:Someday we'll have that back,: Kir vowed, Anur tightening his half-embrace and debating questioning Kir's own send-off. If Rodri's farewells had triggered a nightmare, it would make sense for that nightmare to be about his own departure for the priesthood – but Anur didn't quite dare ask.
Kir answered most questions freely, shared knowledge and stories with a weary sort of horror as he watched Anur's reactions. It meant that Anur didn't want to push – both because Kir answered so very many of his questions, and because he wasn't sure he wanted to know. It was Kir's past, his brother's life, of course he wanted to know, but at the same time –
If Anur was horrified by what Kir gave freely, how much worse would the stories he avoided sharing be?
:Someday you will,: he agreed, hating himself a little for being a coward, but also wanting to be able to sleep tonight. :You going to be able to sleep?:
:I'll lie awake for a bit, but I'll be fine. Go back to sleep Anur.:
:I'm not the one who helped ward an entire border,: he grumbled, but let himself settle back into sleep. If Kir was going to stay up half the night brooding, he'd need to be doubly alert tomorrow to take care of him and Rodri both. Best catch sleep while he can.
***===***pagebreak***===***
"Seemed the purification worked exactly as planned," Jaina reported cheerfully over tea, having ridden along the border from Ruvan to the Morningrays before turning towards Sunhame. "Tristan had just finished a check on areas that had been at risk before and there had been no change for the worse, and in some cases a change for the better. They're going to continue checking on things every few weeks, the fatlands are too central to feeding the country to leave things to chance, but so far it's looking promising."
"That's excellent news," Kir shared a smile with her before looking over the map they'd been looking over, adding the details Jaina had run across in graphite. Anur reached over and tapped Peaks' Town, avoiding smudging the old rune for tainted grounds as he said, "Overheard Colbern and Seras bickering about something, sounds like Peaks' Town is on track to be fully cleansed by this Midwinter – no word on if someone is planning on reopening the mines, but I'd bet within a year they'll be running again. They had good ore and the horror stories won't hold forever."
"I'm honestly surprised no one's tried yet," Kir admitted, "Though it's likely that if they had, the near cadre of priests that have taken up residence there would have scared them off."
"It's a job no one can deny must be done, and is the Sunlord's will in truth," Jaina shrugged, "As unfortunate as the source is, more jobs like that would be useful. Things are settling, true, even better now that we've passed Midsummer with no disasters on the most holy of days, but more jobs that no one could dispute the rightness of would be useful."
"I'm sure we can come up with something," Anur said encouragingly, looking between the two of them. "Redesigning that ward took some resources, got people thinking, that was good – what about other wards? Are there any other areas that could stand some reinforcement on that front? Even an overhaul? Etrius and Seras have been finding all sorts of hidden things in the Archives with the other scholars, maybe there are more caches like that to rustle up?"
"There are some relics that could probably be disposed of now, no longer needed as some last resort," Jaina said thoughtfully, tapping her mug with a nail, "Could be hard to argue, at this point they're legacy pieces."
"Some corpses we could stop venerating and chopping relic bones off of, that would be nice," Kir said dryly, both Anur and Jaina snorting at that.
"I'll think on it," Jaina allowed, "You're right, Anur, there must be some other jobs to be done. It's just a matter of remembering them. Other than that, nothing to report, so I'm off – I'll see you at the Descending service?"
"As usual," Kir agreed, the other First Order Firestarter giving them both one last smile before departing, mug in hand.
"She seems much happier," Anur said quietly, "Those first visits I wasn't sure she'd stick around."
"She thought Solaris had sent me to kill her," Kir replied, tone sour, "And she was more angry that Solaris had asked me to do the job than the idea of being ordered executed. No, she's in a much better place now. I think this warding job helped. Having Ancar around to provide an enemy we're truly meant to fight is keeping them together long enough to find their feet again, about the only thing that witach is good for."
Anur couldn't quite suppress the wince at that revelation. He'd undoubtedly known Jaina hadn't been in a good place when Kir and he had first arrived in Sunhame. But to find that she'd expected to be executed and only found offense in the idea that Kir had been asked to do it was something else entirely.
"Ah, Eldest, you're still here. Do you have a moment?" Seras asked, walking into the kitchen with Colbern and a scholar-priest Kir recognized in passing from meetings with Solaris but couldn't recall the name of.
"Certainly," Kir said, waving the three older men to seats, "I recognize you from meetings, but I'm afraid I can't recall your name."
"Ulrich, black-robe scholar now, former summoner," the man introduced himself with a genial smile and both Seras and Colbern were relaxed around him. Kir had come to mostly trust the assessment of his Firestarters – necessary, to be honest. There wasn't enough time for him to accurately assess every priest in Sunhame, nor did he have any real desire to.
"Well met. Kir Dinesh, and my Enforcer, Anur Bellamy," Kir replied in kind, though the man probably at least knew of Kir, if he was truly acquaintances and allies with two Firestarters already.
"Well met, Incendiary, Light's Shadow," the older man nodded to them both, seemingly entirely sincere, and while Anur spluttered, Kir could feel the grin spreading across his face.
"What," the Herald said flatly, Kir unashamedly cackling, dodging his half-hearted elbow to the ribs and saying, "Not so hilarious when you're the one with absurd titles now, is it? Advocatorus."
"No! That is not a – you made that up!" Anur accused, Aelius wheezing with laughter in both their minds as he whirled on Ulrich, "You made that up."
"I did not," the priest said, looking rather bemused, gaze cutting between a now snickering Kir and Anur. Kir couldn't blame him, he undoubtedly expected more composure from the Incendiary and his Shadow, but he'd been waiting for one of those titles to spring up for moons and he couldn't let it pass. "Nor did the Incendiary make up Advocatorus. It's an older title, considered to formally call on your role as a dispenser of justice in your Firestarter's name, but it is a title."
"Just wait," Kir said smugly, "Until you hear the rest of them."
"You've been waiting for this!" Anur cried, looking between a smirking Seras and Kir, "You – you knew about these titles months ago, didn't you?"
"I am familiar with the archives," Seras murmured slyly, "Recalling the placement of some more formal papers was simply a matter of encouragement."
"I promised him that I'd let him read the records I've been keeping first if he'd look into them for me," Kir said dryly, "Hardly a heavy bribe. And then I decided the only way the titles would get their full impact is if they were sprung on you. So for that perfect delivery, Brother Ulrich, I believe I owe you a favor. Now, what is this matter you were needed to speak with us about?"
"Advocatorus, what does that even mean?" Anur grumbled, before near visibly setting the absurd title revelation by the wayside for the moment. Whatever it was had Colbern losing all traces of amusement and going tense again, Ulrich and Seras both grimly serious and Kir felt his own amusement fade away. For it to come up now, near six moons after Solaris' Ascent – hopefully it wasn't drastically urgent, but it may well have been something put off until a critical point, especially if they were waiting to see how Solaris' reforms panned out.
"There have been questions regarding the reforms still to come," Seras began cautiously, only for Colbern to interrupt him with a scoff and drop his sheathed axe on the table, staring at the two of them and saying, "I'm a necromancer."
:Should I know what that word means?: Anur's question cut through Kir's immediate reaction of tense wariness like a knife, because he had a very good point hidden in that question.
:No,: he replied bluntly, entirely honest because hardly anyone knew what being a necromancer truly meant. Even he had bare scraps of an idea and it was all from biased histories read with his own eyes – who knew how badly they had been misrepresented or simply misinterpreted?
:Well then, time to break the ice,: Anur sent back, switching to speaking aloud without a hitch, "So I don't know what that word means – is it like the exorcist thing?"
Kir bit back his initial response – a resounding negative – but caught himself. He was reacting, reacting entirely to rumors and half-heard stories. If he thought about it, truly gave the question consideration, Anur's immediate connection between the two seldom-spoken-of sects in the priesthood was not as wrong as it first seemed, "I suppose it could be counted as similar, yes."
"I'm not as familiar with it as I am with the exorcist calling, I've never knowingly met one," Kir continued, offering a half-shrug, "But from what I've understood – it's not something you can truly choose to be, it's a combination of mage-craft and a knack for a particular twist of healing magic, from what I remember."
"Accurate," Colbern allowed, clearly stunned but shoving through it, "It's a manifestation of healing, but… twisted and merged with mage-craft. It's rare – I won't say unspeakably so, since there are three of us now, but it's rare and manifests differently in each person. Some can simply speak to ghosts, can interact with them as though they were living – others – others go further. The problem is that, like any magic, if it's not trained then it lashes out wildly – and the effects can be rather… distressing."
"You do not need to justify your existence to me," Kir said quietly, clasping his hands in front of him, "I know something of harnessing disaster."
Colbern nodded slowly, some of his usual calculation reentering his eyes as he said, "I suppose you would, Eldest."
"Now that the dramatics have concluded," Seras snapped, Kir noting Anur hiding a grin behind his mug with no little amusement himself, "We had a concern that merited telling you that. First – it seems that necromancy is not going to be declared Anathema, is that accurate? Secondly, we will need assistance in recharging the wards on the catacomb systems this coming winter, as numbers have dropped."
"Two of my brethren were declared Nameless this year," Colbern's grin was all teeth, "Leaving me the most senior of the necromancers in the priesthood. Seras has aided me with researching precedent, and Ulrich serves as something of a counterpart for the exorcists."
"All four of us," the other priest said dryly, Colbern retorting, "I only have three, Ulrich, and one of them refuses to do anything more than keep his abilities locked down."
"The wards have to be recharged annually, fully reconstructed whenever an anchor is replaced, but we were able to shore them up enough this past equinox that they'll last until Midwinter comes around again," the exorcist elaborated, "It requires four anchors, and at the moment we are hoping that another exorcist will be available to hold the North, but if we can't – Incendiaries have stood in before."
"Ah," Kir grimaced, "For the purification aspect, I suppose?"
"Quite," Colbern's smile was wry now, his hand resting on his axe, "I usually hold that post, with my dual-calling, but I'll be required to anchor the west this year. With the purification rite we just conducted, I don't doubt you'd be able to pull it off."
Kir suppressed a sigh. It made sense, then, why they had put off mentioning this. If they'd only found out that the wards were weakening critically at the vernal equinox, the purification rite would have already been in the works with a date set for Midsummer. Waiting to see how that worked out only made sense, and kept people from splitting their attention needlessly.
"Well – is that all then? I appreciate the advance notice, I'll have to refresh my memory as to ward anchoring rites," Kir finally said, not looking forward to the next load of research he'd be conducting. It would be interesting, new texts usually were, but he had no true passion for warding.
"I can get you some useful texts, Eldest," Seras offered, Colbern hesitating before continuing carefully, "You are certain that necromancy will not be declared Anathema?"
"The vast majority of the reforms have been announced already, if not fully implemented," Kir assured him, "Necromancy is not one of the things left. It is extremely rare and necessary, if relatively easily corrupted. Even one initiate with that knack not having anyone to teach them control would be disastrous – it's not an ability that can be ignored."
"No, the dead cats following you around with their skin rotting of their bones are a little obvious," Colbern agreed, Anur choking on his tea, spluttering, "What?"
"Raising revenants is one of the first indicators of a talent for necromancy as opposed to exorcism or soul-healing," Ulrich supplied, a rueful smile on his face, "Communication with restless spirits or shades of memory fall under both categories. An examination with mage-sight can help, but the easiest way is still considered follow the hysterics."
"I would suggest you work on that method," Kir offered wryly, "But have no worries of being declared Anathema collectively, just keep an eye on those that remain. Getting lower than three would make training any incoming necromancers difficult."
"I'm trying not to think on that too hard," Colbern grumbled, but the man nodded and secured his axe to his back, rising to his feet. "My thanks Eldest, for your time and your counsel. When you are next in Sunhame we will have to see about adding necromancy to our plans for Hardorn."
:No,: Anur said mentally, looking to Kir with wide eyes as the other three left, :We are not actually going to use necromancy against Hardornens – are we? It is raising the dead – oh sweet Sunlord they're walkers like Marcus terrified us all out of our minds with growing up! Mara thought you were one!:
:Well the necromancers aren't walkers,: Kir corrected, :The corpses they direct are. And no, we won't be using any of the dead as additional soldiers. It takes a lot of work to control the things – either a time-consuming ritual or blood-magic, from what I recall. It's a fine line to walk, and I'm honestly reassured by the idea that Colbern, a Firestarter, is the one to lead them. I doubt that was what his suggestion actually was – death-magic allows for some particularly powerful and discerning ward arrays, I would guess he wants to see if we can add any of those to our protective net.:
:Convincing everyone that a border-long purification was even feasible was difficult enough – now he wants us to convince everyone to set up a ward based on death-magic?:
:With the volume of death happening on the border in the north, it would be fueled easily enough,: Aelius commented doubtfully, :But – begging your pardon Kir, but I don't see how this is any different from blood-magic.:
:I second that,: Anur agreed, mental voice still hesitant.
For good reason, Kir thought, clamping down on his immediate surge of fury that anyone would dare think a Firestarter would harbor one of witach but unable to prevent his tea from boiling in its mug. Letting a breath out between his teeth, he inclined his head towards Anur and took a moment to thank the Sunlord that no one else could have had heard that question before replying, "It's unavoidable, that is the difference. No one who practices blood-magic can only practice blood-magic. They have some form of magecraft to begin with, and use blood-magic to give them greater power. Necromancy as a knack, as a talent – it simply happens. It is possible to work magic with the dead without that knack, but that is something considered extremely suspect – it verges to twisted soul-magic and blood-magic too easily."
"So if someone chose to be a necromancer, without that knack?" Anur asked, clearly rolling that idea around in his mind.
"They would be allowed, but very, very carefully watched," Kir wrinkled his nose before continuing, "I don't know why anyone would want to – much with exorcism, that was a very good comparison to make – it's not truly a venue of power. The last time a publically known necromancer held any true political sway was back during that Demonsbane story you told me. That had more to do with the man being a powerful summoner and charismatic to the extreme than it did his necromancy, though."
"Huh," Anur said, sitting back a bit as he considered that for a few moments. Probably thinking of the Demonsbane story, if Kir had to guess.
"I thought that guy was Hardornen," his brother commented, proving Kir right. Kir thought back to the song he'd heard once and raised an eyebrow, because Anur was right. Karse wasn't mentioned until the end, as the source of demons, even if the lord that had harnessed them was supposedly Hardornen. How vaguely prophetic.
:It's your history,: Kir retorted, taking a sip of his tea, :The way I interpreted it, the villain was a summoner priest – but we can always check the archives.:
:Could be interesting – but suspicious?:
:Not if we word the request right – I'm going to be looking into necromancer's responsibilities in the district, hunting down that warding rite. Stumbling into some historical information would only be expected,: Kir pointed out, switching to speaking aloud and changing the subject entirely.
"Spar after the tea?"
"Thought you'd never ask!"
