Sermon 19

Ayem continued her wanderings for a time. The Mother of Mercy raised up many from the dust, righted altars and offered incense. Her servitors aided all, and to this day one may see children playing with miniature effigies bearing their faces.

And Ayem paused beside the Sea of Ghosts, resting 'neath the shade of an Emperor Parasol. Her presence pressed heavily against the thin membrane of perception, drawing the Void Ghost. It walked as a priestess of a vanished faith, and came upon Ayem.

"What does a netchiman do here?" said the priestess, for Ayem still wore this skin.

"I am merely resting, elder," replied Ayem. Although she could see the Void Ghost's Sithis-shape, she feigned ignorance for there is power in propriety.

"May I sit with you?" said the priestess.

Ayem acquiesced, the priestess sat beside her. Together they stared out at the mist-shrouded Sea.

"There is a great temple beneath these waves," said the priestess. "With walls of coral, mosaicked in lattices of refracted light."

And Ayem pondered this. "Why do you not seek this temple, elder?"

"I am old and bitter. You still possess the audacity of hope."

Ayem smiled. "There is a greater temple still. Walk to the horizon, and there, as the sun melts and drips its heat onto the earth, you shall find…" And Ayem, who possessed a grain of Vehk's cunning, said no more.

The priestess gripped Ayem's shoulders. "Tell me what lies there!"

And Ayem kissed the priestess, silent.

"A coy rebuttal," said the priestess. "Very well, in my sea-lost temple you shall find a greater treasure than even this."

"Oh?" Ayem played at pondering. "Perhaps I should go and find it."

The priestess rubbed her hands in glee. "You must overturn every pebble in your search."

"I do not know," said Ayem. "I should journey to the rim of the world; I believe my treasure is more splendid."

Gnashing her teeth, the priestess shook her head. "No, no! There is nothing beyond the horizon but more sea!"

"How can I trust you? I shall be tiling the ocean, while you dance to joy's drumbeat."

"I am giving you this gift!" cried the priestess. "In this drowned cathedral you will find the sunken books and broken staves of sorcerer-kings. With them you shall make such a magic as to break time."

Ayem clapped her hands together. "You have convinced me. But I need surety from you."

"Which is?"

"We shall press our backs together, close our eyes. The first to look may go where they wish."

The priestess agreed, and they assumed the pose of the Yoke.

Ayem sat like this till her shadow lengthened and the water rose around her. She opened her eyes at a great cry.

"Mistress, mistress!"

For it was the Hortator, come seeking his Mother's countenance.

"Mistress," he said. "Why do you linger here alone, at the edge?"

For the Void Ghost had vanished. Ayem smiled at this.

"There are those, Blessed Nerevar who drink lie's venom so often they grow immune. To them, deception's flavour is sweet and welcome. This is the tragedy of the Third Corner of the House of Troubles, to ever fit the mould presented, treacherous as liquid."

And the Hortator did not understand this lesson then, but would through cruel experience, now, or in a latter life.

"Mistress, forgive me for interrupting your meditations, but darkness has fallen upon the city of Muat."

Ayem did stand, only then casting off the netchiman's cloak.

"I am ready. Yet first a question: How did you recognize me, in this ragged form?"

And Nerevar smiled. "A diamond smeared in dirt is still a diamond; wisdom wrapped in rags is still wisdom."

And Ayem made a mudra of benediction. "Blessed are you Nerevar-named-Hortator, who is my truest servant."

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.