The Silver Sphinx

 

“Of course things come back to you.

They just travel around the ring of Sigil and end up back where they started.”

Unity-of-Rings, deva

 

 

 

Third Lady's Day of Savorus, 126 HR

Rhys' hooves clattered softly on the marble floor and her wide, black hakama wafted gently around her legs as she hurried through the corridors and halls of the Festhall. She held five large sheets of paper in her hands and gave an unusually worried impression. 

Erin noticed this when the factol of the Ciphers entered the room that she had prepared for this meeting. "Oh Rhys, you don't seem to be in a good mood today, if I may say so," the Sensates' factol observed as she stood up and approached her colleague.

Erin, as always, was like a manifestation of the Upper Planes themselves. She wore a Vedic-style dress that looked simple yet elegant. The white undergarment of the finest celestial moon linen was so light that it almost seemed like mist or a cloud. The form-fitting red silk tunic she wore over it was elaborately embroidered with thin gold threads. Erin's copper-colored hair was tressed with several thin braids and artfully pinned up, with a few strands falling out at random, giving her appearance a casual and playful touch. Rhys placed the sheets on the table in the center of the room and held out both forearms towards Erin, palms up.

With a warm smile, Erin placed her forearms on Rhys'. "Lady's Grace, dear friend," she said, then looked to the table where Sarin and Terrance had sat, but both men had stood up at Rhys' entrance.

The tiefling woman stepped up to the Athar’s factol in his expensive dark blue robes and bowed. It was more than a simple nod of the head, it was an actual bow. Although they held the same rank in Sigil's society, it went against Rhys' idea of etiquette and decorum to greet such a powerful high priest with a simple nod.

"I greet you, Factol Rhys," Terrance said kindly, bowing his head.

Such displays of respect were apparently fine for him, as long as no one kissed his hand. Rhys knew he didn't like this common and widespread gesture towards high priests. Even though he must be more than used to it from his past as patriarch of Conclave Fidelis. Or was that the very reason for his aversion? She then turned to Sarin and offered him her right arm. The factol of the Harmonium bowed slightly, took her hand and indicated a kiss. Rhys liked his chivalry. His predecessor, Delazar, would never have thought of greeting the ladies among the factols like that. Well, Sarin didn't do that with Pentar either, but she couldn't be called a lady even with the good will of the Ciphers. The paladin, wearing his red and gold armor as he did on most official occasions, pulled back one of the chairs so that Rhys could take a seat.

"Please tell us why you have summoned us in such an uncharacteristic hurry," he said.

Rhys looked around briefly. "Shouldn't we wait until Factol Ambar gets here?"

Sarin frowned disapprovingly. "If you mean to say that Factol Ambar is late again ... You're right, he's as tardy as ever."

Terrance smirked, but said nothing as he took his seat again. Lady Erin also sat down and looked with obvious curiosity at the five sheets of paper lying on the table in front of Rhys. To her rescue, the door opened a few minutes later and Ambar Vergrove entered. The half-elf was elegantly dressed, wearing black buckskin boots, a red vest and a dark green frock coat.

"I'm a little late," he remarked in his carefree manner. "I apologize for my neglectfulness." He walked over to Rhys and kissed her hand, while Sarin sighed softly.

"You are almost always late, my dear Ambar."

The factol of the Godsmen circled the table to greet Lady Erin with a kiss on the hand as well.

"I'm afraid there's not much I can say in my defense in this case," he remarked with mock guilt. "I can hope not to be arrested for it, can't I?"

Erin laughed and Ambar gave her a quick wink.

"Ha, ha," Sarin replied, shaking his head, but with the hint of a grin.

The half-elf patted Terrance on the shoulder. There was no one else in all of Sigil who greeted the powerful high priest of the Great Unknown in such a casual manner, but Terrance and Ambar were good friends and the Athar's factol didn't seem to take offense. Ambar indicated a formal bow to Sarin before taking his seat and looking to Rhys.

"Dear colleague, your message had such an urgent undertone that I'm not used to hearing from you. What's going on?"

Rhys pointed to the five pages of paper in front of her. "Jana had a vision. As she is very good at drawing, she captured the images she saw on paper and gave them to me when the Chosen met in the Great Gymnasium. They have set off on an important mission to Elysium, so I agreed to show you these drawings." She spread the sheets out on the table one by one. "And we should look at them carefully, because this is about us."

Rhys sat back and watched the other factols closely as they studied the drawings. Surprise and concern were apparent on the faces of Sarin, Erin and Ambar. Only Terrance remained calm, which led Rhys to assume that he knew the pictures. It was not surprising that Jana had already shared her vision with her factol.

"Would anyone like to comment?" Rhys asked matter-of-factly.

"Like to comment?" Ambar lifted his head and looked at the factol of the Ciphers. "Sounds like we should comment on a bill in the Hall of Speakers. By the Lady, Rhys, I have no idea how to comment on this ..." He pointed to the drawing of himself.

Terrance folded his hands and placed them on the table in front of him as he leaned back. "As Jana has already shown me these pictures and I am therefore less surprised than the others, I am happy to make the start." His deep voice sounded calm; as always, he was an island of serenity in an ocean of troubled emotions. It was in remarkable contrast to the subject of the drawing that showed him: with his robe torn and blood on his face, lips and temples, he was on his hands and knees. He was bound to the ground with chains on his wrists and ankles, in front of what seemed to be a dark altar.

Sarin tore his gaze away from the drawing and looked at Terrance. "Now I'm curious. Is it something from your past?"

"Partly, it seems to me." Terrance pointed at the drawing. "The altar looks familiar. It's been over twenty years, so I can't say with complete certainty, but I think it's the altar in the temple of Chemosh in the gate town of Curst."

"This is the temple you desecrated to become factol of the Athar," Rhys stated matter-of-factly.

"Exactly." Terrance nodded and glanced briefly at Sarin, who seemed less than enthusiastic.

"Oh yes, you and your faction like to desecrate sacred artifacts or even entire temples," the paladin stated coolly. "I always try to push that to the back of my mind when we meet, but just now you reminded me very clearly."

Terrance remained calm, only the look in his dark blue eyes revealed that Sarin's words annoyed him. "Factol Sarin," he replied, "please don't act like you're particularly upset that I desecrated the temple of an evil god of undeath."

The paladin waved him off. "It doesn't. The fact that you chose this particular temple speaks for you, after all. I just find this custom in general completely ... despicable."

"Gentlemen," Rhys intervened, mediating. "We're not here to have a factional philosophical debate. For once, there's a more important topic today."

Sarin raised his hands defensively. "I'm quiet. Please, Terrance, go on."

"Basically, everything has been said." The Athar's factol raised his shoulders. "I assume this scene is taking place in the Chemosh temple in Curst, which I desecrated twenty-three years ago."

Ambar leaned forward and pointed at the drawing. "But this ... didn't happen back then, did it? So it's not the past that we're seeing here?"

"No," Terrance replied. "Thanks to the Great Unknown, I've never been in a situation like this before. So Jana's vision here probably shows the future, even if I don't like what I see."

"Is it true what they say?" Erin asked, eyeing the factol of the Athar tensely. "That the priests of Chemosh have not yet succeeded in consecrating the temple to their god again?"

A smile flitted across Terrance's lips, a strange mixture of modesty and satisfaction in his gaze as he replied: "Yes, it's true."

"And how the hell did you do that?" Sarin's expression showed that he was not comfortable with the answer given. "I mean, Chemosh has many and powerful priests and you have never been in Curst since that time, have you? Why can't they remove the influence of your desecration despite their best efforts?"

Terrance's smile remained as calm and modest as before. "The power of belief makes possible a lot of things, Sarin."

The factol of the Harmonium leaned back with his arms folded and scrutinized Terrance. He couldn't hide a certain unease.

Ambar continued the reasoning. "To consecrate this temple to Chemosh again, my friend ... Would you be needed in person?"

He looked worriedly at Terrance who nodded matter-of-factly. "I think so. Maybe my blood. Maybe even my life. I can't say for sure." He looked down at his hands before folding them on the table again.

"That doesn't sound good, Terrance," said Lady Erin, "What do you want to do now?"

"What should I do about it?" The Athar's factol remained calm. "It's possible that Jana sees a fixed future that we can't escape anyway. And it will just happen."

"No, no," Ambar replied with unusual vigor. "I won't simply accept this. We're not going to just passively let anything come at us ... or overrun us!"

The half-elf's remark apparently came just in time for Terrance to divert attention to another topic. "And what are you thinking of this, my friend?" The Athar's factol pointed to the drawing that had Ambar as a motif. "Can you tell us something about this scene? Or what could be done about it?"

Ambar sighed as he realized that all the attention was now focused on him. He took another quick look at the drawing, then leaned back. "I haven't the slightest idea what this could mean," he explained. "It looks unpleasant and I don't like it. But I can't make sense of it."

Rhys took another closer look at the sheet in question before remarking in her fact-bound way: "You're obviously in pain. Judging by your posture, you may also be bound. And what that dark-cloaked figure is holding ... It could be a very thin knife or a long needle. Perhaps you are being tortured."

"Thank you, Rhys," Ambar replied, not very pleased. "I interpreted it in a similar way. But your wonderfully factual and concise description has made it even more impressive."

Sarin also looked at the picture attentively. "This is just as concerning as the vision Jana had about Terrance. Tell me, Factol Ambar, have you received any threats lately?"

The half-elf had to grin. "You mean ones that go beyond the usual nonsense that every factol is constantly confronted with?"

Sarin's smile showed that he knew precisely what Ambar was talking about. "Yes, exactly."

To everyone's surprise, the half-elf became more serious again and hesitated briefly. "No," he then replied. "No, none."

Sarin scrutinized him with inquiring raised brows and the factol of the Godsmen straightened up in his chair. "What? Are you verifying whether I'm telling the truth? Sarin, you have no right ..."

"No." The paladin raised his hands defensively. "No, I didn't. Please, Ambar, you would have noticed."

The half-elf's green eyes were uncharacteristically serious. "Had I?"

"Yes," Sarin replied sincerely. "You've just never sensed it before because I've never tried. I know that it is not for me to treat other factols of Sigil like imprisoned suspects. And therefore I do not presume to do so."

Ambar relaxed again. "I'm sorry, Sarin. I didn't mean to insinuate anything. The whole thing is just ... Let's forget about it, shall we?"

The factol of the Harmonium didn't seem upset. "It's all right. - So you can't say anything about the scene? No clue as to what it might even be about, like Terrance?"

Ambar sighed, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, no. I wish I could make sense of it. Being so completely in the dark makes it even more sinister. But I have no idea what this scene is supposed to tell me or what it's supposed to show."

The factols were silent for a moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts, then Erin gently nudged Sarin. "And you?" She pointed to his drawing. "Do you have a clue? You are also in a position that doesn't seem quite typical for you."

"I suppose you're right, Lady Erin." Sarin glanced at the drawing, which showed him kneeling on the ground in front of an elderly woman and kissing the hem of her dress. His two scimitars lay in front of him. "It's not an event from my past either. But I have no idea what the scene is supposed to show."

Ambar tilted his head slightly as he looked at the picture. "Somehow it seems more like a voluntary gesture."

"At least, unlike you and Terrance, Sarin is neither bound nor injured," Rhys agreed. "But of course there could also be some kind of coercion that is not visible in the vision."

The factol of the Harmonium rested one elbow on the table. "Off the top of my head, I would say that I would not perform such a gesture voluntarily. But I don't want to stick my neck out too much. Who knows what the future holds?"

"What about Lady Juliana?" asked Terrance.

Sarin raised his head. "What do you mean?"

"Would this gesture be conceivable towards her? On a voluntary basis? Could she be the woman in the vision?"

Lady Erin leaned forward to take a closer look at the drawing. "Hm ... Jana drew very well, but the facial features aren't clear enough to tell, I think."

Sarin took another long look at the picture, then raised his shoulders. "Hard to say. Possibly, under certain circumstances, I would be willing to do this if it's Juliana. But whether she is the woman who appears in the vision, only Jana will be able to answer. It would probably be best if I showed her a picture of Lady Juliana when I get the chance and asked her about it."

"Yes." Rhys nodded. "I don't think anything else will get us anywhere. The vision about you is the only one that shows a recognizable other person. The figure near Ambar is hooded, so we won't get much further. But if Jana could tell us who is the woman you're kneeling in front of, that would certainly help."

Sarin turned to the Athar's factol. "With your permission, Terrance, I will ask Jana about this."

"Agreed," replied the high priest. "But please be gentle and don't scare her. She's not quite ... stable."

"Don't scare her?" Sarin raised his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Come on." Terrance smiled mildly. "You know very well that you have an intimidating effect on many people. I understand, of course, that your office often requires it. Just be tactful, will you?"

"Of course I will," Sarin replied and then looked at Erin and Rhys, "But let's turn away from your doubts about my sense of tact and towards the two ladies in our group." He pulled the page showing Erin a little closer to study it once more. Then he looked at the factol of the Sensates. "Do you have something to tell us, my lady?"

Erin's full lips formed an amused smile as she crossed both hands in front of her cleavage in a gesture of innocence. "Sarin, the tone in which you say that and the way you look at me make it hard not to feel like I'm being interrogated."

The paladin picked up on her ironic tone as he replied. "Honored Erin, I promise, should it ever come to that, I will be just as courteous and polite as I am now."

Rhys' gaze slid silently but steadily back and forth between the two. There was no mistaking that Erin sometimes approached the factol of the Harmonium with a certain flirtatiousness that was an elusive gray area between tentative teasing, friendly playfulness and subtle advances. Sarin, on the other hand, responded to the beautiful woman with a gallant chivalry that left nothing to be desired in terms of social etiquette. Rhys was aware that this kind of interaction between the two was only possible because Erin and Sarin's wife Faith were good friends. Still, it had already led to a few rumors in Sigil. On the other hand, there had always been gossip in the Cage. It was enough that a man like Sarin and a woman like Erin had a brief private conversation before a meeting in the Hall of Speakers and people started to spin a yarn.

The factol of the Sensates now looked at the drawing again. "It looks like ... an eventful evening," she finally remarked.

"Yes." Terrance smiled with amusement. "That's one way of putting it."

Sighing, Erin looked at him. "Seriously, Terrance, I have no idea what we are seeing here. I'm holding a dagger, yes. My dress is stained, that's true. But is it perhaps just wine? Or is it blood? Mine? I don't seem to be hurt, though. Someone else's blood?" She lifted her delicate shoulders. "If so, what could drive me into it? I daresay I would have a good reason should I turn a dagger on anyone."

"I think so too," Ambar supported her. "And the future could well bring reasons for this, given what we've got ourselves into."

Sarin gave Erin a warm smile. "Ambar is right. I think you are a woman who would not take such steps for no reason."

Rhys also bent over the drawing again. "You look relieved in the picture. Or rather sad? Hm, hard to say ... But something tells me that it's about something old. Something from your past, not the future."

"What makes you think that?" Erin asked in amazement.

Rhys was as calm and inscrutable as ever. "Just a vague feeling. Blame it on my connection to the Cadence of the Planes."

"And what does the Cadence of the Planes say about this?" Sarin turned the fifth sheet towards her, showing her blindfolded in the snow.

Rhys' face remained dispassionate. "That, in turn, is something that relates solely to the future."

"Can you perhaps elaborate a little on that?" Terrance asked matter-of-factly.

Again, the factol of the Ciphers leaned forward briefly. "I can add that I'm not normally dressed like this, especially not when it's snowing. So I think it's an exceptional and extreme situation."

Ambar laughed out loud at this remark and Sarin gave him a reproving look. The half-elf cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but ... Come on, that was really funny."

Erin smiled too, while Rhys looked at Ambar, unperturbed. "It was a completely serious contribution to the current topic." The brief smile that quickly flitted across her lips like a shadow, however, contradicted her claim.

"Seriously, Rhys," Sarin remarked. "If you have any idea about this, you should tell us. We should try to support each other in any way possible. No one here at the table falls into the category of competitors I'd like to see crossing the Styx."

Rhys became serious again. "Well said, Sarin, and I believe you. But I really have no clue. Jana's vision is a mystery to me. I hope that the Cadence of the Planes will soon give me some indication. But that's all I can say."

"Well then," Terrance remarked. "I guess we really can't find out any more for the time being. The altar of Chemosh and a woman we don't know yet ... those are the only clues."

"Let's try to find out who the woman is," Erin said. "Let's ask Jana about possible details of these visions when she returns from Elysium."

And so this unusual meeting in the Civic Festhall ended without any deeper insights, but with a feeling of closeness. And although this feeling may have been triggered by less than pleasant visions, Rhys still appreciated the fact that these events brought them closer together. Because one day, she knew, they would desperately need this bond.