The Silver Sphinx

 

“Work on the Xaositect 'spoke' has almost come to a complete stop. The reason for this is a fierce dispute among the workers over the question of whether the spoke should be painted during construction or whether it should be completed first and then painted. The Xaositects seem to be almost evenly divided on this question, and while the deliberations continue, work on the project has been stopped by Factol Ambar. The dispute has even partially degenerated into open violence among the Xaositects. Harmonium patrols are working overtime to bridle literally hundreds of thugs around the construction site. Meanwhile, the Revolutionary League has taken responsibility for the dispute in an anonymous note."

Report in SIGIS

 

 

Third Clerk Day of Savorus, 126 HR

After saying goodbye to the newborn Abaiel as well as Elyria and Lorias, the Chosen prepared to leave the Labyrinth of Accord. Although the room in which Abaia’s and Ybdiels' wondrous merging had taken place apparently formed the center, the way out was much shorter than the way in. This confirmed Morânia's suspicion that the labyrinth was mutable and adapted to the requirements of a group or task by redesigning itself. Some of the heavenly beings they had encountered before entering the labyrinth were still waiting at the entrance. Among them were the per Dargus and the beloved of Valarian, who warmly congratulated them on passing the trials. The Guardians of Balance had also waited for them to wish them well on their further journey, especially with regard to the Prophecy. And finally, Kria and Romar were there, in eager anticipation of how the story of the deva and the bebilith might have ended. The two listened intently to the Chosen’s tale and assured them that they would tell their children and, one day hopefully, their grandchildren, about these wondrous events again and again. When the story had been duly told and all the heavenly beings had said goodbye, a velvety, violet twilight was falling on the blooming orange grove. They spent the balmy night without erecting a tent, simply under the wonderful starry sky of Elysium. Knowing that, at least for this moment, all was well and they needed no guards, they fell into a deep, incomparably restful sleep with pleasant dreams. The next morning, they had breakfast amidst the blossoms falling from the fragrant orange trees and then made their way back to the Conclave Fidelis to return the Chalice of Peace. The journey along the shores of the Lake Serene and through the Ornwood was pleasant and surprisingly short – the travelers’ way probably accounted for their actions in the Labyrinth accordingly. So they reached the monastery in the early afternoon of the same day. However, Sgillin decided to wait in front of the temple while the others spoke with patriarch Cebulon. As much as the half-elf appreciated the beauty of Elysian nature, all the encounters with high-ranking, heavenly or blessed beings and personalities of the last days seemed to have been enough for him for the time being. Morânia had assumed that Jana would also wait at the gates, but to her surprise, the sorceress went towards the entrance with them. The bal'aasi looked at her inquiringly.

Jana cleared her throat. “I would like to ask Cebulon a favor, if I may.”

She had no intention of picking a fight with the Athar, at least not at that moment, but still, Morânia couldn't help but give a small grin. ”I won't stand in the way ... Lost One.”

“Thank you …” Jana hesitated a little, but then turned resolutely to the door and entered.

They received a friendly welcome and Morânia handed the Chalice of Peace over to an elderly monk, so that it might be kept safely in the Conclave’s rooms again. Kiyoshi had carried the magic glass case in which Abaia had transported the fox-shaped Ybdiel and entrusted it to monastic community. Since they were known, they were admitted without much ado to the patriarch. Once more they stood in the temple's sanctum, that was painted with stars and nightingales, before the throne that had once been Terrance's. Cebulon beckoned them kindly to come closer, and as at the first meeting, all except Jana bowed before him. But the patriarch stood up from his throne, came a few steps toward them, and immediately motioned to them to rise – except for Jana, of course, whom he gave a meaningful smirk.

“I ... don't kneel before my factol either,” the sorceress explained. ”And I would surely incur his disapproval if ... I did it before you.”

Cebulon smiled indulgently. “It's all right. I know that the Lost are a bit ... special. If only I knew what drew Terrance to them.” He allowed himself a short sigh, but then looked at them in a friendly manner. “The news of your mission has already reached us. Word spread quickly. And I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart! That was a very noble deed.”

The Chosen smiled and bowed gratefully. “You are very kind, Magnificence,” Morânia replied. ”But we only did what we thought was right.”

“You have certainly made friends here in Elysium,” Cebulon stated cordially.

Morânia nodded, but since Jana had announced that she had a request to Cebulon, she remained silent and looked expectantly at the sorceress.

The latter took a deep breath and actually smiled with relief at the patriarch's words. Then she apparently plucked up her courage. “I ... um ... may I make a request?“ she turned to Cebulon. “Or ... well, better to say an invitation.”

The high priest raised his silver-white eyebrows. “Now I'm curious.”

“To Sigil, to our temple,” the sorceress explained, and Morânia tried not to look too horrified. “We will provide you with more than adequate accommodation, and I will be at your service as your personal servant during your stay in the Cage, so that you lack for nothing. And I am sure that Factol Terrance ... will be very happy to take the time to show you the temple and to tell you about its history and the history of our faction. You ... said yourself that you were only too eager to understand his decision.”

Morânia gave Jana a skeptical look and out of the corner of her eye she saw that Naghûl's expression was also doubtful.

Cebulon, on the other hand, studied the Athar for a while, and the expression in his eyes was difficult to interpret, but seemed most likely to be thoughtful. “That's a remarkable invitation,“ he said, serious. “Are you even authorized to offer it?”

Jana blinked, apparently surprised by the question, and thought for a while before answering. “Yes ... yes, I am ... um, sure.” She sounded anything but convinced, however.

Cebulon gently raised his eyebrows. “I see. I must admit, it would never have occurred to me. And I can't imagine that I would be welcomed in the Shattered Temple. Although, of course, I have to admit that I would love to see my old friend Terrance again.”

“I ... well, I think Terrance would welcome you,” Jana replied. “But, well ... you don't have to decide right away. Take the ... the invitation remains as long as ...” She got tangled up in her words and fell silent.

Morânia sighed inwardly. Inviting the high priest of a deity to the headquarters of the Athar without first checking with the factol ... Jana was always good for a surprise.

Cebulon seemed even more thoughtful now and then nodded. “Well, thank you. I will think about it.”

“That's far more than I had hoped for,” Jana replied with a smile. “Thank you.”

The patriarch then looked at the others. “Is there anything else that my temple or I myself can do for you?”

Jana shook her head. ”I am very grateful that you have listened to me and I don't want to steal any more of your time.”

Morânia, Lereia and Kiyoshi also shook their heads, but Naghûl cleared his throat. “Um ... yes, actually. There is a small matter. Well, as you know, I am a Sensate, Magnificence. And I have had a wonderful experience, perhaps almost unique in the multiverse. So I wanted to ask if I – or rather we – could have a souvenir of the temple. A lot has happened here and I'm a bit sentimental about it.”

Cebulon smiled. “You Sensates are an interesting bunch. But of course there's nothing wrong with that.” He thought for a moment. “Wait, I think I have something.” He went to a small cabinet made of light gold wood and took out a narrow casket, with which he came back. He opened it and handed out a beautiful brooch made of white gold to each of them except Jana. It had the shape of a star and was decorated with elaborate engravings. “These are sacred amulets of Mishakal, which we offer as a sign of thanks or blessing,” he explained.

Naghûl accepted it excitedly and curiously and bowed deeply. ”It's beautiful. Thank you!”

Morânia, Lereia and Kiyoshi also accepted the gift with a smile and bowed in thanks.

Cebulon nodded kindly and then, more seriously, looked at Jana. “I don't assume that you want one?”

“I ... don't assume that you would like what I would do with it,” the Athar replied after a brief hesitation.

The patriarch closed the box again. “Probably not,” he replied, more reserved than before.

Morânia gave Jana a reproving look, and the sorceress looked a little ashamed. “Please excuse me.”

“At least you're honest,” Naghûl came to her aid.

Cebulon sighed a little. “That's right. Well then: I thank you for your courage and your faith in goodness. Have a safe and pleasant journey home. Mishakal may bless you.” With a small smile, he looked at Jana. ”Most of you, forgive me.”

Naghûl and Morânia couldn't help grinning at his words, and even the sorceress laughed a little. Then they bowed to say goodbye and were already on their way to the exit when Cebulon turned to Jana again.

“Ah, Lost One ...”

She stopped and looked back.

“Did you know that all the superiors of this monastery are proxies of Mishakal?”

“No, I didn't know that,” Jana replied unsuspectingly, but Morânia paused, turned around and stared at Cebulon in disbelief. “What?!”

The patriarch smiled briefly and then nodded. “Yes.” With these words he turned around and disappeared into the back of the sanctum.

Morânia was speechless and she could see that Naghûl was no less perplexed. This information was new to both of them, and the conclusion that had to be drawn from it was quite shocking. “Unbelievable …“ the bal'aasi murmured softly.

“Why?” Jana frowned. “What exactly is a proxy? Um, does that mean he won't come to Sigil?”

“I don't know,” Morânia replied, shaking her head. “All I know is that ... Let's go out first.”

She realized that Lereia and Kiyoshi probably couldn't guess the meaning of Cebulon's last statement either, but the interior of the Conclave was not the appropriate place to explain it.

Jana nodded. “Well, maybe it's better that way. I don't know how I should have explained that to my factol anyway. At least he thought about it for a moment.”

The sorceress seemed oddly cheerful and elated by the whole matter, and Morânia exchanged a quick glance with her husband, who looked just as incredulous as she did. After they had left the temple, the bal'aasi took a deep breath and let her gaze wander over the idyllic forecourt of the monastery. Sgillin was sitting a short distance away, under a blossoming acacia tree, had lit a pipe and was relaxing, watching a unicorn grazing nearby. At that moment, she envied him the inner peace that he had apparently just found.

“I'm shocked, seriously,“ she murmured.

“So what exactly is a proxy?” Lereia asked cautiously.

“A proxy is a servant, but also the chosen of a deity,” the bal'aasi explained. ”A bit like a paladin. A holy warrior is also appointed directly by a god. But proxies are on another level ... a much higher level. Like a high priest is above a novice.”

Jana shrugged. “So, an especially important preacher. So what?”

Morânia sensed that the sorceress’ simplicity – or perhaps feigned simplicity – was beginning to irritate her. “No, much more than an important preacher,” she replied. ”They have special, very powerful gifts that their deity grants them. They are mortals who are loved and honored by the gods in a special way. Only those with the strongest faith ... Don't you understand what that means? What it means when Cebulon says that the superiors here are always proxies?”

Lereia's eyes widened, apparently in understanding, but Jana just raised her hands in defense. “I really don't understand. Whatever a proxy is, why is that so important?”

Morânia buried her face in her hands for a moment. ”By the gods, Jana, that means that your factol also used to be a proxy of Mishakal! And I have never heard of that. It's apparently not very public in Sigil.”

A little helplessly, the sorceress shook her head. “Yes, but I know that Terrance used to be a powerful cleric. And now I know that he was even more important than I thought?”

The bal'aasi sighed deeply. It was possible that Jana really didn't know what was so remarkable about this. Although Morânia thought that as an Athar she should have known. She tried to calm down again. “I'm just very surprised,” she explained. “I always found it unbelievable that a high priest of Mishakal would join the Athar. But one of her proxies ... no.”

“I think I can use a comparison to explain this,” Naghûl offered. “Jana, how important do you think Askorion is to Terrance?”

“I don't know,” Jana replied suspiciously. ”And it's none of my business. And certainly not yours!”

Morânia could tell that her husband was also strained, but he took a deep breath. “I don't want to offend Askorion,” he assured her. “It's just an example.”

“All right,” Jana conceded. ”But I really don't know how important Askorion is to Terrance. He chose him as ritual helper for the upcoming Day of Pain, so ...” She shrugged. “Pretty important, I suppose?”

Naghûl let out a soft whistle. “Oh, so he trusts him a lot. All right, then there aren't many people who are that close to Terrance. Now imagine, tomorrow Askorion goes to Terrance and says: I'm leaving the Athar to join the Believers of the Source instead. You see, I want to become a god .”

“That's absurd!“ Jana objected.

“That is, so to say, exactly what Terrance did,” Morânia explained.

The sorceress looked at her blankly. “Terrance went to Mishakal and told him that he wanted to become a god?”

The bal'aasi felt her carefully regained composure quickly and completely slip away at this remark. “ Her ! Mishakal is a goddess !” she snapped at Jana. “And now stop playing dumb!” She was now truly angry at the sorceress' ignorance, whether it was feigned or not.

Lereia coughed briefly and began to rummage in her backpack, taking a step to the side, obviously to avoid being in the line of fire during this conversation.

Naghûl shook his head disapprovingly. “It's really hard with you, Jana, you know that?”

The sorceress shrugged. ”Whatever Mishakal is, she's definitely not a goddess.”

With a softly murmured “Uh-oh”, Lereia buried herself even deeper in her backpack.

Morânia felt the flames of a hot ire flare up inside her. Almost instinctively, she took a step towards Jana. “You will stop blaspheming against a goddess of good in her own realm, or I will lose my temper!”

“Then let's just go.” Jana crossed her arms and bit her lower lip, but no longer looked Morânia in the eye. “I think we've been here far too long anyway.”

“Yes, let's go,” Morânia replied angrily and walked towards the acacia tree to pick up Sgillin. She definitely preferred talking to the Anarchist over talking to the Athar at the moment.

“I'm starting to worry,” she heard Naghûl say to Lereia and Kiyoshi, obviously only half in jest. ”If Jana continues like this, she won't be with us for much longer.”

 

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 played September 7, 2012

Sgillin waited outside the monastery because his player was not there that evening.