When Heroes Die

“Mercantis erected a pyre in reverence to its own greed. Far be it for them to complain when we hoist them to the pole and light the flames.”

– King Jehan the Wise of Callow

Songbird and I arrived at one of the few undamaged estates on the western outskirts of Aisne. Yvette had stayed behind. Today was the day we oversaw the negotiations between Princess Clotilde and the peasants. I was filled with trepidation at the very thought. There were so many ways this could go wrong.

Rows of carefully tended pines lined a cobbled pathway leading up to a rather modest flat roofed two-storey manor with red brick walls by noble standards. From a distance, it looked like there were tents set out on the rooftop. The place was idyllic, picturesque, cared for in a way that told a story about the person who lived in it.

It stood in stark juxtaposition to everything that existed beyond the estate grounds. It was fake. There was nothing real about it. It was a lie that the owner liked to tell themselves to escape from the world outside.

Maybe if I hadn’t met the nobility, I would have interpreted the story differently.

“S’pose you can try not to vanish this place while we’re here?” Songbird teased.

Breathing out slowly, I unclenched my fists.

Arriving at an unblemished house like this after seeing all the damaged infrastructure had not been good for my mood. The location was so estranged from the city itself that little to no unnatural sounds could be heard at all. Our boots echoed across an otherwise almost silent vista, with only the gentle trills of bird call joining in.

“It shouldn’t be too hard,” I lied, turning her way briefly to respond. Like me, she was dressed formally. She carried a tightly bound stack of papers under her right arm.

“She’s prob’ly here because she’s had a real shit few weeks. This place makes her comfortable. Helps her to recover.”

“Doesn’t make me any happier.”

“Y’know, you’re being too hard on her.”

“I am?”

“Princess Clotilde is pious. She also has a strong sense of morals. Now she’s prob’ly absolutely terrified that her soul belongs to the Gods Below for earning your ire after that speech of yours. She’ll toe the line very closely.”

I… wasn’t sure how much I believed Songbird’s interpretation of Princess Clotilde’s actions, but I would take that into account.

“I’ll consider it.”

Maybe I was being unfair to the woman. I hadn’t actually interacted with her much, even if I was working with her to restore the city. Most of my time was spent out in the field. Meeting in the middle of an abattoir during a revolution did not make for a good first impression.

“Don’t be too eager to give her what she wants, even if you intend to.” Songbird cautioned, changing the topic.

“I’ll bargain as if I don’t plan to stay. If I get a better deal than I want, then I’ll just stay a few days more.”

Songbird and I both suspected that the peasants would ask for requests that the Princess was unable to fulfil. The worry was that another revolution would spark if negotiations broke down. That was not an outcome I was willing to risk. I was planning to negotiate for additional concessions on their behalf as a result.

“S’pose even a bleeding heart like you can do this much,” she muttered. “Dunno why you’re set on negotiating like this. You already made demands at the plaza.”

I was unhappy with myself. I was frustrated that I had resorted to issuing orders. It set a bad precedent that I needed to amend. An unspoken edict had been proclaimed that power in the Principate was mine to hand out as I wished. That perception needed to change, even if it was partly true.

It was another ugly truth. One that I was also guilty of shying away from.

I was planning to bargain for my time as a result. I would offer my services for the reconstruction of Aisne in exchange for additional concessions for the peasantry. In reality, I would be helping out regardless. My plan was to try to mitigate the political fallout of my actions this way in advance. I would put on the appearance of standing beneath the rules.

“I couldn’t think of a better choice. It was probably a mistake.”

Our conversation halted as we drew close to the entrance.

Servants opened the heavyset large oak door before we reached it, and we were quickly led indoors. We were directed further in after taking off our boots and leaving them on stand beside the door. I tried to take in the place’s décor as we move. It was hard to do so when my mind was preoccupied with the discussion to come. We walked along a light wooden floor past tastefully framed pictures and potted plants without me taking in much detail as a result. Songbird was right about one thing. There was far more religious iconography in the place than I expected from an ambitious Princess.

I’d try to be more kind to her in future. Perhaps I was being too judgemental.

I slowed as we passed a room with a group of peasants in it who seemed to be lost.

“That’s not our stop?”

“The tides of fate have deemed otherwise. Those nineteen representatives chose to exclude themselves from the oncoming discussion and nominated only one of their number to speak in their stead.” The servant informed me.

I stepped into the room briefly to verify what I had been told. After satisfying my need to know, I followed behind.

It didn’t take long before our guides had ushered us upstairs and onto the rooftop.

The doorway leading towards the rooftop closed quietly behind us as we climbed the last set of stairs, and I was met with a strong floral scent as I made the ascent. I came face to face with a scenic view looking out into the open countryside.

I turned.

The rooftop was decorated with an assorted variety of potted plants. There was a large tent nestled among the cultivated beauty. Four chairs had been set beneath it. They were roughly facing each other in a square. Princess Clotilde sat on one of them, with an attendant and two guards standing beside her. She looked no healthier than when I had seen her last time.

Definitely too judgemental.

The nominee sat on the chair to her right. There was a side table on his right-hand side. A small pile of documents rested on top of it.

Songbird and I made our way across. Both of them stood up as we approached.

“Your Royal Highness,” I greeted her, nodding my head in her direction then turned towards the man, “and…”

“Fair weather to you. I hope that this does much to pull the curtains of tragedy aside,” Princess Clotilde’s understated blue dress moved fluidly as she stood and returned the greeting. Her face looked weary and her hands still shook. I suspected it was a tick from the time she had spent imprisoned and that it would not be disappearing any time soon.

“My name is Allain,” the man replied in a firm voice. I had to look up to meet his brown eyes.

“This was not the kind of place I would have expected to meet and discuss this.”

She remained silent for a moment. All four of us sat down.

“I remain weary after the time I spent trapped within Quentin’s cage. It was within my means to feign strength that I do not have. I decided to show wisdom instead. Only fools strive to pass a veil over the eyes of those chosen by the Gods Above in an effort to obscure the truth. This place serves to cast the shadow of my thoughts back to fairer times.”

“Do you want me to heal you?”

There was no reason for me to be petty. While I didn’t know what scheming she might have done before I arrived… As far as I could tell, she had done her best to organize the disaster management ever since. Even if I suspected it was only out of fear. I wasn’t prepared to leave someone to suffer. It would be needlessly cruel.

“I would appreciate having my maladies tended to, provided it is no more effort than the turning of a page for you.”

It was only a few heartbeats before her skin returned to a more healthy colouring. As I expected, her shakes still remained.

“Let’s take our time and resolve this.”

Allain cleared his throat and picked up the documents from beside him, then squinted at them. “The first point of contention to be raised by the temporary council representing the interests of the peasants as elected by the Aspirant on the date of…”

All three of us sat quietly and listened to what Allain had to say. There were many requests. Princess Clotilde was able to accept some of them right away. Most of those were in the forms of payments, restitutions and promises to fund the reconstruction of outlying farms and hamlets that had been pillaged during the civil war. They were small mercies that would help people survive in the short term.

Unfortunately, they would do little to prevent history from repeating itself.

Then there were the requests that could not immediately be granted and would require further investigation. Allain was unhappy, but mollified by Princess Clotilde’s response. Those were requests for specific nobles to be punished, along with details of their alleged crimes. I imagined that they would take a long time to be given their due consideration, but investigation would be done.

The last group of demands were the ones that needed to be rejected. Almost every amendment relating to peasant conscription had to be turned down. I was surprised that any changes could be made to the laws regarding conscription without a vote in the Highest Assembly. Regardless of that, I unfortunately agreed with Princess Clotilde’s decision not to change them. I had spent enough time looking over Cordelia’s notes to understand that the right of conscription remained necessary so long as the threats to the north remained. There could be some smaller changes, but the underlying reason remained one of survival.

Allain looked mutinous as Princess Clotilde finished turning down his final demand.

“Wait a moment,” I raised my hand. “You might not have got what you set out for but… That doesn’t mean I can’t negotiate for something else.”

“Would you then barter for restitution in our stead?”

“I would.”

“I cannot speak for everyone else but provided we all find your suggestions acceptable then your proposal is agreeable.”

I turned towards Princess Clotilde. “You have some idea of what I can do. I’m going to provide you with a list of concessions. We can find try to come to an agreement once you have given them some thought.”

“Should your suggested terms prove to be both well reasoned and acceptable by all involved participants in this affair, then they may be taken into consideration.”

“I’d like to talk about justice to start with. You have the right to dispense justice. You are also able to determine the punishments for that should be meted out. Many punishments are excessively cruel and inhumane. There is no reason to do something like boil someone alive in oil.”

I paused to gather my thoughts.

“Any crime which earns capital punishment and does not require a vote in the Highest Assembly to modify its sentence is to have the method of punishment reviewed,” I stated. “Choose a method that is quick and merciful for all of them. Something like a painless poison. You don’t need to have creative punishments for more excessive crimes if the person guilty will still end up dead. The same is true for cruel punishments for people that don’t resort in death. Any sentences that amount to torture should either be revised to death or some form of imprisonment. There isn’t a good reason to torture anyone.”

There was more I wanted. Ideally, I’d like to reform the system itself. Introduce a jury system to attempt to ensure that judgements were handed out more fairly. In theory, Salienta’s Graces were a much more primitive version of human rights on Earth Bet. In practice, a Royal Magistrate could overturn them in any Principality. I wanted that to change.

While the Princes and Princesses were very leery of ever actually doing so – interfering with them substantially would see a situation similar to Aisne occur elsewhere – it did happen from time to time. Those were abuses I wanted to see checked. A jury could help with that. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but I considered it better than the existing one. Implementing a jury system would unfortunately involve a vote at the Highest Assembly. I would be attempting to change the underlying structure of the justice system. It wasn’t something that would happen any time soon.

I also wanted to change Salienta’s Graces themselves. Make them more comprehensive. More benevolent. It was good that the Principate enshrined the rights of its citizens and in theory made its Princes and peasants equal. That didn’t mean those rights couldn’t be stronger.

Both fortunately – it was good that it was not easy to change them – and unfortunately, I was a long way away from being able to reform that part of Procer at all. It wouldn’t just take convincing the people in power to vote my way in the Highest Assembly. Salienta’s Graces were a part of the story that made up the Principate. The culture of the Principate would need to shift before people would be willing to accept modifications to them.

“Is this the full breadth of what you wish to negotiate for?” she asked, her voice remaining measured.

“No.” I gestured towards Songbird. She picked up the documents we had brought with and handed them to Princess Clotilde. “Here is a copy of a list of reforms Cordelia Hasenbach drafted for Rhenia. Rhenia is a much poorer Principality than Aisne. Once this disaster is mitigated, I’d like you to draft and implement something similar. There are differences between Aisne and Rhenia. They would need to be accounted for.”

Princess Clotilde looked at the documents briefly before turning back to us, “It will take me much time to properly assess this proposal.”

“Fine.”

The four of us sat in awkward silence for what must have been over a bell of contemplation before Princess Clotilde looked up once more. The late morning sun had risen, passed its zenith and just began to dip. It now glared harshly in my eyes. Servants brought us refreshments and left in the interim.

“The breadth of the proposed reforms stretches from one horizon to the other.” Princess Clotilde set the papers down beside her. “The revelation that they would not be beyond our means, provided Aisne had not recently weathered a storm, comes to me like a bolt of lightning out of a cerulean sky. It is to our misfortune that the shadow of evil hangs over this place like a fell omen. Many turns of the hourglass will pass before reforms of this nature can be given their due.”

I didn’t expect that project to truly to be undertaken until well after I had left. She could try to play me for the fool but… I doubted she would risk it. She would be risking her very tenuous position by doing so.

“I can help.”

She paused and hesitated for a moment, then gestured for a servant to bring me another document.

Puzzled, I looked it over.

It was a long list of figures. I couldn’t immediately make out what they referred to. Eventually, I started to decipher the text. It looked like projected losses due to the expectation of previously desirable land becoming undesirable.

“What is this about?” I asked.

“This is a tally of the estimated losses due to the ongoing presence of your display,” she paused as her shakes exacerbated for a moment. “Far be it for one such as myself to question one of heaven’s chosen but… It would be in the best interest of the people of the principality were the vision to be dispersed.”

I realized then what she was talking about. My illusion. Rather predictably, people did not want to live next to it. The scene was macabre and had been constructed in the heat of the moment. I was quickly coming to regret having put it there at all.

“You want me to remove it?”

“If the matter of its removal does not offend your sensibilities, it would be the smallest of boons.”

I thought about it. Removing the illusion would weaken the story. I was almost certain of that. But… I had been wrong to put it there in the first place. That was something I knew for sure. It was a vision of me issuing declarations over a scene so dark that people shouldn’t have to bear witness to it. There were other ways to make my point. I should have done something different.

It wasn’t a good feeling, admitting I had made a mistake. Removing the illusion after such a short time would be embarrassing. I was sure bards would write mocking stories about it. That didn’t mean I would shy away from it. I had made a promise to both Max and myself that I wouldn’t stop trying to be a better person. Dismissing the illusion was probably the right thing to do, and it wouldn’t be hard for me.

“I’ll do it,” I confirmed, “but I’m not giving you your palace back. In exchange, you are going to build a school where it once stood. A school that can be attended by anyone. Those who cannot pay the price in thrones can pay the price through alternate means. Either by instituting a similar system to Praes involving a term of service, or some other form of repayment.”

“While the furrow of your thoughts is laudable, many among the nobility will nip at your heels without a palace to call their own. Many of those born to the House of Groseiller will take umbrage at this slight.”

“Let them,” I replied. “I’m not negotiating on this if they want that illusion gone. A palace would usually be a symbol of national or cultural pride, or as an administration centre. I don’t think Aisne has much to be proud of now. There are plenty of other buildings the city can be ruled from. They want to build a palace? That’s fine. They can do it somewhere else. That piece of land was the site of a tragedy, and it’s being used for something fitting instead.”

“Many moons will pass before work on such a project could begin,” she warned.

“I can accept that. Is there anything else you want?”

“The revolution has created a dearth of those with the requisite skills to coordinate Aisne.”

“There isn’t much I can do about that.”

It wasn’t as if I could create skilled workers out of thin air.

“If that is all you wish to bargain for, then we should draw the curtains of this discussion to a close and negotiate terms. What services are you willing to provide in order to even the scales?”

“One week,” I began. “During that time I will remain in Aisne. I will transmute whatever goods are needed for reconstruction. I will help with the rebuilding of the city and heal everyone I can. You will agree to my requests in exchange. I am not prepared to help you fight in the civil war or with any other political conflicts. I am only willing to help you stabilize the principality.”

“Would you care to divulge the canvas of your thoughts on the matter of…”

Negotiations started in earnest. Songbird stepped in and became more involved. Allain appeared to lose track of the conversation almost immediately. I pitied the poor man. We eventually settled on terms that both parties were willing to agree on.

“Is this fine with you?” I turned to Allain.

The stipulations made by Allain and I had remained largely unchanged throughout negotiations. It was only the exact details of what Princess Clotilde extracted from me that was bartered over. I ended up agreeing to spend three weeks in Aisne performing tasks that I had already intended to do.

It should have felt like a victory. It didn’t.

“While I find these terms acceptable, it remains to be seen whether the others find them amenable as well.” Allain informed us.

“That’s the best I can ask for.”

We talked for a little while longer before eventually the three of us were dismissed. Allain went downstairs and took the modified agreement to the other representatives. They quibbled over it for some time. They wanted some terms to be reviewed further. To my relief, it was nothing I needed to be involved with. I was expecting them to be unhappy. So long as they understood the reasoning behind why some of their requests were rejected… I was willing to live with the outcome.

“M’surprised you’re not happy.” Songbird took up conversation on the way out of the estate.

“Why should I be?”

“You won. The revolution is over. You even got the Princess to accept your demands.”

“It’s not a win,” I replied tiredly. “Think of how many people died. A win would have prevented this. Achieving better ends with different means. I consider this a loss. It might not have been catastrophic, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a loss.”

It felt like I had taken a step back, as if I was regressing. That was far worse to me than anything else. I had resorted to threats to achieve a temporary truce. I counted it as a loss. It didn’t matter if I had managed to successfully negotiate afterwards.

“Taylor, you aim too high,” Songbird admonished.

“Maybe. Someone has to. If everyone is aiming for the ground, then we’ll never reach the clouds.”

“Why d’you want to be up there? Ground’s nice. Y’can walk on it.”

“It’s not just a loss in Aisne. Think about the other Principalities. They weren’t just importing food because they liked the colour of Aisne’s grain. Princess Clotilde needed to cut back a lot on exports. There will probably be shortages elsewhere. I don’t know enough about the Principate to say how bad this is, but… there is no way this counts as a win.”

“S’pose it tracks that a hero wants to be up there.”

“I have a question about Yvette. What happened two days ago? Why did she need to kill people?”

“There were too many guards around the Hall of Records when we arrived. I asked her to make a distraction. She got distracted. Knowing her, she prob’ly spotted a cat. The spell went wrong. Some guards went to investigate. The rest stayed behind. I wasn’t sure how to sneak past. I asked her to help again. She didn’t know how to incapacitate people. She improvised. Her idea killed them.”

Songbird was obviously not a responsible caretaker.

“And you didn’t suggest alternatives? There was nothing stopping you from making another distraction. If that didn’t work, you could have just threatened them. It’s not ideal, but if they were staring down a sorcerer, there is no way they wouldn’t back down. You also could have just retreated. I tried to retreat when it looked like I was dealing with something I wasn’t suited for, and I’m much better equipped than Yvette. Most of the problems would have been avoided if we had all been together.”

“If we hadn’t been there, then Praesi instigators would’ve killed Princess Clotilde. Y’can’t keep aiming for perfect answers. Eventually, someone’ll make a mistake.”

“Making a mistake because you missed something and just being careless aren’t the same thing,” I disagreed. “This was avoidable. You’re too reckless. Both with your own life and with the lives of others. You’re going to die at some point if you don’t change the way you behave.”

Songbird looked like she was about to make a quip, I raised a hand and forestalled her.

“I know nobody lives forever. This isn’t about that. What you are doing isn’t acceptable to me at all. If you want to keep travelling with me, then you need to accept that and make an effort to do better. I like you Songbird. I even consider you a friend. That doesn’t mean I’m willing to just overlook your faults. I don’t expect you to be perfect. Nobody is. I expect you to try to be someone I would approve of even when I’m not around. What you do reflects on me. I don’t know if you’re doing anything behind my back. You can’t hide the truth forever, even if you are. Eventually, secrets come out.”

“S’pose you-”

“Don’t respond to this immediately.” I cut her off. “Think about what I said for a while first. I want to know that you have considered my words when you eventually reply. But don’t think this means that you can leave it off forever. I am expecting a reply.”

As requested, Songbird said nothing in response.

I didn’t think I would be trusting her to take care of Yvette again any time soon.

We made our way over to the plaza. I looked past the stairs and observed my mistake. I studied it for a few heartbeats. The threads of a story pulled strongly at me from up close. I expected they would weaken or fade away if I broke the illusion.

Nothing for it.

I needed to decide what to do with the illusion before I broke it. It was still a large amount of material and I would be turning it into something else. How about something more fitting?

Now that I was no longer in a crisis, I had time to think. I started to toss ideas back and forth within my head. A memorial for the lives lost was an easy choice. A safe choice. What else could I aim for? The land itself would be used for a school. Princess Clotilde had agreed to that. What did I want every student who passed through it to look at?

No, that was the wrong way to think about this. The victims of this tragedy would build their own memorial. They would choose to handle this in whatever way they could. It wasn’t up to me to decide for them. I may have helped to bring the conflict to an end, but I had never truly been a part of it. I had been an outsider sticking my nose in.

Eventually, I made up my mind.

One of my phantoms vanished from behind me. The illusion disappeared with the ghost. An impossibly dense white stone rectangular block appeared. It was positioned on the right-hand side at the top of the stairs and was nestled against the ruined face of the palace wall. The block stood at waist height and was as long as I was tall. It was almost entirely undecorated. There was a single exception. Three phrases scribed neatly into the top face as if by my hand.

Everyone falls. Staying down is a choice. Some choose to stand back up.

The writing wasn’t perfect. I hadn’t wanted it to be. Part of the message would be lost if it were flawless. We all make mistakes. I certainly made plenty. None of us are perfect. We only become better people if we take the time to reflect, consider our actions, and then admit that we were wrong.

One day somebody may try to move, break or deface the block. They would find it harder than they might expect.

To my surprise, the threads of a story tightened around me. It was almost immediate. I stiffened when I realized what had happened. Rather than weakening, the strength of the story I was within had intensified.

Time passed quickly. There was much work to be done. Healing, reconstruction and material substitutes were the easy requests. Songbird assisted with delegation. Gradually, my list of duties expanded to more complex civil problems. Roadworks, aqueducts, and defences for outlying farms.

Learning to mend specific buildings took time. I didn’t bother with anything non-essential. The nobles could employ people to fix their own houses. The money they spent paying people for repairs could be the smallest of restitutions for the issues they caused. If they hadn’t schemed, then the situation would not have gone so far.

Princess Clotilde had started sending out inquiries looking for experts who could fill missing advisory positions. The requests had to be sent to other Principalities, and it was unlikely I would still be around by the time she received a response. There was nothing I could really do to help with that.

It took a while before I warmed up to her. Songbird was right. She was one of the few members of the nobility who appeared to actually care, and she definitely held to the faith. I doubted that she would go back on her agreement. I did eventually apologize for how unfairly I had treated her. She was doing her best with the tools she had to put the Principality right. I did not envy her for her position.

It was when I was asked to help arbitrate disputes that I struggled the most. I may not have been a magistrate within the Principate, but I was certainly being treated like one. Small fights kept breaking out. They were not organized and were much less destructive, but simply declaring the revolution was over unsurprisingly did not make it true. I kept having to very politely send people away. It was entirely my fault. The issue would not be plaguing me if I hadn’t asserted authority over the nobility. It left me feeling drained at the end of each day.

It became a habit of mine to visit the House of Light at the dawn of each day. I received stares at first. That didn’t last long once people became accustomed to my presence. Fortunately, I was not asked to speak again. The place was like a refuge to me. It was the closest I could come to being around people who shared my perspective. That didn’t mean that I valued my friends less. I still missed Roland and was coming to care for Songbird and Yvette. It was just that… It was nice to talk to people who shared even a vaguely similar outlook to me.

Songbird had her people scour the Hall of Records and dig up every historical record on the crusades that she could. Yvette helped to summarize those for me. Piecing together an accurate picture of what defined the crusades kept me occupied during the evenings. I spent a long time thinking before I eventually made up my mind.

I was not prepared to support a crusade.

Cordelia was probably one of the most skilled politicians alive. I still thought that calling for a crusade would be a mistake. The crusade was a story. A story of driving back the very darkest of evils. The current Praes was certainly evil. I doubted it was evil enough. Good would need to feel the rancid breath of darkness tickle down the back of its neck before a crusade would end in anything except tragedy.

Worse, a crusade was an implicit allowance for both sides to escalate. To exercise powers far beyond what was usually brought to bear.

The First Crusade was fought to unseat Dread Empress Triumphant. The Second Crusade was waged to prevent Praes from overthrowing the Crusader Kingdoms. Those were the only two truly successful crusades that had been fought. The rest had all been varying degrees of failures. The records of the atrocities that had been let loose spoke for themselves.

Demons and devils unleashed. Angels summoned into Creation. Everyone from one side of the continent to the other would suffer if a crusade was called. Disasters like Liesse would become commonplace. A crusade wasn’t something anyone should call for if they had any other choice.

It wasn’t an answer to problems. It was a plea to the Gods Above for deliverance.

I would need to put together an argument to convince Cordelia. I knew by now that emotion would not sway her. An appeal to what was moral was also unlikely to succeed. My reasoning would need to be based on logic alone and grounded in the context of Calernia. I was not certain why she wanted to start one. I spent a long time speculating on the subject.

Cordelia’s motive could be revenge. I doubted it. I also didn’t think it was out of a sense of righteousness. It was when I stumbled on references to Proceran laws relating to crusades that I found what I suspected might be my first lead. The First Prince did not normally have the right to commandeer the armies of other Principalities. The expectation existed that other Princes cede some level of control to the First Prince during the time of a crusade.

There were many exceptions to laws that only applied during a crusade. Exceptions that would make it substantially easier for her to solidify her hold over Procer. I suspected that was where her true motives lay.

Using a crusade for political leverage would be a costly mistake for her to make.

I paid scribes to copy as many texts as I could. Even if I was unable to persuade Cordelia with words, I hoped that a sufficient body of historical evidence would convince her to see my way. This was not an argument that I was prepared to lose.

I had wanted to spend more time talking with Yvette. There was just never enough time to go around. There was simply too much that needed to be done. I had gradually allowed her to start practising magic again after adding a much more comprehensive set of restrictions to what I didn’t want her trying to do.

I never would have thought I would be telling children that vacuums are off limits five years ago.

Three weeks passed in a blink of an eye, and soon we were ready to depart. Aisne was in a better shape, but I still wouldn’t call it good. I had done what I could, but the city was undeniably still limping its way towards recovery.

Songbird pranced ahead and seized Maude in a hug as we were making our way down. There was plenty of complaining to be heard. I moved to open the door. To my surprise, there was someone waiting for me on the other side.

It was the Priestess from the House of Light. Yesterday I had told her that it would be my final visit. I hadn’t expected her to show up. She had a youth beside her. A boy who looked no older than ten. He kept shifting from foot to foot and playing with a bundle under his right arm.

“Those of us among the faith valued the many hours you spent among us…” she paused. “We felt that it was fitting for us to return one gift with another. This is a small token of our appreciation that we commissioned in preparation for your departure.”

I was about to tell her it wasn’t necessary when I realized how nervous the boy was. This was obviously important to him. I chose to hold my tongue instead.

She gestured towards the boy. He pulled the bundle out from beneath his arms and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” he sniffed. “You healed my burns on the bad day.”

I felt a lump at the back of my throat. I reached forward carefully and accepted the bundle. It was an item of clothing. I opened it out. Something warm and wet slid down the side of my face.

“But I didn’t prevent a bloodbath,” I whispered, tracing my hand over the third symbol on the item.

“The life of a fire is not measured solely by the moment it burns brightest. Even the dying embers still bring warmth on a cold winter night.” The priestess smiled as she spoke.

“This… this means a lot to me.”

“You are a chosen sister of the faith. It is nothing more than an acknowledgement of a place you may already call home,” I heard the voice of the priestess distantly. I wasn’t paying attention to it. My focus was fully absorbed on the gift.

“Wait for me,” I told them all abruptly.

Turning around, I sprinted back into the building. Maude squawked as I made my way past her back into the room that I had just left. I rapidly changed the outfit that I wore. The gift was a newly sown austere white robe. The material was scratchy, and it didn’t quite fit me perfectly. It was a bit too large and hung a little loose.

I didn’t care.

My badge had been sewn over the heart. There were three other symbols which had been sewn onto the right-hand side. A swan with the sun over it, a rainbow-coloured kingfisher and an ear of wheat that was aflame.

I pulled impulsively on my abilities. I focused on the idea of impenetrability, resilience, the ability to withstand any blow. Two looming spectres vanished from behind me. The effect took.

I did not usually bother to enhance clothing. That was because I had to make it a part of me to do so. Anything that could contain me could contain it as well. Most clothes were easily replaceable and so it wasn’t worth my time. I would make an exception for this. This was mine and it was precious to me.

I did not want it to break.

Receiving it had sparked the smallest of embers within me. A yearning. It was a memory of an echo of a dream thought lost so very long ago. A part of me that wanted to belong. I didn’t have faith. Not yet, at least.

But the smallest of fires had been ignited and slowly started to burn away at my distrust.

Flames that had yet to be snuffed out.