Chapter 14 - The Quest

Rising through the priesthood was not what Marus had expected it to be. More responsibility just seemed to mean more paperwork and less involvement. He spent more time in this office than he did with people. It was the other priests that did the ministering, most of the services, and most of the counseling. Sometimes he got involved when there was a problem, and he officiated at some of the larger ceremonies, but he hadn't even performed a marriage in more than a year.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Come," he called, pushing the soup bowl to the side of his desk.

The door opened and Father Orrin entered. He was several years younger than Marus, and one of the more experienced of the priests. He was one of the ones involved with the congregation on a daily basis. He was the one doing what Marus had done four or five years ago.

"Father Marus, we're having a problem and were hoping you could help us."

"What sort of problem?"

"A girl. She arrived the day before yesterday. She is in a bad way, and we have been unsuccessful in healing her."

"Someone arrived two days ago and I didn't even know? I need to get out of this office more."

"We were hoping you might shed some wisdom on the nature of her problem," the younger priest continued.

"Let me see how I can help," Marus said, pushing his chair back to stand. Perhaps you do still listen, after all, he thought wryly.

He followed Orrin to the infirmary, and was led to one of the rooms beyond it, just a couple doors down and across from the room Alldeh was in. Marus cast a glance at Alldeh's door as he passed it. The man had been particularly unsettled the past few days, and Marus had found himself putting off his daily visits until later in the day as he left them feeling slightly out of sorts himself. There had been several instances in the time Alldeh had been there that suggestions had been made to try adding some herbs to the man's diet to soothe and even sedate him. While Marus had never allowed it before, the thought had been crossing his mind recently.

The room the girl was in had a sharp contrast to Alldeh's quarters, however. In here, it was clean. The walls were painted white and clean white linens dressed the bed and one window. One of the female acolytes was sitting at the edge of the bed, laying a fresh cloth across the girl's forehead. She stood up when Marus and Orrin entered, looking both exhausted and relieved. He recognized her from his visits here to see Alldeh, and addressed her by name.

"Hello Essa. I take it you've been watching over her for some time?" he asked.

"Yes, Father," she nodded. "The wound that eludes us is here." She turned and flipped back the covers over the girl's legs, and he saw that one was bandaged heavily. As if in response to the change in the blankets, the girl moaned.

"She's been unconscious since she arrived," Father Orrin said. "Some gypsies brought her in. They said her name was Niza and that she'd told them she'd traveled from Riverport. Apparently she took the wound sometime during her flight from the city."

"What kind of wound? Let me see it." Marus rolled up his sleeves to get them out of the way while Essa began to gently unwrap the leg. He wished he hadn't so recently eaten when he got sight of the dark, rotting flesh beneath.

"I'm surprised no one amputated," he muttered, stepping in for a closer look.

"We think it was an arrow or throwing knife that hit her," Orrin said. "There may have initially been some poison, although I doubt it. I think it just wasn't tended to in time or well enough and had the chance to get infected. It was already too late to amputate by the time the gypsies found her hiding in one of their wagons. She told them she thought the Elar were still after her, even this far out, but Kella, the gypsy woman who tried to tend to the wound, said her fever was bad enough that the girl probably thought it was true."

"What has the trouble been with healing her exactly?" Marus asked. "We've certainly healed worse injuries than this one."

"That's what's so strange, Father," Essa said. "Everyone that tries manages to heal her a little, enough to keep her alive, but then it...it's as if it... burns!"

Marus looked up at the acolyte with concern.

"Has she been checked for tatoos? Anything that might prevent us or suggest that she's the acolyte for another religion?" He thought of his own tatoo, on his chest that had been part of the ceremony to become an acolyte and later embellished as part of the one that made him a full priest. It was meant to help be in closer contact with the Gods themselves, as well as protect him from the smaller curses and spells that priests of other religions might try to cast upon him in times of conflict.

"Her skin is clear, Father. It makes no sense." Essa shook her head wearily.

"Some sort of curse or dark spell?" he suggested aloud, studying the girl's too-pale color.

"Nothing that we've seen sign of," Father Orrin replied with a frown.

"We've checked her pockets," Essa added, "and found no talismans or charms."

"Well, she looks like she won't make the rest of the day without some kind of intervention."

Father Marus stepped closer, kneeling at the bed side. He recited the usual chant and placed his hand on the girl's chest.

"Kielle, embrace this child in your healing arms so that she may resume the path placed before her by gods." He closed his eyes and focused. He felt with his mind life returning to the dead, rotting flesh. He felt the warmth flow through him into the girl.

Just as powerfully he felt that energy pulled into her. The warmth was sucked away leaving a burning cold feeling in his hands. He pulled them away and sat back hard on the floor.

"It was working," he said, confused. "Kielle wants the girl to heal and live, but there is some dark force preventing it." It hadn't felt like a curse pushing back against him. It was if the warmth was being pulled down through her somehow.

Almost by reflex, he leaned down and peered under the bed, a part of him almost expecting to find some dark priest hiding under there casting spells of some evil nature or other. He'd never felt anything quite like what had happened when he'd tried to heal the girl, so he found himself confounded on what exactly to think. Instead, all that was under the bed was a dirty, battered backpack. He reached in and gently pulled it out by one of the straps.

"Has this been checked as well?" he asked, looking back to Orrin and Essa.

"The gypsies said it belonged to her," Orrin replied, shaking his head. "If there were anything in there that was having this effect, it would have to be far more than a talisman. Based on the bag's condition, I thought it unlikely there would be anything in there that could do this."

"Considering the circumstances, I think we'd better rule out all possibilities before we start subjecting the girl to further attempts of magic. I think my attempt to heal her may have done more harm than good." The girl's breathing had gotten shallower, and now Marus was now worried she might not make it to dusk, much less the end of the day. He handed the bag over to Essa, who knelt down and began pulling out clothes and other items, spreading them onto the floor where they could all see them. His eyes paused on a set of lockpicks, and a few other items that suggested to him the girl had been on the run from more than just the Elar while in Riverport. He frowned at that, but returned to the problem of healing her first, making a mental note to make sure someone kept a watchful eye on her after they'd healed her.

Essa pulled out a tattered blanket that looked to be wrapped around an object. She unwrapped it gingerly and the three of them all gasped as the item came into view. It was some sort of scepter, probably religious in nature, based on the symbols engraved on it. He'd never seen it's equal. It was gold-plated, at the very least, although he suspected it was made entirely of gold, and encrusted with gems and crown-shaped formations of crystal at both ends. The crystals seemed to glow and suddenly the blanket around it burst into flame, setting Essa's robes alight along with them. The acolyte began screaming, but for some reason she didn't drop the scepter as she waved and spun frantically about the room.

Orrin seemed immobilized with shock, and Marus knew he needed to act quickly. He grabbed up the topmost blanket off of the girl on the bed and threw it over Essa to smother the flames before knocking the scepter out of her hand. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and rolled into a corner where it stopped when it hit the wall. The crystals had turned an angry shade of red.

Marus concerned himself first with Essa, beating out the last of the flames with another blanket off the bed before removing the first blanket from over her. Orrin moved in and began chanting right away, working a healing spell. Marus added his own prayers to it, attempting to add strength to the spell in case it should fail. Essa's arms were badly burned, and there were lighter burns on most of her upper torso and some of her face. Her hands were nearly burned away. Her eyes were wide with shock and pain and she shook violently in Marus' arms.

The healing prayer, however, seemed to work. Marus felt the scepter trying to pull the warmth from the spell, however, and they ended up moving to another room to try a second time before she was fully healed. The shock was still there though, and the two priests turned her over to one of the priestesses after a short explanation of what had happened. Essa was taken away to be bathed and soothed and bundled into fresh robes. Meanwhile, Orrin and Marus held a quick conference in the hallway.

"First we need to heal the girl," Marus said. "In order to do that, I suggest we move her away from the scepter, as we did with Essa. Then we'll need to confer with the Bishop on how to destroy the thing."

"I agree," Orrin nodded. "Do you have any ide -"

"RIGHT COMPONENT!" Alldeh's voice startled both priests, and Marus realized they'd been standing right next to the man's door while they talked. From inside, Alldeh sounded as if he was alternating between beating his fists against the door and throwing himself against it.

"HURRY!" Alldeh screamed from behind the door. "COVER IT QUICKLY! HE CAN SEE ME!"

"What is his problem now?" Orrin asked, shaking his head.

"I don't know," Marus admitted, rubbing his temple absently with one hand. "Why don't you move the girl and I'll try to calm him down. Put her in the end room and I'll meet you there. Oh, and once you've got her moved, lock the room she's in right now. We don't need anyone else touching that...thing."

He opened Alldeh's door and left Orrin in the hallway. What he saw in Alldeh's room took the breath from his chest. Nearly every inch of the walls was covered in crudely drawn pictures and symbols. Most of them looked like ones Alldeh had drawn before, but he had never been so thorough.

Without counting there were at least twenty images of the scepter now lying in the other room. There were images of eyes in many places as well. Most of the eyes had exes drawn through them. One eye image had four parallel lines through it.

"COVER IT!" Alldeh insisted again.

"Cover what, Alldeh?" Marus asked hollowly, overwhelmed by it all.

Suddenly Alldeh was calm. He just stood there, swaying side to side slightly. Marus guided the man over to his bed, and helped him to sit on the edge of it. "It'll all be alright," he assured the poor broken man.

"Hope so," Alldeh said without looking at him.

Alldeh began humming to himself, an off-key rendition of a lullaby that mothers had been singing to their children for longer than Marus had been alive. Once he was sure that Alldeh was going to remain calm for the moment, Marus studied some of the images in more detail. It was very clearly the same scepter that had just burned Essa. Marus' heart raced, as possibilities poured through his mind. He was starting to wonder what other things might be locked away in Alldeh's broken mind. He worried that maybe Alldeh had once served whatever god the scepter was a totem to. Alldeh did have some odd tatoos, though faded and seemingly mundane in nature. Marus had healed Alldeh on more than a few occasions, however, and had never felt the cold pull that he had experienced near the scepter. His gut instincts told him that Alldeh wasn't the enemy here, but that maybe he knew something. He found himself shaking his head and rubbing his temple again.

"We've moved the girl," Father Orrin broke into Marus' thoughts as he poked his head barely inside the door.

"Yes, I'm coming." Marus stood up and left Alldeh still sitting on the bed, humming. He saw one of the acolytes with the keys, about to lock the door to the room the scepter was in.

"Just a moment," he said, stopping the acolyte. He stepped inside and looked at the scepter, lying on the floor against the wall. It no longer glowed, and didn't look as dangerous just then. He moved across the room, grabbing up one of the remaining blankets off the bed and tossed it over the scepter, before moving any of the wooden furniture that seemed too close. The stone walls would keep the scepter from burning the infirmary down if it set the blanket on fire, Marus figured. He had a feeling that he'd just done what Alldeh had been asking, however. He also took the rest of the backpack and dumped it out onto the bed, leaving it there for further inspection later. At a cursory glance nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.

He stepped back outside the room and nodded to the acolyte, who locked the door and then headed back towards the main infirmary. Then Orrin led him down to the room where the girl had been moved. She was still unconscious, but moaned and writhed on the bed now. Another acolyte, a young man named Sirkin, had taken Essa's place. He dabbed a damp cloth against the girl's face and neck.

"Her fever has spiked," he said when they entered the room. "If the healing doesn't work now, we're going to lose her. She's much hotter than she ought to be."

Again Marus said the words. Warmth flowed into the girl. Her body glowed, shining with divine light. The rot retreated, reversing its spread, and new, healthy flesh replaced it. That continued until the only mark on her leg was the original wound. Then that closed up as well and the glow faded away.

The girl woke with a start, sitting right up. She looked at her legs, gasped, and fainted.

Orrin exhaled audibly as if he had been holding his breath. Marus could feel the tension draining out of the room, and supposed he could imagine someone holding their breath during such a healing without even realizing it.

The girl's breathing was deep and regular, so he saw no reason for him to stay just then. "Let her sleep," he said softly. "I'm sure she needs it. But come get me when she wakes. I'd like to hear her story."

Sirkin covered her up with a sheet and light blanket before they all stepped out into the hallway. Marus paused outside Alldeh's room. "I'm going to take a minute to look at what the poor man has drawn today," he let the others know. Sirkin nodded, and Orrin mentioned having other tasks to attend to.

Marus slipped into the room quietly, as he often did. Alldeh was curled up asleep on the floor in one corner of the room. Marus closed the door again careful not to wake him.

Father Marus cast a frown towards the locked door, wondering more about the scepter and how Alldeh could have drawn it without ever seeing it. Questions spun in his head as he made his way out of the infirmary and back towards the Bishop's office. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain all of it to the Bishop, but he knew that something had to be done about the scepter. He didn't think the Bishop was going to like the idea of some evil god's relic sitting in their church. Marus didn't like it himself. He expected the Bishop would have a way of destroying it.

He knocked gently on the Bishop's closed door, hoping he wasn't about to interrupt anything important. When the Bishop answered, Marus was relieved to find that there was no one already sitting in the office with him. Still, he winced as the door squeaked while he entered the room and closed it behind him.

"Ahh, Marus," the Bishop greeted him. "I've been expecting you." Bishop Doran pushed aside some papers he'd been looking at. His own pile was not unlike the one still waiting on Marus' desk. "Please, sit down."

Confused, Marus took one of the chairs seated across from the Bishop at the other side of the desk. He waited for the Bishop to speak first, wondering if someone had already told Doran of the scepter.

"I take it you've healed the girl?" the Bishop asked. To Marus, it sounded as if the Bishop already knew the answer. Marus found himself nodding slowly in response.

"Good," Doran nodded and smiled. There was a long pause, during which the Bishop seemed to be thinking. Marus was nearly about to speak up and mention the scepter when Doran finally spoke.

"I imagine you've found it difficult, these past years, with the Gods not communicating with you in any way other than allowing you their power for healing and other tasks." This time it was a statement, but Doran ended it as a question, cocking his head slightly as he looked across the desk. Marus found himself caught off guard by it, not sure what kind of reply the Bishop was looking for.

"I didn't know you knew," Marus managed to say.

The truth was that it had been difficult. The gods had often spoken with him in his early years in the priesthood. As the years went by, it became a little less frequent. And then nearly four years ago it had stopped completely. They still granted him power when he needed it, allowing him to serve them still, but it had seemed they no longer had anything to say to him.

He had spent a great deal of time over the years trying to understand what he might have done to disappoint them. He had tried to find a way to make it up to them, to absolve himself of the unknown sin.

"There isn't supposed to be much that happens here that I do not know of, Father Marus," the bishop said in his grandfatherly way. "When you were a child Ogrun came to you and answered a prayer personally, isn't that so?"

"Yes. When my mother was killed. It was an accident, but at the time I didn't see it that way. I prayed for the strength to take revenge. He told me that revenge was an act of weakness, not of strength. He told me that there was a path that would make a difference, and asked me to consider the priesthood. But that was a long time ago."

"Theran would say that sometimes, it is not the path we walk that matters," the bishop said, "but the path we leave behind us for others to follow."

"But now the gods have a path in mind for you, Father Marus. Forces and people are converging. A wizard is coming here. There is something she must do, which she cannot do by herself. That scepter the girl brough with her is part of it. You will go with them. They will need your guidance if they are to succeed. They must succeed."

"I... but..." Marus found himeself all but stuttering. "A wizard? You already know about the scepter? What?..." He found himself throwing up his hands in his confusion. "I don't understand."

"The Elar are coming, Marus," the Bishop said quietly. "But they, themselves are not the problem. It is the one that leads them that must be stopped. That scepter is a totem to him. A powerful one. And it can, somehow, be used to stop him. You have been chosen to help make this happen."

"I... how long have you known this was coming?" Marus felt as if he had been struck.

"The Gods have been warning me of this for some time now. How long is irrelavent. There were and still are many things that could change the course of events. They have seen the future, predicted what might be, but it is not written in stone. You and others are needed to go on this journey. The wizard who comes here, and the warrior who protects her. That girl who brought the scepter. They are a part of this. As is that poor man you've been watching over for so long. Alldeh. He must go on this journey with you as well."

"Alldeh?!" Marus sputtered, astonished. "He's not fit to let out into the rest of the infirmary, much less travel! And he's been worse as of late."

"Yet the Gods have made it clear to me that he is vital to this quest, Marus. Part of the reason you have been chosen for this is his trust for you."

Marus sighed, trying to piece it all together in his mind. He had a feeling that he needn't bother mentioning that Alldeh had drawn the scepter on the walls of his room. Quite a few things seemed suddenly less important at the moment.

"A wizard?" he finally asked. "The Gods sanction this? We usually discourage others from tapping into energy that is not granted by the divine will of the Gods."

"Perhaps you've forgotten some of your teachings, Marus. Theran is reputed to have been a wizard in his mortal time. Ardana was a druid. The Gods have never forbidden the use of magic, although it is in their best interest for there to be more priests than wizards overall. It is the church that has discouraged it over the years. While the Gods speak to us and give us the power to do their will, remember that the words of our doctrine have been written by men. While I agree that it is safer to use the power only as the Gods themselves allow, it is not a sin to use magic itself. It is in how a person uses that magic, and for what purpose that defines whether that person is good or evil. In history, there have been many wizards who have wielded their magic abilities as weapons to gain them power over others. Unfortunately, they have made more of a lasting impact than the many wizards who try to use their magic for good. This, too, has skewed the overall church standing on the matter. We have not seen a wizard like Theran in a long, long time. He used older magic that is no longer known. Perhaps that is part of it as well. Some have argued that the type of magic he knew is now only known to the Gods and is divine in and of itself. Some feel that the newer, ritual magic, that wizards use is unholy. I feel the Gods themselves would intervene if it was."

Marus sat quietly for a moment, thinking on what the Bishop had just said. He couldn't disagree, but had always held the belief that wizards and others who meddled with forces not granted by the Gods were sinning in some way.

"The Gods do not simply step in and solve our problems for us," the bishop reminded. "They will help us, but it should be our actions shaping our lives. Take the wisdom and guidance of the Gods with you on this quest."

There was a knock at the door.

"Come," the bishop answered.

The door opened slowly and an acolyte leaned around it into the room. The door creaked and the acolyte cringed. Marus smiled, knowing how the young man felt. The door never creaked when the bishop used it. Whenever he was asked about it, just would just smile with a humble shrug and say that the door must appreciate piety.

"There's a couple outside," the young acolyte informed them. "A knight, I think, and a girl. They're asking for Father Marus. Oh, hello, Father. We've been looking for you."

"Of course," the bishop said before Marus could reply. "We've been expecting them. Give them a place to wash up from their travels, and inform them that Father Marus will see them shortly. Care for their horses and give them rooms. They'll be staying until morning."

"Oh, I see," the acolyte replied.

The bishop nodded and he acolyte withdrew, closing the door behind him.

"I take it that means I'm leaving in the morning as well," Marus asked.

"Yes, all five of you, with the scepter."

"Speaking of that, does the girl Niza have any idea what's going on?"

"I'm not sure, although I honestly doubt it."

"And I'm supposed to tell her all this?" Marus sighed, suddenly thinking the paperwork on his desk had more appeal than it had earlier.

"She has just been brought back from the edge of death, Marus. I expect that will make her somewhat receptive." The Bishop smiled. "You might want the wizard with for that as well, since she's closer in age and has accepted that she has a part to play in this."

"So this scepter is a totem to an Elar god and we must use it to stop him somehow." Marus reviewed in his mind. "Do we have any idea of how to do this?"

"He's not a God. Not yet. But he is growing in power. If I am understanding what I have been told, the means to stop him is locked in Alldeh's mind somewhere. You are to head away from the Elar for now. The rest will hopefully fall into place as you go."

"What about the church? When the Elar reach here, if they are using demons to fight their battles now, you will need all the help you can get."

"Let us worry about the Elar conjurers and their demons, Marus," the Bishop replied, smiling again. "The sooner you and the others can complete this quest, the less likely it will become that we will have to fight them, although they have been moving faster than anyone predicted, to be sure. There is also the matter of a small detachment that was sent after the scepter, following Niza. They should arrive sooner. Let us hope they make the mistake of stopping here to ask questions along the way. Then they, at least, will not be trying to stop you. I will see to that."

The Bishop had an odd smile on his face as he rose from his chair and went over to an old chest he had in one corner of the room. Dust flew everywhere as he lifted the lid on it. He lifted out what appeared to be a heavy burden of blankets and set it on the desk between them, ignoring papers that were covered or scattered in the process. Puzzled, Marus found himself leaning forward as Doran pulled the blankets back. Beneath lay a gleaming sword and scabbard with a set of chainmail armor and a shield, all bearing the symbols of the Gods. Marus looked up at the Bishop, stunned.

"I don't suppose I ever mentioned the order I was with before I came here, have I Marus? I was not always so old and, um... well-fed as I am today." He patted his ample stomach with a wry grin. "I think, perhaps, that you can make far better use of these items than I."

"But they could be used here, Bishop. To defend the church. I don't even know how to hold a sword, much less strike someone with it. We have always used peaceful means to resolve conflict whenever possible." He had a chill run down his spine at the idea of using a sword, even to defend himself. He couldn't imagine the Bishop doing the same.

"Your task is more important, even than this church, Marus. I have not been told as much, but from the sound of things the Elar are taking power away from the Gods and giving it to the one that the scepter is for. If you do not succeed, our ways, our religion, may be lost forever. Even the Elar are not entirely aware of what is happening. We have more power, right now, in this church at our disposal to fight with. And we will not make the mistake of assuming that this can be resolved any other way than by fighting, as some of the early churches did. Perhaps this church will hold simply because I was once a warrior priest. I also have a book for you, of incantations you may not be as well-versed in, to call upon the power of the Gods to assist you in battle. Learn them well. I don't doubt you will need them."

"Were I a younger man, Marus, I would take on this task for you, Gods willing. But they have left this upon you and I would see you armed and armored for the journey ahead. Your faith has always been strong, and your heart well-placed, and I have no doubts that you will use these items with honor. The armor alone made the difference between success and failure on more than a few occasions for me. The sword is more than just a weapon. It is a totem to the Gods in it's own right, forged in part using divine power. Perhaps, as you travel, the warrior will show you how to weild it." The Bishop stepped over and pulled a book from one of the bookshelves against the wall, blowing the dust off of the top of it as he did. He took a moment to dip his pen and write something inside the cover, pouring some powder over it and blowing on it to hasten the drying process before blotting it. He then handed the book over to Marus.

The cover bore the insignia of a warrior priest. Inside, he saw that Doran had added Marus' name to a list of three other men who'd owned the book before, Doran Endrazen being the third name down. He suddenly realized he'd never known the Bishop's last name. He'd heard, however, of a Father Endrazen, who'd been in several battles that excited students still recounted at night in their bunks. Marus himself had marvelled over Endrazen and other warrior priests once himself. He paled to realize the man had been here all along. Doran gave him a sly smile, as if he knew what was running through Marus' mind.

"Take those to your room," Doran suggested, "before meeting the wizard and warrior."

"Of course, Father," Marus replied. "Thank you."

"I suspect it is I that should be thanking you."

Marus draped the armor over his arm. It wasn't as heavy as he expected it to be. The sword had a belt attached to the scabbard, so he slung it over his shoulder. He gave a final nod to the bishop before heading to his room.

He passed a monk who was checking lamps in the hallway. The monk gave him a curious look as he passed.

He laid the armor across his bed, and the sword next to it. His room felt smaller, more humble now than it had just this morning. He wondered where he would be sleeping tomorrow night.

He put the thought out of his mind and headed to the guest rooms, taking his time. The two would have been given adjacent rooms, and they should have been given water. He stopped at the kitchens on his way for some fruit to offer them.

A nun in the kitchens confirmed which two rooms the guests were in. He knocked at the first one and it was a girl's face that appeared when the door opened a moment afterwards.

The girl immediately stepped back, nearly tripping. The door swung open, pulled by her hand reaching for balance. She did keep her feet, and as the door opened Marus saw a strong looking man sitting in a chair. The man rose quickly.

"Fa-Father Marus?" the girl asked, a little wide eyed.

"You look as if you're seeing a ghost, young lady," he said, attempting a reassuring smile. "I am Father Marus Rollin. May I come in?"

"Please do, Father," the man said, stepping forward and touching the girl's shoulder. She gave him a quick look before nodding at Marus and stepping back into the room so Marus could enter.

"I brought some fruit," Marus told them, holding out the bowl. "I thought you might be hungry after your travels."

"Thank you, Father," the man said, taking the bowl with one hand and extending the other in greeting. "I'm Ullden and this is Jetha."

He shook hands with Ullden, noting the man's firm, confident grip. He extended a hand to Jetha who took it briefly before all but snatching it away again. She still looked at him as if he was going to bite. Ullden gestured to the chair he had been sitting on, moving over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Why don't we all sit down and talk for a bit," the warrior suggested with a smile. He scooted the small bedside table into the middle and set the bowl on top of it.

Marus sat on the chair indicated and Jetha returned to the one she'd been sitting on before. For a moment, there was an awkward silence that fell over the small room. Ullden seemed to be watching Jetha, as if waiting for her to speak first. Jetha stared at the fruit bowl with a worried expression on her face. Marus looked back and forth between them, wondering how much they knew in comparison to what he'd just been told by the Bishop. Marus was just about to break the silence himself when Ullden cleared his throat.

"Well," the warrior said. "I suppose we'd better start with why we're here. And why we asked for you specifically. You see, we're on a quest, Father, and we need your help with it."

"I know," Marus said, taking advantage of the pause in Ullden's speech. Jetha looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes. "I've just come from an interesting conversation with my Bishop. It seems the Gods wish me to accompany you on this quest along with a couple of others we've been caring for here. Perhaps the best place to start with is just how much we each know about what it is we are supposed to do."

"Others?" Jetha asked. "There's supposed to be six of us we think. Some of the others are here?"

"Six? How do we come upon that number?" Marus asked.

"I... um... " Jetha faltered, her face growing pale again.

"The girl's a wizard, Father," Ullden said. "She had some premonition spell go awry and give her visions of all of us."

"I saw a vision of Ardana first, as if she changed my spell," Jetha added. Out of reflex, Marus found himself inhaling sharply at what she had said and he saw the girl cringe, as if waiting for his reprimand.

"I see," he said quietly, thinking on it for a moment before saying more.

"I'm not lying," she said defensively. He could see the girl's eyes welling with tears. "I saw you, and Ullden, and myself. And I saw others too."

"I believe you, Jetha," Marus said slowly. He could tell the girl had already spoken with a priest about her visions. He'd obviously been especially hard on the girl. The Bishop's words played back in his head.

"Did you know Theran was a wizard before he ascended to become a God?" he told the girl. "It's not something that is widely known by those outside the Church. Especially considering the Church's overall standing on those who use magic not granted by the Gods. It's not something I'm accustomed to reminding myself, but I will try to do so while we are traveling together, young lady. So long as you do not use magic for evil, we should have no quarrel in regards to your spellcasting."

"Magic isn't--"

Marus raised his hand, interrupting her. "We will have ample time for theological and philosophical discussions later. For the moment, why don't we hold off on those until after we've had a chance to get to know each other? Don't you agree that that makes sense?"

"Yes, I suppose," the girl said.

"Very well, then," Marus continued. "Why don't you tell me a little bit about the vision you had. That sounds a good place to start to me." Jetha gulped before she started.

"I also have a couple of notebooks. One is from my teacher and the other is from a seer who has also been having visions."

"Duke Lagenz's seer, I take it?" he offered.

"Yes, Vera," she replied, looking a bit startled. "She has also had the number six come up in her readings. But I saw six people. I saw myself, and you, and Ullden here, a girl about my age running away from something--but it wasn't me--and some savage woman in chains, and another man in a cave drawing symbols."

"There was actually a seventh figure, a strange looking man, an evil man. I think seeing him was more of a warning than anything else."

"I see," Marus said, mulling that over in his mind. "My Bishop informed me earlier that there are two others here who should accompany us. A girl who arrived here wounded and is recovering in our infirmary, and a man whom I've been caring for for some time now. I will be curious to see if you recognize either of them from your visions. What else have you been able to figure out so far?"

"That's most of what we have, Father," Ullden answered. "Vera wrote down what she saw. She seems to believe we have to do something that will put an end to the Elar strength and give us at least a fighting chance. That there is a demon behind this somehow. More than that we really don't know. We were actually hoping that you might be able to fill in more."

"I was only just informed of all of this a short while ago myself, to be honest," Marus admitted. "The Gods spoke to my Bishop, who has told me that I must go with you. He has told me we should leave in the morning and head away from the Elar armies. There is a scepter that the other girl brought here. A totem to an evil man, perhaps this demon you speak of, who is gaining power. We must somehow use this scepter to stop him. The man in my care knows something that will help us, although he is... not altogether sane."

"Forgive me for asking, Father, but why did the Gods not speak to you directly?" Ullden asked. Marus felt himself flare up defensively, but could tell that the man didn't intend it as any attack.

"It is not my place to question the wisdom of the Gods," he answered. "I'm sure they had their reasons. I don't think I was meant to know any of this until this very day. Perhaps knowing sooner might have changed things in the wrong way." He shrugged, to let the others know he was not going to be bothered by it. He was not about to mention to these strangers that the Gods had not spoken to him directly in years.

"Well, there is a little time before dinner yet," he said, hoping to change the subject a little. "I'll have to see if young Niza is up to joining us for it. She may be. The other one I'm less sure of."

"You had mentioned note books," he reminded them. "I don't suppose any of them mentioned anything that might suggest a direction to head?"

They both seemed to think for a moment and then slowly shake their heads. He was not surprised. He thought suddenly of all the drawing that Alldeh had scratched onto his walls over the years. Some of them he had found interesting and had copied himself. Most of them he had passed over as meaningless scribbles. He sighed, silently chiding himself for being so stupid.

"No matter," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "The gods have had a hand in this from the start. They won't start us off just wandering aimlessly."

He rose from his chair. "For the moment, rest until dinner. If you have things which need mending I can have that seen to tonight. We'll leave in the morning. For right now, I am not without duties to attend to. We can talk more over dinner."

The others rose from their chairs and he gave them a nod and turned for the door. He closed it behind him and shook his head as he walked, wondering what kind of help Alldeh would need traveling.

He stopped off at the kitchens and arranged for a small table to one side for dinner, to afford the group a little privacy. He then made his way to his office, where he found one of the other priests, Father Nichols, standing outside. Father Nichols was still young, one of the more recent to achieve the title of Priest, and he nearly jumped when Marus cleared his throat.

"What can I do for you, Father Nichols?" Marus asked, opening the door to his office and gesturing for the young man to follow him inside.

"The Bishop, sir, has asked that... um..." Nichols hestitated, seeming unsure of how to proceed. Marus turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"If the Bishop has sent you, it must be important. What is it?"

"He said that you would be leaving tomorrow, and that someone had to..." he trailed off, gesturing weakly at the desk and office around them. Suddenly, Marus realized why the young man was there.

"I see," he said. "You'll be taking over for me in my absence then, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Nichols said, looking obviously relieved. "The Bishop asks that you fill me in on what you've been working on so that I may begin immediately, while you are still available to ask questions of."

"Sit down, then Nichols," Marus said, pulling a chair around the desk and next to his own. "We don't have a lot of time to do this in."

They spent the better part of the time until dinner going over the stack of papers on Marus' desk and the items he had carefully marked down on his schedule for the upcoming weeks. By the time they were through, the young man seemed a bit overwhelmed by it all. Marus took a couple of items from the office to take with him on his travels, a couple of books, notes from Alldeh's drawings, empty notebooks, and writing supplies, leaving the rest in Nichols' hands. He thought Nichols would be capable enough to handle the job, as long as he didn't allow it to overwhelm him entirely.

He stopped at his room to drop things off, realizing he'd need to start packing that evening if he was to leave in the morning. He only had a short time before dinner, however, and made his way to the infirmary instead. He knew he'd need to talk to Niza before introducing her to the others, assuming she felt up to it. He found the girl in the room they'd healed her in, dressed in fresh clothes and sitting on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. She looked up warily when he entered the room. His eyes caught sight of her backpack, stuck just under one corner of the bed. He wondered if all of her belongings had been returned to her. He also found himself wondering about the scepter, presumably still laying, covered, in the corner of the locked room nearby.

"Hello, Niza," he said softly. He moved closer and sat at the foot of her bed. She turned to face him and scooted back a little.

"The people who brought you here told us your name, but they didn't seem to know very much about you," he explained. He had anticipated that she'd wonder how he knew her name, and he hoped he had reassured her by explaining.

"You're a very lucky young woman. I'm Father Marus, by the way."

"Am I really all healed?"

"Physically, yes. I think whatever you've been through recently has been very hard on you. Some of that may take some time to recover from, but the physical wound is gone."

Her eyes darted briefly over to her backpack. "I had a..."

"You had one rather interesting item in your backpack, yes. It was preventing the wound from healing. It prevented us from healing you, as well, until we figured out that it was the problem. It's sitting in a nearby room. I can assure you no one here will touch it but you."

"Tell you what," he said, rising. "Why don't we go get it for you?"

She nodded and slowly stood up, still looking aprehensive. They went out into the hallway, where Marus asked her to wait a minute while he went to get the key from whichever priest or priestess currently had charge of the infirmary. It took Mother Danaru a few moments to find it, as she had only just begun her shift and though she had been told to keep the door locked, someone had forgotten to mention where the key was being kept. Once he had it, he returned to the hallway. As he approached, Niza was no longer in the hallway. The lock hung open and the door was slightly ajar. From the other side of the hallway, Alldeh was screaming again.

"Cover it! COVER IIIIIIIITTT!"

Marus ran quickly into the unlocked room, where he found Niza standing in the corner with the scepter held in both hands. It glowed again and his heart raced, hoping it wasn't about to burn the girl as it had Essa. Niza stood like a statue, just looking at it, a mixture of awe and fear on her face. He reached towards her, unsure of exactly what to do.

"Niza?" he said softly, not wanting to startle her. "I think it would be best to keep it wrapped in a blanket. It's not safe."

For a moment, it seemed as if she hadn't heard him. Then, in one quick motion, she bent down and snatched up the blanket that had been covering it on the floor, wrapping the scepter tightly into it. Then she looked up at Father Marus with tear-filled eyes.

"I didn't mean to take it, I swear," she said in a shaky voice. "I haven't been able to leave it behind either. I wanted to. I still want to. But I can't seem to. What do I do Father? Can you help me? Am I cursed?"

"It's not a curse, child. More a calling. You are able to carry it somewhat safely, when it would harm others in more terrible ways. I'm afraid you'll need to carry it a bit further yet. But you won't be alone anymore. I promise."

"I don't understand. Am I being punished? Have the Gods really forsaken me after all?" The tears in her eyes began to roll down her cheeks.

"Not at all!" He stepped forward, being careful not to come into contact with the bundle in her arms as he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "If the Gods had forsaken you, Niza, they would not have allowed Father Orrin and I to heal your wounds. On the contrary. The Gods have chosen you to carry this burden, as they have chosen me to go with you while you do it. There are others who have been chosen to go as well." Her hair was a ragged mess, as if it hadn't been cut in a long time and even then with a blunt knife in amature hands. He pushed some of it back from her face. "Let's go back to your room and tuck that away," he added, pointing at the bundled scepter. "Then I'll explain what I can to you before dinner."

It felt odd to him how casually she carried it back to her room. It had been so dangerous to touch, and now looked so harmless. He wondered if it actually was dangerous for anyone but her to carry it or whether it was the attempts at healing that had made it dangerous. He wasn't willing to test it himself. She could safely carry it, she could continue to do so.

"I am sorry for going through your things," he said to her as he closed the door to her room behind them. "Ordinarily we would never do such a thing, but in your case we had to make sure you weren't carrying anything else that was preventing the healing. I assure you nothing has been taken from you."

"I don't have much to take," she said, dropping her head. Her hands shook as she set the bundled scepter down on her bed. "If you healed me, why do I still feel so weak?" she asked.

"You've nearly starved to death. You need food to get your strength back. That will take a few days, if not several. I'll arrange horses for us, so you won't have to go straight to long days of walking right away."

"I think the Elar are chasing me," she said suddenly.

"That scepter is theirs," he explained, "they want it back. They're probably rather angry at you for taking it, because it has to be important to them. But the Gods themselves probably had a hand in getting you to take it. Little things steering your path to it. That is how they work sometimes. They never control our actions, but they will give us nudges in the right direction."

"Evil gods and demons use people as pawns," he continued, "but not our Gods. The Holy Four are loving and compassionate, and look out for us. But, just as parents must sometimes let children make mistakes to learn, so the Gods must let us live our lives as we choose."

"The priests and priestesses in Riverport," she said softly. "The Elar chained most of them inside the church and then burned it down with them inside. The rest of them were fed to the demon when they were found."

A chill ran down Marus' spine. His worries flickered briefly to the men and women in his church. Will Bishop Doran be able to stop them from doing the same here? he thought with a heaviness in his heart. These people have been my family for so long. It would be arrogant to think my presence here might make the difference for them though. But will the Gods protect them? Or am I leaving everyone I love behind to die here?"

"Why didn't the Gods do something to save them?" Niza asked him, mirroring some of his own thoughts.

"Sometimes the Gods do not intervene for reasons of their own," he said, as much reminding himself as telling her. "They do not always work in ways we can understand. That's part of what faith is, however. We have to trust in them that they are looking to even more important matters when it seems they have forgotten us. Those priests and priestesses chose to serve the Gods in both life and death. I am sure that they gave their lives for a greater purpose."

She nodded slowly, and the look on her face told him that she was a little wiser than her years. He wondered how much childhood she'd actually gotten to have if she grew up on the city streets. He found himself resolving to find out more as time permitted.

"Let's put that away for now and then get you some dinner," he told her, pointing at the bundled scepter. "There are others who will be traveling with us and you can meet some of them while we eat if you are feeling up to it."

"Where are we going? When do we leave?" she asked, stuffing the bundle into her backpack and tucking it further under the bed. The ease with which she accepted that she was going somewhere surprised him. For some reason he had expected her to argue the fact. He suspected that the girl just wanted to be further away from the Elar.

"The Gods will guide us to our destination," he said, standing up and gesturing for her to follow him. "We know to head away from the Elar at least. We leave in the morning." He waited a moment as she stood up and followed him out into the hallway. Then, as they made their way to the dining hall, he filled her in on some of the details about their quest and the others. He stopped briefly at the door to Alldeh's room, but the man was sleeping on the cot, seeming almost peaceful. He left the man to his rest, already making a list in his mind of things he would need to collect and bring with in order to best care for the man while on the road.

Seeing the toll it had already taken on young Niza, Father Marus Rolin began to realize just how difficult the task ahead was likely to be. It almost made him wish for the stacks of paperwork back.