Chapter 52: 52. What The Priestess Saw

Excerpt from the Oracle at Fhahrazad’s ‘Thirty-Three Eventualities.’

“The first sign of the twenty-eighth eventuality is a disruption of the moon. Its appearance shall become distorted, yet the people of the world shall fail to observe it. The firmament shall be made dark for seven days and seven nights. At this sign’s coming, the advent of the twenty-eighth eventuality is nigh.”

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Despite the early departure, it was late afternoon before the expedition encountered civilization again. Hilbar, situated perfectly on Milur’s border, was an especially remote location within the state. During her time spent with Aroearoe, Yenna asked about the manor.

“It’s a hunting lodge.” The head of House Deepstar had been particularly dismissive of the manor, a building that could have comfortably housed nearly half of the population of Yenna’s hometown. “It has its perks—it isn’t owned by any of the Houses, so it’s common ground. The priesthood of the moon maintains it, and those who pay their tithe may use it. It makes for a passable place to do business outside of prying eyes, with a reasonable excuse as to ‘chance meetings’.”

“It is shrouded by the moon’s light.” Suee picked up where Aroearoe left off. “The manor was built in ages past, though the lunar observatory is older. That it would be attacked is a troubling omen, though we are fortunate for the moon’s blessing.”

Fortunate was one word for it. Despite all the fascinating things in Hilbar—the elevator, the observatory, the manor itself—Yenna would like nothing more than to forget about it, and all that took place there. Hilbar had vanished immediately out of sight through trees and around bends in the road, and Yenna was happier for it.

The carriage stopped just outside of a small town late in the afternoon. For Yenna, the comfortable ride had flown by—everyone in the carriage was inclined to silence, leaving the mage to her reading. Still, she couldn’t help but notice Narasanha peering over her shoulder—Yenna wondered if the taciturn warrior wasn’t interested in learning magic, though she had hastily turned away whenever Yenna moved her book closer.

Yenna was still glad to stretch her legs, though the air was cold enough to make her shiver. The town, a little place called Vener, was tucked away in a small valley filled with dark trees. The mage couldn’t help but be a little delighted by the unusual look of the buildings here—they were nothing like Aulprean architecture, which favoured wide, single-storey houses. Instead, these Miluran buildings were tall and narrow, packed together in the scant amount of flat space available to the town. Made from the local dark wood, they showed an exceptional mastery of carpentry—Yenna couldn’t spot a single nail or magical binding on any of the buildings, with even the glass of windows held in place by secure wooden frames.

Aroearoe remained behind in her carriage, and Sergeant Myuu stayed with her. Evidently, the head of House Deepstar didn’t want to ‘alarm the commonfolk’ with her presence—Yenna suspected the sight of a small Miluran town at the base of a beautiful valley wouldn’t match up to whatever splendour Aroearoe usually lived in. As before, the rest of the crew had spread themselves through the town to either perform various tasks or relax. Yenna had thought to have a moment to herself, belatedly realising several minutes in that she had been followed.

A sharp intake of breath—the tiniest hint of surprise—perked Yenna’s ear up and caused her to look away from a rather beautiful little shrine. She turned to see Narasanha staring at an inky blot that Yenna’s eyes eventually resolved into the form of the priestess Suee, a hand on an axe at her hip.

“Why are you sneaking about?” Narasanha wore a distinct frown on her face, though Yenna thought she looked a bit embarrassed about something.

“I am not sneaking. I am observing—as are you.” Suee gave a serene nod, her whispered voice still audible at a distance—some kind of magic, perhaps?

“I’m not– I’m just– I was ensuring our mage was not accosted again.” The bodyguard gave an annoyed huff. “I must check on the captain—you can keep an eye on her.”

With that, Narasanha walked away with a surprising amount of haste, nearly bowling over a resident of the town as she disappeared around a corner. Suee continued staring at Yenna, and the mage made sure not to look away from her—it was obnoxiously difficult to find the priestess again. The unusual scene that had played out in front of her aside, Yenna was curious how that was achieved.

“Why is it so hard to see you?” Yenna made her way over to where the priestess was standing, several paces away—a passerby gave Yenna an odd look, and gasped as she realised the mage wasn’t talking to herself.

“You really do focus on what stands immediately before you, don’t you? Haven’t you much larger mysteries to unravel?”

The mage opened her mouth to respond, and shut it. She definitely had a point—sometimes academic curiosity could be blinding. Turning away, Yenna looked back at the shrine she had been looking over moments before. It was a small thing, no bigger than a house one might keep a pet inside of, featuring a carved rendition of the sun and moon hanging high over various figures Yenna didn’t recognise. An unusual technique had been used with its lacquer coating to give everything a glossy, painted look—as though it was a scene painted on canvas that the viewer could walk around.

“I suppose you’ve got some answers about Tirk, then?” Yenna looked over her left shoulder, realising she had lost sight of the priestess.

An answer came from her right side. “Nothing you would consider useful. While deep in prayer, I beheld a vision of a strange assortment assembled before a font of knowledge—a silupker, a spirit, a child, a doctor… and a priestess.”

It didn’t take much of a leap for Yenna to figure out what she meant. “I assume you want to join in on one of my lessons? I was hoping to teach my new students a bit more tomorrow, if we had a chance. I don’t know how long it will take us to reach the capital, or how much time I’ll have for lessons during our journey.”

“I beheld this vision under the midday sun, though its accuracy fills me with uncertainty. Portents and premonitions despise your nature, mage scorned by fate.”

Suee’s words lingered in the air for a moment—it made Yenna unreasonably anxious to hear the priestess speak about the mage’s unusual relationship with fate.

“Why exactly do you–”

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“Not here.” Suee held up a hand, gently tapping the tips of her fingers to Yenna’s chin.

Yenna stepped back, now a little flustered. “Is… is it some secret of your cul– religion?”

“No. It is time to eat. My last meal was a blessed piece of falling toast. We shall speak over more substantial fare.”

The priestess immediately walked away, and Yenna hurried to follow her—if she lost sight of Suee while she was in motion, Yenna would never find her again. 

They walked in tandem, coming across a tavern by the town’s main road. The silupker Chime was taking up most of the space on the road, yet curious townsfolk didn’t seem to mind—the silupker was in an animated conversation with an elderly man as Eone and Muut negotiated with a local grocer, and several members of the crew were chatting away with the locals. Yenna spotted Denn, the crewman who had helped her splint her wrist the other day, and the man gave her a wave—the mage sheepishly returned it.

Though it was slightly too early for dinner, and a little late for lunch, the innkeep was more than happy to oblige with a filling meal. A warm, vegetable-filled soup with chunks of game meat served with small loaves of freshly baked bread made for an excellent meal, but the insistence of the innkeep that the captain had already paid for everyone’s meals made for an excellent treat. Not that Yenna was poor—the captain’s egregious overpayment had settled that.

Suee had eaten in silence—Yenna didn’t hear so much as a slurp or chew from her. They sat comfortably on a set of pillows the innkeep had kindly brought out for his kesh guests, placed slightly to one side. The narrow arrangement of the furniture in the inn wasn’t particularly conducive to the length of kesh bodies, so they had opted to avoid proceeding too far in—better to be sat in a corner of the establishment than have to awkwardly shuffle their deer-like lower bodies around tables and chairs.

“Now, your question. You wished to know why I believe you so disdained by fate.” 

Suee grabbed the tip of one of her fingers and pulled, sliding her hand free of her long glove. She repeated the process with her other hand, revealing smooth, dark skin marred only by tiny splotches of pale white. It looked as though a painter had flicked clean their brush at her, though Yenna realised the marks also resembled stars in the night sky. Catching herself staring, Yenna cleared her throat and nodded.

“I am a priestess of the moon. I hold a rare gift, and receive guidance directly from above in the form of visions.” Suee tucked her gloves into a fold of her robes and leaned forward against the table. “My visions rarely err, and bring with them a clarity of purpose—I am a conduit of the moon’s benevolence upon this world. However, I have never beheld you.”

“That doesn’t seem that alarming, does it?” Yenna arched an eyebrow. “There are countless people in the world—that you don’t see them is no sign that they are outside fate’s good graces or what-have-you, no?”

“It is not a case of my visions holding no sign of you. I have had multiple visions of events occurring around you—minor visions, incidental flashes of insight—yet, I have never seen you. There is always a stand-in—it is as though fate itself wishes to avoid the very sight of you.”

Suee held out her hand to Yenna, gesturing for her to take it. The mage tentatively reached over, sliding her hand into Suee’s like a handshake—the priestess turned her hand, and locked fingers with the mage instead. Palm in palm, Suee looked directly at Yenna and held her hand tight. Before the mage could protest or stammer out a reason to stop holding her surprisingly cool, gentle hand, the priestess spoke.

“Behold a vision—of this moment.”

A wave of nausea hit Yenna, and her vision swam. Her point of view jolted in a way that reminded the mage of using magic to see a distant location, and she looked down on a very unsettling, not-quite-right vision of the inn.

The people in this vision resembled water-soaked paintings, blurry but recognisable yolm forms that clarified when Yenna focused on them. The door to the inn opened, a few of the painted yolm turning to look as a veil of stars walked in… carrying a book, and a dagger. The field of stars was a kesh-shaped silhouette, definitely meant to be the priestess Suee, though she held the book and dagger in arms stretched out to either side.

The book resembled Yenna’s journal—though considerably thicker, jammed with notes and bookmarks, weathered with age—and the dagger was clearly the stiletto the mage had conjured just this morning. The vision moved with all the logic of a dream, and Yenna watched as Suee gently placed both items onto the opposite side of the table they had sat at. Two bowls of soup were placed before Suee—a blink later, and they were empty. The priestess removed her gloves, the silhouette of stars parting to reveal star-flecked skin, and she carefully opened the book. Was it the start of the book, or nearer the end? What was written on those pages, and whose hand recorded it? Endless questions raced through Yenna’s mind, her disembodied vision diving towards the pages–

Yenna’s vision snapped back to her body, and she grunted with pain. With her eyes screwed tightly shut, the mage felt Suee’s hand slide smoothly out of her own. The priestess slid her gloves back on and gave a slight bow of the head.

“You are the story, its pages yet unwritten—for your mere presence, the final form of the tapestry of our existence cannot be divined. For every vision of you that I behold, another substitute is made. I wonder—will we ever discover the reason for it? What mistake you made, that thrust you outside of fate?”

Suee stood up, giving another bow. “I apologise for the discomfort. We shall speak again tomorrow.”

With that, she left. Yenna leaned her head in her hands and gave a quiet groan. She couldn’t expect an oracle such as Suee to give a straight answer, or to explain things clearly in a way that anyone else could understand. Still, a voice within Yenna soared, elated at the sense of mystery. There were threads to be plucked, riddles to be solved—discoveries to be made.