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Her Light - Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2025-01-25 05:04:46 +0000 UTC------------------
The heavy door shut behind Isolde with a soft click, leaving Gideon in the chamber’s dim glow. He exhaled, feeling the weight of their conversation settle into his chest. The soft hum of Altheria’s presence lingered, the warmth of Isolde’s soft touch still faint against his hands.
You really don’t see it, do you?
Her words echoed in his mind, clinging stubbornly like the whispers of the Abyssal Reaper. He turned toward the chamber’s arched exit, his fingers curling briefly before he pushed forward. The attendant outside stood waiting, hands clasped in silent reverence, eyes patient yet expectant.
“The High Sister is ready for you, Templar,” the attendant said with a serene nod, stepping aside to allow him passage.
Gideon gave a short nod in return and followed, his boots echoing against the polished marble floor as they moved through the sanctified corridors. The towering walls bore the golden script of their faith, each line a testament to Altheria’s enduring grace. Yet, for all their divine weight, they could not silence the turmoil in his heart.
How long has it been since I’ve felt this pressure in my chest? Questions…or doubts?
He cast a glance over his shoulder, catching sight of Isolde’s retreating figure as she disappeared around a distant corridor. Hand clasping her elbow behind her back, there was a light sway to her steps that contrasted her earlier frustration and emotional outburst. A strange pang struck him, something unfamiliar—something he wasn’t entirely ready to name.
Has Kaela’s incessant meddling stirred questions within Isolde…or within me?
His gaze drifted ahead, but his thoughts remained behind, lingering on every smile, every glance Isolde had cast his way since their conversation. She had always been a beacon of steadiness in their ranks, his most trusted confidant since assuming his current position. And yet, there was something different now. Something deeper he felt from her.
Was it there all along? Or has it only taken Kaela’s crude humor and sharp observations to bring it to the surface? The teen has certainly made Isolde more bold…which is strange to think about when she’s already so confident and refined. When was the last time I saw her cry?
His steps slowed as they reached the great hearth within the temple’s main hall—a vast pyre, crackling with golden flame, its light licking upward to the open ceiling. Here, their dead found rest, their spirits carried to Altheria’s table—where his parents were laid to rest. The fire flickered and swayed, drawing him closer.
He stood at the edge, staring into the flames, feeling their warmth seep through the cracks in his armor. His reflection danced within the embers—warrior, believer, brother.
Altheria, you asked me to trust, to walk in both light and shadow… But even in your presence, my heart questions. Is this another test? Or am I simply seeing what was always there?
The attendant lingered at his side, hesitant. “Templar Solaryn? Are you well?”
Gideon blinked, the attendant’s soft voice pulling him from his contemplation. A small smile curled at his lips as he ran a hand through his silver-streaked black hair, exhaling slowly. “I am.” He nodded toward the fire. “Drawing strength from Her light, as always.”
The attendant offered a serene nod, stepping back as Gideon’s gaze lifted beyond the flames to the great bell overhead. Suspended high above the temple, its silhouette gleamed in the darkening sky, a beacon of faith. It had rung for him before—during battle, during loss, and now, in this strange new uncertainty.
I don’t know how to feel about Isolde’s heart… If she yearns for me or if it is my own that longs for her. Not yet. Kaela certainly has made a few observations I wasn’t willing to bring out of the shadows and into the light. Perhaps that is how Isolde feels, as well. But… Before I can accept anyone else, I must put to rest my feelings for Anelisse.
He reached back to hold Radiance’s hilt, drawing from its solid weight and the grip that his parents had put faith in. Is this an identity crisis? In any case, Altheria brought this into the light for a reason… The light is uncomfortable, but it challenges me. And I enjoy the challenge… As Isolde can challenge me.
Straightening his shoulders, he turned away from the pyre, his golden eyes burning with renewed determination. “Let’s not keep the High Sister waiting,” he said, his voice steady, his doubts buried beneath layers of faith and duty.
The attendant bowed and led him forward into the grand hall, the bell’s silent presence watching over him like the ever-present eyes of his Sister in the heavens.
Gideon strode into the grand chamber, the vast circular hall bathed in the steady glow of sacred lanterns hanging from ornate pillars. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the soft murmur of whispered prayers. Around the central dais, members of the Radiant Council stood in their designated positions—each representing a key facet of the Dominion’s spiritual and military leadership.
His golden gaze swept the room with practiced ease, noting the familiar faces seated in their respective places.
Sacred Luminary Aelric Kastmar, an elder with silver hair and deep-lined features, represented the ancient wisdom of Altheria’s scholars. His keen eyes flicked to Gideon, his fingers laced before him in contemplation.
Sacred Templar Orwyn Dutchrow, clad in battle-worn plate, exuded a hardened pragmatism. His superior and over the whole Crusader Order. The stern warrior was known for his unwavering stance on security and expansion.
Sacred Sister Vaelis Larisa, the voice of the civilian populace, dressed in pristine white robes embroidered with delicate silver runes. Her gentle yet sharp presence held sway over social matters within the Dominion.
Sacred Priest Altharion Venis, the leader of the Purifiers and an advisor of rhetoric and diplomacy, his deep voice often used to temper military zeal with practicality. The tall, gaunt man stood with regal command, white hair flowing down his back while presenting a calming presence.
Notably absent was Captain-General Ronan Dreaven, who had remained at the northern gates following the Reaper’s incursion, ensuring the defense remained stable and cleanup went smoothly.
At the head of the assembly sat High Sister Serelith Veylora, her silken silver hair cascading over her shoulders, her serene gaze unreadable. Draped in flowing robes of deep crimson and gold, she radiated an aura of divine authority. Yet, she said nothing as Gideon entered, merely observing him with those piercing, ethereal eyes.
Gideon stepped into the center of the chamber, feeling the weight of their expectations. He bowed respectfully, standing tall. “Councilors, I stand ready to give my report.”
Orwyn wasted no time. “Begin, Templar Solaryn. Detail the engagement and the fallout.”
With measured precision, Gideon recounted the events—the Abyssal Reaper’s assault, the titan’s fall, and the divine intervention that guided them through. His tone was steady, unwavering, though the memory of Altheria’s shackles gnawed at the back of his mind, he kept his questions to himself.
The council listened intently, some nodding at the appropriate moments, others jotting down notes. Through it all, Serelith remained silent, her expression one of serene grace, as if she knew every detail…and those he did not recount.
It wasn’t until he mentioned Kaela that the tension in the room shifted.
“An Outworlder,” Aelric mused, his voice laced with scholarly skepticism. “And one marked with the Lantern’s Flame? That is…unprecedented.”
Orwyn’s brow furrowed deeply, his commander leaning to the side and studying him. “We all bear Altheria’s mark as her followers, but the Sacred Lantern? None outside the Radiant Council have ever been chosen in such a way. The invasion came from her…yet she has the mark? Troubling. What proof do we have that she is not a danger to us within the capital?”
Altharion leaned forward, the Purifier’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am less curious about danger with the mark on her. However, what of her character, Templar? What do you know of this girl beyond what the mark suggests?”
Gideon’s jaw tightened. He expected this scrutiny but explaining the girl’s…interests and topic points wasn’t one he ever thought would come before their sacred leaders.
“She is not what I would call…devout,” he admitted, a hint of humor flashing through. “Kaela appears to come from a very…divergent culture than ours. She questions much and believes little. But she is courageous, intelligent, and, above all else—she wants to understand her place. She’s scared. She fights fear and doubt. But she is not a threat. At least…not to us.”
Vaelis tilted her head thoughtfully, the civil organizer reflecting a moment. “And you believe this, despite the dangers that come from cultural norms clashing? Of those who have found us through the Shadowlands, few have been able to remain in Her light.”
Gideon’s gaze drifted to their prophetess, considering the wise inquiry. “…I would like nothing more than to vouch for her. Though, I believe there is Altheria’s light within her heart, her culture is…difficult to reconcile with. And, on that topic, if possible, I would ask that she be allowed to listen to these concerns. She’s made it clear she dislikes the idea of being spoken about in the dark.”
The council exchanged glances, murmurs rising, but High Sister Serelith raised a hand, silencing them effortlessly. A soft smile graced her lips, barely perceptible at this distance.
“A splendid request, Templar. If she is to walk among us and trust in Altheria, she should be granted that respect,” she said, her voice a gentle yet undeniable force. “Let us hear from the girl herself.”
With a wave of her hand, the attendant stationed by the great doors moved to retrieve Kaela from the front. A few minutes passed. Gideon remained still, though inwardly, he found himself wondering if this was the right call.
What if Kaela says something…really crude? Her sarcasm could rub some the wrong way, given the gravity of what it is we are discussing. There are many risks in taking outsiders in with open arms, much less how she came to us. This could be a test from Altheria to accept…or deny her, which means she’d need to return to the Shadowlands.
He glanced toward Isolde as the door cracked open to reveal the woman, holding Kaela’s hand. His frown deepened upon seeing the teen’s face drained of color, stiff posture, and looking like a soldier going to combat for the first time.
Dressed in the borrowed gown over her strange, ripped garments, she hesitated at the threshold, her fingers clutching the fabric nervously. The bold fire she usually carried in her face seemed to dim under the weight of the council’s collective gaze. Her shoulders tensed as her eyes darted across the room, avoiding the inquisitive stares.
“Kaela,” Isolde gently whispered, squeezing her hand, “I can’t come with you. I’m sorry.”
“Mhm…”
She didn’t let go.
I didn’t think she was this timid beneath all that inquisitive energy.
In the following awkward silence, Gideon stepped forward with a compassionate pang striking his heart and offered his hand without hesitation. “Where did that fire of yours go, Kaela?” he asked soft enough not to carry, his tone carrying a warmth that he hoped would ground her.
Kaela stared at his outstretched hand, then up at his face. Slowly, she exhaled and let go of Isolde’s to take it, gripping it tighter than necessary. “Still here,” she muttered, forcing a smirk that didn’t fool him. “Just…catching my breath after seeing that crazy fire. The bell…is bigger than I thought it was.”
“Sure,” he chuckled, guiding her forward into the chamber’s center. “Stand tall. You’ve faced worse today. Right?”
Kaela swallowed, standing straighter, her chin lifting slightly despite the intimidation radiating from the council. She avoided the others, glancing briefly at Serelith, and for a moment, something unreadable passed through her hazel eyes.
“Pretty…”
Gideon watched her carefully, standing beside her in silent support.
The High Sister’s voice filled the chamber. “Welcome, Kaela. You are among those who seek to understand the light. I’d ask you to speak freely, but upon seeing you I’ve already made my decision. Can we talk in private?”
Gideon’s grip momentarily tightened at that and every other counselor gave one another thoughtful glances; everyone had the same thought.
What did Altheria tell her?
Kaela’s lips parted, uncertainty flickering in not just her gaze. But then, she took a deep breath and nodded. “I… Umm. I guess. I don’t think I really have a choice, but yeah.”
“Of course you have a choice, Kaela,” Serelith returned, smoothly rising to her feet. “Choice is a founding principle of Altheria. Agency is of the highest order. Although, with agency comes consequences, both positive and negative. So, I will ask again… Will you join me?”
“I…” Gideon blinked, a flicker of surprise stirring within him as Kaela’s grip loosened. Without hesitation, she released his hand and took a tentative step forward. “Yes.”
He watched her closely, noting the subtle tremor in her fingers and the way her shoulders squared ever so slightly. Even in uncertainty…she found her footing after that one, simple interaction?
A glint of something—resolve, perhaps—passed through her hazel eyes as she looked toward the High Sister. Despite the weight of the council’s gazes, Kaela took another step, then another, until she reached the foot of the dais. Hesitation clung to her, but there was no mistaking the newfound trust she placed in the serene figure awaiting her.
She…trusts High Sister Serelith already?
The Prophetess, ever poised, extended her hand in quiet invitation, her silver hair catching the soft glow of the lanterns overhead. Kaela swallowed hard but accepted it, her fingers brushing lightly against the woman’s palm. Gideon noticed the way the tension in the girl’s shoulders eased, if only slightly, as Serelith’s touch enveloped hers.
With a gentle tug, the High Sister guided Kaela up the marble steps toward the inner sanctum, her crimson and gold robe flowing in silent harmony with the teen’s modest dress. No words were spoken, none were needed after the Prophetess’ declaration.
Gideon remained rooted in place, watching them disappear beyond the grand archway leading to the private chambers. The heavy doors whispered shut behind them, sealing away whatever conversation awaited within.
Now…we’re the ones in the dark. Huh. How the tables have turned.
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