-Dai-

Abi's nature was to wander; therefore, Dai's mind and his body both were prone to ​do the same. Dai became restless easily, and if Abi was in no mood to play a game of chess in their shared mind, Dai needed something to occupy his time. He lay on the cot, bicolored eyes staring at the ceiling, and the images from the stained-glass windows from the cathedral drifted into his mind.

An interesting place for your thoughts to go, Abi commented lightly. Dai thought at first the spirit's tone was amused but changed his mind. Abi seemed contemplative and, Dai was taken aback as this feeling reached him, a little worried.

'What is the story behind those panels?' Dai asked.

Perhaps the Son of Eleana may be inclined to give the story, responded Abi. We do not know it, not truly. Not, at least, in a way which would satisfy curiosity such as yours, wielder.

Dai sat up, his long hair falling around his shoulders and down his back, unbound. He quickly found a tie somewhere in his robes and pulled it back, then stood. He started to take his jade guandao, but Abi's Gift was diminished here, and he doubted it would do little good beyond ornamentation. Dai took a few steps out of the room, then doubled back.

Better to have it than not, he thought as he grabbed his crystal staff and then left again.

Dai found Eremiel in the apse of the cathedral. The storm was still raging outside, but inside the Déchu's barrier it was calm. Eremiel looked up when Dai entered the main floor. Dai shifted his feet, now less sure of how to proceed, or even how one greeted a Déchu from a noble house. Eremiel saved him the embarrassment of figuring it out by standing and nodding his head in greeting. Dai followed suit.

"Is anything the matter?" the Déchu asked bluntly, but without hostility.

Dai turned around, looking at the cathedral, then stared at the paneled window. "You had mentioned a story," he said, "about those panels. About mine and my friends' families."
Whatever Eremiel was prepared for Dai to ask, it clearly was not this. He regarded Dai with a steady gaze that seemed to grow more uncertain by the moment. Then he cleared his throat.

"Dai Lang? That was the name you gave me?" Dai nodded, and Eremiel sighed. "And your friends, Élysées and Chevalière?

Again Dai nodded. "Yes. Our families have been close since before the Founding. But we know very little beyond what is taught at the Academy. I would love to understand a Déchu's," he faltered when Eremiel scowled, and corrected himself, "a Guardian's perspective."

Eremiel looked at Dai, then up at the panels, and moved closer towards them. Dai followed his gaze to the right-side panel. The stained glass depicted a regal woman dressed in traditional clothing from Dai's family, in bright colors of purple, green, and scarlet. She carried a rather short staff shaped like a jian, a straight, double-edged sword which was colored in a lighter purple.

"Dai Lang. What is your relation to Jia Lang?" Eremiel asked him.

"My great-grandmother's sister," Dai acknowledged. "I am not in her most direct line. Is that her?" Dai moved closer.

"Lady Poisonfeather," Eremiel explained with a nod. "The Royal Assassin. She killed a great many of my kinsmen during her lifetime. She was best known for the assassination of the Regency."

Dai had heard that term before. "Regency? The Regents of Elam?"

"Yes. The seven Patriarchs or Matriarchs of the Holy Cities of Elam. We do not consider ourselves monarchs, we are merely regents holding the throne until Elam's Host returns." Their attention returned to the panel. "Jia Lang's many names are well known among the Guardians. She was a fierce and unmerciful fighter. No doubt hailed as a hero in your city now."

"Only so far as her line remains as nobility in Lutèce," Dai said. "Her actions are accepted merely as a response to war. Neither praised nor condemned."

Eremiel gave Dai a pitying look, almost as if the man doubted what he had said. He shrugged.
Dai could not tear his eyes away from the beautiful and deadly image of his great-aunt. "I did not know her," he whispered. "She died long before my father was born, before the Founding. Why do you have a window dedicated to her?"

"To remind us," Eremiel whispered, "of what the sorcerers did, and what they are capable of doing again. It was not my decision to place them. I wanted to display stories of Eleana. But there she stands, alongside the other two."

Dai finally tore his bicolored eyes from Jia Lang's depiction. Hers was the brightest colored of the three. Opposite her, on the left side panel, was the image of a woman in ancient silver armor, carrying a whitish-gold sword high above her head.

Eremiel continued as he saw Dai's gaze shift, "Chevalière. Marguerite Chevalière, the most ruthless of the Lutetian Battlemages before your city was torn from our world. She led armies against our legions and nearly always claimed victory on the battlefield. She was cunning and knew how we would respond, though we could never say the same for her. She was said to be frightening. And Élysées," the Déchu sighed, turning to the larger, center panel. "Kason Élysées also led armies. But of a different sort."

"My grandfather was Master Healer of Lutèce," defended Casimir from behind them. Dai had not felt him approach. He and Eremiel turned to see Casimir glowering at the Déchu. "If not for him, hundreds more might have died in the Schism."

Dai was prepared for Eremiel to rage, but instead he recognized the same look of pity on the Déchu's expression from a moment earlier.

"So you say," Eremiel said.

Dai turned to stare at the center panel. Darker colors of blue and black were heavily used. A tall man, imposing in his stature, wore a black robe like what the Parisii robes looked like now. Shadows surrounded him, and the ominous blue staff he carried in his hand. Dai could almost make out shapes in the shadows. His skin began to prickle as he stared, until a sharp nudge from Abi turned his attention away from it. Eremiel cleared his throat and turned his back on the three panels.

"If you are so ignorant of your own family's history, I do not want to be the one to give that lesson," Eremiel said.

"Please," Dai insisted. "None of us were alive during that time. Let us leave the past buried."

A small, sardonic smile twitched at Eremiel's lips. "Buried," he mused. "Interesting choice of word. But you are the one who wished to know our perspective."

"I do," Dai agreed. "And I would hear more if you would tell it."

Eremiel regarded him, then Casimir. "Another time perhaps. It is not a piece of history I enjoy reciting."

"Very well," Dai acquiesced, not wanting to press Eremiel.

"Are either of you hungry? Batel says that your friend is still in a deep sleep."

Dai was grateful for the tactful subject change and smiled. "Thank you. I'm sure I can speak for Cas too when I say I am famished."

***

Dai and Casimir had walked back to their rooms in silence, using the last light of the setting sun as guidance. Dai sensed his friend was sulking but did not know what to say to him. Casimir had always been immensely, sometimes embarrassingly, proud of his lineage, more so than Dai. Perhaps Dai did not fully understand; he was not in the most direct line from the founder of his house. Dai did not mind pulling strings if it benefited him, but he was not prone to abusing his privilege the way Casimir might.

"Whatever he said was wrong," Casimir blurted. "I don't care what he thinks, Kason Élysées was a great Healer."

"He would not speak for the sole purpose of being mean or antagonistic," Dai responded, but clearly this was not the thing to say.

"He's just a Déchu! And he wasn't even alive during the Schism. How would he know? They probably wrote their history to make us all look like insurrectionists and terrorists!"

Dai was contemplative. "Is that not how our history is written?"

"It's the truth!" Casimir pressed. "You know Thérèse's story as well as I do. You know what the Déchu were going to do to her if Lady Chevalière hadn't found her!"

"I know," Dai said quietly. He did not like to think about it. Perhaps Casimir was right, perhaps there was a good and bad side to the war.

Abi's voice stirred inside Dai. It is not good or bad, it only is action and reaction.

"Eremiel does not seem like an evil person," Dai pressed.

Casimir stopped walking and looked at Dai, his silvery eyes hard. "Maybe he isn't evil, but his doctrines-"

"Gave us sanctuary, Cas," Dai interrupted, and he said it with such finality that Casimir stammered to silence. Casimir looked away, mumbled something about getting some sleep, and said good night.

Dai sighed and entered his own small room. He was finally feeling the effects of little sleep and wanted desperately to find some quiet respite. He lay in his cot, listening to the storm outside, and glad of the comfort of Eremiel's protective barrier. When he finally slept, not even half the night had passed before Abi woke him again.

Wielder, Abi called softly in the back of Dai's mind.

Abi's voice was always soothing and resonating, leaving an echo of its voice in Dai's thoughts. Dai wondered, briefly, if all animi spoke in the same way, or if their voices were as diverse as their Élu hosts. Abi seemed amused by this sleep-induced inquiry.

We are, each of us, very different, the anima said, sending waves of pleasant delight through Dai's mind. Animi were able to communicate to their wielders not just with words, but with emotions. Sometimes the emotions of an anima were so overwhelming that the Élu host could not ignore it.

Wielder, Abi pressed.

Dai stirred but did not open his eyes. 'Abi,' he sighed in his thoughts, 'what is it?'

Your Battlemage is coming. She seems to have finally awakened.

The words pulled Dai completely from his blissful sleep in time to hear the sound of bare feet shuffling across the stone and dirt floor.

"Dai?" whispered Tere. "You awake?"

With a sigh that was mostly relief at hearing her voice, and maybe a little regret at missing more sleep, Dai sat up. "Yes, Tere. Of course, I am. Is everything okay?"

"This damned cathedral," hissed Thérèse. "I can't sleep!"

Dai doubted it was the cathedral. The golden magic of the Déchu was comforting, like a warm, heavy blanket. Sanscoeur could not breach the barrier, nor could the storm. They were safe.

"Can't sleep?" Dai asked, a hint of teasing in his voice, "You slept through the day and half the night!"

He heard Tere snort. Dai shifted so Thérèse could sit next to him, which she did. He could not see clearly in the pitch blackness of the late night.

Or is it early? mused Abi, its mind wandering through random thoughts. The passage of time is a construct which amuses and confounds us. It is unnatural to us.

"You're thinking about the sanscoeur," Dai guessed, and felt Thérèse stiffen next to him.

"What was that thing, Dai?" she demanded. "I've never seen anything like it! And I've seen a white sanscoeur. This thing was on a completely different level! It killed two Mage Experts without any apparent effort, and we barely escaped!"

"The Grand Masters willhave answers for us," Dai promised her.

"Two Mage Experts, Dai. And we survived. how?"

Dai folded his fingers together in his lap. The night robes Eremiel had given him and Casimir were simple and plain; they reminded Dai of his old Acolyte robes. "You have to remember they weren't combat Élu. We survived because," Dai paused, trying to decide what to say. "Because we did. There's no other reason."

Thérèse put her face in her hands. "It could have been one of us, Dai. And I did nothing to protect you two."

Dai placed an arm around her shoulders. "We're alive, Tere. It'll be fine. Once we're back in Lutèce-"

"But when will that be? Do they even know we're alive? Where we are? We lost our Communicator; we have no way of contacting them!" She sat up, throwing his arm from her shoulders. Dai looked at her, wishing he was better at this sort of thing.

"We'll find a way, Tere. Grand Master Ione will surely be able to find us. We'll be back home before you realize it."

Thérèse sat down again and leaned back on her uninjured arm. She changed the subject. "That was some spell, wasn't it?" she asked.

Dai could not help but grin. "With a bit more practice it will be spectacular. Maybe, try to aim better?"

Thérèse scoffed, but Dai imagined her freckled face smirking. "Maybe you two should try to dodge better!"

Casimir's exasperated voice answered, "We wouldn't have to dodge if you could aim." A soft white light appeared in the doorway, and it cast its glow in the room. Dai and Thérèse held up their hands at the sudden brightness. Casimir's silvery eyes reflected the light of his quartz staff.

"No one asked you," Tere snickered, sticking out her tongue.

Casimir shook his head and laughed. Thérèse leaned her head on Dai's shoulder as Casimir joined his friends, sitting on Dai's other side.

"I thought I'd ask Eremiel to offer a prayer for Diane and Aneirin," he said cautiously. He added quickly, "Not sure if he would."

Dai had not expected Casimir to say anything of the sort, and he hoped he hid his surprise well. Thérèse, on the other hand, did not.

"What? Why?" Thérèse asked. "They're Déchu, Casimir. They wouldn't do it. Besides, who needs that outdated worship? The Élu have gotten along just fine without Elam's interference."

Dai felt Abi stir in his mind. His anima was a very devout spirit and spoke often of Elam's Will. Sometimes, Abi seemed almost scornful of the Élu's way of life.

She should not speak so, Abi sighed. Dai soothed his anima, wondering if Casimir and Thérèse's animi felt the same.

"Still," Cas said softly. "I was thinking about what you said, Dai. We're the first Parisii Élu to be given sanctuary in a Déchu cathedral in centuries, I'm sure. Besides, it feels right. We can't hold a funeral for either of them, and Aneirin died saving us. I can't just not do anything."

Dai was quiet, but his heart swelled with pride in his best friend. Casimir took a deep breath and stood again. "Well," he said, "I just wanted to ask what you thought."

There was something in Casimir's tone that made Dai think his friend had not come here simply for that. There was something else weighing on Casimir's mind, something weighing on Dai's mind, too. He did not want to worry Tere, however. Dai would make sure he and Casimir had some time to talk tomorrow.

"I think it would be a nice gesture," Dai praised. "Perhaps it will help move us forward." It felt good to think they might be the ones to take that first small step towards, if not peace, at least some semblance of acceptance. Any small step to cross the gap between the Élu and Déchu was right, in Dai's mind.

The two should be one, Abi commented, but offered nothing more.

Thérèse had not voiced her opinion, but when Casimir held out his hand to her, she slapped it enthusiastically. They shared a grin as Cas walked towards the door. "Don't stay up talking all night," he told them. "I want to start finding a way home as soon as light breaks."

Dai shook his head. "You won't be up until noon," he laughed.

Casimir shrugged. "If I can't sleep, I'll be up before sunrise."

As if spurred on by Casimir's hope, the rain outside pounded harder as a new wave of storms rolled over them. Dai looked outside. "This storm is still coming in from the Stream," he observed. "We may not be able to get home until it subsides."

"We'll just have to see," Casimir sighed. With a wave, he ducked out of the low door frame. Dai heard him enter the room next door.

Dai turned to Tere. "You should try to sleep, too," he scolded.

"Alright," she acquiesced. "But I don't see how I will. I can't get that final image out of my mind, Dai. Aneirin sliced up, his soul being drained. That monster, I see it every time I close my eyes, even if I only blink."

Dai nodded. He understood. "I know. It's the same with me."

"We have to get stronger," Thérèse growled. "Stronger so we don't have to be afraid like that."

"You'll never not be afraid of something," Dai responded. "No matter how strong you become. You should make yourself stronger to protect others, not so you won't be afraid."

Tere looked at him. Without Casimir's light, Dai could not see her well. Thérèse stood. "You're right. You're always right. Why do you have to sound so wise all the time?"

With a chuckle, Dai gently moved her toward the door. "Must be this ancient anima of mine. I don't sound half as wise as Abi."

"Elam only knows how dumb my Aru is," Tere said, faking exasperation. Dai saw Tere's silhouette twitch violently and she cursed. "It was a joke, Aru! Bon sang you'd do that to your injured wielder?"

"Good night, Tere,"Dai prodded, shaking his head. Thérèse turned and flicked her wrist in a half-wave as she left his room and walked across the courtyard.

Tomorrow is a new sun, Abi resonated. Get some rest. We fear this has only begun.
|
'What was that sanscoeur, Abi?' pressed Dai.

We do not know, the anima answered. It was not normal. It was artificial.

'Artificial? How can a sanscoeurbe artificial?'​

Abi rumbled like soft thunder.It lulled Dai immediately. Do not dwell on thesequestions. There will be time for answers.

'You went there, didn't you? What did you see?' Abi would not answer. 'Lutèce is in danger,' Dai realized.

He did not know where this sudden thought came from, only that he felt it was true. Dai struggled to sit up, but Abi's willpower was stronger.

Sleep now.

'I need to talk to Casimir, Abi.'

Abi pressed Dai down towards sleep. All you can do for Lutèce right now is sleep and reserve your strength.

'I have to get stronger,' Dai sighed.

You will, and we will help you,' assured the spirit.

The last thought in Dai's mind was of Lutèce, and of the impending disaster that he felt, deep in his soul, was about to happen.