-Thérèse-

"Stop hovering over me like I'm going to die any minute!" Thérèse growled when Dai tried checking on her for the fifth or sixth time that day. "I'll be in fighting shape again in no time."

         Morning services were over, and the three young mages were spending their time in the aisles of the inner sanctuary of Laon Cathedral. Thérèse was sitting up and leaning against the wall, tapping her staff irritably on the floor. She was sluggish and irritable underneath the golden barrier, which Dai and Casimir had somehow convinced the Déchu to make impenetrable to her alone. Dai sat down next to her.

         "Still no word from the Grand Master?" Thérèse asked, leaning her head back.

         Dai shook his head, glancing at his jade staff. Thérèse knew he had spent all morning outside the barrier, waiting for some sign. The storm disappeared overnight, so Dai and Casimir both had been trying to spend time outside of the cathedral, hoping their magic could act as a beacon or signal to the Communicators and Sensors in Déchu.

Thérèse looked at Dai. She knew he was keeping something from her, and she hated it. He was worried, more than she would think normal for their current situation. As if he thought something bad had happened in Déchu. She would not ask, however. If he chose not to tell her, well, she guessed he had his reasons.

         "It's been days," she said. "Why haven't they come looking for us by now? Surely they don't think we're dead?"

         Dai shrugged, and Thérèse felt her irritation flare. She squashed it back down. It was Dai. She trusted his judgement. She could be patient, even if she hated it, and for Dai she would wait until he wanted to talk to her. Thérèse learned long ago that Dai was a private person, and kept his own counsel first. She sighed.

         Nearby, Casimir was sitting under a stained-glass window, playing with the colored light filtering through the glass and into the aisle of the cathedral. Eremiel's daughter, Ariel, delighted in the shapes and colors he could make out of the light shining around them. Casimir summoned tiny prisms and will-o-wisps in all sorts of colors, and the toddler chased after them, only for the light to fade just as she caught it.

         "At least Casimir is enjoying himself," scoffed Thérèse. Beside her, Dai chuckled. He knew she was irritated too because of the three of them, she was the only one incapable of accessing her Gift.

         "It is odd, though," Dai commented. "Eremiel had said he and his wife and daughter were the only Déchu here at Laon. I wonder why?"

         "Lucky for us, no doubt," argued Thérèse.

         "Maybe, but still I find it strange. I thought more would appear at some point."

         "Again!" laughed the toddler, and Casimir complied, floating the lights further away and across the floor of the nave. Ariel ran after them, reaching the large labyrinth design in the stones on the cathedral floor. There, she and Casimir, by some unspoken agreement, created a new game. Ariel hopped along the labyrinth as different colored lights popped in and out of view.

         "It's nice, though, isn't it?" Dai asked wistfully. "We really aren't so different. I don't understand why we can't come to some sort of agreement between the Déchu and Élu."

         "You wouldn't get it," Thérèse sighed. She started to say more, but Eremiel appeared.

         "Have you still no word from your Masters?" he asked. When Dai shook his head, Eremiel sighed. His daughter's laughter caught his attention and he turned to look in her direction. A soft, almost pleased smile twitched on his lips. He walked nearer them, and Thérèse saw unchecked awe and curiosity. "Your...Gift is beautiful," he offered reluctantly.

         Casimir looked up, eyebrows raised. "Thank you."

         "Can all sorcerers do this?"

         Thérèse frowned, but Casimir seemed to ignore the insult. Sorcerer was the Déchu term for Élu, born out of misunderstanding and hatred. Then again, Thérèse supposed that Déchu was the same, being the Élu word for Guardians. It meant 'fallen' and the Élu had termed the holy, angelic archers this when the Schism broke out, claiming they had fallen from Elam's light.

         Casimir explained, "No, it's mine alone. No one Élu ever has exactly the same Gift. Some are very similar, and might even look the same on the surface, but there is always something that makes it unique." He raised his clear quartz staff with the prism-shaped tip, "But this is only mine."

         Eremiel's face fell. "I see. It is too bad. Perhaps if all Élu had a Gift like yours, there would be less fear and hostility." He paused, as if trying to consider his next words carefully. "Tell me, are there many of your Élu who have Guardian blood?"

         Thérèse glanced at Dai, who raised an eyebrow. Casimir answered, "I couldn't say. I didn't know Élu could be born to the Déchu. Guardians," he corrected quickly.

         "It's happened," Eremiel said, sounding as if he regretted asking the question. "It's rare, very rare. And places a stain on the parents and entire lineage when it happens."

         "Whenever there's an Élu born in the Old World, we bring them to Déchu," explained Casimir. "I doubt the Guardians would allow us to do that with their own children. Though it does make me curious as to what happens to them."

         "Live their life in a cage, no doubt," Thérèse growled. She was tired of hearing this conversation. Beside her, Dai rubbed his hand over his face. Eremiel shot her a glare, one that she matched with equal ferocity.

         "As antagonistic as your great-grandmother's reputation," he said drily.

         Thérèse huffed. "Shows what you know," she muttered, crossing her arms.

         Eremiel looked at Casimir, then Dai. Dai glanced at Thérèse. She looked away, shrugging. Dai took a breath and said, "Tere wasn't born to the Chevalières. She was born here and taken to Déchu and adopted by the head of the family."

         If Eremiel was shocked to hear this, he did not show it. He responded simply, "I see. So, let me guess. You have a tragic history where my people are concerned."

         "Yes, actually," Thérèse spat. "They thought they might cleanse me of my Gift and make my soul pure. Want to know how they intended to do it? By leaving me out to be devoured by sanscoeur. But see, they didn't anticipate a white showing up, which is dangerous even to your kind. So, they fled, and left me to die alone!"

         The color drained from Eremiel's face. He did not seem to have expected that response. Thérèse felt a slight feeling of triumph. "Is that tragic enough for you?" she demanded.

         Eremiel opened his mouth, but Ariel's laughter cut through the tension. Even Thérèse felt her guard melt momentarily, but she kept her glaring eyes on the Déchu man. She could not take it any longer. She stood up and stalked out of the apse of the cathedral and towards the courtyard.

***

-Dai-

        Dai watched Thérèse go but did not try to follow her. He knew he would only anger her more if he went after her. Instead, he looked up at Eremiel.

         "She was only six summers old when that happened," Dai said quietly.

         "Only six," Eremiel said, and his eyes found Ariel dancing playfully in the apse. "Ariel is barely five."

         "There are records," Dai said, changing the subject, "in Lutèce. It has happened, though I couldn't name anyone I know off the top of my head."

         Eremiel's expression turned puzzled. "What has?"

         "Élu who were born to Guardians," Dai clarified. Eremiel nodded in understanding and indicated for Dai to continue. "In the past, these Élu went to great lengths to hide their lineage when they came to Lutèce. For a multitude of reasons. Pity, perhaps. Even distrust. Élu born to Guardians often had a difficult time reconciling everything they learned as children with what they were."

         "What happens to those who are taken to Lutèce?"

         Casimir spoke up from his game with Ariel to respond. "Most children are not taken to the main island directly anymore. They're dropped off in one of the outer districts to live with others from the Old World. After a year or two they can decide if they want to enter the Academy."

         "These records that Adept Lang mentioned, do they include where the children were born or taken? Their names and family?"

         Dai raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure. I guess it depends on the individual. Thérèse was adopted directly into a noble house, so her records are not public. But even though she was given a new name, she refuses to use it. Why the curiosity?"

         "No reason," Eremiel responded quickly. "Rumors. Guardian children being taken or disappearing because they exhibited abnormal magic."

         Dai tapped his jade staff against his shoulder. He did this often when his mind was working on a puzzle. He sensed Eremiel's desire to drop the subject and obliged, choosing to change the topic to something Dai himself was much more interested in.

His eyes glanced back up to the stained-glass windows depicting Jia Lang, Kason Élysées, and Marguerite Chevalière. Eremiel had managed to elude Dai's questions after his initial inquiry, but Dai was determined to know what Eremiel knew. Dai looked at Casimir, who was fully engrossed once more in entertaining the little Ariel.

         Dai stood up and brushed his robes out. "Eremiel, would you tell me the story of the middle panel now?"

         Eremiel stood still as stone. "You still wish to hear it? I had hoped you would forget."

         Dai offered a gracious smile and a bow of his head. "Unfortunately, my mind forgets very little. A troublesome habit, really. I wish I could find myself even half as forgetful as my friend over there."

         "Hey," Casimir shouted, but grinned all the same.

         "I am genuinely interested in the story," Dai continued.

         "You know their history, don't you?" Eremiel asked. "Why do you want me to tell it to you?"

         "I know our version of it," Dai admitted. "I won't dispute or debate, if you'll tell me your version."

         Eremiel and Dai stared at each other, until finally Eremiel sighed. "Very well," he said reluctantly, and motioned for Dai to walk with him closer to the windows. "Chevalière's history is fairly straightforward. A brutal general on the battlefield. She wielded great long, heavy swords and even in ranged fights could take out handfuls of archers on her own. But she was merely the distraction."

         "Distraction?"

         Eremiel nodded to Jia Lang's glass portrait. "Lady Poisonfeather. She would wait for the hosts to meet Chevalière on the battlefield, then cut her way silently into the heart of our cathedrals. Sometimes, it is said, she would take the shape of a giant bird and fly around the cathedral, releasing her poisonous gas upon everyone, innocents alike. Other times, she may have only one target but leave dozens dead in her wake. No matter how they studied her poison, no antidote was ever created, and her victims died too fast for even our holy Gift of healing."
Now came the story Dai wanted most to hear. "And Kason Élysées?"

         Eremiel visibly shuddered. "Wouldn't you rather hear something more pleasant?"
Dai eyed Eremiel. What was so terrible about Kason's part in the Schism War? Eremiel pointed and Dai followed the Guardian's motion.

         "Look closely. The sun is in the right position. If you see it, perhaps I won't have to say it."

         Dai narrowed his bicolored eyes, straining to see what Eremiel was trying to show him. There was so much black glass on the panel, though. He could make out Kason, dressed in white robes, carrying a blue staff. It was even prism-tipped like Casimir's. It was like looking at an older, more solemn rendition of his best friend. There was so much black on the ground and behind Kason, though.

         "Wait," Dai murmured, squinting harder. He began to make out outlines of gold, and dotting each individual section of gilded black glass was a small solar cross painted in gold as well. Dai's eyes widened and he looked at Eremiel. The Déchu continued to stare at the stained-glass panel with a neutral expression.

         "It was a very dark time, and no Guardian likes to talk about it."

         Dai looked back at the window panel, but something in his stomach and chest made him not very certain he wanted to know more at that point. He glanced back at Casimir, who was not paying them any visible attention.

         "I would still like to know more," Dai said at last, "but perhaps you are right. Perhaps it is best I do not hear the story. I'm going for a walk. See if I can't figure some way to get in touch with my Mage Master."

         Eremiel seemed relieved and bowed his head as Dai turned and left.

***

-Thérèse-

            Outside in the courtyard, Thérèse was engrossed in practicing battle stances. She flowed through the forms with her malachite rose staff; even if she could not summon her Gift and transform her staff, she could still practice. She had been swinging at air and dodging imaginary blows when she stilled, suddenly aware that she was not alone in the courtyard. The faintest sound of tinkling glass, light and carefree, wafted on the air, accompanied by a soft scraping sound every few moments.

           "You do not need to cease on my account," came the voice of the woman, Batel. She had a deep, rich voice. "How are your wounds?"

           Thérèse looked all around until she saw the Déchu, sitting with her legs tucked underneath her, bent over something on the ground. Thérèse watched as Batel turned to carefully sift through a bowl filled with something. After a moment, Batel picked up a small, square piece of colored glass. Apparently satisfied, she turned back to the object which held her attention. Another agonizingly slow moment passed as Batel placed the piece of glass onto her workspace. Then she reached for a scraping tool and gently pressed a sandy substance onto the surface and wiped it away again.

           "We all have our ways of finding peace," Batel said. Her accent was much thicker than Eremiel's but within the dome of holy magic, there was no worry of linguistic differences. "If your method of doing so involves swinging your weapon, by all means continue. I will not bother you."

           Thérèse shuffled her feet, feeling intrusive. It was not a feeling she encountered often, and she did not particularly like it.

           "Sorry," she muttered. "I thought no one was here."

           "If it makes you feel better, you may pretend I am not." She found another piece of glass and repeated the motions she had gone through when Thérèse first saw her. Slowly, Thérèse approached, curiosity winning her over.

           "What are you doing?" she ventured.

           "My Kingdom of Antioch is quite famous for its mosaics," Batel answered without looking up. Her dark brown hair was bound in a neat fashion, away from her face and off her neck, but Thérèse could see it was likely very long and pretty. She twirled one of her own red curls around her finger. Batel continued speaking. "I very much enjoy making them myself. It is an Eastern tradition. The stained-glass windows and panels you see in our cathedral seem to be the more preferred art style in the West. There is little place for mosaics here."

           Finally, Batel looked up, admiring the rose window towering above them. Thérèse followed her gaze."We have stained glass in Lutèce," she offered slowly. "Like the windows there."

           "That is understandable, as Lutèce was once part of Avennio. The windows are beautiful when the light hits them just right," Batel observed. Simultaneously, Batel and Thérèse turned back to the partially finished mosaic. "But this art does not need sunlight to be beautiful, if you make them in the right way."

           As if to prove her point, Batel raised an arm to cast a shadow over part of the mosaic. Where her shadow fell directly, pieces of the glass glowed faintly in blue, green, and even pink. Thérèse gasped. Batel beckoned her to look more closely. Mesmerized, Thérèse obeyed, crouching low, nose wrinkling with the stench of the mortar. Batel cupped her hands over a section of mosaic, so it was nearly black with shadow. Then the pieces glowed more intensely.

           "Is that part of your Gift?" Thérèse asked in awe, sitting up.

           Batel smiled and shook her head. "It is a special paint made from certain minerals. They glow for short periods of time in darkness or under certain light. Nothing more. Of course, the colors are not as varied as the glass itself. But it can still be a beautiful sight in the right conditions."

           Thérèse looked at the half-finished image. "What will it be?"

           "The Arrival of Eleana," Batel said, returning to her bowls of glass pieces. She quoted, "'And Eleana was the third to establish Her House. She called it Avennio, and she tamed the winds and rivers.'"

           "I," Thérèse began, "I'm not familiar with the Elamite Verses. I did not pay attention tot hem." She felt almost ashamed, for some reason, to admit it.

           "Do they not teach them in Lutetia?" It was a simple question. There did not seem to be any judgement in Batel's voice, only pure curiosity.

           "They do," admitted Thérèse. "It's part of the earliest lessons for Lutetian children. They never resonated with me."

           "Many who call themselves Gifted do not resonate with the Verses either, yet the Gift remains part of who they are. Among the Guardians, it is said those who move far from Elam's Will begin to lose their Gift. Some believe that is what is happening now."

           "Now?"

           Batel sighed. "The Guardians are not the power we once were. Individually, yes, our Gifts are still strong, but we are dying. The Regency does not want to acknowledge it. Fewer children are being born into the old bloodlines and of those, many do not show great talent. Some are born only as Watchers." When Thérèse raised an eyebrow, Batel pointed to one of her bright golden eyes. "They are born with only one Eye of Elam. The other is dull as any Ungifted. Usually, Watchers are the result of a Guardian and Ungifted union, but more and more are being born even to pure-blooded descendants. We are dying, but the Regency chooses to ignore this truth."

           Batel said this simply and returned to her work. Thérèse watched her methodical craft. "Is that why there are only three of you here?"

           Batel paused, hand raised over the mosaic. Thérèse saw her eyes go wide, and thought they brimmed with tears. Batel hastily wiped her face and laughed. "Punishment. For transgressions against Eremiel's family and by extension the entire Regency."

           Thérèse wanted to ask, and her question must have been plain on her face. Batel said in a bitter tone, "The Patriarch of Avennio is Eremiel's father. Eremiel is his firstborn."

           Thérèse's mouth opened, but she sensed it was not a topic Batel wanted to discuss in detail. Instead, her gaze went back to the image.

           "In Lutèce, it's said that each of Elam's Host gave the Élu a Gift. We have Seven Schools of Magic, and each is said to come from one of the Host."

           "Oh?" Batel asked, her voice steady again as she placed a tile. "And whose Gift do you possess?"

           Thérèse paused, looking at the image slowly coming to life under Batel's skillful hands. A woman with angelic beauty holding a golden sword, and an eight-rayed sun crown adorned her head.

           "Eleana's," whispered Thérèse.

           "Then perhaps you will find what you are looking for here."

           "I'm not looking," Thérèse protested, but she was interrupted when Casimir came running into the courtyard, shouting her name. She turned around and Batel sat back, watching him with mild curiosity.

           "Thérèse," Casimir gasped through heavy breaths. "Dai finally got a communication from Master Mélissa! We're going home!"

           Thérèse sighed with relief, but as she nodded her head towards Batel, she wondered if Master Mélissa could not have taken just a bit more time. Thérèse followed Casimir back into the cathedral, then out the great doors. Dai was standing just outside where the Déchu's barrier fell, his staff glowing. She heard Mélissa's angry shouting. As Thérèse passed through the barrier, she felt Aru's presence fill her again. She had not been completely without contact from her anima, but it was a good feeling to have Aru back in full force.

           "There you are! Where in the great Everlasting have you been? We've been trying to get you since the storm passed. Each time one of ourS ensors saw you, you disappeared again."

           Thérèse stood next to Dai, who winced. "Our apologies, Master Mélissa," he said. "Thérèse was injured-"

           "Don't need to know." Mélissa's tone indicated she did in fact have an idea of what was going on but did not want to hear it. "Sending a team to rendezvous with you and get you home. You'll be examined when they arrive. Do not move from your current location!"

           "Yes, Master Mélissa,"Dai promised. His staff stopped glowing and he turned around. Thérèse remained close to him, hoping he had forgiven her for storming off.

           Eremiel approached. "So, you're leaving, then," he stated. Dai nodded.

           "We thank you for your hospitality," Dai said. "We would have been truly lost without it."

           "And your Mage Masters? What will they think of you being here?" Thérèse noticed Eremiel's fist clenching over his sun wheel ornament.

           "It's best if you stay inside," Casimir said. "Nothing will happen if you don't look like you're ready to take aim at our rescue party."

           "I wouldn't," Eremiel scoffed, but startled at a sound behind him. He turned to see his bright-eyed toddler running towards him. "Ariel! Go back inside! Where is your mother?"

           Ariel bit her lip. "Ummee is inside," she said, shrinking back. "Is Papa scared?"

           Eremiel scooped her up in his arms. "Papa is not afraid of anything," he said with a smile. Thérèse felt something clench in her chest at the sight.

           "Are our friends leaving?" Ariel asked, pointing at Casimir.

           Sighing, Eremiel nodded. "Yes, they are leaving now."

           Nearby, a pillar of light appeared. The Pont Archange. Thérèse looked between it and the Déchu standing there.

           Dai bowed his head. "Thank you again, Eremiel."

           Casimir stepped forward and held out his hand. "Yes, thank you. Maybe this could be a step in the right direction for us."

           Eremiel stared at Casimir's hand, but when he hesitated to take it, Ariel stretched out her own arm and took hold of two of Casimir's fingers. Eremiel smiled and Casimir gently moved the toddler's hand up and down.

           "I wish I were as confident in that hope as Ariel seems to be," Eremiel laughed. It was the first time Thérèse had heard him laugh. He shifted Ariel to one hip and took Casimir's hand as well. "But if the step is to be taken, I am glad to have done it through you three. May Elam's Wings speed your journey."

           Eremiel seemed about to say more, but he kept silent. Thérèse rubbed her elbow, feeling some of the bandages Batel had dressed for her. She cleared her throat and Eremiel looked at her.

           "Thank Batel for me," she said quickly, then turned and rushed to meet their rescue party at the Bridge Gate. Dai and Casimir were close behind her, Eremiel having already retreated back inside the cathedral as the Pont Archange fully opened.