Calix paced in the shadows just beyond the torchlight, his cloak whispering over the frozen ground. His boots crunched through icy puddles. Finally, after weeks of sleet and mud, a vicious cold snap had grabbed the island, freezing everything.

Tullus and Calion watched silently, bundled in cloaks and huddled beside one of the standing torches. Though their faces were hidden, Calix could feel their eyes on him. Like him, they were probably wondering if he would finally work up the nerve to enter, or if he would turn back into the darkness yet again. 

His steps slowed and stopped as he turned to face the tent.

The temple.

The white leather its sides were made of shone like a pearl in the night. The symbols of each god were branded into the leather, repeated over and over, swirling in a dizzying pattern of divinity over each panel. The flag of Metus snapped in a breeze overhead, the Auralian falcon surrounded by more symbols.

Eretanes. Torvan. Hallor. Corlana. There were other symbols. Other gods. Calix couldn't be bothered to remember them. He began pacing again.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Calix looked up. Lightning speared through the low clouds overhead, washing the world white. He blinked away the bright spots and returned his gaze to the temple. The debate resumed, his mind too fast and his feet too slow.

Would they listen to someone who had scorned them as he had? Even if he was extolling them on behalf of others. Cassia, his men, anyone who might run across those foul creatures. Calion's words from a few days ago echoed in his head. If you were to give her half a chance, you might just find her willing to help.

It was a hard idea to reconcile. His life was nothing but proof that the gods did not care to intervene on his behalf. He had made an uneasy peace with that, turning away from the untouchable gods and instead putting his trust in more worldly things. His brother, his mentor, his men. But none of them could help him with this.

They could fight. They would fight. And they would likely die.

It wasn't good enough. The new weapons, the fire, the tactics, the training. Yes, they'd managed to kill one, but that was all they'd done. They'd killed one. That one had cost the lives of two men and the limb and livelihood of another.

Not to mention the nightmares.

The wind tugged at the fur of his collar, stinging his face as he continued to pace through the frozen mud. As he turned, he caught the heave of Tullus' shoulders as the man sighed, his breath frosting into the air. 

It occurred to Calix that he wasn't being stubborn. He was being a coward. 

The thought turned his blood hot and made him act impulsively. He strode to the tent, jerking the stays open before tearing away the flap over the entrance. Snow began to trickle down, sticking to his eyelashes and getting caught in the fur collar of his coat. He turned to the others. "Go back."

Tullus began to protest, but was silenced when Calion put a hand on his shoulder. The older man nodded at Calix before grabbing the younger soldier by the arm and turning him forcibly. Calix shuddered as they disappeared into the night. Then, he turned into the temple.

It was nearly as dim as it had been outside, but warmer, with a soft glow coming from several braziers ringing the wide room. He squinted, trying to see into the gloomy corners. His chest began to tighten, the muscles in his arms and upper back twitching in anticipation, like he was about to fight for his life.

"Finally worked up the nerve, General?"

The soft voice made him flinch, his sword half-drawn before his mind caught up with his body. He whirled back toward the entrance of the tent just to watch as a shadow detached itself from the deeper dark of a corner. Calix eased his sword back into its sheath, but couldn't quite bring himself to release his grip on the hilt. 

He stepped back when the shadow brushed past him, catching a whiff of sweet incense and the rustle of silken robes. 

"I am not a danger to you, General," the shadow said as it made its way to a low table beside one of the braziers. A low chuckle. "Not unless you become a danger to me, that is."

"What does that mean?" Calix asked, curiosity overriding his unease. Why would he become a danger to a priest?

There was the sharp snap of a flint being struck and a candle flickered to life, illuminating the outline of the priest. Long, silver hair was suddenly edged in gold, amethyst silk shimmering in the light. The priest kept their back turned as they lit more candles until the room was filled with a warm glow.

Calix licked his lips as tapestries of the gods was revealed, their cold, distant eyes drilling into him. Displeased with his presence. 

"Just what I said, General. I am not dangerous, as long as you aren't." There was a hint of a smile in the priest's words. 

"Why would I pose a danger to a priest?"

"Why, indeed," the priest mused. "You are merely angry with the gods. You hate them as you think they hate you. But you wouldn't take that anger out on their envoys, would you? That hatred."

Now there was a hint of ridicule. 

Calix narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but was struck silent when the priest turned. 

He was much younger than his silver hair would suggest, his skin smooth and glowing with youth. Long, wavy hair framed a beautiful face made of delicate angles. His dark, angular eyes were crinkled at the corners, his pink, full lips tilted up in a slight smile. 

"You're Sorveti." The words were out before he could stop them.

"No." The priest took a step closer, the light revealing the most important detail. White paint  framed his features in geometric designs, making him even more striking. Calix exhaled slowly, that knot in his chest cinching tighter.

"Corlana," he murmured, taking a step toward the priest.

The man nodded, slipping away from Calix, his every movement like water, flowing and gentle. His robes whispered as he moved, taking up a position by a tapestry of the goddess of fate. He gave an apologetic smile. "You'll forgive my reticence. I've only heard rumors of you, General. You have the air of a great man. But great men are not always good men."

Calix blinked, caught off guard. "I...what?"

The priest smiled, sending a shiver down Calix's spine. He thought the expression was meant to be reassuring, but was too practiced to be natural. 

"You're not here for my story, General. You're here for yours."

"I know my story." Calix cast a leery glance at the tapestry of Eretanes just to his left. "I want... I'm here to..." He eyed the priest's purple robes. "You're a priest of Corlana. Why are you here?"

The priest cocked his head, bemused, hair sliding over his shoulder. "I am here to provide guidance and comfort."

"Corlana is not the goddess of soldiers. Or war. Or death. Or...or anything here."

The priest laughed, candlelight sparking off his white teeth. He turned to the tapestry of Corlana, his expression turning soft and thoughtful. "Not the goddess of anything here," he repeated, his mouth twisting. "Soldiers love Fate more than War. They come to pray before her, beg her for her favor, adore her beauty and bemoan her cruelty." He laughed again. "Not the goddess of anything here. You misunderstand sorely, General."

He pinned the loose sleeve of one arm back with the opposite hand before taking a pinch of something out of a bowl sitting on the table in front of the tapestry.

Slowly, he sprinkled it into the brazier, making the smoke turn pale purple. A sweet scent filled the air and Calix sneezed before a tide of vertigo made him sway. The priest caught Calix as he crumpled slowly to the ground.

Calix stared up at the tent's ceiling, entranced by how the symbols above him danced and whirled around each other. "What...what..." His tongue was too thick.

"It's a light hallucinogen," the priest explained, sitting down next to him. He rested his elbow on a knee and cradled his chin with a hand. "It won't hurt you."

"Wh-Why?" Nerveless fingers reached for the hilt of his sword, but his hands wouldn't listen enough to actually grip it.

The priest tilted his head, apparently unaffected by the smoke ringing him. The white paint on his face seemed to glow in the dim light. "I've watched you pace in the rain and snow for the last two weeks, General. I thought it might be easier to simply offer answers than force you to ask for them."

Calix blinked hard as the priest's face wavered like he was underwater. 

"What you want to know," the priest reached over and gently placed his palm over Calix's eyes, "you may receive the answer. Or she may grant you some deeper desire of your heart. Or she may decline to answer."

Heat from the priest's hand sank beneath Calix's skin and suddenly he was falling.

"You're safe, General. Remember that, if nothing else." The priest's voice faded as light burst behind Calix's closed eyelids.

Stars, purple and blue and silver, glimmered around him, close enough for him to feel their cold fire. Tempted, he stretched a hand out to the nearest one. When no heat warded him away, he gave in to his compulsion and sank his fingers into the white heart of the star.

Colors exploded behind his eyes and a strangled scream caught in his throat as he fell, the ground beneath his feet simply evaporating. Calix flailed his arms, trying to grab anything that would stop this deadly plummet. 

Everything jerked to a halt and Calix collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping for breath as he dug his fingers into the grass and dirt beneath him. He wasn't dead. Or, at least, he didn't think he was. The priest had said he was safe.

The same priest who drugged you? a snide voice asked in the back of his mind.

Sweat dripped down his nose, splashing onto the back of a hand. 

"Darling?" Gentle fingers touched the side of his face. "Are you well?"

At that voice, something fragile inside of him broke. Tears filled his eyes and he allowed himself to flop into the grass, burying his face in the crook of his arm as sobs began to catch in his throat. 

"Calix?" That beloved voice turned worried. "Calix, my love, let me look at you. What's happened?" Her fingers dug into his shoulder, trying to flip him onto his back. "What's wrong?"

He pushed himself up to his feet, his mother squeaking in surprise as he swept her into his chest, burying his face in her jet-black hair. He clung to her, breathing the scent of her lily perfume deep into his lungs. She laughed softly, her hands patting his back. "My sweet boy, what's gotten into you?"

"I've missed you," he choked out. "Please don't leave me again."

A palm suddenly collided with his cheek, making him stumble to the side. The taste of blood was on his tongue as he lifted a hand, looking at his mother in bewilderment. 

Except it was no longer his mother.

Sabina, his father's current wife, sneered down at him from the dais in the main hall of his father's house. Swathed in golden silk, she was dripping with jewels, all treasures he recognized as pieces commissioned by his mother.

Red swarmed his vision and there was a knife in his hand, the tip buried deep in his step-mother's stomach. She grinned up at him with blood-stained teeth. Calix's fingers loosened with the shock of what he'd done. The thing he'd wanted to do for so long as a youth. 

"Everyone will leave you, whelp. That is simply your fate." She laughed, that high, girlish laugh that had haunted his memories for so long. "You were made to be alone."

"No."

Sabina disappeared, the world plunging suddenly into night. Sweat stung his eyes as he turned to the new voice, his entire body trembling.

"You were made for me." 

Cassia stood on a balcony in a soft, white dress, her arms bare and pale in the moonlight. She smiled and extended a hand toward him, the breeze playing with the long, heavy curls of her loose hair. 

Drawn by something beyond his control, he reached out and took her hand, letting her pull him into a long kiss. Jasmine and lemon filled his nose, her dress smooth beneath his palms as he traced the familiar curves of her body. She broke the kiss and rested her head on his chest, shivering as the wind picked up. 

"It's always chilly here," she complained, her voice playful. "It never warms up properly."

Calix had no idea where "here" was. All he could manage was a hum of agreement, his throat still too tight with emotion. 

She tilted her head back, chin resting on his collarbone as she smiled up at him. "Do you love me?"

"Ye--" A sweet smell caught in the back of his throat and he coughed. "Yes."

Cassia hummed, satisfied. She traced the edge of his lips with a finger. "You have something to finish before you are allowed to return to me."

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. He couldn't remember what he was supposed to do. What was so important it kept him away from the only woman he would ever love. Something cold and thick stirred in his stomach, sending a chill up his spine and making gooseflesh explode across his body.

Cassia disappeared from his arms and Calix found himself in a windswept forest.

"You will fail." The whisper resonated in the air around him, making it impossible to determine its origin. 

"Or you won't." This voice was different from the first. Warmer.

The stars drifted down from the sky above him, twirling and twinkling around him. Calix kept his hands firmly down at his sides, trying to peer through the light and trees to find the owners of the two different voices. 

"How do I win?" His voice came out a dull croak. 

A laugh like a summer breeze wrapped through the frozen trees, thawing the world and forcing flowers to bloom despite the frost. As soon as the laugh stopped, they withered and died, bright red and purple petals littering the snow. 

"You believe, warrior-heart." The stars froze in place around him, growing brighter. "You believe in what you need to believe in. Find my daughter and shed your blood for her."

"Daughter?" he repeated. "Who is your daughter?"

Another laugh tripped around the clearing, more flowers blooming and dying as it passed. When it touched the stars, they all flared with light at once, blinding him. Calix threw up an arm to shield his eyes, falling as the ground pitched under his feet.

This time, he landed flat on his back, the wind knocked clean from him. Black symbols etched into white leather spun over his head as he gasped like a beached fish. The priest peered down at him curiously, silver hair turned white by a streak of dawn light filtering into the tent from above.

Eventually, the  knot beneath his lungs released its hold and Calix drew a full breath. Slowly, he sat up and rubbed his hands down his face. Mortified to find his cheeks wet with tears, Calix slowly looked up to find the priest sitting in front of him, legs crossed.

The priest smiled. "When you are ready, you may ask."

Calix stared at him. The...dream or...hallucination whirled through his mind, all over again. Slowly, he looked over at the bowl the priest had taken the incense from. Then, he glared at the priest.

"What in Torvan's bloody hell did you do to me?"