The Sharpest Blade

5th Erastus, 4714

The raucous clangor greeted the aasimar's ears well before her eyes caught first glimpse of the source.  It was easy enough to guess. . .  King Thaddeus had been spending hours each day upon the training grounds and from the sounds of it, he had yet to let up.  Metal screeched against metal, grunts of exertion and groans of pain from the knights who were bearing the brunt of their king's need to let off steam, led Wynnsaren to the outer fence surrounding the grounds.

A pair of guards trailed a distance behind her without thought of subtlety, but she had come to accept such suspicion.  In their eyes, she had earned it unquestionably.

Wynn turned to them, offering a small smile and a salute before floating up to sit lightly upon the wooden fence.  She smoothed out the skirts of her black chemise dress she'd worn out of respect for their fallen queen during this period of morning, but atop that she donned a hard corset of brown leather and brocade.  Bronze clasps ran up the front, while an asymmetrical leather strap, secured by a bronze buckle, ran from right breast over her left shoulder.  As was often the case, her manner of dress belied her mood and now the Clock was running down.  Wynnsaren was preparing herself -- her heart, for war.

For now, without immediate foe to engage, the aasimar swept her long, loose locks back over her shoulder and settled in to watch the show.  To study her king.  The Lady Sarala had expressed her concerns for his emotional well-being after the dark events of the past days and rightly so.  Few men could bear up against such despair, and while she had every confidence that Thaddeus was one of these men, the oracle sought to make herself available as a friend if the need arose and physical exertion proved too feeble a balm for the regent's soul.

"What do you think?" Sir Roderic asked his companion. The oracle wasn't the only observer of the spectacle in the training yard. The exercises were gaining a small crowd of soldiers and others. All eager to see the king work. "10 gold against?"

"Done," replied Sir Saravan perhaps a little too eager at what he saw as easy money. "King Thaddeus never loses."

"Something is different though... He's fighting with more abandon... He's striking a lot harder, but leaving himself a bit more open then he should. His head isn't in this."

"But his heart is," Saravan countered. "That man has a fire in him... He won't yield, mark my word on that."

Roderic was forced to concede that point. Things had been tense around the castle lately. What should have been joyous celebration of the war ending, turned into a cloud of blood and death.

The Queen was dead. The announcement had been made last night. Nobody knew all the details of what had happened, but the king was a changed man. He had withdrawn from view, not entirely unexpected for a man who lost his wife after a few short months, but when he was seen, it was here.

At first the knights were pleased to see their king rejoining them for training. It had been some time since he had participated. It seemed the soldiers and knights didn't offer the challenge he had hoped for, and felt their training better left to those who they didn't fear to injure.

By now, they weren't so happy to see him. Decked out in full magical armor and shield and that glorious new sword of his, he was a madman on the field.

"He should lose," came a new voice behind them. The knights turned around to see their general, Sir Tambor. The king was generally jovial amongst his fighting men, and open to good natured teasing. Sir Tambor was one of the few who had long earned the right to openly criticize his former student.

"His balance is off. He's neglecting his shield and focusing on strikes. Watch and learn..." he didn't need to remind them that they would undoubtedly face him soon. What had started as simple training exercises, had become a full powered duel and it was highly likely that there would be healing needed after this fight. Fortunately, like attracts like and the Paladin king's knighthood wasn't short on fellow paladins. Anything short of killing the king would be healed by someone fairly quickly. Noticing that the former ambassador had joined the viewers, even that he didn't suspect would be an issue.

He nodded a greeting toward Wynnsaren. Her reputation amongst the citizens and even some of the council had become tarnished of late. However Thaddeus still trusted her and Tambor had been the one who taught Thaddeus how to look into the hearts and intentions of others. He still knew the oracle as an ally. He turned his attention back toward his former student and current king.

"He's trying to match strength with Kaleb... that isn't... wise."

Sir Kaleb Ironwater was two inches taller and twenty pounds heavier then the king and strength was his preferred way of fighting. Strength and his great axe. This knight usually stayed near his community of Tatselford, but with the recent war, nothing was usual. Once the armies had returned to their own kingdom, many of the soldiers were scattered to return to their homes, many taking different routes. The knights here had either returned through various magical means or had stayed behind to protect Akiros from any further treachery. Kaleb had come to Akiros with the expectation of a party. He was sorely disappointed.

Thaddeus gasped in surprise as Sir Kaleb's mighty axe hooked his shield and yanked him clean off his feet. He hit the ground hard, but rolled to the left just as Kaleb's axe came down narrowly missing him. He scowled as he regained his stance and nearly fell again as the shock of the mighty blows ran from his shield all the way to his shoulder, numbing his whole arm.

This was what he wanted, he reminded himself. The Knights had gone easy yesterday... he made them regret that. With a cry he sprang forward and swatted the axe out wide with his temporary lion shield. An interesting weapon, but he looked forward to having his own back soon.

Sir Kaleb appeared to expect the maneuver and spun toward the parry. A screech of metal on metal said that the king scored a hit, but it hadn't been serious.

Kaleb liked the king. A paladin himself, he found most of their conversations resulted into a debate between Saranrae and his own patron, Earastil. Still, it was a rare king who allowed lesser warriors on his staff to debate theology with them. It hurt him to see the king this way. As a follower of the god of family and community he understood better then most what the king lost. The burly man had been a ranger in his earlier life too... so he understood the cathartic use of hitting something too...

He feinted hard to the right and parried the fancy new sword out of line. It must be highly magical though because the king recovered quickly and chopped hard for the knights legs. A hop back may have saved him a permanent limp.

Thaddeus spun the blade in his hand with practiced ease. Since heading to the Stolen Lands years ago, he had gone through many swords. None had really achieved his goal. One of Tambor's first lessons was that he had to make the sword a part of him... He upgraded so often he hadn't really achieved that level of symbiosis. Briar however felt different. This felt like he was born to hold it. Which only tore at his emotions even more.

Distracted he once again felt his arm yank hard as the blade of the great axe hooked his shield and pulled it low. Then in a surprising move, the whole weapon reversed hard into his face. He staggered back even as he felt his nose crumple and his eyes fill with tears.


"C'mon then..." the larger man goaded his king on. "I'm still in front of ya..."

Thaddeus assumed a defensive position and felt the probes of the ax as he tried desperately to clear his eyes. The pain was high, but he was used to pain. With a growl he turned his fury on the knight from Tatselford.

"Oh no..." Roderic muttered from the sidelines. By now the king had the upper hand and regardless of superior strength, reach, and height, Sir Kaleb was in full defense.

"Called it," Saravan stated with a smirk. "We can call it even if you take my next turn..."

"No deal." Roderic said with a chuckle. That wasn't something he'd have volunteered for triple the gold.


Despite the banter they were on the edge of their seat as their comrade was soon to lose.

Thaddeus struck hard and often, the resulting clanging was deafening, but then it happened. Steel gave way to flesh and Kaleb dropped to one knee. Axe on the ground, he raised his hand admitting defeat. His eyes went wide as Thaddeus nearly finished his combo and Briar was a mere inch or so from his throat.

Thaddeus gasped with the exertion the battle had taken on him. He grimaced as he realized how close he'd come to finishing his opponent, his knight, his friend. He sheathed Briar and held out a gauntleted hand.

"Well fought, your majesty," Kaleb admitted as he gratefully accepted help to his feet. The blood leaking through his armor sealed immediately as he felt a familiar burst of healing energy. Sarenrae's healing felt different then Erastil's but they both did the trick and he certainly wasn't prideful enough to refuse.

"Yourself as well... though you may want to tone down the goading and press your advantage next time. You could have had me there a few times."

"Perhaps... perhaps not... You left fewer openings when blind."

Thaddeus looked at him curiously. It was true, he had focused more on his defense and turtled up when at the disadvantage... something to keep in mind.

"Go, get that armor looked at."

He stretched his arms out wide. The healing had fixed his nose, but he was still sore and he had a knot in his shoulder that was annoying him. He looked toward the other knights to chose his next opponent. Perhaps two at once...

Before he could decide he notice the oracle watching intently. He wondered how long she'd been there. That last fight had wandered around the field a bit, but most of it would have been within her field of vision... He called over for Thomas and stripped off his armor and handed over his shield. Briar however stayed strapped to his side at all times now.

The knights were pleased that there was to be break in the endless beatings. It was for the best, they healed faster then their gear would and the last day had been hard on their armor.

"Good afternoon, Wynnsaren," He said as he approached the fence still breathing hard. His tone held neither the familiar warmth she was used to, nor a particular coolness. If anything his tone seemed numb or distracted. "I didn't expect to see you today... is all well?"

As King Thaddeus approached, Wynn hopped down from the fence and swept into a graceful curtsy as she fought to keep the heartache from staining her features. Pity was not was not something the paladin would respond to well. . .

"Your Grace," she rose to face the imposing presence before her. "No, the sky is not falling. Not yet. I merely heard what sounded like all the bells in the great cathedral clattering down from their perch, so I came to see what the ruckus was about. You can imagine my relief when I found that you were merely taking exercise with your knights! However, I shall admit that I am a bit confused."

The aasimar cocked her head to the side and chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip for the briefest moment before pressing him. "My eyesight is rather poor, as you know. . . Who was it that you were facing out there?" She asked figuratively with raised brow. "I heard the other spectators saying that you were sparring a Sir Kaleb but Your Majesty, from where I was sitting, it seemed to me that whomever it was that you were seeing on the other end of Briar, it was certainly not Sir Kaleb."

She heard one of her shadow-guards snort ungraciously behind her. No doubt the cumbrous wheels of his mind churning out a series of primitive blind-jokes to share later with his similarly thick compatriots. Wynn merely clasped her hands behind her back and boldly met the king's detached gaze.

Thaddeus glared at the guard and watched him snap to attention. With a snap of the king's head, they backed off with just a hint of reluctance. Sometimes being a servant was difficult. On one it wasn't wise to leave the king with someone who had already attacked him once, yet on the other... they had just witnessed what he did to the knights, and they themselves were not in a knight's class. With a modicum of dignity they chose to give him some privacy, but to be within shouting range... that should be acceptable to everyone. All except Sir Paido, but pleasing him wasn't particularly likely. He took the king's protection very... very seriously.

Thaddeus wiped the sweat from his brow and noticed it still furled. He shook his head and tried to release some of that battle energy.

"It was Sir Kaleb all right, though I'll admit I saw him as an enemy. Enemies and threats are just about all I see lately. Whether he was a troll, Irovetti, or even a tentacle horror... it probably depends on when you started watching."

"Such was my point, King Thaddeus," Wynnsaren explained with concern. "You saw an enemy in place of Sir Kaleb and from my vantage it seemed as though you nearly ended him as you would an enemy. . .

"Perhaps I am mistaken, but I would be willing to wager that his death -- regardless of the fact that you could call him back almost immediately, would only add to the guilt you are currently shouldering."

The aasimar looked up at the perspiring paladin-king with a gentle smile. "Would you be willing to take a stroll with me? Perhaps somewhere with a bit of a breeze?"

He looked back toward the field with reluctance, then thought better of it.

"Hmmm yes, I suppose we could all use a break."

With practiced skill, he swung his legs over the barricade and waved his hand for her to lead the way. He was silent as they started to walk but it didn't take him long to break it.

"You're right... that almost ended badly," he said with major understatement. "I caught myself in time... and took some small amount of pride in my control of the blade... but that wasn't anything to be proud of." He sighed as he considered what would have happened if he seriously injured anyone there. He knew the men would follow him to any hell he picked, but faith like that isn't unbreakable. If he actually killed on of his own... that trust would break.

"I need to be better... We all need to be better...

"Three months."

The oracle halted in her tracks and turned to face the king. "Stop this, please," she implored with uncharacteristic sharpness. "This is not about skill with a blade. If that was all the gods needed of you than they would have sent you a weapon master. Zaistrun would have gotten an archmage, Sarala, a master assassin and Sir Paido a. . . well, I do not know what in the hells they would have sent Paido," she sputtered. "Instead you get me, and I am here to see to it that you all -- we all have our heads screwed on straight before this all hits the Blade Barrier if you catch my meaning."

Her eyes shifted behind them and though seeing nothing, she knew the guards were not overly far away. She had no intention of causing a scene. Instead she bowed her head to the king and continued on ahead at a meandering pace.

"Maybe I am wrong and do correct me if I am, but none of this training business has anything to do with preparing for the Dreamer's coming. Not really. You need something tangible to hit, Your Majesty! I understand that. . . . Fate has dealt you blows that you cannot retaliate against and worse even, She does not give a rat's rear end how you feel about it!

"While I understand that there is something cathartic about physical exertion in the aftermath of tragedy, continually abusing your body and the bodies of others will not bring you peace. It will certainly not bring you to a place of acceptance! You need to give yourself a chance to grieve for your losses. Your wife. Your brothers. I know this is not easy," she grimaced, "but you have got to move beyond the rage. And soon."

"Peace," the king scoffed a the notion. With the hourglass running out he didn't see a great deal of peace on his horizon.

"Are you certain you're seeing this from the correct perspective," Thaddeus asked softly. "Are you absolutely certain that you have been sent to aid us? With your new memories... you've been preparing for this longer then we have, isn't it possible that Fate or the gods have sent us to help you? That maybe we are what you need to finish this mission." He shrugged uncertainly.

He drew Briar and stared at it for a moment. "Do you remember when I told you my personal philosophy? There are two types of warriors I've believed. Swords, and Shields. Those designed to charge and those designed to defend.

"I've lived my life thinking I was the Shield of Sarenrae. I was here to protect and defend these people from the threats that came against us. However, it appears that I was wrong.

"The gods... Fate... They don't need a shield. They need a sword. In the span of a week, I've lost..." his voice trailed off. "Feluanil, my familial ties, even Sarala faced her greatest fear without me. There isn't much left for me to defend.

"I can feel... I can feel myself changing. Like a great weaponsmith has taken a shield and is heating and hammering it into a new blade... Each blow, each loss, molding me into what is needed.

"There'll come a tempering soon.... probably in blood, but when it comes, I'll either be the weapon that is needed... or I'll crack from the forging.

"I'm not sure how you can handle being used for so long with such grace... but this," he pointed back toward the way they came. "This, is the closest I have to accepting my lot... trying to become the best weapon I can be.

"It's coming... Nyrissa is also coming... I have to stop them all, and it won't happen with my diplomatic persuasions." He held out the sword and sheathed it again.

"It'll be done with this."

"Yes," Wynnsaren breathed softly as she stared unseeing ahead of them. "And it will be done with this," she lightly tapped her temple, "and this," she placed a hand over her heart.

"Brair is a tool. A wicked tool and a necessary one but it is the one that wields her that the world needs. You cannot discard the other tools you bring to bear in battle. . . We need you to fight with your head and your heart as well and right now your heart is broken and your head is not thinking clearly! Perhaps you will better heed the advice of Sir Tambor on this matter," Wynnsaren suggested, looking up at her king. "Just be prepared to get an earful, for he made it quite clear that he did not like what he was seeing out there today."

Her chest rose and fell, shoulders slumping slightly as she felt the old familiar burden weigh down upon her.

"As you say, the gods are fashioning you into what you must become. While the pain of it may come as a surprise, I hope the knowledge of it does not, for have I not been prophesying this to you from the first? They so shape us all and it is not for the faint of heart, for you will be tempered not only in blood, but in pain. . .in loss.

"I know that through everything, you feel as though you do not have much left to lose, but you are wrong. There is always something more to lose," she whispered, as her words touched upon the personal. "And always something more to defend. Widen your view. You have got to see beyond these losses and realize that there is a bigger picture being woven. One that will be for the good of all. How much suffering are you willing to endure that all of Golarion might continue to exist? How much are you willing to lose?"

Pain welled in Wynnsaren's voice as she spoke to her friend so bluntly and though it hurt her to do so, she knew he needed to hear it just as she needed to hear it all those years ago. There was no time for him to stumble into the same pitfalls she herself had frequented.

"I only ask you the very questions that I have had to ask myself," she explained, longing for him to understand. "The sharpest blade will be one wielded in wisdom and compassion, resolve and self sacrifice, not merely brute force. If you are not willing to give all for this cause, than I fear you have already begun to crack under the hammer and that is not the king that I have come to know."

"Strength, Heart, Steel," the king said softly. When he had cast off the crest of the Brevoyen Medvyeds and designed his own, that was the slogan he had taken. It had summed up what he'd felt was his personal motto. What he needed to accomplish anything. He still believed in it.

"I... I don't know what to do Wynn...." He let out a long breath in frustration. "I've been hearing for too long now, that I was going to be prepared... but I didn't think it would be like this. I thought... that I already was the man I needed to be to face these threats... and I just needed to be honed or better somehow. Learn a new technique... use a new weapon." His brow furrowed as he considered Briar. "Well, I got that part right at least.

"What is it that I'm supposed to be? Wisdom was never really my strong suit. Compassion?? Against the Dreamer? I've been known for compassion, but these days... it seems a weakness the gods are trying to squeeze out of me. Resolve? Self-Sacrifice?" His lips squeezed together in determination.

"I won't break Wynn... I won't. I may be beaten and bending, but I won't break."

"I wish... I knew more about my role in this though. Knew how to prepare. Sacrifice all? I can feel my connections here being snipped one by one... I won't be fighting for kingdom, queen or family, but everyone? It's as if I'm being prepared to leave and not return. Training my body is all I can think to do, both for me and to prepare those in case I do fall in this fight."

The oracle set her jaw with such severity that she thought her teeth might shatter. Was he being purposefully thick? Maybe he was so hopelessly lost in his own head -- his own guilt and emotions, that he couldn't make his way out of the maze. The second scenario was one she could work with. . . Yiska had helped to lead men out of darkened mazes before, and maybe she could do so again here but with the figurative sort.

"You will be fighting for kingdom, queen and family!" Wynnsaren explained, looping her arm through his in support as they continued on in the direction of the cherry orchard. "Certainly there must be more you can do than allowing your knights to dole out the punishment you mistakenly feel you deserve after recent events.

"This Nyrissa, for example," she considered. "A powerful fey creature that has -- through her deeds and dealings, just essentially killed
your queen. Is there something that can be done about that at this time? You must still have contacts within Feluanil's fey realm. Could they be of any help locating her?"

"Contacts," the king repeated thoughtfully. "Not many. She seemed determined to keep the human realm and the Fey realm separate. She had her servants like Ambergretchie... but I haven't seen any since..." His mouth tightened again at the thought of the death.

"I'll admit, between the trip to the moon and my own... withdrawal, I haven't actually looked for them yet.

"They come when needed... and leave when not. They're... very mysterious that way." He could help the sly smirk considering who he was speaking to.

"Nyrissa..." the name had a dark and bitter taste to it. "I was under the impression that our encounter would be based on time... much like the Dreamer. Prepare for her coming and all that... I hadn't really considered hunting her down myself...

"The idea, has appeal...."

The pair walked along in silence for a time, the king lost in his own thoughts and Wynnsaren unwilling to interrupt his ruminations. She hoped they were of the healthy sort. . .

When they reached the cherry orchard, she smiled and shook off gravity's hold to fly up to pick some of the sun-ripened fruit from the top boughs of one of the trees. Cherries ever reminded her of her childhood in Tian Xia; the sheer beauty and majesty of the landscape. Wynn wished she'd visited here in the spring when the trees were filled with their soft, pink blossoms.

With a heavy handful of fruit, she returned to earth -- or at least six inches from it. "I hope you do not think this question indelicate, Your Grace," she broke the silence with gentle voice as she offered some of her bounty to King Thaddeus, "but do you miss her? Personally I mean. Do you miss her presence? You had so little time to get to know each other."

Thaddeus reached for a cherry and stopped as if struck. A most indelicate question indeed... if ever asked between two other people. He finished the move and plopped the cherry in his mouth and tried to weigh his words.

"That... isn't easy to address. In fact, I think that is one of the things that makes my emotions so... conflicted." He sighed unhappily.

"I didn't love her... I could never claim otherwise. She, it turns out, was incapable of loving me... She came and went so often that I can't really say that I miss her. It's only been a few days, and if I hadn't known what happened... I might not have even noticed yet, if that makes any sense.

"Still, I had hopes... I hoped I'd reach her eventually. I hoped we'd connect. Hopes for children, heirs, a connection between the fey realm and my own. These hopes died with her.

"What I have now, is only what I had managed to achieve before... mere stepping stones toward my loftier goals. Undoubtedly my own fault for not trying harder... fighting the betrothal for so long... but that doesn't make it hurt less.

"I guess I don't really miss her... so much as I miss what could have been. At least what I thought could have been. The way this whole drama unfolded only adds salt to the wound."

"You were used," Wynnsaren nodded in solemn empathy, " and it seems. . . so was she."

The aasimar carefully excised the flesh of a cherry from around the pit and tossed the remnants off into the trees. "You know, in hindsight, the thing I find most remarkable about your queen -- and there was much about her to find remarkable," she stressed, "but in particular it was the bravery with which she lived her life. We could not have known the truth. Not until that moment perhaps, but Feluanil was born for this purpose. She lived her life knowing that she was born to be killed so that another might take the life of Nyrissa!"

She stopped in mid chew and closed her eyes, exhaling a sigh. This conversation was suddenly hitting a bit too closely to home.

"I just. . ." Wynn shook her head. "Can you imagine how hard it must have been to stand there at the altar, across from the man that you knew would have to end your life? She might not have been able to love, but most certainly she felt something! Yet her resolve never wavered. . . She knew what had to be done, she knew the cost, and she fulfilled her purpose.

"I find that inspiring to say the least."

The king simply nodded. "I've wondered about that myself. The sword is love, and she had none within her, but that's all that was confirmed.

"There were times I thought she had no emotions at all... but that never seemed to fit. I'd seen frustration and annoyance in our conversations, never full apathy. However, I never saw fear or hatred. Knowing what she knew, that would have been so easy to achieve.

"Even... at the end, she didn't hate me."

Small solace to take in the death of a spouse, she thought sadly. Wynnsaren had similar wishes for the happiness and prosperity of the king's marriage, but clearly that had been doomed from the start. Even if somehow necessary, it was cruel of the fey to allow him to foster those aspirations. Perhaps one day he might remarry and rekindle those hopes in another, but such was hardly a discussion to be had at this time. She was certain that was a topic the king would receive. . .poorly.

"What was it that she said to you -- there at the end, to make you understand?" She asked gently as she helped herself to another cherry. "I cannot fathom any scenario in which you would not have been completely stunned by what needed to be accomplished."

"I've run through that scenario so many times in my head..." he whispered sadly. "I can no longer say for certain what was said, what I implied, what Evindra told me afterwards... or what my mind has embellished over multiple retellings.

"Feluanil did what she always did. She told me what was. No debate, no discussion. Nyrissa was coming. I had the sword. Now was the time to meet my destiny. This is what needed to happen...

"I've questioned her honesty in the past... considering the plans for the future we talked about and the way reality played out, I question it still... She was like trying to read the ocean sometimes... I never really knew what was under the surface.

"Still, I believed her this time. She said this is what I had to do... I didn't want to believe her, but she was so insistent... so certain... She... fulfilled her part bravely, never flinching..." He stopped suddenly and wiped his the gathering tears from his eyes.

"She believed there was no way to win without the sword... and there was no way to power the sword without... that.

"I'm less certain. I find myself furious at the Eldest if this was the only plan they could think up and for using the both of us this way... I'm furious at her for not fighting fate just a little... and I'm furious at myself for caving so easily. I... should have found another way. I should have at least looked!"

His hand was trembling now and he clenched it unconsciously. "I've never changed her mind on any particular point or argument... I knew I wouldn't change this one. I just knew it... That doesn't mean she was right... or that I was in the right."

The oracle was shocked at her king's misgivings. His reluctance to accept the realities of his Fate was frightening when considered in light of what was to come, and it shook her to the core. For the first time, she wondered if this crack in Matsuro Shi's armor could bring about the fall of their world.

"By doubting the necessity of Feluanil's sacrifice, you cast a dark shadow upon her memory," Wynnsaren stated pointedly, as a crease formed between crushing brows. "Have you no faith in your wife to fulfill the purpose she was born for, nor in your goddess to lead you down the path toward the greatest good?

"Forgive me, for I am sure that I am speaking out of turn here, Your Majesty, but you need to know that you will never be absolutely certain. You will never have all the answers, and railing against Fate and the gods and whomever else for not providing you with them, will not aid you in the coming battles! I know this because I have been in your boots! Wallowed there like a useless soul for years when I could have been doing good in the world.

"Do you think I was certain when I led you up to the moon to wake the Dreamer?" Angry, silver tears began lining the rims of her eyes as her purposefully muted voice hollowed to her normal tenor and rose in volume. "I have reason to believe that the deities that give me visions were not the only ones leading me there, but I have faith that they have a plan. You are that plan! You and the rest of them! I was to wake him, yes, as was prophesied, but I needed to wake him at just the right moment in time when you would be ready to face him. Any earlier. . .any later, and this world would be forfeit."

Wynnsaren slammed her lids shut to control her temper and the emotion that was about to come spilling out from them.

"I tell you now that if you cannot find it in yourself to overcome your doubt than you will not be strong enough to stand as the pillar of faith and light that you need to be in that darkest hour."

The king felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He wasn't oblivious to the responsibilities he would have to fulfill, and he would fulfill them. He still had enough faith for that.

"I'm sorry," he said with a frustrated sigh. He had high expectations for himself and knew others did too. Failing their ideals meant failing his own. "My guides... are getting names now. Feluanil, the Eldest... Even Sarenrae... I've devoted myself to following Saranrae's ideals, but even our gods aren't infallible. If every plan a god made miraculously became fact... Paladins wouldn't be needed. I'll fight to the end for her, and I believe hers is the right way... but mixing with the fey is something else.

"The Eldest rule the Fey, but they aren't true gods. Even many of the traditional gods were once mortal.. The Eldest? I'm not as trusting of their plans. Was Feluanil's sacrifice necessary? Was it really the only way to defeat Nyrissa? I don't know... Maybe it was. She's powerful, but she's still a Nymph. Maybe the sword and her love was simply the most ironic way. Maybe the Eldest thought it was the funniest way for her to die... and they really didn't care about the people caught in the middle.

"I still separate the two missions in my mind. The Dreamer and Nyrissa that is... I don't see a common thread outside of me stabbing them both with my sword. Well... 'a' sword anyway. I haven't seen anything that tells me that the Dreamer is especially susceptible to Briar. One was a twisting mysterious fate that brought you to us... the other was powerful Fey making decisions behind the scene."

He sighed again. It was probably good to let this out, but he didn't feel better. He felt bitter and angry and disappointed. Disappointment at causing disappointment was sometimes the worst of all. "Nyrissa will die... Then the Dreamer will die. The destination is still solid in my mind... The road to get there is another story. I have three months to get my head on straight..."

"No, you do not have three months," she replied sadly.

It was clear at this point that the king wasn't even hearing her, but merely hashing out his troubles aloud for his own benefit. Nothing was breaking through the fog of guilt and anger. Not gentle words. Not harsh truth. She was making no progress whatsoever.

"You are not merely a sword, you are a leader and currently you are not leading. There are those counting on your strength right now and right now you are more interested in drinking and fighting and isolating yourself. I am not telling you to get over what has happened, King Thaddeus, I am telling you to get beyond it. You are above this behavior.

"Instead of beating up on your knights, you need to go to the cathedral. Pray. Find your goddess. Center yourself. Talk to Traica and perhaps you will heed her words with more consideration than you have mine, for she has similar concerns regarding this path you have veered off upon."

Thaddeus felt his lips tighten into a grimace. Neither of them were good at hiding how they felt. Even blind he could sense her frustration, but he wasn't entirely sure what to do to make it better.

"I'm sorry if you feel I'm being dismissive Wynn... It's certainly not my intention." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I've always valued your insight, and I always shall... you never to have to worry about speaking out of turn. I know you only want what's best for everyone."

He snorted in ironic amusement at her suggestion. "I did see Traica... The very next morning I went to her and told her everything. She's one of the few in the kingdom who actually know everything now...

"I was quite... confused at how I still had my powers and hoped she had some insight into the matter. She seemed confused as well, thought to be fair I laid quite a shock at her feet... She tested my honesty, and between us we determined that Saranrae... if not 'supported' such actions, at least felt I wasn't to be punished for it.

"No atonement necessary..." This fact still confused Thaddeus. "I have heard of certain atonements require a great deal of time and energy performing various quests... My theory is that Saranrae knows we don't have time for that, and that was even before we found the moon-clock."




"My family and friends find no fault with my actions... the fey insisted on it... even my goddess forgave instantly... It seems the only one intent on holding me to blame, is myself."

"And that in itself should be incredibly telling, do you not think it so?" The aasimar pressed on, undaunted. "By clinging to that guilt, you are putting your own will above that of your family, your friends, and even your goddess who all say that you are not to blame. Your will above Sarenrae's, Your Majesty," she repeated to drive home the point.

"It is this particular subject which Traica spoke to me about during the banquet. She is concerned that while no atonement needed to be made for the Eldests'. . .requirement, that there will need to be atonement made for your current behavior if you do not change course. You have brought the Dawnflower to the far north and held yourself up as a beacon of her ideals to those who have never known of her. That is a very heavy burden to take on, but you have chosen to shoulder it, so you must bear up and do so with grace and perseverance."

He was quiet for a while as he slowly digested her words.

"You're right I suppose... I've been so far trapped in my own head, I'm not sure how to get out..." He sighed again in frustration. He had honestly thought he was improving.

"On another day I'd find it amusing... The first few day... I was so far into despair that I only blamed myself... and chased anyone from my presence. I've gone on two adventures since then... entertained foreign dignitaries.. and now I'm out amongst the people. I thought I was trying to prepare myself and the knights for the challenges ahead... but I realize now, it was just misdirected rage and a form of self-punishment...

"Has it really been that bad? Have I really shirked my duties so far?? I've gone weeks before on the road leaving the throne here empty... I never really thought of it as 'leaving them leaderless... If I hunt down Nyrissa, I'll have to do it again." He frowned in frustration. When he'd first assumed the throne here, he'd been torn on his need to run the kingdom and the need to wander his land (and others). It had taken a long time before he'd been comfortable delegating responsibility to subordinates. Leaving others to keep things going when he couldn't.

"I guess I haven't been thinking of others... I may have lost a wife, but they've lost their queen..."

"It is not about shirking duties, Your Majesty," she attempted to explain further. "You have done what has been required of you, but I think you would agree that there is more to leadership than simply checking off a list, specifically in the areas of behavior and attitude. While you have been present these last days, you have not been here. It is as if that bloody blade of yours was pierced through two hearts that day and not just one."

With a tender sigh, the aasimar lowered her eyes to her hands and sorted through the cherries that remained, tossing to the side one that had been eaten at by some sort of worm.

"As you say, your people have lost their queen, but they are blessed to have a king who is more than capable of showing them the meaning of true strength -- how to endure in the face of tragedy. From the first day I met you I believed that you could be this man for them." Wynn looked up at her king then added, "for us. And I still believe it."