The rumors had already begun spreading of the arrival of the Priestess of Virtue in the Kvernes Bay. A diplomat, people say, despite her history, despite who she was.
It was true.
Rowena of Saint Helm had arrived and already began traveling towards the Dark Forest. Her entourage was sparse, filled mostly with those retired from service years ago. One of the men amongst them was one-eyed. Edrick, a veteran of Dragon’s Crossing, or so he said. He was a mere halberdier who held the line against the advance of the Hawks.
Ballinteer was the first place she saw of Caorran. It was a sleepy border village with not a proper soldier in sight. There was no detour or stay to be had in the village, but in Rowena’s short stay she spotted the worshippers of the village. Clad in clothes unfamiliar to her, they were followers of Aeternum Solus.
One of the few youths in her party, Tellan of Nohyde, spoke up only after they were far enough away from the other group.
“The sun, is it? Sun shines the same for the rest of us. Rains the same, too. The hell do they reckon they’re his chosen for?”
It was not Rowena who proffered a response, but the one-eyed Edrick.
“You ought to know better,” huffed the veteran. “Good Lord Helm only died once and that’s not when you started having faith in the martyrs, faith in virtue.”
Only then did the Priestess of Virtue intervene in her followers’ brewing argument. She lifted her hand to take their attention.
“It was written by Glaedwine that the Gods departed after the Cataclysm. Does that not hold truth to it, even if you are not a man of the Trinity?” The question was rhetorical and she gave no room for Tellan to speak there. “We passed through Fairshore and you never spoke the same of them. You believe one is our enemy, the other not. The future is too uncertain to think like that.”
“And ain’t they the enemy? They’ve wanted a scrap for as long as I can remember, we just stuck it to ‘em, that’s all.” responded Tellan right as her words ended.
A nerve was struck in the old veteran’s mind. His words were more bitter and loud.
“Why don’t you draw your sword and get to slaughtering the men of this village, boy? Do you find them our enemies?”
Tellan looked over. A boy clutched to his mother’s skirt as she hurried him along.
No attempt to disturb the words was made by the First One. She let them linger in the air, opting for stillness a while. Her calm gaze shifted to view those mortals near her and then ones far away. The eyes of those mortals were suspicious.
“They shall keep believing it even if you do as Edrick says. The dead do not change their mind.” said Rowena to finally get the group moving again.
“But- but we killed their Apotheon, didn’t we? Surely that changes things, don’t it?”
“We believe in the Martyrs. What if they have their own?” asked Edrick. He cleared his throat after, letting his anger simmer away.
Rowena flicked the reins of her horse as she squinted towards a temple in the town. “They certainly do. It’s written in their history.” She pursed her lips at that thought, emitting a low hum during her pause. “The lesson is that faith does not make a man your enemy. The man does. These ones are not your enemies.” Her eyes went back to her companions. “A most sorrowful thought is that they may view you the same way, Tellan. An enemy, a cultist, a heathen. Are you to think that would be good cause for them to slay you?” Once again, it was rhetorical. She continued on. “We are all faithful, merely in our own ways. Even if we think some of them are wrong.”
The party moved on from Ballinteer and deeper into Caorran.