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Fortunately, Tennet doesn’t notice the warrior-priest’s sharper focus but continues along with his tale.

“Given how close we are to the border, it wasn’t as much of a leap for my father to find her as you might think, especially given the quality of our wine.

But she came from a wealthy house, and she’d been taught by tutors trained in the capital city.

To save herself from a life of boredom, she taught me to carry a conversation from the moment I could credibly talk. ”

“How long ago did she die?” I asked quietly. Because this much I knew about the woman.

“Eight years ago,” he says, nodding at the stars.

“She slipped away on a night even brighter than this, her eyes already turned to the adventure that awaited her over the horizon.” He flashes me another glance.

“So, I guess I amend my earlier statement. There is a time to take a wider view. But may it be many long years before you feel you must.”

We stand there staring at the stars another few moments, and I feel pushed to say more, to learn more from Tennet—but also to hold back.

I don’t know this man; I don’t want to know this man.

I have my own path before me—to serve the Protectorate and build my house; a house that can offer paths to any who would follow me to do more with the Divhs.

And now this is my chance, assuming we can vanquish the threat of the Western Realms and return to peace in the Protectorate.

Lofty dreams, all, and none of them possible if I don’t keep my focus. A warrior sees the whole of his opponent and uses all of it—I need to understand more of Tennet, yes. But not the pieces of him that call to my heart, but to my mind.

“Your mother came from the Imperium, lived in Hakkir, and she taught you,” I say instead. “What information do they have about the Protectorate, the way we live, our history? How much does it differ from the way that history is taught here?”

“That last is a very good question, and one that I never thought to ask until these last few days, traveling out toward Trilion, sharing idle chatter with warriors and townsfolk alike. The perceptions we have of our own past are fluid. They change with each generation, gradually shifting as politics and society changes. The information provided in the Imperium about the Protectorate’s past never changes, I suspect.

It’s history from five hundred years ago, great events that secured the glory of the Imperium and its protection.

It’s also caught in time, a perfect fully rendered painting that might as well be depicting mythology, not people, not even Divhs in terms of breathing, living creatures with their own purpose. ”

He smiles a little grimly, shaking his head.

“I never thought of it that way, of course, when my mother taught me the history of a country she wasn’t born in.

I simply accepted her depiction of the past as the truth.

It never occurred to me that it could be anything other than what she said.

But now, I wonder how little I truly know, and how much the frame of my perception was bolted together with the ideas of people who have never lived our experience.

It certainly was never an issue before I took the band.

But once I became linked with Ayne, I realized how small I was, how insignificant, when I should arguably be so much more.

We were meant to be warriors, and we’ve become entertainers. ”

“Not anymore,” I point out. “You took on the creature from the Western Realms as a warrior. And unless I miss my guess, there’s more where that comes from.”

The sound of voices raised in argument pulls us from our conversation, and we turn to see Fortiss and Miriam stomp out onto the overlook, Caleb following several steps behind, as if wanting to stay out of range of their anger.

Fortiss stabs a finger at the councilor.

“Miriam, you’ve already lost this battle. You’re not going to win it here just because we’re outside.”

“I don’t plan on trying to win it anymore, but your plan is still flawed. However at least this flaw I can fix.” She draws herself up tall, smoothing her long gray robes. “I’m coming with you.”

“No.” Fortiss rejects that idea flat. “You’re not a warrior; you’re not banded to a Divh. You have no business traveling with us.”

“I have every business,” she retorts. “If this were a normal traveling party to the border, you would take a councilor to show that the ways of the Protectorate are being honored. It’s not an ordinary traveling party, but the need still remains.

You think the lord of the Eighth House will respond favorably to four people he’s never met and the lord protector who has but recently ascended to the role, nephew of the lord protector who massacred warrior and Divh alike?

I have met these people, Fortiss. Beyond that, I was born in the Eighth House.

They know me. Arguably, they trust me. Certainly more than they trust you.

They don’t know you or the rest of your party whom they have not met.

More so than that, here you are trying to guide your Divhs across the distant planes, from your home to a space that your Divhs may not have traveled to.

Certainly not anytime recently. How can you do that when you have never seen the great Meridian mountains, when you have never watched the sunrise over the granite and red-stone ramparts of the Eighth House?

If you connect to me in the manner I know you now have the ability to do, Fortiss, I can give you those visions, I can help you see what I see.

Failing that, I can at least recognize it when we get there. You have to take me.”

“There’s no possible way?—”

“Lord Protector Fortiss, the decision is yours, but I will say that councilor Miriam’s advice is well made, her position a sound one.

” Nazar’s quiet words draw all our attention, but the old priest isn’t looking at us.

He’s risen to his feet, and now he’s looking up to the stars.

“But unfortunately, we can no longer debate the issue, only decide. It’s time. ”