“Atharemine, the Night. Goddess of darkness and dreams. Some say that she's the mother of the world, that from the realm of gods, she created the human realm, and the Abyss underneath it. Others claim that she's the Abyss itself, from where demons and nightmares are born. Regardless, she's well-liked, and the continent is dotted with sanctuaries to her name, places that gather tired people who cannot find sleep anywhere else.

-traveller”

* * *

Astrael

As the carriage was drawn further and further away from the village, their parents' figures shrank gradually. He could barely see them waving now, yet Rina did not look like she was about to stop. She was holding back her tears, that much he could see, as she waved her hand in mechanical motions, eyes fixed in the distance, ignoring the few knights that were making up the rear guard. Perhaps she wasn't even looking at anything now. In any case, she certainly wasn't noticing how one of them was smiling back at her, with his helmet off.

Damn, I expected her to blush and hide. L-look, Astrael, the knight is smiling at me! Something of the sort. But Rina seemed too preoccupied by their departure and their parents to care about that knight.

Well, it's not as if she'll never see them again. They can come visit anytime, and who knows, maybe she'll be allowed to return to the village from time to time.

Astrael turned away to face the inside of the carriage. They had been told that the trip would take a few days, and even though he would not have minded a rough and cramped environment, their transportation was surprisingly luxurious, for what it was. The seats were large and could be used as beds, there were fur covers, cushions and rugs. Windows on each side, and openings at the front and the rear, that could be closed with thick curtains. He noticed a single oil lamp, probably for the reading of religious texts in the evening. Seems like they did their best so that we could have a comfortable journey.

The knights, of course, would be camping under the stars and keeping watch in turns. He had done that a lot, back in his days, but right now he wouldn't trade his place in the comfortable carriage for anything in the world. His delicate and youthful body needed care and tenderness, and neither of these words could be associated with hard rocky ground.

Phiramel was sitting on a cushion, a large and heavy-looking book resting in his knees. Astrael could not see the title from this angle, but the cover was made from dark red leather – it was all he needed to know. The high-priest was reading the scriptures of Xito, a text that should not have have much in terms of originality when compared to the other scriptures of the five other gods. They basically all said the same things, albeit in a different style. Astrael really wasn't in the mood for some good old religious exchange, so he was content with leaving Phiramel to his reading.

The priestess, on the other hand, wasn't reading, but praying. Or at least, she was muttering words that occasionally reached Astrael's ears. Long strands of brown hair flowing from under her hood. He realized only now that she must have been in her twenties at most. Well, in any case, she seemed busy.

Now I'm in a pinch. He was bored, there was nothing to do here. Or perhaps he could ask one of these knights to let him ride their horse? He would have to teach his body how to ride, at some point. Meh. I don't think they'd accept.

He glanced to the side to see Rina now curled up in a ball, still staring at the horizon. Astrael, as the good brother that he was, knew it was best not to talk to her right now. She probably wanted to be left alone, and she'd get back to her usual self later. In the meantime, he grabbed a cover that was laying around and put it on his sister's shoulders.

...I don't know why I did that, he thought, frowning. It's not that cold yet. But it felt proper and stylish.

The priestess giggled, as she must have witnessed the scene. He stared back at her, until she made an awkward smile. “Hm... Apologies,” he said to her, “but I'm afraid I didn't catch your name back then.”

The awkward smile became a kind, genuine one. “It's quite alright, I had not introduced myself. Julia, priestess of-”

“-of Pelirise, perhaps?” he said with a grin. She did not take offence in the joke and even made an amused expression, so that was a good start. “Forgive my poor manners,” he eventually continued. “A pleasure to meet you, sister Julia.”

“Likewise, Astrael. You parents said you were quite the clever child, and I must say, their warnings didn't do you justice. You seem far worse than they make you out to be.”

“Never trust parents. They'll always be biased one way or another.”

Julia raised a brow. “Spoken like a true eight year-old... who takes advantage of his parents' biased judgement, if I may say so.”

“That describes me perfectly,” he retorted, putting his hand on his chest. Her statement had infinitely more truth to it than she could possibly imagine, and he had to suppress a laugh. “You have a way with words, sister Julia.”

“And so do you. You could surely become a flatterer in Callir.”

“Astrael will become a royal advisor, like Euronel.” That high-pitched voice could've only been Rina's. Is she already over it? I see you don't love our parents as much as I thought you did! She was still curled up under the fur cover, but her eyes weren't teary anymore.

Phiramel apparently found it relevant to join in the conversation at this precise moment. “Oh, like Euronel, you say! Now that would be one unusual pair of siblings we would have here.” His speech sounded much less formal now that he wasn't surrounded by a crowd of villagers in awe. The real Phiramel was, as it appeared, much more laid back than one would think at first glance. “Imagine that, Julia. The young mistress, champion of Xito and her brother, royal advisor.”

Hearing the priest calling her young mistress, Rina blushed yet again. As for Julia, she put her index on her chin, as if she was really imagining it. “That'd be a sight,” she concluded in a half-mocking tone.

Astrael shrugged in face of such a forced enthusiasm. “Pity me, then, for I missed the monarchy by several decades. I assume you don't have a king or two laying around in Callir?”

Julia bit her lips and Phiramel laughed heartily, before taking a more serious tone. “You might want to avoid joking about these matters in Callir, the last king only left us with bad memories. That's why he was the last king, by the way.” He motioned for his neck in a cutting gesture.

Ah, that's unneeded advice. I don't intend to antagonize any of the political factions of the city-state.

“Thank you for your kind advice, your excellency.” He still had to act the part of the clueless child. There were things he wasn't supposed to know, things one couldn't find in books. Nevertheless, Callir may not be in need of kings anymore, but surely advisors would still find people to advise, regardless of place and time.

They spent the afternoon chatting about many things and getting acquainted with each other. Rina's shyness quickly went away, and whatever nervousness she had in the morning was now replaced with eagerness and impatience to see and learn about the city and its temple.

Evening came. The sun was about to disappear behind the trees bordering the road when they finally made camp. The knight who had been smiling at Rina earlier taught them how to start a fire, and Julia showed them how to set up the cookware around a campfire. Nothing new to Astrael, obviously, so he just sat back and chew his dried meat while Rina and the priestess were watching the boiling vegetables.

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The smiling knight introduced himself as Leon, son of a noble of Callir. Despite his birth, he appeared to be kind and curious, and he gave another of his charismatic grins which made Rina cover her face instantaneously and spilling her soup everywhere. Truly, that girl was easily impressed by knights, and more generally, boys.

This again... I see the customs found in Horace's books are more deeply anchored than I thought. Alas! Unfortunately for you, dear sister, he thought as he heard Julia chuckling at one of Leon's jokes, it seems you have a rival.

And she made it abundantly clear she was aware of that. Rina was glaring at the priestess, frowning harder than she ever had and pursing her lips in the most grotesque fashion, and then resorted to pouting when she understood that her display of jealousy was reaching neither her beloved knight, nor the enemy monopolizing his attention.

I shall root for you. He nodded to himself, then sighed. Though I do hope it'll pass as you grow older. 

“Who goes there!” echoed a voice in the calm, darkening sky, and Astrael snapped out of his thoughts. Trouble? Probably not, he guessed. One would have to be stupid to antagonize an important religious figure and its guards.

Still, he looked around and spotted the knight who had yelled the warning. Some of the templars gathered around Phiramel and Rina, while Leon and the others stepped forward and went to see what it was all about. Behind the row of bodyguards, Astrael caught glimpses of the other party. A caravan of some sort, albeit a small one, with two or three carriages at best. He could see people inside, and then some on horseback and on feet, though only the riders seemed to be armed.

“And who're you, o knights in shiny armour?” one of the riders asked with a thick accent.

Rina's beloved smiling knight was the one to answer. “I would be Leon Feanir, captain of the bloodsguard,” he said coldly. Astrael could have sworn that the riders stiffened when they heard that. “What's your business?”

“We're just transporting our goods from Callir to the coast,” the foreigner said as he motioned toward the carriages, and the people – they were chained. Leon tilted his head to see behind the man, and grunted in acknowledgement of the truth. “We'd like to pass now, and set up camp before nightfall.”

“Sure enough. Do that far away from here, we don't want any slavers near his excellency.”

“Oh...” the rider leaned forward and squinted his eyes. “I hadn't realized it was his excellency Phiramel hiding behind your colleagues.” He chuckled and gave a sly look to Leon. “What's with these child servants I see there? Ah, not that I care for a churchman's penchants, mind you.”

“Watch your tongue!” Leon bellowed as he griped the handle of his sword. The slavers reached for their weapons too, and some of the knights even showed off a few centimetres of steel. The foreigner wasn't laughing anymore, not even grinning, ready to unsheathe the short sword at his waist. Astrael, still seated, instinctively grabbed a rock that was laying near his hand.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Leon exhaled deeply and scoffed. “...Be on your way, now.”

The rider let out one last snicker and the caravan started to move again, the chains of the slaves jingling as they followed the horses and carriages. Once the caravan had disappeared from their sight, the knights allowed themselves to relax. The group resumed their supper, but the atmosphere was now tense.

Rina, who hadn't said a word since then, came to her brother, and he could guess she had a question in mind. “What will happen to the slaves?”

“They'll be sold,” he stated as a matter of fact, but it didn't look like it was what worried Rina.

“Why didn't Leon save them?” she whispered. Astrael raised a brow, thought for a bit, but there wasn't anything to think about really. That hadn't changed since his time.

“Why should he? It's against the law.”

Rina did not answer and tried her best to hide her confused expression. The conversation died down and they went to bed. As some of the knights were keeping watch, Julia and Phiramel quickly fell asleep, leaving Astrael and Rina on their own. They were lying down side by side and since neither of them were feeling sleepy yet, Astrael decided to light the oil lamp. He rummaged in his belongings until he took out Euronel's book on politics and warfare.

Rina immediately noticed it. “Oh, isn't that Horace's book?”

“He gifted it to us before we left. You were too busy hiding in the house at the time, though.”

“Us?” she wondered while making an expression that showed she believed the book to be Astrael's more than anyone else's.

“Well, why not? You'll have to read it eventually.”

Rina rolled in the covers, until her belly faced down and her chin rested on the cushion. “Warfare, huh.”

“There's much more to it than warfare, and you're... we're somewhat too young for sword wielding and battle plans, aren't we? Diplomacy, little sister, diplomacy. And politics, more generally. It should be your priority.”

She frowned. “Sounds complicated... I think I like warfare better,” she said nonchalantly, though Astrael knew that she did not mean it. She wouldn't learn about fighting and all that until she was older, so for now she would have to practise other skills. There was so much the masters at the temple wouldn't teach her.

How to lie and deceive. How to flatter, to feign ignorance, to intimidate. How to fight cowardly and survive. Be it in the city or on the battlefield, she needs to learn that anyone can become her enemy. He glanced to the side, in case there was a knight near the carriage. He then focused on the noises around them. The guards had made their own camp on a clearing on the other side of the road, and the ones who where patrolling didn't sound like they were in the vicinity. Phiramel and Julia's breathing was slow and steady, so it was safe to assume they were both asleep.

“Here's the first lesson, young mistress,” he whispered in her ear. He couldn't see with the flickering light of the lamp, but he was sure she was blushing. “Trust no one,” he simply said.

It wasn't as if her expression denoted confusion, but he carried on just in case. “Especially when we arrive in Callir. Not the templars, nor the priests. Don't trust the beggars or the slaves either. Just because they look miserable and humble doesn't mean they're nice and sympathetic. Assume everyone is trying to trick you or to take advantage of you. Don't even trust Leon and Phiramel.”

She didn't answer and simply gazed at the oil lamp. Eventually, she sighed. “Not even Leon and Phiramel, you say... they do seem nice, though.”

“Of course they do. Sweet sister, you're about to become one of the most prominent figures in the city, there isn't a single person aware of that fact who wouldn't try to get on your good side. And you can be sure of one thing. All these laughing, smiling people you'll meet, they won't be having as much fun as they'd like you to think. They'll feel frustrated for having to suck up to a child your age, without a doubt.”

“But... even you, you sounded like you enjoyed talking with them.” It seemed she was still fixated on the knight and the high-priest. Understandable, especially regarding Leon, but she had to come up with the right habits sooner rather than later.

“Ah, I sure did. That doesn't mean I trust them. You saw how Phiramel put up that composed, kind facade in the village. Who's to say he wasn't simply acting friendly this afternoon, too?”

She was now making the same nervous expression from this morning. Perhaps he had gone too far. “Still. It's not as if you'll only meet nefarious people. Some of them will display genuine kindness, but until you find reliable allies, be wary.”

I should be attracting enough attention with my child prodigy act, anyway. I would've preferred to lay low for some time, but... I guess it'll serve as a good example for her.

She still looked like she was tormented by something. Perhaps it had to do with the slaves? Yes, she was probably disappointed with Leon. Even though he had just told her that the knight wasn't necessarily the kind man she saw him as. Nevertheless, he asked, so that she could clear her clouded mind and heart.

“What are you fretting about?”

“...I-” She paused and glanced sideways. “...What if one day I become a slave? Will no one try to save me because it's against the law?”

He almost let out a surprised chuckle. Her concerns were far more self-centred than he had thought. But he would rather have a sister with selfish worries, than one with some dangerous abnegation tendencies.

“I guess... if it happens, I'll free you, of course. If I can't buy you back, I'll steal you. If I can't steal you, I'll kill whoever gets in my way,” he eventually said in a nonchalant, merry voice. No need for her to take that too seriously. The mere idea that the hero of Xito would be enslaved was absurd. She belonged to the gods now, or at least to the church. However he couldn't help comparing slaves and heroes again, and that made him feel bitter. But for all intents, his answer had somehow managed to satisfy her.

Seeing that after a while Rina was struggling to keep her eyes open, Astrael was about to put out the lamp, when he decided to check something. “I'll just change your bandage,” he whispered as he unwrapped the piece of cloth around Rina's finger, and froze. He wasn't sure because of the poor light, but Phiramel must have already confirmed it by testing her with the dagger earlier in the day. It should have left a small cut, even a shallow one. Yet there was no wound.

Not only her finger... Now that I think about it, I don't remember her ever hurting herself while playing.

There had never been any wound, anywhere. Or rather, there had never been a lasting wound or a scar.

She has Xito's blessing indeed, he concluded as he blew the lamp and went to sleep. He had been planning to do some reading that night, but perhaps it was for the best. Vacations were over, he needed to be fully rested and on his guard at all times from now on.

The next days went well, without any issue of any sort. Already he could see that Rina was becoming more careful in her wording when she discussed with the priests. Less than half a week after leaving the village, the city Callir could be seen in the horizon – the tall walls made from sand-coloured stone, barely hiding the hill that went almost as high as the fortifications themselves, and finally the keep atop of it. The only other building that could be seen from here was a pyramid of some sorts, that Astrael assumed to be the temple.

They were scheduled to arrive at noon, and it seemed they'd be right on time.