“His brother wanted revenge.” The Ga’Na continued her story. “He wished to march into the city and kill the lord who had done this. But their grandmother forbad them, she knew that such an attack would only lead to tragedy for their people with little to show. A truth of the Korek was shown that day, that our lives are in the hands of the Terminians. In the hands of those very people who sneer at us from their high walls.

  So, with this knowledge, the Korek did nothing but help Morkad heal. The worst of his wound though were not of flesh. His spirit had been broken, and no ointment or balm could fix him. As he recovered, Morkad became obsessed with revenge, obsessed with showing the Terminians that the Korek were greater than them. He was no longer satisfied with proving equality, you see, but supremacy. He descended deeper into obsession, ignoring his family, until one day…” The Ga’Na stopped, her face contorted in pain at what she had to say next. Celeste, moved closer and wrapped an arm around the old woman, supporting her as much as she could.

  “You do not need to go on.” Celeste whispered to her, a tense sense of ill-ease spreading from head to toe. “Not if it pains you so.”

  “Yes, yes I do child.” The Ga’Na winced, then breathed heavily calming herself. “One day Morkad’s grandmother found him in his tent, sacrificing a dozen hounds to the Chaos.” The Ga’Na held Celeste’s hand tight, almost to the point of pain. Celeste didn’t blame her. “They banished him, Morkad’s grandmother and brother. They loved Morkad deeply, but the old laws were strict and the Chaos could not return to the Korek. The covenant could not be broken.

  Many years passed, and though the pain faded in the band;s heart, the loss of Morkad never fully healed. It was over a decade later though, as his grandmother returned to her tent to sleep, that she found a hooded figure standing by her bed. When the figure removed their hood, she could hardly recognize Morkad. Pasty grey skin and sunken eyes replaced the kind face she loved so dearly.

   Morkad told his grandmother that he had come with great tidings, that he had grown more powerful than any Korek in history. He explained that he had found allies, powerful allies, that could tear the kingdom asunder. His grandmother was disgusted, but could not bring herself to call for the Ga’Se to slay his brother for returning, regardless of what the old laws had said. She told her beloved grandchild to leave, to never return. Morkad pleaded with his grandmother, telling her that something had happened that night, that the world would be better for it, and that soon would be the time to rise. Three times that night the grandmother spurned her grandchild, and the third time, she told her beloved Morkad that she would never turn to Chaos, and that her Morkad was dead. This man that stood before her was not the child she had loved. So Morkad left, with not a word more, and they never saw each other again.”

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  As the story finished, Celeste felt a chill breeze. Despite the revelers, the musicians, and the joy that surrounded them, a deep sadness fill her stomach. “I… I am so sorry.” Celeste found herself saying. It was all she could say.

  “It has been nearly sixteen years now since I have seen my beloved grandson.” The Ga’Na spoke. “But when Morkad came to see me that night, I saw a marking on his wrist.” Reaching down into the dirt before them, she marked an X in the dirt. “I… I fear that my Morkad is the one who leads this cult that plagues our home.”

  The whole world faded into a numbness as Celeste stared at that X in the dirt. It was their fault, her people’s fault. The Cult, the Chaos, all of it. If the mages had accepted Morkad, had not been blinded by cruel ignorance, then none of this would have happened. If that lord hadn’t been so wretched… Tears began to form in Celeste’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She managed to push out through her tight throat. “I’m so sorry that my people did this to you. Could be so… cruel to your grandson.”

  The Ga’Na reached out and caressed Celeste’s cheek, raising her gaze to meet her own. “You are young, and do not understand Mora Ga’Na.” She spoke, a calm pain in her voice. “My Morkad is what happens when a world does not care. But that world is melting away now, melting under your warmth. My Rekiak would have followed his uncle’s fate if not for you. How much greater would our world have been had Morkad known you then?” The Ga’Na shook her head. “Everyday more of my people return to us, begging forgiveness for joining the Cult. They tell me how Morkad is obsessed with you, how he hunts you endlessly. But I have also seen what you can do, the miracles you can work.” She held both of Celeste’s hands now, firm with a shaking grip. “I have no right child, but if you find my Morkad, if you face him.” Tears streamed down her cheeks now, deep desperation in her eyes. “please Mora Ga’Na, please save my boy.”

  Celeste froze and swallowed hard. “I…” She found herself wanting to say that there was nothing she could do, that someone so fallen to Chaos was beyond redemption. No, Celeste thought, none are beyond the Mother’s reach. “I… I will try.” Celeste eventually answered. Morkad, X, had done such terrible things. The Summoner had been under his command when he had killed that girl. But Celeste could also see the path, the pain that Morkad had born alone for so long. Perhaps if she…

  A deep, sickening sensation shot through Celeste. Her very skin crawled and all her senses flared with alarm. She could feel it, the Chaos, could feel it welling up like an overflowing river in every direction. Its burning cold nipping at her soul from everywhere. So sudden, so quick, yet so dark and powerful. Worse even than it had been in the sewers. Celeste fell forward on her hands, her chest heaving in panic.

  “Mora Ga’Na.” The Ga’Na spoke with concern. “Are you…”

  She was cut off by a blood curdling howl that echoed through the night. Deep and monstrous, it cut the wedding to an immediate silence. Hundreds of souls froze in place, all looking around nervously. Celeste rushed to her feet as quick as she could, stumbling with her long gown, straining her neck to look, to see what was causing this.

  In every direction, as far as she could see in Southshore, the flickering of fire began to rise. Then the shouts and screams began, echoing through the night from every direction.