We now, free of sin,

Saved by our fore bearers.

-Korek Song of the Covenant

Celeste lowered herself into a chair and studied the sitting chamber. The chair was old but sturdy, small splinters and flakes of paint betraying its many years of loving labour. Looking around, Celeste found those words could be used to describe much of the small home. From the plaster walls, more patched over than not, to the old warped wood table in the corner, everything that made up the small room was old and well cared for. The kind of home that had a sense of history. Not the history of kings and priests or of heroes and warriors. But the small histories, the ones marked by laughter and companionship. Every scratch upon the table was a young man learning to use a knife. Every scuff and mark on the floor, a couple’s first dance, or old friends pulling chairs to catch up.

“Ah, here you go milord.” Rekiak mumbled, pulling a chair for Vallerian out. The large man had to duck to move beneath the low ceiling; obviously not made with a Korek's height in mind. Rekiak had positioned a small circle of chairs in front of the low burning hearth, a large cast-iron pot bubbling away in it.

Her sisters had already been given chairs and the three sat in relative comfort. Well, Celeste and Arabella did, Valleresa’s chair had one leg shorter than the rest and the wobbling seemed to irritate her. Kriss stood by the door, leaning against the wood frame. Despite her best assurances, he seemed tense and ready for something to go wrong.

With a loud thud, Rekiak sat down on a low bench he had pulled over to their small circle of chairs.

“You have a beautiful home Rekiak.” Celeste began. Rekiak raised an eyebrow, then looked around.

“Oh. No. This is not my home. I just live here with…” He shook his head. “I rent out a room above. Several other families do the same here. It is early though, and they are out. We have a moment to speak alone.”

Celeste nodded. She had heard that most people in Southshore lived in group homes like this. Small spaces where a family of five or six might squeeze into a small chamber barely big enough to sleep in. That sounded so pleasant, a whole family all close and resting together. She had never had that, even if her father had insisted that her handmaidens sleep in her bed every night. Family, one of the greatest gifts from the First Mother. Celeste looked up at Rekiak, even hunched over, he towered over her with a proper red complexion of a healthy Korek man. She would do the Mother’s work and reunite this man with his family.

“Rekiak, your absence is felt greatly in the band. The Ga’Na in particular wants you home.” Celeste said. Rekiak shifted uncomfortably in his seat and did not meet Celeste’s gaze.

“It… is not so simple as that.” Rekiak said. His Terminian was the best Celeste had heard from a Korek, yet his tongue still seemed to muddy the softer sounds like S and Th's. But perhaps that was a case of just having large tongues. Everything else about the Korek seemed to be larger. “I can not return to the band. Not after what I have done.”

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“Serves you right too.” Vallerian cut in. “Joining a Chaos cult. Must be a damned idiot.”

Celeste shot Vallerian a disappointed look before turning back to Rekiak.

“I left the master's service… I mean, I left the cult many weeks ago now.” Rekiak explained. “It was wrong. I know that now.” The large man seemed ashamed of his words, his head bowed and shoulders slumped. Celeste felt a flutter in her chest. So there was hope for those who drifted from the Pantheon. Rekiak had left the cult of his own choice. This man, who had come so close to that darkness she had felt in the baby, had turned away from it. If Celeste could get him to tell her what had changed his heart, what had led him back onto the path of virtue, then perhaps she could help others.

“What changed Rekiak?” Celeste asked. The hunched man flexed his jaw and studied the floor.

“It is… complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it then.” Valleresa groaned. Celeste shot her a glare now as well. It seemed the twins were more alike than either would admit. Celeste shook her head, it seemed impatience was a family trait. Patience and compassion had gotten her more answers in her life than any prodding Celeste had witnessed from her friends.

“Rekiak, we want to help you. But we can’t do it if you don’t talk to us.” Celeste explained, only taking her eyes off Valleresa when the girl began to study the floor as well.

Rekiak let out a loud sigh, clenched his fists, then looked up. “I began to follow the master because he was strong. Because he offered us an alternative to being trampled on by the nobles and citizens of the city.” Rekiak held their gaze. “I was tired of being less than the Terminians. I still feel that way.” Rekiak eyed Vallerian as he spoke, acknowledging the presence of a nobleman. The words seemed hard for him to say. That was brave of him, to face those he felt wronged by.

“You are Terminian my friend.” Celeste reminded him. That was the problem, the people of Southshore, from Korek to Silver-Skull, all felt apart from the kingdom, and the faith that was supposed to serve them.

“Am I? If I travel the highways will the patrolling guards let me walk free? Can I enter the city gates just because I wish to buy in Silvermarket? I am no Fershya like you, free to go as I may.”

Celeste met his gaze. “We are more alike than different, friend. Like you, I have lived my life in the shadows of those walls, knowing that I too would be stopped at those gates. That I too am not welcome to see the other side of Terminia's great walls.”

Finally, Rekiak looked at her. Their eyes met, and then his grew wide with shock. “The lost heir.” He muttered. “The Prophetess…”

“We are both Children of Southshore Rekiak. Southshore is a part of this kingdom just as much as the palace is. But I ask, what would Southshore be without the Korek?” She held his gaze, refusing to break. If there was one thing she had learned from her books, it was that Korek valued strength of will. She would prove herself to this man and gain his trust in the process.

Eventually Rekiak broke their eye contact, shaking his head. “No, that is not what my uncle found.”

“Your uncle?” Celeste frowned. Rekiak waved a hand dismissively.

“I have left the master’s service, that is all that matters now. I am no longer of the cult.”

Vallerian groaned loudly. “Yes, we get that part. But she’s asking you why.” Vallerian was pushing back on his chair, balancing it on just the hind legs.

Rekiak seemed to grow flustered. Somehow the red-skinned man’s cheeks grew even brighter red. “well you see… I uhh… I met someone and umm…”

“My dear, who are these people?” A soft, light voice asked. All heads turn towards the new arrival. A woman descended from the small staircase in the corner of the room. A Fershya woman like Celeste, fair of skin with long brown hair with golden streaks. Looking at her, Celeste saw something. A certain glow of light, a resonating of sorts. Celeste couldn’t say exactly what it was, but looking at the woman in that moment she knew one thing. She was with child.