Sister Lanora approached to within three yards of them, near enough to close the distance at least somewhat and define a smaller space for their conversation than the entire grand sanctuary. The four priestesses of her escort trailed along deferentially but without any display of military precision, staggering to a stop when she did and milling into an uneven formation that didn’t even presume to match the two wings of mixed Avenists and Eserites flanking Trissiny.
The leader of the Purists hesitated, then nodded deeply in a gesture which slightly shifted her whole upper body, approaching but not quite becoming a bow. Trissiny inclined her head fractionally in acknowledgment.
An expectant silence hung, in which a constant soft murmur of speculation filled the temple, coming from both the mixed crowd of visitors and the Purist priestesses themselves flanking the opposite side. Lanora herself paused again, watching Trissiny closely as if uncertain how to proceed. The paladin just studied her, eyes roving across the unique attire of the Purists.
Finally, Lanora straightened her shoulders and opened her mouth, drawing breath to speak, but before she could form a syllable Trissiny cut in, her voice projected loudly enough to echo through the sanctuary despite the close quarters.
“Where did you get those swords?”
Sister Lanora was visibly surprised and hesitated once more, having to change track mid-thought. “They are one of the unique markers of our order, General Avelea.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to be evasive,” Trissiny replied in perfect calm, prompting a general increase in the surrounding murmur that caused Lanora to glance irritably at the crowd. “I assure, you, Sister, I know what a longsword is, and I can plainly see the role they are assigned in your uniform. I asked where you got them. Swords are not mass produced outside of the Five Kingdoms or the Silver Legions, and those are standard equipment for neither. The Sisterhood has not funded your activities. So much good steel, made to matching specifications, requires significant financial backing.”
“We…do have financial support, yes,” Lanora replied after another awkward pause.
“From whom?”
“Excuse me, General, but I know your time here is limited, and I wished to discuss matters of a more spiritual nature.”
“Certainly, once you demonstrate willingness to discuss in good faith. This attempt to conceal the source of your funding does not reflect well upon your intentions, Sister.”
More muttering at that, accompanied by a few audible chuckles. Lanora’s face tightened, and all four of her accompanying priestesses looked either troubled or annoyed.
“I’m sure you have noticed that our commitment to pure interpretation of Avei’s law is not popular,” Lanora answered in a strained tone. “Like most who have the resources to engage in philanthropy, our backer is vulnerable to political currents and prefers to remain anonymous.”
“Ah,” Trissiny nodded, “clearly you cannot disclose a name in public, then. So I assume, naturally, that you have disclosed this backer’s identity to the High Commander, in accordance with Sisterhood doctrine and custom.”
“That isn’t required by doctrine,” Lanora said testily.
Trissiny raised one eyebrow. “That’s a ‘no,’ I take it.”
“We receive communication via lawyers and bankers,” the Purist said, now in open annoyance. “They are quite determined to ensure their privacy. There’s nothing I could disclose.”
“And you did not find that at all suspicious?” Trissiny asked sardonically.
“On the contrary,” Lanora shot back, “I was gratified at the evidence that our devotion has supporters even outside the Sisterhood itself. If, indeed, our support is from someone other than an Avenist. Frankly, I suspect she may simply be using anonymity to move free of the Sisterhood’s politics. After all, Avei’s faithful have always been well-represented among the legal profession.”
“Gratified,” Trissiny said, still projecting from the diaphragm but lowering her voice as if speaking to herself, a useful trick she’d picked up from Style. “Yes, I’m sure you were.”
Lanora scowled at the titters which ensued from half the sanctuary at that. “With that out of the way, General, I have concerns of my own that I—that we—wish to discuss with you.”
“That’s mostly a dueling weapon, isn’t it?” Trissiny said, lowering her eyes to the sword at Lanora’s waist and nodding her head once. “There are formation fighting tactics which incorporate use of the longsword, but they aren’t Legion standard these days. I am impressed, Sister, that you’ve accumulated this many specialists in exotic weaponry to your cause. Especially since your unifying philosophy doesn’t appear to have anything to do with a specific fighting style.”
“You seem strangely fixated on my sword, General Avelea,” Lanora exclaimed.
“Is it so strange?” Trissiny rested a hand on the hilt of her own short sword, her armor rasping softly as she shrugged. “It seems you have gathered to pursue a fundamentalist interpretation of Avenist doctrine. So, naturally, of course, you would never do something so disrespectful to the goddess of war as affect weapons you cannot effectively use as…some kind of fashion statement.” Her lips curled up in a wintry little smile which did not approach her eyes. “Therefore, you must all be highly skilled in the use of those unusual blades. Which, again, seems unconnected to your dogma. That is a powerful coincidence, Sister. Is it truly odd that I would take note of it?”
The muttering had grown ever more fervently anticipatory, and there was more muffled laughter now. This time, more of the Purists than otherwise looked openly uncomfortable, quite a few clutching the long hilts of their swords as if for comfort. Sister Lanora’s expression had gone rigid, and she had to pause and swallow before answering in a tight voice.
“Yes, well, we view them as…as a symbol of an older, more pure era of Avenist worship. We Purists gather like-minded women and teach the sword—”
“So you do train in longsword fighting?” Trissiny interrupted.
Lanora’s eye twitched, but she managed to answer in an even tone. “Of course, General.”
Trissiny’s sword rasped as she drew it from its scabbard. “Show me.”
Her escort backed up, the Eserites and Zafi grinning in anticipation. Lanora and her fellow priestesses also stepped backward, suddenly looking alarmed.
“I… General, this is a sanctuary. I really don’t think this is appropriate.”
“Devoted as you are to purity of doctrine,” Trissiny replied with a pleasant smile, “I’m certain I needn’t do anything so condescending as remind you what Avei is goddess of. I have doubts about your intentions, Sister. Showing me that you treat the martial aspect of our faith with due respect would help a great deal in putting them at ease.”
Lanora swallowed visibly. “I… Obviously, I am not a match in martial skill for the Hand of Avei.”
“Don’t worry, Sister, I won’t hurt you.”
This time, a few of the laughs came from Silver Legionnaires, to judge by the snap of a sergeant calling them back to order.
Seemingly left with no response to that, Lanora finally swallowed again and drew her sword. Trissiny saluted her in the Avenist style, right fist over her heart with her blade held vertically alongside her face. Lanora started to do the same, then changed tacks and simply bowed. She then adopted a ready stance, longsword held before her in both hands at an angle.
Trissiny stood in a relaxed posture, sword at her side in one hand and with her shield still on her back. Quiet had fallen in the temple as the two squared off, their respective escorts backing further away from the incipient duel. Several heartbeats of silence passed.
“Well?” Trissiny asked finally.
Lanora pressed her lips together and took a step forward, raising the sword over her left shoulder. She strode into the diagonal swing she directed at the paladin, putting her whole weight behind the blade’s arc.
Trissiny’s entire body tensed and uncoiled like a striking snake; starting from an apparently loose stance, she shifted and met the descending longsword in a sweeping horizontal slash at head level. The colliding blades rang loudly through the temple and the force of it sent Lanora staggering past and to one side. Trissiny stood calm and relaxed again, sword already lowered before the priestess managed to regain her footing and turn.
The loudest chorus of open laughter yet followed, at least until Trissiny suddenly turned to face the non-Purist side of the room with a frown.
“That is not appropriate conduct for a temple sanctuary. Sergeants at arms, you may clear the room if due respect for Avei’s holy ground is not observed.”
Embarrassed silence ensued.
Trissiny turned back to the increasingly frustrated Sister Lanora, inclining her head. “Excuse me, Sister. Please, continue.”
Lanora’s mood did not seem improved by the apology. This time she came forward with less hesitation, switching to a one-handed grip and launching into a series of jabs and parries. Trissiny sidestepped and deflected, allowing the longer reach of Lanora’s weapon to push her in circles of constant retreat. Despite being strictly on the defensive, there was no question to the onlookers that she was not in control; she remained relaxed and upright in posture, using only desultory motions of one hand to respond.
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“Enough,” she said finally, lowering her blade and not appearing to be bothered when Lanora’s descended to within inches of her face before the priestess could rein in her strike. “You disappoint me, Sister. That is just the Eagle Style short sword form. You seem competent enough, but that style is not at all suited to the weight and reach of that weapon. Have you truly not trained at all in its appropriate use?”
Lanora was red-faced and out of breath, though by the look of her at least as much from frustration as exertion. “We…are a spiritual order, General.”
“Mm.” Trissiny stepped back, turning to sweep her gaze across the line of unhappy-looking Purists on the other side of the temple, then abruptly pointed her weapon at one of them at random. “You. Step forward.”
The woman, a Westerner apparently not much older than Trissiny, widened her eyes and looked rapidly at each of the Purists standing to either side of her. The one on the left deliberately stepped away.
“Yes, you,” Trissiny said patiently. “Show me what you can do.”
“I…” she squeaked. “But, General, it’s…”
“It’s all right.”
“Does it really seem wise to duel bystanders with live steel, General Avelea?” Sister Magden interjected.
Trissiny gave her a sidelong look. “We are surrounded by divine healers, Sister, and a formal practice between skilled martial artists is far less dangerous than having over a hundred untrained incompetents walking around with deadly weapons they don’t know how to use. Indulge me as I reassure myself that the latter is not the case here. Come, Sister, time is passing.”
The hapless young priestess swallowed heavily, but finally obeyed, stepping forward and drawing the sword at her side. She adopted a ready stance like Lanora had, then in a deliberate motion that was practically telescrolled in advance, shifted grip to hold it sidelong at her waist and stepped forward in an attempted stab.
This time, Trissiny flowed smoothly into the attack, hooking her shorter blade behind the longsword’s large crosshilt and spinning in a maneuver which both yanked the weapon entirely out of the Purist’s grasp and evaded a bodily collision between them.
The sword flew two yards and clattered loudly to the temple floor, leaving it’s owner to stagger in a different direction.
“That was pitiful,” Trissiny said with open disdain. “Anyone with rudimentary Legion training could have avoided that.” The young woman hunched her shoulders and seemed like she wanted to collapse in on herself as she scurried to retrieve her fallen blade. Trissiny turned in a half-circle to again sweep her regard across the faltering ranks of the Purists. “Let’s try something less random, then. Who among you is the best duelist? Please, someone show me something slightly impressive.”
The Purists shuffled about uncertainly and Lanora opened her mouth to make a retort, but before she could, Sister Magden stepped forward, drawing her blade in a smooth motion and settling into a ready stance that looked more practiced than either performance thus far.
Trissiny shifted to face her, and nodded once.
Magden flowed forward smoothly, launching a series of rapid jabs and shallow cuts that made deft use of the blade’s greater length, immediately forcing Trissiny to retreat and defend. Her performance was better than Lanora’s by far; the paladin was actually compelled to take a balanced stance and put her whole body into her movements. For half a minute it looked as if Magden was beginning to prevail, but then Trissiny suddenly swatted a thrust aside with a powerful parry and darted forward.
Grabbing Magden’s blade near the hilt with one gauntleted hand, she held it aside and stepped right up to the priestess, pressing her short sword against her neck. Magden froze in place, her eyes going wide.
Trissiny relented a second later, stepping back and nodding to her. “Now, that is much more impressive. Sister Magden is to be commended for her competence with your chosen weapon. For the rest of you, I cannot say the same,” she added sharply, again dragging a glare across the shame-faced Purists. “It is unacceptable that this is the best your entire order can do. It’s clear to me that far more of you than otherwise have absolutely no business carrying those blades. A sword is an implement of death, Sisters. Its sole purpose is to end lives, or thwart others who have swords in doing the same. To treat a sword as an accessory or trinket is a shameful display of disrespect to Avei’s principles.”
“We are a spiritual order,” Lanora repeated loudly, still flushed. She stepped forward as Magden retreated, now going so far as to point accusingly at Trissiny. “Ours is a goddess of multiple aspects, and we have made no secret that we are dedicated far more to womanhood than to justice or war. The Purists have formed and come here to address the seeping corruption encroaching upon the Sisterhood of Avei! And it is clear to me that our arrival is not a moment too soon, when even our own paladin stands in the Temple itself accompanied by Eserites!”
“I’ve noticed that some misconceptions about paladins have set in during their thirty year absence,” Trissiny replied, sheathing her sword. “Hands of all the gods, but most particularly Avei, have always been accompanied by comrades of other faiths, or even sometimes of no faith. It is reckless naivete to attack large scale problems with only a single, specific set of skills.”
“And you find the Thieves’ Guild to be better company than your own sisters?” Lanora exclaimed.
Trissiny half turned and looked very pointedly at Sister Azalea, Zafi, and the two other white-robed priestesses who had accompanied her in. Rasha covered her mouth with her fingers, not quite concealing a smirk.
“I’ve become quite familiar with the Thieves’ Guild in particular,” Trissiny said, turning back to address the room at large. “As well as making friends among Salyrites, Vidians… Even, to my own surprise, a Shaathist. About the Guild I can tell you that Eserion’s faithful include a few of the best people it has ever been my honor to work alongside, as well as several of the most irredeemably despicable. In the end, none of us are cloistered orders. We are called to act in the world, to protect people, strike down evil, and do what we can to make the world a better place. I will proudly stand alongside anyone who serves the Pantheon’s mandate to aid the people of this world. I will, if I must, tolerate the opinions of people with whom I disagree spiritually, so long as their actions do not flout Avei’s sacred principles or bring harm to the vulnerable. And this is what I expect every one of you to do, if you would call yourselves followers of Avei.”
“It is ever more clear,” Lanora grated, “that our arrival here is timely, General Avelea, if you are so obviously swayed by Eserite beliefs.”
“Perhaps you can point out to me exactly which part of what I just said is an Eserite belief, Sister?” Trissiny suggested with a wry smile. She paused a second for pure effect while Lanora stammered and the muttering and tittering began again from the onlookers, then pressed on before the Purist could regather her composure. “Or is the issue here that you think the Hand of Avei requires your personal oversight? The goddess watches my steps and has corrected me in the past. Do you believe you know better than Avei what she requires of her paladin?”
Lanora flushed even more deeply at that, going so far as to clench her fists, but this time she had a good enough head to steam to retort without having to gather herself. “Then perhaps you can tell us what Avei intends to do about the Sisterhood’s corrupt practice of aiding mentally sick men in the delusion that they belong among us?”
“Avei has never turned men away from her service,” Trissiny replied, her composure a stark counterpoint to the Purist’s rising agitation. “Did you know that before the Silver Legions as we know them today existed, their predecessor, the League of Avei, incorporated soldiers of both sexes? It would seem that what you seek is not a return to historical form, but the imposition of a newer one.”
“That doesn’t justify abetting delusional males in trying to transform themselves into women!”
“And who do you think you are, to decide who gets to be a woman? Your sheer presumption is astonishing.”
“Nature itself dictates that! We only seek to protect our Sisterhood from those who would twist its very foundations awry!”
“I didn’t really make the connection until you started ranting about nature,” Trissiny said, shaking her head regretfully. “If you truly believe the sole definition of womanhood is between your legs, I could almost think I was talking to a very confused Shaathist.”
Gasps rose from all around the temple, notably among the rows of Purists. Sister Lanora, previously flushed with anger, went absolutely white, stiffening her spine and widening her eyes in an expression of pure rage.
“But clearly, you are not going to heed any statement from me,” Trissiny continued, drawing her sword again. “Perhaps it is just as well. Even if I cannot settle this myself, I know who definitively can.”
The paladin knelt in place, reversing her grip to rest the sword point-down upon the temple floor and placing both her hands upon its pommel. As she bowed her head, a golden glow rose around her, quickly coalescing into the spreading wings of an eagle.
And then, the rising tide of voices was snuffed out as an overwhelming psychic presence descended upon the sanctuary. The light blazed to fill the room entirely, and within its deepest intensity, centered upon the kneeling paladin, the towering shape of a woman was barely discernible. To the eyes, at least. To the mind, Avei’s manifest presence was like the pressure of the ocean at its deepest part.
Every Silver Legionnaire in the room snapped to attention; almost everyone else sank to their knees in awe. Even the Eserites backed away, wide-eyed and entirely without their customary aggressive nonchalance.
“Purity is a nonsense concept.”
Avei’s voice was Trissiny’s, layered with harmonies as if a dozen iterations of the same woman were speaking, and filling the chamber with a physical weight.
“The very idea of purity has never been anything but a pretext for egotism. It is an excuse for the weak-willed to single out targets for their condescension, because to scorn a perceived lesser individual is an easier path to self-gratification than the hard work of becoming a greater person. Through cries of purity, the corrupt in positions of power distract their followers from their own offenses by directing justified anger against harmless and helpless targets.
“Worse, the slander of impurity has ever been a weapon against womankind. In every land, across the whole scope of history, weak and frightened men have called women impure for one specious reason after another. For their bodies, for their minds, for any expression of sexuality, simply for bleeding, for any excuse, men in undeserving power have declaimed that women are impure. They create preposterous rules, demanding that women remain pure by adhering to absurd strictures which deny them vital aspects of what it means to be alive. It has never been anything but a pretext for unearned domination. Purity is a lie.
“And you take purity as the very name of your beliefs? It is a fitting description of your utter failure of character. You who declare yourselves Purists are engaged in nothing but gatekeeping. You presume to castigate others for the imaginary offense of being unlike yourselves. You try to place yourselves above those who should be your sisters, simply because you are too insecure and frightened to see any more valid way to respect yourselves than by disrespecting others. This pale shadow of a spiritual doctrine is pathetic. But that you possess the hideous gall to pronounce the calumny of purity in my name is disgusting.”
The goddess paused, and through the bell-like tone of concentrated magic that sang in the background of her address, the sound of several women quietly weeping could be heard in the temple.
“I will not suffer this,” Avei stated. “Lanora Taveraad, in addition to your moral failing, you have made of yourself and your followers useful idiots to the enemies of your Sisterhood. Your presence here is nothing but a disruption and an invitation to division, at a dangerous time when above all your sisters require unity. Worse, you prove through this failure that you have no comprehension of the reality of war. Your entire career is a demonstration that you have no place among my people.
“The so-called Purists will disband and disperse. You will abandon your foolish doctrine, return to your disparate homes, and devote yourself to repentance. You will educate yourselves about the realities you have tried to deny. Perhaps, eventually, those of you who possess the spark of true character beneath your arrogant self-delusion will rise to become Sisters of Avei in more than name.
“But you, Lanora, I cast out of my Sisterhood. Let your fate be a warning to all who dare to perpetrate either evil or foolishness in the name of Avei. I will tolerate neither.
“All of you: cultivate courage, intelligence, honor, and compassion toward each other. Let there be no more talk of purity. She who preaches purity seeks only to control, and to deceive. Scorn and shun her.”
She fell silent, and over the ensuing few seconds, the overwhelming pressure of the goddess’s presence retreated, followed by the distant tone of bells, and the golden light. In its final departure, there was relative quiet in the temple as Trissiny rose slowly to her feet. Quiet, but not silence, as Lanora hunched where she had knelt in the center of the floor, clutching herself and sobbing.