Martin was reading in his study. The Zimoran King had sent him a question about a certain aspect of the healing power, and he was doing his best to back his answer up with other sources.

A knock came to his door.

“Come in,” Martin said.

The door opened and Martin was shocked to see Nathaniel. He smiled wide, practically leaping to his feet. “Son!”

He smiled. “Hello, Father.”

Martin moved around his desk to give him a hug. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes. I wanted to come see Indenuel. The news from the city reached me, and it sounded like he was under a lot of stress.”

“Oh, no doubt,” Martin said as he broke away. “A lot of things are beginning to pile up for the poor boy. These two marked individuals have practically disappeared from the city. I cannot imagine the kind of stress he’s under.”

Nathaniel closed the door. “I hope you don’t mind. I sent on ahead for Rosa and my boys to meet me here in the Cathedral. I haven’t seen them in months.”

“It’s a surprise you didn’t visit them first,” Martin said.

“It was important I talk with Indenuel,” Nathaniel said.

“Well come. Sit down. Any news we as High Elders should be aware of?” Martin asked as he waited for his son to sit down in his chair before he moved behind his desk.

“Kiam is quiet. We think they’re gathering a large number to hit our defenses hard to try and break through,” Nathaniel said.

Martin nodded. “Yes, yes. We’re trying to gather as many men as we can to help.”

“I’m sure you know more about the war than I do,” Nathaniel said.

“Well, get that promotion to General and I’m sure you’ll be privy to more information,” Martin said.

Nathaniel laughed. “No, no. I don’t want it. I’m content with my own troops. How is your training with Indenuel going?”

“It’s great. That boy truly is a marvel in the healing powers. There is little I can teach him,” Martin said.

“I doubt that,” Nathaniel said. “You are, after all, Martin the Healer. You didn’t come to those titles without being the best.” Martin shook his head, smiling. Nathaniel leaned back. “Which reminds me, you’re training him tomorrow, right?”

“I am, yes. I’m worried what all this stress is doing to him. It could have a negative impact on his powers,” Martin said.

Nathaniel nodded, mulling over something in his mind. “I need you to promise me you’ll be there for him.”

Martin gave his son a curious look. “What?”

“I came home because there was something in his letter which worried me. Indenuel is closing in on himself. It is a lot for a nineteen-year-old to handle. Far too much, in my opinion. He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I’m afraid he’s starting to crack.”

Martin frowned, watching Nathaniel. “You two have created quite the bond.”

“And you need to create a stronger one with him. He doesn’t feel like he can go to you anymore. You all need to help and support each other.”

Martin’s frown deepened. “Nathaniel? What are you saying?”

He stared, so many thoughts flickering through him Martin didn’t understand. “He told me God was dead.”

Martin’s face dropped. He stayed still, before tearing his gaze away. “And I hope you will keep such knowledge to yourself?”

Nathaniel’s smile was small. “Thank you for not trying to make Indenuel out to be a liar.”

“Promise me you will keep such knowledge to yourself,” Martin repeated.

He nodded. “Of course, Father. I promise.”

Martin studied his son, seeing how calm and collected he was. This was nowhere near his reaction when he found out. “It doesn’t concern you?” Martin couldn’t help but ask.

“I assume the High Elders have their reason.” Nathaniel’s green eyes bore deeply into Martin’s. “And I assume they are good ones.”

Martin gave a tiny nod before looking away again, straightening the books on his desk before meeting Nathaniel’s gaze once again. “I assure you, Nathaniel. I am doing everything in my power to keep people on the path that will get them to rest easily in the next life.”

“Even if there is no God there to greet them?” Nathaniel asked, the first hint of a waver to his voice.

Martin sighed. “Even if there is no God. But hopefully there will be family. And friends. And we will have the kind of relationship that will make the afterlife seem like a heaven to us.”

“Father,” Nathaniel started to say, thinking through his words. “Will you be there? In Heaven?”

Martin frowned. “What an odd question.”

“I’m just curious. With everything you’ve done as High Elder, have you done what you can to make sure your soul rests easy with the good spirits?”

Martin said nothing. He stared at his son, the smile beginning to drop from his face. His mind went through everything he had done the past few decades. He did not focus on the good. It was all the bad. And, admittedly, he had a lot of memories to sort through. “It is of course an odd question because we cannot know for sure until we pass on.” He put on one of his smiles. “Of course, living the doctrines of the church, being a High Elder, it all but guarantees me a spot to rest with the good spirits.” He practiced that line so much it almost sounded sincere when it came out.

Nathaniel almost asked another question when the door opened, and Adrian sprinted into the room. “Hey! There’s my little man!” Adrian laughed in delight as Nathaniel picked him up and spun him around. His four other boys hugged him all at once, and Nathaniel tried to lift all of them but had to laugh. “Either I am getting too old, or you all are getting too big!”

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“It’s both, Father,” Eduardo said.

“Thank you for your honesty, son,” Nathaniel said with another laugh, patting him on the head. Eduardo beamed.

Rosa came to him, not holding back at all as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. Nathaniel broke away fast, touching his week-old beard. “Too prickly?”

“I don’t care,” Rosa said before kissing him again, this time much more deeply. Nathaniel did not argue. Aaron started to gag.

“Come on, Ami! Does it have to be here?” Diego asked.

Rosa, obviously, did not answer. Martin smiled at his grandsons. “You are lucky, boys. Your parent’s love is a gift.”

***

The servants brought in six boxes to Inessa. The house was a little chaotic what with Nathaniel’s surprise arrival, so she was at first confused what these were. She stood aside as the servants brought them in, pulling her new wardrobe out of the boxes. She couldn’t help but smile as she saw the beautiful dresses.

A servant curtseyed before opening a letter to read to her. “Tima says if the High Elders tell you they break the rules to tell them to come to her directly and she can prove them wrong.”

Inessa smiled. Tima was far too bold, yet she couldn’t help but like her anyway. “Tell her thank you. And I will stay in touch.”

The servant curtseyed again before leaving.

***

Indenuel straightened his shirt, double checking it covered everything before he knocked on Martin’s study. Tolomon was strangely quiet. Ever since Nathaniel had come yesterday, he eased off on trying to get Indenuel to confess. Instead, he gave off the impression he was simply preparing for the worst. The hardest part about the Day of the Devil tomorrow was knowing Tolomon would watch the entire thing. But it wasn’t enough for him to want to confess.

Martin opened the door to the cathedral study, giving an almost fatherly smile. It threw him off. “Welcome, my boy. Come on in.”

Indenuel gave a prepared smile as he followed behind Tolomon. He reminded himself he had this one lesson, just one more, then he could meditate for the rest of the day before the Day of the Devil.

“Are you feeling well, my boy?” Martin asked. “I know the stress of what has happened recently has-”

“I’m doing better,” Indenuel said before Martin could go any further down this conversation. “Really. Queen Lisabeth has sent me copies of the children’s progress today. I’m pleased with how well they’re doing.”

Martin smiled. “They are indeed such bright young children. Queen Lisabeth even says Matteo has gotten a few potential apprenticeships asking about him.”

There was a pain in his heart. “Really?” He tried not to sound too desperate for any information about Matteo.

“Quite the little scholar hiding here. I think the biggest thing is that his gift still hasn’t manifested. Strange that it should take so long,” Martin said.

Indenuel nodded, a thought crossing his mind. “Maybe they should check him for speaking to the dead.”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Any particular reason?”

Indenuel shrugged. “I know it’s a harder gift to develop. And no one in our village had that kind of power. No one was there to mentor him through it.”

“Well, you were there for him,” Martin said.

Indenuel tried hard not to show how much that comment had unintentionally hurt him. He should have been there for Matteo, should still be there, but he wasn’t. “I was trying too hard to hide my gifts to help, sir.”

“Ah, I see,” Martin said as he motioned Tolomon forward. “Now, let’s see how much you’ve improved. If you are willing, Tolomon, cut through muscle.”

“Of course, sir,” he said before taking out one of his daggers.

“Wait-” Indenuel started to say, but it was too late. Tolomon already made the cut on his forearm, not even wincing, before holding his bleeding arm out to Indenuel, waiting. He stared, doing his best not to widen his eyes. Tolomon watched Indenuel’s face, keeping his arm out, a slow smile crossing his face. His reaction should have been obnoxious, but Indenuel was hit with a terrifying realization. Not that long ago, Indenuel saved Tolomon’s life. He awed the High Elders with his massive display of power, and he didn’t have it anymore. It wasn’t that loss of respect of the High Elders he mourned. It was if Tolomon ever was in that situation again, he wouldn’t have the power to save him again. His current plan was just to hole himself up in his house until he was powerful enough again, but would Kiam try to attack again?

Tolomon waited. Martin held out a handkerchief to keep the blood from dripping onto the floor. “Indenuel?”

Indenuel nodded, then reached out, touching his bodyguard’s arm and closing his eyes.

There was chaos. The chaos in his own body far outweighed anything he could sense in Tolomon’s. His fingers were wet with blood as he pushed forward, forcing him to sense the urgency in the body, the need to be healed. His healing power wrestled though too much chaos until hardly a trickle came through, barely able to thread the skin together before falling away again.

Indenuel dropped his hands, backing away, tears in his eyes. “I can’t… I can’t.” Indenuel looked at Tolomon, who waited, a slight eagerness in his eyes. “The stress. It’s… stress.”

Tolomon’s face hardened ever so slightly.

“Ah, my boy.” Martin placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. It’s been known to happen.” With the other hand, Martin easily healed Tolomon’s arm.

There were tears in Indenuel’s eyes as he eased himself out of Martin’s grip. “This time of year is hard for me,” Indenuel said. “Do you think… do you think we could end it early?”

Martin’s face was full of compassion while Tolomon’s was hard. “Of course, Indenuel. We are having a dinner tonight. Nathaniel will be there. Would you like to come?”

The first of the tears fell from his eyes as he shook his head, backing away. “I’ll… I’ll see you after the holiday, Martin.”

“Alright. Take it easy the rest of the day,” Martin said.

It was all the permission he needed. He turned around, heading for the door as Tolomon followed right behind.

“Indenuel?”

He didn’t say anything. He hoped if he didn’t say anything, Tolomon would just drop it, but it would never work. Tolomon clearly had a lot of thoughts on his mind, none of which were good. Once they were in the carriage, Tolomon pulled out a handkerchief, wiping off the remaining blood from his arm.

“I’m sorry,” Indenuel said.

“No, you’re not,” Tolomon said, weight to his voice. “What you’re apologizing for is your pride that keeps you from doing the right thing. You are apologizing because you don’t have the strength to put your pride to the side and confess. You’re saying sorry because you think I’ll just forgive you, so you feel better about doing the exact same thing you always do, which is nothing.” There was more anger to his voice the longer he spoke.

“This is just how I’ve done it in the past,” Indenuel said.

“You’re not there anymore, you stubborn ass,” Tolomon said, the anger sharp. “You don’t have to keep doing things on your own. People are relying on you now more than ever, and if we haven’t made ourselves perfectly clear, none of us expect you to do this alone. In fact, you need us. If you don’t do everything you can to keep your powers strong, both of us are going to wind up dead.”

Indenuel winced, backing away from Tolomon out of instinct. The carriage ride was quiet and uncomfortable. A growing dread bloomed in his stomach. Tomorrow was the Day of the Devil, and he had a faint pink mark still on his chest. Faint, and yet there was still so much chaos in him. He could barely use his healing power. Tolomon finished wiping his arm before throwing the handkerchief at Indenuel. He leapt in surprise as he caught it, wondering why before he realized he had Tolomon’s blood on his fingers. “So, what should I expect tomorrow?” There was still the ghost of anger in his voice as Indenuel finished wiping the blood off his hands.

“I…” Tolomon glared at him, and he was trying not to shrink in his gaze. “Just… leave me be.” Indenuel lost conviction toward the end. “I’ll stay in bed.”

“All day?” Tolomon asked as he extended his hand for the handkerchief. At least, that’s what Indenuel realized was what Tolomon meant to do, but Indenuel flinched, backing away so he was farther than an arm’s length from Tolomon

“Yes, sir,” Indenuel whispered as he found himself in the corner of the carriage.

Tolomon glanced at him, arm still extended for the handkerchief. Indenuel realized how scared he looked, backed into the corner of the carriage, afraid Tolomon was going to start beating him. All these thoughts must have been clear on his face, because the anger disappeared from Tolomon’s face. “I’m no sir to you.”

Indenuel looked away, reminded again that he was in the highest of social classes, even though no one in their right mind should have stuck him there. He tried to relax before he gave Tolomon his handkerchief back. “Sometimes I forget.”

They said nothing the rest of the carriage ride home.