Solo Radiant

[Solemn Warborn]

Summer, the 91st, 516 AV: about two bells before the season change Radiant “Solemn.” The voice that interrupted his sleep was no more than a whisper, the breath of a dream, but it had been enough to wake him. It was a familiar voice, one he had been dreaming of singing lullabies before it woke him. Still, he was convinced it was far too early to be up, so he ignored it. Rolling over, he did his best to ignore her, but Hiberna was not one to be easily pushed aside. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered as airily as she could, “I know you’re awake, Solemn. Don’t ignore me.” Solemn attempted to act like he was still asleep, so Hiberna tried doubly hard to stir him. As gently as she could, Hiberna blew into his exposed ear. Light and tickling, the pressure of her breath was too much to ignore, and Solemn sat upright, rubbing the ear to try to stop the sensation that lingered long after the instigating stimulus was gone. “Gods, Hib. I’m up. I’m up.” In the dim light of the fire from his hearth, Solemn watched a victorious smile pass over Hiberna’s face. Her eyes glittered green for a moment before fading to a gentle violet. “I knew you were awake.” “I am now, thanks to you. Before that though, I was enjoying a nice dream.” “Dreaming’s boring when you have the real world.” Hiberna’s smile softened. “Besides, hanging out with your sister has to be better than any dream.” Solemn had to give that one to her. There was nothing he wanted more than to have his sister by his side every day, the way it used to be when they were bonded. Her proximity had its disadvantages though. The remnants of the bond they had once shared still existed, and when she was close, Solemn felt the frayed ends of the bond reaching out for her. Sentient and wiser than any creature, the bond knew where it belonged, with whom it belonged, and it made a tangible effort to reunite itself with its other half. Hiberna had told him recently that she could feel that other half, and that it acted in much the same way as his. The bond wanted to reform. Moreover, Hiberna and Solemn wanted that connection again, but it hadn’t yet happened. Despite their determination and hope, despite their best efforts, despite the wonder they knew they had once felt, the three could not force the bond to recreate itself. “What time is it?” Solemn asked as he rubbed his sleepy eyes, trying to bring some life back into them, as if he could wipe away the haze of slumber. It wasn’t working. “It’s not quite the twenty-second bell.” “What?” Solemn was pretty sure he had heard that wrong. “The twenty-second bell.” Hiberna rolled her eyes at the fact she had to repeat herself. He opened his eyes wide in shock, then glared at her in annoyance. “Why in the Goddess’ name am I up then?” “Because there’s something I want you to see.” Her smile softened even more, transforming itself into the one she always used to give him in their childhood to let him know she was proud to be his sister. He cocked his head to the side and watched her through narrow eyes. “What is it?” “You’ll see it when you see it. Now come on. Quit wasting time.” He stood up and looked at the door to his room. “Am I going to need warm clothes?” “Yeah. It’s a bit of a walk.” With a sigh and limbs not entirely dedicated to the effort, Solemn set to the task of pulling on all his warm weather gear. He had his fur pants and shirt as a base layer and his parka over that. Then he pulled on his balaclava and wrapped his scarf around his neck. Finally, he pulled on his boots and mittens and opened the door, ushering Hiberna through. Solemn yawned a big yawn as they started through the Stables. “Goddess. I’m tired.” Hiberna’s smile brightened to a more mischievous one as her eyes danced into a shimmering green. “If you didn’t want to be disturbed, you should have locked your door.” “I can’t lock my door. All the stable hands pull pranks.” “Wouldn’t that make you want to lock the door even more?” “No. It would only protect me so long, and locking one’s door only tends to encourage pranks. It seems the longer pranksters are forced to wait, the worse their pranks become. It’s best just to put up with them and take whatever minor pranks they pull.” Hiberna laughed. “Of course, it is. It sounds like so much fun over here. I should drop by to visit more often.” Solemn smiled at the sound of laughter, her laughter. Too many years had passed since he had heard that. As they began to make their way through the Stables, Hiberna began a lullaby, one she had created specifically with Solemn in mind. It had only been mere weeks since he had heard her voice, but even that short of a period had been too long. Her voice was soft and low, gentle in the way a lullaby was meant to be, but in the spacious, high-ceilinged barn, the notes carried and reached the ears of the creatures kept safe around them. Whether they had grown accustomed to the safety the Stables provided or whether it was the lull of Hiberna’s voice, none of the animals seemed disturbed by their night’s rest being interrupted. Those that reacted, merely did so by coming to the front of their stalls to investigate the song. One horse nickered softly, wanting attention from the subject of her curiosity. Hiberna gave it gladly. Stroking the side of the huge face, Hiberna quieted her. “Hush, young one.” “How do you know she’s young?” Hiberna looked over to Solemn, a question in her eyes. “She’s not?” “No. She is.” Solemn recognized the horse. She was only a yearling. “I was just curious how you knew.” “Oh, that’s easy. Every creature has a voice. Hers is young.” “Indeed? What else does her voice tell you about her?” Hiberna shrugged. “Not much else, except that she’s a warrior.” “Why would you think that? She’s so quiet.” “Those with warrior spirits don’t need to boast. They are never loud.” Solemn smiled and jested with his sister. “What does that make you, then, being a singer and all?” Hiberna knew how to look wise when she wanted to. “When have you ever heard me sing as loud as I can?” Thinking about it for a moment, Solemn realized he couldn’t recall a single time. “Never.” She just smiled and flicked her head toward the entry to the Stables. “Come on. There’s something I want you to see.” Willingly, though his body still struggled to wake, Solemn followed her, and together, they stepped out into the cold, still night. The moon was new, nonexistent. A dead moon, as his mother had always called it. Darkness tried to pervade, sinking its inky, black tendrils into every fiber of everything, but above them, the aurora would not let that happen. Burning and dancing, tendrils of light combatted tendrils of darkness, and as these affairs always seemed to go, light was winning. The northern lights generously provided enough light for them to see their way by. With the crunch of snow beneath their feet accenting her song, Hiberna took them on a meandering trial through several Holds until finally they arrived at a building Solemn recognized. The Chapterhouse of the Order of Radiance. The main reason he recognized it was because it stood close to and watched over the one building in all Avanthal he hadn’t ascended. The Watchtower. An ancient standing beacon created by a God and Goddess pair. It was clear to him that it was a holy site, one that shouldn’t be treated with disregard. Furthermore, as it seemed to be with all things pertaining to the deities, the Watchtower had a definite air of danger surrounding it. He knew better than to chance that. Hiberna gestured to the building. “We’re here.” “This is what you wanted me to see?” “No. It’s inside.” She stepped up to the door, and remembering what little he had been taught about being a gentleman, Solemn opened the door for her.

[Solemn Warborn]

Solemn entered the building behind Hiberna, stomping the snow off his boots. Being Vantha and Morwen-marked, Hiberna was already shedding her coat, the heat of the fires indoors being too oppressive for heavy outer layers. Solemn, for his part, took his time warming up and left his coat on. Being what it was, the Chapterhouse wasn’t a place Solemn frequented, and he hadn’t remembered it being so beautifully crafted. While the outside was an intimidating wall of stone to withstand the forces of Talderan weather, the inside was warm and inviting. Though the floors were still made of stone, they were overlaid with woven rugs that were so soft they seemed to sink beneath one’s step. The walls were masterworks of Avanthal’s finest carvers. Wooden images of idyllic scenes from all around Mizahar were set into the finest specimens of polished mahogany and black walnut from the forests of southern Taldera and in the middle of each one was one of the iconic Watchtowers. Once when his mother had brought him here, he had marveled at how smooth the wood was when he ran his hands over it. Smattered about the walls was a variety of torches and fireplaces that provided hear and a gentle light, not garish but enough that he didn’t have to strain his eyes to see. There were many high-backed chairs scattered throughout the room, but they seemed to congregate around the fireplaces. There were a few people present. One small group was talking in hushed tones around one of the fireplaces, but they all looked up and smiled and waved to the newcomers. There was another man, silent and serene, dressed in a sharp suit, waiting in one of the large armchairs nearby the door. He, too, smiled at them and stood with a warm greeting. “Hiberna Snowsong. Welcome back, child.” “Hello, Vincent. How are you?” “Warm and content. Yourself?” “The same. I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet. This is Solemn. My brother.” Taking Solemn’s mittened hand in his, Vincent shook it heartily. As the man took the Kelvic’s hand, a soft glow emanated from his palm, and Solemn felt his hope and resolve to rejoin Hiberna as his sister bolstered. “Welcome, Solomon.” “Solemn,” Hiberna corrected. “Like somber.” “Forgive me,” Vincent apologized with a smile as he released Solemn’s hand. He turned to Hiberna. “I didn’t realize your parents had another child.” “Oh, they didn’t.” Hiberna hugged Solemn from the side, leaning into him, providing him with a heat he never could seem to find of his own accord. “He’s adopted.” Gesturing to some nearby chairs, Vincent waited for them to sit before sitting himself. “They never mentioned adopting.” “They didn’t adopt him. I did.” Vincent laughed, and as he did, the fires seemed a little warmer and a little brighter for it. The mood itself lifted even more. This was a place of peace, of serenity, and of hope. Vincent nodded. “I remember you being that way when you were younger. How long ago did you adopt him?” “When he was eight months old.” “But he’s older than you.” “No, he’s not. He’s only six.” Vincent looked at Solemn, a full grown man, for a moment in confusion, then nodded as he made the assumption of Solemn’s less than human nature. “So what brings you two to the Chapterhouse?” “There was a story you told me the last time I visited. It reminded me of one that Solemn always used to tell me when we were younger.” The Chapterhouse member templed his fingers together in front of him. “And what story is that?” “The story of Marcus and Myrna Kelvic.” “The Kelvic siblings?” This interested Vincent. He gestured to Solemn. “I’d like to hear it.” Solemn leaned back in his chair, collecting his thoughts about him, trying to recall every detail his mother had told him the many times she had told it when he was a child. When he was ready, he met the two pairs of eyes watching him and smiled.