Of Sinners and Saints (Sondra)

[Veldrys]

Winter 22, 511 AV

It had begun to snow.

Veldrys stood at one of the windows of the Chapel, looked outside, at the white blanket that had begun to envelop the world and watched the snowflakes as they fell from the sky with utter fascination.

In Kalinor it had never snowed. Summer and winter had been the same. The weather had never changed. There had been nothing to mark the passing of the seasons. It had never become warmer or colder.

Even though he had been on the surface for about a year now, it never ceased to amaze him. Did the humans even realize how beautiful their world was? Were his people aware of what they were missing, that the surface had more to offer than the occasional surrogate?

Everything looked so quiet and peaceful now. It was almost as if the murder had never happened, as if nobody had ever fallen ill, as if that ominous prophecy had never existed.

For a moment he could almost believe that everything was alright, but of course that was only an illusion.

Nothing was alright. Things were only getting worse. He hadn’t gotten anywhere with his research. He still didn’t know what exactly the prophecy meant. He still hadn’t found the stone. He still hadn’t found a way to keep the women of his race from dying ...

He still felt bad because of the things he had done in Kalinor. Xelhes, the Ethaefal he had talked to a short while ago, seemed to believe that killing another being was at least halfway acceptable if that was the only way to ensure your own survival, but he wasn’t convinced of it. No matter how you turned it, somebody died in the end, and those that your victim left behind would probably suffer for the rest of their lives.

He couldn’t condone the things his people did, their crimes, their sins ... but on the other hand, wasn’t a Symenestra that criticized his people equally bad? They were fighting for their lives. Who was he to tell them that they shouldn’t do it anymore?

He took his knife, about to make a cut, to sacrifice a drop of blood, but then he decided against it. Viratas didn’t care about such trivial matters. His god wouldn’t answer.

What did the conflict of conscience of one single Symenestra matter when the future of Denval, the future of all of them was at stake?

[Sondra]

She slipped into the chapel, cursing at the cold. There was no air of penitence or reverence about the woman. Her arrival had more to do with the numbness in her fingers than a feeling in her heart. Not completely devoid of respect, the Konti tried to assume a modicum of piety for the chapel, but religious quietude was an ill-fitting coat on her. It was obvious she had not been in a house of worship in a long while. A gesture was made and she spoke several words in Kontinese to honor her pale mother and tide- bringing father. It would only be a few chimes, she thought, just enough to petching feel her extremities again. She could sit in a pew, say a prayer for Avari and slip away. Maybe one for Ethan, too. Whether they would avail much was up to the mercy of the divine. Sondra looked around the stone chapel, trying to ascertain what gods it was truly built for. The humble rafters and windows were daunting to her, imbued with higher purpose than the mere shelter she sought. In her search, her gaze stopped on the acolyte at the window. His unmistakable silhouette and pallor made her shudder, a different kind of chill creeping up from her gut. One of them had crawled out from the dark to pick the bones of the world. “Petch me,” this phrase was surprise and obliterated all her pretense of piety, but the next was all suspicion, “You’re a bit far from home.”

[Veldrys]

As Sondra slipped into the Chapel and said a few words in what he assumed to be her native language, the Symenestra briefly turned around. His amethyst eyes widened a fraction. He hadn’t met a lot of Konti yet, and there had only been one he had ever exchanged more than a couple of words with. Hellebore, his superior when he had still been working at the Purging, had kept a pet Konti. She had sometimes helped them out. He had admired her skill as a healer, but more than that he had feared her. It was said that Konti had the strangest abilities …

He averted his gaze again and focused his attention on the snow covered landscape outside the window again. She had likely not come here to be stared at, but to pray, and thus he wouldn’t bother her. He would stay in the background until one of the people that were sitting in the pews or the Chaplain himself had need of him.

As she said „petch me“, he arched an eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth twitched a little as if he were mildly amused. He had never heard such words from the mouth of a Konti. They stood in contrast to her appearance and were a little inappropriate considering the building they were in, but he chose not to comment on it.

Instead he simply shrugged his shoulders and calmy replied, „I am. But so are you. Mura is far from here. What brings a Konti to a place as remote as Denval?“

[Sondra]

Veldrys's reply edged into courtesy and the Konti briefly withdrew, momentarily surprised. Her lapse in suspicion didn't last long. Of course he was polite, how else would Symenestra worm into cities and charm naive daughters? Gods, people loved to believe that evil was misunderstood. They'd fall over themselves at the chance to say things weren't all bad. "Bad dreams. Good dreams." She thought briefly of fire and dark then amber eyes that forgave without asking. "May have tried to torch the city in some past life," she added bluntly. "A little less alarming than what compels your sort to travel." She came closer, her body leaning slightly forward in a posture of reigned aggression. Let him play the sweet acolyte all he liked, she wasn't going to relent because he gave her a proper salutation. "Why do they let you stay? What line of shyke did they swallow?" Her challenging nearness abated as she flopped in a bench near Veldrys. She cracked her fingers and rolled her wrists, hating what the cold did to the joints she had abused in barfights for so long. "Regale me. I've heard some creative bits of persuasion in my time. But I'd love to know what could work on this lot."

[Veldrys]

„Everybody seems to have dreams these days and comes here because of dreams“, the Symenestra remarked, recalling his own dreams, of a prophecy, a dying man and a stone that would change the fate of Denval. „I don’t think I’ve ever tried to torch anything though, in this life or a past life. It doesn’t do anything for me“, he added, wondering if she was serious. She was a strange one. Strange and very, very direct. He couldn’t remember Osakis ever acting like that and was at a bit of a loss as to how to deal with her.

„And what do you think compels my kind to travel?“ he asked, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about. The tone of his voice was still calm. „If I had planned on doing that, I wouldn‘t have gone to Denval. It’s a small city where people know each other, and you can only leave by ship. I’m not such a fool. I came here to gather knowledge, nothing more and nothing less. Besides, it tends to have a lasting effect on people if one of their patron gods marks you in front of the whole congregation and asks you to protect them. It’s hard to argue with a god.“

He shrugged his shoulders as if this was nothing special at all, as if she were not suspicious of him and they were just talking about the weather or some other boring, trivial topic. As she sat down near him though, he had to resist the temptation to make a step back, remembering what he had heard of her kind again.

„If this is shyke, then so be it.“

[Sondra]

Sondra grinned at the end of Veldry's explanation and lightly clapped her webbed hands together. "Well done. It seems you're a part of the scenery here now." The Konti folded her scaled arms over the back of the bench, twisting a bit to face him. Her charm and grace was on par with a turnip's. She sniffed, her nose a bit runny from the cold. Maybe a turnip level was being generous. "Better than I've ever managed to fit in, at least. Lucky you." Her bravado was born partially from the idea she was useless as a surrogate and she was mildly useful as a brawler. The grin diminished to a smirk as she continued. "Aren't you a calm one," she admired, "The lot of you like that? Or is it your piety that makes you at ease? I like calm, less energy for me to process." Her look turned quizzical, "Maybe it's a clean conscience and good intentions. But you know what they say about the road to Hai." She began to cast looks about the chapel. "So, who's it for? What god blessed you before Denval's people?"

[Veldrys]

„In a way I am“, he agreed as she stated that it seemed as if he were a part of the scenery now. He acted as if she had made a compliment, even if she had likely not meant it this way. He knew that she knew, at least more than the average Denvali seemed to know about his race. „The Denvali have accepted me for the most part. I’ve even found something like friends. There are the occasional people that disagree with me, but they usually keep quiet. As for you, you may still find that there is a place for you here …“

… if you manage to be a little more polite, he added in his thoughts. Gods, had there ever been a less charming Konti?

„Do you need a handkerchief?“ he asked politely. „Your nose is a bit runny.“

„Most Symenestra aren’t like me“, he continued. „I’m something of an oddity among my people, that’s why I’m here and not in Kalinor, doing whatever Symenestra usually do. I’ve always been like that, even before my god chose me. I’m glad that you like calm by the way. I’m not in the mood to be angry or frustrated at the moment and thus wouldn’t be able to accomodate you if you preferred such behaviour.“

„I don’t intend to walk the road to Hai“, he informed her. „At least not if I can help it. As for who blessed me, Viratas, the god of blood, although the Chapel is also dedicated to Aquiras. Do you know of him? Viratas? Who do your kind pray to?“

[Sondra]

Handkerchief? her expression seemed to reply, Wasn't that a sleeve's job? The Konti said nothing to the offer, only wrinkled her nose with another sniff. It remained to be seen whether she was being artfully odious or this was an organic effusion. She nodded slowly at the deities' names, letting her eyes roam for totems of the gods apparent in the chapel. The imagery of the divine had always drawn her. It was mortals fumbling for a way to rename and interpret powers that were eager to define themselves. "The names seem familiar," she said offhandedly, "But I'm not a student of them." When asked about the Konti gods, she stopped her roving glance. "Avalis, the all seeing mother, Laviku, the great father and tide bringer and Rak'keli the healing sister." Sondra managed some tone of ritual as she pronounced the ceremonial flourish of the gods of Mura. "Those are the gods of my race. I don't pray to the healing sister. Ivak has taken her place for me." She flashed a quick, crooked smile as she tugged her collar to show the blue flame that licked over her collarbone. The scales beneath the mark made it ripple with iridescence. "Dance with the ones who want to dance with you." She let go of her collar, covering the flame once again. "But I've heard marks are a dangerous thing in Denval." Her gaze had a little more force, but it wasn't agression that lent it weight. "Know anything about that?"

[Veldrys]

The Symenestra let out a sigh as she refused the handkerchief and continued to sniff instead. That behaviour rather reminded him of a child than a member of a race that was supposed to possess all kinds of wondrous abilities. His gaze rested on her for a moment, and then he shrugged his shoulders, deciding that it would be best to ignore her bad behaviour for now. Maybe she wasn’t doing it on purpose.

„Avalis and Laviku“, he repeated and nodded. His voice was still as calm as before. He hadn’t lost his patience yet. „I’ve heard of them. I’m most familiar with Rak’keli though. There are at least two men in this city that bear her marks. As a healer and a herbalist I’ve spent a certain amount of time in their company.“

His eyes widened as she mentioned who she prayed to. „You speak freely of your connection to the one that nearly destroyed the world“, he observed. „Are you not worried about people’s reactions?“ There was a hint of something different in the Symenestra’s voice now. He knew very little of Ivak and those that served him, but what he knew had given him little reason to trust them, even though he knew from personal experience thar prejudices weren’t always deserved.

„More than I want“, he murmurred as she asked him what he knew. He shuddered as he remembered what had happened when he had tasted Xelhes‘ blood. „I would advise against using your gnosis for the time being. The last time I tried to use my gnosis, I was so sick that I don’t remember anything of that evening. And some of my patients were worse off.“

[Sondra]

"Hmhph," she half grunted her understanding of Veldrys's pains. "Caelum had mentioned something about marks growing unwieldy. I don't need that one unless someone plans to set me on fire. In that case, I'll take my chances with the mark. As for Ivak's reputation…" Her mouth made variations of a frown, "Can't control that, but I don’t think it's all deserved." She thought of that odd little room in the Temple of All Gods with Leo, Glav and Terminus, when she felt on the precipice of worth. It had all gotten confused since then, layers of ash accumulating. Her voice broke in a laugh that almost called one to pity, "Or maybe I can't turn my back on someone who picked me up off of mine." Her sniffing had stopped finally. "Ivak and I go back a lifetime or two if dreams and omens are to be believed. And I am obligated as a Konti to think they have at least some merit." She turned her grin on Veldrys. It was a mismatched thing, too wide for her hard features. "I'll head out in a chime and stop torturing you." She rubbed her scaled hands, remembering fondly when someone else endeavored to do the same. The Konti could grow used to Denval's cold, if the company stayed. It was an old city, quiet and nestled against the mountains. It felt protected, a feeling she could scarce remember. Since Avanthal she had been a thin flag on a mast, raked by winds and rain. "It's just so damn cold and I've been cut off when it comes to funds for degtine."