Chapter 77. The Letter

shahla stood in her humble room, pacing for a time as she considered the choice that lay before her.  She had served the Order flawlessly for nearly a decade and loved her brothers and sisters with the calm unwavering devotion she had for her kin.  Their work was vital, it was her life, and the very life of Elona depended upon it.

She stood now at the balcony gazing down upon the sacred falls and watching the waters churn and dance with rainbow brilliance over the ancient stone.  Beneath the falls lay the cave of the Oracle and the hallowed seat was filled once more.  She had been granted the privilege of going before him into that holiest of places.  So beautiful and magnificent he had seemed arrayed upon the ancient throne in his robes, the serene visage of his mask gleaming in the shivering light of the rush lamps and the dazzling reflection of the shimmering pool.  He had seemed like a god newly come among them to sleep a while before forging a new creation.

Already he had made an immense contribution to their work, alerting them to the movements of demons and soldiers so that they could evacuate villages before an impending massacre or strike swiftly at enemy scouts.  The gods had indeed blessed them to send one so gifted with their light in their time of greatest need.

Why then did she feel such guilt?

Praying softly under her breath for guidance, she clutched the scroll that Zhou had entrusted to her, the one intended for Pendaran Caradec.  She glanced at the tidy writing, feeling a voyeur for glimpsing this part of the man’s secret life. 

They had to protect the Oracle at all costs; he was far too valuable to her land and people.

“I’m sorry, Master Bei,” she breathed softly.  Turning from the balcony, she approached the brazier that burned softly in the corner of the room and cast the parchment into the flames.