The Spires Of Morning rose from the ground as would giant mountainous peaks to greet the dawn. Emalia and Colin stood on the stairs, Tamilyn having gone to quickly seek some sort of sale for some sort of item that Emalia nor Colin had some-sort-of seen. Emalia's heart grew so full at the mere sight of the temple, tears welled in her eyes as she stared upward. She was truly at a loss for what to do next. Even though going in (which Colin suggested) was the obvious choice, to whom would she go? She had set of on a journey with no idea of a destination other than the name of some far off temple.
Emalia had come to the realization that this would lead to the discovery of her own path and the directions to the Temple of Light, when a halfling boy bowed before her. Delighted at the little one, she bowed to him. Rose colored robes that were pleasant to the eye adorned him, though with his near 2-foot-tall stature, they seemed a little large. "Do you live here?" Emalia asked. She easily could have ascertained the information based on the myriad of beings clothed in similar garb, but for the sake of formalities, she obliged herself.
The halfling boy nodded and gestured to the temple, then to his obelisk. The answer was undeniable. "I'm looking for a place and need directions from someone. I thought I might find them here."
The boy wasted no time, drawing forth a pad of parchment and a quill. With practiced hand, he shot out a note, holding it to Emalia. It read, "What do you seek, Child?"
'Child?' Emalia thought. There were only two beings in the whole of the realms that referred to her as such. Jayden and Grobnak. It was a little disconcerting, but she pressed on, chalking the verbiage up to the fact that he was surrounded constantly with priests. "The Temple of Light. I am trying to find it, or even where to begin."
The quizzical gaze from the boy assured Emalia that she had mentioned a name unknown. The note shot up again, "There are many temples where you might seek Lathander's divine wisdom. Which one do you seek?" "I'm not really sure. I just know I need to get there."
At the sound of Colin's frustrated sigh, Emalia looked to him. Her attention went back to the small follower as another note was thrust into her line of sight. "The greatest temple of all lies within. Only by listening to The Voice within can one make such a journey." "What is 'The Voice?'"
Emalia was suddenly confused and rather embarrassed. She found herself biting her lip, as always, when she was on the verge of making some choice. In this instance, she was on the cusp of making for Westbridge to rethink her whole purpose, when another note was shown to her. "Do you seek renewal? Rebirth?" "Well, it is what The Apprentice would wish of me, isn't it?"
The boy, obviously knowing of whom she spoke, hastily penned another note: "I am here to guide you, but you must take the journey." "It is why I am here." "You," the next note read, "are not prepared."
From behind Emalia's shoulder, Colin's baritone voice offered up an objection. "Wait a minute... how is it you are here to guide her? How did you even know she would be here?"
A gaze clouded the young halfling's face as he pointed to a spot several feet from Emalia - clearly intimating that Colin was reading notes that were not meant for his eyes.
"I'm sure it was the doing of The Apprentice, Colin. He saved me in the ocean, too."
"Well, it was my thought that Tamilyn saved you. But at least she had a valid reason for knowing you would be there."
The boy pointed to the scars that ran over his face like a web and thrust a note toward Colin while Emalia stared to the ground. The two seemed to banter with one another, one using a voice, the other using a quill, both using swords. "A halfling that doesn't talk... that is your guide? Oh, no offense."
The halfling child held up another note, "He stands before you and blocks the way." Emalia glanced at Colin, obviously contemplating the same conclusion. She chewed at her lip nervously, and when the boy reached into his robe, Colin moved in front of her, putting his arm out protectively.
Emalia couldn't fathom what might have gotten into Colin. Here this hulking frame of a man had lept in front of her to protect her from a boy that seemed no more capable of harming a cat, let alone either of them. "He's a boy, Colin. He's obviously not going to hurt us."
As Colin lowered his arm, a note was thrust upward that both he and Emalia could see. "You have no Faith." "He doesn't need to believe as I do. I respect that." "See," Colin interjected, "and I respect her beliefs."
Without further baiting, the boy held up a note to only Emalia's eyes. As he held it up, he pointed to himself. "Nephesh." "I am Emalia, and this is Colin..." "This is ridiculous." Emalia watched as Colin threw his hands up and walked away. She lowered her eyes and looked back at the small boy.
"I'm sorry, perhaps the trip has him cranky. We did come a long way here, most of it he spent in the cargo hold. It's a long story." "He seeks to lead by following," Nephesh's note read. "No, that's not possible. He is only here by happenstance, nothing more." "It is your journey to make."
Emalia looked back at Colin, seeing him standing with his arms crossed, but much more composed. Was it possible that Colin had been sent as a test by The Apprentice to determine her Faith? Should she send him home? "What should I do?" "It is the path of a guide only to aid," the note detailed. "The journey is your own to make. Seek the wisdom of the Dawn." Nephesh looked at Colin for a moment and held up another note. "He needs to listen." Nodding, Emalia walked over to Colin and placed a hand on his arm. "Colin, do you think you could try, for me, to just... listen?" "I'm just wary of this person, that's all." "I'm not. You shouldn't be either." "I'm listening.. or reading, whatever."
Conceding that it was all she would be able to get, Emalia returned to Nephesh. The boy seemed to be somewhere else but before Emalia could question it, a sound like a thousand voices whispering in unison echoed in her mind. "YYOURRR FFAITHTHH ISS SSSTRONNNG, MMMORRTALL..." Emalia dropped to her knees, her hands reflexively going to her ears. She stared upward with reverent wonder on her face. Colin gripped her shoulders in worry, kneeling at her side, asking her what had happened - but Emalia only spoke, eyes welling with tears, that He had spoken to her. "Him."
Emalia rose to her feet, suddenly resolved to her course. She knew that she was meant to be here and knew there was a reason all these things were coming to pass. She knew most of all, what she was doing was right. Without any consultation with Colin, or any input from Tamilyn, Emalia agreed that they should stay in the Temple for the night.
Nephesh then offered a note to Colin which Emalia could see. "I can speak with the captains at port if you desire another cargo hold." At that moment, Emalia could see Colin's jaw tense. He looked in that instant that he was going to grab the tiny figure and dash the life from him. She could not explain it, and the fact was, Emalia had never seen the sort of anger that flashed over Colin like an arc of lightning.
Emalia watched contemplatively as Colin turned himself from the child. She looked back to see a note before her, "Your friend has no Faith. Those you once called kin know only Sin. Such is our path."
"Yes," Emalia began quietly, "I'm beginning to see that. I just wish he were different from all the rest. I would truly like to find a companion... but it looks ever more as though it is not to be."
With a reminder in the form of a note of her purpose for coming, Emalia took in her breath and buried her sorrows. It was time to let go of thoughts of companionship and love. For those things, she was fast deciding, never panned out. Faith, however, was going to find her a way on the path of life, and with or without anyone at her side - she was going to start walking.
The Master's Words
Nephesh awoke to the sound of scuffling feet. He'd overslept... again. Hadn't these humans ever heard of morning naps? They always wanted to wake at dawn and gather to worship. He understood the symbolic importance, but his body rebelled. It hadn't gotten any better during the past two winters, either. Why did they subject him to this torment?
Dragging himself from his bunk, the halfling boy lethargically donned the oversized pink robes the other priests had bequeathed him and joined the shuffle of feet to witness the rising sun. The sight filled him with awe, as it always did. The dramatic shapes of the clouds contrasting sharply with the colors of the dawn brought him - and all true Lathanderites - to his knees in worship. There were times he thought he could hear music when the day was still new.
He'd learned many things since Grobnak had sent him here. Once, he'd thought the orc a traitor to Jenova, but time had taught him differently. He missed the intelligence behind those eyes. Few could understand what drove that creature: Fear, Self-hatred, and a desire to become more than what he was. Nephesh was uncertain whether he should pity the beast or destroy it. The beast, however, had become his adoptive father... and liberator.
Time passed in meditation as Nephesh tended to the various chores he'd been assigned in the temple. It never ceased to amaze him how limited humans were: As a halfling, he could reach into smaller crevices than they. He got some of the more intriguing jobs as a result.
It was further into the day when he was called into the new Rector's personal study. He was expecting another reprimand from the old man for stealing something he hadn't - did everyone believe that that was the only thing halflings were good for? – but instead the old man had a message to deliver, in the form of an old scroll.
Nephesh stood by and silently listened to the aged priest prattle on about the destruction of the Realms and how the Jenovese were evil, and that it was against everything Lathander stood for, for nearly three hours before he was finally given the scroll containing his master's message. Gods, how he missed the kindly old woman who'd run the temple before; at least she had been one of the Faithful.
Unrolling the gilded vellum, Nephesh's brown eyes raced over Grobnak's hastily jotted script. It seemed a simple enough task: keep her on the path and beware the strangers she traveled with. Walking over to a censer, Nephesh threw the scroll into it, observing the cloud which suddenly billowed forth - in the likeness of the girl he sought: Emalia.
Dragging himself from his bunk, the halfling boy lethargically donned the oversized pink robes the other priests had bequeathed him and joined the shuffle of feet to witness the rising sun. The sight filled him with awe, as it always did. The dramatic shapes of the clouds contrasting sharply with the colors of the dawn brought him - and all true Lathanderites - to his knees in worship. There were times he thought he could hear music when the day was still new.
He'd learned many things since Grobnak had sent him here. Once, he'd thought the orc a traitor to Jenova, but time had taught him differently. He missed the intelligence behind those eyes. Few could understand what drove that creature: Fear, Self-hatred, and a desire to become more than what he was. Nephesh was uncertain whether he should pity the beast or destroy it. The beast, however, had become his adoptive father... and liberator.
Time passed in meditation as Nephesh tended to the various chores he'd been assigned in the temple. It never ceased to amaze him how limited humans were: As a halfling, he could reach into smaller crevices than they. He got some of the more intriguing jobs as a result.
It was further into the day when he was called into the new Rector's personal study. He was expecting another reprimand from the old man for stealing something he hadn't - did everyone believe that that was the only thing halflings were good for? – but instead the old man had a message to deliver, in the form of an old scroll.
Nephesh stood by and silently listened to the aged priest prattle on about the destruction of the Realms and how the Jenovese were evil, and that it was against everything Lathander stood for, for nearly three hours before he was finally given the scroll containing his master's message. Gods, how he missed the kindly old woman who'd run the temple before; at least she had been one of the Faithful.
Unrolling the gilded vellum, Nephesh's brown eyes raced over Grobnak's hastily jotted script. It seemed a simple enough task: keep her on the path and beware the strangers she traveled with. Walking over to a censer, Nephesh threw the scroll into it, observing the cloud which suddenly billowed forth - in the likeness of the girl he sought: Emalia.
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