Chapitre 3: Chapter 3: Another Will Come

Sorin felt her as a warmth, a pulsing, in his chest. He could sense in that warmth Her emotions and wants. The other paladins felt the same, but to a lesser degree. Priests could hear Herwhispers, snatches of things, never completely clear, but enough to convey her wishes. Angelos, of course, heard Her most clearly of all.

Angelos frowned in concentration, and then extended his other hand. Sorin placed his own in it, unperturbed by the suddenly tight, almost painful grip. Angelos' eyes slid shut, and for several minutes there was only silence.

As abruptly as he had gone into his trance, Angelos was out of it. His eyes held swirls of violet as they opened, the color of the Goddess, before slowly fading back to their normal soft brown. Sorin knew that in the heat of battle, when his power raged, his own eyes did the same thing.

"The mystery is not one you can solve," Angelos said. "From Her, I get that another will come who can help to provide the answer. But " he frowned. "I sense something dark, something strange." His eyes met Sorin's. "Somehow, this thingthis personis bound to you, High Paladin. It will not be you, or he, who will uncover Alfrey's killer. It will take the both of you."

Sorin frowned. "I do not understand."

"Neither do I," Angelos said ruefully. "But then, those of us who most directly serve Her are usually the last to understand anything."

To that, Sorin could only nod in agreement and smile faintly at the pulse of amusement in his chest. "So I do nothing until this person arrives. The body " He swallowed and it was his turn to grip Angelos' hand too tightly. "I cannot simply leave him like that."

"I think that you must," Angelos said gently. Standing up, he moved around his desk and pulled Sorin into a tight embrace. "I am sorry, Sorin. I know how close the two of you were."

Sorin clung to him, finally allowing himself to feel the grief he'd been holding back. Alfrey. They'd grown up together, more like brothers than cousins. They'd entered the priesthood together. It had been Alfrey who'd pushed him to try for the knights instead, and Alfrey who had been the only one not at all surprised when Sorin had become first a paladin, and then High Paladin. "Why?" Sorin asked, wiping away tears. He was soothed by Angelos and the reassuring warmth of the Goddess pulsing in his chest. "Why would anyone murder Alfrey? I need to know." His mind began to race, pushing the grief away enough to be managed, intent upon finding a source, someone to make pay, and Angelos' words came back to him. "Who is going to help me? You said black magic was in it?"

Angelos shook his head. "I know only what I told you. I sense She does not want us to know much. Ignorance, sometimes, is useful: it prevents us from making assumptions. If you want to get started, try examining his room. Surely there must be something there; such an horrific murder would leave behind some clue."

Nodding, Sorin said, "Yes. Thank you."

Reaching out, Angelos cupped Sorin's face and wiped the traces of tears away with his thumbs. "Be strong, High Paladin. The Goddess will not let this tragedy go unpunished, and she will not let his death be a waste."

"Neither will I," Sorin said roughly. "Thank you, High Priest. I I will be back." Breaking away, he turned and left the room.

Sorin strode from the cathedral, not knowing where he was going until he found himself in the stables. He waited impatiently until a stable hand presented him with the reins to his horse. "I'll return by nightfall," he said shortly. "Light the signal should I be needed sooner."

A full mark's journey found him in his secret retreat in the Black Forest, a place he wished he visited more often, but simply could not due to its distance and his importance at the castle. Dismounting, he let his horse wander as it chose and walked over to the massive oak tree in the center of the small clearing. He did not know how old it was, but he sensed sometimes that it must be the oldest tree in the forest, or very nearly. He'd come across the small clearing by chance, several years ago, not long after he had first been made a paladin.

Legend held that the Royal Castle had once stood in the area, the stronghold of the Holy Kingdom of the Goddessbut then civil war had come, and the kingdom had split into two, and then three, and the old castle destroyed in the feuding. Hundreds of people had searched and searched for the lost castle, but their efforts had always been in vain. If the castle had existed, which Sorin doubted, all remainders of it had long since been eradicated by the Black Forest. Only the trees and the Goddess knew where it might have once stood.

Sorin had never much cared; his little clearing was all that mattered to him. There was something about it, something he could never place, but the pulsing in his chest always radiated warmth and sadness, a twisting, bittersweet ache that told him the Goddess held the place dear.

The clearing was not much in the end, but he was fond of it. A shallow little brook ran mere steps away from the oak, while the rest of the clearing was all grass and wildflowers. In a few more decades, Sorin suspected that the trees would consume what remained of the clearing.

He sat with his back against the trunk of the oak and propped his arms on one bent knee, his mind returning once more to that bloodied room. Why Alfrey? He had been destined for the priesthood since the day he was born and some said he would someday succeed the high priest. Alfrey had never harmed anyone in life, so why?

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