“I never really thought of all the things a saint would have to be doing behind the scenes before,” Teragdor said.
“I don’t believe anyone does until they get to saint school.” Stevos chuckled. “As mortals, we all have these grandiose ideas of what it means to be an avatar of Tiernon. It seems so glamorous, glorious, triumphant, being an inspiration and leading the Forces of Good into battle against Evil.” The saint shook his head. “No one ever stops to think about the administrative overhead, the day-to-day grind of ensuring that Tiernon’s glory, light and justice are deployed properly day in and day out.”
Teragdor laughed. “My mentor once said nearly the same thing about being a priest!”
Stevos grinned, nodding. “It’s just the next rung up on the Holy Ladder of Success!”
Hilda tried to calm her breathing and still her heart rate. She was afraid her stomach was going to twist itself into knots. Beragamos had escorted her to the Hall of Justice and into an anteroom. When she asked when they would be going in, he’d nearly floored her by smiling and telling her that only she would be going in — it was a private audience.
Hilda’s stomach had gone through the floor, and she was now desperately wishing she had a bottle of wine. Although maybe going before one’s all-powerful deity sloshed to the nines might not be the best idea, she thought. She shook her head to try and clear it. She then tried again to meditate to regain her composure, but that wasn’t working.
Beragamos had left her alone in the waiting room about a quarter of an hour ago. He had told her that they’d arrived early so that she would have some time to compose herself. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand in support, sensing and probably anticipating her nervousness.
She released a deep breath, trying to reassure herself that everything was fine and it was perfectly reasonable to be nervous about meeting one of the primal forces of the multiverse. A being whose very existence was a pillar of reality, providing shelter and protection to the weak against the vast powers of darkness. She let out another deep breath, finally starting to relax. It was all about setting up a realistic perspective.
The door to the next room opened gently and a man in his mid to late thirties with closely cropped dark hair, wearing an elegant tunic and breeches with a truly magnificent belt and buckle at the waist, peered out.
“Hilda?” the man asked.
Hilda stood and nodded, approaching the door. The man offered his hand in greeting and Hilda smiled, accepting it. She was having trouble even speaking to the Attendant.
As their hands touched, Hilda nearly passed out. A rush of light, energy, joy, strength and love came flowing through the handshake and into her being, nearly overwhelming her. This was no Attendant; this was Tiernon himself!
She gasped, her knees beginning to buckle. Tiernon quickly reached around and took her by her shoulders. His gentle strength easily supported her weight — not what it was in her youth.
“There, just relax. It’s fine.” Tiernon chuckled reassuringly. “Oddly enough, you are not the first one to have that reaction to my handshake.” He smiled at her and it was as if fierdlight were filling her soul. She glanced up into his infinitely black eyes and… the world wheeled away, blackness and then stars, lights, colors… eternity…
The next thing Hilda knew, she was sitting in a very nice armchair in front of a large mahogany desk in a finely appointed room. She had no idea how she got there.
“My apologies. I forgot to shift my eyes to my mortal form,” he shook his head as if admonishing himself for his mistake. “I had just come from the Palaestra and failed to fully shift.”
“Your godliness,” Hilda said and started to slide out of the chair to her knees.
Tiernon gave her a sharp glance and motioned her back into her chair. “None of that now! We are in private; that kneeling and worshipful rigmarole is appropriate for public ceremonies and appearances, but very tiring for a private conversation.” The god smiled as Hilda slid herself back into her chair.
“As your godliness wishes,” Hilda respectfully replied.
Tiernon smiled at her as he reached down into a desk drawer and pulled out a rather large file folder and set it on his desk. Hilda blinked, wondering if those were her reports. They must be. Tiernon then reached back in and pulled out a crystal ball. The scrying?
“I have to say, Beragamos and the others have been very impressed with your work on this incident — or should I say, series of incidents,” Tiernon said. “And reading your reports, so am I.”
Hilda was still somewhat in shock, but she managed to nod her thanks while replying, “I am honored, Your Godliness.”
Tiernon opened the file and slid up to the desk. “I have reviewed your reports, along with those of Beragamos, Moradel, Sentir Fallon and Stevos.” Hilda nodded. “In particular, I find many of your side findings to be quite interesting.”
“Side findings, Your Godliness?” Hilda asked.
“In particular, the behavior of the Church and the Rod in the battle between Talarius and the demon. I agree with you that these are serious breaches of our doctrine,” Tiernon said.
“That was my thought, Your Godliness,” Hilda agreed.
Tiernon nodded. “I thought we would watch the balling of the incident together and perhaps stop at various points so that I might get your observations on the events, and the actions of our followers. And of course, we will also discuss how this demon did what he did. Which, as you know, is a very grave concern.”
“That sounds very good, Your Godliness,” Hilda replied.
“Excellent!” Tiernon waved his hand as the room dimmed and the balling sprang to life between them.
Hilda closed the door to her apartment and leaned against it in exhaustion. Good exhaustion, and exhilaration! She glanced at the clock in her living room and shook her head. She had been with Tiernon for six hours! They had gone through the balling, the actions of the demon, the Rod, and the Church in detail. He had been particularly interested in the destruction of Excrathadorus Mortis. Tiernon had been quite curious as to how it had made its way from Etterdam to Astlan. Unfortunately, Hilda had no idea, but suggested that perhaps Sentir Fallon might know, since it had originally been his blade. Tiernon had nodded and agreed before moving on to Ruiden and its more-than-odd abilities and behavior.
The god had then asked for details about Freehold, the Council, Lenamare, Jehenna, Exador and the others, including Trisfelt. After they had exhausted nearly every aspect on the issue of the mana-draining incident, they’d moved on to the D’Orcs and orcs. Interestingly enough, the god seemed just as interested in the actions of the Nimbus and her crew as he did the D’Orcs.
This seemed a bit odd, given that the Grove was aligned with the alfar and thus generally considered one of the Forces of Good; whereas the orcs — and, she supposed, D’Orcs — were clearly part of the Forces of Evil. In fact, Tiernon was particularly interested in the actions of the alfar. Surely, if the alfar were preparing for war, they’d be contacting other Forces of Good?
More expectedly, he had queried her a great deal about what she had discovered regarding the D’Orcs and what they had told the orcs and others in Murgatroy. Tiernon had very clearly read every one of her reports and seemed to have nearly memorized them. The detail to which he quizzed her, and his familiarity with so much of it, was breathtaking.