Chapter Two – Part 7 – The Goddess
“So she is opposed not only to Kahlus, but to Rahrin as well?”
“Correct, young one. She played the two of them against each other when Maredran was born. Rahrin she pushed to build something of the limitless potential she and Kahlus had created. And to Kahlus she gave the challenge of unending watchfulness.”
“Leaving Rahrin feeling as if he is owed no thanks for our crafting, and Kahlus caring for children not wholly his own.”
“You see the world far more clearly than I did at your age, Rhayd.”
“I believe I am barely beginning to understand. Surely there must be some recourse for Kahlus and Rahrin against Nieri.”
“Yes. We are that recourse. In our crafting, a bargain was struck, under the watchful eye of the Grandfather. None of the divine may directly interfere in our nature, our doings, or our destiny. They can but provide some hints, some aid in the form of talent such as weaving – be it dweomercraft which is the realm of Jag Har’Oah, or negation which Rahrin controls, or others which have perhaps not yet been discovered. They can also nominate, in a limited way, those who are to become Empyrean, their agents upon Maredran, to act in concordance with their plans more directly than others.”
“And it is these Empyreans who bear names such as Melyr’Oah has taken for himself? The names of the messengers of the gods?”
“Again, yes. The Empyreans are often easily recognized. Their contact with the gods makes them otherworldly, they often have unnatural skin tones, hair colours, or eye colours. And, uniformly, they are among the most talented and puissant of all dweomercrafters, no matter which of the gods choose them as a messenger. The last known, more than a hundred years ago, was also the world’s most powerful recorded Arcessitor – a creator of new beings. We do not know of a correlation between talent and nomination as Empyrean, but there are trends in the records.”
Rhayd shook his head, brows knitting in a frown that was too persistent to school his face from betraying.
“Why are you telling me this, Curia? What are you directing my attention to?”
Thryche nodded slowly, turning his eyes to the ground for a moment. The churning of his thoughts was almost audible above the creaking of the boat and smacking of waves against the hull.
“We are entering a time of increased confusion, Rhayd. The knowledge I have is disappearing, one morsel at a time, because so few these days are being schooled in the methods and arts of the Curia. There is one at the schools – he will be your instructor, actually, as well as Kintere’s and Mireya’s. He is being groomed as the next Curia of the north. I can only hope he has enough time to take on the role, that the war does not prematurely end his training. He is young, for a Regulator, but especially talented, and not a reader of many books. You are, Rhayd, I know you study far beyond your scope, given the opportunity.”
Thryche looked at Rhayd, his eyes glazed with unshed tears, the hard light of a painful knowledge hiding behind them.
“My time is too short to remain and instruct a fledgeling Curia. I would like you to take the chance at Lockwood to learn every piece of knowledge that is available to you, and the amount will be significant. I would like you to learn, to become the studied one, the educated rogue. To step in behind Frost, and become his Arbiter. His second hand, the shield to his sword. And, in time, to return to Ckuien Penance at his side, and finish the work which I began there sixty years ago.”