Chapter 45 Eder
EDER
E der ascended the platform built in the heart of Racliffe.
The wood groaned underneath his feet, barely audible over the hum of the crowd.
Thousands of people were in attendance, filling the U-shaped curve of the street around the platform.
Banners bearing the five stars of the Astral Kingdom fluttered from corner posts.
He wore his finest black robe, its belt, tassels, and the jewelry around his wrists and neck all gleaming silver.
Celebrant Madeleine, who followed two steps behind him, was dressed in a similar color, though in her fine suit instead.
“General Sid’s return from Twin Gates has done little to improve unrest,” she said as they both stepped out onto the platform a good twenty feet in the air.
“And the austerity measures you are about to announce will harm morale further. Are you so certain Queen Isabelle’s army will assault Racliffe?
At the least, we could wait until we have confirmation they are on their way.
She may choose to claim Edelnoth or Wystra first, or establish supply lines through Nature’s Path. ”
“Is now truly the time to discuss such matters?” Eder asked, and he tilted his head toward the crowd.
Madeleine blushed and crossed her arms behind her. Her gaze shifted to her feet.
“Forgive me, Luminary. I have wished to share this advice but was hesitant. Now is the final time I may do so before you announce these measures to the people.”
Eder used the tip of his finger to gently lift her chin.
“I chose you to be my Celebrant for a reason,” he said. “Never doubt yourself, for even if you are wrong, the arguments you give may open my eyes to other possibilities I failed to consider.”
“Y-yes, Luminary,” she said. Her lips trembled as he lifted the finger from her chin to trace a line across her cheek.
“But in this, I hold no doubt,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “I know those who are guiding Isabelle’s conquest. They come for me, and will do so with confidence in their assured victory. And so we prepare ourselves.”
Eder walked to the edge of the platform and looked out upon the city.
His city, captured heart and soul over the course of two human lifetimes.
For so long, he had preached in the streets as Helal, later dubbed Helal Gracegiver by the people.
He had worked his miracles and endured the angry words of Leliel’s priests and priestesses, and then, later, their violence.
He had planted a thousand seeds and then departed to the wilderness.
A decade later, he cut his lengthy hair and returned as his supposed son, Mitra, to assume the mantle taken up by scattered disciples and worshipers clinging to their faith despite Leliel’s persecution.
The Church of Stars was born in the ashes of a fiery purge of Leliel’s temples.
The petty king of Racliffe, then a powerful city-state, was all too eager to anoint Eder with control to spare himself a similar fate.
In return, Eder granted radiance to his most ardent followers, and with their power, and the promise of healing, the church spread like wildfire. With it grew Eder’s influence. The city-state became a kingdom, and Eder became a conqueror.
“Blessed of Kaus,” Eder said, projecting his voice with a flash of radiance.
He need not hide his gifts when addressing the public.
He was not like his brothers, pretending to be mere humans.
He was the Luminary, chosen of Father. Let all hear his words.
“I come now to grant you comfort in these final hours before war arrives at our gates.”
The crowd fell silent. All would listen. All would remember. His silver tongue would make sure of that. Meanwhile, a line of shepherds surrounded his platform, and they lifted their staffs and their jars of insects, casting a mesmerizing golden glow upon the crowd.
“In spreading the true faith, we have ever faced adversity,” Eder continued.
“We have endured the barbed words of unbelievers. We have fought invaders of sinful nations. We have sunken the boats of heathen pillagers who worship wealth and flesh over righteousness. Now we face our greatest test. The combined might of the false goddess approaches our fair walls. It is the final gasp of a dying animal. You will hear many rumors. Believe none of them. You will hear fearful lies, and claims from spies who slip through our walls. Dismiss them without hesitation. Hold faith in our Father, and hold faith in his chosen Luminary.”
Eder clutched his hands together. They would need a sign.
Something to whisper to those not in attendance.
Something to cling to when Faron and Sariel’s army arrived and food and water grew scarce.
Eder let the whispered words of Father echo in his mind, and he answered them with a sudden burst of movement.
His hands flung wide, and he screamed to the heavens.
“And when we are victorious, we will shout our glory to the stars, and pierce the heavens with our joy!”
Silver light flared from every inch of his skin. Stars rose from his fingertips, sparkling and wondrous.
“We are here! Joyful! Triumphant! Hold nothing back, my faithful, my children. Let our love be so fierce, and so bright, Father can see it from the very heavens!”
The stars gathered, pulsed, and then exploded in all directions, blanketing the city with light. Eder stood within its center, his head tilted, smiling, as they slowly scattered into sparkling dust. Tears trickled down his face.
“We are here,” he prayed. “Right here. One day, you will see.”
He took in a deep breath to recover himself, and he looked to the crowd. Their loving expressions gave him the strength to continue. Their…
He froze. Among them, a face he knew so well, watching near the front. Their eyes met despite the distance.
“Madeleine,” he said, and gestured her to his side.
And then, louder, for the crowd. “My Celebrant will detail the measures we must take in anticipation of the coming war. Listen to her, as well as the orders shared by my shepherds in these troubling days. Fare you well, my people, and may Father forever hold you in his gaze.”
Madeleine shot him a confused look, but he ignored it.
He had planned to announce the austerity measures himself, but now he had a far more important matter to attend to.
He dashed down the steps, then curled around the platform to the line of shepherds organizing the crowd. He pointed as he approached.
“Let her through.”
Aylah stepped past, her head held high despite her plain dress and lack of jewelry and other adornments. A few in the crowd muttered their confusion or jealousy, but Eder spared them little thought. Nothing could stop the joy swelling in his heart.
“Aylah,” he said, fighting to remain formal before her. She showed little struggle to do the same. Ah, Aylah, ever the proper and noble sister.
“Well met, Mitra ,” she said, amusement sparkling in her silver eyes.
Eder laughed.
“This way,” he said, guiding her away from the crowd.
The moment they were out of sight, he spun about and closed the distance between them. She offered her hands to him, and he took them, cradling her fingers as he pressed his forehead to hers.
“I have missed you,” he said. “How long has it been? Fifteen years? Twenty?”
“Too long,” she said. “And I see you have done much during my imprisonment.”
The smile slowly faded from Eder’s face. “Your imprisonment?”
She stepped back and pulled her hands free of his touch.
“Thirty years of it, Eder, and at the hands of humans.”
Eder swallowed down a sudden burst of rage deep within his chest.
“Come to the Tower Majestic,” he said. “And please, tell me everything.”
Aylah recounted her story as they crossed through Bridgetop.
Eder listened with ever-growing horror, horror made worse by the emotionless, factual nature of her telling.
As if the chaining, bleeding, and killing had happened to another person, not her.
Eder held his tongue all the while, letting her tell the tale in full, until it ended with Sariel and Faron rescuing her from her imprisonment.
Regardless of the watching eyes, Eder turned to her and took her hands in his.
“Please, forgive me, Aylah,” he said. “With your vows, I knew you could not grant me your aid. When you did not interfere, I thought it meant you approved of what I built or, at the least, were willing to wait to pass judgment.”
He stepped closer, guilt clawing at his mind.
“If I had known you were missing, or worse, imprisoned, I’d have torn apart all the world to find you. Calluna, she told me only that you were hidden, somewhere dark, and I thought… I thought she was lying to me, Aylah. Lying to protect your privacy.”
It would be a scandal, Eder knew. An unknown, plain-clothed woman receiving the affection of the Luminary, but he did not care. He wrapped his arms about his sister, needing to hold her, to beg for her mercy.
“Please, Aylah, forgive me. Damn my church, and my kingdom. I should have been there for you.”
She pushed him away and smiled as if he were being childish.
“Always with the grand gestures,” she said. “But I hold no ill will toward you, Eder. That’s not why I am here.”
“Then why?” he asked, leading them once more to the tower’s entrance. He let the rest of the question go unspoken. Why here, and not fighting alongside Faron and Sariel?
“I am here,” she said, and then hesitated as they passed through a crowd of folks bartering with a shopkeeper over his suddenly price-hiked bread.
Even though Madeleine was just now detailing the austerity measures, rumors had floated about them for days.
“I am here because when I was freed, I heard all about this church you had founded, and this kingdom you built.”