For the word will not be denied. It shall persist. And it shall always be.

Book of Earoni 15:2

The smell of squalor and poverty consumed Daphney's senses. With a heavy sigh, she emerged from the plain house of straw and mud bricks between wood studs into the waterlogged streets of the modest village of Kannas.

"It went that well?" A man replied from where he leaned near the door.  He'd been assigned personally by Rwan to be an ever watchful shadow to the cleric, although he looked like he should be stealing money from widows in the market rather than a acting as a bodyguard.

Daphney cast her eyes to the dreary and overcast sky. "You couldn't hear?"

"Every word." He laughed. "I think they heard Ubuer Yawin's bloviating boasts in the next village over."

"He wanted assurances that I'm not willing to commit to. And even more that I simply cannot give." She felt dirty. Not just physically from the inevitable conditions following a heavy summer rain, but also from dealing with an insufferable blowhard like Ubuer. The increased volume of his voice was still quite easy to distinguish. Even though she had left him and the ongoing conference, Daphney could hear the continued ranting that emanated from his mouth. "I think more than anything it upset him that he had spent the day talking to me and not Rwan."

"He never liked Rwan. Definitely didn't vote for him. And he does understand that Rwan is about two steps beyond death's door already. Doesn't he?"

"Please don't talk like that, Kilan. I tried to explain the situation to him." Daphney turned to look back inside the meager home. but she couldn't see too much. Ubuer was there, this arms covered in jagged scars gesticulating while he shouted at one of his aides, and then another. There was a silent man standing away from the fray sporting a short-cropped beard and wearing fairly common garb except for one peculiar thing.

What stood out about him was the battered breastplate he wore. It seemed ancient. The symbol of the eagle over the inverted triangle was still predominant, even under years upon years of rust. And he hadn't said a single word over the course of the hours the meeting droned on. He just stood there like a sentinel, but one guarding nothing at all.

The overriding need to get away from the whole mess this day had become forced Daphney's legs to begin propelling her down the street. As she walked, her feet stuck, sucked, and sloshed in mud, the hem of her robes long since white.

Kilan matched her pace. "I liked the ultimatum you gave him."

Ultimatum? Daphney trembled at hearing that word. "Wasn't meant to come off that way."

The bodyguard waved a dismissive hand. "It was perfect. Basically, get with the program, be a team player, or we'll stop requesting equipment for your troops from what remains of the supply chain." That was followed with a sigh. "Losing Tuske is going to hurt for a while. Myson and his guys were efficient at producing quality steel and on schedule. A bit of advice, Miss Crenst. If I may?"

He always called her Miss Crenst. Daphney still hadn't decided how she felt about that. It certainly wasn't as formal as what most others referred to her. Usually it was something such as "Revered Cleric", "Exalted Healer," or some other overblown superlative language that made her blood curdle. Sometimes she just missed how both Rwan and Anthony would simply address her by her name.

Daphney decided Kilan's words required a response, so she smiled a little. "You may."

"You've got to get over this desire to be the Mrs. Nice Guy all the time." Kilan pulled out a very slim blade that hung opposite his sword and began picking dried dirt from under his fingernails as they continued to move on. "Look. Miss Crenst, I know why you feel you have to be that way."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's in your blood." Finishing with his task and the knife, he returned it to his belt. "That's the kind of person you are. Sweet. Caring. Helpful. But sometimes you've got to crack some skulls. Some people won't respond to you unless you do. People like Ubuer."

"Don't you know the old saying? You catch more flies with sugar than vinegar? I'm not really much of the skull cracking type." Daphney had to widen her smile at just the thought of it though.

Her shadow didn't let the opportunity slip by. "You don't have to be. Just have to have people around you who are willing to do it for you."

"People like you?" she asked.

"Well," Kilan admitted. "Rwan certainly doesn't keep me around because I'm good at picking out his clothes or decorating the inside of his tent. He keeps me around because I take care of the things. Not because he can't. But because he's the leader of this Rebellion. And a leader has to maintain a certain air of formality. Flies are meant to be swatted, not captured."

Daphney slowed her pace until she stopped. Standing in the intersection of the village's only two roads, she realized how deserted the town was despite it being late in the afternoon. "Somehow, I suspect I don't want to know what you've done for him." Then she changed the subject. "Where is everyone? The only people we've seen have been Ubuer and his cronies." She expected there to be at least some townsfolk about, even with the less than ideal weather. It wasn't like there weren't things that needed tended to.

"You noticed that too?" Kilan's more observant eyes recognized the shadowy forms that watched from behind shuttered windows. "My guess is Ubuer doesn't want any of his folk fawning over you. He's trying to keep them away from you. If they see you for what you are, his power is diminished."

"And what am I?" At her feet, a kitten purred. It buried its head in the folds of her robes, smearing mud from its fur around the fabric. Daphney bent down, gathered up the gentle creature in her arms and stroked its gray coat. It meowed and Daphney detected the hunger in the kitten's rumbling stomach. This creature was not wild, but domesticated.

"Come on, Miss Crenst. You're the first known true healer in centuries. Ever since Lord Hedric wiped the priests out when they wouldn't give him the Tear of Earoni."

Eyes closed, Daphney wondered if that was really correct. It seemed odd to her that the world had been devoid of something that was once so common for so long. Maybe there had been others, but they'd just remained hidden. "Earoni, take of my body to ease the hunger of this poor creature." With her muttered prayer, a warmth engulfed her, and she sensed the kitten's appetite subside. Daphney returned the animal to the ground with gentle care.

At that moment, a young girl burst out of one of the mud homes and raced over to ensnare the kitten. At first she didn't say anything, only petting the animal as Daphney stood there and watched the two interact. Based on the affection the animal showed for this child, she assumed that it must have belonged to her.

"Thank you, lady." The girl eventually said, but continued to show a predominant interest in her pet. "We haven't had any money to buy food for Dusty. Dusty's not much of a hunter."

As she knelt down to address the child, Daphney put her hand between the kitten's ears for a gentle scratch. "As long as you show Dusty love, I am sure he will always stand by you. Just like when we love Earoni and she protects us."

"She," the girl said. "Dusty's a she."

"Sorry, my mistake." Her apology was part serious and half joking. She then touched the girl on her forehead. "May the Greater Goddess look after you." The child flinched as a slight spark jumped from Daphney's fingers to her skin, but she did not shy away.

"You sound like Trast," the girl said.

"Trast?"

"Yes, he's always preaching to us about the Goddess. Says she'll protect us."

"Ain't no Greater Goddess around here." The barking rebuke came from Ubuer Yawin himself, a man who looked like his daily routine consisted of hauling bales or barrels of something heavy from sunup to sundown. "Or anywhere. Go inside, Cammy. Take Dusty with you."

At Ubuer's side stood that silent soldier who had been present in their meeting all day long with the worn breastplate. He still said nothing. While the man seemed poised to back up the words from Clan Chuelutic's leader, there was a distinct expression of unwilling compliance within the lines of his face.

The girl listened, but looked back at Daphney with a grin as she complied. In the doorway of her home, a woman ushered her inside and shut the door.

Daphney rose up, intent on discussing the comments Ubuer had made, but Kilan had already stepped between them. Her escort was a few inches shorter than him, but while Kilan might not have been as physically imposing, his demeanor emanated enough of a sense of foreboding that most people wouldn't mess with him. The problem was, Ubuer didn't fall into the category of 'most people'.

"We don't need either of you here." The leader of Clan Chuelutic folded his arms.

Kilian smirked. "Buddy, back off. I don't want to have to hurt you."

Daphney took the opportunity of the two posturing and quarreling men to place herself between them. "Kilan, stand down." She had to put a firm hand on his chest to earn his compliance, although his muscles were so tense she could tell her guardian was ready to spring. Then she turned her attention to the man she had spent the entire day trying to win over. While Kilan was only slightly smaller than Ubuer, Daphney was down right diminutive. "I've already told you, we're not here to cause trouble."

At that moment, Daphney took account of her surroundings. Members of this small farming community had begun emerging and stared at her.

Ubuer also noticed the crowd. "Nothing to see here, folks. These two were just leaving."

Daphney decided, in that moment, to address the gathering, but tepid crowd with a direct appeal since her host was still being pig-headed. She stepped around him. "We are all Earoni's children. If we stand together and place our trust with She that is The Almighty, Hitithe can rise once more." Silence greeted her plea.

Ubuer laughed. "See? They know that the Rebellion is feckless. What has it accomplished? What progress under Rwan's tenure can we point to and see success?"

Daphney lashed out with uncommon anger. "Why are you so unwill-"

"Why?" The voice of Clan Chuelutic's leader roared. "Why? Clan Chuelutic has been blamed for many of the troubles that have befallen the Rebellion over the past twenty years. Our brothers and sisters have been charged with treachery and deceit! Members of this faction have been vilified as responsible for the murder of King Turon's Ambassador to the Elven Kingdoms and his family almost two decades ago!"

Someone shouted, "Lies!"

"Yes, lies! But we have been treated worse than a lame hound since then; ignored and deprived a seat at the table. Given scraps and leftovers. But still expected pull more than our fair share of weight in the war against Lord Hedric."

The man dressed in the breastplate behind him finally spoke up, although very softly. "Ubuer, perhaps we should reconsider."

"Shut up!" Ubuer barked back. "I did not ask for your opinion, Trast."

Trast? Daphney remember that name as the one the girl had mentioned. Someone who preached the word of the Greater Goddess she said.

Daphney's escort reached out to take her arm. "Miss Crenst, let's go. We cannot reason with these people."

"I do not wish to abandon them." Daphney pulled away.

"Listen to Rwan's lackey, girl." Ubuer chuckled. "Best you be on your way."

Kilan turned to Ubuer, a simmering rage coming to a boil at those words. "I'm nobody's lackey." Both men drew swords with mirrored motions. "Oh, I don't think you really want to go down this path, Ubuer. Put the sword down."

"No." Daphney placed her hands on Kilan, trying to get him to listen. "Rwan has fought to keep the Rebellion together. This is not how we should repay his hard work. Not with bloodshed amongst ourselves."

The brute standing opposite Kilan addressed those words. "Sad thing is, bloodshed is about the only way to get things done. You wouldn't know much about that, girl."

She eyed Ubuer up and down, a burgeoning defiance stacked upon annoyance finding its way into her voice. "I will not allow some- some- ruffian to shatter the legacy of our ancestors."

"You're out of place, girl!" Ubuer brandished his sword more forcefully.

Kilan did the same as he took a renewed position between her and this latest threat.

"Ubuer!" The man he had referred to as Trast now put himself before Ubuer and Kilan as well. "Enough! We are all Hitithian. Fighting like this solves nothing."

"You arrogant, pious bastard." Ubuer shoved Trast aside, his irritation consuming him. "You're worthless. Look at you! You walk around wearing that armor as if it means something. All it is is a relic of a long since toppled dream, overly glorified in song and legend. I've tolerated you filling the heads of our people with all that nonsense for too long. And why? Because you're my half-brother? You wouldn't even be alive if Father could have kept his prick in his pants."

"Do not bring Father-"

Kilan took advantage of Ubuer being distracted and went for him. Not with his sword, however, but a strong right hook across his chin that staggered the big man and sent him to the ground without his weapon. The action caught both brothers off guard.

"You really are a fool!" Kilan stood over the now laid out beast of a man, his sword to his throat, making him think twice about any attempts to move. "And an easily overcome fool at that."

"Trast!" Uber called to his brother. "Do something!"

Trast was too stunned to act, frozen between wanting to help his brother and letting the chips fall where they may. Daphney once more went to Kilan, again putting her hands on him to try to back him down. As she did, and he took his eyes off Ubuer for a split second, his once subdued foe reclaimed the advantage, planting a foot squarely to Kilan's groin and toppling him. His own sword recovered, Ubuer reached out and grabbed hold of Daphney, bringing the cleric to him while Kilan curled up and groaned on the ground.

"I'm not going to ask again." Ubuer growled at her. "I think it's time for both of you to leave."

"Ubuer. Brother." Trast started to approach him. "Remember what happened to the tax collector who placed hands upon one of Earoni's priests in the course of his work? Remember?"

"Do you think I pay attention to your ridiculous sermons?"

But Daphney knew this story well. A priest had given his coat to a pauper begging for change in the market. When the tax collector saw this, he immediately tried to collect the half-copper tariff to be levied on all clothing sold in the marketplace. But the priest had not sold the cloak. Rather, he had given it to the man out of compassion. Still, the tax collector persisted. And when he attempted to arrest the cleric and laid hands upon him, righteous lightning struck him back.

Just by thinking of that, Daphney felt something flare deep within her. It was some sort of strength; like a crackling, pulsing energy. In that moment there was the utmost clarity for the young cleric. The scriptures were a guide; a set of instructions on the power that was available to her and how to use that which was within her. The very power the angel had spoken to her about.

With the story Trast referred as her guide and forcing it to the forefront of her consciousness, the electricity within her was released as a light that cascaded forth in brilliant arcs. It pushed Ubuer back from her, slamming him into the side of a nearby hut. "Enough!" Her voice strong and Ubuer no longer holding her, Daphney reached down to help Kilan to his feet as he was making slow progress on his own. "By Earoni's grace, I will see that the Rebellion stands to see the light of another day."

Trast dropped to his knee and bowed his head. "Revered Cleric," he said. "Forgive me for not being of more assistance to you."

"I don't think she needed either of our help." Kilan was busy massaging his groin. "Damn. Kicks to the baby makers sure do hurt."

"Are you alright?" Daphney asked.

"Just got to walk it off." Then he pointed to Ubuer, unconscious in a lump on the ground. "Now him? He's going to feel that one in the morning."