According to Chey, the journey to the Parish would take them the entire day, arriving at the capital city well after sunset. They would stay at the Rousseau family estate for the night and be presented to the Council the next morning. From there Bren would reside with the Clerics for the remainder of his training while Chey and Alisa stayed at the estate. Alisa would begin her own training, but as Venandi were expected to have a legacy to uphold they would be allowed to stay with their families during that time. Imerai, who were generally sent to the Parish alone, would remain in the barracks until their Initiation.

"From there, the choice will be yours," Chey said through a bite of bread as they rested their horses and ate their small packed lunch. "Whether you remain at the Parish for further training, or begin your own adventures elsewhere on the continent, with or without an Imerman at your side, you'll be a Venandi and free to do as you wish."

"What about me?" Bren asked as he bit into his apple.

"You will remain," Chey informed him. "Your magic is far more valuable than the Venandi and Imerai combined, for without you, there would be none of them."

"So I'm just expected to stay behind while Alisa can do whatever she wants?" Despite his thirteen years, Bren actually pouted.

"You'll be able to travel as well. Eventually," Chey assured him. "The training for Clerics is far more extensive, and includes more study and testing. But once that is complete, you'll be able to travel. In fact, it's expected for Clerics to journey throughout the continent once they've passed their tests, to practice their magic and eventually decide to remain where their help is needed the most."

"How does that work?" Alisa asked, picking at the cheese between her hands. "The Clerics... they can be anyone?"

Chey nodded. "It's still unknown what brings the Clerical magic to the surface though some want to speculate it's the combined bloodlines of both the Venandi and Imerai coming together in perfect union. Whatever you want to believe, they exist with a gift rare enough to be cherished and sacred enough to be protected."

"But what do they do?" Alisa pressed.

"Other than heal?" Chey nodded to the scar on her arm from the night before, the same one her brother had healed himself. "It's said they have the power to channel the magic of the angels themselves, and through it they are able to ward the blades used by the Venandi to destroy the denizens of Hell. They are also the ones who shield the city and Venandi homesteads, as well as conduct the Venandi Initiation and Dedication ceremonies."

"Dedication?" Bren asked.

Chey gave him a knowing smirk. "How else do you think a Venandi and an Imerman become an official pairing?"

Alisa felt her cheeks flush as Bren's attention turned to her. "Are you going to find an Imerman?"

"I... uh..." Of course, she knew it was part of fulfilling the Venandi legacy. Training, being Initiated, finding an Imerai to consider her equal and life partner. It was just everything that came beyond that that she tried, and failed, to forget.

Yes, Venandi relied on the Imerai as much as the Imerai needed the Venandi. They were companions who looked out for one another because when fighting against the demons of Hell, someone you trusted needed to have your back. But in that choice, it was also expected of a Venandi to copulate with her Imerai and continue on the family line. Just as her mother and Rahn had done, and as Alara Rousseau and Chey had done before them.

"She'll have plenty of time to figure it out," Chey interjected, and she felt like a drowning pressure had been lifted. "But remember— you are a Rousseau. Which means people will be expecting more of you once you're there."

"I'm to be the source of the Parish's entertainment?" she spat, not liking that prospect at all.

"Not exactly... at least not entirely. But there will be those curious to see what you do."

"Just because I'm a Rousseau?"

"Not just because you are a Rousseau. Because you are Azima Rousseau's heir. Because your mother was the Savior of the Rift, and there are people who will look to you for encouragement. For inspiration. And dare I say, even hope."

"No pressure," Alisa murmured.

"No one said it would be easy," Chey reminded her. "For either of you. Which is why you need to remember who you are and what you will be. And that you deserve to be there just as much as anyone else. Perhaps even more so."

"And if anyone tries to give us any trouble, we can just tell them we know the High Councilman," Bren suggested.

Chey gave him a slight smile and a soft chuckle. "I wouldn't say it too loud or things could be worse."

Confusion painted her brother's face. "Are you not liked?"

"He means that because he's connected to Mother as well, he may not be able to help us should our name get us into more trouble than it's worth."

Bren frowned as he looked back at Chey. "Do people in the Parish really dislike Mother all that much?"

"It's not that they dislike her," Chey started.

But Alisa cut him off.

"They're just jealous of her."

The remainder of their ride to the Parish was uneventful but Alisa wasn't sure what she was expecting. A part of her wondered if whoever sent the demons to them the previous night knew they were dispatched as violently as they were and was already plotting revenge against her mother. Another part continued to look over her shoulder, especially as the sky grew darker, hoping another horde wasn't following them to exact their own vengeance.

The sun had long since set by the time the lights from the Parish came into view. Nestled against the Gora Mountains, the Parish was the capital city of the continent and home to the central ruling power of the Venandi and Imerai. As they stopped atop the crest of hillside road, Alisa looked down on it sparkling in the distance and it reminded her of a wagon's wheel— the circular outer walls the rim, the roads that led from the many gates towards the center of the city its spokes, and the high central tower the axel that kept it all spinning.

There were riders and outposts all along the road they traveled, but none stopped them. As if they knew their High Councilman was returning and no one needed to waste his— or their— time. Alisa wasn't going to complain— though she had ridden often enough, the elongated travel on horseback was leaving her sore and incredibly uncomfortable and she wanted nothing more than to soak in a warm bath before sleeping through the night.

Chey seemed to be of a similar mindset as he silently led her and Bren along the road through the nearest city gate. "Hail, High Councilman," one of the Parish guards called as they approached. "Have you brought new Initiates with you?"

"Aye," Chey confirmed but offered no additional information as they rode through the city gate. The guard, to his benefit, asked no more questions as they passed.

Though a city in every sense of the word, there was an unexpected silence over the Parish as they rode through the residential district. Alisa looked ahead to see the central Council's Tower like a beacon in the night, illuminated and reaching skyward at the center of the city.

"We'll be expected to present ourselves in the morning along with whomever else arrived throughout the day," Chey informed them, his voice low. "However, the Council probably already knows I've returned, and that you're with me, so don't believe their surprise in the morning."

They turned down another city block, zigzagging through rows of residential housing until they came to a block of elaborate estates. "Every Venandi family maintains a residence within the Parish," Chey explained as the horses walked down the lamplit cobblestone way. "So while you're here, this will be as much your home as it is mine."

"Because you're the High Councilman?" Bren asked.

"Because it belonged to Alara Rousseau well before it belonged to me. And it will belong to Alisa just as much as it belongs to your mother, as soon as she's Initiated."

"But not me?" her brother pressed.

"In this, no," Chey explained. "If you were to continue as an Imerman, your estate would belong to whichever Venandi chose you. But as you are a Cleric, you will reside within the Council's Tower with the other Clerics of the order."

"So I won't have a Venandi... ever?"

"You won't need one. That's not to say you can't find... companionship. Clerics are allowed to marry whomever they want, should they choose to do so. But that's a ways away and believe me— with the work that's cut out for you, you may not find the time."

Chey soon stopped in front of a large mansion that, even in the darkness, was alight like a star in the night. The gravel path was lined with lampposts and the fire was already burning within. "Do you have many servants?" Alisa asked as they jumped down from their horses.

"No," Chey said, uneasy, "but they insisted on the housekeepers attending to me throughout the day, but at least they know to do so when I'm not home. No others live here, though— it will just be us while we're here."

The smell of roses infiltrated Alisa's senses as they walked to the front double door entrance. The house stood two floors high, painted white with red accents with so many windows. Chey said as he took the horses' reins from them, "Go on in and I'll get the horses settled. If the housekeepers are worth their silver, there should be food ready and baths prepared."

Both prospects had Alisa weak in the knees but she found the strength to climb the front stairs and push open the large wooden doors.

The front foyer was open and welcoming, with a large sitting room to the right and a formal dining area to the left. In front of them was a large staircase that split off to the second floor, and in the back was a hall that led to the kitchen, courtyard and beyond. Smells of cooked food and baking bread wafted through the space, and Bren and Alisa only had to give each other a glance before they ran to the dining area and ate their fill.

Chey joined them about halfway through their second plates, remaining silent as he satiated his own hunger before directing them towards the second floor. "There are guest rooms for both of you, each with its own private bath. I suggest you each take one before going to sleep because we'll be up early in the morning."

"How early?" Alisa asked, the dread of having to wake up so soon when she was already so tired weighing heavily on her body.

"Sunrise early. The Venandi waste no usable hour of daylight."

Groaning, she stood, clearing her own dishes by habit, regardless of whatever housekeeper Chey said he had. Bren followed, and soon they were trudging up the elaborate staircase to the second floor of the Rousseau estate.

They decided on rooms to the right, across from each other. Alisa had her hand on the handle when the conversation she had with her mother rang through her memory. She thought about the last moments she had with Rahn before they left, and why they were where they were in the first place. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at her brother who seemed as weary as she was, but she didn't know if they would have the time after tomorrow.

"Let's talk before bed, yeah?" she said to him.

He had already stepped into his room before he glanced back at her. She knew the look in his eyes matched her own— he looked tired but he, too, knew that tomorrow's events remained unknown.

"Yeah," was all he said, though in agreement, before he shut the door.