Glissandi woke up in total darkness. The first sensation that hit her was the burning pain radiating forth from her cheek. It overwhelmed her temporarily and she brought her hand to the wound, her fingers trembling as she traced the stitches with her fingertips. She felt tears well up and didn't try to stop them. When she felt a sob coming she forcefully suppressed it. By the Light, it hurt! She had never been switched before at the Monastery, but somehow she thought that this wasn't exactly comparable to getting smacked on the rear with a cane or the magical version of it.

She tried to switch her focus away from the pain, into her magical reserves. The roaring fire that usually resided in her wasn't there, but unlike earlier in the evening when her reserves had been entirely depleted, a small flame had returned to her. She failed at first, stabs of pain tearing her concentration apart. She frowned, annoyed at her control slipping beyond her grasp and was rewarded for the facial expression by even more pain. She cursed. The pain woke her up fully and she felt her own anger burn in turn, suppressing the pain to an extent. 'This is what Warriors must feel,' she realised. 'Using anger to fuel their determination when pain threatened to distract them.'

She brought her full consciousness to bear on it and was pleasantly surprised when she managed to shrug off part of the roaring pain that the wound gave her. Her other senses started to report sensations again. She became aware of a vague scent of alcohol and the memory of Lissa bluntly pouring it onto her face returned. The recollection at being so roughly treated made a flash of anger roar through her mind and she redirected it to distract her further from the pain. She shifted her focus away from her inner rage and moved it towards her magic. This time she grabbed hold of it without issues. She felt relief flood over her as the energies washed over her body, instinctively homing in on her wound. It wouldn't be enough to fully heal it, but it greatly lessened the pain and she could feel an itch that she knew meant her skin was healing.

Establishing the connection properly, she sank back down in the bed, tenderly rubbing her fingers on the slowly healing wound, the pain easily ignored now.

"Lord..." she whispered. It was deserved. She knew it. She had sought out the punishment, not primarily because she had panicked like a raw recruit, but because she had failed in her sacred duty to the Lord. She had wished to live, to survive, when her only task should have been to eliminate Darkness. She lived to serve. She was a Priestess, a loyal subject of the Lord. Her gifts, training and ability were there to spread His light, not for her own selfish gain.

The wound had also served so many more of her goals than merely acquiring a form of atonement. It had instilled a form of respect for her from the Paladin. It had revealed her dedication to the cause and the way it had happened had enforced a sense of unity in the party. Oh yes, Mother Dilia had prepared her plenty for when she'd go out in the world, far more than she had let on to the rest of her group.

In that aspect, at least, she had succeeded, far faster than she had anticipated. She had known her weaknesses, known that the Warriors would feel a variation of irritation and pity towards her due to her lack of skills that were a second nature to them. Lissa had been somewhat impressed by her willingness to admit that. The girls had mocked her for it. Trista was still a mystery.

Reading that woman was like trying to see through a wall of stone. Still, the Knight had risked herself in order to save her. As Mother Dilia had said, there were plenty of advantages to being the first party to be sent out. The first party simply was made up of the best, which meant that each and every one of their party would do their duty. She closed her eyes, a small shiver running through her spine as the wounded skin knitted itself together again. She recalled one of the conversations she had with Mother Dilia, away from prying ears.

"The party that accompanies you during your Sending is much more important than most people know. You are with them for years, and they are your ties to the Warriors and their kin. How well you perform and how much you impress them will matter greatly in how their entire faction sees you and it heavily influences your future career. You know that most other Associates do not like you, due to your rapid progress. They are jealous of you. They might try and hinder your future growth if they are able, but most will never ascend beyond the rank of Priestess. Make connections, Glissandi. Spread your web. You are special. The Lord has blessed you with many abilities. Make sure to use them all for His glory and soar as high as you can."

The Priestess opened her eyes again. Her party was more united than ever. She had learned valuable lessons, and the failures she had made during the battle would not be repeated. Every mistake she had made, she would analyse and she'd improve herself accordingly. The pain had been a good lesson to. It had hurt, oh Lord above, it had hurt so much more than she had expected. It had torn aside her barriers and reduced her to a weeping wreck. Thanks to that, however, she could now put things into perspective. Pain was an area she had been unfamiliar with. She had encountered some of it in the battle, when she was thrown across the stones and the friction had torn the skin of her limbs, but then she had been shielded by magic and her own ability had mended those wounds instantly, dulling the pain as it came before doing away with it entirely within mere moments.

Aside from having gained solid experience and a tighter bond with those who would, hopefully, later serve as her connections into the Order, she had taken out a skilled witch, a true servant of Darkness. She had saved a child who had a promising future. Neither of those were minor achievements and both would ring throughout the lands. It served the Lord as much as it served her own goals.

She would make sure that Nassi would be sent to the Monastery. Mother Dilia would undoubtedly tutor the little girl until she'd grow up to be another capable Priestess. Connections, friends, relations, all mattered. To climb in the Order one needed more than simple abilities. It was an intricate web of politics and one needed to navigate it carefully to rise in rank. Mother Dilia had raised Glissandi and that bond worked in both directions. If Glissandi climbed, so would Mother Dilia. If Nassi climbed, so would Glissandi. You helped one another and supported those who aided you. It was sickeningly similar to the politics of a kingdom or an empire, but Mother Dilia had explained the difference to her when she had asked.

"A noble desires rank because it carries power and wealth, and they crave that. They are vulnerable to corruption. Some genuinely care for their subjects, but to climb in such an institution requires blackmail, the trade of favours, conflict. All too often war springs forth because of it. We desire to climb in rank only if we think ourselves capable of it. Sure, Associates often dream of leading their own monastery at one point, and we encourage those thoughts as it drives them to further improve themselves. However, in the end all that matters is ability. If you can climb the ranks, if you are capable enough to handle more than your current task assigns you, then we see it as our duty to do so. To do more, in His name, to better serve Him, for that is our purpose. And we are strict with ourselves. If we see a person trying to ascend, we will judge them harshly, for that is our way. No matter what happens, we cannot allow the Dark to worm their way in. And sometimes, we are overzealous in our scrutiny of those below us, and prefer to be overly cautious. That is why it is important to have the backing of others. Thanks to their aid we can climb ever higher and do more for the Lord. Because that, my dear girl, is all that matters to us. To work for the Lord. Our duty is sacred above all."

She had her team and her accomplishments. She had gained a possibly valuable ally. Thanks to the interference of the strange Salixor, she had done so without losing anyone in the process. Now, however, she stood at a critical point. There were plenty of unasked questions, and she prayed that Mira had been right in assuming that the witch had only cursed the girl out of arrogance and the desire to see others suffer. She needed answers to the point that she was actively considering pulling back to the Monastery in order to ask Mother Dilia for advice.

If Salixor was right, then those who would chase her could prove to be an insurmountable obstacle if she chose that path. Then again, there was the chance he had been lying. Due to her reserves being depleted, she hadn't been able to study his emotions. Depending on how much of what he had said was truth, the actions she would have taken would have differed greatly. Left in the dark as she was, however...

"South..." she mused. That had been his advice. To retreat towards the faction that opposed those who would chase her. Still, even if that was true, it would only be a temporary stopgap measure. They could not hide there forever. Should they try to find the items that had been stolen, assuming they had survived the battle? Should they try to find this Gaelus, despite Salixor's warnings? Should they go back to the Monastery and report on all of this? There were advantages to either options, but risks aplenty.

Going south would mean risking their lives, even if it was in line with their original course. Going back meant they might gain additional information on Salixor's mysterious master. They could also report on everything else, but it could be seen as cowardice and if those who would chase her were as vile and capable as Cassandra had been, or worse, as Salixor had warned them, more capable, then they would easily set ablaze the world to lure them out, killing many innocent believers in the process.

She shook her head. Returning was out of the question. She would have to trust Lissa's paranoia to keep her safe. Trista's constant alertness suddenly made so much more sense as well. They would stick to their course, go south. She would have to draw up a report and ask Captain Dar to deliver it to Mother Dilia, preferably in person. The Captain had proven to be very reliable. She could ask him to take Nassi with her as well, after having a word with the orphanage. Her brother's desire to protect his sister could make him a valuable asset as well, albeit in the Warrior's faction. The boy had shown quite a bit of bravery in confronting them, for his sister's sake.

She would have to plan this with Lissa in the morning. The Paladin would have to give her a crash course in Warrior skills. She grimaced at the thought of it, especially when she remembered how her legs had burned during the ride here, but knew it was a vile necessity. She clenched her teeth in determination. Powerful yet hidden factions warring in favour for or against this mysterious Gaelus, with people capable enough to clash head on with the first party of the Sending.

Salixor served neither Darkness nor the Light, Cassandra obviously served Darkness, and Gaelus supposedly had no love lost for the Order. Did that make him a servant of the Dark, or was there more at play? She would have to be wary to not let prejudice cloud her thoughts on that. If Salixor's deference was anything to go by, he was capable, and could either prove to be an invaluable ally or a grave threat. Regardless, if she could deal with him, it would be a massive boost for herself, the Order and the Lord.

'Yes,' she thought. She now had a task that superseded the mere conversion of villagers, although she would not relent in that either.

'Beware, Gaelus,' she thought to herself, her golden eyes ablaze with determination.

'I am coming.'