Sleep had been a strange thing for Phyrn’s chosen come their first night in Jiel. They were still adjusting to the fixed daylight, the perpetual twilight. However, slept they had, and it had been good sleep, in this land of almost tangible restfulness that stirred with a dreaming magic.

They’d spent the morning the same way they had so often now when finding themselves in a new portion of civilisation: exploring.

Daniel had said he’d needed to visit a contact of his in town, saying something briefly about needing to replenish his stock of magical components for his studies or some such (he had been less than specific), and Emilie had deigned to accompany him, eager to be in the company of a fellow hierophant again.

“I must warn you,” Daniel said, “my friend… she’s shy. She’s used to me arriving alone; you may have to be patient with her.”

Emilie nodded with a warm smile on her face. “I understand. I have grown accustomed to making myself as unthreatening as possible; ‘tis part of our role, after all.”

“Don’t worry,” Daniel assured her, “once she warms up to you, she can be quite… affectionate.”

“Indeed?” Emilie half-scoffed. “And how affectionate might she be?”

Daniel’s face suddenly flushed with colour. “Oh, my elder, it’s nothing like that! It’s just… she doesn’t go out of her way for companionship, and I think the few friends she has made she simply… savours.”

“I am only mildly assured,” Emilie said. “I’m still not sure I fully understand.”

“You will once you meet her,” Daniel insisted.

Emilie dropped the matter, trusting in her fellow of the cloth.

Emilie hadn’t realised it until Daniel was leading her down into the earth itself, but he had lead her out to the edge of town. “I know this must seem strange,” Daniel said, “but she has made her home down here, near a subterranean waterway.” It was a hole in the ground bordered with worn stone, as if someone had attempted to make the entrance somewhat civilised. Emilie took a deep breath, and Daniel’s hand, letting him lead the way down the less-than-smooth steps. It wasn’t long before the light no longer reached them, but just as things faded to total black, a new light seemed to be forming deeper in, barely visible at first.

Emilie could just about tell when the narrow passageway opened up into a naturally-formed room, and could hear the telltale babble of flowing water. That’s when she realised it was not a light, but two distinct dots of blue-green, floating next to each other. As her eyes adjusted, she realised those bulbs of light were attached to stalks… which themselves were attached to a head! Antennae of some sort? Emilie could only wonder, for she’d never seen the like before. As she got closer to the stranger, she noticed their eyes were clouded over with a dull grey milkiness. At the sound of their footfalls, the stranger reached out a hand, and whispered: “my dear Daniel? Is that you?”

“It is,” Daniel said softly. He took her hand gently in one of his, and put his other atop.

“It has been longer than usual since your last visit,” the stranger said, her voice a bit stronger this time. “And your footsteps were… unusual. You’re not alone, are you?”

“I should’ve anticipated your fine-tuned hearing,” Daniel mused. “A fellow hierophant is currently with me.”

Emilie stepped forward. “Emilie Sherasinou, of Ardour Temple, at your service.”

The peculiar woman smiled. “Of Ardour Temple, you say?” she paused for a moment, and then continued. “You have a voice as sweet as Daniel’s, Emilie. I see the gods of this world are consistent in the calibre of their listeners.”

“You can tell so much about me from my voice alone?” Emilie asked with a degree of scepticism.

“I have learned to be a quick and effective judge of character,” the stranger cadenced. “But… I won’t be fully sure of anything until I’ve read your hands.” Daniel relinquished the stranger’s hand, and she upturned her palm for Emilie to take now.

“Please pardon my hesitation,” Emilie stammered.

“My appearance unnerves you,” the stranger giggled. “Be not afraid, friend of Daniel. I know I appear strange, but I am… well, mostly human.”

“I’d like to know a little more about you before letting you… what was it? Read my hand?”

The stranger smiled. “My name is Einsyurn. My mother’s side is fully native to Berodyl, and all human. My father’s side is mostly Berodyl-native, mostly human, except for my paternal great grandfather. He came from a world far, far from this one, a fabled celestial realm where globes of life are suspended in infinite black; I was told that he hailed from such a globe, brought to this land through chance in his youth, just another roamer of the crossroads. The name of his globe was not passed down to me, but I am still endowed with his people’s blood— as you can well see. Berodyl is all I’ve ever known, and I never knew the man; All I possess from beyond this firmament is merely an echo— including my powers of reading. It is no magic like what you know… but, it seems, it has earned me the title of seer anyway.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Emilie finally said, “but I’m not sure I’m wanting a palm reading at this time.”

“It is no mere palm reading,” Daniel jumped in, coming to his friend’s defence. “It’s a gift from another world.”

“All the same…” Emilie insisted.

Einsyurn just nodded, and slowly began rising from her reclined seat in the rock. More of her became visible as she emerged from the recess that Emilie had not previously noticed. She was wearing a simple, dark cloak (or, at least, it seemed dark with only the light of her antennae bulbs to reveal it). She moved into the darkness, taking methodical, calculated steps, and knelt down at the running water. “Daniel, dear… I presume you didn’t stop by just to say hello.”

“I’ve been meaning to,” he said slowly, “but circumstances have sadly made it unwise for me expose myself unnecessarily.”

“Then, on this occasion, I believe we can overlook the usual fee.”

“Are you sure?” Daniel stepped towards what Emilie could now discern to be a shoddy wooden table off to the other side of the space. “I’d feel awful taking your hard work without compensation.”

“Please,” Einsyurn snickered, “the cephweed grows itself, I simply pluck it from the riverbed.”

“We both know it’s not so simple,” Daniel retorted.

Einsyurn paused, and looked over her shoulder with her unseeing eyes. It was more her mouth she was trying to turn toward the two hierophants, to make her voice clearer and her expressions visible to her sighted friends. “There is another form of compensation I’d consider, then… since you were kind enough to bring a new friend along.”

Daniel looked at Emilie; when she looked back at him, realisation dawned on her.

“Very well,” Emilie gave in. “But only once this little transaction of yours is complete; I’d prefer for my younger to wait outside.”

“I understand,” Einsyurn tried to say as reassuringly as possible. She grunted faintly as she yanked something out of the water with a light splish. She brought it to Daniel, who accepted it in both hands… and then it vanished in a blink of blue.

“Thank you,” Daniel said. “Once it is safe to do so, I will visit again.”

“As always,” Einsyurn smiled, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Daniel made his exit.

“I’m curious,” Emilie said once she was sure Daniel was no longer able to hear them. “Why are you so determined to hold my hand?”

Einsyurn stifled a giggle. “Forgive me… it is a custom of my ancestors that seems to beg indulgence even though I was never taught about it. It would seem they had a fascination for hands and feet. We find peace in the depths of others’ psyches; it has… been quite some time since I had someone new to share the experience with.”

“An experience worth more to you than mere money, it would seem,” Emilie said with a tone more relaxed than she’d been expecting. “How… deeply does the reading go, may I ask?”

“Don’t worry,” Einsyurn said. “I will cease before reaching too far.”

“Very well,” Emilie tentatively agreed, and offered her hand. As soon as Einsyurn’s hand came to rest in hers, she felt a shiver.

Einsyurn said nothing at first, just humming and hawing at whatever it was she was perceiving during this strange process, her eyes closed and her antennae twitching. “I knew I recognised your voice… you’re older now, but… yes…”

“You recognise my voice?”

Emilie only got a soft hush in direct response. “I see a fading light… the gods, their power dwindles as their numbers do likewise… but a different light is slowly coming to the surface of the vast ocean that is your soul.”

“This imagery is… certainly compelling.” Another hush. This time, Emilie got the message, though did allow her eyes to roll.

“Now I hear your voice, as it was… it echoes across the ocean, from one light to the other, from the gods to… hmm…” a twinge possessed her eyebrow, and then settled. “When you were chosen… when you met witch… when you gave your first sermons at Ardour Temple… then older, when you welcomed outlanders here, come in search of glory, to fight alongside the gods… then at the edge of the world, where you met…” she smiled. “Far and wide, high and low, long will you walk the marches of this world to find yourself. Searching, always searching, discovering new things every day about the world and yourself. Such is the way of most lives, but for you, the journey is even more vivid. The water rises… into the sky… the gods sit their thrones, and on the floor of that ocean, so too sitting thrones are the mortals closest to you… including…” she sucked air in through her teeth, as if pained, and then let Emilie’s hand go. “I think that’s enough. Thank you, Emilie; this has been most enjoyable. I could sense deeper, more private things - thoughts, feelings, visions through time - creeping upward, so I stopped.”

“I appreciate your respectfulness,” Emilie sighed. “I’m… not sure I fully understood your words.”

“The reading can be hard to decipher at first; it may take me some time to figure it all out myself. Some things, though, were very clear. Your reverence for the gods, for instance; you truly do love them, don’t you? And it pains you so that they are dying.”

“Yes,” Emilie winced.”

“However… your reverence for them pales in comparison to his reverence for you, my dear.”

“Come again?”

“Ah, apologies— I’ve said too much. Let’s just say… I’ve been visited in the past by someone who knew you. Knows you. That you know. You were… prominent in their reading.”

“Is that so?” Emilie almost asked for more, but realised that, if it had been someone else asking about her reading, she’d expect Einsyurn to honour confidentiality in the matter. No… best not to press, she realised. She also thought it wise to not reflect overlong on what Einsyurn had said. His reverence… for me…

She stopped that thinking dead in its tracks. “I trust you won’t divulge any of what you saw?”

“I swear it,” Einsyurn nodded, “not a word. I don’t know how sacred of a trust my great grandfather’s people consider the reading to be, but I was raised to maintain firm personal principles. So, I shall treat it thus. I have enjoyed your visit; I hope to see both you and Daniel again soon, fate permitting… and if such a thing should exist.”

“It has certainly been… intriguing,” Emilie smiled genuinely. “Yes… may we meet again.”