‘We stepped out onto the floor together, fumbling through our first steps, the room about us awhirl. And though she was three cups in, still Dior followed with an innate rhythm that told me she might one day be a fine sort of blade. She trod on my feet a few times, of course, but her laughter was brighter than the music around us, and to see her happy made me happy in turn. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed as hard as I did that night, and for a while, it was enough. But the whole time, it was growing in me – a shadowed melancholy that deepened with every cup I snatched from a passing tray, every burning mouthful I swallowed in my quest to drown it.
‘And so it was, when Baptiste returned and asked Dior to dance again, I gratefully made my escape. I’d had too much by then, and I knew with a few more, I’d be stumbling. The smiling faces about me seemed like death masques now, the music a dirge, and as the minstrels broke into a merry jig and all the crowd began stamping in time, I realized there was nowhere on earth I wanted less to be. Dior howled as she twirled arm in arm with Baptiste, spinning and stumbling through the throng, and I snatched a bottle from a table and pushed through the great wooden doors, out into the lonely chill.
‘The wind made my eyes water as I trudged the cobbled path, shoulders hunched for warmth. I knew where I was headed, walking without thought, tugging another swallow from the bottle as it rose up before me like a lodestone. I could see candlelight through stained glass, smell the votive incense, hear echoes of the mass long sung.
‘The Chapel of Aveléne.
‘It was a tiny affair, nothing so grand as the Cathedral of San Michon. Still, it had seemed a palace not so long ago. And as I stepped inside that wintersdeep night, I saw myself as I’d been all those years past. Walking on colt’s legs through the dawndoors, Aaron at my side, down to the altar and the angel waiting there. She’d stood in a beam of dimmest daylight, hands over her belly, and I know it sounds clichéd, but she’d been aglow with it. The Order had cast us out like bones and chaff, and I should’ve been ashamed. But walking to Astrid’s side that day, promising to be with her forever, I knew only love. Purest love.
‘I stood now in that empty church more than a decade later, and all was cold and silent. A wheel of rowan wood still hung above the altar, a carving of the Redeemer lashed upon it, spinning gently in the wind as the doors creaked open behind me. I took another pull from the bottle, swaying on my feet. I knew I’d be a sorry bastard come the morrow.
‘“Fairdawning, Aaron,” I called.
‘“Godmorrow, brother,” he replied.
‘I could feel him standing beside me now, as he’d done on that happiest of days, carrying the troth rings Baptiste had forged with his own hands. I offered Aaron the bottle, and he took it, drinking from the neck. We stood side by side, and I stared up at the wheel spinning over our heads, slowly shaking mine.
‘“Did that ever strike you as odd?”
‘“I’m not sure what you mean.”
‘“The wheel.” I nodded to it. “Why they chose that as the symbol for the One Faith.”
‘“It’s a symbol of the Redeemer’s sacrifice. The offering that laid the foundation for His Church on this earth, and our salvation. By this blood, shall they have life eternal.”
‘“But doesn’t it strike you as a little morbid? Seems to me maybe they should’ve found something that celebrated the days he lived. The words he said. Instead, the symbol of his Church is the thing that killed him.” I shook my head. “Always struck me as strange.”
‘Aaron handed me back the bottle. “Are you aright, Gabe?”
‘I looked at him then. My friend. My brother. I’d never visited the ruins of Coste, but I’d heard the tales of what Voss had done to the city after he crossed the Bay of Tears. I’d always wondered if Aaron wished he’d been there. Falling into ruin along with his famille before the advance of the Forever King. And I sighed, staring up at the Redeemer again.
‘“How can you still pray to this bastard, Aaron?”
‘“He is my God. All I have, I owe to him.”
‘“All you have?” I scoffed. “They took everything from you. They cast you out of the Order you’d devoted your life to. You stood in defence of this empire and his Church, and the men of both were set to flay the skin off your back for who you loved. Because of a few words in some dusty fucking book. All you are is what God made you to be, and yet they turned on you for it. How can you pray to him after that?”
‘“It’s as you said, brother. It was men who did that to Baptiste and me. Not God.”
‘“But he allowed it to happen. All on earth below and hea’en above is the work of my hand. And all the work of my hand is in accord with my plan.”
‘Aaron gazed at the Redeemer above us, shaking his head.
‘“You’re looking at it wrong, Gabe,” he sighed. “God may have sent the storm, but he gave me arms to swim for shore. He might bring the winter snows, but he gave us hands to light the flame. You see the suffering all around you but not the joy right beside you, and you curse him for the worst but don’t thank him for the best. What the hell do you want from him?” Aaron looked to me, searching my eyes. “If Baptiste and I had never been cast out of the Order, we’d not have been here all those years ago when you and Astrid came pounding on our gate. And I’d not have been standing here beside you when you swore your love for that woman, nor had the chance to see you weep as you held that baby girl in your arms. If we’d stayed in San Michon, we’d not have been here to answer when you and Dior came stumbling in out of the snow today. And if that girl is the answer to ending all this suffering, isn’t my suffering worth that?”
‘“You’re telling me there was no other way to get Dior where she needed to be?”
‘“I’m telling you I’ve made my peace with him. You only appreciate the sunshine after you’ve stood in the pouring rain. Everything happens for a reason, Gabe.”
‘“Bullshit!” I spat, rage rising. “This isn’t about reason, it’s about retribution, Aaron! He sets you up to fail, and when you break his damned rules, he punishes you for it. He makes you want, and when you take, he takes it all away. What kind of sick fuck does that?”
‘“Such is the price of sin, Gabe.”
‘“If it’s sin, how can goodness come of it? And who’d let that goodness flower a moment only to tear it out of the earth? A sadist! A blacksmith who blames his own blade! What kind of bastard punishes the people you love in order to punish you?”
‘I flung the bottle, the glass shattering on the Redeemer’s wheel. One of the stays came loose, and the wheel dropped, twisting lopsided as I spat in fury.
‘“No fucking brother of mine!”
‘Aaron looked at me carefully, a scowl on that handsome brow. “Are we talking about me and Baptiste now? Or are we talking about you?”
‘I made no reply, staring at that holy fool spinning above us.
‘“… Where are Astrid and Patience, Gabriel?”