Very carefully, Caelan picked his way through the thick, colorful cushions on the floor that circled a low round table covered with more colorful threads and a mug of tea.
Standing at their side, he could more clearly see that the person appeared to be no more than twelve or thirteen with a perfectly bald head. Their skin was as white and flawless as new snow. Their features were also delicately wrought with a small button nose and pale pink lips.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, High Luminance. It is an honor,” he said, sketching a low bow.
The child tilted their head up toward Caelan, revealing eyes as white as their skin. Caelan stumbled a step, barely holding in his gasp of surprise. The leader was not only a child, but a blind child? That couldn’t be.
“Yes, I’m blind,” the High Luminance answered Calean’s unspoken question. Their nose wrinkled and their lips spread into a warm smile. “But I see better than most. We all have for generations.”
“Forgive me, Your Excellency. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just…surprised.” Actually, he was shocked and struggling to get his footing. It had been hard enough trying to formulate his thoughts when he believed he was going to be telling a child that someone was plotting to kill them, but now he had to tell a blind child.
The High Luminance gestured to the bright red and amber cushions on their left. “Please sit. We have so much to talk about, and so little time to do it in.”
A bit awkwardly, Caelan lowered himself to the floor and settled on a silk cushion a few feet from the child, not wanting to crowd them. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“You’ve come to wake the Dead God,” they said simply. “I saw it here a couple of years ago.” The High Luminance turned back toward the tapestry, their right hand moving over it in a loving caress.
Caelan’s heart skipped a beat. Years? This had all been decided years ago? Why was it allowed to happen? Why did his mother have to die for him to be here right now?
“I don’t understand.”
The child’s smile dimmed and turned softer, more compassionate. “I know. I don’t understand many things when I see them. Sometimes it takes many years for events to become well-defined. Sometimes they never do.” They cocked their head to the side and returned their attention to the tapestry. “Every High Luminance that came before me was blind. They are chosen when the previous one dies. Some are born blind, while others become blind the day the High Luminance passes on to Nyx. We believe it is so we can more clearly see all of time and not be distracted by the present day around us.”
“May I ask…”
“I was born blind. I’ve never seen this world and all its colors, but I can feel them, and I can see them all in my mind,” they replied with a return of their impish smile. “Nyx gives us glimpses of the future, and every High Luminance has used art to share those visions with our followers. They help me interpret what I see and use those visions to guide Zastrad.”
“Then you already know why I’ve come to Mrtyu?”
The smile disappeared, and the High Luminance seemed to focus wholly on the tapestry in front of them. Caelan remained quiet, watching as the long silver needle was worked through the tapestry, adding a long stitch of deep red. He couldn’t quite make out the scene they were creating; he could see only a small section of it, but it was heavy with red, orange, and black.
“I know you are here to wake the Dead God. I do not know the why of it,” the child admitted softly. “Would you be willing to explain it to me?”
“I will tell you as much as I understand.”
Caelan launched into his tale of meeting Kaes and Tula, of bonding, of meeting Safa, and uncovering the plot to free the Goddess of the Hunt. But more than that, he found himself telling the High Luminance all his thoughts and fears about the gods, the plans he was sure they weren’t telling him about, and even his greater worries of whether he was even worthy of carrying this burden. It was as if his soul had sprung a leak and there was no stopping the outpouring of words and emotions.
Through it all, the child’s expression never changed. They listened without judgment, simply nodding here and there. He should have been horrified to confess all these thoughts and emotions to a child, but it was freeing. It was like being able to finally draw in a deep, cleansing breath.
When he ran out of words at long last, they sat in silence with the High Luminance adding one stitch after another to the tapestry. There was only the sound of the thread pulling through the fabric and the soft poke of the needling punching in again and again.