“It’s worse than I thought it might be,” the High Luminance said at last.
“I’m sorry.”
They smiled, a little crooked, and shook their head. “Certainly not your fault.”
“I do have more bad news.”
The High Luminance chuckled. “Let’s hear it.”
“The High Arcanist is plotting your death. He wants to become the next High Luminance. We were told some plans that he wishes to have more open trade with the rest of Thia, to be more involved with the rest of the world.” Caelan paused and scratched his bearded chin. “I have to admit, I do like the sound of that. There’s a lot that I don’t understand about the people and culture of Zastrad, but I think there is a lot of positive that you can share with the other peoples of Thia.”
The High Luminance sighed, and it sounded as if it had come from someone fifty years older. As if it had been dragged from their ancestors. “But with the people of Zastrad comes the Kiss of Death. I know the High Arcanist and his people already leak the drug to Caspagir.” They snorted, their face twisting up in an expression of derision. “He thinks I’m blind to all of his silly little plans. As if he could continue as he is if he were the High Luminance. Nonsense.”
They fell to silence, the needle clenched tightly in one fist as they glared straight ahead. Caelan wasn’t sure what to do or say. Clearly, they didn’t need his warning of treachery in Mrtyu.
“Do you know what Kiss of Death, when used properly, does?” the High Luminance asked suddenly.
Caelan shook his head. “No.”
“It’s not meant to kill. Never kill. What good are dead worshipers even to the Dead God?” they muttered before resuming their stitch work. “Kiss of Death is a poor translation. It’s more like Kissing the Dead God. The drug is meant to put the user in such a deep sleep that their dreams can reach the Dead God, allowing him to communicate directly with you and you can communicate directly with him. Nothing more. But administering the correct dose and watching the user is the duty of a highly trained priest. If a person doesn’t have that training, then yes, death happens frequently.”
“Do you use it?”
The child smiled a sneaky little smile and tapped their temple. “I don’t need to take Kiss of Death to have the Dead God whispering in my dreams. Vision after vision fills my mind all the time. My days are spent in front of the tapestry, stitching and weaving what I see.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds…” Caelan fumbled, trying to think of a word that wasn’t incredibly insulting.
“Exhausting?” they supplied with a smirk. “It can be, but then I’m sure it’s no more exhausting than being bonded to the God of Storms and the Goddess of Life.”
“They keep life interesting,” Caelan hedged, while both gods grumbled in the back of his mind. He always had an avid audience.
“But it is also an honor to be chosen. We know our roles in the grand scheme of existence will be brief, but if we can help in some small way, to save some lives or bring some joy, our lives are well spent.”
It was true, but at times so very hard to remember when he was hurting and tired. Or when he was terrified for the lives of his friends and people.
“Kiss of Death and our duty to the Dead God are the reasons why Zastrad must stay separate,” the High Luminance continued.
“I don’t understand.”
“Where the people of Zastrad go, so goes the Dead God and his poppy. We are inseparable. Thia is not prepared for Nyx.” The High Luminance smiled at Caelan, but there was something sad and almost lonely about it.
“Kamal?”
The child scoffed and made fists with both hands. For the first time since he entered the room, they nearly looked their age. “Kamal,” they growled. “He wants to throw open the doors and plunge all of Thia into our burden. Foolish and selfish. Even if he were to be made the next High Luminance, Nyx would show him the truth. The doors would remain shut, and all his planning would be for nothing. The people of Zastrad were chosen to watch over the godstone and to wait for you. The world is not prepared to handle Nyx or Kiss of Death. Our separation protects Thia.”
Caelan heard their words about Kamal and his useless planning, but his brain was locked up on one other key point.
“You’ve been waiting for me? You said something like that when I came in. That you’ve been expecting me for years.”
The sad smile was back. “I don’t know precisely what you look like, but I knew it was you I was waiting for when I heard your voice for the first time. You were chosen for this job the same way I was chosen to be the High Luminance who greeted you. The Dead God is waiting to be woken.”