TUESDAY MORNING - 11:53am 5/1/90 The Citadel

Jacob steps aside and let’s Darnesc enter the newest addition to the Citadel.

“And this, Uncle...is our newest addition, the Citadel Interfaith Chapel.”

The old man takes a few steps into the sunlit chantry and genuflects.

“Oh, Jacob. It is beautiful! Simple, yet filled with divine light. Surely the Holy Blessed Mother is in this place.”

“This is an expression of the new Earth, scorched by the fires of the Devastation and reborn by the faith of the many gods in the divine family.”

Darnesc’s voice wavers as his eyes stream with tears.

“Glory to the Trium and the Gods of this New Covenant.”

The two men spend a moment in silent prayer and reflection. Then, remembering the hour, Jacob puts his hand under Darnesc’s arm to help him to his feet.

“I’m afraid it’s almost time, Uncle. Caleb will most certainly have prepared young Juan for the rite.”

“He’s a fine young man, that Caleb. He reminds me of Tyvian when he was that age.”

Jacob is so proud.

“He is going to be a fine priest. As for Anthony. I’m afraid he holds onto the impetuous nature of his otherself Rogan. I was shocked when he declined attendance at Juan’s induction. I apologize for him, Uncle.”

“He’s a good man, whatever name he is called. He must have his reasons. After all...he’s an Aethelgran battle priest. The hand-carved induction ceremony of a Surinite acolyte is not exactly the kind of activity of interest to the stone-cut Priest’s of Aethelgrim. Do not...what is it you say? Sweat it!

The two men laugh gently in the sacred space.

“Now, before the wondrous ritual begins, this old man needs to attend your privy.”

He touches his heart.

“They always say, the old priest’s heart grows stronger but his bladder grows weaker. In all things, balance.”


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