The day was carried towards an end - Father Sun descending below the horizon
in search for his mate - the Basin falling back into the shadowy embrace of
Mother Night. The afternoon had burned hot, draining the energy from those who
toiled in the Hemp fields of the Human settlements, and one by one the lights
were put out and the farmers turned in for the evening.

All except for one man, however, who climbed upon an old, worn-out mule and
began his long ride home. He had been away for nearly a month, working within
the fertile soil of Delport, though he now traveled the highways towards a
small stretch of relaxation - back to Stewartsville and his daughter.

The sound of love and peace hung in the air. Even as the aging man moved
onto the Old Imperial Road, he could hear the denizens of the small river
community singing and carrying on with their nightly encounters. He hated it
there, in Delport, but he was left with little choice when his choices were
between its fields and a starving child. It had been so for years, since his
wife passed away. The Fates were cruel, as far as he was concerned - he had
lost the love of his life, yet his future carried him, again and again, to the
one village in the Basin where such a thing thrived more than anywhere else.

But he endured, for the sake of his shinning star, for the sake of his
daughter - Mirielle.

+++

"Father!" came the voice of an angel from within the small shack that he and
his daughter called home. "You're home!" The door burst open as a medium-sized
figure ran out onto the Moonlit sand, leaping high into the air to tackle the
much larger man to the ground, following up with a vice-like hug and a storm of
kisses. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, Little One!" the father laughed, returning his daughter's
embrace. "How have things been?"

"Wonderful!" the girl beamed as she spoke, "an Aquamancer from Celest was
here last week! Oh, it was so amazing! He was wonderful! You'll never believe
the things he did!"

The man chuckled softly. "Yes, Little One. I'm sure it was spectacular." He
smiled, leaning up to place a soft kiss upon her forehead. There was no
particular love in his heart for the Principality, which rested upon the
opposite shore of the Inner Sea, yet, they kept the stinking wastelands away
from his home, and for that, he could not much dissuade his young daughter of
her admiration.

It was then, however, as such thoughts passed through his mind, that the
Star of Celest chose to flare suddenly, the Holy Light that emanated from the
Pool of Stars being visible even from such a distance as they were in that
brief instant. The teen's eye lit up, seemingly to match the miraculous
spectacle. He fought a sigh - he knew, one day, he would lose her to the
waters.

+++

"It is time we threw off the idle hand of New Celest!"

"It has been over two years since our pact!"

"There must be more they can offer! Our fields wither, while they have the
power of water at their fingertips!"

"It's time!"

A large group of villagers had gathered outside of the Stewart Mansion,
calling the Countess herself out into the conversation. It was clear that a
revolt was looming. Even if one could not hear the shouts, the electricity that
preceded such events was incredibly hard to ignore. There were, however, two
particular citizens absent - father and daughter, who, instead, spent a few
final quiet moments on their native beach.

"Are you really taking me to Delport with you, Father?"

"Yes, Little One, you're coming with me this month."

The young woman's face was practically glowing as her father spoke such
words. She had, of course, heard the stories of Delport and its Chateau, but
she could not believe such a place of romance existed. She was going to be
sixteen soon, and what girl at such an age does not wish so badly to meet her
Paladin in Celestial armor?

"Is this because of the coming revolt?" The girl tilted her head in
curiosity, shrugging off her fantasies, if only for the duration of the
inquiry.

Her father frowned, and she knew it was true. "I won't have any daughter of
mine here to watch those bastards from Magnagora unleash their dogs."

"But surely the Paladins will come to protect us?" And such is the return of
a daydream.

"I'm sure they will, but there won't be no business of you watching the
result of such."

The girl gave a small sigh, though it seemed to be caught somewhere between
sorrowful and dreamy, her mind torn between Celestian knights and Delportian
nights - such choices for a young woman to weigh. "When do we leave?"

+++

A pair of travelers moved out off the Stewartsville Path, taking the first
steps onto the great highway system, and their first steps towards the unknown.
They left behind them squabbling villagers - it had been roughly a week since
the debates began, and any opposition to the ending of loyalty to the Light was
quickly dwindling.

A father, as he led his daughter away from the approaching war, could only
silently thank the Fates that their departure had come in time. Time did not
pass far, however, before the shouts rose up from the village of Stewartsville,
as its inhabitants declared itself free, no longer under the sphere of influence
of the Righteous Duchy of New Celest. The pair had only just reached the trail
where the Grey Moors met the Great Southern Highway. Silence, the unnatural
sort, spread out across the lands. All at once, the sounds of the world had
changed.

"Father!" Mireille squeaked frightfully, pointing towards the grasslands to
the south. He saw where her direction was focused - a face, one seemingly
distorted by the softest breeze. It was not, however, the end of shock, for
with the emergence of a reverberating hum, emerald light seared their widened
eyes. Where once there had been only dust and weeds, there now stood a mighty
forest, ethereal and illusory in its existence, and yet, its beauty soared
beyond words.

As quickly as the tainted quiet had fallen, the rustling of leaves quickly
broke it. No longer alone, the ‘familiar' face moved closer, the tall grasses
of the Moors seeming to bend and wave, though not once did the bodies to which
those piercing eyes belong obscure them from sight, as the small group of
forest spirits moved steadily closer. As ethereal mist, they moved out onto the
highway, seemingly oblivious to the pair. Without any form of acknowledgement,
the one in the lead nodded then glanced off towards the revolting village
before dashing away in a sprint, the group keeping perfect pace.

Such was not the only experience that would seek them out however; a fact
made clear as sickening clouds rose up on the horizon. With a blood-curdling
screech, one that could have put any of the Faethorn Court's banshees to shame,
a prancing Geomancer came into being at the landscape's crest; his very presence
warped the earth, his every breath was laced with crimson wisps of taint.

Unwilling to risk the sanity of the Magnagoran mage, the graying man kicked
frantically at the sides of his mule, spurring it on towards what little safety
distance could provide.

+++

"Here we are, Little One." said the father to his teenaged daughter as they
came into view of Delport's hemp mill. There was still a ways to go, of course,
until the highway took them over the river and allowed them access to the path
that led into its heart. It was simply a relief to be safe, and, quite luckily,
once they had reached the Grand Junction, their movement had gone swiftly and
without any interference. Aside from the usual pilgrim and cow, all that was
seen by the pair was a young Paladin of Celest, who marched, with squires in
tow, towards the battleground that they had, but days before, called home.

"It's beautiful, Father." Mireille smiled, hugging her father tightly from
behind. The Chateau d'Amour glittered majestically beneath Father Sun; the
flirtatious laughter from within could be heard even from where they were, even
if just barely, carried as it was on a generous Inner Sea breeze.

"Be careful, Little One," he replied sternly, "this place isn't to be
trusted." She pouted, quite promptly, in reply. "Don't give me that. I know
what I'm talking about. Not a boy in this place has any good intentions. Mark
my words. Stay away from them."

"Yes, Father." A sigh escaped the girl's lips as she spoke, forcing herself
to look off in the other direction, off towards the Lower Estengare river,
where she could just barely make out the figures of local gold miners, each of
whom searched through clouded streams for their own bit of starlight.

+++

"Hey." came a half-whisper, one boy jabbing another, shorter boy, in the
ribs with his elbow. "Qui?" He indicated a young girl who walked along the path
near the river, strands of brown hair caught in the ocean breeze making her as
quite the sight for any young man.

"Je ne sais pas." The second boy simply shrugged, without a clue.

"Bah," retorted the first, "what good are you?"

"Je ne sais pas." came the reply again, this time accompanied by a grin.

"Useless." grumbled the taller of the two. "I'll just have to find out
myself, oui?"

"Je ne sais pas."

"Oui, oui. You don't know anything, it seems." With a simple push, the boy
was off, a bit too much momentum achieved from the wood mill's wall, causing
him to half-stumble in the girl's direction.

"Bonjour!" the young man shouted as he approached, having regained his
composure but a moment before, which was fitting, as the sudden call being
directed at her caused the woman to lose her own.

"Oh!" she squeaked in surprise, turning about suddenly to catch sight of the
approaching youth. "H-Hello." A forced smile came to her lips.

"Bonjour," he said again, a tinge of amusement in his voice, "I do not
believe you are from Delport, Young Miss." A charming smile came to his lips.

"Oh," came the soft voice again, accompanied by a gentle shake of a head,
"no. I just arrived last week," she paused momentarily, looking off to the
southeast, where black fumes rose high into the air, "from Stewartsville."

Comprehension dawned in a flash, his head lowering in unspoken apologies.
News had reached the village the day before, word that the Countess had caved
to the Warlord's threats, and that the people there now tithed their work and
energy to the tainted Dominion.

"Well," he said, forcing his smile to return, "it is a pleasure to have you
with us, ma Cher." Gently taking her hand as he bowed, a soft kiss quickly
followed. "My name is Aleron Destan," he kissed her hand once more, "at your
service."

"Oh," the girl managed to reply, blushing furiously. She had not had the
time to realize that each of her responses thus far had been comprised of that,
however, it hit her quite suddenly. "Oh," she said again, from the immediate
embarrassment, "I'm so sorry! My name is Mirielle Raelene."

+++

"Absolutely not!" The man's cheeks were red with anger as he pounded his
large fist into the already shaky table. It groaned loudly in protest. "I will
not have any daughter of my gallivanting around with some Delportian Ladantine!
They're all trickery! Not to be trusted!"

"Father!" Mirielle cried, tears running en mass down sun-kissed cheeks.
"Pl—"

"Absolutely not. I don't want you seeing that boy again! In fact, you're not
to leave the house."

"Father!" Fire drove her now. "It could be years until we can return to
home!"

"Stay away from the boy, Mirielle."

"Father!"

"Don't argue with me. Now get to bed."

The waters returned - a choking sob sounding from deep within the girl's
small form as she threw herself behind the dingy curtain that created her
"room", landing upon a half-made cot that lay just beyond it.

+++

Tap.

Mirielle woke with a start.

Tap.

The girl rolled over, rubbing sleep from her eyes, which were still puffy
from the previous night of crying. She looked towards the window that shown
into her makeshift apartment, blinking at the late morning light.

Tap.

"Mirielle? Are you ok?" A voice sounded from the other side of the glass, a
voice that she recognized immediately and pulled her fully from the dream
realm.

"Aleron!" The girl lunged forward, throwing the window open without a moment
of hesitation. "You shouldn't be here! My father! He—"

"I know, ma Cher." A smile crossed the boy's lips as he spoke. "He found me
in the village this morning and told me to stay away from you." The smile
quickly became a roguish grin. "So, of course, I had to come and make sure you
were ok."

"Oh, Aleron. I'm so sorry for all of this."

"Shh." He placed a finger gently over Mirielle's lips, silencing her as he
smiled. "There is nothing to apologize for." Pausing for a moment, the young
man looked from side to side, making sure there were no immediate surprises in
store. "Come with me, ma Cher. Come spend the day with me."

+++

"What are we going to do? My father is going to kill the both of us for
this." Mirielle and Aleron were both silent for a moment after she spoke, the
pair lying upon a blanket in the grasses that separated the Upper and Lower
Estengare Rivers. The sounds of the Oleanvir to the northeast reached out to
them amidst the melody of slow-moving water.

"Come with me?"

"Now? Where?" The girl blinked, tilting her head curiously at the request of
her lover.

"Away." Aleron leaned close, kissing softly at her lower lip. "I've heard
stories," he whispered, "of a place high up on Avechna's Peak. The Portal of
Fate, they call it. They say passing through it frees you. They say passing
through it makes all choices your own."

"Our own?"

"Our own."

She kissed him suddenly. "I'll go with you."

+++

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Mirielle frowned distastefully at the
less-than-flattering pilgrim's robes that Aleron has handed to her. The reality
of their escape was not quite as romantic as she had initially envisioned it.

"I am sure, ma Cher." The boy smiled as he slipped into his own set of
traveler's attire. "We can walk the highway safely dressed like this, and
perhaps we can even find a guide to get us there that much faster." Slipping
his arm around her waist, he pulled her close and into a loving kiss. "Trust
me."

A faint blush rushed into her cheeks as she nodded softly. "I do believe
you. I do." She looked back over her shoulder, across the river that separated
them from the village that had come to be her home. "It's just…" her voice
trailed off as she shook her head. "Let's go." Mirielle squeezed her lover's
hand, setting off at a run and dragging him behind, off the small patch of
beach and down the Old Imperial Road.

+++

"It's beautiful." Mirielle's mouth hung agape as the pair stood just before
the southern gates of Celest, the Cassis Cornuta Tower shinning gloriously in
the morning sun. "Absolutely beautiful." She hugged Aleron tightly, her eyes
closed as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered,
"thank you."

"Excuse me," the voice caused the pair of pilgrims to jump in surprise, both
turning about to see a blue-clad figure emerging from the shadow of the spire,
"are you two in need of a guide? I can help you reach Avecnha's Peak, if that
is your destination."

Both Aleron and Mirielle stood dumbstruck for a moment - not due to the
offer, which was something they had been hoping for, but their conditions were
caused instead by the figure, bathed in holy light, that had rounded the corner
just behind their unknown guide. The man's face lifted in sudden understanding,
turning to flash a kind smile in the direction of the angelic deva who was his
own companion, before looking back to the young couple. "Do you need a guide?"

"Oh!" The word erupted from both travelers at the same time, causing the pair
to blush and laugh lightly at themselves.

"Yes, please, it would be most appreciated." Aleron smiled softly, holding
Mirielle affectionately around the waist, giving a reassuring squeeze as the
unnamed Celestine nodded in response, turning and heading back into the city,
beckoning them to follow.

+++

"Oh!" The sound of feminine surprise caused Aleron to turn suddenly, in time
to catch Mirielle as she stumbled in her climb up the Stairs of Sacrifice.

"It's ok, ma Cher. We are almost to the top." He helped her to stand,
holding you close, quite obviously protective of the woman who he had traveled
from Delport with. The Celestine that lead them rubbed his chin thoughtfully,
having never encountered a pair of pilgrims such as this before.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes," said Mirielle, forcing a smile despite the sweat that stung her eyes
and the needles that bore into her chest, "I'm fine. We have to reach the top."
Clinging tightly to Aleron's arm, she nodded, forcing herself to accept her own
words.

"Very well then." The Celestine turned and continued up the steep path of
stairs. "Only a short way to go."

"Come, I shall help you." The pair began to move again, Aleron supporting
much of Mirielle's weight as they passed through the realm of increasing cloud
and thinning air.

"I love you," she whispered quietly.

"And I love you, ma Cher. And that is all that will matter once we reach the
Peak."

+++

A pair of pilgrims stood high atop Avechna's Peak, their backs turned to the
monument as they gazed out over the Basin of Life.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do."

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

"Then jump with me."

"Jump? But Aler—"

"Do you trust me?"

"I…I do."

"Then follow me. Jump."

+++

Everything was a blur. Darkness consumed them. They were a million leagues
apart. They were still holding hands. The flashes, their pasts, which had been
spun together by the Fates, which had at first come to them so clearly, had
quickly degraded, washing away like the fragile beaches of the Inner Sea. By
the end of their travels, there was nothing but a blur, and the sound of their
own voices in their heads. The blackness consumed everything they had been,
leaving only the power of their wills to guide them.

And then a third voice sounded, bidding them to awaken to a world of which
they had only dreamed.

And then they awoke, assaulted by what seemed the vicious intensity of
firelight.

And then a flood washed over them, voices countless in number suddenly
sounding in their ears, receiving them into their new homes.

"Welcome to the Paladins, Aleron…"

"Welcome, Mirielle, to the Aquamancers…"

The young man, clad in simple clothes of grey, turned slowly to the girl,
who was dressed identically, whose hand he held for a reason he could not seem
to recall. A puzzled look passed over both faces, an entire world being
reintroduced to them in an instant. Yet only one thing interested them, only a
single gap in their understandings was cause for any disorientation - each
other.

"Bonjour ma Cher," the boy finally managed to say, "my name is Aleron
Destan," his eyes trailed from her own, down to their joined hands and back
again, during the momentary pause, "and it would seem that I am at your
service."