Her Light - Chapter 6

En Glory of Her Light Index

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The cadence of hooves against the divinely paved road provided an oddly soothing tempo to the otherwise chaotic swirl of thoughts in Gideon’s mind. After moving to his horse on their path through the wide northern street, his mind had shifted to reflecting on Kaela’s mannerisms.

He occasionally glanced back to see her continue pestering Isolde to at least be allowed to hover outside the room when she did her ‘inspection,’ as the teen put it.

On the surface, she has this degenerate, teasing sarcasm…but inside she’s spiraling. Although, it is amusing to see Isolde squirm at some of her questions. Altheria, what are you trying to tell us by inviting this Outworlder into our lives?

Each step of the procession reverberated through the stillness at the forefront of the march toward the temple. His gaze fixed on the towering gates of Sanctaria, the heart of the Dominion a beacon of glory to their First Sister. Even Kaela’s incessant questions and poking comments ceased as they approached the colossal city.

The spires of the temple stretched skyward beyond the pristine walls, gilded in Altheria’s light, each inscribed with sacred scripture that pulsed faintly in the dimming evening. Yet despite the awe-inspiring grandeur that Kaela saw, to him, it was home. Normal. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, though. Still, his thoughts remained ensnared in the memory of Her shackles—the divine, bound by faith.

He shifted slightly, feeling the comforting weight of Radiance resting against his back, a tether to the present. The mace had been in his family for generations, its handle worn from the grip of those who came before him. It had rarely ever seen the hint of true combat in those generations, yet now saw it daily. He traced his thumb over the engraved scripture, finding solace in the familiar prayer etched into the metal.

“Gideon?” Isolde’s voice was soft yet insistent, breaking through his thoughts as she moved to the front of the wagon. He slowed his horse, shifting them to the side to meet her emerald eyes, filled with unspoken emotions. “Kaela insisted I ask you if there’s…anything I can do.”

He exhaled slowly, golden irises drifting back to see the girl fidgeting with her fingers and looking away, clearly listening in. She really is going to be trouble. Obviously, Isolde can tell I carried something from that battle with me…as she did. She wouldn’t ask again unless she cared…and is bothered by her own vision. It probably involved Anelisse. The fact she took her older sister’s place in my squad must also have an effect that makes her anxious.

“I am fine, Isolde,” he reassured, offering a real smile. “Don’t let the kid push you off a cliff.”

“Wha! What does that even mean?!” Kaela balked, making Isolde giggle. “I’ve been super chill for being kidnapped by a creepy dead finger shadow thing and being transported to a new world!”

“Yes, you have been quite entertaining,” Isolde chimed, making the girl’s mouth drop into a pout.

“Well excuse me for distracting myself. No phones. No games. Just talking.”

Her gaze lingered on him as the girl went off on a tangent, searching for cracks in his resolve, but she did not press further. Instead, her attention shifted to the young girl fuming in the back of the wagon.

It didn’t take long for Kaela’s nerves to take hold again, quieting her down. She fidgeted, tugging at the borrowed dress draped over her strange, ripped clothing, her gaze flickering between the towering gates ahead and the silent figures of the knights surrounding their caravan.

“So…am I allowed to, I don’t know, at least be close enough to hear the trial or whatever in the temple?” Kaela piped up, her voice forced into a mock casual tone. The veneer of bravado didn’t fool Gideon. She was clinging to them, her anchors in a world that made no sense to her.

He turned in his saddle, offering a rare smile. “You will be. While that is being setup, you will be in good hands.”

She gave a dry laugh, though her fingers tightened on the wagon’s edge. “Yeah, sure. Because a bunch of guys with swords and glowing armor aren’t totally intimidating or anything. Don’t mind me freaking out.”

Gideon glanced at Kalen, the young crusader seated on his horse beside the wagon, his youthful features showing the hardened experience of war. The boy—barely a man—straightened under Gideon’s gaze.

“Sir?”

“Kalen,” Gideon nodded, his tone steady and bringing the teen girl’s gaze to him. “See to it that Kaela is made comfortable when we reach the temple. Answer her questions if she has any…and be patient. She comes from another culture.”

Kalen nodded swiftly, shifting his straps that held his shield to his back. “Yes, Templar. I’ll watch over her.” His soft amber eyes shifted to her, running a hand through his ruffled chestnut hair. “I’ve been looking forward to hearing more about your world.”

Kaela shot a look between them, then back at Kalen, squinting as her cheeks colored slightly. “I see what you’re doing, Gideon!”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is that?”

She shifted to appraise him with a critical, appraising eye. “You’re like…what, eighteen? Should I be worried?”

Kalen looked utterly bewildered as he looked to Isolde for guidance before hesitantly replying to her squinty gaze. “Just by this last month…yes? I am confused. Is eighteen a troubling number where you come from. I am a Crusader of Altheria, miss. You have…nothing to fear.”

Kaela leaned back with a sigh, muttering under her breath, “Great. Babysat by a holy boy scout… At least he’s cute.”

“I’m…what?”

Isolde hid a chuckle behind her hand as Gideon gave a small shake of his head. “Kaela, trust is earned here, but it is also freely given. Open your heart a little and maybe you will see that this is an opportunity.”

“For what?” Kaela snorted, rolling her eyes. “And I shouldn’t lie. Right, Mr. Perfect? He’s cute. That’s a compliment where I’m from.”

Deflecting and trying to put herself in a stronger position with Kalen… Altheria, help him.

“You’re among those who would die for your safety,” he bluntly stated, making her swallow and stare at the wagon floor. “We love our country. We love our Great Sister. We love our freedom. Honor that and we’ll honor you.”

The girl blinked at him, something in his words striking a chord by her shiver. Her lips pressed together, and she gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah… I’m just playing. Alright.”

Gideon nodded and turned his attention forward once more. As they drew closer to the gates, the looming fortress of Sanctaria casting its divine glow over them, he allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection.

He could not afford to let his faith waver. Not now. If Kaela was here. It meant something big was coming. What that was, he couldn’t guess.

The grand gates silently slid open, revealing a city bathed in the eternal glow of Altheria’s grace; the floating bell over the city maintained a constant reminder of Her presence.

The streets stretched in intricate, harmonious patterns, carved from pristine white stone and lined with towering spires that shimmered faintly under the golden sky. As their caravan moved through the gates, the atmosphere shifted—an overwhelming sense of sanctity pervaded every breath, every sound, every sight.

Kaela leaned forward, wide-eyed, her earlier sarcasm momentarily subdued by the grandeur of it all. “Okay… I take it back. This is next-level insane,” she murmured, gripping the wagon’s railing. “Is this place made of marble or, like, holy steroids?”

Isolde smirked beside her. “I cannot say if it is holy steroids or not since I do not know what that is. But as far as I know, the streets are consecrated stone, imbued with Altheria’s blessings. They resist decay and corruption.” Her emerald gaze swept over the bustling crowds, most going about their own business, a warmth in her voice. “What I do know is it’s more than stone. It’s faith made manifest.”

Gideon remained silent, his golden eyes sweeping the streets, noting every bowed head and every whispered prayer. Sanctaria had always been a symbol of divine order since they’d been pulled into this realm of nightmares. Altheria’s temple loomed in the distance, an ever-present reminder of the weight they all bore.

Kaela’s voice cut through his thoughts. “So…this is the capital, huh? Why do I feel like I’m gonna burst into flames if I swear?” She fidgeted with the fabric of her dress, clearly uneasy under the watchful gazes of the citizens who lined the streets. “Am I that pretty…or just ugly? Why are they looking at me?”

Kalen dismounted to walk beside the wagon, offering a reassuring nod. “You are safe, Kaela. The people stare because they know everyone within our Dominion. You’re new, which doesn’t happen often. Some people wander in from the darkness from time to time, but it’s very rare, and they typically leave soon after. Plus, you carry Altheria’s mark… It shows through and they’re curious, not hostile.”

“Yeah, well now you make me want to cover my chest… Why didn’t she put it on my back or forehead or something? I don’t even know what it means—you guys don’t even know what it means!”

Isolde moved closer to put a comforting hand over hers as the teen started breathing sharper, offering a reassuring smile rather than words. Kaela took a deep breath and squeezed it back.

“I…just feel like I’m walking through the set of a really intense religious epic,” she muttered, her eyes darting from the kneeling figures along the streets to the towering statues depicting the goddess in various states of divine intervention—her arms open in welcome, her sword raised in defiance, her gaze unyielding in judgment.

Gideon couldn’t help but smile faintly at Kaela’s unease. He turned in his saddle, addressing her with a measured tone. “This city was the first sanctuary in the Shadowlands, built by those of us who chose faith over despair. Isolde’s too young to remember it but every stone here tells a story of endurance, sacrifice, and redemption.”

Isolde shot him a light glare. “Just because I’m six years younger than you doesn’t mean I don’t remember some portions of the humble beginnings of the capital.”

Kaela relaxed a little by the banter, looking somewhat better while scanning the faces they passed, every person engaged in worship or their daily work. “Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

The streets gradually narrowed as they neared the inner sanctum of the city, where the true heart of Sanctaria pulsed—the Temple of Altheria. The air grew thicker, charged with an almost tangible energy, and even Kaela fell into a contemplative silence. She cast a glance toward Isolde. However, Gideon noticed, their usually composed purifier was visibly tense as they approached, and her gaze kept darting to him from time to time.

“You nervous?” Kaela nudged her lightly, Gideon listening intently. “I mean, you're about to talk to the head honcho, right? The Prophetess? About this sixteen-year-old sinner girl from another world?”

Isolde exhaled softly, offering a tight smile. “You are not a sinner girl, Kaela. You are a precious soul that deserves to choose her own destiny, as we all do. I have faith in Her guidance, but…” She glanced at Gideon. “But sometimes faith alone isn’t enough to quiet the questions inside us…which is perfectly fine. So long as we do not drink from the poisonous well of doubt.”

Kaela stared at her for a long moment before nodding slowly. “I don’t…really get it. But I kind of do, I think.”

Gideon urged his horse forward as they reached the grand entrance to the temple, massive arched doors adorned with celestial engravings depicting Altheria’s victories over the shadow. He dismounted with practiced ease, the weight of his mace shifting heavily across his back.

He moved to the back and turned to Kaela, offering his hand. “You will wait here with Kalen until we are summoned.”

Kaela eyed the temple warily, then glanced at Kalen before sighing and taking his hand to step down from the wagon. “Fine, but if I hear any chanting in a weird language or blood sacrifices, I’m out.”

Gideon allowed a chuckle. “What a weird imagination you have, but noted.”

As the golden doors creaked open, Isolde hesitated briefly beside him. She touched his gauntleted hand lightly, her voice gentle but firm. “You…still want to talk alone?”

He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “I said I would. Come on. And don’t put any weird ideas into Kalen’s head, Kaela.”

“Why am I in trouble?! One truthful compliment and I’m suddenly a succubus! Dad would have understood…”

Kalen’s head tilted to the side, a curious crease touching his eyes. “What’s a succubus?”

She seemed to bounce back in an instant. “Ho-boy! You know, maybe this isn’t so bad,” she chuckled, a rather unsettling smile tugging at her lips.

Gideon shook his head while leading the way into the temple’s hallowed halls, the divine light swallowing them whole as Isolde walked beside him, hands held tightly at her front.

The grand doors of the temple closed behind them with a soft, resonant thud, sealing out the ambient noise of the city. The air inside was cool, touched by the scent of incense and sacred oils that burned softly within golden sconces lining the hallway. A robed attendant, clad in the pristine white and gold of Altheria’s service, stood waiting, his hands clasped in reverence.

“The High Sister has been expecting you, Templar Solaryn, Purifier Caelvar,” the attendant intoned with a serene smile. “Preparations are underway. It will take several minutes before all necessary parties are assembled.”

Gideon inclined his head. The quiet within the temple walls offered little refuge from the storm inside him but he moved forward regardless. Isolde, walking just beside him, cast him a glance that spoke volumes, but she held her tongue.

“We’ll be in private council until the High Sister is ready for us,” Gideon murmured, leading her into one of the private chambers off the main hall. The attendant nodded in acceptance.

The moment the heavy doors closed behind them, the tension in the air shifted. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of expectation settle into his bones, and let out a slow breath. The chamber was modest—stone walls adorned with sacred inscriptions, a small table and chairs near the center, and a single glowing lantern that pulsed gently with divine warmth for reflection.

Isolde remained silent for a moment, her gaze lingering on him with that same quiet concern that had been there since the battle. He could feel it pressing against him like the weight of the armor he had yet to remove.

“Not getting into the paranoid degeneracy of Kaela’s coping. I know why you’re worried,” Gideon started, his voice steady but lacking its usual unshakable calm. He rested a hand on the table, fingers tightening over the worn wood. “You’ve been waiting for me to talk about it. What the Reaper showed me…”

She swallowed, green eyes sharp with quiet determination as she moved to sit opposite him. “I know it’s not my place… You’re not just the man I admired growing up. You’re my Templar. It’s not my place to doubt you. I just…want you to know Altheria isn’t the only woman by your side willing to support you, Gideon.”

Wow… Gideon crossed his arms and sat back, the wood creaking under his weight as he stared at the girl who was always running after her big sister and him. She really has grown up to become a fine Purifier and woman. I hope you’re proud of her, Anelisse, and looking after her from the light. But…what is that uncertainty I see in her eyes?

He studied her for a long moment, the familiar strength in her face, the conviction she wore like armor. And yet, something flickered beneath it—something fragile, hesitant.

“Trust her.”

The echo of Altheria’s words tugged at him. The vision the Reaper had shown him, unrelenting, kept Isolde as the light in the darkness that had saved him.

With a reluctant sigh, he straightened and showed a little bit of the nerves he hid beneath the surface. “You’re right.”

Her bottom lip sucked under. “I am? I’m confused.”

Mouth curving upward, he fed on the confidence he gained when looking at her. “When I was combating the Reaper’s visions, Altheria told me there is nothing I can do against this kind of darkness. It is a choice. Have faith in you… Have faith in us. You’re more than just my Purifier, Isolde.”

His golden irises locked onto hers, vulnerability flickering within him for the briefest of moments. “So I will. You’re the only person I’m willing to talk to about this right now.”

Isolde stared into his eyes locked onto his for a moment, cheeks coloring before glancing away and smoothing her bangs behind her ears. Her lips parted slightly, surprise flashing across her face, confusing him a little. The Purifier swallowed and asked, “That’s… Not even High Sister Serelith?”

Her gaze darts to him again, realization sparking in his mind. Maybe that could be interpreted as doubt? Tilting his head to the side, he stared at the flickering lantern on the table. Is it doubt…or pride that I want to handle it on my own? I don’t want to be weak. I can’t be. Is that my fault… Humility? 

After a few seconds’ consideration, he slowly shook his head. “I…probably should. I don’t doubt her. I know she likely has answers for me…but I don’t feel like they would have the same effect if I didn’t confront these…uncomfortable feelings myself. And it’s different with you.” He frowned upon seeing her holding her breath. “Perhaps I’m not explaining myself well enough… I’m trying to find the words.”

For all her persistence, she seemed to have not expected that. She shifted, pressing a hand against her chest as though trying to steady herself. “Gideon, that’s… I’m not sure—” She faltered, guilt creeping into her voice, into the slight tremor of her fingers.

Wait… Was her vision from the Reaper related to…my part in Anelisse’s death?

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze dropping for a moment. “…I understand,” he murmured, the weight of unspoken things hanging between them. “If you still blame me for what happened to Anelisse—”

“Stop,” Isolde cut him off, frustration tightening her features. She stood, placing her hands on the table and leaning closer, eyes blazing with something he couldn’t quite decipher. “You always think you know what’s going on in everyone’s head, don’t you?”

“What? No…”

Her voice trembled, frustration laced beneath it. “Then don’t assume something that isn’t true! I don’t blame you. I never did. How could I? But you—” she exhaled sharply, looking away and running her fingers through her golden hair. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

Gideon’s brows knit together, searching her face for an answer that wouldn’t come. “…Maybe not?”

Isolde clenched her fists at her sides, a war seeming to rage within her. He could practically see her heart hammered against her ribs as she debated whatever had set her off. But the words wouldn’t seem to come.

“You…” Her eyes darkened with agitation, perhaps at herself, perhaps at him, the kind of look that made him feel like a fool. “You make it so damn hard, Gideon. You carry everything, and yet you don’t see that I—” She cut herself off again, jaw tightening. “I can’t talk about this. Not yet. Are you…disappointed in me?” she mumbled, almost close to tears.

Gideon got up and walked around the table before bringing her into an embrace. Holding her against his armored chest, he whispered, “No. I could never be disappointed in you. Whatever it is you’re struggling with… I’m sorry I didn’t see it, but you’re always welcome to steal my time when you do find the words to hammer me over the head,” he added with a weak chuckle.

Her arms hesitantly closed around him, her head resting against his breastplate as she mumbled, “Good…because I’m disappointed enough for the both of us. And I hate how proud I am of you…as confusing as that may be to hear… Thank you.”

Truly bewildered and considering that she might want an escape, he said, “I won’t push you. It took this whole trip and partly Kaela’s prompts for me to open up. At least part of it must be me holding back my own experience. Do you want to hear it?”

Isolde let out a bitter laugh, pulling back and raking a hand through her hair again while brushing away tears. “You won’t have to push me,” she muttered. “I’ll push myself to do it soon enough. Just…be patient. I’m weaker than I’d like to be.”

Left hand moving to grip her elbow like a lifeline, she lifted her gaze to meet his, and this time, there was something else there—something raw and unresolved. “Just…please, don’t shut me out, Gideon. I know I’ve never broken down like this before and…I sound insane, but I’m working on myself.”

“I won’t. Thank you for believing in me,” he promised without a glimmer of hesitation, moving to offer her a seat again. In fact, her words strengthened the resolve within him. “I only survived the Reaper due to your faith… Not my own.”

Her green eyes seemed to glow, something vulnerable shining through as she brushed away a few more tears and took it. “Tell me that again.”

He smiled and took his chair again. “You are the reason I survived, Isolde. Let me tell you what I saw…and the questions on my heart…”

As he moved into the story, Isolde’s expression changed by the scene, deep emotions rolling within her, but Gideon had faith in Altheria’s words. He had faith in Isolde.

And, as if by divine decree, the moment he finished the tale of her blinding face chasing away the darkness to pull him out, the attendant knocked on the door. The Prophetess was awaiting their arrival.

Isolde’s eyes were bright and puffy from her tears, goosebumps crawling up her arms as she rose with a smile. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Gideon… Truly. I don’t think I’m in the right state to meet the Radiant Council… I’ll prepare Kaela to come in when she’s called.”

Rising up, he nodded and was a little surprised when the Purifier moved around to hug him one more time. Briefer this time, but with a totally different attitude.

“Thank you for not judging me for my outburst…” When she pulled back, there was a confident firmness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll get stronger… Like you.”

With that, she dabbed at her cheeks with her sleeve, and left with a smile that could conquer the world, leaving him happily confused.

I know you can do anything you set your mind to… I’ll be here when you need me.

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