Boreal Detikarak Sea, 28 years later.

  The ship had been stirring directly for the little flotilla on course for Canem Bay.

  It was a Balà Fast-Sail indeed but it wasn't flying any standard or recognizable banner; it was making all it could to rejoin the group of ships even to the risk of its spars and masts. One could hear the older sailors on deck making disapproving noises as they glanced over the railing at the racing fast-sail. Word came from the admiral's cabin to reduce sails and allow the newcomer to gain on them.

  Lead bellied clouds darkened the sky and the cliffs of the coast, of what had once been the proud Rabatean empire, were black with rain; wind gusts raised the white foam off the crest of waves in a sea that couldn't decide if it was going to get angry or settle down for the night.

  As it approached they all recognized the Behem and saw that what had looked like reckless precipitation from afar, had actually been master sailing by one of the best commodore in the fleet. Merorae's ship sleekly sailed to cut the admiral's wind and came to snuggle by its side in a smooth maneuver that allowed it to fold its masts completely while the momentum of its speed brought it gently against the side of the much larger ship.

  She did not wait for the boatswain's call before jumping on board and strode directly to the cabin's door where the guard looked increasingly panicky as she came closer not knowing if she should let her in unannounced or bar her way. Atacherel opened the door behind the guard's back and waved at Merorae to come in. She walked though the entrance without a word but as he closed the door she spun round and asked:

  ? Did you burn them? ? He merely looked at her in silence and she noticed the tired look and the grey hair in the night-blacks she was used to. He is closing in on his fifty first. She thought, but what she said was: ? The monasteries, did you order them burned? ?

  ? Would you sit and drink some tea with me, my friend? ?

  ? You look your age Ata, ? she said, ? Yes I would have tea. ?

  ? You don't look yours. Great-Grand-Mother-Merorae they tell me. ?

  ? Otanache is the very happy great-grand-father and a celebrity among the fishmongers community of Canem, I hear. I am merely beginning on the seventies and I am very much a commodore these days. ?

  ?And yet I don't see your squadron sailing with you.? There was amusement in Atacherel's voice but his demeanor remained uncharacteristically guarded.

  ? I have my answer.? She said softly and in the silence that passed between them she understood that he did. He had had the remote monasteries burned and the monks deported and he was ashamed of it and he was angry at the desperation of the Rehev?mes and at the fear of the Veviensis that had driven him to such uncharacteristic extremes.

  ? I guessed the White Island pushed you too. ?

  ? As did the guys in the Palace, the Natabs, the Balà that venerate Her as the incarnation of the Three Fold God. I am pushed from all sides to be the conjuror of the Tale of Obed. ?

  ? But Ata! Why burn them? What could it possibly achieve? I do not understand how this is supposed to emulate resolve and bring results, I was at the latest meeting we had on this ridiculously named quest and the more we learn the more insubstantial it is. The map itself might have been utterly annihilated during the Advent if not eons before in the cataclysmic spasm of the Elder States warring upon each other before the church united! We are seeking the ghost of the legend of a map.? Merorae laughed mirthlessly, ?Carved by the Goddesses Three themselves from the clay of the world in the sacred GodWord of their own mother. We don't even believe the Three Goddesses ever were real, it's not part of the Balà canon. God knows that's at the very core of what they call the Balà heresy, the fact that we believe in one single entity that has three faces who is at the source of everything. ?

  ? I know that. But the Veviensis is real, you know what she brought us, you know what she is to us all Balà... ?

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  ? What if we are wrong? ? She suddenly asks and as she stares at him she sees that her question reverberates in the caverns of his troubled mind and he doesn't like the echoes coming back.

  ?We are not.? He says with much more certitude than he actually feels. ?We cannot be wrong. She has promised us all that has been written by Obed and more. She has given us the security and the sanctuary from Triad that no other could not even the distance of Sillaribes from here. We... I am committed to this...? He faltered, allowing her to say, ?This is exactly what I meant. You have never been wrong before. You went to Evening Island and back, you sailed the Ring Sea, you brought the flower back to the white island, you built a city... ?

  ? Only with your help, Merorae ?, he interrupted gently.

  ? Yes, but did you ever stop to think that Veviensis never asks us what we want, she never offers anything but accepts what we offer. We demand and she provides. She never told us to build a city, she answered our request for a Balà city on Mahara?a by telling us that we should build it where Canem is now, as well she never told us to go and sack monasteries but merely hoped we would help find a map and there we go and burn them to ashes and bring the integral content of their squarery including intendancy reports and accounting squares! I heard that the Natabs in the Parotos have killed all the monks and raised the buildings to the ground. Natabs are Triad's sons not Balàs, what the fuck are they doing that for if not for the glory of an idealized living goddess that told them all their wrongdoings are forsaken as long as it was done in Anagh's name. Who the fuck is that Anagh anyway!?! ?

  ?My father has studied the archaic texts translated from what the Triadic monks call the GodWord and the name Anagh is linked to a proto-deity of the family of Agasha the mother of their three goddesses. ?

  ? There we are back again. ? She sighed, ?do we or do we not believe their goddesses are, or were real? ?

  ? Why does it matter? ?

  ? Because if they were or are real then they have all the right to defend themselves and to die in the fight for their world, the exact same right we do have to fight and die in the defense of our god. But we do not have the right to go conquering and converting them like they did to us. We should find a middle ground allowing both religions to cohabit in this far than large enough world. ?

  ?But we have been wronged. And then Veviensis came, did she not come to lead us to our rightful place in this world? ?

  ? I am a fishmonger's companion, my place in this world is simple and small and not awash in the blood of anything other than fish entrails. I do not need the blood of triadites to find my place on the oceans. ?

  ?But you were brought up with the stories of the slaughter of Sekk's Balà quarter, the great hunts of Gash and the Rabatean war against the heresy. There are ports in which your ship is banned because it's a Balà ship and towns where our brothers and sisters have to pretend to be triadites and swear by the goddesses names because praying to the threefold god is forbidden upon pain of exile or sometimes death. You cannot deny this. ?

  ?Well, I am sorry but these people have been granted free passage on any Fast-Sail to the Sillaribes, they can leave and get to a much better place where living quarters and food will be given to them and they will be cared for. They have no excuses to remain in arm’s way. ?

  ?In saying this you are as much a zealot as I am Merorae; don't you think? ?

  ? At least I don't go burning monasteries and rounding up monks. Where is that tea you promised? ?

  ? Waiting by the door for a pause in our joust. ? He smiled faintly and lifted his head to call at the service door, ? come in and make it fast, the commodore and I still have things to shout at each other. ?

  The boy that came in was physically shaking and rattled the tray so much that Merorae thought he would toss it in the air and run if she merely booed at him.

  Despite what Atacherel had said they drank their tea in silence.

  ?I have to ask you as a friend not to put me or my squadron on duty for this Cautious Quest, and you have to change that name now that it's all about pillaging and burning and killing, don't you think?? She said into her cup.

  ? I wasn't going to take you into this dirty business anyway. I need you back in Canem before your husband turns it into a giant fish market. ?

  ?What to do? ?

  ?The elevator of the Rehev?mes works wonders and we have constructed dry docks on the city level now to mend the ships that are taken up and need it. We need building yards to be constructed. Orders of the Whites. I would like you to take it up where I left it. There is still so much to do in the public parts and the habitation quarters need to be controlled, I heard a building collapsed sometime ago, constructed willy-nilly it seems. I need you as my overseer and it will enable you to see your great-grandchildren and get acquainted with the messengers of the Whites. ?

  ?I guess I'll soon miss the open sea storms. ? She drank the last of the tea and stood up as if she was twenty years younger and added as a parting word:

  ?I wouldn't have burnt them. ?