across his chest. “I’m grateful for your help, but I don’t need protection. I’m fairly well trained with a sword. If you want to work together to investigate Donovan, that’s great, but I-“
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.” Lydia narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t just mean protecting you physically. Not every problem can be handled by a sword. You’re going to need help if you want to find answers before you need to leave the city.”
The swordsman grimaced, opening his hands and closing them again. “Fine. I’ll answer some questions, as long as they’re not about the sword.”
Lydia quirked a brow at that. “Why won’t you answer questions about the Sae’kes?”
“Well, for one thing, because you refer to it by a proper name. My knowledge about that sword is what makes me worth anything to you. If you think you know all my secrets, that makes me expendable.”
Lydia shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. If you have the sword, there’s probably a good reason for it. If what you told me before was true, and you’ve had the sword for many years, I refuse to believe that the gods would have allowed it to remain with you unless it was intended for your hands.”
Taelien blinked. That was a stronger reaction than he had expected. He had known she was religious – she was a paladin, after all – but he didn’t anticipate that she would have incorporated him into that viewpoint so quickly. He briefly debated arguing that the sword had been taken away from him easily enough, but he quickly realized that the argument would only serve to weaken his potential leverage over her.
“That’s...how can you know? How can you believe your gods had a hand in anything, without any evidence?”
Lydia brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. “Most paladins would say something about faith. I’ve never found that quite sufficient – the gods can’t be everywhere or do everything. But that sword is both a symbol and a powerful tool – they have a vested interest in keeping track of it, and saying they have significant resources would be an understatement. I don’t have direct evidence, but I can still reason out that it’s terribly improbable that they don’t know you have it.”
“Okay,” he managed, still somewhat stunned. “Why do you think I’m supposed to have it?”
“There are numerous possibilities. I haven’t had an opportunity to narrow them down yet. The sword was historically wielded by Aendaryn, the leader of our pantheon. Members of the Tae’os Pantheon rarely appear in person – they often act through intermediaries. Perhaps you are one of his descendants, or just a chosen mortal intended to serve as an example to his followers. It’s also possible you were selected because you have a high potential for martial prowess, and Aendaryn has a particular task in mind for you.”
Taelien nodded absently. He had heard the same hypothesis before – and considered them himself. He found it considerably more likely that his biological parents had simply obtained the sword on their own and decided to give it to him for some reason. The idea that his real parents had something in mind for his future was far more palatable than being a game piece for a deity he had never met.
“That’s exactly my problem. There are too many possibilities. And how do I learn what might the plans of the gods themselves?” He sighed. “Maybe they know I have it and just haven’t decided to do anything about it yet. You said yourself that your gods rarely appear in person. Why is that, by the way?”
Lydia contorted her lips, apparently considering her response. “The Tae’os Pantheon may have ceased taking a direct role in mortal affairs, but that doesn’t mean they would ignore something as significant as who is holding a sacred artifact. If they didn’t want to come claim the sword themselves, they could send a paladin or a priest. I’ve never heard the voices of the
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.” Lydia narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t just mean protecting you physically. Not every problem can be handled by a sword. You’re going to need help if you want to find answers before you need to leave the city.”
The swordsman grimaced, opening his hands and closing them again. “Fine. I’ll answer some questions, as long as they’re not about the sword.”
Lydia quirked a brow at that. “Why won’t you answer questions about the Sae’kes?”
“Well, for one thing, because you refer to it by a proper name. My knowledge about that sword is what makes me worth anything to you. If you think you know all my secrets, that makes me expendable.”
Lydia shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. If you have the sword, there’s probably a good reason for it. If what you told me before was true, and you’ve had the sword for many years, I refuse to believe that the gods would have allowed it to remain with you unless it was intended for your hands.”
Taelien blinked. That was a stronger reaction than he had expected. He had known she was religious – she was a paladin, after all – but he didn’t anticipate that she would have incorporated him into that viewpoint so quickly. He briefly debated arguing that the sword had been taken away from him easily enough, but he quickly realized that the argument would only serve to weaken his potential leverage over her.
“That’s...how can you know? How can you believe your gods had a hand in anything, without any evidence?”
Lydia brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. “Most paladins would say something about faith. I’ve never found that quite sufficient – the gods can’t be everywhere or do everything. But that sword is both a symbol and a powerful tool – they have a vested interest in keeping track of it, and saying they have significant resources would be an understatement. I don’t have direct evidence, but I can still reason out that it’s terribly improbable that they don’t know you have it.”
“Okay,” he managed, still somewhat stunned. “Why do you think I’m supposed to have it?”
“There are numerous possibilities. I haven’t had an opportunity to narrow them down yet. The sword was historically wielded by Aendaryn, the leader of our pantheon. Members of the Tae’os Pantheon rarely appear in person – they often act through intermediaries. Perhaps you are one of his descendants, or just a chosen mortal intended to serve as an example to his followers. It’s also possible you were selected because you have a high potential for martial prowess, and Aendaryn has a particular task in mind for you.”
Taelien nodded absently. He had heard the same hypothesis before – and considered them himself. He found it considerably more likely that his biological parents had simply obtained the sword on their own and decided to give it to him for some reason. The idea that his real parents had something in mind for his future was far more palatable than being a game piece for a deity he had never met.
“That’s exactly my problem. There are too many possibilities. And how do I learn what might the plans of the gods themselves?” He sighed. “Maybe they know I have it and just haven’t decided to do anything about it yet. You said yourself that your gods rarely appear in person. Why is that, by the way?”
Lydia contorted her lips, apparently considering her response. “The Tae’os Pantheon may have ceased taking a direct role in mortal affairs, but that doesn’t mean they would ignore something as significant as who is holding a sacred artifact. If they didn’t want to come claim the sword themselves, they could send a paladin or a priest. I’ve never heard the voices of the
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