Tra waited til she was out of the room. He quickly finished cleaning before slipping into the shrine alcove. Incense and candles were lit and he sank down to his knees. The next several minutes were spent centering himself. She was a wonder, to be sure, but she wasn't his. He had no right to distract her from their quest.
Eventually, calm seeped in, then swept over the priest. He let out a relaxing sigh, feeling himself center and his sense of purpose return. He had things to do. He couldn't be shaken. He let his mind drift for a time, seeing thoughts come into focus and fade out just as quickly. They washed over him like the tide, tugging at him or buffeting him on occasion, but never for more than a short time before they slipped away. Eventually, one thought stood out, clear.
Namir.
The High Overcleric stood in a courtyard. White blossoms adorned fruit trees, and fountains trickled nearby, accompanied by the sound of string instruments playing meditative music. Tra reminded himself to take nothing he saw literally. Visions were often more symbolic than realistic, after all. Tra seemed to be watching from behind the weeping branches of one of the trees. He could make out Namir, but there was someone else there. He could not tell who. There were voices, but he couldn't make out most of the words. Only a few trickled through. Traitor. Savoir. Deceiver. Miracle.
The blossoms were blue. Why had he ever thought them white? It seemed perfectly right for them to be red. Yes, of course. They had never been anything other than golden. He found himself stepping into the courtyard, drawing a blade. It shimmered with the darkness of night, the kind of darkness that hurts the eyes to look at too long, that one must turn away from or their eyes would make up their own colors to fill the void. Tra's footsteps stopped abruptly. Almeria stood there, her hands resting on the High Overcleric's arm. She was smiling up at him. She turned to Tra, tried to run to him, only to stumble, a rope of fire tying her wrists to Namir's arm. Namir smiled, raising a blade of his own. This one was just as black, but held within it thousands of points of light. Stars! He raised it, pointing it at Tra. Writhing energy leapt out, striking the priest, throwing him from his feet. All he could see was sky and blossoms rushing past, each petal black and full of blossoming novas and softly swirling nebulas. Each one was a brilliant red, and they slid together and dripped from the petals, his own blood raining down to scatter on the courtyard stones, moving to him to pool beneath him.
He fell back, gasping for air. The priest was drenched in a cold sweat, eyes dilated. He took a few moments to try and center again, finally extinguishing the candles and grinding out the incense. What had THAT been? Now that it was over, he remembered pain and the feeling of all warmth leaving his body. Or maybe it was just that he was sweat drenched and freezing. He stepped out of the alcove, tugging off the damp shirt he wore. He'd have to write all this down before he forgot!
