“I wish to speak,” said Ahaesarus. The Warden had remained mostly silent during the length of their journey, and hearing his stern voice made Patrick twitch. “There is something I must ask you all.”
“Go on,” Patrick said.
Ahaesarus stepped to the edge of the burial mound. “Where will you be going from here? What plans do you have?”
Everyone stared at him as if deep in thought. None responded.
“We don’t know,” Patrick said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I suppose we just see what happens.”
“Do you love Ashhur?” the Warden asked.
“Of course,” Allay said, as if offended. “He created us.”
“Yet he is gone now. How will you honor him?”
To that, none had a reply.
Ahaesarus began pacing inside the circle, looking each man in the eye as he passed him. “Ashhur spoke of love and forgiveness, of living in harmony with your fellow man, of caring for family and appreciating all life. With him now gone, who will spread his message?
“When Karak first left his children more than forty years ago, a priesthood was formed. Although the leader of that priesthood, a man named Tustlewhite, now languishes, insane, in the custody of Neldar’s king, I have learned there were many more that bore the mantle. Villages throughout this kingdom have a temple; and that temple, a priest. The priest preaches, and the acolytes carry forth the message. Though they have not been heard from since Karak was banished, they will not remain that way for long. Civilization needs beliefs. They will rise up again; they will preach Karak’s word. If this world is indeed free for any and all to live wherever and however they may choose, that doctrine must be balanced. Ashhur’s teachings must not fade away into nothingness, lest Celestia’s final condemnation come to pass.”
Patrick drew his lips into a tight line. “What are you saying? That we should become priests?”
“Not in the slightest,” said the Warden. “My fellow Wardens and I have talked of forming the priesthood. However, I have spoken at length with King Vaelor and his advisors over the last few weeks about many of the aspects of life I experienced on Algrahar. In particular, he was curious about the concept of a knighthood. You all may remember the stories my people told you, of an order that adhered to a strict code, pledged their lives to various kings, their duties to defend the realm and uphold the law of the land.”
“The Wardens left Neldar when I was young,” said Preston, “but I remember those stories well.”
“Yes. They are tales of gallantry and honor, of brave men defending against invading armies and battling hell beasts. However, these men did not serve the will of Rana, but the will of man.”
“The will of man?” said Big Flick, confused. “You had humans where you were?”
“No, son. On Algrahar, we were humankind.”
“Oh.”
Ahaesarus chuckled. “That is beside the point. Although these knights were indeed great warriors, they were mere peasants when compared to those who trained them. It was those who dedicated their lives to Rana’s teachings-operating outside the laws of men, preaching the word of our god, upholding the holy and protecting the innocent-that were the true glory of our world. We called them paladins, their order the most trying and elite to ever be created. In fact, I was told by Ashhur long ago that he and Karak had paladins of their own at some point in the past, on some other world.”
“Paladins? Never heard of them,” said Patrick.
“I would think not,” Ahaesarus said, placing his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “The brother deities decided the order was unnecessary. They had learned that granting men that mantle was counterproductive when the gods themselves walked the land. For if that god erred, it would be his very faithful that confronted him.” The Warden pointed at the mound beneath which Bardiya was buried. “With that in mind, it is here, on the very spot where Ashhur’s most faithful servant, the one who was willing to righteously defy him, has been laid to rest, that a new Citadel should be built. It is here that the paladins of Ashhur must come into being.
“You are the best there is. Preston, you and your boys have proven your dedication to Ashhur’s teachings. Allay, you led your people to your god’s side when most others would have sought safety. And Patrick, Ashhur told me time and again that of all his creations, you were the most beautiful. You have shown that through every waking moment of your life.”
Patrick thought of his past, of all the women he had bedded, of all the men he’d killed. He thought of his doubts, of the times he’d cursed Ashhur’s name when the going was rough, of the numerous occasions he had wished for his life to come to end.
“I think you overestimate me,” he said.
“I think not,” retorted Ahaesarus. “I think that if one man embodies all it means to be a child of Ashhur, it is you. Ashhur himself believed it, and so do I.”
All grew silent. Patrick closed his eyes. Ashhur, is this right? He didn’t expect an answer, yet he received one nonetheless. Warmth spread through his belly, extending down his arms and legs, causing his fingers and toes to tremble. He saw Ashhur’s likeness in his mind, hovering over the world and smiling down on him. He saw Nessa and Corton and Bardiya and Tristan, the light surrounding them nearly blinding, their hands reaching out for him, their lips mouthing the same refrain.
You are loved.
Patrick opened his eyes and took a step onto Bardiya’s burial mound. He dropped to his knees. The warmth continued to fill his deformed body. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“I dedicate my life to you, your Grace,” he said, staring at the heavens. “I will be your servant. I will protect your children. I will live my life to the fullest and show others the way. I will call others to join me, and together we will help lead the meek through Afram, until they reach the Golden Forever beyond the stars.”
Allay smiled. Preston nodded firmly. Joffrey, Ryann, and Big and Little Flick slowly got on their knees, themselves looking close to tears. Hands fell on Patrick’s shoulders. Ahaesarus looked down on him with pride.
“It is done,” the Warden said. “You are the first.”
Patrick sniffled. “I guess I am.”
“And for your sacrifice, you have received your reward.”
“My reward?”
Patrick yelped as he felt a sharp, momentary pain in his scalp. He rubbed the sore spot as Ahaesarus leaned over and placed something in Patrick’s palm.
“Your reward.”
Pinching the gift Ahaesarus had given him, Patrick raised it up to his eyes. It was a single hair, long and curly and so silver that it seemed nearly transparent in the bright sunlight. A wide smile came over Patrick’s lips.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”