Ca’armine wakes in his lean-to, it’s still pitch dark all around, the only sounds are the crickets, and his own fast breathing—the undead alligator-monster isn’t likely to leave his restless nightmares for some time to come. At least tonight, he was not inside the jaws.
Ca’armine rises, and ducks out from under his rude shelter. In a moment he can see occasional stars overhead. He makes his way in the dark, toward the bank of the river. Looks out over the water. A fish jumps, but otherwise the landscape is still.
The dream having faded, Ca’armine has a moment to take a deep breath and stretch his weary shoulders. The opportunity to sleep, and rest—sure, not in a bed, but not in the sewers again, either!—such luxury. Though he can’t get it out of his head that he and his friends were still vulnerable, in the background, at this moment the thought of danger fades. Here he stands, not carrying a weapon, or wearing any armor, for the first time in what seems like a long time.
The last days in the city seem far away now. Every corner they had turned, an enemy was waiting for them! His sense that there were no safe paths of travel had unfortunately proved correct. Thankfully, Alexis had reluctantly accepted that another trip to the Collegium, or any other destination including their hideout, would result in another battle. Seeing wisdom, that gift Raiden had given him. Not always, could he convince others to listen. His new Captain was beginning to heed his advice.
That thought gratifies Ca’armine, as he stares up into the night sky.
He feels a warm breeze at his back. Puzzled he turns—nothing is there—but when he turns back, there is a radiant figure in front of him.
“Raiden!” he whispers, dropping to his knees suddenly. A moment passes.
He looks up. The figure has disappeared.
The Presence, however, stays with him. He stands, feeling both strong and light in that moment. “Raiden, lord, thank you for blessing me with a vision of your form.” He looks up at the sky again, feeling the blessing surrounding him.
The next day, starting his morning routine, the memory is with him. The Presence felt very real, moreso than spending time with any human he had yet met. It had faded with the stars, but when he reaches for it now, the memory is strong.
On reflection later in the afternoon he realizes that the sensation of the Presence was essentially, the opposite of how he had felt about his faith when he met the heroes he now calls his team-mates, at Mavon’s castle. Then, he had been conflicted in his faith. The visage of Raiden was clear to him, but it was also artificial—the paintings he had seen at the Temple, for example. He had been avid for Raiden’s blessing, but “Raiden” had been a figure he had read about, heard about, learned about at church and from his Father’s catechism. He was terrified that he had made a dire mistake, leaving the Raidensblud and forsaking their ideas about what “Raiden” commanded; was that what Raiden wanted for him? He had felt that it was, but it was as if he had yet to complete that conversation with his deity.
Now, he feels, the conversation has happened and he is reassured. Raiden is not a figure, only; He is a Presence that accompanies Ca’armine now. When Ca’armine reaches out for the power to heal, Raiden is present and provides instantly, instinctively. He feels sure.
Ca’armine practices the sword forms, practices with his bow. He reflects on the martial nature of Raiden’s Presence. It is right to stay in training, right to keep one’s blade sharp. Raiden doesn’t choose war, War is chosen for him, to protect humanity—and so it is for Ca’armine. It is wrong to allow evil to flourish, or even establish a root. Evil chooses violence, oppresses the weak and helpless. To be strong for good, one must not shrink from that violence, lest Evil prevail. The swords whirl, as he trains. Today, he is not using the blades to kill. This is a good day, therefore.
Finishing his training for the day, he takes a dip in the river to rinse off, and takes out some rations for his mid-day meal. Prayer will occupy the majority of the rest of his day, seeking to understand the nature of Raiden’s plan for him and his place in the greater scheme. Over the meal however, he is thinking about the team with which he is now aligned, and his place within it.
He senses that the Southroni comrades are loathe to leave the city, and he feels for them. He was similarly conflicted when he left Aegir, to come find these heroes. Ca’armine advocated for the team to leave because of their safety, and the safety of the less puissant comrades with whom they had aligned themselves (Mavon first among them), but as he chews the hard tack into pieces small enough to swallow, he acknowledges a yearning inside him, to be doing something. Not just reacting to circumstances, or taking up small tasks to curry favor with people who might be able to point them in the right direction.
Wisdom in this moment, is in conflict he realizes. He wants to attack the Dark Hand, eliminate Bandesingh and in so doing, cripple the foe that has corrupted the Raidensblud and all of Aegir. But how to do that? Sitting there on the ground, looking at the river, he admits that he himself has no idea where to start. He is convinced that Bandesingh is in Aegir, not in Southron, but he has to admit he has no source for that information. In other words, leaving Southron is wise because it is better than the alternative, but having no sure direction to travel, he is still only reacting to circumstance.
So, it is wise to leave Southron… but is it wise to travel back to Aegir? He resolves to take this up with the team when next they meet. Maybe they will eat together at sunset.
As he starts his prayerful observance, this thought is still on his mind, and it occurs to him to ask Raiden for guidance in this moment. Show me the path, he prays, as he feels the suffusing warmth of his connection to his deity. Raiden, your presence is near to me and gives me comfort. Now I implore you… show me the path. Show me what you need me to see, so that I can serve you and protect humanity from the scourge now using your Name to oppress the weak. At first he doesn’t notice that he is engaging his magical energy in this prayer, but when he does sense it, he puts his heart into the request, using all of his focus to send this prayer to Raiden—Show me the path!!
