Mellia — Weeper
????, Fire Season, Season/Illusion Week
Fire Season/Illusion Week/Clayday/early morning, a while after Strange Foreign Discussion, in the Cinder Fox Temple of Orlanth. [[[s01:session-42|Session 42]]]
Dormal waits at a small distance from the altar.
Mellia is, as advertised, is in the Lightbringers’ temple, kneeling before the altar of Chalana Arroy. At the sound of Dormal’s footsteps, she comes out of meditation. She gets up and sits in one of the chairs, with a chair nearby for Dormal. Yes, she’s been crying.
Dormal sits down.
“So. Want to talk about it?”
Mellia nods. “It’s that horrible Hero Quest, the one that keeps finding us. I want you to know that I forgive everyone involved.”
“That sounds like the kind of thing people say before they do something risky. Not planning to be a martyr, are you?”
“I already was,” Mellia admits. “I interfered in that Hero Quest. I think I saved a life, but I got hit.”
“Ah. What happened? And can I talk you out of martyring yourself?”
“Eril confronted his father in the Hero Plane,” Mellia begins. “He could barely stand, Dormal. He had a horrible cut over one eye, a low fever and was exhausted. I kept begging them to stop and finally had to get between them.”
“Oof. That sounds nasty. Are you all right now? What were they fighting about?”
“I couldn’t hear what they said, but I have a nasty feeling it wasn’t the first fight those two had had. It was their last, though.”
“Their last? Did he…” Dormal makes a throat cutting gesture.
“Wait, a cut? Here?”
Dormal lowers his voice.
“A cut where Silor’s son is scarred?”
“If his father had punched instead of slapped, if he hadn’t hit my shoulder, he would have killed his son. Yes, Eril had a cut exactly where Venlar is scarred.” Mellia was already talking quietly.
“Mmh. That’s… weird. An echo of kin-strife? Some sort of ancestor spirit curse?”
“Maybe,” Mellia says. “I don’t know. Irillo, once we returned to the world, apologized. Our host is broken-hearted.”
“Silor? What’s he upset about?”
“He was playing the part of his father and does not forgive himself, even though we both explained things and I forgave him.”
“Ah. That’s hard.”
Mellia nods. “So here I am, asking the Lady of Mercy to forgive us all.”
“Well. Apparently I’m a terrible person and a bad influence, but for what it’s worth I don’t think there’s anything to forgive. We’re all being cast in roles with their lines already written. We didn’t do these things, we’re just walking in ruts worn by someone else’s feet.”
Mellia gives Dormal a watery smile. “Thanks.”
“And really you’re a better person than most for even feeling you need forgiveness for someone else’s deeds done long ago. Maybe even before you were born.”
“Thank you, Dormal. I’m tempted to send you to Silor. He won’t forgive himself.”
“Well… I’m happy to talk to him, but I’m not noble or anything. Would he even see me? Or listen?”
“He’d probably see you. The big question is, will he listen?”
“If you think it will help, I’ll try.”
“It may help him, which is important.”
“Alright. Just let me know when.”
After a moment or two, Dormal leaves.