The de Bellefeuille residence has turned out for the service this evening, with both the Ladies de Bellefeuille in attendance, and even their two Eeee houseguests beside them in the lines of chairs. Katherine has shown a little of her old enthusiasm for the occasion – the first opportunity she has had to show her sister her favorite new priest.

Seated between the de Bellefeuille Eeee guests, to Katherine's right, sits Elise. It has been some fifteen days since her return from the unpleasant rescue and the elder sister's leg has healed enough to allow her out – though the limb still aches with an obnoxious sort of throb. Since that day Elise has been in higher spirits than she has been for the last month though at times such a elated spirit gives way to a more somber character, and the lady withdraws herself. Such moments have been especially frequent in the times of the investigation following the "incident" aboard the Siren's Tail. Now, however, is not one of those moments. The lady has come to see the new preacher she has heard so much about, and awaits his sermon with quiet anticipation.

As the rest of the audience settles into their places, a bay Rhian in priestly robes strides in from one of the side doors. He carries a sheaf of papers under one arm and a cup in hand. He greets the congregation with a bow of his head, placing his papers and cup on the podium and standing before it as he waits for the murmuring to die down.

"Good evening, people of Rephidim, and thank you for coming this evening," the priest begins. "Tonight I will be speaking on the life of Saint Trinia of the Seven Signs.

"St. Trinia was a Kavi, born some three thousand years ago, in the winter of 3062. Her roots were humble and poor – her mother a prostitute, her father, unknown. But despite her origins, she was devoted to the Temple, and as a child haunted its halls and corridors, ever eager to learn the lore of the First Ones.

"As she grew older, Trinia proved agile and strong, anddemonstrated a surprising talent for handling a sword. One of the Temple guardsmen took her under his tutelage, training her with blade and bow. When she reached her majority, she was accepted into the Temple guard, a role which greatly pleased her. Her devotion to the Temple showed in her work, which was exacting and even-handed in all things. Though she was young, her demeanor and devout behavior caught the eye and approval of many of her superiors

"In the year 3078, five days after Candlemass, when Trinia was just 16 – like all Kavi, she grew to adulthood quickly – she had a dream. In it, she felt herself disembodied, hovering over the planet and looking down on it as if from a great height. While Sinai revolved slowly below her, she looked heavenwards, and saw the Star shining above, as brilliant as the sun. She looked down, and over the continent of Ai, bright lines blazed like white fire, cutting across the land in the shape of a giant Star-and-Anchor. At seven points – the four tips of the Star, its center, and the two ends of the curved anchor – the light blazed strongest, so bright that Trinia felt she would be blinded to look on it.

"She turned away, to the black vault of the sky, and the Star shone on her face. She felt a question form inside her, without words, and it seemed from the sky and the Star, an answer came, felt more than heard. The Star said, GO.

"She awoke, her face wet with tears, her mind filled with wonder." The Rhian priest pauses, taking a sip from his cup.

Quietly Elise listens, ears perking slightly, head tilting to the side in a look of curious attention. She continues to listen, and as she does so, she thinks on the matter of this Kavi and her visions.

The priest shifts a page, and continues, "That morning, Trinia went to the lieutenant in charge of her squad, and told him of her dream, and asked the man what it meant. The lieutenant laughed at her, and told her it meant she should not eat kyootcumber sauce before bed any more." A few members of the audience chuckle.

"Rebuked, Trinia returned to her duties. But for the next ten nights, the same dream continued to come to her, and so, on the eleventh day, she asked leave to speak with her captain of it. Her captain told her, 'Girl, great signs and portents are not for such as you. If the Star and the First Ones would speak with any, it would be with the Captain-Astromancer or the Bridge, not a lowly guard.'

"Again, Trinia bowed her head and acceded to the wishes of her commander. But the dreams did not stop. On the thirty-first day, she begged leave of her captain to present the matter to the Chief of Security.

"Because she had always in the past been a true and faithful servant of the Temple, her captain – though dubious of her claims – agreed.

"The young Kavi went before the Chief of Security, and this is what she said: 'O Sir, I for thirty nights I have dreamed the same dream, and every night it has grown more vivid and clear inside my mind. I have dreamt of a Star-and-Anchor of golden light, splayed across the continent of Ai. At seven points on the figure has the light burned fiercest, and in my dream, always the Star has spoken to me, and bade me: Go.

"'I do not know the import of this, Sir, or what it signifies, but I know what I must do. I must journey to the seven places that have been marked by white fire in my dream. And so, though I have no wish to abandon my duties at the Temple, I must ask your leave to depart, and go where the Star guides me.'"

"The Chief of Security was greatly disturbed when he heard her story. He asked her to wait a sevennight, during which he would bring this matter to the attention of all of the Bridge. Puzzled, Trinia, of course, agreed.

"What he did not tell the Kavi guard was that the Captain Astromancer had told the Bridge at Candlemass: 'This is a season of portents. The First Ones will have a message for us, ere the next holiday comes. We must be watchful for it, though it come to one high or low, and not overlook its significance in our arrogance.'

"When the Bridge met, and these tidings were brought to the Captain Astromancer, he ordered that the Guard Trinia be brought before him and tell her tale. Trinia was nervous and uncertain, but as she spoke of her vision, the clarity of her purpose came to her, and she unfolded it for the Captain Astromancer and the Bridge as plainly and clearly as she could.'

"After she finished, the Captain Astromancer bowed his head in thought. When he lifted it, he granted Guard Trinia leave to pursue her vision. But beyond that, he ordered seven airships and seven platoons accompany and protect her on her quest. He gave her seven Inquisitors knowledgeable in the Lore of the First Ones, to analyze and interpret whatever signs and relics of the First Ones she might find.

"When Trinia left Rephidim upon her quest, she went not only with the Temple's consent, but with their every blessing." Priest Threadar takes a sip from his cup, and removes the top page from his sheets, tucking it underneath the others. He appears to use the pages for occasional reference, not reading from them directly.

Elise casts a glance to her companions as the priest pauses in his story to wet his throat and sort his papers. First she looks to her sister and offers her a brief smile that speaks of the Templar's enjoyment of the sermon. Second, turning from her sister, she casts a curious glance at her two Eeee guests. She does wonder how they find the sermon, since they are from Babel. She imagines such sermons of the Seven Sisters must be quite grim affairs indeed. Before she can open her muzzle to inquire on the topic she finds the priest beginning again and resumes watching him with relaxed attention.

The two dark-furred Eeee seem quiet and attentive to the sermon – or, at least, the mother is. Her son manages to be quiet fairly easily, but it's clear that he's either not following the speech, or bored by it, though his ears perk up as the priest continues with the more "exciting" parts.

"St. Trinia's adventures immediately after that are her best known. The treaty she made with the People of the Eastern Slopes, her battles in the Icelands, her recovery of the Black Sword, and her bravery against the monsters of Himarlea, are still popular tales, even today.

"But such adventures were not without cost, and Trinia lost five of her seven airships over the course of her journey. While she struggled abroad with her quest, back on Rephidim the old Captain Astromancer perished. Shortly after his ascension, the new one ordered the return of her remaining vessels and Templars, though he did not ask for Guard Trinia to return.

"And she did not return. She continued her journey south, following the shaft of Star-and-Anchor of her vision, accompanied by a retired guardsman and a minstrel's apprentice.

"Perhaps if that apprentice had been more knowledgeable in his craft, there would be some popular songs of her final journey." A little ripple of laughter follows the priest's words.

"Perhaps not. Trinia succumbed, in the end, not to the sword of an enemy or the claws of a monster, but to the ravages of disease in the Savan Territories. She never reached the fifth point on her Star-guided voyage."

Near Elise, the little Eeee boy makes a silent face, plainly disappointed by the ending.

Elise nods slightly as the tale seems to conclude – or at least seems to conclude an important part. She shifts to lean closer to her sister, whispering a question without much moving her eyes from the podium. "I do believe I have heard this tale before, long ago … but I do not quite recall if anyone ever did journey to that final point?"

Katherine gives a little shrug, murmuring back, "Didn't father say there were some … er … impressive failed ventures?" She doesn't get farther than that before the priest resumes his sermon.

"The life of St. Trinia of the Seven Signs poses some interesting challenges for us," Killian Threadar says. "Some have called her a failure. Some have remarked on the choice of her honorific – why is she 'of the Seven Signs'? She only uncovered four.

"But St. Trinia's life is all the more illustrative for what she did not do, as for what she did. What makes her a saint is not that she had a vision, or that a Captain Astromancer gave her seven ships and seven platoons and seven Inquisitors to aid her in her quest.

"No, what makes her a saint is that she chose to pursue her vision. She did not act rashly and put herself forth when her superiors cautioned her against doing so. But neither would she abandon what she knew to be right.

"It did not matter to her whether all the Temple backed her with man, ship, and steed, or whether she strode unaccompanied into the wilderness. When the Captain Astromancer recalled the ships she had been lent, she did not wail or bemoan her fate. She did not beg him to let her keep them 'just a little longer.' She acceded to the will of Temple and Captain, as is right and proper in any citizen. She had not asked for the ships to be provided. She did not demand that any other believe in the vision she had been sent, even now, after she had discovered signs of the First Ones at four of the places of her dream.

"We can wonder, now, if she was wise. Was it folly to continue her quest alone? Would it have been wiser to look for aid elsewhere – private backing from some noble, perhaps, if the Temple could no long support her?

"But remember what Trinia is known for: her faith, her steadfast nature, her perseverance. She was not a persuader of minds, and she had no gifts for tongues. She was a simple Kavi, a young woman, who knew her days would be short, as with all her kind. Trinia chose to direct her own fate alone; she knew that she could go into the wilderness, and she could not know that she could persuade any to come with her.

"In so doing, it is true, she died. She left her quest unfinished.

"But yet, she died doing what she knew was right. She died knowing that though her vision was unrealized, she had done everything in her power to make it come to pass. She had given unstintingly of herself. She had held nothing back.

"Every day, all around us, people are failing. We are failures in little ways and great. We forget to go to Temple, we neglect our duty to our families, we break a dish at breakfast, we take poor notes – we mess up. Most often our failures are of little consequence, it seems. But how often are those failings despite our best efforts? How often do you look back and think, 'I should have done it differently?'

"And that is the lesson of St. Trinia of the Seven Signs: she lived a life without regrets."

Priest Threadar takes his papers and his cup from the podium, and bows to the audience. "Thank you, and good night. May the blessings of the First Ones be with us all."

Midway through the description of what Saint Trinia had been remembered for the elder sister's head lowers, and her brow narrows as her gaze seems to search somewhere far away – as if looking for something … but something vision cannot find. She blinks as she seems to stir from her thoughts as the sermon concludes, apparently surprised by the fact, and returns her attention to the podium and those with her.

Familiar rites in praise of the First Ones, led by the Technopriesthood, follow Killian Threadar's sermon. Elise can't help but notice that the rites engage the attention of the audience less than the sermon had. When they are finished, the members of the congregation hasten to their feet gratefully. Many linger either in the hall or just outside, stretching and chatting with one another, while others hurry out. Priest Threadar stands in a small knot of people, talking to them, his Rhian stature the only thing that ensures his visibility.

"I do believe I am going to go see Priest Threadar," mentions Elise once she is fully standing. She glances to her sister first, then her guests, and as she moves to limp that way pauses long enough to add, "Would any of you care to join me?"

Katherine offers her arm to her sister. "Not one of his better sermons," she says, regretfully. "You'll have to come see him in finer form, Elise. He's … not quite as impressive in person," she adds, though she appears willing to escort Elise to the little crowd gathered around him. "For one, he's a bit … deficient in his grasp on the proper order of society."

The Eeee woman, Mrs. Krodos, smiles briefly at Katherine's pronouncement.

The elder de Bellefeuille sister smirks at that, laughing a little. "Indeed? Well, I suppose I shall see for myself." She takes her sister's arm and with her support proceeds towards the priest.

Keyni looks to his mother with pleading green eyes, and she bows in deference to the two poodle ladies. "If you will excuse me," Mrs. Krodos says, "I will catch a little fresh air, my ladies."

As the head of the de Bellefeuille household proceeds, she glances back and inclines her head to the two Eeee. "Very well. I shall not be long," she tells them before resuming her walk.

The younger lady de Bellefeuille looks more grateful to have the Eeee gone than they are to leave. Once she gets Elise to the edge of the crowd of eight or ten people around Threadar, she immediately attracts the attention of an acolyte to get a chair for Elise. Though the older sister wasn't expecting such attention, the need for it soon becomes apparent. Threadar takes the questions from those around him in turn, with little regard for the rank of the asker or the importance of those still waiting.

The lieutenant in the Guard takes a seat with much relief, finding the wait difficult upon her much abused leg. Though waiting, Elise does not exactly pose a question. She simply watches the Rhian with a considering expectance – a question in the form of a look.

One young mongoose shifts from foot to foot as the priest listens to a lupine merchant relate his recent troubles with his shop. Though the man's tale doesn't appear to have any connection to the sermon or the First Ones, Threadar listens to it with equanimity. When the wolf finally winds to his conclusion – which appears to be that all is well now – Threadar smiles approvingly.

The Kavi seizes the pause to interject, "Was she really a Kavi? St. Trinia, I mean? I didn't know there were any Kavi saints!"

The seated lady poodle folds her hands careful on her lap and cocks her head as she listens, not offering a question or a comment, waiting and watching with silent attention.

The bay Rhian nods to the boy, treating the query as seriously as the earlier story. "Absolutely. The First Ones work through peoples of all races – St. Trinia of the Seven Signs isn't the only Kavi to be sainted, either. The important thing to focus on is not her race, however, but her deeds and how – "

"Yes, yes, of course," a vulpine noble interrupts. "That's all very true. But, what's more, whatever were the last three signs? Did anyone ever find them? Or was it all just in her head?"

The equine's mild smile wilts at the edges under the force of the interruption, but he continues gamely on with only a nod and a "One moment, my lord," to the fox. "And how she chose to accept the vision that was given to her. We must all look for the signs of the First Ones working in our own lives, and choose whether we will accept Their guidance and obey Their will, or reject it and be misled into folly."

"But it wasn't folly to get killed by disease?" a Khatta interjects slyly.

Killian Threadar turns about to fix the feline with his gaze. In a heavy, serious voice, he replies, "There are worse follies than death."

The little crowd around the equine ripples with laughter, and the Khatta's ears flatten against her head. She ducks her chin and sidles away. A few others leave at about the same time, including the satisfied-looking Kavi, and the noble fox, who appears to have gone off in a huff at being put off.

To her sister, Elise offers, "Doing what one thinks one should do, at the cost of one's life, at the cost of how one might be seen: I think it rather applies." Though to who or what it applies is left unspoken, Katherine has listened to her sister muse long enough to catch the introspective tinge in her sister's voice and understand that "who" or "what" is Elise herself.

"A pleasure to see you again, Lady de Bellefeuille," Priest Threadar greets Katherine, with no one else immediately vying for his attention.

At the greeting, Elise casts her gaze to her younger sister – deferring to her in the matter of greeting and introductions this time.

"It was good to hear you speak as always, Father," Katherine says, as she gives a curtsey. "But I am only Lady Katherine again. My sister has returned from her long absence. Elise, this is Priest Killian Threadar. Father, this is my elder sister, the Lady Elise de Bellefeuille."

"I am honored to meet you at last, Lady de Bellefeuille," the priest says, bowing to her. "I have heard much about you from your sister."

With a small effort the lady returns to her feet, straightening long enough to incline her head respectfully to the Priest and give him a more reserved form of curtsey. "It is good to meet you as well, Priest Threadar," she greets the man. Unlike her sister Elise uses his name and rank, a reflex from having served the Temple for these last few years. "I was not disappointed. You are quite the speaker, much as my sister has said of you."

"Thank you. It is my calling," the priest answers, as if that were all that needed to be said on the subject.

"I found the subject of your sermon most … " The elder sister seems to search on a word, and after a moment seems to find it. "… comforting. Reassuring, in a way. Yes, I fear the matter of following what one believes is correct is a subject that has weighed heavily upon me these last few weeks. Undoubtedly you have heard from my sister, or if not her, rumor and report. We have had a most trying time."

The priest nods gravely in reply. "So I have heard. I am grateful for Katherine's safe return after such a terrible trial." He speaks with both sympathy and reserve, and Elise can tell even from a few minutes of speech that unrehearsed words do not come as easily to him The Rhian takes care before deciding what to say.

"A trial indeed," says Elise, and there is a tinge of the indignance in her voice. "A trial is the matter of it. Tell me, Priest Threadar, the message of the Saint was following the path we find laid out for us. I have come to think that such paths, as her path was, are often strewn with thorns and fraught with doubters – hers was a holy path and a mission – epic, as stories go. What if one's path strays far from the epic? To the doubted, to the disfavored? Does one pursue it? Or does one step from it to walk where others would walk?"

"That depends. I note, for example, that St. Trinia did not waver from her course even when the Captain Astromancer retracted her Temple ships and servants. Though her path became much more difficult without them, she still knew that this was her task." On this subject the priest seems more sure-footed. "However, she was never forbidden from pursuing her vision. When her lieutenant and captain told her 'Your place is here,' she stayed with them at the Temple. Not until the Captain-Astromancer gave her leave to go did she leave. And this, of course, is one good test of the rightness of one's course: Does the Temple approve?"

Elise inclines her head slightly to the point. "Yes, I see." She considers a moment, organizing her thoughts before she continues. "I will say that my path is tangled one, but I see it a bit clearer now. Thank you, Priest Threadar. I believe I have taken enough of your time." She glances to her sister and smiles faintly. "Come Katherine, let us not keep the widow Krodos and her son waiting."

The priest, warmed to his subject, seems ready to add more, but at Elise's nod, he merely bows. "Good evening to you, my ladies," he bids them with a farewell wave.

"Good evening," Elise bids the priest. Once again the lady takes up her sister's arm and with her help proceeds to limp towards the isle on her way out. Never again, she swears to herself as she goes. I lost my faith in the Temple, and it nearly cost me everything. Never again.

On their return to the manor, Elise finds a few letters awaiting her. Among the usual Temple correspondence and invoices from shopkeepers, two things stand out: a letter from Babel, and a gilt-edged invitation with the seal of the Dunbarre estate upon it.

"A letter from Babel?" Elise asks out loud of no one in particular. She sits at her desk in the library, several books arrayed around her so that she might busy herself without straining her leg overmuch. But now letters capture her attention, and both quite interesting to her. She busies herself with opening the letter from Babel first, thinking of its potential importance. The door of the library has been left open allowing free admittance to any who chooses to visit her, but for the moment she enjoys her correspondence alone.

The letter from Babel, as it turns out, is a short note from Cyprian.

The lady smiles as she finishes reading the later. "Ah … Cyprian," she says, unaware of the fact she speaks the comment with more than a hint of the wistful. I will need write him back, and tell his family he wrote. She considers also mentioning his best wishes to her sister but decides against it. With her recent kidnapping, mentioning Cyprian's name might be more than slightly unwelcome. The mage's letter is folded neatly and placed within a nearby book she intends to finish later, and the second letter is picked up and opened that she might review its contents.

Breaking the seal reveals that the gilt-edged envelope holds a simple engraved card. On it, the Lord Jean Dunbarre formally requests the pleasure of Lady Elise de Bellefeuille's company in joining him at the Lord di Medici's Ring-Day party.

The lady peers at the card and smirks, shaking her head for a moment before lifting it to call out, "Katherine? Katherine! Are you about, my sister?"

A Rath'ani head pokes through the doorway in response – a maid who quickly curtsies to her mistress. "Would my lady like me to fetch her sister?" she inquires politely. "My lady's sister is reading in the parlor, I believe."

"Please do," answers Elise, card in hand.

A few minutes later, Katherine enters the study. "What is it, Elise?"

Elise turns the card over in her hand and offers it to her sister. "I do fear someone has been quite busy … " The elder sister gives her younger sibling an amused accusing look. "I have been called upon."

The younger poodle takes the card, a quizzical look on her face that turns to surprise as she reads it. "The di Medici's Ring Day party?" she reads, blinking. "You have been busy! I hardly expected either of us to be invited this year, under the … well… But of course, your sweet Lord Dunbarre has a hand in this." She smiles and flutters her eyelashes at Elise coyly.

"You, my sister, are deceptively sly. Does Lord de Ayde know of this? Perhaps I ought to warn the poor man." Elise shakes her head in mock-disapproval for a moment before returning to a more casual, and less teasing, smile. "It would appear he has. And likely someone had a hand in that, most certainly. But plotting aside, I do fear I am unprepared. Whatever should I do, Katherine? I am quite versed in avoiding and denying such requests, but accepting? I hardly know where to begin."

Katherine perches on the edge of the desk, "You start by saying, 'yes,' Elise. It's quite simple, really. Spelled 'Wy-ee-ess' – " She pauses in her teasing abruptly, to direct another querulous look at Elise. "What do you mean, does Grant know about me being sly? I'm not the one who wrangled an invitation to the most important Social Event on Ring Day."

Elise gives her sister another variation on her early amused expression, this one partially to appear annoyed. A look punctuates it, but she seems genuinely to enjoy the banter. That is until Katherine mentions that she had no part in the card or the interests of its sender. "You mean to tell me you had no hand in this?" she inquires, disbelieving.

The younger poodle shakes her head, her short curls – not yet grown out to even as long as her ears – bouncing with the motion. "Not at all. Are you trying to tell me you didn't? And Lord Dunbarre just, out of the blue, decided to ask you to the Ring Day celebration?"

Elise gives her sister a considering stare, then simply leans back and shakes her head as well. Her own hair had been cut and styled by magic as well as by blade during hertime in bed, and in a somewhat un-poodle-like fashion hangs in loose wavy strands about her head. A short hair look suited for quick styling and helmets that manages to look fine enough for Elise though it certainly does not meet her sister's exacting standards. The magically altered hair growth simply deviates too far from poodle curl and Gallisian style fads of the day. "No, I had nothing to do with this. Not a word. Could it be Lord Dunbarre has found it in himself to call upon me of his own volition?"

The other poodle gives this idea serious consideration, then shakes her head. "No, I cannot credit it," she says, dismissively waving a hand. "Some force must have been at work. Indigo, perhaps. I can only say that it is a good thing he has not seen you since Caroban. Even now, t'would not surprise if he took one look at your poor hair and retracted the invitation."

The elder sister gives a indignant snort. "My hair, dear sister, is a look of practicality. Have you any idea what a helmet does to ones hair? Or how little consideration an airship gives to fashion? This is a much more utilitarian style and I happen to like it. Lord Dunbarre ought to at least appreciate how well suited it is to my career. Men often prefer such practicality to long-prepared whimsicals." She tilts her nose up. "If such a man is to call upon me, he should be well prepared for my horrors – there, sister, horrors. Hmpf. Where was I … Ah, yes I do believe Indigo would have no hand in this. She would not think to be so sly it is against the nature of her devotion."

Katherine looks at her relation for some moments following Elise's declarations. At last, she replies, "All I will say, Elise, is that it is a good thing you are of noble breeding and heiress to a great fortune." She taps the card against the desk thoughtfully, then shrugs her shoulders. "I cannot think who else it might be. There seem to be few indeed among the Temple who would speak well of us of late … " She shrugs again, then adds, "In all seriousness, Elise, would you like my assistance in composing your answer?"

"I would indeed if the answer does not consist mainly of reminding Lord Dunbarre of my blood and fortune, while downplaying my apparently vast faults," answers Elise.

The other lady tilts her head to one side, then scoots off the desk. "No, I believe that covers it," she says, cheerfully. "Since you clearly know just what to do, I will return to my reading!" Katherine wiggles her fingers in farewell, walking towards the door.

From behind Katherine there comes the sound of felt sliding across wood, then the creak of a chair as weight is shifted upon it, and finally the stirring of air as a small cushion sails across the room after the younger sister.