Ticho clutched her daughter's hand tightly, as she was engulfed in sudden emotions. The last time she was in Amal, Aisha was still a baby in her arms, and Brooke was the one on her side. She felt safe whenever Brooke was around, as he was the one who first gave the wholesome piece to her. Now it was so different, she had only herself as a fortitude. For her army, for her people, and especially for Aisha, although she had a conviction that Aisha slowly growing out of her dependence on her mother, and becoming more and more to be like Brooke.
She quickly set the emotion aside as they approached the Amal townhouse. It was the original purpose of the domed building before it was destroyed. Now it was their headquarter.
"Wait here," she said to the two city ladies, then she kneeled to make herself as tall as Aisha, "you guard these people okay. I won't take long."
"You don't have to order it, Ma," Aisha said with her usual tenacity. She sometimes wondered if Aisha was really that strong, or she was only emulating the resemblance of strength from people around her. There was no time to think about that. They were in a war, in a struggle to change the course of what happened before. She would spend her time with Aisha more when all of this ended.
"Very good," she answered while softly stroke the child's hair. She immediately stood up and pushed the metal double door in front of her, which opened with a loud shriek. She closed it after she stepped into the dimmed building. The somber and cloudy day outside made the amount of light entered the building from its stained glass windows. She could find Pater Greggorr in his usual place: on his knees praying before the altar, facing the statue of five orbs, which each representing a Goddesses.
"Pater," she announced herself, "I have them here."
The Pater didn't answer, only with deliverance stood up and pat the dust from his green-black robe, on the place where it was pressed down by his knees on the altar. He had a slight hunch, as he was old, and he turned around. His face was weathered, with long white hair and facial hair framed around it. His eyes were gray, with no shine left on them. He was almost blind.
"And the man?" Pater asked with his tremendously soft voice, which reverberated through the room, like ghostly whispers.
"He too. Although he was in a coma."
"Oh," Pater groaned which could be interpreted as pain. He looked like he's about to fall down, but he supported himself to the stone podium in front of the Goddesses statue, "how misery always accompanied the chosen ones..." he whispered.
"As it was foretold," Ticho said.
"As it was foretold," Pater confirmed it, "well, what are we waiting for? Bring them in."
"I will, Pater," she said, "but I need to know something first."
Pater tried to straighten his posture to no avail, now grabbing the sides of the podium with both of his wrinkled hands, as if preparing himself to some perceived blow, "yes, child?"
"I lose men," Ticho started. She wanted to tell him that she could not afford to lose more people for their struggles. She wanted to ask when will it stop. She wanted to ask whether or not the peace she was striving for was even real. She wanted to ask if she'd have to endure even more loss if there was even security for Aisha. But she stopped at that statement. She had to be strong.
"I'm aware of that," said Pater.
"Yes, I'm sure you are," she felt a tinge of insurgency in her own voice, so she said it again with a more unassuming tone, "I'm sure you are."
She waited, then, "but... it only happened because for years now we served a false prophet."
Pater only answered in silence, and he moved slowly from the podium towards her, only to it down to one of the wooden long chairs which could still be seated in the room. Only then he answered, "a false prophet Julian is."
"So you knew he was a false prophet?" Ticho confronted him.
"Yes."
The nonchalant of it all. Ticho clutched her arms to fists, "then why did you let us serve him?"
"As you know, my child... Bel works in mysterious ways..."
"With all due respect, Pater, that sounds like more and more like a cop-out."
"Oh. Maybe. Maybe not," Pater let his words sink in before continuing, "That does sound like you are slowly losing your respect, dear. Tell me, are you also losing your faith?"
"No. I'm not," she stated with what she hoped sounds convincing, "I just... I need to know what kind of plan the Goddess had to let me lose my men to fight for someone who is not even Her true prophet. They died in vain."
"Did they?" Pater asked her back, "are you absolutely sure about that?"
"I... I don't know. It seems to be that way," she suddenly regretted her decision to bring this up.
Pater stood up again from his chair and move towards her. He reached both of her palms and caressed them in his. The warmth of his palms tamed the storm inside of her, a storm that she just realized was always there inside of her.
"You are worried about your daughter," Pater whispered, "you are afraid that the spirit of Brooke will leave you."
She didn't answer. She didn't even know what to think. She just felt the tears ran down her cheeks, without first warning her with feelings. The man always went to her heart, long before her frontal cortex registered the words he said.
The man looked into her eyes, study them, then, "I understand, my child. I experienced it many times, your fear, your doubts, your losses. I know it never gets easier."
She inhaled aggressively, and her eyes clouded.
"Oh come now, my poor child," the man embraced her and lead her to sit down beside him, "to be perfectly honest with you, The Goddess never warned me the danger of Julian. I knew when it was already too late. I am deeply sorry for that."
Her sobbing grew louder and uncontrollable. She never knew she had this much pain. Coupled with the happiness that she had when she came back here, she could not make sense of the sensations, she could only just cry.
"But, you have them. You succeeded. The Man is here," he paused, "and after the loss you suffered, you still have your daughter with you, growing more and more to be as strong as you are. Or perhaps, stronger..." the man put his palm on her chin and turned her head towards him gently, "and after all of that, you still come here. I... uh... I don't know what to say rather than... this is all according to Her plans. It all worked out in the end."
She quickly wiped her tears and tried as she might to regain her composure, "yes Pater. I'm sorry to have these doubts. I'm sorry to have this weakness..."
Pater didn't respond. She took note of it and stood up.
"I'll bring them inside," she said.
"Good," Pater finally said, "you do that."
The hole was still there. Ticho made sure she remembered it.