I said the most personal of prayers to the goddess. Just to know she heard them, whether or not she might grant them is enough.

My hands feel so cold they have all but welded themselves to my rapier. My feet are like lead encased in ice. I am bone cold and bone tired. I find my sight has started to play tricks with me. The reflection of Sunrifter on the snow makes me see all manner of things that are not there. I see faces of those long since seen in the snow flakes swirling about me. It has got to the point where I welcome the night even though the temperature plunges even further as my eyes get some rest from the glare. I confess that my resolve weakens slightly - I went into the hut last night and slept by the fire. He did not seem to mind, but then such kindness is always shown to all. Nothing has been disturbed; all is quiet. If the Dark One mistakes kindness for weakness He will be rudely disappointed. I must speak to Knight Azure about portals. Perhaps - if my attempts to stop any evil from entering are…unsuccessful…. then a portal could be used for escape: not for me, but for him. I should not have left the entrance unguarded.

As my mind wanders in the dark I have imagined myself back in that dark cave in the forest. Trapped and terrorised even though Her Majesty was so calm. That cannot, will not, happen to this hut.

My new robes do give me courage. Sometimes when I screw my eyes up against the snow I see threads of red as I did in Her cave. Still I have Cory’s light within my power. Darkness has not yet managed to kill that light.

What does dear Purazon do? Where does his path lie? I know he will be walking it with purpose and with that fire I saw in his eyes. My steps seem to have ground to a halt. Soon he will be in the distance. Will I be able to catch up, I wonder?

Blessed Cory, Beloved Miranda – tell me what to do.

The fog of my lack of sleep clouded my mind and I can scarce believe what I woke to. Did it even happen? The Holy Order of Light has been destroyed. Not be the hands of men or gods, but demons and Balthazar. I heard it and went there with leaden feet. It was true. The rooms that I have spent so much time in meditating, and even said prayers at the close of that first Sunrifter Festival, all gone. The library destroyed. Rubble and dirt everywhere; the temple tainted by the foul presence of the perpetrators. And what now will people think? Those that did this terrible thing entered the temple, that hallowed place, disguised as healers: disguised as those that people can call on in their terrible need. Yes, disguising themselves as pilgrims carrying the gods gifts of healing they came, then tore off their costumes revealing the demon filth they really were. Then the Dark Lord Himself, threatening further atrocity. Will all in cleric robes be looked on in the same way?

I was not there to see it all. I have only heard. When I got to the temple there was a scene of devastation and confusion. All manner of hopeless talk about the temples and what on Valorn could be done. Yet right there, among the crowd, was Beloved Miranda with all her divine spark. What are walls? Piles of brick and stone: nothing more. What is a building? Just a place for a purpose to be centred on; it is not the centre itself! I felt an anger rush through me. Here She was in all her divine majesty, and yet talk of what happens if a temple disappears. She was still there; still among her people. It makes no difference except as a show of strength of evil. It is indeed a most evil act, but an inn could become a temple. Any guild that has a house of worship has a temple! A temple gone does not mean the gods and goddesses have! Well if it was the evil one’s intention to throw panic amongst all folk it seems to have worked. Hither and thither folk were rushing to temples. I myself travelled to Branishor having first gone to Virgil’s side to make sure he was well. It was so quiet there. All was calm and as it ever was. I knelt and prayed and for a moment I could believe it to not have happened. Kathryn’s face was so calm and spiritual. I could have stayed there but nagging doubts made me get up.

I heard whispers everywhere about what Balthazar’s words had meant. If only I had heard them first hand. Some believe clerics to be in danger. I half hope I am – it would be a purpose. It would also mean the other professions were safe. What did the goddess’s words mean? I think I recall them as being ‘All healers are clerics, but not all clerics are healers’. Was it meant to sound a warning note for those not doing their duty by their gifts? How I wish Elijah had been there to enlighten us. Is he even safe?

My feet travelled of their own accord. I wanted to see him safe. The mountain air cut straight through me and the snow chilled my feet even in my magna boots. My armour and weapons felt heavier than they have ever done. I can scarce believe I can hold myself up. When I got there, my deep fear subsided for a moment. The light was still shining out into the night like a tiny beacon of hope in that lonely place. I went in and sat silent for a moment. The walls were undisturbed. The fire was still lit. The quiet light in his eyes was still untroubled. I wondered if he had heard the news in this isolated place. Not my place to tell him. I accepted his kind hands and then stationed myself out here where I will remain. This healer will not be next. Over my dead, cold body.

News was delivered to me quickly, cleanly and factually. I am grateful for it. They had other things to do than waste time on words for me. I understand now some of the fire in those dear eyes. I feel it too. I am angry. This shall not pass un-avenged. No. None of the things that have passed will go un-avenged.

I must stay awake; stay strong. I must be ready.