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Maman set my course for
me, though I doubt she will ever know that. I was
despondent for weeks. Partly because I grieved for
my friend. But mainly because her being was not
fulfilled. She had not met her own requirements of
service to the spirits and her clan. Her life was
unfinished.
Then maman chided me for my surly behavior.
"You'll find new friends," she said. "Friends of
your own kind."
"She was only a stupid barbarian," is what my
mother did not say. And
she said it so forcefully that it filled the
silence between us.
I knew then that she would not understand. That
she was not able to
understand. In so knowing, I was able to forgive
her even while I resolved to turn my back on
everything she had planned for me.
I began my pilgrimage not by traveling North, but
by heading east, across the mountains, to the
temple of Erollisi Marr. With my temple background
and Maura's training I worked to become a paladin,
learning to fight with weapons of steel and
priestly magic.
Training complete, I bade the temple farewell, to
return to the west, but not before dedicating my
life to the Mother of the Northmen, taking the
name, in my mother's tongue, of "Fire of Marr".
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