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. A Knight of Solamnia
rides to Istar to stop this. HE goes with Paladine's blessing."
He knew she did not mean to hurt him by adding that
unconscious emphasis on the word. Perhaps she wasn't even
equating the two of them - the knight who rode with
Paladine's blessing, the cleric who had given up the favor of
his goddess by choosing to stay in this world - but the pain
burned. He said nothing, however.
She might think he was jealous of the knight, but
Michael wasn't, not really. Nikol was not in love with Lord
Soth. She saw in him what she had been raised to see - the
epitome of honor, godliness, nobility. The Oath and the
Measure placed the knights above the faults and foibles of
other, lesser men.
Michael left the castle for a few hours, until his hurt
subsided. Catching fish, wading up to his shins in the
stream, helped him rationalize, understand. Her faith was
touching, childlike. Who was he to destroy it?
"Perhaps, if more had believed as she does, we would
not be facing this dreadful fate," he said to the strange wind
and the cloudless, lead-colored sky.
The night before the Cataclysm, Michael woke from
dreams of fire and blood to find himself prostrate upon the
floor, shivering and sweating. The gods' anger crackled in
the air, rumbled in the empty sky. A timid knock at his door
roused him.
"Are you all right, Brother?" called Nikol.
Michael flung open the door, startled her. She stared at
him, backed up a step. He knew he must look wild,
disheveled - thin from lack of food, bleary-eyed from
sleepless nights
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