Despite himself, pride surged through Armande as he beheld Valeriya on her knees before him, kissing his hand, Rowan at his back, massaging his shoulders. Not at the actual physical submission they expressed. Valeriya was not weak in any way and and even kneeling, the word submissive refused to fit. Her eyes said as much the way they blazed challenge and she spoke of taking the hide of Patricus. And yet, there she was all the same, this lioness, pledging to follow him, extolling him. It was thrilling in a way he did not expect. Not solely her posture, anyway. He still was a man, after all. He was no longer interested in making excuses for his feelings, as if his humanness and masculinity were somehow wrong. No.
But far more than simply their actions, what filled him with pride and a sense of pregnant power was what it all meant. These powerful women followed him by their choice. They trusted him to lead. They- the Black and the White Eye- had seen beyond, had shared their sight with him. They were his Eyes and they had pierced the veil, had seen his role.
This was who and what he was, the tool of the...pattern was the term that most fit. That weaving of reality and souls into an incomprehensible tapestry. Their role, he amended.
It was a new kind of Trinity. Not God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost of traditional Christianity; not Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver and Shiva the Destroyer of Hinduism; not the Lord of Wisdom Ahura Mazda, Mithra the Binder and the Goddess Anahita, the Source of the River of Life and Fertility of Zoroastrianism.
The closest, maybe, were the Morai or the Norns. Which made him laugh to himself. He one of the three women who see beyond, telling or setting fate, depending on the need? The image was amusing.
And yet...
Perhaps they were not the first time the Pattern had used a triad. Maybe those legends were mere echoes of that possibility. It did not diminish the role they would play. Not in the slightest.
He smiled at Valeriya, nodding, his eyes cool fires of possibility. "He will be civil, my Love. He faces the Black Queen and the White Queen, you who see beyond. The three of us..." tilting his head to the side to include Rowan. "The Pattern has chosen us three. As before, so again." He paused, the words of the Congregator coming to mind.
"What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun."
It was a heady thing to contemplate. He spoke to Rowan. "There is no need to go anywhere, Dearest. He will meet us on our journey. He has been called, you see."
He touched a finger to the console and a map displayed. their location near Lake Baikal clearly marked with a red flag. The Naval of the World. Over the it, he overlaid the image from the reindeer skin map. That one was artistically stylized- it didn't fit perfectly in regard to distance proportions and shapes. And he had had to use geological databases to reconstruct various land configurations over the last 10,000 years. Between the two, though, the map he now displayed showed the route they were to take.
Their endpoint hung in the air to the north west. It had been something he suspected as the watched the various permutations run through. It seemed almost...poetic. Tunguska. Only 140 years ago- not coincidentally near when Rasputin had hidden away the Khylsty, he had noticed- the event had shocked everyone. A meteor exploding over the Siberian Taiga, the Kremlin had said.
It was no accident, though. Something had happened. The fact that an ancient map millenias old point to that location made it plain.
He pointed. "He will meet us here." He smiled and raised an eyebrow at Valeriya. "Paradise was the word you said, my Love. We are going to meet him in paradise."
But far more than simply their actions, what filled him with pride and a sense of pregnant power was what it all meant. These powerful women followed him by their choice. They trusted him to lead. They- the Black and the White Eye- had seen beyond, had shared their sight with him. They were his Eyes and they had pierced the veil, had seen his role.
This was who and what he was, the tool of the...pattern was the term that most fit. That weaving of reality and souls into an incomprehensible tapestry. Their role, he amended.
It was a new kind of Trinity. Not God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost of traditional Christianity; not Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver and Shiva the Destroyer of Hinduism; not the Lord of Wisdom Ahura Mazda, Mithra the Binder and the Goddess Anahita, the Source of the River of Life and Fertility of Zoroastrianism.
The closest, maybe, were the Morai or the Norns. Which made him laugh to himself. He one of the three women who see beyond, telling or setting fate, depending on the need? The image was amusing.
And yet...
Perhaps they were not the first time the Pattern had used a triad. Maybe those legends were mere echoes of that possibility. It did not diminish the role they would play. Not in the slightest.
He smiled at Valeriya, nodding, his eyes cool fires of possibility. "He will be civil, my Love. He faces the Black Queen and the White Queen, you who see beyond. The three of us..." tilting his head to the side to include Rowan. "The Pattern has chosen us three. As before, so again." He paused, the words of the Congregator coming to mind.
"What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun."
It was a heady thing to contemplate. He spoke to Rowan. "There is no need to go anywhere, Dearest. He will meet us on our journey. He has been called, you see."
He touched a finger to the console and a map displayed. their location near Lake Baikal clearly marked with a red flag. The Naval of the World. Over the it, he overlaid the image from the reindeer skin map. That one was artistically stylized- it didn't fit perfectly in regard to distance proportions and shapes. And he had had to use geological databases to reconstruct various land configurations over the last 10,000 years. Between the two, though, the map he now displayed showed the route they were to take.
Their endpoint hung in the air to the north west. It had been something he suspected as the watched the various permutations run through. It seemed almost...poetic. Tunguska. Only 140 years ago- not coincidentally near when Rasputin had hidden away the Khylsty, he had noticed- the event had shocked everyone. A meteor exploding over the Siberian Taiga, the Kremlin had said.
It was no accident, though. Something had happened. The fact that an ancient map millenias old point to that location made it plain.
He pointed. "He will meet us here." He smiled and raised an eyebrow at Valeriya. "Paradise was the word you said, my Love. We are going to meet him in paradise."