Despite his confidence in the decision to take powerful action against To-gai Yakim Douan went through the rest of that day with little joy, for he understood the truth that his time of Transcendence was slipping back.
He had hoped that he would not have to suffer another winter, even a mild Tacintha wjnter, encased in his aging bones. But that would not be, not even if Yatol Grysh took his new army and killed every rebellion-minded person in To-gai.
The Abellican Church in the north did not move quickly, Douan under-stood. If Father Abbot Agronguerre's health was indeed rallying, then it would be many, many months before they could ever organize and convene a College of Abbots.
For some reason he did not understand, Yakim Douan felt that he should not attempt Transcendence until after the situation in Honce-the-Bear was resolved. The mighty neighboring kingdom seemed at peace, but it had re-cently been ravaged by plague, and the Abellican Church, in particular, had been turned upside down by a supposed miracle.
All that the Chezru Chieftain had seen as a bedrock base of stability seemed to be shifting under his feet.
But old Yakim Douan could accept that. The centuries had taught him, most of all, pragmatism and patience.
This was not the time for him to be-come vulnerable. So be it.
He glanced back once over his shoulder before he entered the circular room that held the sacred chalice, though entering was certainly no breach any rules. He was the God-Voice and could do as he pleased.
Still, when dealing with this chalice, Douan always reminded himself that he was harboring a dark secret that must never be revealed.
He approached the central podium nervously, rubbing his fingers to-gether. Then he stopped and chuckled, considering his posture and expres-sion. To any onlooker, he would look perfectly appropriate, for all the followers of Yatol approached this chalice in this uncertain and reverent manner. The irony was not lost on Yakim Douan, for though he was wear-ing the appropriate mask, he was doing so for very different reasons than his underlings might know. The chalice held nothing of the sacred, or even of the spiritual - in terms of any god-figure - for Yakim Douan. But he held it in no lower esteem. For within this item, within the blood, was the gem-stone that he had learned to master, the secret to his immortality.
What were the gods of the others, if not the hope of that very thing?
As soon as he put his hands about the decorated chalice, Yakim Douan felt the connection to his precious gemstone. Though he had known that it was in there, of course, and though he had known that he could access it, it still came as a relief to him when the connection was realized.
He fell deep within the gemstone and deep within himself, exploring all the corners of his aging physical form.
He found those areas of pain, the clenched muscles and weakened bones and he used the magic of the hematite to bring relief and healing and en-ergy. For a very long while, Yakim Douan stood there, purging his body of impurities and infirmities. He knew that it would be a temporary and im-perfect fix for the one ailment that could never be cured: aging. But this would get him through the next months in relative comfort, until the time came for him to cheat the end result of aging once again.
Merwan Ma came upon Chezru Chieftain Yakim Douan quite by acci-dent that day. He went to the chalice chamber merely to clean the place - for the care of such a sacred area could not be entrusted to mere servants.
He was quite surprised to find Douan in there, so much so, in fact, that he gave a little cry when he noticed the Chezru.
But Yakim Douan, deep into the magic by that point, didn't even hear him.
That lack of response piqued Merwan Ma's curiosity. He scolded himself for intruding upon the God-Voice, and started out of the room, but his natural curiosity held him, for just a bit.
Merwan Ma could not understand what was going on in there, for it was no ritual that the God-Voice had ever related to him. And while he under-stood that Yakim Douan could not be questioned, nor could he err in mat-ters spiritual, something about all of this settled uncomfortably on Merwan Ma's shoulders.
The realization of his discomfort only prompted the loyal servant of Ya-tol to scold himself again and remind himself that he