In the Balance of Faith Part One
Fifteenth Day of the Ninth Month 293 AC
After some thought and discussion the six of you conclude that it would not be wise to directly approach Septa Maer again, though you do question fate and fortune to see if she or any of her inner circle had been compelled or enchanted by any arcane means. Yet when the smoke clears you do not have near as many answers as you may have hoped, for the answer to every question you had asked had been 'no'. She had not been enchanted or compelled, nor had her memories been tampered with. As far as you can tell she had not even been persuaded through uncommon charisma such as you had used while spreading tales about Lucan.
"That last question comes very close to being about
Lucan rather than Maer," Dany points out as she clears away the smoke with a wave of her hand. "Actually, wait, we can try this. Leto, can you stand there while Viserys tries to convince you of something?"
"As my lady commands," there might be the barest hint of amusement in her tone. Even the Hound gives a hint of smile.
"What should I try to convince her
of?" you ask, playing along.
"Let's stick to the classics shall we, a postulate for the verdant sky."
That does earn actual laughter, but jest or no the answer proves her suspicion, the conversation 'belongs' in some abstract manner equally to both Lucan and Maer, and thus the contents of said conversation is veiled from simple divination.
***
Sixteenth Day of the Ninth Month 293 AC
So it is that you don the mask of Brother Dywen and set out towards the Starry Sept once more, alone in body though not wholly in spirit. Ser Richard had insisted that you keep in constant
contact throughout the day, to which Dany had added a
sorcerous binding that would allow her to see through your eyes so that you would not be distracted explaining what you were seeing and hearing. So warded against the eyes of mortal men and deathless spirits both you join the septons streaming towards the Father's Gates, flanked by Hightower armsmen in gleaming mail, hiding their nervousness behind stern expressions. You naturally fall in with Septon Kyle's faction since the last thing you would wish to imply is excessive independence before you had been recognized to speak.
"No wards so far," you call back to Dany and the others knowing that your sister's sight does not extend beyond the merely physical. You had been somewhat concerned that there may be some spell either worked into the fabric of the Faith or provided by the maesters that could strip your guise away, but infiltrating the Starry Sept a third time proves to be no more difficult than the first two times.
A hum of anticipation travels down the line as you walk deeper into the ancient sept lit by high shafts of many-colored light upon dark marble. The smell of incense and the fainter ones of melting wax and old parchment hang in the air with the promise of the trials to come. Even the most jaded godsworn know that this will be a day to be remembered for the ages, the day the unity of the Faith was tested.
And if you are to have your way, broken forevermore.
The hall to which you eventually make your way to is built like a small amphitheater, with well over two thousand under a dome representing the faces of the Seven-Who-Are-One. Here the Maiden gentle and kind, there the the Crone offering the golden cup of wisdom, then the Smith tirelessly at his anvil from which pour all the great works of men's hands, the Mother fair as she is gentle, the bounty of the earth streaming at her feet...
"The image of the Warrior must have made Aegon's coronation rather awkward," Dany notes amused, following your gaze.
You struggle momentarily to keep back a smile. Indeed, having the Warrior be a knight shielding the helpless from a ravening dragon would have made it quite uncomfortable to crown a man who had taken the Seven Kingdoms on the back of Balerion Black Dread. Beside him is the Stranger, neither man nor woman, young not old, as Death is kin to War, and lastly your eyes fall upon the image of the Father, the stern lord who judges justly, the keeper of truth and law, the one whose virtues you most struggle to embody... and the patron of your foe.
What sense drew your gaze down from the dome and into the half-filled stands you cannot say, more than magic a sense of weight and purpose, of destiny perhaps. Dark of beard and hair the man could have been born in any part of the Seven Kingdoms, from the North to Dorne, even perhaps onto the shores of Andalos. White is his cloak and white the band of cloth upon his forehead, seemingly an affection, though it takes only one look into the septon's piercing grey eyes to know that he is not one for idle fancy.
Upon his chest hung by a thread of silver rests a glittering star wrought of seven vibrant jewels framed by depictions of the Seven. Yet for all he bears this great treasure the man does not look haughty in the company of his peers as many others who display the jewels of authority and power. He merely waits and watches for all the Elders to enter the chamber, patient as he is determined.
It barely even takes glancing at those around him, the smallest group in the hall, to know him for the one of whom you had long heard but never seen. This then is Brother Lucan, Champion of the Father above.
Like you he is an outsider here needing other to confer upon him the right to speak, but much as you might dislike the man and the danger he poses to the peace of the Seven Kingdoms, you have to admit they would have to be blind not to know him for what he is and the power that stands at his back.
The opening statements pass quickly, with Kyle, Maer, Lucan, and about half the independents guaranteeing a comfortable majority to vote in the order of the day and the time allotted to each faction. The majority even holds through when Kyle moves to have his first motion follow directly after his opening statement, though that leaves him at an advantage of pushing through votes before the others had their say. Most Devout Aglantine seems more and more frustrated with every vote passed.
"Brothers and Sisters under the Light of the Seven, I come to you today with grave news," The custodian of the Starry Sept begins with an unexpected smile animating his features. "But it is not, as you may have heard, grim news. The world is not ending and the Seven are not punishing us for our sins. All that has changed over the past few years has been by Their will. Never doubt that They are just and that the Light that is One and undivided is love. Should we then think that it is only men they love and all others we are to shun as fiends, of unclean cloth and false seeming? I say nay and that is why I stand before you today... and I do not stand alone."
So saying he gently draws from his cloak a sprite small enough to fit in the palm of his hand with skin the color of fresh leaves, hair and eyes of sunset red, and stretching delicate gossamer wings.
"As you can see the lady is neither bursting into flames as a fiend accursed in the eyes of the Seven, nor does she disdain our company, she and her kind are simply hesitant to trespass in halls of mortal worship lest they touch upon mysteries that are not for their eyes to see."
"Bravo, it takes real skill to sell a lie that big," Dany's voice echoes your own in amusement.
"Even more impressive is that he got her to sit demurely through that," you reply, turning your eyes to the assembled godsworn.
As you had expected Most Devout Aglantine is practically in an uproar, with many others rising to their feet incensed, only to be talked down by their companions while the septa herself looks on with an expression of frozen disgust.
Elder Septa Maer is more restrained, only tight-lipped at the sight, but it is Bother Lucan who catches your eye the most, rather than the hatred you had expected to see there there is simply the look of a man weighing his odds just as he had before.
"I present the first motion before this assembly," Most Devout Kyle continues. "I ask that we acknowledge the
truth that the children of Faerie are not fiends of any sort, and that trade with them is as fit a deed as trade between men. If any of my peers wish to question Lady Myssa she has graciously offered to reply truthfully, for indeed in this she cannot sin. The landwardens are beings of truth and must speak it."
Do you question the Fey or otherwise ask to speak up?
[] Yes
-[] Write in
[] No, let matters continue
OOC: And we are finally here, another multi-part arc. 
