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“It’s difficult to lose a daughter. But I believe you have a different concern in mind.” Taking a few steps forward, Rifan knelt beside him.
There was no avoiding this, was there? Rifan sensed something was wrong and probably wouldn’t leave until Jav divulged it. “I received some orders… Orders I’m struggling with. Sir, did she mention the details of my task?”
“She did.” The frown deepened in the old man’s brow.
“Is this really the work of the goddess?” he said softly. Rifan’s eyes were reverently fixed on the statue, while Jav’s were on him.
“You know our laws, Javarin. Better than most of those your age. You’ve been with us a long time.”
“I know, sir. But…” He forced his gaze back to the statue, like the priest’s.
“But it’s hard to accept when you have to carry it out yourself for the first time. With someone you know well.”
“Yes.”
“You have served ardently, but you have walked an easy path so far. You could be a great knight, though, you know. If you rise to the occasion. Knights can protect more than just nobles.”
“Is this the occasion to which I must rise?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear he was wrong.
“Indeed, it is. I know it hurts a generous and noble soul like yours, Javarin, but if we let mages live, we do everyone harm—mages and innocents alike.”
His brow twitched at those labels, but he quickly smoothed it. Rifan wasn’t looking at him anyway, but just in case. “What harm is there in allowing them their freedom?”
“You can see the power of the magic evidenced in Kavanar. But there’s also the matter that she’d bear other mages as her children. And so the corruption continues. So the corruption spreads.”
“If she—” He stopped himself. Too familiar. He couldn’t let Rifan suspect there were any deeper personal feelings behind his struggle; Alekur’s comments showed Jav had already revealed more than he’d intended. “What if a mage swore an oath never to use their magic, what then?”
“There are some lands that tolerate this. But it’s not a promise most mages can keep. It’s not practical.”
“You would think staying alive would be more than practical.”
“Some work their magic unintentionally. Some even have been known to work it in their sleep. It’s an impossible oath. But even if they claimed they were keeping this promise, how could we be sure? Darkness lies in that way of thinking. It’s not necessarily more humane than putting them out of their misery.”
He sighed. The beeswax scent of the candles had always warmed and reassured him, but now, it felt somehow stale, antiquated, off. Maybe it was the mead. His head was not right. He struggled not to say the words that pushed at him, begging to be brought to life. The priest would think him a heretic.
But didn’t he need to voice his concern to have it proven wrong? How else would he overcome this internal resistance? He pressed his lips together, watching the flame of the candle dancing in a faint draft.
He had to ask. He steeled himself and spoke. “Why would Nefrana plant such a seed if she didn’t intend for it to grow?”
Rifan finally turned his gaze toward Jav, a calm, placid smile on his face. “Ah, yes. That old argument. Well, we can’t speak for the gods, son. Can we? Who knows their mysterious ways?”
The priest seemed to be wanting him to speak or agree, but he couldn’t manage it. He turned his gaze back to the candles.
“But… since you’re asking,” Rifan continued, voice rough but gentle. “Some of us believe that perhaps it is caused by a flawed heart in the mother while a child is in the womb. Others have theorized it could be that magic itself flows through the world, seeks out weak children, and infects them.”
“But there’s… nothing they can do? They’re just born that way?”
“It appears so. There is a school of thought that suggests it is a break in the mind, a kind of madness, or that the weak children might draw the magic at various points all the way into adolescence. We don’t really know. What we do know, though, is that magic is deeply unnatural. And more dangerous than you can imagine.”
“What does it do that’s so dangerous?”
“Ah, but to know that is to take the very corruption into your head. It’s best not to know unless you choose to become a truly great knight of the highest order.”
“What sort of knight is that?”
“Those who hunt the mages as their primary duty. It is a great honor.”
Jav hung his head. He knew all these arguments abstractly; he’d been a good study. They weren’t what he needed. If it was possible to be convinced that Iseris’s execution was just and Nefrana’s will, Rifan was not the man to do it.
