Part 2- The Pacifist
The abbot approached the kneeling figure who scrubbed the marble floor vigorously with the brush. From the back his long white hair blended in well with the simple white cotton robe he wore, secured at the waist with only a simple rope. The abbot slowed his pace slightly as he approached and took in the figure hard at work at the menial task. This chore was beneath him, the abbot knew, but this man insisted on doing it and doing it well. He would scrub the chapel for endless hours until it sparkled like it was the first day it had been opened. "Daliyon." The abbot called to the kneeling man.
Slowly the worker stood leaving the brush on the floor and turned towards the leader of the monastery. "Lanolar." he acknowledged and bowed deeply.
For a number of reasons the abbot was bothered, as he always was when dealing with this man, by the fact that Daliyon never addressed anyone, even their goddess, with a title. It did not seem to be arrogance or condescension, he would have run the man out the abbey long before this had he believed that to be the case. It truly seemed that he was sincere in his belief that all sentient creatures were equal. Abbot Lanolar noticed that Daliyon was staring at him quizzically waiting to be addressed and the abbot found himself strangely unnerved by the stare. Daliyon's eyes possessed irises that were a sparkling gold, sparkling like the electricity in a lightning bolt. "You are requested by Prelate Hulrun."
Daliyon still looked at him questioningly. "I know of Hulrun, but how is it that he knows of me?"
"He requested our best healer to join a group that he is tasking with a mission."
Daliyon looked at his empty hands and simple robes. "I am not our best healer. Alitar Moveras has that honor."
Lanolar sighed. Alitar was, of course, the most experienced healer in the House of the Comforting Light, but Daliyon had displayed an innate skill that had dwarfed anything that the general clergy could produce. He was a natural healer, and he did not worship or pray for his abilities as the priests did, his ability just came to him when he needed them, soon, perhaps very soon, he would surpass them all. "He says that he needs our best healer who is not well known."
Daliyon raised a white eyebrow skeptically. "I do not travel, as you know. Wandering is for the others. I prefer to stay here and serve Shelyn. This you know as well. So why would you ask this thing of me?"
Lanolar sighed again. Daliyon was always difficult to deal with, mostly because he cut to the heart of every issue. He spoke his mind freely and expected others to do so as well. He did not flatter others and flattery did not work on him. He was utterly devoid of pride and, as pious as he was, it was a characteristic that truly made the abbot uncomfortable. "We owe a debt to Prelate Hulrun and I would have it paid."
"And I am to be your bargaining chip?" The young man stated with a firm tone of accusation.
Lanolar waved his hands before himself in denial and self defense. "No, no. I thought to offer this assignment to you first because your sister has been assigned by the church of the Dawnflower as well. I thought you might want to be the one standing by her side."
Daliyon stared piercingly at him for a moment that discomforted the older priest greatly and then closed his golden eyes and took several deep, controlled breaths. Then he opened his eyes again staring through the abbot. "Why would Hulrun need me if my sister had answered the call? I don't see how someone who requires her skills would have any need of mine."
The abbot raised his hands helplessly. "I do not know. I only thought to do you the courtesy of being asked first. I can assign one of the apprentices instead."
Again Daliyon closed his brilliant eyes as the abbot turned away from him to leave the chapel. "I'll go." he somderly replied before Lanolar had crossed the threshold.
Lanolar looked back at him, not entirely surprised, and smiled. "The Eternal Rose shall bless you."
"She always has."
"And Daliyon requisition some armor before you go."
"Lanolar, you know how I feel about weapons and armor."
"Your disdain of the weapons of death is commendable in its own way, but I would like to have you come back to us intact. I think you have value."
"Still I cannot. To don armor invites combat and I'll not invite conflict."
"It's an order. You will not leave this abbey without armor and, I suspect, before all is said and done that your sister will need your healing caress. Get the armor." Lanolar stated firmly.
Daliyon grimaced noticeably, but conceded. "As you command."
The abbot watched him leave, surprised that he had accepted the command with so little fight. Lanolar realized how reprehensible armor, and especially weapons, were to Daliyon, but then again his sister was always the only thing that had ever made him compromise his entrenched beliefs. He was equally surprised by how relatively easy it had been to convince him to go. He wondered what would happen when the young healer realized with whom he was dealing, but he thanked the Lady of Love silently, for he felt deeply in his old bones that Daliyon's sister truly would need him by her side before all was said and done. he shuddered slightly at the thought, something about this request struck him as being out of the ordinary. Daliyon had been specifically requested. Hulrun had been very specific in wanting his services above all others, even those with much more skill. Lanolar did not like being manipulated and he had the nagging feeling that his strings were being pulled in this instance. Silently he prayed to Shelyn to forgive him and withdrew to his own room for contemplation.