Role

Chapter 8

As he gathered Ysigrath's peat, pudding and marshweed for his specially
formulated embalming fluid, Iskrith spoke to himself aloud:

"This I now see. Goddess Rarywey does not stop me because she does not want
this to stop.

She tests me. The Goddess of Weh wants only her truest worshiper to walk in
her embrace. To feed the Eddies. To return energy to Her and Her universe. To
evolve Sra to better fulfill Weh.

I will be Her walking Weh! A part of Her. Her maw. To bite, tear, chew.

Yes. This is my place."

His eyes began to shine more brightly, and his self-loathing seemed to lift
for perhaps the first time since his exile. It followed perhaps the darkest
period, brought on by doubts sown by the Fortress shapeshifter Bazz.

Bazz told Iskrith that he would never truly have Rarywey's favor. A
necromancer never could. Iskrith would only make Her sad, unlike Her favorite
follower ever, the elven Herald Lyeeth. Lyeeth was pleasing to her. Iskrith is
not.

But Iskrith realized Her disappointed gaze was only a test. That Her request
to wait longer before attempting to Become was a hint to ensure his success.
She sees him. Truly. In fact, She may even count on him.

For once, Iskrith understood what it meant to look forward to the future.