This story is a sequel to Garden of the Moon, my story of the deaf albino boy rescued by Thiede, turned into a shaman, and then finaly chosen for a very special duty. In this story, we catch up with him as well as Vaysh, a character I'd wanted to explore for quite a while. I hope all the original fans of this story enjoy it. Please do let me know what you think.

Characters
Vaysh, Moon (original character from Garden of the Moon), another original character (to be named later), Pell, Cal, Rue, Thiede.

Spoilers
Containers spoilers for entire Wraeththu trilogy.

Chapter 1

It was the eyes that first caught his attention.

Vaysh later wondered what would have happened if he hadn't seen them, if he hadn't been wandering about Immanion that particular afternoon, standing at that particular market stall, looking up at that particular moment. Would the outcome have been the same? His logical mind told him yes -- after all, he wasn't the only individual involved, and eventually matters would probably have come together on their own. Still, his heart told him no. Such a powerful moment it had been, that first glimpse, seeing those amber eyes. Perhaps without the first domino falling, Vaysh felt, the rest of it might not have followed.

It happened in the year ai-cara 30. Months had passed since the momentous Ascension, and in those months Vaysh had gained more and more opportunity -- and desire -- to leave the palace Phaonica and mingle amidst the common crowds of the city. Not that the populace of Immanion could be considered remotely common in a general sense, but the lives and attitudes of such hara certainly contrasted with those living in the palace. In Phaonica, the game was never-ending, hara trading and squabbling over power, status, love, and every move mad behind the veneer of high-caste virtue. While Vaysh was an expert at the palace game, the more he went out, the more he drew pleasure from watching hara outside the palace walls, who put less effort into disguising their petty motivations and machinations. Not that Vaysh himself opened up himself, but he did enjoy watching.

In any case, going about the city was something to do now that he was no longer in such demand. In comparison to the past three decades, Pellaz had far less free time to spend chatting with his friend. He and his Calanthe, together with Caeru, were busy healing one another and managing affairs of state, and Vaysh had been pushed to the periphery. The bonds they had once shared so strongly seemed to have weakened, with Pellaz no longer suffering the pain he had felt all those years and Thiede gone to a place where he no longer tormented or controlled the lives of either of them. As for those nights of mutual pleasure they had once shared, they had gone as well.

While he was certainly busy with his role as official advisor and counselor, which he fulfilled for with both Tigrons as well as the Tigrina, after the initial rush of activity, Vaysh found that his schedule left him hours to fill her had never had. Or maybe he had just never thought to do anything with those hours beyond working extra hours, reading, lying in bed drinking. These days he was less inclined to such reclusive, melancholy activities; going to the city for shopping, or at least observing, had become a favorite pass time.

For many years Vaysh had disdained the common crowd or, more truly, any crowds at all. The Ascension had changed all that. Like many hara, in the moment when at last Cal had joined with Pell, Vaysh had felt a change within himself. Although it was not something many had noticed, he felt more alive than he had in years. He couldn't be described as fun-loving or particularly social or convivial, but he knew that in relative terms, he had indeed become so. The ice, as Pell might have said, if he had noticed, was beginning to melt. It would take time. Time and, as Vaysh learned, the proper trigger.

Before he saw the eyes, Vaysh first heard the voice or rather a word, overheard across a market stall: "Thiede."

Vaysh had been absorbed comparing hair products, of all things, and examining a tin of pomade, he'd felt a a prickling feeling run down his spine. So much had changed in his life, and yet that single word still had the power to curdle his blood, or so it seemed.

Vaysh was glad that for the most part the name was no longer used. No, these days "Thiede" had become "the Aghama," his role as the first of Wraeththu common knowledge, the root of the Gelaming religion. Most hara did not speak of Thiede, even if they had known him in flesh in blood.

It was for this reason, and for what the har was saying, that Vaysh looked up. This har spoke of Thiede without the usual reverence. Speaking with the vendor in a low tone, obviously aiming at discretion, he was asking if Thiede ever granted audiences! Would it be possible to speak with him? While Vaysh was astonished at the question, the vendor laughed, for while the Aghama was worshipped in prayer and the Triad spoke to him within the walls of the Sanctum, Thiede did not act the role of overlord. The Aghama did not exist to hear petitions or solve the petty problems of everyday hara.

Vaysh saw only the har's back, a view which gave away nothing, not even the har's haircolor, as his entire head was covered over with pale yellow linen. It was only when the har turned to follow the vendor to the counter that Vaysh saw it was not only the head but the entire face that was covered -- or nearly. The eyes were there for all to see.

The har's headgear matched fashion among certain tribes who dwelt in the desert, and above the yellow linen the eyes twinkled with a light all too familiar to Vaysh: Thiede's. Unusual, the color, although of course it had only been appropriate, the fiery father of the flaming hair, with two eyes that glowed like polished amber.

How strange to be thinking of that when the desert har had just brought up Thiede himself. Thiede's name, Thiede's eyes, and Vaysh had been Thiede's once as well. His creation. His servant. Now he was supposed to be his worshipper, a role with which he still was not comfortable.

Vaysh, who tended to act in an extremely premeditated fashion, was surprised at the idea that came into his head then. Maybe, just for the afternoon, he could take on a new role: Thiede's spy. The stranger was buying a tin of pomade just like the one Vaysh had in his hand. As the vendor took the money and wrapped up the container, the eyes were still there, the headgear was still there, and now, Vaysh sensed, power was there as well. Even shielded, as Vaysh habitually was, he could feel that pulse of power. More shadows of Thiede.

The strange har finally took his purchase and headed out of the stall, aparently oblivious to Vaysh's observation. Quickly going to the counter to make his own purchase, Vaysh watched the offender moved two stalls over. He was so tall he had to stoop under the awning, and standing next to a bookseller, he appeared outsized, disproportionate to his environment. Vaysh wondered which corner the world the har had come from and whether indeed he was a member of a desert tribe.

Extending his senses, Vaysh heard the har once again asking questions about Thiede. Vaysh's mind quickly filled with questions. Who was this tall unknown, to be calling Thiede by his name and asking about gaining an audience with him? Obviously he was new to the city, but didn't hara almost everywhere now know the truth? Was it possible that this har had once known Thiede? The idea made Vaysh shiver, especially since it was was indeed quite possible.

Accepting his purchase from the vendor, Vaysh issued a perfunctorary thank you, his mind primarily focused on keeping the tall stranger in sight. As he headed into the market, concealing his movements was not an issue. The har was in no hurry and Vaysh could easily pretend to be lingering at the various stalls. He could also disguise himself by making himself invisible, not literally, but by wielding his powers to keep others from noticing him. In this way he followed the har through the marketplace and then half-way across the city.

After about a half an hour, the har had apparently reached his destination. They were in one of the poorer districts of the city, which was not to say that it was not a lovely area, but that it was not the quarter for diplomats or high-ranking hara. This quarter, with its less pretentious inns and guesthouses, was mainly frequented by traveling merchants, come into Immanion on business. As Vaysh watched the stranger proceed down a side alley to what was apparently a guest house, he wondered if he could be one of these merchants. Although he didn't have the common manner or appearance of such hara, who were normally gregarious and ostentatious, one never knew.

Finally the stranger entered the front yard of the guesthouse through a metal gate. Vaysh sidled up the alley and planted himself behind the high hedges that blocked out one side of the yard. Probably there would be nothing further to see, as the har would no doubt go inside the house, but for some reason Vaysh felt the need to keep him in his sights as long as possible. Later he realized this drive had been based on more than mere impulse, but at the time, it seemed like a simple act of self-indulgence, just like the half hour of spying that had preceded it. If he'd already wasted the time of following this har, he told himself, then he might as well spend a few moments more.

It was only a moment or two later, after gaining a view of the yard through the bushes, that Vaysh found that he had been wrong. The stranger had not gone inside, but instead was pacing out in front, as if he were composing himself for a speech or presentation. Vaysh was just beginning to wonder what was going on when out the front door of the guesthouse emerged a second har, even more intriguing than the first.

This har, Vaysh recognized at once, was an albino. Whether he was an incepted har or pureborn was impossible to tell, but certainly he was an anomaly, as Vaysh in all his travels had never seen a har with the peculiarly striking white skin and hair he glimpsed now. Quite exotic he was, even by Wraeththu standards, with short hair spiked up in bunches, ears loaded with silver earrings. Within a few moments, Vaysh felt sure the albino was a shaman; even shielding, he could feel a strong vibration of power.

In the meantime it seemed the first har was delivering his report, or at least his hand gestures indicated as much. For words, there were none. These hara were both communicating solely by mindtouch and no lips were moving. This was definitely not a meeting of ordinary merchants. Probably both of them were shamen from a faraway tribe. Vaysh was sorely tempted to unshield himself and attempt to listen in on the conversation, but he didn't want to risk the exposure.

Instead he watched the two hara go back and forth, the first har obviously delivering information, the second questioning him. The albino did not use his hands nearly as much as the taller har, appearing serene. When the albino finally did react, it was to step forward and embrace his companion, patting him on the back. The expression on both of them showed slight disappointment. What news had the har been collecting in the city? Reports on Thiede?

Vaysh didn't have the opportunity to consider these questions for more than a moment before something occurred which changed everything. The two hara separated and then the first har, glancing casually over his shoulder, tugged on the linen head wrapping. It was the hair that came into view first, a tangle of bright red. A pale cheek and chin were revealed, then a mouth, a nose. Then it was something Vaysh never thought he would see again: The face of Thiede.