Solo, the Priest

He knew Shaya all his life. She, too, worked the lands with her family, though her lands did not boast so many animals, and sometimes she wept with hunger when she should have been sleeping. They always assumed they would wed when the time was right, but this assumption neither diminished their love nor made it commonplace. He loved and adored her with an unswerving devotion, which she returned with a merry laughter and a sparkling smile.

When they joined in marriage, in their mid teens as was the custom, they were allotted a small parcel of land to work, and a small assortment of animals to breed into their own flock. Their time together was not easy, but love did, indeed, ease their burdens.

It was tradition to have many children. Though children added to the burden of mouths to feed, they also lessened the burden of work to be done, with their youthful enthusiasm and agility about the farm. Children were not sent out to play, but rather to work. Barthol and Shaya looked forward to increasing their family, but the youngsters never came.

For five years they worked the lands together, bitter disappointments and long hours of toil now and then interrupted by short moments of joy and beauty. But as their hope of children faded, so did her health. As Shaya's vivacity faded, Barthol's worry lines deepened. Although they worshipped different gods, he Tatianna and she Tarin, this had never been a source of disagreement between them. But when Shaya could see that her time in Darkstone as a mortal was coming to a close, she determined that she must make a pilgrimage to Tarin's temple. She believed a miracle awaited her there. Barthol knew the journey was long and would be hard on his ailing wife, and refused, at first, to consider it. Her determination, though, eventually wore him down. The farm animals were given to family and friends for safe keeping, the crops abandoned, and the two launched themselves on the arduous pilgrimage.

Bandits and brigands were a constant worry, and hunger never stayed far away. When food could not be gathered, it was stolen. Sick and failing, Shaya soon could no longer walk. To his shame and horror, Barthol stole a horse for her to ride. Stolen from a lord's stables, he took not the finest mount, but rather a shabby and grouchy horse, one less likely to be missed. The stolen horse eased her burden for a time, though it deepened his burden of grief and remorse. Still, her health and strength grew dimmer as they got farther from home. It was in the mountains, when he paused to pluck apples from a tree, that she fell from her stolen mount. Another burden of grief settled upon Barthol's soul--that he was not there by her side to support her when she needed him. She never awoke from the stupor that overtook her when she fell. Bones, fragile as a birds, were broken, her skin was scraped and torn, and her eyes closed to shut out the pain and illness. She died at midnight.

With the death of his true love, Barthol was lost. The grief and fear in his heart drove him into the woods without purpose, and he barely survived upon what he found there, sobbing by day, and sleeping only when his exhausted body gave out on him. His wild demeanor and horrific odour kept him safe from the killers and brigands that strayed his way.

While he slept, in his dementia, he imagined the immortals laughed at him. He could see them, safe in their mansions, sipping strong wines and chortling with merry pleasure at his downfall. Every night, the vision became clearer. Til one night, in his dream, he saw the room full of immortals, all laughing at him. But in a corner, he saw Tarin, his wife's deity, watching the mirth, and then heard him comment compassionately, "He did his best."

In the morning, Barthol knew. He knew now that he had a purpose. He now devoted himself to his wife's religion. He bathed in a stream, cleaning himself up. He begged of a humble farmer some clean and mended clothing to wear. He refused to steal, relying only upon the mercy of those he met along the way. When brigands came upon him, he offered them his cloak, his clothes, everything he had. Shocked by his compliance, the brigands left him alone. He knew now that he would never return to his home lands. Never would he take a new love. Never would he see his family again, and never would he become the father of a new family. Never again would he be known as Barthol. He would devote his life to the service of Tarin, alone, giving compassion and comfort to all in His name.

He presented himself at Tarin's temple, coming to Tarin's devotees and saying simply, "I am here to care for all. My name is Solo."

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