Alas, the storm is come again! My best way is to creep
under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: misery
acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud till the
dregs of the storm be past.

Shakespear - The Tempest - Act II : Scene II

~*~

Twilight, the time of transitions, it is said twilight is the last safe time in the day. It is the dwindling light, entreating one to seek safe haven from the terrors of the night. It is said twilight was the time of endings, of the last vestiges of good leaving this world until the suns rise hours later. It was the time of abandonment, a world of callous silence leaving those who partook of it in a suffocating stillness. Twilight was a time reserved for the truly desperate, those who were approaching the darkness as a final hope at salvation.

To Liliana Ambria, twilight was a beginning, a dawn in its own right.

The priestess of the night had embraced the darkness that had enshrouded the world at night, finding an easy peace. One argued that to be in the light was to have your works known and exposed for all to see. The Light was no salvation but a cruel hoax, teasing those who sought its succor. The night embraces all who come to it. You may be tested, and you may fail, but the night developed strength, a determination that sought to eradicate all those within its dark clutches.

So it was that at Twilight the death of one lie and the beginning of a truth that Liliana Ambria resided in the small chapel. To call it such was a disservice to a real chapel, for the knights had appropriated the room for its divine purpose. What had once been a small office now held countless statues to the many gods. Each was placed in a cardinal direction or between the major ones, so as to give those who sought to pray a safety. So long as the beseecher looked towards the window, free of statuary they could pray, and know their god could hear them with no fear of retaliation.

In the center was only a mat for kneeling in reverence and supplication. It was almost a forgone conclusion that one should be alone in the room when prayer happened, and because of Liliana’s pull as Seth Dahlios’ paramour she was afforded the twilight, a time when few others would wish to pray. She often made hers short a mere keeping in touch with her deity. At one time she had chosen the twilight for her god had been Dumas, lord of Night.

Uriel stuck to twilight for it was the only time he could avoid the eyes of the other gods. Dumas had not yet come into ascension and could not watch him fully. Neither could Varas lord of Light shine upon Uriel's works and reveal them. The other gods often avoided this time for many reasons further cementing the god’s position in the hierarchy. Forever pawing at the scraps when he had at one time been a full god in his own right.

Amiya, his chosen herald had been instrumental in teaching her the forgotten faith.

Still prudence was forever a watchword of Uriel. Marking discernment in his followers was the first step in avoiding their exposure. They were denied the comfort of the darkness. While she still showed the world she was a cheerful and caring person inside she had slowly died with each night that her lover and daughter remained lost to her. It was an easy sham to create, people often citing her loneliness as the reason for her reclusive state. Still she loathed the daylight often staying indoors to bide her time, and come up with ways to track her husband that worked across the globe.

Uriel had been at least a small help in that manner, giving her an update as to his condition. Some nights were terrifying; with Uriel reporting poison and grievous wounds being inflicted upon Seth. Other nights were a more comfortable sleep, when Seth had been recovering and so not as active. Her daughter however, remained a mystery to her. Uriel refused the knowledge, not even giving her the freedom of choice in the matter. All he would say on the matter was it was not the Girl’s time, and that Seth’s purpose would be fulfilled soon.

Ominous statements if there were any.

Still she bowed her head for prayer and felt out for life. It was always a precaution against those that would listen in to the priestess’ prayers in the hopes of discerning her true faith, only to be shocked when, unlike other times she felt a life, close. She was weaponless but still readied herself the adrenaline rush of feeling the presence coursing through her veins, even as the shadows on the wall grew longer. Finally she managed to get a hold of herself and spoke, “If you have something to say or do, please feel free to partake of the chapel. I’m more than willing to step aside.”