Summary: A snippet about Kian after the end of Dreamfall.
Disclaimer: No matter what, Kian doesn't belong to me. Nor do any of the other people. They're all Ragnar Tornquist's and/or Funcom's. I'm just a doting fangirl...

The Will of the Goddess
by Sade Lyrate

He arose from the cot. Sleep would not come, and he wouldn't even welcome it.
Too much was on his mind. The mooncast light hardly mattered in the stoic cell, leading only his thoughts back to the earlier hours of the night, to the pier in the mist enshrouded swamp...

He could hear her voice. Quiet, resolute. Cutting above the din of his own heated emotions, the chaos brewing around them. Full of pride.

"I'm not going to stand in front of your judges and plead for my life."

And the look she'd given him, words like venom...

"I'd rather die here."

He had barely heard Vamon's order, registered the words, as one of his men stabbed with skilled ease her life out of her. He could only watch, helpless, as she fell over the edge of the pier, disappeared into the murky waters of the swamp.

Why couldn't they see how wrong they were? Why could they not hear the Goddess themselves? How could the Emissary herself be so ignorant of what happened beneath her feet? Or how could she accept it?

He could not believe that the Emissary would have sanctioned a massacre.
He could not believe that the Goddess would have led him to meet...her...only to allow her to die before he could find out why. Why she seemed so familiar, why she wasn't afraid of the Azadi, why he...felt...the way he did near her, talking with her.

And what had bound his own hands?
He was an Apostle; certainly he could have taken on Vamon and his few men, fled...
But like that, he would have only been yet another nameless rebel to raise his hand against the Azadi. The Emissary, the Six...they would have never heard what he had to say.

But his promise to Vamon...that he would keep. One way or the other, the Six would see that he was right, that the Goddess had never intended for them to become objects of terror, to become tyrants, their name cursed behind their backs.

By the grace of the Goddess, he would walk the streets again, challenge Vamon, take his heart for the loss of the innocent lives he so carelessly doomed to damnation.

Even though not even that would undo what had happened. The screams, the cries, the flames and the blood. The hungry, scaly beasts of the swamp feasting on the corpses. The slaughter of innocents he could not have believed his people capable of. Still... all those people. They could be avenged...

For their spirits, he could only pray the Goddess to be gentle.

For himself... The Goddess set him on this Path. She would lead him into light.


Every thought of her aroused within him emotions he could not name, feelings alike forgotten dreams. Everything about her piqued his curiosity, from the passion and pride in her words to the look in her eyes. She was unlike any he had met before. Could it possibly be the will of the Goddess that she was dead?

Quiet, he knelt down, closed his eyes. The familiar flow and rhythm of the mantra's words came with ease, shrouded the troubling thoughts.

Tomorrow they would ship him to Sadir.
Tomorrow the Six would hear him.