Page 89 of The Sunlit Man

“Sigzil,” he whispered. For some reason, speaking it again after so long brought tears to his eyes.

“Nomad,” Compassion said. “A wanderer with no place. That name no longer fits you, Sigzel, because you have a place. Here, with us.” She said the name a little oddly, according to their own accents.

“Will you accept a name from us?” Contemplation asked. “One you deserve and have earned?”

Feeling numb, he nodded.

“We name you Zellion,” Contemplation said. “After the original Lodestar, who led us to this land and to life. As you have led us.”

“Zellion,” he whispered.

“It means One Who Finds,” Compassion said. “Though I know not the original language.”

“It’s from Yolen,” he whispered. “Where my master was born.”

“Zellion,” Confidence said. “You are one of us now. Whatever you’ve run from, whatever you’ve left, whatever you’ve done—none of that matters. Here, you are of Beacon, of the planet Canticle. We welcome you. We accept you.”

He tried to spit out an argument. Something about how you couldn’t make someone your own with words. You couldn’terasewhat someone had done with kindly sentiment.

Could you?

Words are power, the knight whispers, as long as they have meaning. As long as they have Intent.

“I…” he whispered. “I accept.”

Warmth flooded into him through their grip. He gasped, eyes going wide. The three elderly women smiled at him as he dropped to his knees, feeling anignitionwithin him. They stepped back, releasing his hand. But then each of the other people, even the children, approached in turn. One at a time, they touched him with ungloved hands. A hand to his. A touch on the side of the face. A few hugs.

Each of them imparted warmth, until he wasafirewith it. Until he knelt there wondering why he didn’t glow like the sun. They stood back, and let it burn within him.

That’s not much in the way of BEUs,Auxiliary said.Less than a single percent combined—but a remarkable amount for each person to give up, though, as they have.

It felt like so much more. Perhaps it was being without, then having the Investiture returned. Perhaps it was something else, something special about how this was given. In contrast to his earlier numbness, he now felt more alive than he had in years.

The Greater Good approached again. “Zellion,” Contemplation said, “this is our thanks to you. But…we have work to do. One final task. We need to find the way into the Refuge.”

“You have a plan?” Confidence asked. “To get us there?”

“Yes,” he said, voice hoarse. “But…could I have a moment or two to process this first, please?”

“Of course,” Compassion said. “You have given us all each and every moment we have, from now until we are given to the sun. Please, take some for yourself.”

He didn’t wantto go back to his room because Elegy was there. He wanted to be alone. So he strolled away from the group of ships, looking toward the sky. He’d seen rings on other planets, but never ones so vivid, so colorful, and so bright.

But like so many things in life, it was a trade-off. Vibrant rings. Terrible sun. Hand in hand, dreads and beauties. Same as they were inside a person like him. If he hadn’t been through the terrible experiences that had scarred him, he’d never have been able to fight to rescue Rebeke and Zeal.

But if he hadn’t been through those horrors, he also wouldn’t have been broken.

He stepped up onto a rise. The earth was springy underfoot, and as he stood on the hill, plants grew up around his feet, tickling hisshins. His shoes—not proper boots, as he liked, but they were all the Beaconites had been able to provide—were too new, unbroken. They hadn’t seen horrors yet, and so they were inflexible.

But once they got worn in, they also would start to wear out. Could a soul wear out, likewise? In his youth, he’d have said that was impossible. That souls weren’t like pieces of cloth or leather; that people were too valuable to ever be “worn out.” Yet here he was. Taking this people’s offered warmth and love, all while leading them toward a lie.

That was beautiful, what they did,Auxiliary said.You’re Connected fully to this place, somehow. You’re a man of two homeworlds now.

“And we’ll have to leave this one too,” he said, voice hoarse. “We’ll have to keep running. Like always.”

Yes, that is true. Perhaps we can enjoy it for a time first, though?

Zellion hissed softly, frustration spoiling the moment. What was there to enjoy? The knowledge that these people were doomed? That he’d saved them not to bringthemto salvation, but so they could helphimget to safety?

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