The Forgotten Saint

It was rare to gain a sneak peak into the lives of the Saints. Far and few inbetween the sainted vespire, pride of the caverns and mountains that sang her praises, would be lucky enough to do so much as greet her. So to Coogie’s surprise and bafflement one such figure stood before her on the landing of her den. Golden leaves fluttered from her crown and Coogie stooped low to the floor.

“Sister… trouble yourself not with such gestures of subservience. I’m here to humbly request a favor of you.” St. Amare’s voice was gentle and coaxing Coogie into relaxation. It made her shudder to be called “sister” by such a figure. Though the relationship was far from literal… Coogie could admit the relation between them in spirit, at least with that whom her affliction turned her into.

“I… Saint… what can I do?” It was all she could offer in response, already feeling her fur bristle and wisp at the ends in the presence of such power.

“I need your help whisking away a vespire from here… she is oppressed by her family, and unable to follow her love. Florrie and I would see them reunited in Fluorspar, if only you could help them.” St. Amare fluttered her feathered wings, four in all, and feathered fluff floated down from them. “Her name is Vespilet, from a Strata far to set in their ways to be for anyone's good. The easiest egress would be to leave in the night when none could hurt her on her way out, emotionally or otherwise.”

Coogie swished her tail nervously, she knew what was really being asked of her… to assume her other form and let them handle such a mission. The thought made her nervous but it was the least she could do considering the help she would need from all the Saints to claim such a title for herself someday… at least formally.

“I know it’s much to ask of you… especially with the difficulties taking on such a form raises… but it would bring Vespilet warmth and perhaps soften the hearts of her Strata to know that she had the rescue of a Saint at her back. You must build a legacy to earn the title. This is as good a first step as any.” And with little more than a nod St. Amare spread her wings and pushed away from the small den. Left behind was only the promise that they could all meet again in Fluorspar soon, and to be safe.

—

The skyline of Bainlaire twisted and warped around Calum’s eye-line. How much it had changed since last she had seen it. The biting mountain chill made her form ripple as it bolted past one of the many openings in the cavern to the endless sky above. She knew where it was she could find this vespire in need and wasted no time curling across the cavern to go there.

From the streets below a vespire might have seen a spiral of brilliant white, wisps of smoke trailing behind them as they arched above the city on a singular mission. This was not the first sighting of “Saint” Calum but it was of a collection of sightings, the first of their kind in many decades. The forgotten saint was active again and in plain sight.

Word reached Vespilet’s strata too late. By the time morning had arrived the star-crossed heart of Vespilet was already a distance away from Bainlaire. In the company, of course, of a would-be saint who said little but burned with compassion for the love that drove Vespilet to this choice. Saint Calum would see the lovers united in Fluorspar, and all the Ebony Wreath would know the forgotten saint once more.