All at once, Tyr felt a gust of cold air on his back. He whipped around. Guardsmen were hauling open the massive double doors that faced onto Shrinegate. The day’s activity had begun and Tyr gaped in dismay at the first few devotees, led by a bent old lady with a stick, shuffling in to pay their yawning respects to Arna. Tyr tried frantically to position his hands appropriately and swung back round to face the Laver.
A strange calm came upon him. He stood straight, feeling quite at peace, all at once disinclined to be modest. He was supposed to be here, like this. Tyr stood quiet with proper pride, enjoying being there, then he plunged into the fire-lit waters of the Laver. His dark hair swirled about his head like sea-fronds as he swam to the depths and put his hands against the clear pa
