Shaking his head in refusal Sethlzaar almost stepped away in disagreement with reality. His throat grew dry, choked up, and his eyes stung. He didn't fight it. He let the tears well up as he reached his hand to the woman's face. Her voice had strained to push the words out even as a whisper, and saliva dripped from her mouth when she spoke. She leaned into his touch, blood and dirt staining his palm. He didn't care.
She was crying from her good eye.
Dimma had said nothing in the past hour. When they walked through the gates of the city, he had paid her entrance fee while she looked around. Despite the hood concealing most of her face, she leaned back to take in the buildings and people around her.They were just returning from the healer's house where he'd gone to show her to a friend. Not all his contacts from his time at the realm were priests. Some men he had saved from certain perils, and he knew if they learned he was no longer of the frock they'd still help him.
Sethlzaar’s return to the cathedral was welcomed just as was the return of the prodigal son in the scriptures; with threats of wrath and fury which were followed through.He was received at the end of drawn veils of varying designs, and displaced of his veils, bows and quiver. They’d even taken his insignia from around his neck. Somehow, he had a feeling if he’d worn his cassock into the compound they’d have ripped it off his body too.
Most Reverend Father Bratvi Arrufa was a muscled, middle aged man with a clean shaved head. When he spoke people were forced to listen. His pale skin marked his heritage as somewhere not within the realm which made him a compelling sight, and his brogue, if it could be described as one, was flat, almost as if the man didn’t understand what intonations were. Perhaps his vocal cords didn’t care for the nuisance.Men like him were rare in the realm, but among priests, outsiders weren’t so unheard of.
They rode hard for five days. During the day they pushed the horses as far as they could go, and at night they set up camp anywhere they found themselves between cities.They left Arslagh six hundred priests strong under the command of two reverends, who reported to Bratvi. Once outside the capital, they quickly met up with another reverend with command over three hundred priests. Before nightfall, they came upon the city of Hovgrad, a simple city of the realm with no significant repute. Sethlzaar had come upon the city during his travels with Valerik, and like his travel, they di
Six days into their march they were going three thousand six hundred priests strong, and at most, seven one-thousand-man generals. At over ten thousand men strong—priest horses ridden by white cassocks leading war horses ridden by black armor—they were a sight to behold, and a force primed for battle.Then they began doing what Sethlzaar considered the unreasonable.
Six days into their march they were going three thousand six hundred priests strong, and at most, seven one-thousand-man generals. At over ten thousand men strong—priest horses ridden by white cassocks leading war horses ridden by black armor—they were a sight to behold, and a force primed for battle.Then they began doing what Sethlzaar considered the unreasonable.
Sethlzaar frowned at thought of the infirmary. Fighting the Merdendi hadn’t been one of his brightest ideas. In fact, he was beginning to wonder what had gotten into him. He’d won the fight but it was too soon to be walking around in pain. For the rest of what was left of the day he avoided everyone else. He kept himself locked away in his room doing nothing worth remembering. The maids brought his meals as was their duty, but none ever knocked. They left his meals at his door and turned away, as if fearing what would happen should they draw his attention. He di
Nixarv studied Sethlzaar with the scrutiny of a confused man. It was almost as though the man refused to believe his eyes. It should’ve been strange but Sethlzaar found it mildly irksome.“How?” Nixarv asked, his eyes fixed on Sethlzaar’s torso.Sethlzaar shrugged. The how did not matter, what mattered was if the man had a solution to his problem. H