Chapter 149 - The Thunder God’s Temple IV
Claire stuck out an arm and stopped her newest travelling companion from walking out from behind the carriage in front of them. Without a sound, she brought a finger to her lips and motioned for Lia to lie low. But while the catgirl was a soldier, she was not a Cadrian elite; the secret hand signs prompted not a nod of understanding, but a confused tilt of the head.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
The caravan’s driver reacted to the voice with a start. He turned around, eyed the trio suspiciously, and pushed his turberus with a flick of the whip. Making sure that they didn’t follow, he entered the checkpoint by his lonesome. Lia was unbothered by the interaction. She returned his gaze, smiled, and even waved, all while her lyrkrian co-conspirator secretly fumed.
“You were supposed to keep quiet.” Pulling her hand back beneath her cloak, the moose-snake glared at the feline, her lips twisted in displeasure. “We could have followed him. It would have saved us the trouble of dealing with the guards.”
“Trouble?” The domestic shorthair narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Claire… What did you do?”
“It wasn’t my fault,” said the lyrkress. “But we should use a different gate.”
“You know what? I won’t ask. Just follow me, stay quiet, and look pretty.” With a small smile, the catgirl took the lead and entered the checkpoint, right as the man in front of them was cleared.
“Halt. Identify yourselves.” Security was more robust than it had been during Claire’s first visit. There were four more men for a total of six, and each was fully armed and armoured. But though geared for a greater threat, the guards themselves were lax. Even the one who asked for their identities had his hand off the blade strapped to his waste.
“We’re bounty hunters.” Lia pulled a scroll out of her pouch and passed it to the soldier.
He was far from careful with its inspection. He casually raised it to the light and squinted at the stamp adorning its top left corner before passing it right back. “Seems like it. Kill anyone worth mentioning?”
“Just one.” The catgirl presented the bag she was holding and opened it for the guard to see.
Put off by the smell, the kelpfin warrior grimaced and reeled back. He waved at the air in front of him with one fin and covered his snout with the other before leaning in and checking its contents again. “Dear Krebb, is that who I think it is?”
“Vik Sinnue, in the flesh,” said Lia, with a wide, toothy grin.
“With just the three of you?” he said, as he looked over their group. “Great work. Gotta say, I’m impressed.” Laughing, the sharkman extended a fin and thumped the catgirl on the back. “Wait, are you that girl that everyone’s been talking about lately? The one that’s working for Silkroad.”
Lia didn’t openly acknowledge or disparage the claim, and only flashed a brief smile.
“I thought you hunted alone, but I guess that’s on me for believing the rumours. Anyway, great work. Lost a few friends in the force to him myself, when we last tried to raid the place. Might’ve been different underwater, but we couldn’t win against the numbers on land.” He smiled wistfully as he hobbled back to his post. “Now I’m not about to keep you any longer, come in, come in. I’m sure everyone will be delighted to hear that the job is finally done.”
“We’ll make sure to report by the end of the day,” said Lia.
Smiling amicably again, the catgirl walked right through the open gate with her companions in tow. Neither the lyrkress nor the fox were questioned or even brought to attention; the guards had treated them as a part of the girl’s entourage and even looked at them with respect—an interaction that had Claire furrowing her brow.
“See? I told you,” said Lia. “Quick and painless.”
“Yeah! I thought we were gonna get into another fight for sure,” said Sylvia. “Claire was already ready to knock them out again.”
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yeah you were! I saw you clench your fists and everything!”
The lamia averted her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I haven’t been here for long, but I’ve already got a bit of a reputation,” said Lia. She turned a few corners before stopping in front of a shop with a sign resembling a wolf. Unlike many of the other local establishments, its storefront was made entirely of glass; all its wares were on full display for any passersby to see.
“Wait uhmm… Lia? Why are we in front of a pet store?” squeaked Sylvia, as she stared down an over-enthused dog. The panting mutt was wagging its tail with such vigour it almost looked like the propeller was about to fall off.
“Weren’t we going to get you some new clothes?”
“That doesn’t explain why we’re at a pet shop,” said the fox. “I don’t wear pet clothes, I wear person clothes!”
Lia scratched the back of her head. “The local tailors might have had something if we were in Paunse, but there aren’t too many cat-siths here in Vel’khan.”
“Let’s go inside,” said Claire. “We might be able to find something that fits.”
“Wait! Stop! Claire!” Sylvia grabbed her mount by the ears as she walked through the open door. “You’re giving her the wrong idea!” Nothing she did appeared to slow the lyrkress down, so she turned to the cat instead and squeaked in protest. “I don’t need fox clothes! I need elf clothes! And I only need to wear them when I transform!”
“You can transform?” asked Lia.
“Ignore her. She’s being weird.”
Claire grabbed the fox, pulled her into her arms, and walked into the store. The pet protested by kicking her in the gut, but the playful blows were easily ignored. Even with her stomach under siege, she was able to go about her business and browse the seemingly random assortment of toys, bowls, and brushes that lined the store’s shelves.
Ignoring the would-be essentials, she walked up to one of the far shelves and grabbed a bright red choker. “Let’s get you this.”
“Huh? Why would I want a collar?” asked Sylvia. Seeing an opening, she darted away from the other girl’s weakened grasp and returned to her usual spot on her head.
“You can wear it in all three forms. When you’re a fairy, you can strap it over your shoulders. Like a bandolier. And when you’re an elf, you can wear it like a bracelet.”
“How’s that gonna help cover anything!?”
“I don’t know. But it’s cute.”
Sensing a gaze, Claire looked towards the counter, where she found the shop’s owner, an old kelpfin man, furrowing his brow and scratching the back of his head. Rather than calling out to the strange pair, the retiree-to-be opted instead to clean out his ears whilst mumbling something or other about overwork and auditory hallucinations.
Though they entertained themselves with the various products out on display, the pair left the store without making any purchases. Tal’ihir was warm year round; the man had no dog clothes in stock. A shame, really. Though Sylvia had many a vehement protest to the contrary, the other halfbreed was certain that she could have convinced the canine to try at least one set on.
After departing the pet shop, the pair explained the fox’s circumstances to the confused catgirl and made for the local tailor instead. The portly old elven lady that owned the store was caught off guard by the fox-elf’s transformation, but happily agreed to produce matching elven garments in the half-fox’s two sizes. Both articles were prepared immediately, with the larger already being in stock, and the smaller requiring only a few minutes to craft. Before long, the foxgirl pranced out of the store with her tail following behind her.
“Thanks for the dress, Lia!” Sylvia twirled around as she stepped out into the busy street. She almost ran into three different groups, but never made contact. The four-eared menace would always dance out of the way at the last second, giggling as she left each group more startled than the last.
“You’re very welcome,” said the catgirl, with a smile. “I think that should be it for the shopping. All that’s left now is getting our party registered, but we can put that off if you’re feeling tired. It’s been a long day.”
“I’m fine,” said Claire. “Which temple?”
“I was thinking of visiting Tzaarkus’, but I’m okay with any of them.”
“Which god was that again?” asked the lyrkress.
Paunse, the country of catgirls and cat siths, was not one of Cadria’s neighbours. The vast kingdom of Kryddar stood between them, and the Cadria-Kryddar tensions meant that the borders were often closed to those that came from the mothlands’ direction. While the occasional Paunsean would still make it through, their presence was rare, and any talk of their gods was even rarer.
“Tzaarkus is the god of thunder, lightning, and inspiration,” explained Lia. “He’s one of the two that Paunseans favour.”
“What’s the other one?” askled Sylvia.
The catgirl smiled awkwardly and twiddled her thumbs. “To be honest, I’m not really sure. We know that he’s a celestial and that he’s really nice, but no one seems to know his name.”
“Oh… Wait! That’s gotta be A—Ow!”
Claire flicked the fox’s forehead just hard enough to make her flinch. “Enough talking. Let’s go to the temple,” she said, before lowering her voice. “It’s better if she doesn’t know.”
“Really? Why?”
“You might get smited. By Flitzegarde. There’s a reason they don’t already know.”
“Oh yeah…” Sylvia clamped her hands over her mouth. “Oops.”
Saying no more, the pair followed the catgirl and made for the thunder god’s temple.
___
It only took a few minutes for them to arrive at their destination. Tzaarkus’ place of worship was on the smaller side, less than half the size of Flux’s, but still stood at more than five times the width of the average building. Unlike any of Vella’s and Builledracht’s constructs, Tzaarkus’ was relatively plain, to the point where she nearly mistook it for another government office. The building’s facade wasn’t plastered in fancy decorations, nor was its front entrance lined with a hundred hand-carved statues made in the god’s image. The only obvious marker was the symbol on the door—a pair of thunderbolts arranged in a cross.
Claire was unable to determine if it was because the god was meant to be modest, or if his followers lacked the funds to embellish his domain, but either way, the lack of aesthetics had no effect on the temple’s power. She could feel not only the usual pressure that came with nearing a god’s dominion, but also the divinity woven into the fabric of the temple’s grounds. Her own divine power was reacting to it, surging wildly in her shard. It felt like her chest was on fire, albeit without the pain, and the sensation only grew stronger as the distance continued to shrink.
“Claire?” Sylvia grabbed the lyrkress’ hand and stopped right in front of the building’s entrance. Lia had already started ascending the staircase, but the two halfbreeds were still at its base. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is something wrong?” The brunette spun around, but she was quickly dismissed with a shake of the head.
“No.” The rogue made an attempt to start walking again, but another tug stopped her from stepping forward. “What?”
“Promise me you’ll tell me if you start feeling weird.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know, but divinity can be kinda unpredictable. So promise.”
The lyrkress didn’t see a point in the agreement. There was nothing either of them could do before the power of a god. Still, after glancing at her companion, and noting her drooped ears, she decided to respond with a nod. “I promise.”
“Good. Now let’s go!” Sylvia perked up right away, and still holding her hand, started running ahead.
The thought of sabotaging the fox’s attempts to climb the stairs crossed the half-snake’s mind, but she shook it away and allowed the excited canine to drag her wherever she pleased.
A look inside of the temple revealed that there was more activity than she had first thought. Though there weren’t any greeters, there were dozens of workers running to and fro within, ferrying various objects and documents back and forth.
It took her a moment to identify the front desk in all the chaos. The counter the receptionist was standing behind was more akin to a fruit stand than it was anything that belonged in a religious institution, and the rest of the furniture was no different. Shoddy wooden benches were laid out before an equally shoddy stone altar. Everything was perfectly cleaned, of course, but the polish did little to hide the poor quality of the raw materials employed. The rocks had discoloured patches, the wood looked partially burned, and even the papers they used for their documents had charred edges. It almost looked like everything had been subjected to some sort of irrational but intentional damage.
The temple was so different from any other she knew that she would have stood and stared had Sylvia not transported her to their feline companion. Once whole again, the group made its way over to the desk, where its members were greeted by a shark-finned nun.
“Hello, and welcome to the temple of thunder,” said the receptionist, with a toothy smile. “How can I help you today?”
“We’d like to register as a party,” said Lia.
“Of course. One of our priests will be available for that shortly. Will that be all?”
Lia nodded, but Claire shook her head. “I’d also like to pray. If the atrium is available.”
“I’ll need just one second to check,” said the nun.
The habit-wearing shark waited for the rogue’s acknowledgement before walking over to another desk and consulting a large wooden board.
“Are you planning to pray to Tzaarkus?” asked Lia, with a cock of the brow. “I thought you didn’t know who he was.”
“I don’t,” said Claire. But Flux told me to ask the gods for their blessings. “Is that a problem?”
The catgirl shook her head with vigour. “Of course not! He’s an incredibly open-minded god, and I’m sure he’d be glad to listen to your prayers, follower or not.”
“That’s exactly right. Tzaarkus may not be the most well known, but he’s certainly one of the kindest.” When the receptionist returned, by hobbling over on her fin, she did so with a welcoming smile. “It doesn’t look to be booked today, so you’re welcome to use it, but we can’t guarantee that you’ll have it to yourself. Is that okay?”
“It’ll be fine. Thank you.”
“Great. We can start you off there. I’ll have the priest I mentioned earlier head to the atrium as soon as he's ready.”
“Okay,” said Claire.
“Follow me, I’ll show you the way.”
Holding a holy tome to her chest, the nun led the group down through the building’s basement, into a large room kept illuminated only by candlelight.
“I’ll be going back to my post now, but if you’d like someone to escort you back to the surface, then please ring the bell,” said the nun, as she pointed at the metal instrument in question.
“Thanks, we will!” said Sylvia.
After offering a similar set of regards, the group’s other two members walked through the room, and up to the altar enshrined at its center.
Lia got to praying immediately, but Claire was not as eager. She took a moment to focus on the energy raging within her chest before she sat down on her knees, closed her eyes, and placed her clasped hands in her lap.
“O god of thunder and inspiration, lord of the Paunsean perverts and divine protector of Alfred’s creations. I beseech from you a divine trial of a magnitude great enough to invoke your blessing.” The words were spoken quietly, so that the feline beside her would not hear them. “Though I stand not as one of yours, I wish for little but to seek and carry out your will.”
The world around her began to twist and warp as soon as she finished speaking. Even without opening her eyes, she could feel it in her shard. Lackluster and insulting as it was, Tzaarkus had answered her call.
Chapter 149 - The Thunder God’s Temple IV
Claire stuck out an arm and stopped her newest travelling companion from walking out from behind the carriage in front of them. Without a sound, she brought a finger to her lips and motioned for Lia to lie low. But while the catgirl was a soldier, she was not a Cadrian elite; the secret hand signs prompted not a nod of understanding, but a confused tilt of the head.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
The caravan’s driver reacted to the voice with a start. He turned around, eyed the trio suspiciously, and pushed his turberus with a flick of the whip. Making sure that they didn’t follow, he entered the checkpoint by his lonesome. Lia was unbothered by the interaction. She returned his gaze, smiled, and even waved, all while her lyrkrian co-conspirator secretly fumed.
“You were supposed to keep quiet.” Pulling her hand back beneath her cloak, the moose-snake glared at the feline, her lips twisted in displeasure. “We could have followed him. It would have saved us the trouble of dealing with the guards.”
“Trouble?” The domestic shorthair narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Claire… What did you do?”
“It wasn’t my fault,” said the lyrkress. “But we should use a different gate.”
“You know what? I won’t ask. Just follow me, stay quiet, and look pretty.” With a small smile, the catgirl took the lead and entered the checkpoint, right as the man in front of them was cleared.
“Halt. Identify yourselves.” Security was more robust than it had been during Claire’s first visit. There were four more men for a total of six, and each was fully armed and armoured. But though geared for a greater threat, the guards themselves were lax. Even the one who asked for their identities had his hand off the blade strapped to his waste.
“We’re bounty hunters.” Lia pulled a scroll out of her pouch and passed it to the soldier.
He was far from careful with its inspection. He casually raised it to the light and squinted at the stamp adorning its top left corner before passing it right back. “Seems like it. Kill anyone worth mentioning?”
“Just one.” The catgirl presented the bag she was holding and opened it for the guard to see.
Put off by the smell, the kelpfin warrior grimaced and reeled back. He waved at the air in front of him with one fin and covered his snout with the other before leaning in and checking its contents again. “Dear Krebb, is that who I think it is?”
“Vik Sinnue, in the flesh,” said Lia, with a wide, toothy grin.
“With just the three of you?” he said, as he looked over their group. “Great work. Gotta say, I’m impressed.” Laughing, the sharkman extended a fin and thumped the catgirl on the back. “Wait, are you that girl that everyone’s been talking about lately? The one that’s working for Silkroad.”
Lia didn’t openly acknowledge or disparage the claim, and only flashed a brief smile.
“I thought you hunted alone, but I guess that’s on me for believing the rumours. Anyway, great work. Lost a few friends in the force to him myself, when we last tried to raid the place. Might’ve been different underwater, but we couldn’t win against the numbers on land.” He smiled wistfully as he hobbled back to his post. “Now I’m not about to keep you any longer, come in, come in. I’m sure everyone will be delighted to hear that the job is finally done.”
“We’ll make sure to report by the end of the day,” said Lia.
Smiling amicably again, the catgirl walked right through the open gate with her companions in tow. Neither the lyrkress nor the fox were questioned or even brought to attention; the guards had treated them as a part of the girl’s entourage and even looked at them with respect—an interaction that had Claire furrowing her brow.
“See? I told you,” said Lia. “Quick and painless.”
“Yeah! I thought we were gonna get into another fight for sure,” said Sylvia. “Claire was already ready to knock them out again.”
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yeah you were! I saw you clench your fists and everything!”
The lamia averted her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I haven’t been here for long, but I’ve already got a bit of a reputation,” said Lia. She turned a few corners before stopping in front of a shop with a sign resembling a wolf. Unlike many of the other local establishments, its storefront was made entirely of glass; all its wares were on full display for any passersby to see.
“Wait uhmm… Lia? Why are we in front of a pet store?” squeaked Sylvia, as she stared down an over-enthused dog. The panting mutt was wagging its tail with such vigour it almost looked like the propeller was about to fall off.
“Weren’t we going to get you some new clothes?”
“That doesn’t explain why we’re at a pet shop,” said the fox. “I don’t wear pet clothes, I wear person clothes!”
Lia scratched the back of her head. “The local tailors might have had something if we were in Paunse, but there aren’t too many cat-siths here in Vel’khan.”
“Let’s go inside,” said Claire. “We might be able to find something that fits.”
“Wait! Stop! Claire!” Sylvia grabbed her mount by the ears as she walked through the open door. “You’re giving her the wrong idea!” Nothing she did appeared to slow the lyrkress down, so she turned to the cat instead and squeaked in protest. “I don’t need fox clothes! I need elf clothes! And I only need to wear them when I transform!”
“You can transform?” asked Lia.
“Ignore her. She’s being weird.”
Claire grabbed the fox, pulled her into her arms, and walked into the store. The pet protested by kicking her in the gut, but the playful blows were easily ignored. Even with her stomach under siege, she was able to go about her business and browse the seemingly random assortment of toys, bowls, and brushes that lined the store’s shelves.
Ignoring the would-be essentials, she walked up to one of the far shelves and grabbed a bright red choker. “Let’s get you this.”
“Huh? Why would I want a collar?” asked Sylvia. Seeing an opening, she darted away from the other girl’s weakened grasp and returned to her usual spot on her head.
“You can wear it in all three forms. When you’re a fairy, you can strap it over your shoulders. Like a bandolier. And when you’re an elf, you can wear it like a bracelet.”
“How’s that gonna help cover anything!?”
“I don’t know. But it’s cute.”
Sensing a gaze, Claire looked towards the counter, where she found the shop’s owner, an old kelpfin man, furrowing his brow and scratching the back of his head. Rather than calling out to the strange pair, the retiree-to-be opted instead to clean out his ears whilst mumbling something or other about overwork and auditory hallucinations.
Though they entertained themselves with the various products out on display, the pair left the store without making any purchases. Tal’ihir was warm year round; the man had no dog clothes in stock. A shame, really. Though Sylvia had many a vehement protest to the contrary, the other halfbreed was certain that she could have convinced the canine to try at least one set on.
After departing the pet shop, the pair explained the fox’s circumstances to the confused catgirl and made for the local tailor instead. The portly old elven lady that owned the store was caught off guard by the fox-elf’s transformation, but happily agreed to produce matching elven garments in the half-fox’s two sizes. Both articles were prepared immediately, with the larger already being in stock, and the smaller requiring only a few minutes to craft. Before long, the foxgirl pranced out of the store with her tail following behind her.
“Thanks for the dress, Lia!” Sylvia twirled around as she stepped out into the busy street. She almost ran into three different groups, but never made contact. The four-eared menace would always dance out of the way at the last second, giggling as she left each group more startled than the last.
“You’re very welcome,” said the catgirl, with a smile. “I think that should be it for the shopping. All that’s left now is getting our party registered, but we can put that off if you’re feeling tired. It’s been a long day.”
“I’m fine,” said Claire. “Which temple?”
“I was thinking of visiting Tzaarkus’, but I’m okay with any of them.”
“Which god was that again?” asked the lyrkress.
Paunse, the country of catgirls and cat siths, was not one of Cadria’s neighbours. The vast kingdom of Kryddar stood between them, and the Cadria-Kryddar tensions meant that the borders were often closed to those that came from the mothlands’ direction. While the occasional Paunsean would still make it through, their presence was rare, and any talk of their gods was even rarer.
“Tzaarkus is the god of thunder, lightning, and inspiration,” explained Lia. “He’s one of the two that Paunseans favour.”
“What’s the other one?” askled Sylvia.
The catgirl smiled awkwardly and twiddled her thumbs. “To be honest, I’m not really sure. We know that he’s a celestial and that he’s really nice, but no one seems to know his name.”
“Oh… Wait! That’s gotta be A—Ow!”
Claire flicked the fox’s forehead just hard enough to make her flinch. “Enough talking. Let’s go to the temple,” she said, before lowering her voice. “It’s better if she doesn’t know.”
“Really? Why?”
“You might get smited. By Flitzegarde. There’s a reason they don’t already know.”
“Oh yeah…” Sylvia clamped her hands over her mouth. “Oops.”
Saying no more, the pair followed the catgirl and made for the thunder god’s temple.
___
It only took a few minutes for them to arrive at their destination. Tzaarkus’ place of worship was on the smaller side, less than half the size of Flux’s, but still stood at more than five times the width of the average building. Unlike any of Vella’s and Builledracht’s constructs, Tzaarkus’ was relatively plain, to the point where she nearly mistook it for another government office. The building’s facade wasn’t plastered in fancy decorations, nor was its front entrance lined with a hundred hand-carved statues made in the god’s image. The only obvious marker was the symbol on the door—a pair of thunderbolts arranged in a cross.
Claire was unable to determine if it was because the god was meant to be modest, or if his followers lacked the funds to embellish his domain, but either way, the lack of aesthetics had no effect on the temple’s power. She could feel not only the usual pressure that came with nearing a god’s dominion, but also the divinity woven into the fabric of the temple’s grounds. Her own divine power was reacting to it, surging wildly in her shard. It felt like her chest was on fire, albeit without the pain, and the sensation only grew stronger as the distance continued to shrink.
“Claire?” Sylvia grabbed the lyrkress’ hand and stopped right in front of the building’s entrance. Lia had already started ascending the staircase, but the two halfbreeds were still at its base. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is something wrong?” The brunette spun around, but she was quickly dismissed with a shake of the head.
“No.” The rogue made an attempt to start walking again, but another tug stopped her from stepping forward. “What?”
“Promise me you’ll tell me if you start feeling weird.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know, but divinity can be kinda unpredictable. So promise.”
The lyrkress didn’t see a point in the agreement. There was nothing either of them could do before the power of a god. Still, after glancing at her companion, and noting her drooped ears, she decided to respond with a nod. “I promise.”
“Good. Now let’s go!” Sylvia perked up right away, and still holding her hand, started running ahead.
The thought of sabotaging the fox’s attempts to climb the stairs crossed the half-snake’s mind, but she shook it away and allowed the excited canine to drag her wherever she pleased.
A look inside of the temple revealed that there was more activity than she had first thought. Though there weren’t any greeters, there were dozens of workers running to and fro within, ferrying various objects and documents back and forth.
It took her a moment to identify the front desk in all the chaos. The counter the receptionist was standing behind was more akin to a fruit stand than it was anything that belonged in a religious institution, and the rest of the furniture was no different. Shoddy wooden benches were laid out before an equally shoddy stone altar. Everything was perfectly cleaned, of course, but the polish did little to hide the poor quality of the raw materials employed. The rocks had discoloured patches, the wood looked partially burned, and even the papers they used for their documents had charred edges. It almost looked like everything had been subjected to some sort of irrational but intentional damage.
The temple was so different from any other she knew that she would have stood and stared had Sylvia not transported her to their feline companion. Once whole again, the group made its way over to the desk, where its members were greeted by a shark-finned nun.
“Hello, and welcome to the temple of thunder,” said the receptionist, with a toothy smile. “How can I help you today?”
“We’d like to register as a party,” said Lia.
“Of course. One of our priests will be available for that shortly. Will that be all?”
Lia nodded, but Claire shook her head. “I’d also like to pray. If the atrium is available.”
“I’ll need just one second to check,” said the nun.
The habit-wearing shark waited for the rogue’s acknowledgement before walking over to another desk and consulting a large wooden board.
“Are you planning to pray to Tzaarkus?” asked Lia, with a cock of the brow. “I thought you didn’t know who he was.”
“I don’t,” said Claire. But Flux told me to ask the gods for their blessings. “Is that a problem?”
The catgirl shook her head with vigour. “Of course not! He’s an incredibly open-minded god, and I’m sure he’d be glad to listen to your prayers, follower or not.”
“That’s exactly right. Tzaarkus may not be the most well known, but he’s certainly one of the kindest.” When the receptionist returned, by hobbling over on her fin, she did so with a welcoming smile. “It doesn’t look to be booked today, so you’re welcome to use it, but we can’t guarantee that you’ll have it to yourself. Is that okay?”
“It’ll be fine. Thank you.”
“Great. We can start you off there. I’ll have the priest I mentioned earlier head to the atrium as soon as he's ready.”
“Okay,” said Claire.
“Follow me, I’ll show you the way.”
Holding a holy tome to her chest, the nun led the group down through the building’s basement, into a large room kept illuminated only by candlelight.
“I’ll be going back to my post now, but if you’d like someone to escort you back to the surface, then please ring the bell,” said the nun, as she pointed at the metal instrument in question.
“Thanks, we will!” said Sylvia.
After offering a similar set of regards, the group’s other two members walked through the room, and up to the altar enshrined at its center.
Lia got to praying immediately, but Claire was not as eager. She took a moment to focus on the energy raging within her chest before she sat down on her knees, closed her eyes, and placed her clasped hands in her lap.
“O god of thunder and inspiration, lord of the Paunsean perverts and divine protector of Alfred’s creations. I beseech from you a divine trial of a magnitude great enough to invoke your blessing.” The words were spoken quietly, so that the feline beside her would not hear them. “Though I stand not as one of yours, I wish for little but to seek and carry out your will.”
The world around her began to twist and warp as soon as she finished speaking. Even without opening her eyes, she could feel it in her shard. Lackluster and insulting as it was, Tzaarkus had answered her call.
