Nauched sat up immediately. Her senses opened to the night, straining to find what had woken her from her nap. Far away she saw a palace of white and a pool of red. A frown marred her pale beauty and she stood swiftly, slipping off the bed in a swirl of black silk. Down starlit halls she marched, stepping through a doorway and into a stone corridor. Two corners and another door and she emerged into a large chamber. Thrones sat in a row in the middle of the room, four on either side and one larger throne on a raised platform at the end. The room was vacant except for an old figure slumped in the largest throne, deep in slumber.
“Raased!”
Dress billowing behind her in black wisps of fabric, Nauched glided to the throne. No response came from the sleeping man. Her frown deepened as Nauched came to stand before the throne. Hands settled on thin hips and she tapped her foot in annoyance.
“This is not the time to be sleeping, Raased. Wake up!”
He rolled over in his throne so that he sat facing away from her, still deep in sleep.
Rolling her eyes, Nauched pulled a black fan from a fold in her dress. “Men!”
Swiftly the fan descended, smacking the sleeping man flat on the top of his head. With a snort of surprise, pupil-less eyes popped open. The man took a moment to reorient himself before looking at Nauched with a question in his eyes.
“Can I help you, dear?”
Annoyance tainted her tone as Nauched replied. “Your priest.”
That earned a blank stare from Raased. “What about him?”
Instead of answering, Nauched waited for understanding to dawn on her husband’s face. Slowly, the tired features became more alert and Raased’s face darkened with displeasure. “This will not do.”
In a blink, the god was gone.
Jesson knocked on the Captain’s door for the fifth time. “Ravi? Open up will you?”
No answer came from behind the closed door. Jesson sighed and was about to turn away in defeat when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Blinking, Jesson turned to stare at the older man in surprise. Hair that was pure white in color fell past the man’s shoulders. He looked very old and very young at the same time, so that Jesson wasn’t sure what his real age might be. His clothes were of an old style that Jesson hadn’t seen in a long while, and of rich cut. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to meet the man’s eyes. The man was not a member of their crew but Jesson had no idea where he’d come from. They were sailing in the middle of the ocean and hadn’t seen land or come near another ship for two days.
“Let me try.”
Without knocking, the man put his hand on the knob and turned. The door swung open easily, even though Jesson knew without a doubt that it had been locked.
“What the Hell...”
Ravi’s tirade changed direction as he caught sight of the unfamiliar man.
“Who the Hell...”
The strange man smiled as he cut Ravi off mid-rant. “I have something I want you to do, Captain?”
Ravi blinked at the man but he didn’t have time to say anything as the strange man lifted one hand and snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the three men were in an entirely different room. They’d gone from a messy wooden cabin to a lavish room decorated in white. All eyes immediately fell on the floor of the room, where a pool of red was growing in stark contrast to the white room. A figure lay slumped in the center of the pool.
“Modigan’s Grace!” Ravi’s eyes widened to saucers and he rushed forward to scoop up the figure.
“Teylin! Teylin!” The priest showed no signs of life as Ravi shook him roughly.
Jesson stood stunned as Ravi cradled the still form of the young priest. A silver object jutted from Teylin’s chest, his immaculate white robes dyed red with blood. Vaguely Jesson wondered if he was imagining everything. That was the only way to explain how they’d gone from their ship to this room. But even in his imagine, he’d never picture the High Priest of Raased dead like this.
A comforting hand was placed on Jesson’s shoulder for a brief second and he turned to find the strange man starting at the scene before them. Slowly, the man moved towards Teylin.
“I’m sorry that I’m late.”
Ravi looked up as the man knelt next to him. Gently, the man reached and pulled the silver object from Teylin’s chest while the Captain watched in a daze. The man ran a hand over Teylin’s brow to brush the hair away from his forehead before leaning down to place a light kiss on Teylin’s brow.
“Forgive me, my child.”
A calm descended on Jesson as he watched the scene, and he had the feeling there was much more going on here than he understood.
“Who are you?”
The strange man turned to Jesson to speak but was cut off as a group of people burst through the doors to Teylin’s chambers. Three priests in robes and an old man were accompanied by what looked like five guards. Jesson immediately realized how bad their situation looked, with the three of them surrounding Teylin’s dead body.
“What is going on here?” The old man spat at them in a furious rage, his eyes blazing.
“My Lord Raased.”
Everyone froze at that moment, all eyes turning to where Teylin weakly blinked his eyes open. Jesson followed Teylin’s stare and suddenly things became a lot clearer to him.
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