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Striding through my city this time, I didn’t show any hurry like I had when I’d worried about Sybil‘s safety. Maybe Nievtala would have some complaints about that, but I couldn’t bring myself to care if I arrived a few minutes later than she preferred. For now, my people were recovering from yet another round of siege, and everything that I knew pointed to the fact that it would only get bloodier and costlier by the day. They deserved to see me walking confidently through the streets, unworried about everything more than the immortal goddess in my head needed me to stand in her temple right this moment.

“Get some rest,” I said to an injured alpha that’d excitedly jumped out to me when I walked by. “You’ll be back on the wall tomorrow, I’m sure. For now, the uninjured will take your place on the walls. If anything else happens tonight, though, no one will tell you not to get back on the wall.”

She bared her teeth in pride and stepped back. Some of her subordinates walked with her, and she walked with pride. Another walked forward, and, though many of my people were beginning to wear open chested robes in an approximation of what I myself did, I could tell by the cut of his robe that he was a member of the priesthood, the Unbroken Blade.

“My Zaaktif,” he said, bowing to me, “I was told to escort you to the temple. Shraal has received a vision and requires your presence.”

“I’m aware,” I said, flaring my frills. “I’m on my way. However, I am seeing to my people first.”

The priest bowed to me, though I did see some measure of confusion in his bearing as he accepted my words.

“You’re wondering why I’m not going immediately to hear the words of our goddess, correct?” I asked.

“I would never dare to question your authority.” He seemed terrified at the thought of showing me disrespect, but I waved off the nervousness as I was correct about his worries.

“It’s not a bad question. After all, the goddess has requested my presence at the temple. However, the temple and our worship of Nievtala would not continue to exist without all of the defenders who have braved the walls and defended them against the heretics who would purge us. If we faltered, the Misti Hawar wouldn't hesitate to eradicate the worship of Nievtala from the world, if they had the opportunity. If I were to ignore those who are willing to bleed and die for me, I wouldn’t be much of a leader.”

The priest bowed deeper to me and said, “Your wisdom has brightened my mind.”

I fought to hide the surge of pride that swelled within me at that. That smallest part of me that still thought it was human seemed to retreat at the thought that I was treated as some great wise man, but the Keel and Zaaktif preened at the thought, even if I didn’t deserve to consider myself particularly intelligent for thinking of the long term.

“The Unbroken Blades' presence on the walls was not missed,” I said as much to distract myself as anything else. “Return to the temple and tell Shraal I will arrive shortly. First, I will see to my people.”

The priest said nothing as he bowed and turned to do as I commanded. In truth, I didn’t have much else to say to those people around me, only to give what comfort I could and to continuously spread the influence of my Cultivating Presence to everyone I passed by. I was only a few minutes behind that priest whose name I didn’t know when I arrived at the temple. There, I came upon a sight that I hadn’t expected.

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Two priests stood at the doorway of the temple, ushering in dozens of the Saharliard. Evidently, there was something I hadn’t expected happening here, and as I walked in, the voices of my people made it abundantly clear what was happening.

“Torture them!”

“Eat them!”

“Bleed them dry!”

In the front of the temple’s main room stood Shraal with his hands spread wide behind the altar. Tied to the altar were three struggling Misti Hawar, their eyes lolling in their head. Blood crusted in their fur, and their faces seemed to twist in pain as I stepped forward. The spotted patterns in their fur seemed darker than what I’d seen in other Misti Hawar, pulsing with shadows that came from within our enemies.

While I approached, Shraal’s voice cut through the jeers of the crowd.

“These are they who would eat your children! These are they who would slaughter us all! They would trample on your corpse and call it a blessing to the world! Their heresy is not only in how they think themselves superior to Nievtala’s chosen, but in how they would destroy the very worship of her! Who here saw her condescension? Who here witnessed her holy visage?”

Dozens of mouths howled their remembrance of Nievtala’s descent, and I watched as Shraal drove them into a greater fury by the minute. Just when I was convinced he would spill the blood of the slowly stirring prisoners, he shifted the focus of his sermon from the horrors of the Misti Hawar.

“Summoned by our goddess arrives our Zaaktif! As her voice and representative upon the world, he will bring upon those who have slain your fellows justice.”

At that, Shraal bowed to me and stepped aside. My people, many of whom had noticed my presence as a shining silver giant was a difficult sight to miss, turned towards me as I walked forward. The thronging masses stilled and went silent, though susurrations of my title and name filled the temple nearly as reverently as Nievtala’s.

I walked carefully, attempting to evaluate what I should do. I mostly wanted to kill the bastards. After all, this wasn’t a simple disagreement we were having with them, but a fight for survival. However, a part of me argued that I needed to show some measure of mercy, not because they deserved it, but because doing so would prove to other nations that our existence didn’t need to be a threat. We were powerful enough to lay claim to these mountains, to maintain control, but didn’t need to be a threat unless threatened ourselves.

This is why I called for you.

Nievtala’s presence settled over me, and I felt the inevitability of choice. There was no option but to entertain her for now, and I knew what she would command me to do. There was the question if I would do what she commanded, but her thoughts aligned with my own.

They have been strengthened by Illan’Klli. That shadow within their spots? It’s adding depth to their magic, and it comes through the hunting and sacrifice of their prey. They have murdered my children. I did not make this a holy war, but now that it has become one, summon my strength. Bless my children. Destroy your enemies. Conquer your foes.

She continued speaking to me, her voice growing more powerful in my head but she didn’t need to force me. Her words alone convinced me of the necessity of doing this.

“No mercy to egg smashers,” I declared as I gestured to Shraal to hand over the ceremonial dagger. He smiled widely as he did so, and I did what I had done all that time ago outside the walls of Dunbach. This time, instead of making a display to my enemies of the danger we posed to them, I showed my people that we would defend ourselves at the same level that our enemies were.

The dagger fell. Blood covered my arms. Three lives were lost. And Nievtala’s presence filled the temple with an overwhelming feeling of strength and rage.

The effect did little to me, as accustomed to her presence as I was, but I watched with my mouth hanging open as I watched my goddess change my people.

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