Page 36 of Fate

“Enough! Our temple was desecrated last month by Lunites, our altars stained with symbols of the moon, our offerings destroyed. Lunos has no place here anymore! We drove out the rest and will drive you out too!”

Helia and I share a look. I’m sure not all followers of Lunos are completely peaceful, but it seems out of place and at odds with what we know of Lunos’s plans. Helia clears her throat, the rumble of it and the sight of her bare arms take the edge off the fire in the priests.

“Did you catch anyone?” she asks. Fierce nods and smirks from the priests confirm her suspicions. “Did they confess to be a worshiper of Lunos?” The elder nods and reaches a hand inside of his tunic, pulling something small out. He tosses it to Helia, who catches it easily with alacrity.

“She had that on her. Pretty damning, don’t you think?”

Helia opens her palm and inhales sharply before tilting her hand to show me. In the dying light, rays of fire and burnished wheat glint across a gold coin emblazoned with the sigil of a crescent moon. The sigil of Lunos.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

HELIA AND I stare at the coin in her hand, the mark of the moon glaring up at us. Exactly like the coins we took from our attackers each time, just with a different divine patron.

“What in the actual fuck is going on?” I can’t help but voice my uncertainty.

The younger priests don’t react but the elder picks up on our confusion. Helia reaches into her tunic and tosses one of our Solon coins to him. He fumbles but manages to eventually clasp his knobby hands around it.

“W-what is this?”

“We’ve been attacked several times over the past months by people carrying those coins.” The priests immediately whisper, disbelief sown like wheat. “Where is this Lunite desecrater?” The elder shakes his head at Helia’s question.

“She took her own life before we reached her. The creepy smile she wore while she cut her throat is something I will never forget.”

An icy trickle runs down my spine. Sounds eerily similar to our prisoner biting off his own tongue. Silence settles between our groups, mulling over the exchange of our coins. Helia moves to return the coin but the elder refuses.

“Keep it. And if you don’t mind, I’ll hold on to this one. I have a feeling we both will need these. You know where to find us and I’ll send word to the Spears if we hear anything, Commander Helia.”

With that, the Solonite priests take their leave, the threat of violence dispersed in mutual confusion and uncertainty. Guess it’s hard to disguise Helia’s frame and fame.

“What do you think Commander?” She runs her calloused fingers across the coin, tracing the curve of the moon. Her eyes unfocused, as though staring into an abyssal well. “Helia?” I place my hand delicately over the coin, as though it will block whatever evil would emanate from it. Helia’s eyes slowly refocus, searching my face, looking for…something.

“I think things just got more complicated. We have to find any surviving priests.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve been asking about us.”

Helia and I spin on our heels and squint in the encroaching darkness. A middle-aged man has somehow snuck behind us without making a sound. He carries himself with a wizened grace, lines beginning to show at the corners of his eyes, and gray streaking his short hair. A simple black gown tied with a simple silver cord is all the adornment he entertains.

“Follow.” The man turns abruptly and heads toward one of the temples in the plaza; Nia the god of the night. Helia and I share a glance; too much is happening too quickly, but we have no choice but to adapt.

***

Entering the temple of Nia, the final sliver of light disappears behind us. Their temple is adorned with purple silks draping elegantly from the stone columns. The ceiling rises high above our heads, culminating in an exposed circular opening, allowing Nia to share their wonder every evening with their followers.

Of which, there are more than I expected, though the temple is by no means packed. All the worshipers sit in devotion staring up at the evolving night sky, Nia painting with their hues of purple and navy. All, except the man who led us here.

He waits at the back of the temple, ready for us to join him. We make our way, staying on the outskirts of the worshipers, none bothering to pay a mote of attention to us. We duck toward the side room the priest has suddenly disappeared into.

The door shuts behind us and with a swift click, our guide locks the door. Helia and I drop into defensive stances, ready to fight, hands grasping for missing weapons.

The priest holds up a hand, quelling impending violence. “Peace. I do not seek your lives. My name is Lyras and I am a priest of Lunos. You have been seeking us, yes?”

Lyras takes a seat at a small table in the middle of the room where a small candle flickers with life. A few makeshift stools sit unevenly around it. I look around the room now that immediate danger seems less likely.

The room is relatively small and judging by the furnishing, a simple and temporary lodging. A small statue dedicated to the moon stands on the tiny desk to the side of a rickety cot. A full moon, divots, craters, all shining bright and hewn in marble. Lyras catches my roaming eye as he takes us in.

“Lunos and Nia have always had a symbiotic dynamic. The priests and priestesses here provided safety for us over the past few months.”

Helia and I pause as we seat ourselves on the temporary stools. Months doesn’t match what the Solonite priest said.