The Proposition

JP with Winteroak and White_Caribou

Shalia gazed into the remaining tea in her glass and a smirk briefly crossed her lips.
If there was one way to keep a conversation interesting with her, it was ego stroking. There was more than just power to her and yet she often couldn’t identify those pieces confidently. The parts that didn’t get praise or serve the banner, sitting in the depths getting coated by layers of ice.

The woman had to suppress a chuckle when he spoke of the Prophetess once trying to make peace among the faiths. Must have been quite foolish and hopeful then to think it could be done so easily. ‘But we were all young and foolish once,’ she thought solemnly. Fire and ice were sworn enemies until one was entirely destroyed. How it had been for hundreds of years and would continue to be.
There would always be clashes of faith and no one would ever be satisfied with where they stood; Arcadia was a breeding ground for this discourse and it created a buffet for the holy puppets that were Pillar worshippers. Shalia knew better than to have hope for any kind of religious peace once they were involved.

As he spoke of his gods she had but one thought. ~Oh good, another population who hails their gods over others. Fantastic.~

"I, too, was lost in the wild and fated to die, but Noraura had a place in Fang for me if I lived." She spoke matter-of-factly as he had, folding her hands in her lap. “And I did indeed live.”

But for over a thousand years? She certainly hadn’t been given that same longevity by the snowy goddess because she certainly didn't feel immortal, however that felt.
Perhaps because she hadn’t given the whole of herself to a god? Could be that those fragmented shards of self were better off hidden away somewhere so she didn't act on that impulsively. Though, total devotion was even more tempting at the thought of immortality...endless days of magik and her fullest potential.

She wouldn’t poke the religious bear too much unless he did. Likening herself somewhat to the Prophetess was already an overstep for her boundaries, but crossing it felt so natural and thrilling like something to throw back his way.

Shalia eyed his sleeves and repeated the way he gently kissed them over in her head.

She nodded her head toward his robe and the tusks detailed on it, “Is that symbolic of Dust and Water?”

He nodded. Pointing to the banner behind him and the two crossed tusks on a field of green.

The guard behind him holding the banner lifted raised his hand to the flowing cloth and kissed it, bowing his head and whispering a short prayer in their language.

"I'm here to give answer to Koshnem's proposal to Sister's Locust." He said. Shalia knew what the proposal was and knew much could hinge on this meeting.

"The Maelstrom has not been raised in generations. The Sand Horde lays coiled in the desert " he started. "Our Prophetess is coming to the end of her current incarnation and she is not convinced it is her place to raise it." He concluded.

"What can you tell us of the Pillars and the Inquisition?" He asked bluntly.

“The Pillars are five central gods worshipped in Helias. To put it simply, their domains are war, fertility, sky, sea, and death. Helians are taught that it is the way of these Pillars to cleanse the world of witches and to dismantle heretical groups where they are found.” Shalia scowled.

“The Inquisition formed to carry out those teachings long ago, and the folks who rally passionately behind them are flooding into Arcadia on suspicion of magik, wishing to spread the word of the Pillars by any means necessary."

"I’ve encountered many dangerous people in my life, but none as relentless and blindly devout as them. They are no easy foe to face alone and we are the very people they came to tear down.”

Her words were thinly-veiled with hatred.