Truth & Secrets

JP with Cindy and Winteroak

Timestamp: Ostiarium forests

The Preacher listened to Islana's questions. In the old days no one with speak with the Boon until the night of their sacrifice.

But the old days were gone. The Creed now lived only in the memory of a few. The old ways almost forgotten. Erased by time and the Inquisition.

"This is a new land for us. We are few in number but strong in our convinctions." He told her his hand still fiddling with his axe.

"Although many are weak." He said looking at the labourer's dead body. "They grew up soft under the shadow of false gods." She knew he would have spat then if he was not wearing a mask.

"But I can see what others can't. A Gift from Him. Slivikhi's vision. I can see your blood, child. And how it holds ancient secrets..."

What he said made sense and Islana, while she didn't know numbers, had more of an understanding of amount of the followers.

His last statement though was confusing, ancient secrets? "I do not understand. How does my blood hold ancient secrets?" If that was true - the animals - did he know that she could get animals to come to her?

If she could see his face, she would see that he was grinning.
"Since Men first walked the lands of Helias, the gods have always decreed that those that could tap into the Maleficium should not live." He told her. "That tenet is probably the only teaching that passed on from the old gods to the usurpers..." He paused rolling his muscular shoulders. "Suffer not a witch to live..." He uttered the familiar words that iced the blood of everyone with abilities.

Islana felt herself catching her breath and her very soul shiver with those words. "Suffer not a witch to live...".

It echoed in her ears, certainly not the first time hearing it but certainly the first time in relation to herself. She never remembered a time when animals would not come to her but the young woman did recall her family telling her over and over to not let anyone else know. She had been careful, very careful. How did he know? Omen.... ? But the man had not said anything about her getting something from a witch but that she herself had a gift. Which, in Islana's mind, meant he knew about her gift.

"How .....How could you know?" There seemed to be no point in denying it.

"Slivikhi's gift, red child." He told her. "He let's me see your kind." He said laughing. "There are so many walking the streets of Ostiarium. So many that came here to escape the Inquisition and the old ways. So many that the Arbiter, Daughter of Shame would have trouble dealing with all." He told Islana. He knew her secret. And it didn't matter how small of a secret it seemed she knew if it came out her life was forfeit.

Fear over took the young woman and despite it being a probably pointless endeavour, Islana got up and tried to flee. Her only thoughts being she had to get out of this place and away from the man wearing the boars' head.

The Preacher was slightly surprised by how fast and nimble the young woman was. She almost caught him of guard, but before she could bolt outside hen dropped the axe and reached out for her.

His large arms managed to wrap around her legs before she could reach the burrows' entrance. She kicked and slithered but he held her firm in his vice like grip. Pulling her closer to his own chest he said:

"Hush child. Not long now. Not long until the last moonrise of winter..."

Islana felt the fear in her rise as he grabbed her and then held her tight. The young woman couldn't get away from the man's grasp, even if him holding her like that was making her nauseous. There was no escape. None. What if no one found her time?

Her head hurt, she felt like her breath was just out of reach of grasp. Despite, every amount of willpower the young woman had put into not crying. It was at that moment she lost her composure and began to cry.