Time and Again, Chapter 1

Date: Rymoj the 12th, 713 CD

Jenna walked through the bustling streets of Soldarm, ducking in and out of the crowds of felines. The sun glistened off her fur, and her tail twitched from side to side as she strolled happily along from one merchant’s stall to the next. It was a beautiful day, and she was shopping. What more could a tigress ask for?
Jenna quite often spent her time shopping. She enjoyed browsing the stalls to see what was being sold, and enjoyed haggling even more. Seeing what treasures she could pick up cheap. Jena was a fairly good haggler, she knew how to get the price she wanted, and she used every asset at her disposal.
Jenna was dressed for haggling today.
Jenna was beautiful and she knew it. Large blue eyes, long legs, and an ample bosom; she was the complete package. Today she was wearing a tight low cut shirt, showing off her mid rift, along with the shortest skirt she could find. This, of course, is why she preferred to haggle with male merchants. All she had to do was find a merchant who would do anything for a pretty face (and body) and she could get away with buying his goods for cheaper than what he paid for them.
Jenna caught eyes with another tiger walking through the marketplace with his girlfriend. Almost unconsciously she stuck out her chest a little more and began to parade past them, swaying her hips. She smirked as, out of the corner of her eye, she caught him watching her with hunger in his eyes, and saw his girlfriend smack him. This was another reason Jenna loved shopping: the crowds of felines and the attention she got from them. She really had no interest in the guy, he was too plain for her liking and she could easily get someone better looking. It was just the fact that Jenna had something the other girl didn’t, and now they both knew it. If the other girl can’t keep her guy in line, that’s her problem.
Jenna purchased a diamond necklace and was inspecting it as she left the merchants square and headed down the back alleys to her home. It was probably fake, but beautiful nonetheless, and she got it for far cheaper than it should have been sold for either way. She knew it was not a magical illusion though. Magic has long since been banned from the Merchant’s Square in the center of town. Rumor has it that a feline with some sort of a dispel magic aura walked passed a stall, just as someone tried to purchase an illusionary item (which they thought was real), with some illusionary gold (which the merchant thought was real). The resulting spell battle destroyed a large section of the city. Since then the city’s wizards have kept the merchant’s square in a magic dead zone, and all felines wishing to do any sort of magical business are forced to go to the outskirts of town.
The noise of the Merchant’s Square soon died off behind her. The back streets of the city were very quiet in comparison, occasionally Jenna would hear children playing, a baby crying, or felines arguing, but those sounds were off in the distance and she was left with only her own thoughts for company.
‘That last merchant was kind of cute’ Jenna thought to herself as she turned down another alley ‘I wonder if he lives around here, I may want to hook up with him some ti…’
An arm wrapping around her waist interrupted her thoughts and she was pulled into the nearby shadows. Jenna tried to shout in alarm but a paw covered her mouth and muffled the noise. She fell backwards and lay sprawled on top of whoever grabbed her. Jenna continued to feebly scream in fear, the paw still muffling the noise, as her assailant extended the claws on his other paw and held them against her neck.
“Now now, none of that,” Whispered a malicious voice in her ear. Jenna would sware it sounded just like Cile, the lion god of death himself, come to claim her soul. “I like it when you squirm, but if your going to make a lot of noise I’ll just have to rip out that pretty little throat of yours.”
Fear gripped Jenna and froze her blood, silencing her immediately. She tried franticly to force air through her attackers paw as her fur prickled all the way down her spine, her legs and arms went almost numb. Even her face felt like it was tingling.
“My my, you are a pretty one, aren’t you?” said the attacker, bringing his head down and licking at her neck. “What’s your name?”
Jenna shut her eyes tightly and tried to pull away but he roughly held her still.
“What’s your name?” her attacker growled insistently.
Thinking it best try to answer him and talk her way out of this she began to respond, “Jenn…er…Jane.” Jenna caught herself and managed to lie as her attacker held her close.
“Really, well mine’s Bemos.” The voice introduced itself. “And now that we’re properly acquainted…” He moved his paw to her chest, and ripped open her shirt with his claws. Jenna yelped as his claws cut into her breast, causing her blood to trickle free over her fur. She practically whimpered in fear and tears fell freely from her eyes as he proceeded to roughly fondle her.
“You know,” he whispered, and Jenna flinched as she felt his breath in her ear, “You remind me of someone I know, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just call you Jenna instead.”
Jenna tensed and bit down her lip. How could he know her name? Had he been stalking her? Jenna could only lie there in fear, her lip trembled as her teeth sank it into it, and she could taste the blood in her mouth. She felt sick, her legs were jelly, her body wouldn’t respond and it twitched involuntarily. She could only take quick, shallow, panicked breaths, as the bile rose in the back of her throat.
“Do you have a little lion in you?” Bemos asked, as he once again began to lick her neck. “No? Well you will in a minute.” The creature chuckled at his own cruel joke.
Jenna choked down the bile and found her voice again; she took a quick breath and let out a shrill blood-curdling scream, but Bemos’ paw was already over her mouth, blocking most of the noise.
“Tisk tisk,” her attacker whispered,  “What have you been told? Well, if you’re just going to be difficult about it…” And with that he pulled back one of his arms and began to search for something, found it, and then held his arms out in front of him and began chanting in the arcane tongue of wizards. Jenna could clearly see that he was holding a vial of blood
‘Oh gods, he’s a wizard.’ Jenna thought, ‘and he’s going to kill me. He’s going to rape me, and kill me, and take my blood for his twisted spells, and trap my spirit to torture for eternity…’
These thoughts were circling through her head as her attacker finished casting his spell. The blood in the vial vanished and Jenna felt something dark and evil grip her mind. She tried to resist it as she felt her body go numb... No, not numb, she could still feel his nauseating touch. It was something else, a feeling she couldn’t name. Jenna began praying to any god who would listen to save her.
“There.” Said the voice, “How do you feel now?”
Jenna felt sick, like she was going to vomit, she wanted to make herself vomit, but her body just wouldn’t obey.
Jenna moaned, rubbed against the wizard and murmured, “I’m horny”.
‘What!? No… NO!’ Jenna screamed inside her head, but her mouth wouldn’t say the words. She tried to move, tried to force her body away from her attacker, tried to do anything, but her body wouldn’t respond. Her mind raced, this was far beyond any fear she had ever known; she had lost all control over her body, and it was acting against her will.
“Of course you are. It’s a dandy little spell, of my own making too. Oh sure, I could hold your body so you can’t move, but it just doesn’t feel the same. I could charm your mind, but what’s the fun in that? This is much better. Your body obeys my every command and whim, whilst your mind stays intact. What do you think?”
“Brilliant my lord.” Jenna moaned.
Jenna’s eyes opened wide in shock. At least, they would have if she had any control over them. Jenna mentally threw herself against the walls of her mind, trying to force her body to obey, to control something, her toes, anything! She screamed inside her head but the noise refused to come out of her mouth.
Jenna rolled over and faced her attacker. “Fuck me” She begged.
With a twisted smile Bemos pushed her off him and stood up, “As you wish.”
Jenna couldn’t stop her hands from taking off her skirt. She couldn’t control her eyes as they finally caught sight of her attacker as he removed his robes. He was indeed a lion, probably in his fifties. He had five scars along the side of his face as though someone had clawed him in hit youth. Jenna wanted to reopen those scars, to rip open his throat, to tear out his heart, but she couldn’t. She could do nothing but sob with impotent rage inside her head, lying there naked, and watch as he slowly came forward to violate her, an evil grin splayed across his face and hunger in his eyes.
There was a sudden flash of light, and Bemos jolted as something struck him in the back. The smile on his face quickly darkened to a scowl and his concentration was lost. Freed from the spell, Jenna huddled on the ground weeping, and began to retch. Bemos growled and turned around, seeing one of the city’s guardsmen at the entrance to the alley, presumably the wizard who attacked him. Behind the wizard was a young tiger cleric; around the cleric’s neck was a necklace with a blind eye, the holy symbol of Delm.
Bemos had no time for the cleric, those loyal to Delm rarely got involved in any sort of conflict, and he saw no reason that now should be different. It’s not like this was the first girl he had raped. He had been using the blood of his previous victims to trap the next one for years. Both Bemos and the city guard lapsed into spell casting, preparing to attack one another.
As Bemos turned his attention to the guard, the cleric rushed towards Jenna as quickly as he could. Lights flashed back and forth as the mages battled in the alley, but he didn’t interfere. He was forbidden to. Jenna lay in a ball on the ground crying, her stomach purged and her mind shattered. The cleric removed his cloak as he got near to her and draped it over her naked form.
“Come on miss, we have to get out of here.” He silently urged her, but she didn’t seem to hear. She seemed unaware of where she was, or what was happening, all she could do was weep.
There was a loud boom as magic continued to collide in the alley, and the cleric knew he had to get her out of there. Knowing what she had just been through he hated to do it, but he forcefully picked her up and began to half carry, half drag her away. She resisted at first, but it was half hearted, and she numbly allowed herself to be dragged away.
Bemos, sensing his prey escaping, cursed and cast one of his more powerful spells, pointing at the guard’s heart as he finished. The guard’s body jerked and he stopped casting mid-spell. His eyes glazed over, his mouth began to froth, and the front of his shirt began to stain red as his heart exploded.
Bemos immediately felt the after effects of the casting, his mind growing noticeably wearier as the guard’s corpse collapsed in front of him. He was about to turn and pursue his escaping victim, when he saw a pillar of fire reach up into the sky from the dead body. Surely it was a signal to all of the other guards in the city that one of their own had fallen. Bemos cursed his luck. Knowing he would soon be surrounded in moments and outnumbered, He activated one of his magical rings, and disappeared.

***

“Here we are.” The cleric said to Jenna as they approached the temple of Delm, the god of knowledge. Jenna’s mind was still reeling, she was somewhat aware of where she was now, and where she was going, but was having problems trying to coherently fit her thoughts together, and she didn’t bother to respond. The cleric led her into the temple, to an empty room filled with books.
“Just, um… just wait here a moment miss,” the cleric stammered, “And I will, uh fetch… somebody who can better help you.” And with that he started to rush towards the door.
“Wait…” Jenna stopped him at the doorway, “I… um… thank you.”
“Oh… No, no need to thank me miss, I…”
“Jenna.” She interrupted him silently.
“P-pardon?”
“My name, it’s Jenna.” She introduced herself and politely held out her hand, accidentally causing the cloak, which barely covered her, to open up. “Gods!”  Jenna shouted, wrapping the cloak around her again with both arms and turning away embarrassed.
“It, erm… It’s okay mis…er… Jenna,” The cleric responded, politely turning away “Just give me one a moment… and I will find you some clothes, or, get someone to find you some cloths… one of the female acolytes should…” He trailed off.
Jenna glanced over her shoulder at Jaxol. Something seemed… odd. Something was missing, in his voice. “Um, I… didn’t get your name.”
“Oh, I-I’m sorry, how rude of me, of course, my name is, uh, Jaxol.” The cleric bowed politely.
Something in his eyes seemed to be missing too. Something that Jenna couldn’t quite place…
The hunger.
All guys, (and even some women) she had come across had a hunger, a desire for her, even when she was fully clothed. The male in Merchant Square had it, the merchant she bought the necklace from had it, her attacker, Jenna shuddered at the memory, had it… Dressed as she was now, she would have expected any guy to be all over her. That’s what Jaxol was missing, the desire.
“You… you don’t… desire me?” she asked out loud, confused, and immediately berated for sounding like a stupid tramp.
Jaxol coughed in shocked nervousness and looked away again. “I-I’m sorry?”
“Do you not… desire me?” Jenna repeated quietly looking at the floor, embarrassed at herself, but needing to know.
“No, I... I mean it’s not that… it’s just…” Jaxol looked at her quizzically, “I mean, don’t get me wrong; you are pleasant to look at...”
Pleasant to look at? Jenna didn’t know how she felt about that… an hour ago she would have been disgusted that she was merely ‘pleasant’…
“I’m just more interested in things, you know, beyond appearance,” Jaxol continued, “and with the whole unpleasantness it hasn’t really…”
“Yes, right, of course…” Jenna interrupted quietly, turning away and sitting on the floor, embarrassed and disgusted at her self. ‘Gods…’ she thought ‘I’m just a stupid fucking whore…’
“If, um… if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just… go and, uh, find you some clothing.” and with that Jaxol abruptly left the room before she could ask him anything else, closing the door quickly behind him.
Rushing quickly down and around the corner, Jaxol crashed right into the High Priest.
“M-my apologies, s-sir.” Jaxol bowed low and kept his eyes on the ground, while trying to straighten out his robe.
“There you are Jaxol, I was looking for you.” The High Priest responded calmly while smoothing out his shirt.
“Me?” Jaxol squeaked, the cleared his throat, “W-what for sir?”
“Our lord Delm sees all, and knows all that has, is, and will happen. He knows what effect any minor action will have 1000 years from now, and could shape the history of Mytharen the way he wants it with the movement of but a speck of dust. However he does not, he and his brother Maebon, the god of magic, did not create the world so that all felines could be mealy puppets on a string doing as he decrees. He allows everyone to make their own decisions free from his influence, even if he knows the results will be disastrous, so that we may exercise our own free will.
“You know this Jaxol, and yet, you have taken it upon yourself to interfere. We are historians Jaxol, and that is all. I understand how this can be hard for you, every once in a while we get an acolyte in here that wants to save the world. We are unable to do that, it is forbidden. Do you understand me?”
“Y-yes sir.” Jaxol responded softly, his eyes focused on the floor.
“When Delm grants us sight into events of the past, present, or future, we cannot abuse that privilege. We can’t go running around interfering with everything just because we don’t like it, trying to make all of Mytharen the way we want it! We are to observe, and record, that is all.”
“I understand sir.” Jaxol replied quietly.
“So why did you do it?”
“Do what sir?”
“Why did you save the girl?”
“I was instructed to sir.”
“Instructed? Who on Mytharen would tell you to do such a thing?”
“Our lord Delm sir.”
Silence hung in the air as the High Priest glared at Jaxol, nearly trembling with anger, before sternly stating “I expect you to be in my office in thirty minutes,” and storming off.

***

Jenna paced the room restlessly. A young female acolyte brought her clothes a few minutes ago, and then asked her politely not to leave, as ‘someone would be along shortly to talk to record what had happened for the historical records’. The room was filled with books, and she was looking through them for something to distract her mind from the recent events. A section in one book caught her eye and she began reading through it….
<font size=5>The Life of Cile, Lion God of Death and War</font>
Recorded by Narott, historian and priest of Delm
My lord Delm has granted me sight into the past so that I may record the events that transpired resulting in the first mortal to rise to godhood. Some surrounding details have been hidden from me, most due to irrelevancies, some, such as the lich ritual, in order to hide the knowledge from future generations. However, I feel I have all the necessary details to fill in the relevant history.
Cahlend was angry. His previous attempt to disrupt and destroy Mytharen, the creation of his sons Delm and Maebon, had failed due to the stupidity of these ‘mortals’. Cahlend was determined to destroy his children’s plaything from within, in order to renew the fear and respect they once had for him. Delm and Maebon continued to disobey, and he knew one day they would openly oppose him. Chalend immediately set to work on his new plan, and on gaining an ally.

Cile never knew his mother; she died in labour shortly before giving birth to him. Luckily the quick thinking mid wife cut open the womb with her own claws and saved the child giving it a slim chance at life. The lion tribes at the time were very superstitious, and forbade all magic. They didn’t even have their own god to worship, and as such, they had no clerics either. Cile’s chances of survival, after such a hard birth, with no mother and no curative magic, were practically nil. The child some how managed to hold on to life, but life only got harder on him. Cile was born with a curse.
It was a curse that any other race would consider a blessing. Cile was born with a natural talent and affinity for magic, the ability to cast spells without any training and little thought or effort. He was a sorcerer, the most powerful one who had ever existed. In a lion tribe, it only marked him as a demon.
The first time the power manifested itself in Cile, he was only four months old and too young to speak or understand. Two women of the tribe were feeding him some cooked meat, one of the women was about to feed him a small piece when she it felt it twitch in her hand. She screamed and dropped it on the ground. The other chided her for being clumsy and bent to pick it up, but fell backwards as it visibly jumped away from her grasp. Both women fled the scene and left the giggling child unattended.
Upon hearing what happened, Gengin, Cile’s father and leader of the tribe, rebuked the women for being too fanciful, and sent them away. However, over the next couple of weeks Gengin began to notice strange occurrences happening when he was in the presence of his son. Worried for Cile’s safety, Gengin took to the tribe’s healer to try to ‘exorcise the demon’. The healer was sworn to secrecy about this meeting, on pain of death. All the healer’s herbs and remedies had no effect on the child, and soon Gengin just kept Cile shut away in his hut, no one being allowed to see the child but Gengin himself.
Cile had a difficult upbringing. He didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed out of the hut to play with the other children. He slowly learned the rules, but they never made sense to him. He was allowed to speak with his father, but when other tribesmen came he had to be quiet. He had to sleep even when he wasn’t tired, and when he woke no one else was to be woken up. Most importantly, he was not to use the power, even though doing so was as natural as walking or breathing. For when he did, his father who rarely ever touched him would beat him all night. Then the healer would come and he’d be forced to eat poor tasting herbs and fowl smelling broths all of which made him sick for a week.
Years passed, after Cile turned eleven Gengin no longer saw his son using his power. A year passed without incident, for Cile learned to use his power only in private when he knew for certain he could not be seen. Gengin was sure that the demon had fled, and finally allowed his son outside of the hut to see the rest of the tribe and play with the other children.
But his difficult upbringing forever touched him. He always appeared cold and distant, out of touch with his surroundings. He never got along with the other children either, though he did run with the other children and play fight on occasion, it never really seemed like he considered it ‘play’.
Rumors spread quickly through the tribe about Cile, due to his being locked away for twelve years and his strange behavior. Some said that when his mother died, his soul followed hers to the afterlife, and all the remained was an empty shell. Others said that he was a demon, and devoured the soul of his mother before leaving the womb.
None of these rumors were spoken too loudly though, out of fear that Gengin would overhear, for he was fiercely protective of his son. After Gengin nearly killed the first tribesman he heard spreading rumors about his son, the rest of the tribe learned quickly to keep it quiet, and to ‘never speak ill of the demon child when his father is about’.
Shortly after his thirteenth birthday, Cile went wandering through the forest with some of the other young boys in the tribe, against the permission of their fathers. While out there, they were attacked by robbers. The children tried to defend themselves as best they could with the weapons they brought with them, but were no match for the thieves. Cile’s power seemed to act on its own accord protect him. One of the boys took a mortal wound across the neck but did not go down. Another was stabbed through the heart; he fell on the ground, and then stood back up again, fighting more viciously than before.
Eventually all of the robbers were killed or chased off, leaving Cile, a couple of zombie children, and one other living boy. Now that the fight was over, the other boy saw the zombies for what they were and fled screaming back to the village. Cile did not understand and he chased the boy in confusion. The zombies dumbly followed their master.
The screams off the boy brought the entire tribe out of their tents, and they saw Cile come running with the zombies trailing. The tribes’ members pulled back in fear of the demon child, and held up signs of warding. Cile looked around confused until he saw his father, instinctively he pulled all his power back to him, and the zombies collapsed on the spot.
Gengin was furious; he took Cile to their tent and beat him for a day and a night, summoned the healer and forced him to consume some many broths and herbs that his stomach purged itself all night until his vomit was red with blood. Then Gengin had him placed in a small dark tent at the edge of the village for a month as punishment. Gengin posted his most trusted guards outside the tent, more to protect Cile from the tribe than to enforce the punishment.
Cile did not stay in the tent for a month though. He knew he made a mistake, and wanted to find a way to make it up to his father. Thinking his father would forgive him if he brought his mother back to life, he used his power again to sneak out late in the night and go to her grave. Cile still didn’t understand the difference between life and undeath, if someone was moving, then they were alive. The skeleton of his mother dug itself out of the grave, and followed Cile to his father’s tent. When Cile awoke his father, Gengin saw the skeleton, and even in his shock, fear, and disgust recognized the amulet around its neck as the one that his wife was buried with.
“How… how DARE you!” Gengin yelled as he slowly reached for his sword, “Desecrating your moth… my wife like that! You are a curse upon me, a curse upon my tribe, and even a curse upon our dead!” With that Gengin charged Cile, sword drawn. Cile screamed, the power went out from him and hit Gengin with such force he blacked out before he hit the main support of the tent, causing it to crumple on top of him. Cile fled into the forest, his mother’s skeleton following dumbly behind him.
The tribe hunted Cile for years, and he did what he had to do in order to survive. At first it was small hunting parties, but Cile was able to kill them using the reanimated corpses of wolves, bears, eagles, even rabbits, any wildlife he could find. When the next group came, they found themselves fighting against the zombified bodies of their fallen comrades.  As time went on, Cile’s power grew exponentially. The tribe continued to hunt him, and Cile’s undead army continued to grow.
Eventually Gengin led the entire tribe in war against his son, leaving none behind, in order to finally rid the forests of the demon. They were slaughtered. Cile surrounded himself with the animated bodies of his tribe members and spread death across the land. He grew angry with the gods, for forsaking the lions, for forsaking him and forcing him the live such an existence where he was outcast from his family, and forced to kill his own tribe. Cile nurtured his power, forced it to grow as he plotted his revenge against the gods.
Cile recognized that his living body was weak, while the bodies of his fallen tribes members where near indestructible. In a ritual I have not been given the Sight to see, Cile ripped out his own heart and turned himself into a lich. He became the first lich to ever walk the lands of Mytharen. The Creators, Maebon and Delm, immediately sensed something unnatural with their creation. They summoned their sisters and The Siblings went to investigate in person... As soon as they appeared Cile attacked them, his power grown far stronger than anything a mortal had ever had. Maebon and The Twins fought back, but Delm stood to the side and observed, already aware of the outcome. Natiga, the daughter or Maebon and Rossa, also sensed something unnatural and went to investigate. Seeing her parents under attack, Natiga shape shifted into a bird and attacked the abomination before her. With barely any thought or effort Cile lashed out her with his body and his power, killing her frail form. The Siblings were shocked by the death and this creature that could not only stand up to their power, but was capable of killing a god, all be it a young one. Cile used their confusion to his advantage. With their guard temporarily down, he struck at them with his power and stole a piece of each one’s godhood, the force and the shock knocking them out.
And thus, Cile ascended to become the god of death.

When Maebon awoke he saw Delm standing near by, watching him impassively. The forest around them where they fought Cile was now gone, the ground scorched black for a hundred feet in any direction. At the edges of the burn trees still stood but were horribly burned. A little ways further the forest continued once again.
“You already know the cause and the result.” Delm answered before Maebon could ask him the question, and then added, “She is alive, and has helped another rise while you were unconscious.”
“I must put a stop to this.” Maebon responded firmly. “I will assemble all of us, including these new ones outside of the family. There will be a new order of things and all are to know of it.”
“Of course my brother,” Delm inclined his head as though he expected this, “but heed this warning: When you are moments from achieving victory, surrender or you will fai-”

***

The sound of the door opening jerked Jenna out of the story. She looked and saw an older priest standing in the doorway with a pen and parchment. The priest quickly walked over to a table and sat down.
“Shall we get started?” he asked her.
“Started on what?”
“I need you to tell me what happened for our historical records.”
“I… I don’t walk to talk about it…” Jenna muttered and turned away.
“Pardon?”
“I don’t want to talk about it! …Just take me home.”
“Well I’m sorry, but if one of our members gets involved in something we have to record it, it’s policy you see.”
“I don’t care.” Said quietly looking at the floor.
“Please miss,” the priest sighed, “let’s just get this over with, you were rescued by us, and all we ask is you answer some questions. Then we-”
“Fuck you!” Jenna turned and snapped at the priest, “I didn’t fucking ask you to do anything, so don’t act like I owe you something. You can just get the hell out of here!”
The priest glared at her for a moment, “Are you saying you didn’t WANT to be rescued?”
“No,” Jenna muttered, here eyes downcast, “I’m not saying that…”
“So your thankful that we did rescue you?”
“Yes…” Jenna replied, chagrined.
“Good, now if you could just answer some questions…”
“No.” Jenna muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“NO!” Jenna yelled at him, then let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Look, there’s no, please…” The priest tried to calm her, slowly walking towards her as she continued to scream while backing towards the wall. “If you’d just, miss, stop, I’m trying, just….”
“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!”
The door opened, Jenna stopped screaming and huddled in a ball shaking.
“What’s going on here?” She heard a male voice asking from the doorway.
“I-I’m sorry sir, she was refusing to answer our questions and then she just start-”
“Leave us.” The new voice snapped at the priest, who quickly hurried from the room. Jenna heard footsteps coming towards her as she sobbed on the floor. The newcomer reached out to stroke her head and comfort her but she flinched away from his touch.
“It’s okay.” He said to her, gently touching her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. “I am the high priest of this temple. I have communed with my god and I already know what happened, you don’t have to answer any questions.”
“Th-thank you…”
“The Lord Delm sent Jaxol to save you, it was our lord’s desire that you be protected. He asked me to give you a message, and all he asks is that you remember it. Would you like to hear it?”
“Okay…” Jenna sniffled.
“The flight of the worm will lead you to the one you are to aid.”