This is Sphereus, a world of magic and secrets, a rock drifting among others in the endless void. It is a rock watched carefully over by powers far far away. It is a rock dwelled upon by mortals. Mortals that squabble amongst themselves for wealth, for power, or for piety and demonstration of faith to their god or find company in each other. It is home to mortals such as Zelotes.

The scolding heat, and the crackling of flame chased Zelotes down the hallway as he did his best to outrun the fire, but it soon rose up in front of him, as it did behind him. And then he heard the groaning of the planks above. He looked up and saw the support of the ceiling above him give and collapse as a beam of flames.

All he knew was fear in that moment as he heard screams before he rose from his bed, gasping with his heart pounding against his chest for escape.

He sighed. “It’s over.” he thought to himself as he got out of bed. Yet as he blinked, the cracked brick walls of his dormitory were replaced by sheets of blazing orange. He couldn’t dwell on that right now, however. To ease himself he opened the window beside his bed, and took in the scents and warm breeze that went through his lengthy mane.

He was a leothien, a humanoid lion species, and stood with a battle-built physique as a warrior such as himself should. And as a man of his kind, he boasted a great mane.

Another thing he'd have to worry about. He had to make himself presentable. He checked himself in the mirror that he kept at his bedside, and began brushing his mane, taming the wild bedhead that he awoke with into flowing curls. Of course, he couldn’t avoid the sight of the left side of his face where a burn forked around his eye, reminding him of that night. That one terrible night. He shook himself out of that moment and swept a curtain of hair over that side of his leonine face and robed himself before joining the other priests in the monastery’s church.

As he went down to join the other monks before sunrise, Zelotes thought about how he was going to keep his mane clean during his task at the stables today, but there was more than that. His mind soon dwelled on his decreasing opportunities to attempt to prove himself as a paladin during trials, and the last four, he had failed, and his master could now only offer one more chance to prove himself. He could not afford to fail again, lest he be stuck as a mere temple guard or worse, be stuck shoveling manure for a living.

As he joined the priesthood, the morning sun rose over the Bronze Highlands in the Adonis Imperium. He and other priests were gathered within the local Sunfather’s church at the edge of the village of Viro, witnessing the morning light bathe the rugged land in warm light and paint the sky in bands of blue, pink and gold. As the light entered the clerestory, Zelotes and the other priests knelt towards the sun, holding rosaries of the Sunfather’s holy symbol before them: a sun encircled by a wreath. They began to pray.

“Sunfather, glory to your name

I thank you for your sacred light

The courage I am given by your flame

And your power as your knight

To burn away shadows and your game

For my troubles ahead

Be my strength

For I shall follow as you have said.

And from your light I shall not stray

For your flame keeps the darkness at bay.”

This was the prayer of Zelotes as finished with a kiss to the symbol. He then rose to his feet, putting it on again with a feeling of warmth and vigor entering his body. He had renewed his connection with the sun god. He took a moment to breathe, naturally taking in the scents of incense that permeated the monastery church. He breathed as he was comforted by the warm light that fell upon his face.

But it was minor to his worries that ran through his mind for the last month. Ten years of training, when most would’ve become knights after only five. And he was tormented by the prospect of excrement landing in his mane for the rest of his life if he fails for the last time. In fact it prompted him to check his mane again in the palm sized mirror he kept pocketed in his robe. His sister's gift before he began training. He sighed as he looked into it. It had been a month since he had seen her or his youngest siblings, but the scents of stewed meat from the night before trailed into his nose and distracted him. His stomach growled pleading to be fed after missing last night’s meal. Apparently leftovers were being served with breakfast. That was his call to the monastery’s dining hall.

Zelotes made his way and sat at the table in the dining room, being served a bowl of the meaty stew with eggs from the nearby hen-house cracked on top. As was custom, Zelotes casted a spell to bless the stew. Though he had become accustomed to the act as one does for writing, he still went through the process: praying “With your light, bless my meal.”, focused the divine mana within him, and believed the stew would be made pure as he held his rosary in his palm as over the stew, causing it glow and return his meal to the freshness it held when it would’ve been served last night by enhancing its savory scent.

Feeling near starved, he simply took the bowl and began pouring the stew into his toothy maw, neglecting his manors and savoring the hearty flavors of beef. A reward for his efforts last night.

“Hungry, Zelotes?” Another leothien, his mentor, sat next to him. He smiled with a metallic glint coming off his steel teeth, and had a darkening mane, a sign of age among leothiens, yet he maintained battle-ready musculature like his apprentice. He was served a bowl as well.

“Believe it or not, they still need me at the stables, master, and we still had only half of the place cleaned.” Zelotes answered.

“I see! Well then, do you know what your first task of the day is then?” Zelotes’ mentor, the paladin centurion, Razael, smirked as he handled a fork of the breakfast stew into his maw.

Zelotes sighed. “Well I already made a promise to the stablemaster.”

“Good then!” Razael patted his apprentice on the back. “Anyone who is worthy of the paladin’s oath recognizes the value of even a simple promise, even if it is a mammoth undertaking!” He chuckled.

“Wait, the mammoth isn’t coming today, is it?” Zelotes dreaded the thought of working with those behemoths.

“Two of them in fact! The pridelord did make that request from Traelend. After that though, I do have something else for you.”

Zelotes cocked his head to the side, as he wondered what else his master had in store for him today.

“I think you’ll like it! We’re going on an evening patrol!”

Zelotes perked up, he hadn’t been outside of the monastery in a couple of weeks. “Really?”

Razael nodded. “Yes, but until then, don’t invest too much in your looks!”

“And you know what? That apprentice of yours would’ve started walking the path of the Sunfather years ago if he didn’t invest in his looks!” Another centurion interjected. “Maybe if you made him focus more on training he would be, or have you traded your bottle for something else?.”

“Are you insulting my master, centurion Numius?” Zelotes stood up.

“Zelotes, please don’t.” Razael shook his head.

“Of course I am! And he has every right to be insulted! Case in point: who else keeps an apprentice after failing four times in a row? Just for your incompetence, neither of you are worthy of any honor!” Numius took a bite from his meal.

Zelotes could handle an insult directed to him, but not his mentor’s honor. That he couldn’t just sit well with, and in fact, it prompted him to stand up. He marched up to the rival centurion’s table despite the pleas of Razael. Whatever he said, Zelotes didn’t care. “You wouldn’t dare sully his honor, would you?”

“I just did, pretty boy. And in case you’re wondering how everyone thinks you look, here’s what I think of it…” The centurion ruffled Zelotes’ mane, reducing his carefully combed hair to a mess.

For Zelotes, this was the final straw. “Forget breakfast! I challenge you to combat!”

The rest of the room was silent. A mere apprentice challenging not just a knight, but a centurion was unheard of.

“Hah! Like I'd lower myself to fight with someone else’s failure!” Numius scoffed. “You can engage my apprentice if you wish, though.”

“Fine.” Zelotes answered, his voice now shaking.

The group gathered in the cloister, or the training field, given that the monastery housed holy warriors among its priesthood. He met with the rival centurion’s apprentice, face to face, centered in the cloister as knights and priests gathered around to observe. A priest approached both of them, handing them each a wooden sparring sword. Zelotes handled the make-shift weapon, feeling its lightness. He preferred heavier weaponry, but he could still work with this.

“I believe both of you should know the rules of engagement here: no dirty tricks, no lethality, no spells and do not strike when your opponent surrenders.” The priest said before retreating back into the audience.

The two apprentices each took five paces away from each other before beginning combat. Zelotes leaped at his opponent, his right arm ready to deliver a hard blow, only to be struck in the face by his opponent before he could land.

He took a step back, holding his jaw as he savored the rush of adrenaline from the pain, he was off guard again. His opponent struck him one, two, then three times in the chest, before shoving him back five paces with a butting of the pommel to his stomach.

Zelotes panted as the last blow nearly knocked the wind out of him. He hurt, but he chuckled, almost enjoying the pain as he felt a surge of energy run through his veins that contorted his face into a leonine grin that showed his fangs.

He charged up to his opponent, this time successfully landing a strike once, before following it up only for it to be held off by the apprentice’s wooden blade holding Zelotes’ in place. Zelotes put his other hand on the blade in an attempt to half-sword, adding more force to contest the block of his opponent. With an added push, Zelotes was able to break his opponent’s guard, and landed once then twice hard on his opponent. Emboldened by the turning tide, Zelotes held the weapon over his shoulder and swung it down on his opponent, knocking him flat on the ground before Zelotes pointed his wooden blade down at him.

“I yield! I yield!” The rival apprentice cried out in defeat on the ground.

Adrenaline still rushed through Zelotes’ veins, as the enjoyment of the fight was still reflected in the wildness of his eyes and the glee in his smile. It took a moment before the rush wore off, and Zelotes lended a hand down to his defeated opponent, helping him to his feet.

“Now how was that?” Zelotes turned to his opponent’s mentor.

Numius did not reply as his apprentice returned to him. He only kept his eyes on Zelotes as he went back into the dining hall

“Zelotes!” Razael approached him. “Please do not defend me like that again!”

“Insulting my own honor is one thing, but I cannot simply let someone sully yours as well.” Zelotes replied. “There is no honor in letting my mentor’s name be dragged through mud because of me.”

With combat now finished, Zelotes made his way to the stables just outside the monastery. Despite the filthy tedium he knew that stable work posed to him, Zelotes had made a promise to the stablemaster that he would help with clearing and caring for the mammoths that morning.

“Zelotes! Glad you could make it!” The stablemaster greeted him as he made it out of the monastery. ”You look beat up…”

“When are the mammoths going to be here?” Zelotes asked.

“They got here early!” the stable master gestured to the moving walls of hair that just now entered the stables.

Zelotes sighed. “I made a promise.” He then entered the stables and got started for the day.

Zelotes did his tasks for the stables, starting of course with the difficult task of handling the recently arrived mammoths. An unusual sight in a place such as the highlands of the Adonis Imperium’s savannahs, and the reason he was asked to stay late yesterday. Though they seemed to treat their human masters fairly, given his species, dealing with the northern behemoths was a precarious task, especially given the amount of excrement that Zelotes had to shovel.

“You know, Zelotes, you didn’t have to come here after all you did yesterday, the boss made that clear.” One of his fellow stablehands interjected as they shoveled droppings.

Zelotes thought upon that for a moment, he was right. He didn’t have to deal with the foul mix of mammoth and horse droppings of all things today, especially when he could be with his master on patrol and be rid of the mundanity. However, he still gave his word he would be here. “A word is a promise, Claudius. One should always do as they say they will do.”

“Here you go on your ideals again....” Claudius groaned. “Can’t you be a bit more realistic? Say maybe just once cut yourself or maybe someone some slack?”

“Except it’s been more than once.” Zelotes grumbled as he thought back to how his co-worker had left him on his own even after proposing his assistance the day before, and that he was left to clean out and open two stalls and half of the stables for the incoming mammoths.

The rest of the day consisted of brushing and feeding the horses at the stables until just past noon where he finished his remaining tasks. By that time, near sunset, he awaited his meeting with Razael. Of course, he made sure he freshened himself up, combing his mane out once again.

Just as he was leaving, Zelotes saw a curious dagger in the corner of the barn that stood out from the hay. Zelotes went to investigate the dagger, picking it up. It held a ruby in its hilt, with a handle shaped like a serpent, and a flamberge blade. “This is well made…” Zelotes said as he wondered if it was from the recently arrived humans.

“Indeed it is.” An unfamiliar, yet smooth voice rolled into Zelotes’ ear.

Spooked, Zelotes turned around, finding he was no longer in the camp. Instead he was in a lavish, dark hallway with a red carpet leading to a pair of mahogany doors in front of him. The dagger had vanished from his hand.

“Where am I?” Zelotes asked without response. Zelotes used his paladin senses. The place reeked with demonic energies, yet it seemed that there was only one way forward. Approaching the large doors, Zelotes first knocked.

“Enter, please.” The same voice invited him.

Zelotes opened the doors, revealing an office that was warmly lit, with windows on one side that peared out into a dark, misty abyss, and an empty fireplace to the other side. A large mahogany desk in front of Zelotes, placed in front of a large book-shelf, seated at it as he turned in his chair was a horned human looking individual with a curled mustache and a monocle, dressed in an orange overcoat and wine-red vestments underneath. He smiled as he looked up from his book at Zelotes. He instantly knew this was a demon.

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“Zelotes! Glad you could join me!” the opulent fiend exclaimed as he closed the book and placed it upon his desk.

“I am not here to make a deal…” Zelotes growled. “Where am I and who are you?”

“Neither of those are important, but you can call me Lial, have a seat!”

Zelotes simply stomped a foot down, refusing the demon’s order.

The demon however, snapped his fingers, prompting the doors behind Zelotes to close, making an audible “Thud!”

“Your choice, but I just wanted to talk business with you while you’re here…” He pulled out and opened a box. “Say, would you like a cigar?” He pulled one out.

“I don’t indulge in that type of vice.” Zelotes refused.

“Very well…” The demon snapped his fingers, summoning a flame that lit his cigar, and exhaled a cloud of smoke, prompting Zelotes to fan it away. “Say, you’re a strong, and capable warrior, aren’t you?”

Zelotes refused to answer.

The demon thought for a moment, taking another puff off his cigar. “Listen, I’ll check with you again later, but you do want retribution, right?”

Zelotes’ eyes lit up for a moment, at the mention of the word. Images flashed through his head: a home, flames, and screams.

“You may have chosen a path of selflessness, but behind all that, you harbor more scars than what’s on your face, right Zelotes?” With those last words images of a home in flames and sounds of screams flashed through his mind as he felt the burn on the left of his face once more.

“Ah! Zelotes!” Razael said, awakening Zelotes as he put a hand on Zelotes’ shoulder, fully armored in celestial-scripted, yellow plate armor. “Looking good as usual, I see! Too bad there isn’t much you can do about the scent.”

“I-I know.” Zelotes replied, looking at his mentor’s armor. He couldn’t help but be envious. He then looked back at the dagger in his hand, finding only a mundane knife instead. He pocketed it for the time being.

“There’s only one thing I can think of that’s missing.” Razael paused to let his student answer.

“My armor.” Zelotes said, as he focussed back on the moment.

Razael nodded. “Well, get to the armory then!”

“Yes, master!” Zelotes went to the monastery armory retrieve his equipment. He donned his armor, and grabbed his weapon, a greatsword: a six-foot blade of steel that sang as it left the scabbard. His family would’ve used guns, but paladin armor was stronger than any bullet, and he could channel the Sunfather’s energy into his sword better than any gun.

He paused for a moment as he saw himself in the mirror. He was only an apprentice, but it had been so long that he now resented seeing himself in colorless steel, rather than the glorious sunny yellow of the Sunfather. Regardless, he still had yet to successfully prove himself, and thus went back into the training field to meet with his mentor.

Zelotes knelt before his mentor, but instead of a smile, the centurion frowned as he saw the tired sag in Zelotes’ face. “Any troubles, Zealotes?”

“None, master.” Zelotes replied, fixing his facial expression into a more stern position.

Razael sighed with a shake of his head. “You’re a terrible liar, Zelotes.”

“I just wish I was in yellow by now.” Zelotes admitted.

“I see.” Razael nodded.

“More than that though. I've trained for ten years with you, and I still can’t pass trials…” Zelotes sighed as he felt his frustration welling inside of him. “I’m sorry, just forget whatever I said.”

Razael put a hand on Zelotes’ shoulder. “Look here, my boy. Even if there’s never another opportunity for a trial, I’m sure the Sunfather will give you a chance at paladinhood if no one else does.”

“But will I ever be truly worthy?” Zelotes questioned. “Even after…” He paused as the memory of flames briefly burned through his mind, and he clenched his scar.

Razael just looked at his apprentice. “You are, Zelotes. Anyone who says anything else is either a stranger or a gods-damned liar. Now, get a horse!”

With that, the two paladin’s put on their helms with Razael’s being marked with a forward-facing crest resembling a rising sun as a symbol of his centurion status. They each mounted a horse.

“Numius and his troops should be back soon-” The sound of doors being blasted open interrupted Razael.

The two dismounted and ran into the church to investigate. When they entered, a leothien woman, bearing features quite similar to Zelotes’ own, was cornered at the altar. Zelotes instantly recognized her, she was his sister.

“Riole!” Zelotes yelled as he ran to her side, unsheathing his greatsword.

“No, Zelotes! Don’t!” She pleaded as he entered the nave.

Just before Zelotes could get within range of his sister, chains of inky blackness wrapped around and restrained his sword arm as what looked like a black void shaped like a rosary appeared in the palm of the individual in front of his sister.

He then looked at the intruders that drove Riole here: Three humanoid individuals dressed in black and white armor under dark capes and broad-brimmed hats, each with a featureless, porcelain mask. The rosaries they held were not like any he had seen: A solid black circle within a ring under a white crown.

“This one advises you to cease, sunchild.” The lead said, before turning back to Riole. “You have knowledge of the Labyrinth Code, is that correct?” He raised a gun, clicking as the barrel rotated.

Although the temple guards had tried to repel the trio, the other two inquisitors had them on their knees.

With that last statement, Zelotes froze and his eyes went wide. He had seen them before. His mind trailed back to a time before his mane, and before the scar on his face. It was in a moment of his childhood, in the home of his childhood. There was a knocking on the door, firm and precise in timing between knocks. A leothien man with a mane red like Zelotes’ own, answered the door. It was his father. “Who would be here this time of day?”

He opened the door, meeting the triad of individuals with expressionless masks. The head of the triad drew something in the air, creating a black rune, summoning a circle of black flame around them and Zelotes’ father. When he saw it then, Zelotes was perplexed, he had seen magic and runes before, in different colors, yet never black.

“What do you want?” The leothien man asked angrily as the three had simply walked in uninvited.

“Truth.” The leader replied. “The map of the Labyrinth Code. Where is it?”

His mind returned to the present. “Release her!” Zelotes angrily demanded. No response came from the inquisitors.

“Desecrators!” Razael jumped into the frey, swinging his mace against the lead inquisitor, causing him to dispel the chains on impact. “You dare not only to threaten a maiden here, but to also bring another power’s magic into this holy house?”

Stepping back from the mace’s impact, the lead inquisitor turned to his lackeys. “To the horses, now!” Prompting them to leave. Knowing better than to test mere bullets against paladin armor, he pulled out a sword and was met with the blade of a now freed Zelotes.

“I’ve waited years for this!” Zelotes said as he viciously swung at the inquisitor.

Outmatched, the lead, quickly prayed. “Firstborn, I call your fire.” evoking a blast of black flames from his holy symbol that sent Zelotes back several paces. Ironically, the blast felt numbingly cold instead of hot. The inquisitor then fled the church and joined his lackeys.

Though hurt by the blast, Zelotes quickly turned to his sister. “Riole, are you alright?”

“I’m fine…” She panted. “Just a spooked is all,... little brother.” She teased.

Zelotes rolled his eyes at his twin’s remark. “I should’ve known you would be, little sister.”

“Riole, get to the infirmary, and stay there until we get back!” Razael ordered. “Zelotes, remain here.”

“No! I refuse to do so!” Zelotes protested.

“They are too dangerous for you, Zelotes!” Razael insisted.

“And you think you can take all three at once?” Zelotes hungered to face them again.

Razael sighed. “Fine, but if anything happens to you or me, retreat.”

With that, the two mounted and rode out into the countryside. With the moon rising over them, its light facing away as it showed its dark side over them. Zelotes could not help but feel a chill as though the new moon was trying to tell them something.

“I don’t like new moons.” Zelotes said as he looked up at the night sky. “Do you ever feel like it’s looking back at us?”

“Maybe. New moons always present an omen. But if you only look at the moon's dark side, you'll never see the light.” Razael answered.

Regardless, Zelotes felt uneasy and strangely enough, he couldn’t help but feel like he had experienced this exact same moment before, as though the new moon had just sent one of its omens.

Even with only star-light, being leothiens, Zelotes and his mentor retained night vision, something that helped them spot the inquisitors ahead.

“Over there!” Zelotes pointed out the inquisitors to his master as they gained on them.

“Good!” Razael said as they began to close in.

“What god do you think they follow?” Zelotes asked.

Razael shook his head. “No idea, but…” Razael paused. “I’m afraid I would be correct if I guessed.”

Zelotes could tell Razael was being serious. There was always some jovial tone in his voice, but here, he could tell there was something serious going on here. Worse, something that scared his mentor as heard a suppressed shakiness in how he spoke.

The two continued to close in on the inquisitors, and it soon became apparent to all that a fight was now imminent, and all parties dismounted as Razael ordered “You there! Stop!”

The latent anger Zelotes had from all those years ago finally ignited. Zelotes leaped out at them, his greatsword unsheathed and held over his head as he prepared to deal out a heavily landed blow on one of them. His strike was held off, however, as his target raised his own blade with both hands, holding off Zelotes’ blade, and shoved him back with a push.

Razael joined the fray, his mace charged up with divine energy, glowing yellow, as he swung left and right at his target, both blows releasing a burst of sunlight. “In the name of the Sunfather, you three are accused of disrupting the sanctity of his monastery!”

“For as great as he claims to be, you know nothing of our Forgotten Lord.” Another of the masked trio spoke and then prayed. “Firstborn, I call your penance.” He summoned another set of black chains that emerged and constricted around Razael. Another created a blast of more cold black flame at Zelotes, forcing him back seven paces from his target.

Zelotes would’ve expected to be scorched by flame, but instead he felt chilled by it. Either way, he was undeterred, he wanted vengeance.

Drawing the Sunfather’s holy energy into himself, Zelotes decided to cast one of the few spells he could as an apprentice. Focussing on the divine energy within, Zelotes uttered a quick prayer. “Sunfather, I call your blessing!” And then held faith that the power would be delivered. his holy symbol glowed in his palm and sent a rush of divine vigor into himself and his chained mentor.

Razael at first struggled against the chains before breaking free of them. He drummed his mace on his shield. “Sunfather, bless our weapons!” he casted another divine spell over him and Zelotes, causing both paladins’ weapons to blaze with yellow radiance as his mace began striking again.

Zelotes rushed his opponent, striking once, twice, thrice, his blade shredded and singed the black cloth as he swung, letting the blade’s weight pull him a step forward with each strike. Zelotes smiled as the tide of battle was finally turning.

Seeing the two paladins eat away at their efforts, the leader of the inquisitors prayed “In your night, may he follow your will.” he held his holy symbol as it blackness covered it, and aimed at Razael. His motions stopped as he stood in place and is eyes turned black with stark white pupils. “Attack.” The leader commanded. Razael looked at Zelotes, and walked up to him with a precise placement of his paces.

With a heavy strike of his greatsword, Zelotes rendered his opponent prone on the ground and savoring the moment as he stood victorious. Vengeance would finally be his. His moment of inattentiveness however, allowed the controlled Razael to strike upon Zelotes, knocking him back ten paces and on to his knees with a bash from his shield.

“What was tha-'' Zelotes stood up, his eyes widening as he saw his master under control. “Master?”

Razael quickly closed the gap between him and his apprentice, swinging for a blow with his mace that Zelotes just barely dodged as sparks flew between the end of the weapon and Zelotes’ helm.

Zelotes tried to snap his mentor out of the spell, first, without trying to hurt him, striking Razael in the head with the pommel of his weapon, but whether it was because of the helm, or the spell’s strength, it was no use. He then attempted to grapple him and force holy energies into him to break the spell. With that option failing to work, and being knocked to the ground, Zelotes knew he had to attack the caster.

Rolling out of the way of another mace strike, Zelotes immediately got to his feet, and rushed at the inquisitor leader. With a strike of his sword into his torso, the lead inquisitor’s command over Zelotes’ mentor was broken as his eyes returned to color. Zelotes smiled with glee, he wanted them to hurt.

The lead inquisitor prayed and summoned another burst of black flame as he clutched his side, sending Zelotes a few paces back as he failed to block the eruption of cold, dark fire. Pulling out a stone, the inquisitor summoned a portal, and motioned for the inquisitors to follow before jumping in.

“Oh no you don’t!” Zelotes shouted, enraged, catching one of the lackeys before they escaped. Zelotes held him up by the throat, pointing his blade at him.

Weakened and wounded from Zelotes’ previous blows, the inquisitor lackey did nothing to resist. As though accepting his fate as the portal closed.

After so many years, Zelotes was overjoyed. This was his chance to finally take revenge. To finally make up for his greatest failure. He was ready to skewer the inquisitor.

“Zelotes!” Razael shouted, prompting the apprentice to pause. “I know you have reservations, but you’re only an apprentice. The delivery of divine justice is not your right.”

“Why? Even after what they did!?” Zelotes protested.

“It’s not you’re place Zelotes-”

“After what they did to my family!?” In that moment, Zelotes cared nothing about divine justice, or avenging his monastery’s sanctity. At that moment, he only wanted the satisfaction of his past being avenged.

“I enjoyed the show, Zelotes, but even though I’m not at all for that preachy prattle, I wouldn’t do it now.” The Lial’s voice echoed in Zelotes’ mind.

“Zelotes…” Razael paused. “If you think yourself worthy of paladinhood, you will recognize yourself as not merely a warrior. Especially not one of your own personal vendetta.”

Zelotes’ grip on the masked individual loosened. Razael was right. Zelotes had not even thought about what they did most recently. Though he still thirsted for retribution.

Razael walked up to Zelotes, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t dishonor the Sunfather by killing for vengeance.”

“You’ll get your chance later, Zelotes, you’ll be worth nothing if you give in now.” Lial spoke in Zelotes’ mind again.

“But-”

“I know what they did then!” Razael interjected. “But what will you do now?”

Zelotes took a deep breath. He released the inquisitor, allowing him to fall on his knees, and sheathed his weapon. “I will know my place.”

The inquisitor stood back up, uttering words, and gathering dark energy into his rosary, preparing another blast at the two paladins before his skull exploded with the contact of Razael’s mace to his head, scattering skull fragments and brains.

Zelotes looked at his master in shock.

“I’m proud of you for coming to your senses, Zelotes. But they desecrated our monastery, which must be dealt with accordingly. That is my place to dispense.” Razael explained.

The two went back to their horses, and rode back home. After their horses made it back to the stables, they dismounted and removed their helms.

“We missed Father Cyril’s sermon tonight.” Zelotes noted.

“Indeed.” Razael agreed with Zelotes. “At least they’ll save us a meal, though!” he chuckled.

Zelotes was unamused.

“Listen, I’m proud of you, no matter what. And if you had killed him, you would’ve forfeited your last attempt at a trial!”

Zelotes looked at Razael perplexed. “Trial?”

“Yes of course!” Razael said, upliftingly. “You saved me!”

Zelotes eyes lit up. “So you’re telling me-”

“You have one more chance!” Razael spoke with glee. “Starting next week, there will be trials!”

Zelotes was delighted. He was soon to prove himself. He would not fail this time. He couldn’t allow himself to.

“Don’t forget to prepare though, my boy!”

“I will not fail this time, master Razael!” Zelotes swore to his mentor.

“Also…” Razael paused. “Don’t forget to comb out your mane!” He then proceeded to ruffle Zelotes.

Zelotes breathed in as he tried to calm down. “I will take that as encouragement…”