It became clear to Theo that there were multiple sides to Etol. There was the pious side; the churches and priests, all doing their best to praise the city as if it was the only bastion against heathens. There was the rich, tourist-friendly side; promoting it as a land of culture and class, filled with the right kind of people.
And then there was the true side; the slums, the neglected, the pickpockets running through the crowds with eyes casual yet observant, the usual citizens eking out a humble life and keeping their heads down.
In a lot of ways it was like what Theo had grown up with, and yet somehow worse. The fact the priests didn’t show even a token effort to give to the hungry, the way the rich flaunted their wealth as a sign of godly favour, it all laid clear not only their faults, but illuminated Union City’s as well.
Just because it compared favourably to Etol did not do much besides damning it with faint praise. Theo was starting to think that Annie was onto something (or multiple somethings).
They were shuttled off to their seventh and final temple of the day.
Theo felt his body tense up, and it wasn’t just from the exhaustion of being hyperaware for an entire day. There was something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Benedict felt almost reluctant to take them here, instead deigning to meander about, pointing out every small interesting detail possible. This only made Theo even more wary of what awaited.
“That’s the fifth largest fountain in Etol! And now that I’ve shown you the five largest fountains, the best place to get food, and all the statues of the Gods that aren’t in the temples, we come to the final stop in our tour today. It’s been a lovely time folks, and I hope you’ve enjoyed and been enlightened. Now, I present to you, the Temple of Fet!”
The building wasn’t too different to the other temples they had seen. It was still made of luxurious material, all shining silver and gold and polished marble. There were accents of white and yellow stone to go with it.
Theo’s eyes widened, and he schooled his face, willing himself not to deposit half-digested pizza onto the detailed floor.
It wasn’t stone.
The material was too…textured and porous for that. And it yellowed in a way that stone and metal did not.
If those weren’t enough of a clue, then the skull on the pulpit made it abundantly clear that this was a church lovingly adorned by bone. And, again looking at the skull, it wasn’t animal bone either.
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“I will bid you farewell here, and leave you in the capable hands of the priests of Fet.” Benedict left as soon as physically possible as a priest watched, unimpressed.
The first thing that struck Theo was her gait. She walked with impeccable precision, each step perfectly in time with the last. The next were her eyes, piercing, cold, and the sound of a gavel giving a guilty verdict. “Welcome all, to the Temple of Fet. I am Love in Judgement, and I will be your guide today.” She looked over the crowd, sizing up each and every one of them.
Everyone wilted or shied away from her gaze, and it wasn’t a difficult act for him to behave similarly. It was as if she had judged them all in an instant, and found them wanting.
“You are all blessed today, for we have something special for you to see. We have captured a heathen, infiltrating our holy city to destroy us from the inside.”
Trying to pretend that he was intrigued was difficult, and not acting like the blood in his veins had transmuted to sweat was even worse. His heart was dislodged from its perch in his chest, working its way down his stomach. Everyone else was excited, so he willed himself to not stand out with his reaction, at least.
She started walking, and beckoned them all to follow, footsteps measured and exact. “Some who are familiar with Fet may ask how the God of Death and Kindness handles punishment. Many would assume leniency, or mercy. We disagree. To be taught a lesson is a kindness for the future. The more painful, the more they will remember it. And if they die, then that will truly be a kindness.”
This time, Theo was not the only one starting to pale. He prayed to Gilth that Sparrow wasn’t tortured half to dead.
Love in Judgement stopped dead in her tracks, the nearest tourists doing what they could to not run into her, turning around and tracking the mote of mana that left Theo on its way to the heavens. She smiled, in a way that (Theo assumed) was meant to be reassuring, but in practice, resembled fishhooks pulling at the corners of her mouth.
It was wide. It was the smile of a predator, baring teeth not as a threat but a show of dominance. It didn’t reach her eyes. Those were as piercing as they had been this whole time.
She led them out of the temple, and into a courtyard, visible to all. People walked past, going about their days. Some glanced over, and moved faster. Others didn’t even look. But besides a few priests standing guard, nobody was interested in watching someone suffer.
In the centre, shackled and trapped in a glowing green sphere, was the confirmation both of Theo’s fears, and his objective. “Behold, a spy from Union City, here to pervert our way of life!”
Sparrow hung there, hands suspended by chains, head low, previously immaculate hair now dangling limply. They were still wearing their suit, or at least, what was once red suit, now ripped and dirtied and barely more than a set of rags. Their deep burgundy colour only served to obscure any blood that may have been spilled, and any scabs that may have formed.
Their head tilted up a fraction, sending shackles and chains clanking against each other, eyes scanning through the crowd. Their mouth was gagged, a wad of wet cloth stuffed between their teeth.
To Theo’s relief, they were still as sharp as ever, and though their eyes widened slightly, no extra time was spent looking at him. He hoped that was because they didn’t want to give him away, and not because they didn’t recognise him at all.
Their head resumed its position, and they became a lifeless marionette once more.