image [https://i.imgur.com/fbfIPnE.png]

Several Lion Head Priests descended on me immediately and I was carried screaming from the council chamber. I already knew what came next. I was carried between two hulking catmen through dusk shadowed streets as the call to lunar prayer peeled over rooftops and the gusting desert wind that accompanied each nightfall wind howled through long slanted alleys. Eyes turned to follow us, and more than a few passing civilian fanatics smelled blood and rushed after us to form an impromptu mob. A few I could hear trying to interrogate the rearmost priests in Ta’agra, but the majority fell into an easy chorus of jeers at the unlucky heretic — yours truly.

Through the temple doors we went, and past dozens of partitioned sub-chapels to the various permutations of their pantheon where living figures lay prostrate to idols, before finally my captors shoved me towards the central spiral staircase and allowing the howling mob to press past them. I ran, chased up the temple minaret staircase as rattan sticks swung and clacked against stone steps just behind me. When I was not fast enough the rattans bit my calves with the force of an alligator’s jaw and left immediate welts. More than once they nailed my heel or ankles and sent me hurtling forward, face and elbow first into sand grimed stone until I could wrestle myself back to my feet.

Breathlessly I reached the minaret's lantern style top chamber with them just behind me. Gasping for air, I ran across the small platform to the sheer edge, seeing only a dizzying fall onto the temple roof or courtyard, with an ocean of crowded neighborhoods beyond — certain death.

They came upon me again, a single-minded creature with a hundred hands. My jailors would later mock me, saying that I screamed with such terror that passersby below thought a woman was being executed. It may have been mere cruelty on their part, but I wouldn’t dispute the allegation.

Soon my hands were lashed by means of a corpse snake knotted about a bronze ring hung from the minaret ceiling. Its thin body like an endlessly coiling great iron nail, cold as it constricted eagerly around both of my wrists. The tail curled, wagging on the end where it hung free of me, as the head lazed over my other arm with a miniscule black marble eye aimed at me.

There was some more shouting, shoving, and yowling from the crowd before the priests were able to restore enough order to read my crimes back to me — malefaction, heresy, treason — all the things I suppose you hear from a witch-hunter before they light the pyre. But they were still more interested in information, and the head priests soon arrived and dismissed the crowd of onlookers before they began to question me. I told them my tale much as I have told it to you, save for several intermissions when they had an apprentice priest work my chest and back over with a rattan stick to ensure my honesty. The apprentice applied himself rigorously and kept to his mark generally, but grew tired and missed once so that he struck me full force across the ear so hard I could feel it split and a trickle of blood down my jawline.

Finally I heard steps approaching up the stairwell behind me. The priests froze, and then saluted as Rokash stepped forward and dismissed them.

His lips curled back to reveal his fangs at the sight of me. "Disgusting. Even for a charlatan this one has proven more cretinous than even Rokash suspected."

“I’m trying to help—”

"No, no, Fate Weaver. The time for honeyed lies is over. Peace is a memory and war has arrived, our sacred crusade to reclaim Elsweyr from your corruptions, foreign and spiritual. It is fitting that Rokash will have the Fate Weaver's head mounted over the burning gate tomorrow, so that the allied tribes and houses can march under it on their way to the field. His body will be fodder for his brother's ridiculous bird cage, a useful reminder to the Fate Binder of his place I think. And Berry's horse will not be forgotten, it will be butchered and fed to the most wretched of paupers for soup. No, no, do not beg, for Rokash comes tonight only to say goodbye.”

And with a punch to my gut he did just that, and left me on my knees hanging from my corpse snake entwined wrists. A pair of Lion Head Priest sentries saluted as he passed behind me and down the stairwell. For a moment it was all I could do to breathe and I savored the release of the relative solitude after an intense interrogation. I hung for a few moments undisturbed until the serpent tightened its grip on my wrists and writhed itself tighter around the ring above to draw me back back up to my feet.

Its dead eyes hovered before me. It eased open its mouth to release a rancid gasp of air. Instead of a tongue a wagging centipede wriggled forth, pointed legs clawing at my face as it leaned outward from the serpent's toothless maw.

I drew back as far as I could, screaming as the tongue withdrew and the creature began making a hacking sound, the vibration of it reverberating through my wrists and shaking my body. It vomited out a dozen pale thumb-length invertebrates who by moonlight I struggled to stomp with my free feet, but not fast enough as several scrambled up. Milkwhite things with crab claws and countless translucent legs that tickled up my legs.

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I managed to kick one off, sending it flying over the ledge. In response the corpse snake gave a few low grunts.

"Hnch… hnch… hnch…"

And the invertebrates returned back to their symbiote like dogs called to heel, skittering over my chest and twitching face, and then down its metallic body and into the waiting mouth. The lidless eye remained on me, patient and unperturbed, but withdrew back to its resting position by my side.

Sleep would not trouble me that night.

I hung in misery for some time, rocked gently by cold gusts of desert wind. I talked to myself out of sincere panic and also to remind the patient snake I still lived. The sentries ignored me, and after some time began to growl to one another in their native tongue.

Some time later they both hushed as slippered footsteps hissed up the stairwell. A short exchange behind me before they were dismissed and my deviator brother stepped between me and the dark city skyline.

"What in the hells were you thinking, Berry?"

I could only shake my head. "It was all I could do, I had to try at least."

"You could have killed us all. His Holiness is tearing the palace to pieces in his search for spies, and even I'm a suspect thanks to you."

"I'm sorry."

"I think I've persuaded them of my loyalty well enough for now, but what did you tell them about Benezia?"

"Wait, you know about Benezia? She revealed herself to you?"

"I told you I was in love. True she had not yet revealed her true form to me at that time, her stormy beauty. I would have told you but she swore me to secrecy."

I had to laugh, and it brought on a constricting pain to my bruised ribs so that I had to gasp. She had played us both so thoroughly.

"She's safe," I answered honestly, "I left out any mention of travel companions. They think my only handler is Caius Cosades back at the capital."

"Good… I can keep her safe then, reintroduce her under a new identity when the time is right."

I considered telling him about the poison plot as surely he had no idea, merely to spoil their little romance, but I hesitated when I realized a part of me hoped she might succeed yet in stopping the war if need be. Instead I just shrugged as best I could with my arms already up in the serpent's grasp. "I'm glad the two of you have it all figured out."

He said nothing for a moment, just ran his hands one over the other. "There will be a trial in the morning. Full court."

"Good, I can defend myself—"

"His Holiness ordered that you be tried in absentia."

Beside me a fly crawled from the corpse snake's ear hole and skittered in a circle over scales before taking flight. Its little eye had never left me.

"What can you do?" I asked.

"For you? Nothing at this point. You have to bear the consequences of your little outburst."

"And nothing for you? By Jode, it was you that split them — and made me for that matter. I just told him the truth and it's going to cost me my neck."

He scowled. "Owning your mistakes sometimes means taking them to the grave with you."

"Why does it have to be like this? Does everything we learn have to be useless performance? Can’t we just talk about something real?"

"And have you been profited from all our knowledge? For goodness sake man, you're half dead and slung up on a snake for carrion. Somebody has to make these hard decisions, Berry, and it may as well be us — and that means compromises. The world doesn't give a damn what we actually know, only that we have the answers they want. When I look at you I see how I used to be, running from responsibility, pointless honesty, self gratifying even."

"When I look at you I see the man who killed my brother."

It was cruel of me. His hands froze their self soothing massage. "You were there. Of all people, you know me better."

"Do I? What's changed?"

He swallowed. Part of me thought me might strike me, but he instead withdrew as if struck himself before striding wide around me. Footsteps fell into silence.

I wept openly, the wind driving cold into the damp tracts on my face. I was alone, truly alone, for the first time since I had come to the city. I hung limp until I hear a soft voice behind.

"Berree?"

Aiera stepped silently before me. I realized my deviator must have brought her to see me while the guards were away.

It took a few minutes before she could stop crying at the sight of me and we embraced. The snake entwined around me watched impassively.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Is it true, the things they say the Berree said?"

"Every word of it."

She watched me solemnly, eyes made black by darkness. I could taste the hurt in her.

I continued: "I'm sorry I didn't let you know me as well as you deserved, but your ignorance can be your shield. You need to condemn me tomorrow —"

"Not for all the sugar in Torval."

"--- or else you might be suspect for the rest of your life. Everything we did to protect your people could be lost. This may be my last night, and realistically you need to look out for yourself."

"Aiera has more than herself now."

I shook my head, confused until she laid a hand over her stomach.

"Mine?"

"Who else?! Twins. It is our way. Aiera knew within moments of conception."

It is impossible to articulate the flood of emotions, terror, joy, tenderness, so strong that I tried rushing to embrace her but was caught by the iron grip of the serpent which threw me back down.

On my tongue were promises to protect her, to love and cherish our litter beyond what any other father would. That they would want for nothing — least of all their father's attention. All these words came to me at once, and choked in my throat as I hung bound, bloodied, and humiliated. If ever I could offer such things I had squandered the opportunity now.

Instead I could only mutter: "Does anyone else know?" She nodded. "Keep it that way. For their sake you will need to speak out against me tomorrow, and withdraw to one of your cult’s sacred places, perhaps Azura’s realm itself if she will allow it."

She wiped away her tears. "Aiera knew from the moment she saw the Berree that he would save us and suffer for it. His aura has never been more beautiful, more uniquely Berre. The children will know, whether Berree lives or dies, what kind man he is."

In our final moment together before the guards returned, we agreed on how beautiful our children would be.