“I need a good drink,” Shannon muttered, rummaging around Manesc’s office. “I know you’ve got something here. If there was a time to pull it out it’s now,” He said. Manesc looked unamused with him. Of course, he did, he had no sense of humor. Exactly what they needed right now. A man with the disposition of an angry bullfrog.

“Needing a drink is what left you unprepared for this in the first place,” He said.

“Going to a bar didn’t leave us unprepared! I want you to tell me how the hell we could’ve prepared for any of this!” Ror snapped at him in response. He gritted his teeth in return. If he didn’t adhere so strictly to the hierarchy of the Hands, Shannon was sure he would’ve hit Ror for that.

“She’s right, Manesc,” Shannon said, finding a bottle of ceremonial wine tucked away and very unceremoniously uncorking it. “I still can’t believe everything I heard. I wish there was some way to confirm it. I have a hard time believing our Goddess, the Mother of Magick and NIGHT would want to present her avatar to the Sun God as an offering,” He said, taking a long swig from the bottle and passing it to the Right hand to indulge.

“They’ve always hated each other, why now, with her dying breath, would she have us submit to Cors,” Ror echoed his worries, taking her own drink from the bottle.

“How would you confirm what she said?” Manesc asked.

“That’s what bothers me the most,” Shannon said, crossing his arms. “We can’t. There’s nothing we can do but take her word.”

“You think she was lying?” Ror asked, passing the bottle back to him.

“She seemed genuinely distraught, and I could feel the magick in her myself. I’m just worried she might’ve misunderstood, that she was in no state to really understand what she was being told,” Shannon rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This is all happening so suddenly. If only we’d had time to plan better,” He muttered in exasperation.

“But we didn’t,” The Right hand said. “We have to put faith in Tillia. We are still the Tilliana Temple. We need to trust that she chose this girl for a reason and even if that reason is not apparent to us. We must still follow through with it.”

“I’ve never been a fan of blind trust,” Shannon retorted. It was outside of his nature. Ror was meant to be the passionate, emotional servant, and he was supposed to question her. That was how their balance had worked but, in the past when they came to a stalemate, there was always interpretations and omen’s that could be turned to. Now they had none.

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“Right now blind faith is all we have,” Ror said firmly.

Dammit, he hated when she was right.

“So, if we choose to put faith in what Noh’s daughter said, we have to decide what to do now. Who does Nethira become to the Temple? To the city? When do we present her?” Questions flooded out of Manesc. He may have been the third member of the inner circle but most of what he dealt with was the administrative duties from the city. When it came to important decisions regarding the Temple fell squarely between the Hands and there were nothing but important decisions to be made.

“She’s not our Goddess,” Ror said. A hint of pridefulness and fearsome loyalty bit at her words.

“She’s not, but she is what Tillia left us. She’s an avatar. I think it’s important that people see her like that. They’re going to need hope and reassurance,” Shannon argued. There was no greater authority now. For Tillia’s power to continue on they needed to support the vessel it was in. Nethira was not their goddess, but she was the child she left behind.

“Do we tell the people that she’s gone?” Manesc asked.

“Absolutely not!” Ror practically hollered in response. Shannon took another drink from the bottle to squash his irritation at her bad attitude. How could a woman of her outward beauty lack so much femininity? “If we tell them she’s gone the city would fall into chaos, and the other Temples would start looking to answers from their gods, and what happens when they get nothing. Not to mention, with Cors having chosen to walk amongst the citizen’s I'm sure if he wanted to let people know the gods were gone he would’ve done so already. If we do something he doesn’t like we risk ending his game early,” Ror said.

Shannon let out a click of disgusting, handing the bottle to Ror. “Game, what a disgusting term,” He muttered. “I would love for his followers to hear him use that word with respect to their lives. Unfortunately, I fear you’re correct, letting them know anything would cause too much harm,” He relented. “I think we should introduce Nethira first to the temple as what she is, an avatar. She needs pre-established legitimacy before we can present her to the Coriast Temple. So we call a gathering and tell everyone she is Tillia’s chosen child.”

“That wouldn’t be a lie,” Manesc said.

“But it wouldn’t be the whole truth either,” Ror answered. Shannon could hear the displeasure in her voice, but he was sure it wasn’t directly caused by Nethira. Something told him her anger was being displaced.

“How long before we give…” Manesc paused to frown at his own choice of words. It brought all three of them discomfort, the thought of handing over their goddess and a child to the Sun Temple. “Give her to the Temple?” He finished.

“We shouldn’t waste time. What if Cors grows bored? Surely Tillia’s absence won’t be a surprise to him. How long would he wait before he begins toying with us for fun?” Ror muttered, taking a long swig from the ceremonial wine.

“Not long. Not if he’s already decided to place himself amongst us,” Shannon said.

“We don’t have time to teach her much,” Manesc said with worry. Surely he didn’t like the idea of sending the girl in completely unarmed.

“We don’t have time to teach her anything,” Shannon said. We’re going to have to pray she’ll be allowed freedoms of some sort.”

“We should demand it!” Ror growled.

“We could, but who knows if we’ll be granted that. We’re not approaching the leaders of another Temple on equal footing. We’re going to be making requests of a God. A God who has never liked our Goddess or her servants.”

“That poor girl,” Manesc muttered, leaning back in his chair. He covered his mouth with his hand as if he could hide his emotions with just that. “She’s going to be facing the brunt of an eternity of hatred. I’m worried he’ll break that child in a matter of days. We must pray for her strength,” Manesc said.

A solemn, serious look crossed Shannon’s face as him. “Pray to whom?”