The Halls of the Coriast temple felt like they were getting smaller as the group was lead inside. Nethira felt her entire body was rattling as she walked, sure the sounds of her bracelets were distracting at this point. She wanted to look for reassurance, but she couldn’t make active eye contact with anyone.

Ror and Shannon walked in front of her and Manesc was too her back. She had to keep that confidence. It was the best way to survive now. Her confidence had already been successfully unsettling once, but the High Priest was just a test. She could feel it, something deep within her, an approaching dread as she knew she was getting closer to him. It was if her body was being physically repelled from this place, she could feel a pressure against her chest trying to push her away, but she walked forward.

They walked towards a room with an ornate set of doors. There were two, now rather confused, priests waiting outside them.

“Let us in,” The high priest said immediately. There was a moment of uncertainty between the young men at the door. It was almost palpable. After a moment of consideration the two of them finally parted, opening the doors.

In a moment of panic, Nethira glanced back at Manesc. He caught her eyes and gave her a small nod. The best either of them could do.

The room looked like the personal quarters of a king. Drapery coated the walls and plush benches sat here and there. The back of the room opened to a lush garden and a manicured pool. Though all of that paled in comparison to the man sitting on one of the benches. He was radiant, almost terrifyingly so. Nethira had to stop herself from dropping to the floor. Her knees became weak in his presence. She wasn’t the only one though. It took her only a moment to find that everyone around her, priests of both the Coriast and Tilliana temple had fallen to their knees in the entryway.

Her heart rate quicken, unsure of what to do in this moment. She was told to bow to no one, but did that include Him?

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Nethira looked down at Shannon and Ror, but she felt an invisible grip wrench her attention forward. She met the man’s gaze. Stunning eyes enraptured her. It looked like melted gold itself moved amongst them. She felt her pulse quicken as the urge to step away seized her every muscle. It felt like any moment her legs would give out beneath her and lower her down to the ground with the others. There was absolutely no way she could let that happen.

He took to his feet. The loose red and gold robes hardly clung to his body, showing more of a man then she had ever seen before. His movements were smooth, effortless and elegant, but there was some disgusting and horrid about them that she couldn't figure out.

He stopped before her, poised as a finely carved statue. Her every breath demanded that she kneel before him as well, but she refused. She pushed herself to stand straighter, to meet that gaze, as much as it burned to do so. This seemed to amuse him. She felt lucky.

“Tillia,” He said with a smirk, reaching out for her. He nearly stepped on the hand of his own priest to do so. “She is not Tillia, but she was sent by her, as an offering to you, Great God of the Sun,” The High Priest said.

He laughed. It was a laugh that gripped at her spine and sent a chill running through her very core. His fingers brushed against her chin and she had to fight to not pull away. “You’re all fools,” He said, smirking at her now. “You’re what’s left of her, aren’t you?” He asked.

Nethira’s mouth felt dry and she seemed to forget how to use the spoken language. She pressed herself to step forward, away from the others.

“I am…” Something deep in her gut told her not to lie. Not if he already knew. He was a god, surely he could feel her, the same way she could tell he was in the room. She couldn’t make the mistake of thinking Gods were the same as them.

“So with her dying breath she gave her essence to you and sent you to me for...what?” he asked, seizing her arm and pulling her towards him. Her stomach heaved and she wanted to wretch.

“I...she…” Being this close to him was physically exhausting. It sucked something out of her. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up and meet his eyes.

“Speak, girl, I’m growing bored of you,” He said with the same tone someone might use when having just eaten something putrid.

“A bride,” Nethira sputtered out. “She offers me to you as a bride,” She said. She wanted to pull her herself away from him but her body refused to listen to her commands. This was what it was like to truly be in the presence of a god.