Chapter 2 - Part III

"In the meantime, are you prepared to meet your fate?" the priest asked of the pale chef.

"Well, I suppose as much as I ever will be." Cedric gulped, "What did I ever do to deserve this? Oh Rel protect us."

"Yes, Rel protect us." echoed the robed man solemnly, but with distraction. He rose up from where he had been sitting with Cedric and called for the guard to let him out of the cell. On the opposite side of the metal cage, the robed man cleared his voice and recited:

"Prepare yourself for what lies ahead, my son. We shall not meet here again, but it is the hope of all the brethren in Rel, that the burdens of your journeys have been lifted. Our hope is that through me, your faith in Rel, the Keeper of Justice, has strengthened you for what lies ahead. I go, but Rel will always be with you."

Cedric touched his forehead in reverence and the priest nodded in response before taking his leave.

"Guard, I would speak with the other prisoner again, if I may." he informed the guard who was locking up Cedric's cell.

In a gruff voice the guard berated, "A fool's errand. Priest, your job here is to calm prisoners and make them less trouble for us before we off them. Let them find a little solace in Rel before the Void takes them, I can understand that. But that primitive creature can't even comprehend your sacred master, much less find solace in him. Don't waste your time."

"Master Guardsman," the priest reasoned, "Now that she faces the oblivion of the Void, it is her last chance to learn and pay respect to the Keepers of the World. It is our sacred duty to enlighten her people. It is why we abandon our homes, families and lives to travel to the Outer Crest. If she is not saved now, she never will be. It is up to me to see that she is prepared to travel the Void. I must try."

"Do what you must priest. Be quick. My mistress would not be terribly pleased to know the filthy thing that murdered her husband was to find any comfort whatsoever." As the robed man stepped in the cell he heard the guard close and lock the door behind him. The priest breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now," he switched to Nüish, "Can we try this again? I'd like to talk to you about where you came from."

No response.

"I know what they tell us about you is a lie, but more important is the truth. Care to enlighten me?" he proposed delicately.

Silence.

The man edged a little closer, "I promise I won't bite."

Still no reply.

"Are you ignoring me?"

Nothing.

He approached the dark skinned Nü with caution and brought out from the folds of his robe his intricately tattooed hand. This sign of a member of the priest class is specific to the Keeper the acolyte follows and it affords the man or woman instant identification to the often illiterate peasantry of the countryside. At each segment of the man's middle finger was a band of blue ink connected by a streak of blue that extended from the fingernail to a half moon imprinted just past his knuckle. Another blue band encircled his hand, around his palm. At the top of his wrist were two outwardly opposing arcs that connected to each other at the underside of his wrist.