“Tunnels. The wicked spawn of Samleos have dug tunnels to allow themselves unobstructed access to the lands surrounding Far Felsen. You saw these tunnels?”
“Yes, High Priest,” Eir inclined her head in confirmation. “I saw the entrance to one such tunnel hidden in the side of a hill some five miles from the city walls, as the sparrow flies. I couldn’t say how deep or far it goes, but I could not see the end of it. Also, a horde of corrupted spawn poured forth from it in numbers that can be explained no other way. They must have either dug tunnels or expanded on an already existing cavern system.”
Eir stood before High Priest Gerhardt’s desk with her hands clasped before her, head bowed in polite deference. As was her duty, as soon as she’d returned from the field where she had accompanied the blessed Jay, Dys, and Syd, she had come back to the temple to deliver her report of what had happened that day. Just as the day before, she had gone over the excursion in broad strokes, providing the elderly human priest with the most relevant details. The finer points could be explained in a written report, a fact that Eir had every intention to take advantage of.
There was a possibility the Nephilim might bathe in the public bathhouse again.
“And how did the Nephilim react to this revelation? What actions did they take, if any?”
The High Priest was asking more questions this night than the last. Eir suppressed the minor irritation the extra questions inspired in her. Attention to detail was something she greatly respected about the High Priest. For the short time that she had known him, he had been unfailingly kind, if a little austere. He also always spoke and acted with a calm precision that Eir found to be strongly reminiscent of her cousin Vraekae, if less intense. Most likely that shared tendency towards precise details was why they got along so well.
And yet it was that normally admirable attention to detail that was starting to make Eir’s teeth grind. She didn’t know the three sisters would be at the bathhouse again, but there was a strong chance, considering how hard they had worked that afternoon, no doubt working up a sweat that would need to be cleansed.
Not that such perfect creatures as Nephilim would need to rid themselves of any foul excretions like a common elf. She’d been held so close to Syd and she’d smelled nothing distasteful, quite the opposite, really…
She was getting wildly off topic, her thoughts veering towards the inappropriate. And High Priest Gerhardt was still patiently waiting for an answer to his question.
“They acted as any stalwart faithful would. They rushed to the defense of the realm and stood bodily in the way of demons who sought to vent their corruption upon the land, slaying dozens. Their instincts to act as stewards of the gods’ will is strong. Once the mercenary company known as the Flame Wolves took control of the tunnel entrance, they gathered we who follow them and responsibly returned to the city.”
The High Priest nodded thoughtfully, stroking his white beard. He didn’t ask a further question, nor did he dismiss her. He mulled over Eir’s words with characteristic care, considering implications Eir was certain she was unaware of, if for no other reason than his far greater life experience.
As she waited for him to voice another question or release her from the debriefing, Eir took note of a few changes to his office. She had only been in the High Priest’s office twice before, once the night previous and before that, her first day arriving in Far Felsen.
Compared to other high priests of major temples, Gerhardt kept his quarters surprisingly empty. While it was true that most priests led simple lives with few personal belongings, there was no law among the priesthood that banned worldly possessions. As a human of advanced age and, presumably, many years of experience in the temple, Eir would expect Gerhardt to have some collection of sentimental trinkets on display. Gifts from the faithful, books written on the study of the holy scriptures, or perhaps even mementos of times spent serving the gods by wandering the lands and bringing blessings to the people. Such were all things Eir had seen in the offices of other high priests she’d known.
High Priest Gerhardt had none of those things. Besides the requisite tools needed for attending to paperwork and a beautiful tapestry depicting the creation of the world, there was nothing in the office except simple furniture. The bareness made Eir think of an ascetic monk, one of the small number of the divinely blessed who rejected all worldly bonds to further their connection to the gods. Yet the High Priest clearly wasn’t one of their kind, else he would be sequestered in a cloister somewhere, not running a temple.
There was, however, one new item in the room that had not been there before. It was a large and detailed map of Weigrun. She’d seen a much larger version in the city hall’s war room when she’d visited Vraekae previously. This map was not anywhere near so expansive, but it was still large enough that the High Priest had mounted it on a stand taking up most of one side of the office’s wall. Curiously, there were little pins inserted in the map with strings run between them, perhaps representing places visited or to be visited, or maybe outlining a path to be taken. The pins and strings followed a path from Far Felsen, up into the Great Southern Forest, past the abandoned Havenholt fortress, all the way to the base of the Kalters Wall mountains. There was the symbol of a little village there, a place called Sweet Pine Valley, that had several more strings of different colors radiating from it, spreading out into the mountains around the village.
Eir didn’t know what purpose the map and its strange markings held, but considering the place of prominence it held in the High Priest’s office, she assumed it had to be important. Perhaps it outlined a proposed expedition into demon-corrupted lands? It wasn’t unheard of elsewhere, but Eir hadn’t seen High Priest Gerhardt authorize a paladin-led raid to hunt down demons so far from reinforcements in all the months she’d been in Weigrun. Why now?
Such thoughts were a good distraction, keeping Eir from impatience. Whenever her thoughts turned towards the beautiful Nephilim, she only grew more restless and eager to leave. Thinking about the High Priest’s lack of personal accoutrements was safer.
“Thank you for your insight,” the High Priest finally spoke, his fatherly voice almost causing Eir to start in surprise. “I think you have given me enough to think on for now. I look forward to reading your report in detail tomorrow.”
“Then, by your leave,” Eir bowed and turned to go.
Before she could reach the door, however, he spoke again.
“Ah, but there is one more thing I almost forgot to ask.”
Eir’s teeth felt like they were going to crack, she clenched her jaw so hard. But she quickly composed herself and turned back to face the old fart—that was to say, wise elder.
“Yes, your grace?”
“You spent some time with Lyssandria’s Children yesterday, did you not?” the High Priest asked, a gentle but inquiring smile on his face.
“Of course,” Eir easily agreed. “I gave you my report on our trip into the field.”
“Not that,” he motioned with one hand dismissively. “You visited the bathhouse yesterday, at the same time the Nephilim and their partner were there, correct?”
Eir’s heart skipped a beat. How did the High Priest know about that? Why was he asking? She’d not done anything inappropriate, had she? Yes, she’d bathed in the same waters as the holy existences that were Jay, Dys, and Syd, but so had the human woman Aila. If an unconsecrated could, certainly she, a beloved priestess of Lyssandria was allowed. She’d also seen them in all their full, unclothed glory, but that was no sin. Beauty was meant to be beheld, so said Lyssandria in her scriptures. And she had let Syd rub her ear, inspiring a heat in her loins that no water could quench, extracting a promise from the blessed Nephilim to let her touch her sacred body anywhere she might so choose…
She may have overstepped her proper bounds there.
Swallowing the lump in her throat discretely, Eir bowed her head and answered truthfully.
“Yes, High Priest. I did visit the bathhouse at the same time as they. We shared a small time together in the pool.”
“Ah, I see,” he nodded his head as though some great mystery had been revealed to him. “And, please forgive the indelicacy of this question, but when you shared the pool with them, did you see their bodies? Were you able to determine which sex they belong to?”
Heat rose up into Eir’s cheeks. She thanked her mother for passing her dark red skin along to her as otherwise she feared if she had been born blue like her father, she’d be blushing so fiercely she would be as purple as her eyes.
“Yes, I did,” Eir responded, doing her best to keep her voice level. “They were as the Third Kind, just as written in Saint Sigrid’s scripture.”
After a pause, she half-mumbled under her breath an amendment.
“Though her drawings did not do the Nephilim justice…”
“The Third Kind,” Gerhardt repeated, his hand once again stroking his beard thoughtfully. “That is unexpected news, though not unwelcome. I had hoped they might be of the Fourth Kind, considering their unusual identical nature. It would have made some sense.”
The High Priest was talking of the androgenous breed of Nephilim. To her memory, the sexless version of Lyssandria’s Children had vaguely feminine features but had no genitalia. Unlike the masculine and feminine types of Nephilim that needed their opposites to reproduce just like any other race, or the dual-sex version that could reproduce with themselves or either of the other two, the fourth kind had children via some form of self-replication. Or so Saint Sigrid’s scriptures said. Eir couldn’t fathom how one could reproduce without the necessary… personal equipment, but some of the Nephilim had been able to. Thinking on it, the scriptures had said that the Fourth Kind always looked exactly as their mothers did, so High Priest Gerhardt’s assumption had held merit.
Privately, Eir was quite glad Jay, Dys, and Syd had turned out to not be androgenous. She had added her gratitude to her nightly prayers to Lyssandria.
“Does it matter which of the different sexes they are?" Eir asked after a moment’s thought.
“Perhaps,” High Priest Gerhardt said, eyes far away. “If there is to be any hope of more Nephilim coming into this world, it could make a great deal of difference. Though such considerations are secondary to the safety of the few we have with us now.”
Not secondary to her. Eir hadn’t dared think of such things in direct terms, but the High Priest was absolutely correct. If there were to be any more Nephilim, there would have to be certain actions taken. Actions that might begin with something as simple as a touch.
Eir’s ear twitched as thoughts of what a touch could lead to filled her mind.
“Well, well, I have held you for too long, child. I am sure you are tired from your excursion outside the walls,” the High Priest said, once again startling Eir as she had become lost in her thoughts. “Go and be at peace.”
Eir thanked the High Priest and once more turned to go but once again stopped at the door, this time of her own volition. A question had crossed her mind that needed to be voiced.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Eir?” he responded, having gotten up from his chair to stand before the large map. His hand was brushing lightly against the ink that represented Kalters Wall.
“Have the gods spoken to you concerning the Nephilim? Has any direction come?”
The elderly human partially turned back to face her, smiling regretfully.
“Alas, no. My ritual spell for communion with the gods is still on cooldown and will be for another four months. I have sent word to other High Priests who might have not yet used their guidance ritual for this year, but I have not heard back as of yet. You can trust that once I have heard any word of guidance, you and the other priests of the temple will know immediately.”
“Thank you, High Priest,” Eir bowed, then finally exited the austere office.
Hurrying along with as much decorum as she could, Eir headed for her quarters to gather a change of robes. She’d head straight for the bathhouse after and hopefully Jay, Dys, and Syd would still be there. Even if she didn’t get to spend much time with them considering the lateness of the hour, she still hoped she could see them, even briefly. Especially Syd.
Nothing could ever make the beautiful Nephilim seem ugly, but Eir had run out of magic power before she could completely restore Syd to her naturally perfect state. It was no laughing matter, but Eir couldn’t help a small upturning of her lips as she thought of the last image she had of Syd. She had looked a bit funny missing one of her eyebrows.
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