Son of the Southern Sky: Temple Priestess Quest

You traipse down to the kitchens, skipping down steps two to three at a time and somehow managing to not crack open that pretty little skull of yours upon the stairs. It's a warm balmy day, so you stop at the central patio to enjoy the sunlight for a brief moment and offer a short prayer at the family alter for the gods to protect you. Personally you hope if any god decides to protect you out it's Ackeron. He is, in your opinion, the super coolest. Plus if he throws his thunder spear again then you have two towns. How cool would that be?

It would be super cool, that's what.

You barge into the kitchens with aplomb. "Millet!" You roar bursting into the room in what you imagine to be a very heroic pose.

Millet nearly drops a clay tray in surprise and fright. She squeaks and looks around wildly for a few seconds before she spots you and her expression relaxes. With her somewhat slender build, pale white skin, and dark gloomy hair, she looks almost like some sort of specter. You see Pare behind her, that rascal, make a silently amused expression from behind Millet and give him a dirty look as you go help her out.

"What're you doing?" You ask her as you lift the clay tray. Looks like there's some sort of flatbread on top. "Baking something?"

"Honeycakes."

You make an expression of excitement and reach out for one but Millet slaps your hands away. You give her a heartbroken betrayed expression, but she does not relent. "Don't touch those. Those are for the guest."

"Oh, really?" Now you're interested. Well, you were always interested but now you're more interested. This mysterious guest that your father is in a meeting with right now has been the talk of the household. "Do you know who he is?"

Millet shakes her head. "No but- hey!"

You mumbled out something around a mouthfull of honeycake and let Millet glare angrily at you for a few moments before regaling her with the story of your day, complete with fist fight action. Millet appropriate cooes, claps, and cheers at all the right points especially since you might have.... exaggerated a little bit about how the fight went to make it look colorful. It's not like spicing up the details will hurt anyone.

"So anyway, then I came home and my mom scolded me," you finish out by the well, hauling a bucket of cold clear water from its depths. You've managed to lead Millet away from her post in the kitchen since it wasn't particularly busy and now the two of you are enjoying the last rays of sunlight before the sun begins its setting journey. "Apparently I have to go to the temple tomorrow for lessons."

Millet smiles. "Sounds nice."

Nice? "Sounds more like a pain." You ladle out a sip of cool sweet water and make a sweet tone of satisfaction, before changing the subject. "Anyway what do you know about the visitor?"

"Hm? Didn't you already ask about him?" Millet gratefully receives the ladle from your hands and takes a sip of her own. "I told you I don't know who he is."

"Yeah, but like you've seen him, right?" You press for more. "Like what does he look like?"

"Hm." Millet taps her knee as she tries to remember. "...Not Veshti. Definitely not from around here. Maybe from one of the southern city-states. I remember he was wearing some sort of armor their warriors wear."

You try to dig back in your memory to remember the sort of armor the southerners wear. It's like... the helmets with the strange the feathers sticking out the top and the breastplate that looks more like a shield help on by straps, right? You try to affix the image in your head but you don't remember it well enough and it slips away from you.

Well you can probably catch a glimpse of him later. You have to. A foreigner! From somewhere other than Veshan. This is an interestingly rare enough occurrence that you can't afford to pass it up.

You get up, prepared to rush back to the house to catch a peek of the stranger, the foreigner, when a horse gallops past you on the dirt trod. You only manage to catch a single glimpse of the rider, a man with a strange cap with two feathers sticking up like tuft ears.

"Telurika?" Millet asks as you watch the rider gallop away. Her ears sound faint in your ears like she's so far away.

You shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. You probably can't even anyways. But your blood is warming and your heart is pumping. You want to run.

[ ] Chase

[ ] Don't chase

A/N: binary options are so cool you guys

You run. Fast as the wind and furious as the storm. You break into it with a sudden and thunderous start, leaving Millet far in the dust behind you before she can even react. Your legs swing and your heart burns. A smile tears at your face and struggles to break free.

You run.

You run as fast as you can, yet it is too slow. A man cannot outpace a horse at full gallop, a young girl even less so. Your feet trample dirt, your heart almost pumps out of your chest but the gap still widens. For a human to close the gap is madness. Anyone who can run that fast must be more than human.

You run.

You dig deep within yourself for something to overcome that barrier. And you find it. A well of unknown strength, a set of muscles never before touched. Your feel like Ackeron himself is pushing you forward as your body surges with an alien and divine strength. Bit by bit the gap is slowly close. You're running faster than a horse at full gallop. You're doing the impossible-

You trip.

Toe catches rock. Next step lands badly. Balance lost. You tumble forward head of feet, slamming into pack dirt path at full speed and come up sideways. Covered in dirty and sore all over you lay groaning on the ground.

"Telurika! Telurika!" From far away you hear Millet struggling to catch up. Your neck cranes futilely in an attempt to lift your head far enough out of the dirt to see her approach but it's a losing battle. You thump back into the dirt and just groan.

You literally ran yourself into the ground, you think you are entitled to that much at least.

"Telurika! Oh no, what did you do?" Millet says to you, pretty frazzled. She starts slapping your cheek and brushing dust away and you cycle through a set of annoyed faces as you squirm in discomfort. "Can you get up?"

She seems pretty seriously worried so you put the self pity on hold for the moment and clamber to your feet. Ugh. You spot a couple new cuts and scrapes. You're going to get chewed out by your mother for this when she specifically told you just earlier today to not get into trouble. "I'm fine. More or less."

But you might not be all that soon. Millet, unconvinced by your words, suggests your doom. "...let's go back."

You look back in the direction of home and sigh. Ugh. Nothing for it. "Let's go back."

So you go back and get utterly chewed out. It is an utterly uncomfortable experience that you do your best to forget. After some things you can't seem to remember for one reason or the other, mother, angered at you and in a thoroughly bad mood, sends you to bed without dinner.

It's all right though, Millet sneaks you a few more cakes and so though you go to sleep hungry, it is not painfully so.

Mother seems to have calmed down a bit by the time the next morn rolls around though. When you are dressing for the trip into the town she is back to the level of merely sighing at everything you do. She pulls the tunic over your shoulders and and fastens the linen with deft hands, somehow managing to avoid pricking you, a feat you have never yet managed while dressing yourself. A shawl of luxurious blue goes over your shoulder and you slip your feet into a new pair of sandals.

Then you are to wait patiently as she dresses herself without making trouble. This mostly involves you dangling your legs off a coach swinging idly, watching as your mother dresses herself in front of a mirror.

"...you seem ill-tempered, my little star," your mother says without turning around.

You shrug. "I guess." Your attempt to put on a cool front goes down the drain not two seconds later, though. "it's just that the temple is so boooooooooring."

"But you like the plays."

"Yeah," you nod. "'cause they're like stories. Not the dumb lectures."

"Well, then my little star." Your mother finishes binding her hair and gently takes you by the hand downstairs for departure. "How about I tell you a story to pass the time?"

[ ] Yeah! Storytime! You want to hear the story of...
[ ] Andalassi, the martyr
[ ] Amarati, the lawbringer
[ ] Ackeron, the thunderer
[ ] Drossi, the explorer
[ ] Something you've never heard before

[ ] Nah, you'd rather talk about...
[ ] Write in

[ ] Write in

A/N: it's a little bit awkward and not really my best work but perfect is the enemy of the good enough or something or whatever i dunno just vote and discuss or whatever