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Sanovar, Bern. Were it not for the Ceroll volcano, the Lycian invasion of Etruria, or the maddening anti-magic paranoia sweeping through Lycia, Sanovar might not have even existed. While it was perhaps uncomfortably close to Pherae (within 3 days march), Sanovar did offer a better quality of life than other places in south Bern.

But Sanovar's different ethnic groups did not always mix together, and often clumped together to form unintentionally segregated neighborhoods. Outside of the large Bernese neighborhood, there was also a prominent Eshren neighborhood on the east end of town, and a growing Etrurian neighborhood on the south side of town. Many of the Lycian refugees were making their home there as well.

Sanovar was known for not only it's population but also for being somewhat of a haven for pirates and smugglers. It was doubtful that the Bernese authority (in particular, the local governor) was fond of the town's reputation, but given these turbulent times, it was suitable.

A bit less of a melting pot, and a bit more like a pile of papers. They're not all melting together... they're all in the same pile, but distinct from each other. Selia Carnove mused to herself. As the sun began to set around Sanovar, she walked into a fairly prominent tavern in the Bernese neighborhood. She knew a few of the workers by name, and she felt comfortable getting food there.

She had spent her workday reading over a dark magic tome that some mindless (former?) magician had left around. Business had been so slow today that she had gone over the tome in a fair amount of detail.

"Ay, Selia, the constables are awful on-edge today." one of the barmaids said to Selia in Eshren. Selia knew this woman, Milda, the only Eshren on the staff. Milda was approaching half a century old, but the years had not been kind to Milda. Selia wondered how that could be.

"Milda, they're always on edge here. If we're not all conscripted in a few years it'll be a miracle." Selia replied.

"Some rumor that the infamous assassin, the Iron Hawk, might be in town." Milda said.
"I hear they might have caught him. Wonder how he got here of all places?"

"Sounds like they need an excuse to arrest people. They've been doing that a lot lately." Selia replied, a bit annoyed with her friends naivety. Even though her eyes said exactly where she was from, Selia had been working on her Bern accent, and it had been enough to get by. It had gotten her (at least, in her own head, it had), out of potential scrapes with guards, customers, and annoying kids on the street.

Upon thinking about what Milda had said, Selia did notice a certain tension among the guards.

"Maybe you're right, though, it does seem like they're scared... but of what?" Selia said to Milda.

Before the conversation could continue, Milda was called away by the other kitchen workers, leaving Selia by herself for the time being. She swiveled her head around, noticing that there wasn't much of a crowd in tonight.

After hearing a boom of thunder in the distance, and a slight patter of light rain outside, Selia thought she understood why. Silently cursing herself for not dressing a bit warmer, Selia was thankful that she at least brought her purple and red hooded cloak with her.
Being in Sanovar had tired Sergius out. While there weren't many Illians, many of the refugees had recognized him as an Eliminean priest, and he had been ministering to them for about a week now. He'd never done something like this before, and the constant recitation of rites he'd almost forgotten while on his journey were by no means accompanied by the full pomp of a service.

Weary and reeking of incense, Sergius found himself walking into the Bernese neighborhood. He had grown tired of ministering to the people, and rushed to take a break in a place where he wouldn't be recognized and asked for blessings or prayers. He tipped his head to the guards on the streets. Some had responded amicably, greeting him as the holy man he was, but others stared him down like a potential threat. This was just what he'd come to expect in Sanovar. Sergius was sure it was a general distaste for foreigners. His accent, mannerisms, and clothing were distinctly Illian, and while he'd been in the town for a week, he'd only seen a handful of people like himself.

He ducked into a tavern as the rain began, occupying one of the many empty tables. over at the counter were two women speaking a language he didn't quite understand. His drink and food were thankfully brought swiftly, and he offered a quick blessing to God and St. Elimine before he began to eat. Sergius laughed to himself about the many patrons wrapped in their cloaks and bundled against the cold. This was nothing compared to the freezing winters back home. Cold made you healthy, and without it, your bones couldn't grow. Or at least, that's what everyone said. The reason Southerners were small of stature was because they didn't have proper cold to grown on. He was glad he hadn't turned out like one of them.
Selia turned her head slightly, noticing the tall meat mountain of a man take his place at a nearby table but not giving him much of a second thought as she returned to her meal for a moment. Orange hair, ruddy skin... dressed like that... can't be from here. Or Sacae. This place is about as lively as a graveyard tonight... he might be cute if he grew the mustache out...

Hearing what she thought might have been a laugh made Selia wonder if she had actually been talking aloud to herself. She had said dumber things in public before... but she had been somewhat intoxicated those nights.

Reverting to her usual, practical way of thinking, a thought occurred to Selia. He might have been around a bit. Might know what's going on. Milda's brain has been hard to pick tonight...

Selia wiped her hands clean, using the napkin provided for her, and left a nice tip before standing up and looking over at the tall, bearded man. After staring out the window momentarily, collecting her thoughts, she approached the tall man.

Before speaking, she caught the scent of incense and noticed the clothing was a bit heavier than what would be usual for this part of the world. He's from colder climate... either involved with drugs or religion, and given some priests I've met, I wouldn't doubt both... hmm, let's see if he's from here...

Selia made no attempt to hide her heavy Eshren accent once she spoke. She had no fear of racist slurs hurled around in this establishment, and besides, she was armed.

"Cheers. You know anything about what's stirred up the constables? They're acting like they've just seen their little sister marry an Eshren." she smirked, poking fun at the (correct) perception that the Bernese constables feared intermarriage between Bernese and Eshren residents. Eshrens could be just as hardheaded sometimes, but not as often.
Sergius took a small pause from his food to take a breath and drink. It seemed the girl at the bar with the purple and red cloak had stopped her chatting with the cook and come to approach him. He smiled widely, stroking his beard in an attempt to brush away any crumbs that might have managed to catch. He had to look presentable for a possible sister in the faith coming to him for advice. She looked very polished, almost as if she had taken refuge from the rain in this tavern as a small lapse from important business.

"Cheers and blessings," Sergius saluted in response, raising his glass. He chuckled slightly at her comment and sipped lightly at the lukewarm ale, trying to place her accent. She could very much be part of the Eshren community in Sanovar, a group he did not know entirely very much about, but she sounded almost like a fellow Ilian. Could he have been spotted by someone who recognized his garb and took solace in it? He hoped so. After all, the whole point of being here was to give others solace and combat any evils, both internal and external, voluntary and involuntary.

"I'm not sure I know much," he replied. "They treat me with as much caution as any other foreigner. Come, sit. We can discuss this matter together." Sergius offered the seat across from him at the table.

"You don't happen to be from Edessa, do you?" he asked. The accent was hard to place, but usually people from larger cities spoke several languages. Merchants, too. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this woman yet, but the least he could do was offer respite.
Selia observed the man's reactions to her quip. A slight chuckle, without any further reply. He might understand the comparison, but perhaps not the context to provide a suitable reply.

Once he spoke, Selia found his accent very intelligible, something she occasionally struggled with if it was an accent unfamiliar to her. She couldn't immediately place where his accent said he was from. Definitely further north, and he's not Sacaen or Etrurian. Ilia. Has to be from there.

"I'm not sure I know much," he replied to her. "They treat me with as much caution as any other foreigner. Come, sit. We can discuss this matter together." Definitely further north, and he's not Sacaen or Etrurian. Ilia. Has to be from there.

Selia took the seat opposite the man, straightening her blouse a little. She folded her right knee over the other, giving the robed man a sign that she was willing to invest time in the conversation. As if on cue, the man popped a question; "You don't happen to be from Edessa, do you?" Thought so. Wonder if they still have pegasi up there?

She smiled at him, brushing some of her bangs back a little.

"No, I'm from the east end of town, and before that, southern Ceroll." Selia replied. Most of the Eshren population in Sanovar was from various parts of Ceroll, and while some of them would often pine for the disaster there, Selia was not one of those.
"If the constables know you're Eshren, you'll get picked on by them a lot in the east end of town. I had heard that they were after some big time assassin, someone named the Iron Hawk, but I thought that was just a legendary killer from Nabata or Missur. Maybe I'm mistaken there."
Sergius scratched at his beard. Eshre wasn't really a place he knew much about, as it had never come up in any readings of the saints. Still, it was interesting to hear, and he felt sorry for the lady for her displacement. Seemed to be much akin to the Lycian and Etrurian refugees. Bern seemed to have been pushed to the brim, and he could see how readily tensions would flare between the two different groups. He was reluctant to mediate any of these issues. It would probably fall upon him as both an outsider and a priest at some point, but there was no telling what would happen.

He grunted a noise of contemplation. "I'm not sure if I know of any Iron Hawk, but the people have been frightened. More so than what I usually see in ministry. This isn't just fear of God," he laughed.

"Still, I remember seeing a man who called himself the Steel Eagle growing up. Used to be the only man for miles who could ride a pegasus. Made a good show of it. But that's probably not anywhere near what you're looking for."
Selia's suspicions about the man being in religion were confirmed once he mentioned a God. Selia was never much of a believer, never understood religion as more than anything but a social construct. She had not felt comfortable around most priests in the past, found some of them to be the worst type of shut-ins imaginable. Granted, some of her doings would make most any priest demand for either her incarceration or damnation. But Selia was an opportunist.

The wheels began to spin in her mind. She wondered for a moment if anyone would miss this one if he turned up missing... or maybe if some of his gold turned up missing. Granted, she wasn't dressed to play the part of a seductress tonight, either, and nothing about his body language suggested that type of interest in her.


The priest(?) recounted to her a story about a man on a pegasus, called the Steel Eagle. If Selia had ever heard of the Steel Eagle, than she hadn't committed it to memory.

"The Iron Hawk I'm referring to would kill with a knife that had a hawk emblazoned on the pommel. That's how he got his name, supposedly." Selia said.
"There's a lot of stories about him, so many you wonder if it's all one person or an imitator."

A boom of thunder, closer, this time, made Selia realize that it was raining a bit harder. While rain didn't bother her, she figured her skirt and undergarments were too light and might get uncomfortably clammy.

She paused a little, thinking for a moment. I'd best be headed home, but at the same time, doing it alone might be kind of stupid. Granted, taking this man around there might not be good for his well-being either, but with hair that color he could probably pass, and he looks like he could break a thug in half if he needs to...

"Whenever you're finished... there's a really nice inn in the east end of town. Quiet place, probably the cheapest roof over your head you can find." Selia commented.
"On paper it's a pricey stay unless... you understand certain Eshren customs and the like. If you know how to appease him, it's probably the cheapest stay in town that isn't right near the docks or over a stable. I can fill you in on what to say and what not to... might not sound like the most honest thing to do, but just about every room for rent around here is like that. Know what to say in advance... and you'll get a silent discount."

Selia had taken a merchant friend there once for a night. She hadn't seen the man in over a year, but she had seen his merchant ship show up several times.

Her offer to this priest was genuine, being stopped by the constables on the way home was not something she wanted to have happen. She was less nervous about being closer to home, as most of the Eshrens looked out for each other. This sort of arrangement was not unlike what she had heard about the other ethnic neighborhoods did. Selia suspected that cities much larger than Sanovar had similar arrangements.
Sergius winced at the mention of the killings. Seemed like a murderer more than anything, wanting to make an identity for himself, and most likely inspiring a hundred assassins to take his name. He knew nothing about the criminal underworld, and this seemed like something brutal that all criminals would do, petty or not. The name itself was vicious.

Her suggestion of finding a room at an inn almost angered him. It wasn’t the obvious deception of what she called the “silent discount,” but rather, the implication that he’d be willing to walk into an inn with her and purchase a room. He hastily downed the last of his ale, and slammed the tankard down a bit harder than he should have.

“Miss, if you’d like me to walk you home, you need only have asked, but my place tonight is with those who need me.” A room at an inn and a soft bed wouldn’t deter him from his purpose. He was here to minister to the displaced Lycians and Etrurians, not to live in comfort in a town full of brigands and thieves and blonde women who are so quick to scam a man out of his due pay.
Selia's smile turned more to admiration, nodding slightly as the priest correctly assumed her actual purpose. She flinched a little to the tankard being slammed onto the table, more at the volume of the noise than of actually being scared.

"Glad to see there's someone who understands how the law operates around here, and if you're still willing to walk me home, that would be much appreciated." she replied, not denying his statement, and keeping her tone of voice the same as it had before. Hmm, damage control...
"It's seldom I see a clergyman with your level of dedication to their work. Apologies for my earlier assumption."

She expected the priest would notice her reaction, including what she had left unsaid. Feeling that she had a vague understanding of what type of man he is, Selia stood up and extended her left hand to him across the table. It was common for Eshrens to greet with the left hand instead of their right, and Selia wasn't familiar enough with any Elibean interpretation of religious scripture to know if there was a right or wrong way to approach this.

"I'm Selia Carnove, and you?" she said in a more disarming tone.
Sergius nodded appreciatively at her comment. He was glad she'd been smart enough to have finally caught on to his being a holy man, and finally stop her pithy attempts at seduction. There was no purity in what she did, but these were the kinds of foreigners that one must deal with during travel.

He stood up along with her after leaving an adequate payment on the table. Sergius tried to conceal his frown when she offered her left hand, but he readily took it into an awkward shake with his own right hand.

"Sergius," he introduced himself. "Where are we walking to, Selia?"

He began a fast paced walk to the door, whispering a small incantation and prayer. He opened the door for Selia with his right hand, projecting with his left a small barrier of light magic, about a foot above the door frame, that blocked out the oncoming rain, a small trick he had learned from the masters in the drearier parts of Etruria. If his shield could hold fast against a sword, it could hold fast against raindrops. He kindly made a motion as to wave her through the door after himself, pleasingly listening to the patter and sizzle of the raindrops onto the warm light magic.
Selia returned the awkward handshake, silently noting the priest, Sergius's choice. She replied to his comment with; "East end of town, not too far from the docks and the inn that I had mentioned earlier." she followed him to the door, halting her speech as Sergius put up a little... magic umbrella. Cute.
"Thanks for that... anyways, there's a little magic shop in that area run by an old man and his twin brother. It's a good place, one of them is more of a light magic practitioner, the other one more keen on elder magic. You don't have to take me any further then that, I can make it home from there."

Selia led the way, opting to take the main road northwards until the first available sidestreet eastward. Since much of Sanovar was haphazardly planned, some streets had a tendency to wind around unnecessarily, and street lamps were placed in odd locations.

"After the fifth lamp, we'll be taking Barker all the way to its south end." Selia commented, referencing the name of the street she would be turning down on. Despite that it was named after some old Bernese merchant, Barker Lane was known to be a detour into the Eshren neighborhoods. This sidestreet, however, was mostly just a bunch of older buildings, occupied mostly by businesses. Most all of the signage appeared in Elibean, but the closer Selia and Sergius got to Barker Lane, the more they could see posters and flyers written in both Elibean and Eshren.

Out of a mild sense of paranoia, Selia would occasionally look behind them to make sure they weren't being followed. While there were still some people wandering the streets, none of them gave Selia and Sergius much more than a second glance after seeing Sergius's light-umbrella. To break the silence, Selia looked over at Sergius, continuing to keep pace.

"What's the far north like? You asked me about Edessa earlier, so now I'm curious if you could part ways with a story or two." Selia asked.
Sergius gladly followed her directions as they walked around the city. It was a nice saunter, and he reveled in the fact that people kept their distance, even more so than before, upon seeing his umbrella. There was some joy in being left alone and knowing that none of the passers-by were keen on roughing you up.

The streets wound and wrapped like crazy, and he wondered how he was going to find his way home. Maybe the inn had not been a bad idea after all.

As they walked, he was content to remain in silence, but responded joyfully when Selia asked him about Ilia.

"Ah, Edessa's not so far from where I grew up. The land's quite cold and there's not much there for anyone. But the people are kind to each other, if only for the fact that most everybody knows their way around a sword and lance. Not many people you can insult there," he mused, scratching his beard. The other countries on earth were much different that way. It seemed like people were much too excited to start fights.

"After a while at home, I moved to a monastery even further north. It was truly rugged, but the land was well suited for introversion. But when it comes to matters of war, peace, and the salvation of fellow man, it doesn't help anyone to be cooped up in an abbey, not even yourself. That's why I'm here now."
Selia gave Sergius her attention, listening to him speak about Ilia, while still keeping her eyes scanning the roads. While she had not heard of the fondness most Ilians had for their weapons, she suspected that Ilia's lack of much political strife had its source. Words that Sergius spoke about isolation seemed to ring a little in Selia's head. There was an ever-looming threat of war, and Selia's situation in Sanovar was not ideal.

"Doesn't sound too bad, but I understand what you mean about being isolated. Feels that way too around here..." Selia said, turning down Barker Lane.

It looked fairly obvious to see why anyone would feel uneasy on Barker Lane, as merely turning down it felt like venturing into a diseased, crumbling wing of society. Some of the buildings were either in disrepair or looked shabbily constructed. The road was wide enough for two horse drawn carriages but it would not have been a smooth ride. It was clear that some of the side alleys led to some of the seedier bits of the area. While Barker Lane itself was well-patrolled during the day, the patrols at night were questionable to say the least. Tonight they seemed completely absent.

Recognizing a landmark building across the street, Selia pointed to it. "There used to be a weekly wizard club over there... it since moved into the other side of town. I show up there as often as I can... I've always had a fascination with magic, but it can be an expensive hobby." she stated, shrugging. She continued to lead the way down Barker Lane, looking around in all directions, keeping a bit of a lookout...

Selia's attention was snared when she peeked down an alley off to their right, and saw what looked like the silhouettes of two men ducking behind the nearest building, as if ducking for cover. What appeared to be the body of another person was lying in the middle of the alley, but it was too far away to make out. Selia stopped in her tracks and looked up at Sergius, not entirely sure if she should investigate. Normally, Selia might have passed this up unless she was closer to home, but Sergius did state that he felt a duty to help others...
Sergius picked up on Selia's scanning of the street once they turned down Barker Lane. He couldn't rationally say he was scared, as he'd imagine that nobody would want to bother him, but it was conceivable that someone might be in dire need. The buildings and storefronts in the area seemed ragged, as did the very few people that were out.

"Ah, magic isn't so expensive once you memorize a few spells. It's the big, flashy ones that can bleed you dry," he said in reply, looking forward to possibly attending one of the club meetings she had mentioned. It would be worth it to get decent practice on something a bit more aggressive than what was allowed by the church scholars...

Sergius followed Selia's gaze down the alley, and caught barely a shadow. But he could distinctly see a man crouched over in the mud of the road. He caught her gaze and nodded at her quickly, breathing an incantation under his breath to illuminate the alleyway with a small ball of light. He swiftly and purposefully began his walk to the alleyway, trying to remember what little healing spells he could remember, much less pull off without a staff.
Selia was much more wary than Sergius was, and approached cautiously. There was some ten meters between where the figure lay and Barker Lane. She ran through what she had read in the elder magic tome earlier in the day and the incantations were coming to her, but she hadn't much tested these spells out. In any case, Selia had a knife at her side and she hoped it would suffice.

The figure lying in the road appeared to be a middle-aged man wearing stained dark blue robes, a hood drawn over his face. The hilt of a long knife could be seen protruding from his chest, the amount of visible blood indicating that the user was perhaps not a professional killer. At one side were a pair of books, one of which was opened, as if he had been reading it.

As Sergius's wisp began to illuminate the alleyway, no signs could be seen of the two men that had ducked away, but Selia kept her eyes open. Once they passed the building the men had ducked behind, they revealed themselves.

Both of the men looked out of place in this environment. They were rugged, hairy, and dirty, but both men sported gear that seemed suited for survival in the wilderness. Neither of them were much taller than Selia, but they were well-built.

"Put out the light and step away from the body, nothing over here concerns you." one of the men said with a heavy Lycian accent. The second man looked down the alley and shouted down it, as if it was directed at someone else. "Minor problem here... we'll sort it out!" Again, a heavy Lycian accent.

The two men looked at Sergius impatiently, clearly seeing him as more dangerous than the smaller, but still wiery Selia.
Sergius ran to the man in the middle of the road, trying to get a hold on where his wound was. He almost felt like weeping. The wound looked much more grievous than he knew how to heal. He was trying to support the man's head when the two figures appeared.

Lycians, and rough ones at that. The two men seemed like they had just come back from the wilderness. Might have been the case, as many Lycians ran away and did such. Still, for all of their trouble, there was no recourse for those whom could end up murderers. Sergius was fuming. An innocent in cold blood. This could only be paid by blood.

"Cover your eyes," he whispered to Selia. His fists clenched and began to glow with light magic.

"God will sort this out," he spat at them. The wisp went out suddenly. The blackness was cut by a wall of pure light, bathing the alleyway in a nearly midday glow, and cutting the aggressors off from the stabbed man. The wall was weak, and would likely shatter at the first blow, but he hoped it would have stunned them enough for him to cast a more powerful spell. He quickly looked through his small booklet for a new incantation.
Selia's face was steely, her eyes narrowing at the two men before her. While Sergius was clearly more emotionally affected by this situation, Selia had escaped all sorts of dangerous men in alleys before. On cue, she pulled her right arm over her eyes, and heard the glassy sounds of the barrier which Sergius must have erected.

Caring not for whatever Sergius might have to say about it, Selia muttered an incantation to herself. Static pops and a low humming noise came from her left hand. Inside the palm of Selia's hand, a dark ball of energy began to form and grow, appearing to drink all of the light around it. Selia pulled her right arm down to take a better shot...

The two brigands before them averted their eyes and drew swords, clearly taken by surprise. The second man lashed out with a horizontal swing of his sword, slicing through the barrier as if he was slicing warm butter. His swing had too much follow-through, and the sword loudly clanged against the brick wall.

As if on cue, Selia released the ball of energy from her left hand, watching it seemingly liquify in midair. The energy ball seeped into the ground, the low humming noise growing quieter.

Selia's aim, however, was off, and she missed where the first man had stood... but where the second man was standing, dark energies swirled out of the ground and impaled the man's chest, burning him in a way Selia did not think he would recover from quickly.

The first brigand looked over at Sergius, and prepared to lunge at the priest, but he appeared to not be able to see Sergius clearly enough to properly attack him.

Selia, in the meantime, prepared another incantation of the same spell, not content with just wounding the second man. Selia was no angel, she had her share of blood on her hands, all of it out of necessity. Almost all of it.
Sergius's blood was boiling, perfect time for a fight. As the light barrier quickly dissipated into nothing, he had spoken a quick few words, charging his hands with a thick and powerful coating of light magic. The first brigand lunged at him, aiming for right between his illuminated hands. A perfect opportunity.

Sergius caught the blade with his hands, a move that would have severed his thumbs had they not been protected by the thick barrier of magic. The ruffian, stunned, stopped abruptly. The monk jerked the blade out of his hands, sending it clattering to the ground, echoing through the alleyway. With a lumbering movement, Sergius grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, picking him up and slamming him against the brick wall.

The light magic of his grips began to steam the water off of the man's clothes, and the slick brick offered little grip for him to pin the thug. Sergius pushed him harder against the wall, in an attempt to trap him. Selia seemed to be more than capable, and he hoped to God the man's partner wouldn't stab him in the back.

"Why did you kill him?!" he barked, spraying rain and spittle on the man's face. "Why do you lack light?!"
The second thug made an approach on Sergius, but Selia's second spell put more holes in him before he could get close enough. As the man tumbled to the ground, Selia approached him, and instead of interrogating him, she delivered a kick to the man's groin out of annoyance.

After noticing a lack of a response from the man's body, Selia peered down the alley where the man had apparently shouted to another. She saw nobody, before returning to the corpse of the innocent man in the alley. While she listened to Sergius shouting at the first thug, Selia was more interested in the belongings of the unfortunate soul that had been murdered.

Hearing Sergius ask the thug why he apparently lacked light confused Selia a bit, but it confused the thug even more.

"Why do I lack what?!" the thug shouted back at Sergius, confused by the question and not afraid for his own life.
"Let me go, you heretic... your willingness to side with these sinners and heathens is why your country has failed you!"

Selia inspected the two books on the corpse, and one of them was a book on elder magic. The other appeared to be some kind of history book, which Selia intended to ponder over later. What interested Selia most was not the books themselves, but that the elder magic tome appeared to have notations in it written in Eshren.

Curious, Selia looked at the corpse's eyes, and they were a shade of purple that was unmistakable. This man was from the Eshren part of Sanovar, but Selia did not recognize his face.

"Listen to your own religious leader, you tarvos-spawn." Selia said to the thug whom Sergius had in his grasp in a hard tone. She noticed that the man understood the term Eshrens had for brigands, particularly applying to Lycian brigands.

"The both of you and everyone in this town are sinners that will meet their end in the fiery pits of hell!" the man replied back.
Sergius only became angrier at the thug's accusations. He grabbed the man harder, pressing his entire weight into him. He squirmed as Selia insulted him in what he could assume was Eshren.

"My country has not failed. It is yours that has been torn apart by sin!" Sergius stated disappointedly. "You have solved nothing. Atone, murderer. The Light of Elimine is upon you."

Sergius began to whisper another prayer, and the light magic around his hands began to heat. He leaned against the man's chest, pressing harder as he could smell the clothing begin to burn. "Repent. Repent for the damage you have done to your country and for the lives you have taken."
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