High Priestess

Sepherene walked down the barren hallways with cold poise as the men and women behind her made not a sound, gazes glued to the floor and their own feet. In this moment that seemed to have been frozen in time, the only sound was the almost inaudible swish of her dress' helm swaying as she walked. Though this was the thousandth time she'd walked these corridors since becoming High Priestess, the perfectionism still stood out to her...as did the inhospitableness of it. For while the temple was a work of art, one which took over three centuries to built in the Almighty's name, it was no place for those of flesh and blood. No, only those more Divine than Mortal could find comfort in these halls. And even then, the Subordinate Gods under the Almighty refrained from dallying too long here. 

As her thoughts wandered over the construction of the pagoda, she felt a flitter of sympathy for the clergy behind her. These poor men and women dedicated everything-their childhood, their freedom, their lives, their souls-to a figure they could never approach, never touch, never be acknowledged by. They walked through the hallowed halls of their God yet were met with nothing but fringed cold and thinly veiled distaste for their kind. Then Sepherene remembered her own place in the grand scheme of things, and the purpose she was forced to shoulder, and found her heart no longer had room to pity others. 

'We all have a role to play in this world' the words of her mentor flickered through her mind unbidden. 'You can fight it, run from it, give in to it...but you can never deny it. All of us were placed on this earth to preform a task. Some are easier than others, while others will demand everything you could ever hold dear. And you, my dear disciple, are the latter.'

'You damn old man' she cursed internally. 'Where were you when I needed you, when I needed you the most?'

'I am sorry for what is to come, and that the Fates were cruel enough to deign such a purpose to a soul as young as yours. But don't hate "Him" too much either. The Almighty's purpose isn't much better than yours. In the end, I dare say "His" end will be many times worse...'

Those were the last words her mentor ever said to her, before the crusaders came to her village and razed it to the ground, before she was sold into slavery to serve as a blood bag for the Vampires, before she was violated and humiliated by a young Noble...before the Almighty burned them all at the stake and appointed her High Priestess of "His" new Church. 

As she focused her senses inwards and outwards simultaneously, taking in her own power and the awe the masses held for her outside the temple, she pondered the same question she had since that fateful day: was it worth it? Had she truly been rewarded by karma? Had all the bad been made up for by the good? Did the blessings out way the curses?

Immortality, dominion over the hearts and minds of millions, power to split the skies and rend the earth, beauty unparallell even amongst the Elves and Vampires...But was any of it enough to fill what she had lost, to cushion the chains that were now wrapped around her soul? Bitterness swept over her like a turbulent wave then, cresting against her intrusive thoughts and shaking her flimsy castle of sand she erected to fool others, and herself. She became aware of the followers again, and scorn took the place of sympathy. 

'Look at them shuffle along, heads bowed and spirits cowed. They will go out into the city now, to preach and sing of the Almighty's everlasting grace, of "His" infinite benevolence. They will regale how "He" freed Humanity from the Ancient Races, how "He" slew the mad Gods and took "Their" thrones. And my name will be on their lips too, the noble High Priestess, the virtuous Sepherene who was blessed and anointed by the Almighty, her saviour and liberator...Ah, Zephaniah spread my tale well, he did. Everyone knows my past, and how I owe everything to the Almighty. I am squire to the greatest God this world has ever seen, yet I operate out of fear of punishment, not love. Ye, how little the ignorant masses know of the Almighty's whip, of "His" temper and lash.'

'They live in eternal gratitude towards their liberator, but know not they have simply exchanged one slaver for another, one Godly master for the next.'

She felt a sudden longing for Rapelt swell in her breast, beating fiercely underneath her flesh. Rapelt, her kin. Rapelt, her partner. The hypocrisy of her desire did not escape her though. She scorned the malleable sheep that made up the Almighty's clergy, yet loved the most iconic sheep of them all. 

'Rapelt, the Almighty's errand boy' they mocked him. 'Rapelt, who never lead the legions against the insane hordes of Aurgelmir and Morduch, who failed his breakthrough to Sovereign twice, who only acquired his position through luck and servility. Rapelt, who exist only as a figurehead to unite the Church.'

And the worst part was that they weren't wrong. Rapelt was awarded not on merit, but on his zealotry to the Almighty. A dangerous move, one might argue, to place an incompetent subordinate in such an important post. But reality proved Rapelt held no real sway, that the internal matters of the Church were run by Sol and Tamar. The only command Rapelt wielded came from his Rank of Supreme, and even that was flimsy. Multiple members of the younger generation had already surpassed him in feats and Ascension, and rumours of replacement ran rampant through the halls of the citadel. 

'The life you will live is the price that you have to pay for a peaceful afterlife' her mentor had chided her. 'You are special Sepherene, whether you are aware of it or not. Such top the point where I was forced to seal your soul to stop the Vampires from finding out about you. Yes, I'm being quite serious here, please don't look at me like that. Your power is one of a kind, something the Gods would gladly fight over. After all, how often is it that a Cosmic user is born?'

Sepherene took a deep breath to dispel the heavy solemnness that had settled over her mind. Memories of her past, and of her mentor, came randomly to her, especially in times of stress or depression. While she resented that old man for his inaction during the raid, a part of her wondered how he was doing. She had asked the Almighty to search for him but the search cam up blank. Not overly surprising she supposed, since Seers were notoriously hard to track down when they were actively trying to hide. 

At that moment, Sepherene sensed a sting from her Mana Sense she hadn't recalled, being too lost in her thoughts to do so. Turning her head, she narrowed her eyes as she focused on a random room to her left.