The warm fire fought against the cold open air. Its little flames worked hard against the cold seeping into Sonhu's skin. Not even his fur could keep him warm at these temperatures. The night wind nipping at him, he shivered slightly. The four men sitting around the campfire remained quiet. An unbroken tension hung in the air. Sitting across from Sonhu was the priest. He was surrounded on each side by one of his crusaeders.
The priest was a fat man with no chin. It was lost somewhere in the folds of his neck. His hair was white and receding. His stomach, a bulge that was visible beneath his loose white robe. His fingers, thick and bloated, were greasy and soft. The priest's robes were clean white with intricate patterns painted gold along the seams. The cleanliness and sophistication of the robes contrasted with the man beneath them in a way that only made him look more repulsive.
The crusaeders beside him seemed identical in every way at first glance. Shiny silver armor covered their entire bodies. Both had shields engraved with the wreath symbol of the Church of Syrgerd. Despite the efforts of their order to make them seem indistinguishable, spending time with these men, it was easy to see they were very different. The one on the right of the priest was an experienced fighter. His posture was straighter, and his movements were almost effortless and comfortable in the armor. His voice was gruffer and was aged like fine wine. It held composure, confidence, and experience. It was a voice you wanted to trust.
The other man was younger. You could see his inexperience in how he moved—stiff, slow, stumbling. His speech was simpler and had an odd cadence. He reminded Sonhu of an oaf. Sometimes, he wondered if the man would stumble over and squash him.
In contrast to both the crusaeders, he was small. Though not shorter than the crusaeders, his thin frame looked like it might fold in the next gust of wind. He was an outcast—amongst Talmari, who valued strength, his small frame had always been a mark of shame. His tail flicked back and forth. He had been traveling with the priest and his crusaeders for three days. It was a shock when the priest approached him, hiring Sonhu to guide their trip. It was not common for holy men of the Syrgerd faith to approach Beastfolk without hostile intent, much less to request their assistance. The silence hung heavy for a bit longer, and only the crackle of the fire interrupted it.
"So, tiger boy… where exactly are you from?" the priest asked, his voice deep and drawn out. The question took Sonhu by surprise. The priest had yet to ask him something like that. Contracts like this, especially with humans, tended to be impersonal, only asking questions about locations, plants, and animals… It took him a moment to respond.
"Kyendon," he replied. "It's a bit north of Trest."
"I know Trest." The fat man said with a chuckle, scratching where his chin should be. "It gets cold up there, doesn't it?"
"I guess. It's been a while since I've been there."
"Really?" The man asks curiously. "An' why's that?"
"I don't know…" He replied uncomfortably, his tail twitching. "I guess because there's no place for someone like me up there."
"Not many catfolk up there?" He asks.
"No… it's not that…" Sonhu says, struggling to find the right way to explain it. "Kyendon is mostly Talmari. It's ju-"
"He's so scrawny." The older crusaeder interjects. "I mean, look at him. Beastfolk like that generally don't make it."
"Ah, I see." The priest nodded, "So this Kendon is near Trest, huh… I've known a few priests who have gone to Trest… Beastfolk in those areas generally give them trouble."
The silence returns once again. The priest eventually says.
"We should get some rest when we arrive at the temple tomorrow." The two crusaeders get up abruptly, the older one helps the priest, and then they head to their tent. Sonhu sits with the fire for a few more minutes before pulling out his mat and curling up next to the fire.
They wake early the next morning and pack up camp quickly. They head out and move through the forest before sunrise. Sonhu leads the way with the younger crusaeder and the priest close behind him and the mature crusaeder taking up the rear. After a few hours of walking, they come across an old stone path. The edges are broken by roots and some foliage, but for the most part, it is intact. They follow the trail for a little while. It leads them to a set of steps that make their way to an old temple.
The building was old and unlike any temple he had seen before. Its architecture is slightly different, with pillars surrounding a dome building, but the wreath symbols and statues were unmistakably Syrgerd designs. The small party made their way up the steps to the temple's main doors. The older crusaeder took the lead, pushing open the stone double doors. The room was a long corridor leading to stairs descending to some unknown area. The temple was dark. Dusty cloth tapestries hung against the walls, and their images faded. The priest and crusaeders took no interest in them and walked down the hall unfazed. Sonhu followed behind them.
The younger crusaeder stopped and took out a torch and lit it. The group began the descent down the steps. As Sonhu walked behind them, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. His neck fur stood on its ends. A chill ran down his spine. As they continued to walk down the steps, something unseen clung to the walls. Each step echoed too loudly.
"What exactly are you looking for here?" Sonhu asks them. All he had been told was they were looking for a temple. They never seemed to answer whenever he asked why they had been going there before. He had assumed it was some pilgrimage thing. Once again, they gave no response. They just continued down the seemingly never-ending stairs.
Eventually, they reach the end of the stairs, and it is another musty corridor. They walk down it for some time before the group reaches a set of double doors. The older crusaeder pushes on it, but it doesn't open. He tries again, pushing it with his shoulder, but it doesn't give. The other crusaeder walks up to the door and moves the torch around, searching the door. There is a small metal keyhole in the door. The priest turns to Sonhu, staring at him expectantly. Sonhu moves to the door, crouching down. He pulls out thin wires and begins to fiddle with the lock. His cat ears flick as he listens to the lock. His hands move expertly around and then click. He then gives it a slight push, and it swings open, revealing an open room.
The room is large and very empty. There are no tapestries or decorations, just a few pillars with a statue in the center. The room's roof is rounded, and some sunlight spills through a crack. After how long they had descended, it almost seemed impossible for sunlight to reach here, but here it was.
"This is it…" The priest says breathlessly. As if he had not expected to find this… whatever this was. He pushes past Sonhu, followed closely behind by the two crusaeders. Sonhu stands up and follows them slowly. The chills and feeling of being watched have gone quiet. Not in a way that they had subsided, but not in an extinguished way. More like they had become hushed in anticipation.
The priest and the crusaeders circled the statue of the woman, whispering to each other in hushed voices. She must have been some saint or something. Her face was pretty, and her figure was seductive. It was odd for a church to have made it because of how it… lacked the modesty of the church. In front of the statue was a slab of stone. Some altar. A thick square piece with a dust-worn cloth.
Sonhu decided to keep his distance, leaning against the pillars as he watched them pace around the statue. They continued to mutter to each other and examine the statue for a few more moments before the priest turned back and squinted, searching the room for Sonhu. Humans lacked the same night vision that Talmari and some of the other "Beastfolk" had. Sonhu made his way closer to the group, where the priest finally could see him.
The priest beckoned him forward and said, "Come here, get a look at this."
It seemed a strange request, but clearly, this statue meant something to the man, and the priests never gave up on an excuse to teach the "Beastfolk" about religion and culture. Sonhu moved towards the statue, observing it with insincere interest.
"She's so… dignified," He said to the priest, trying to figure out what words to use that wouldn't offend the man. The priest chuckled in response and moved away from him towards one of the crusaeders. Sonhu watches him from the corner of his eye.
An abrupt step in his direction from the other crusaeder. Sonhu had not noticed him until then, but the step caught his attention. Sonhu's instincts kicked in as he moved to dodge, but the crusaeder was fast and grabbed a hold of the scruff of his neck. Sonhu resisted, but his grip was firm. Sonhu lets out a low growl and then swings at him with his claws, but the other crusaeder is upon him and restrains him with a bear hug. Sonhu struggles against him.
"Let me go." His voice cracked, "What… what are you doing?" Fear pulses through his veins. His mind races. The two crusaeders move Sonhu to the stone altar before the statue. They position him firmly, kneeling before the altar and resting his head on it. His temple pressed against the cold stone.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked. The priest moves before the altar, his nasty face looming over Sonhu. A smug grin rests eerily upon his face.
"Do not worry, boy." The priest says, "Dying in the name of the Lord will surely be favorable to your soul despite you being a Beastfolk." The priest draws a long dagger from his robe. Its hilt is made of gold and wrapped in leather. The priest gives it to one of the Crusaeders. The other still pins Sonhu against the altar, and Sonhu struggles against him. Sonhu's footing slips, and he stumbles, but the crusaeder only continues to restrain his arms against his back and push his chest to the altar. The priest grabs Sonhu's head and presses it on the slab once again.
The crusaeder lifted the blade up above his head and, in one swift motion, brought it down against Sonhu's neck. It was a horrible sound. The way it cracked as the blade struck the vertebrae in his neck. The pain was delayed, but as it seeped in, the pain was unbearable. Like a fire, it burned. The crusaeder brought the blade up and slammed it down, again and again. Hacking away at his neck. He choked and coughed. Tears of agony swell in his eyes. He could no longer scream. The muscles in his jaw slowed and became impossible to move.
The color in his vision was the first to go. The world is so dull now that it begins to fade into blackness. There was no light. No flashing of his life before his eyes. Just the slow dulling of the pain and numbing of his thoughts as he faded away. A moment that stretches longer and longer. Sonhu thought back to his life. Was that it? He asks himself. He tried to recall the memories, but they were distant, and images could no longer form in his mind. Feeling left him. Darkness. His thoughts are all that is left. Slow. Fading… How much longer… will they stay… Then, in the darkness, something seeps in. A purple fog rises through unseen cracks in the darkness. His mind is no longer numb. Clarity. Pain, fog, worry, and stress all faded away, and now Sonhu felt like he was floating through the void. A voice reverberated through his mind, an echo. The voice was feminine and smooth, like honey. It rolled across his brain with a mother's coo.
"Poor little kitty."