Reverence Counter: Mekalis

Xaedion stood, making an effort to be silent, without even the sound of friction against his robe. He glanced around. No one had noticed. Dozens of friars in brown robes kneeling with their heads to the floor, praying, and out of all of them, he was the sole pretender.

Xaedion continued to discreetly vacate the church, and once outside he released a sigh of relief, thankful for an excuse to remove himself from holy ground. Now speaking freely would be easier.

"Xaedion, it is time for my children to put Rhivai to the torch."

"What does this mean for me?" Xaedion asked.

"Martyrdom," came the reply, in a very matter-of-fact tone. "You are to spark the war between the nations."

"But Rhivai barely has an army. Against Kalloch, it wouldn't last long."

"Imbecile. Unite Rhivai and Kalloch against Poltuun. That will begin my planned chain of events."

"Your intentions?" Xaedion inquired, with genuine interest.

"You know them," the thought-voice snapped, but Xaedion knew she couldn't resist an opportunity to monologue about her own brilliance. "This land, blemished with some of the world's most devout God-worshippers, must die. My carefully endowed brood will ensure that it does. As all will soon know, with my efforts, this island will become God-forsaken."