Betlinde heard the temple's chime. The sound indicated only one thing in the Temple of Kastori. The Temple of the Goddess of harlots and fertility has a new arrival.

Betlinde had lived at the temple for a few years. When she was rescued from slavery by the king's army, the king's advisor had sent her to the temple of Kastori.

Betlinde and other women rescued from the slavers had all been sent here until they could find suitable husbands or a means of support. She thought it interesting that most of those rescued had found husbands or became nannies, not harlots. She had thought about going home to her villages, but one didn't just go home in the mountain regions where she was from. Those villages were raised or burned out by the brigands that had sold the inhabitants into slavery.

Betlinde had decided she liked helping at the temple because of the arrivals. It was very early in the morning now, and none of the other sisters were awake yet. Betlinde wanted to watch the sunrise, and she usually took the first shift watching the children if any were fussy. But that chime meant that they had a new arrival.

She walked slowly out to the front entrance of Kastori's temple, which was situated in a small walled city away from the main roads of the kingdom. The heavy wooden door opened with a creaking of its hinges bearing the weight of the wood. She always took her time to do this because many of the women that worked the brothels in the bigger cities didn't want to be seen. The sisters of the temple of Kastori didn't judge. They only cared for the children that were left or the women if they were injured. Some would come here to give birth, but most couldn't make the journey in such a condition, so the baby was brought after.

She looked out over the small town. It had a ten-foot-high stonework wall and a few guards being paid by the king and the temple to keep the community safe. The city's whole purpose was to support this temple and the small patrols that frequented the area around the mountains. This was the king's way of helping those in need while not angering the nobles who demanded the brothels stay open. The king's father had tried to close them long ago, and they had just sprung up again worse than before. The king even managed to find a way to leverage the labor of the children he helped along the way.

Betlinde walked out to the box she knew would contain a child in front of the temple. There was a small chain here that the person dropping the infant off would ring to get the sisters' attention inside the temple. She didn't look around because she knew if the woman or man was still here watching, they didn't want to be known. If they had, they would have stood there to discuss the baby.

She walked to the wooden boxes. The lids on the boxes were solid, but the side had ample large holes to allow air in and out of the makeshift crib. She opened the one she heard the infant in. As always, the infant was wrapped in a blanket, and next to it was any offering the deliverer would leave to help care for the child.

Betlinde stopped and stared for a few moments. This child did not have the worn and stained blankets she was expecting. Instead, it was wrapped in clean white linen with silver embroidery along its edge. Next to it sat a fist-sized leather pouch bulging at the seams. She wondered what noblewoman would want to leave their child? They always had the means to care for them.

Betlinde sighed, picking up the heavy pouch and putting it in her robes. She took the swaddled child up in one arm as she pulled back the top to reveal blonde wavy hair and a pale child with grey eyes staring up at her. It was rare to get a northern child here, which made her more curious. She hummed to the child as she took it back into the temple to wake a wet nurse. Then she would have the child blessed by Sister Rachael, the temple healer.

***

Betlinde was getting frustrated. She had been caring for Thaddius for over a year now. The small child was starting to walk, and she had yet to find a single farmer that would adopt him. They always complained that his pale skin would make it impossible for the child to work in the hot sun. The fact that Thaddius always caterwauled every time a farm family would show up didn't help matters. Sister Rachael said the child could sense people's intentions or emotions. Already he was showing signs of magic. No farmers wanted magic children. It was like getting a wild dog. You never knew when it was going to turn on you.

The person who had dropped the child off had left enough money to pay for Thaddius's upbringing. The temple of Kastori only housed women and infants. It was not their duty to keep older children, and she was not going to offer someone the money; they would probably abandon the boy as soon as they were out of sight. She sat there and pondered, wondering why the goddess hadn't found the young boy a home.

Betlinde had seen the goddess once when she first came to the temple. The goddess had spoken to her, asking if she wanted to join her faith. Betlinde had agreed, and then the goddess placed her hand on Betlinde's hair. She smiled and then disappeared right in front of her. Betlinde often prayed to her goddess Kastori asking her to help the children. Each time she had done this, the child had been adopted, or if the child was sick, they became better by morning. But for some reason, Thaddius was not getting adopted. She had prayed over the child dozens of times. She frowned as she stood to pick up the young boy who had decided to go wandering down a hallway out of her line of sight.

She found the child sitting playing with an old iron coin that the sisters had fashioned into an amulet of sorts by putting a cord through the square hole in the center. The note in the crib had asked them to give it to the child named Thaddius when he was of age. The sisters kept it around his neck with a thin cord.

The grey metal coin, which looked like an amulet on such a small child, had the image of a man on it. On the other side, it had an old text. Betlinde didn't know how to read, but Sister Rachael read it. "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood but the void." Sister Rachael said it sounded like an old war motto. But nobody they knew recognized it.

***

City Walls

The half-orc Shagrol didn't like it. The cultists wanted him to assault the walls of a city that had a god protecting it. He had a dozen ogres in his ranks, and this band could overrun any normal city this size. But he didn't make it this far as a leader without knowing the dangers of attacking a city with a god watching over it. The cultists, though, had paid in gold and slaves. Piles of gold. More gold than Shagrol had ever seen in one place. So here he was about to send his main force against low fortifications of some city in the middle of nowhere in the southern lands. The cultists had guided Shagrol and his troupe of two hundred for many days, shielding them from prying eyes. They had not allowed any plundering of the many villages and cities they passed. Most had no serious defenses, easy pickings if they had wanted it. Moving two hundred orcs and ogres this far without being detected was no small feat.

Shagrol turned and spoke to the dark priest standing there gazing at the city in his dark robes, "My warriors are in position. We await your command Jagjit."

Jagjit was ready. His patron devil Ug'thith had ordered him to use this artifact. Ug'thith had granted Jagjit much power recently and had promised him the artifact would take care of the goddess. The devil wanted the child. He wanted to raise the child to become his right hand, and Jagjit relished the chance of having such a powerful warrior at his side. He already had plans on how he would train the child from a young age into the cult using powerful magics and rituals. He would pay the best warriors to train the child in the arts of war. If what Ug'thith said was true, then Jagjit was about to become a king and from there an emperor. These thoughts encouraged Jagjit as he took the dark orb from the black box.

Jagjit spoke with a gravelly voice, "Begin your assault. "

Shagrol nodded, took a ram's horn from his belt, and blew two short notes. In the darkness, he could see the ogres moving forward now with the fighters of his tribe right behind. He could hear their war cries. The ogres ignored the main gate as they charged the wall. With their size and strength, the wall will be broken and fall without the worry of an armed contingent on the other side. There were few sentries on the wall as Shagrol heard answering bells and horns in the city, sending an alarm.

The ogres smashed into the wall and started pulling at it with their huge hands. Chunks broke off the masonry, and within seconds a large section came crashing down between two of them. With minimum effort, as they had surmised, they were climbing over the rubble within minutes and entering the city. "I should go down there," said Shagrol with blood lust in his eyes.

The dark priest replied, "Patients orc, the show is jus-. "

Jagjit stopped speaking when the air above the wall grew bright. The goddess Kastori appeared, wielding a flaming sword and casting bolts of lighting into the group of ogres climbing through the breach.

Jagjit spoke, "It is time." He waved his hand over the deep black sphere as the darkness inside it started to roll as thin wisps of grey. The area around the priest darkened, and the city's ambient mana flooded into the sphere. The chieftain backed away slowly, uncertain if this crazed priest was releasing their doom.

"I call you forth devourer of the void. Your table is set. Come take your prize." then Jagjit threw the ball harder than his small frame could possibly accomplish. Magic propelled the ball towards the battle on the wall as it expanded into a giant creature of the darkest night. Only eyes could be seen in the darkness as it sped towards the goddess defending the wall, bright green necrotic eyes. She looked up just as the shadow creature crashed into her. She slashed at the creature several times with the flaming sword to no effect; the lightning evaporated when it entered the dark form of the void creature. She screamed in pain and fury as the darkness engulfed her in the void that was its body.

Shagrol heard the goddess scream, the small city shook. Her screams sounded as if they were fading in the distance as they echoed through the small valley. The void devourer and the goddess were gone almost as quickly as they arrived.

Jagjit started walking towards the city. Shagrol ran ahead as the sight and smell of blood drew him to slaughter.

***

Hide

Betlinde had tried to get into the dormitory, but Sister Rachael had used her magic to seal the heavy doors.

She heard the raiders banging on the front of the temple. She needed to get out. She knew if she was caught, it was slavery or worse as these raiders were not human.

Betlinde looked around and remembered the opening in the fountain of the goddess. She had discovered it at the base of the statue under the water's edge when bathing the children. The fountain ran from a stream out into the culvert. She had used it often to bathe infants and toddlers. She knew the statue was partially hollow.

She ran quickly to the main chapel chamber. She jumped in the fountain and submerged as she heard doors crashing down the corridor. The water was two feet deep here. She came up inside in a dark space. She prayed to her goddess to save her. She had seen the goddess engulfed and disappear into the dark of the vile creature from the window of the temple. She prayed harder than she ever had. Inside the statue, with the water blocking the noise, she could hear nothing outside. She saw lights flickering as she sat on a small ledge inside, and then there was a splash, and the water started to turn dark red. She stifled a cry, not wanting to expose herself. She was used to seeing the abuse of others, all slaves were. Her eyes watered. A look of terror was on her face while she held her breath, trying not to scream.

***

The Occult

Jagjit had succeeded. The child had been captured, and the city people had been slaughtered to the last man. He didn't want to leave any witnesses. His patron Ug'thith had rewarded him handsomely. His power had increased twofold, and even now, he was using the gold to create other temples in Ug'thith's name across the world. This meant more money and power for him in the months since he had moved up in society as well. Several of the local rulers had paid him gold to keep him placated and not interfere with their petty kingdoms. He wanted more, though. He always wanted more.

Now he needed to make sure the child was properly trained. The boy Thaddius was a toddler, but Jagjit could feel the child's power. The child uses it even now to sense the thoughts and intentions of others. A very powerful child indeed.

Tonight, Jagjit would perform a ritual that would permanently make the child a member of the occult. The child would participate, and Jagjit had created a special dagger for his small hand to plunge into the sacrifice. If all went as Ug'thith said, the child would forever be bonded to the devil.

Jagjit watched the child playing games with the temple priestess in the temple courtyard. He saw the light shine on the dull gray coin the child wore. Jagjit had enchanted the item as Ug'thith had instructed to block out the child's curse while he wore it. He had also added a tracking spell and compulsion to keep the child from ever releasing it and to always want to wear it.

The child could not sense what Jagjit was thinking. If he could, Jagjit was certain the child would flee in horror. Nobody in the temple had the power to rival Jagjit, and they could not understand his intentions. Once he had been human, and others had spit on him. But now he was something else, and none could compete, for he was a King here in his domain, an all-powerful priest King.

***