Getting a good night’s sleep in Alarna wasn’t always a simple task. Even if you felt safe, alarms could wake you at any time, the guards’ chainmails rattling as they ran through the streets could easily keep you up, and following that, you would lie in your bed, waiting for the redemptive sound of the bells, notifying you that the situation was resolved and you could finally continue with the task at hand: resting.

Molyn Firela stared at the white ceiling above his bed, counting the seconds until silence would fall over the town once more. In his youth, this routine had always infuriated him, but at the age of thirty-five, he had long gotten used to it.

Nine hundred twenty-four... Nine hundred twenty-five... Nine hundred—

GONG! GONG! GONG!

Molyn breathed a content sigh. There we go, he thought. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Fifteen minutes though. Hm... A weak beast perhaps?

The time between the bells ringing was unusual. Too short for a typical beast attack or a black stone incident, but too long for a mistake. But he shrugged it off. Come morning, he would undoubtedly hear about it either way.

It took him another quarter of an hour until he was able to fall asleep once more. However, just as his mind became hazy and drifted off, a sudden crash reverberated through the temple. Molyn slowly opened his eyes and glanced eastwards, in the direction the noise had come from. It didn’t seem like it was another large emergency, as there were no more alarms going off, but footsteps slowly began rambling through the hallways, going in various directions.

Someone deal with this, please, he thought as he closed his eyes for the third time that night.

It was not his job to check on random events. Whatever happened, it would get reported to the High Priest, and only if it involved matters of finances or personnel would it be Moyln’s duty to involve himself. A ruckus in the middle of the night almost certainly didn’t fit that bill—or so he thought.

“Molyn!” a priest yelled from down the hallway.

Confused about hearing his name, Molyn rubbed his eyes in an attempt to shake off the last traces of sleep and listened to the noises outside. When he heard a frantic knocking on his door, he sat up and called out, “What is it?”

“Molyn! It’s the High Priest, we need you!” came the response from the other side of the door.

A slight frown formed on Molyn’s face. What could’ve happened for them to call him in such a desperate tone? He got up and grabbed his robe, slipping into it on his way to the door. He opened it to find one of the younger priests standing there, panting and sweating. It was the High Priest’s attendant.

“Calm yourself and tell me what’s going on, Galo.”

The young man glanced left and right before leaning in and saying in a hushed voice, “High Priest Orthur was killed!”

Molyn froze momentarily. This came as a surprise. The temple’s leadership rarely experienced unnatural deaths, as their home was the safest place in town.

“Are you certain?”

“There’s a hole in his head!”

That will do it, Molyn thought, nodding.

“I... I don’t know what to do,” Galo said.

His uncertainty was understandable. Traditionally, the High Priest would name a successor long before their eventual demise. In the absence of a named successor, the next step would be to approach the high clergy, but under Orthur, the importance of their roles was not the same anymore. He had been more dictator than leader, and Lilana’s rule, too, relegated them to the sidelines.

“Very well,” Molyn said in a soothing voice. “We will handle this. Is he in his chambers?”

Galo nodded vigorously.

“And the situation is under control?”

“Yes, the guards have come back to and are sending away everyone else.”

“Good. You will now go and inform the other arch priests of Orthur’s death. Tell them to meet me there.”

“Yes, sir!”

Grateful for the instructions, Galo ran off, while Molyn closed the door behind him and calmly made his way to the High Priest’s bedroom on the other side of the temple’s third floor. He passed several priests on the way, who whispered among themselves as they made room for him. They wondered what happened, but nobody dared to ask him for details.

The guards in front of Orthur’s room saluted Molyn at his approach and opened the door. One of them followed him inside, providing what little information they had. Standing over the High Priest’s dead body, the guard surmised, “I’m not a devoted believer, but this was divine intervention. High Priest Orthur’s actions these past two days were...” He paused, searching for the right words. “Excuse my rudeness, but he was out of his mind.”

Molyn looked at him with a neutral expression. “His actions? What might those have been?”

“I don’t know the details, but several priests have lost their lives during experiments involving Oryn Tilia.”

“I see,” Molyn mused. “And this figure you saw appeared to be a god?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what I saw. Or whether I even saw it at all. It all happened so fast.”

Surveying the room, Molyn thought about alternative explanations, but he could see the logic in the argument. Something had put a hole in Orthur’s head and the structure above it. It was unprecedented, but divine intervention was a perfectly viable explanation.

The guard’s gaze followed Molyn leisurely walking around the room, investigating. “Sir... Should we inform the authorities?” he asked.

“In time,” Molyn responded. “This will be all for now. Before you return to your post though, please bring Oryn to me.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mr. Firela. He disappeared last night and we have yet to locate him.”

“Is that so? Hm. Very well, dismissed.”

The guard saluted him and returned to the hallway. He was just in time to show six other men and women inside, clad in the same robes with elaborate embroidery as Molyn.

The moment the door closed, their youngest member, Eilua, let out an impressed whistle. “Whew. He really bit the dust, huh?”

“Evidently,” the man next to her said. Halran continued, “But what happened here?”

Molyn stepped up to the end of the bed as the others stared at Orthur in fascination. “Those who have seen him believe that it was the work of the gods. It appears that he and Oryn sacrificed a few priests—most likely in an attempt to create another divine messenger. Either the gods stopped him, or...” His pause suggested that he didn’t believe this theory.

His wife, Laena, tried to peek into Orthur’s skull with one eye closed before she gave Molyn a peculiar glance. “Holes in people are new, but you think it was the boy?”

Orthur had been careful not to reveal too much information about the research into the beings called divine messengers, but the arch priests had done their best to stay informed.

“Possibly,” Molyn said. “The guards say it began raining inside the hallway, followed by a white figure appearing, who emanated an aura similar to Aelene. That’s all they remember before losing consciousness. I wouldn’t want to presume the gods’ intentions, but why would they come through the hallway? Not to mention that this is far beneath them.”

“It is possible they changed their stance on meddling with human affairs,” Harlan said. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

On the other side of the bed, Morwen crossed his arms and looked at Harlan in contemplation. “Perhaps, but the sacred texts clearly state that they never wanted to interfere again. Surely they wouldn’t go back on their word.”

Interpreting the gods’ words and intentions must have been easier to interpret once upon a time, when they still talked to humans on a regular basis. Now, all the priests had were guesses.

“What about these experiments? Is there any evidence for them occurring?” Morwen asked.

“It seems that Oryn has fled the temple,” Molyn said. The others looked back at him knowingly. “Regardless, Orthur has failed to uphold his position. For the time being, I propose that we keep up the status quo. It is the temple’s duty to guide the people of this world, and to protect them in the gods’ stead. This duty now falls on us.”

“Don’t we need a new High Priest though?” Eilua perked up.

“Show some respect, young lady,” Morwen admonished. “He might have had his faults, but he led a valiant effort in bringing the citizens back into the fold. This is not the time nor the place.”

“Eh? Respect? Laena was just digging around his brain!”

“Scientific curiosity is not disrespectful,” Laena said coldly. “And I won’t see him again after tonight. When else would I take a look?”

“Both of you should hold back,” Morwen bellowed. “He was the High Priest!”

“You might as well admit that you made a mistake,” an older priestess croaked in amusement. “Casting your vote for him after our last leader was found dead might not have been the best choice.”

“You did as well, Edhel,” he said, glowering at her.

“Unlike you, I fully admit to that mistake though. He wasn’t the right choice. Recent events have made that more than clear. He was too hot headed for his own good, and age did not do him any favors. I do believe that we should get this over with. The temple needs a leader.”

“In that case...” Halran’s gaze swerved towards the end of the bed, and one by one the others followed suit.

Back when Orthur came to power, there had been a second candidate. He was a promising young man, but given his young age and fresh assignment as an arch priest, some believed him to be too inexperienced. Fourteen years later, however, half of their members had changed, and all of them now saw him as their leader, after the High Priest.

“You want me?” Molyn asked.

“Is that not the sensible choice?” Edhel chuckled. “Shall we hold an impromptu vote?”

Morwen looked between them in exasperation. “Take note of my disapproval, even if it’s pointless.”

“Noted. One abstainer.” Edhel raised her hand into the air and three more followed immediately.

With this they had a majority, given their current numbers. The temple was to be led by eight priests, mirroring the gods, but even with one more vote, it was unlikely the result would change.

“Guess it’s pointless to vote for myself then? Alright,” Eilua said with a brash grin and raised her hand as well.

“Six votes in your favor,” Edhel proclaimed proudly. “And so I ask you, Molyn Firela, do you accept?”

Molyn took in the eyes of his colleagues trained on him. Everyone but Morwen looked at him full of confidence, certain that he was the right person for the job. It was the outcome he had secretly expected.

“It would be my honor to serve the gods in this position. Thank you for your trust. I suppose dealing with this is now my official duty then,” he said, prompting the others to consider their leave.

“Correct, and don’t mess it up,” Morwen said. He was the first to go, stomping out of the room.

The remaining arch priests acted with more decor, but they, too, made ready to go back to bed. It was still the middle of the night, and it was common sense to focus on your own responsibilities. His job was to take care of the former High Priest, while they were expected to be on top of their game come morning.

“We will take our leave as well then,” Edhel said, as everyone streamed past Molyn. “Make me proud boy.”

Molyn merely nodded and watched them leave the room. The only one who remained after everything was said and done were Laena and her husband.

“As expected,” she said.

“Of course,” he responded. “I didn’t make friends with them for fun over the last fourteen years.”

“Mhm. It did take longer than I thought.”

“Indeed. I didn’t think he would make it to the age of fifty-six. Even mutiny he got through. It took murder for him to vacate his chair.”

“That’s not what we’re going to tell people though...” Laena said questioningly.

“No, I think not. I don’t condone Mr. Remor’s actions—assuming it was him—but what is done is done, and the picture he painted works out well for everybody involved. Really, who is to say that this isn’t what happened?”

“That’s right,” Laena agreed. “Well then, High Priest Molyn, what is your first order of business going to be?”

“We should look into those experiments. Orthur’s approach might have been questionable, but he had the right idea. The power these kids hold will shape the future, and we can’t let them lead the people astray. It is truly unfortunate that he lost his divine messenger, our daughter, and his scripture sigil researcher. Maybe we can still retrieve Oryn at least. Please look into all that while I deal with our dear former High Priest here.”

“Will do. Speaking of Lilana though, what are your thoughts on a second child? It would be nice to keep your new position in the family. It’d be a tragedy for it to eventually fall into the hands of another Orthur Syfar. Time would be of the essence though.”

“You’re right, an heir would be a comforting thought. Let’s discuss this tomorrow.”

The two shared a satisfied nod and parted ways, one headed for the High Priest’s office, while the other looked down at their predecessor again.

Molyn had once admired Orthur’s open determination, but as he grew older, he understood that it also caused a myriad of problems. He would be more careful in his dealings with opposing powers, and he was convinced that he’d be able to succeed where Orthur had failed. Humans would soon have a renewed understanding of the gods’ glory. They would see and respect their gifts appropriately—or they would not be worthy to walk this realm.