“Come. There is much we must discuss.” Bastion watched the elderly man walk to a door on the side of the room and hold it open, waiting for Bastion to follow. Bastion eyed the man suspiciously, suddenly feeling very cold despite the sweat on his brow. Sure, he had spoken with priests before, and they had always made him slightly uncomfortable. However, the priests back in Rosendall were a lot more humbled about their powers, never using their gifts of insight and knowledge so blatantly.

“That’s because most of your so-called priests are frauds, and the others just scammers! How do you think they pay for their synagogues and fine wines? They predict and tell only for those willing to pay, and only what they are willing to pay for. Scoundrels, the lot of ‘em! But they’ll get theirs, oh yes! Your priests-” The old man spat on the word, the saliva getting absorbed quickly by the warm, dry dirt. “Will pay along with the rest of that wicked place. But in time. Yes, in due time.” The priest rambled, not seeming to see Bastion any longer, his pale eyes glazing over, focusing on a scene Bastion could not see.

Bastion stared incredulously at the man, thinking about the beautiful stone city he was from, unable to see how such a perfect, well planned and taken care of place, filled with the most regal and diplomatic people in the Southern Hemisphere could be conceived as wicked. But then he thought of his precious Alex, with honey gold skin and a voice to match. What they did to his Alex...

“And that is why, young Bastion, you were sent away before the destruction came!” The priest babbled on, but Bastion still had the image of Alex in his mind. It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did Bastion gave a disbelieving ‘ha!’ What does this guy know about why he got sent away? The destruction has already occurred…