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Lucius reined his horse to a stop in front of Marquin's shrine. The soldiers who surrounded him constantly as his bodyguards also halted, glancing to Lucius for orders. "Dismount and attend me," Lucius ordered, swinging down from his horse.

For over a week, Lucius had been trying to figure out what had happened to Diana Numa, Decius' daughter. Her body had not been among the slain at Vican's villa, and although his soldiers had searched the surrounding countryside thoroughly, they had found no sign of the girl, either dead or sheltered by the locals. And Lucius doubted his brother would have accepted his daughter back into Fure, knowing that she was wanted dead and rightfully so. Even if Decius did seek to disregard Lucius' mandate, he was smart enough to know she wasn't safe there.

There was only one place his soldiers hadn't searched, and that was due to their regard for religious convention.

Lucius, however, knew such pretenses were worthless. The gods were dead, if they had ever existed in the first place.

Striding up the steps of the temple, he paused outside and glanced at his men. "You will accompany me inside and obey whatever command I direct to you," he ordered. "Or it will be your head."

He noticed one soldier glancing into the entrance with a look of trepidation on his face, but the man said nothing, so Lucius marched inside.

The Forelooker, a young woman with pale skin and a dark coil of hair, braided and loosely pinned up, sat on the temple floor, surrounded by candles that flickered. A snake was coiled on her lap, staring at Lucius with its slit eyes, its tongue flickering.

"Lucius Sipio, king of Fure, brother to Decius Numas," the Forelooker said, without opening her eyes. "What brings you to the shrine of Marquin?"

"I do not come to seek the wisdom of your scrolls," Lucius spat.

The woman opened her eyes, looking up at him. As she did so, Lucius saw the dark veins in her neck, the telltale sign of Ascantal heritage. "I know, Lucius Sipio. You still come here to ask a question."

"You are Ascantal," Lucius accused.

The Forelooker tilted her head. "That is not a question. I am only the Forelooker."

Lucius drew his sword, causing several of his soldiers to draw in a quick breath. According to weak tradition, weapons were not to be drawn in so-called sacred places. "Forelooker, your gods are dead. Perhaps you should join them."

The Forelooker lifted an eyebrow at him. "Marquin wrote about you. The eagle heir, achieves the throne against all odds, ends a terror. But yet, I see you have become that very terror, despite the stars' writing. Pity. You could have been great."

"I don't believe in prophecies," Lucius seethed. "Understand that, woman. They are only rubbish, and deserve to burn, so you may not mislead this people anymore. And I do not need to fulfill a prophecy to be great. Now, answer me this, or I will kill you. Did someone leave an Ascantal girl with you?"

The Forelooker looked at him, her expression impassive. "Those who enter this temple to stay are not human or Ascantal, Furian or barbarian. They belong only to Marquin."

"Yes or no," Lucius fumed, pointing the tip of his blade at the Forelooker's throat.

The Forelooker didn't answer. "I advise you, Lucius Sipio, to leave now, before Marquin becomes angry."

"Hell to Marquin," Lucius said, lifting his sword to strike.

One of his soldiers darted in front of the Forelooker, who hadn't moved or even flinched. "No! I won't let you kill her!"

Lucius (ONC 2021)Where stories live. Discover now