Seist was none too pleased about being followed. There were several of them and they moved in a pattern that led Seist to believe they had experience in working as a group. Professionals. Dangerous. The priest let his hands slip to his weapons under his cloak. However, even as he readied himself mentally for combat, he realized it wouldn't come. The woman that had been tailing him closely was approaching, openly, with her hands in sight and no weapons visible. Seist slowed and turned and when her features came into the light he took a step back in shock.
There were scars under her eyes, thin lines that mirrored his own.
“Priestess,” he whispered, his brow furrowed in consternation, “Truly?”
“I heard there was another follower in the city,” she said with a smile.
“That's... wonderful.” His mind whirled. What were the odds? Pretty slim. There weren't many priests of Dues and Frain. “Tell me though, who was it who gave you your scars?”
Her smile flickered briefly.
“A priest in the north,” she replied.
Seist's sword slipped free and he held it even before him, the tip hovering just under the woman's chin. He watched her muscles and eyes go tight and then she relaxed, letting out a slow and even breath, but her eyes remained granite, fixed on his.
“We scar our own eyes,” he said tightly, “Drop the illusion. You can only anger me further now by mocking my gods. What do you want?”
She complied and the magic faded, leaving her cheeks unblemished. “We just have questions,” she pouted, “There's weapons trained on you even now, priest, ones you won't know how to deflect, far deadlier than a simple crossbow quarrel. Won't you speak with us?”
“I'll let you walk away alive,” Seist responded, “I think that's fair enough.”
“But don't you want to talk to someone?” she whispered, “We've touched your dreams and seen your nightmares – they're not figments, are they? They're memories. So many terrible things... don't you hate carrying all that?”
The sword tip trembled.
“Serendipity cares nothing for the things you've done in your homeland. Come walk and speak with me. Your answers will go no further than my masters.” She smiled thinly. “Consider it a confession you never got in life, if your religion indeed does that.”
And Seist reluctantly let the sword tip drop. There was... something tempting in her offer. And he was surrounded.
“Do I have much choice?” he asked sadly. She mutely shook her head. “Fine. Than let's find a quiet place that serves drinks – you buy.”
She wouldn't tell him who her masters were, but she did explain that they were merely trying to find more information about outsiders and hinted that it could be profitable for him. Some of her party had entered the tavern and were loitering inconspicuously. There was a pall of magic over the air and Seist kept his own mental defenses up and strong.
“I'm scared of dragons,” Seist replied with a roll of his eyes, “Yes, I know the ones around here aren't so bad, but in my homeland they enslave people. Not just physical slavery – they literally bind the person's will so that their mind is laid bare. It's not so bad with some dragons... but others... can you imagine having your very thoughts easy pickings for a creature that hates your race? That's the threat we all live under and I find the thought of losing my freedom like that terrifying. Worse than death, even. Death I've resigned myself to.”
“I can imagine so,” she remarked with a wry grin, “Then what is your greatest regret?”
Seist grimaced. “I have not told anyone this. I pray to my gods that you're speaking the truth in that my past deeds won't be held against me here. I murdered my tutor. He was like any mage... brash, arrogant, talented. I caught him looking into a maid's mind one day – he suspected she'd been stealing from him and decided to just rifle through her thoughts to find out. She was fine. Didn't even really realize what had happened. But such a thing is forbidden by the twins and when I confronted him he laughed. Even then, at thirteen years, I had already been marked...” Seist trailed off for a moment, musing, and then shook himself. “Anyway, I murdered him. It was not a pleasant death, either. I went to his house one night and set it afire. I ensured that the blaze would trap him inside and then I fed it with my magic so that he couldn't quell it. He died in agony. That I regret. I didn't even have the grace to kill him in a merciful way. I swore I'd never do such a thing ever again.”
“We don't care about your past crimes,” she said, “We only care what they've made you. Your secret is safe. What is the one thing you wanted to accomplish before you died?”
“I was set to a task before I died. A dragon – don't look so surprised, there are ones that don't pose a threat – asked me to look into the doings of a Baroness in the Borderlands. She feared that the Baroness was trying to seek a magic that has been denied humankind, possibly to use against the dragon race and finish the job that tore away their wings so long ago. An abomination against the twin deities, in other words. I was traveling north to her lands and detoured to hunt down a mage that had been harming people. I regret not killing him and I regret not finding what the Baroness plans. Both can cause great harm to my world and both dragons and humans.”
“Just what are you – a priest?”
“Not just a priest. There's not many of us of Dues and Frain – that's how I thought you were a fake – and few take the vows I've taken, so I suppose that makes me a high priest of sorts. We don't have much of a structure,” he confessed, “But I'm also a noble – Margrave, to be exact. Got a goodly amount of land near the border of Shavelle and Kas Kain, close to a city that's contested every now and then. So I have to keep my militia ready in case war breaks out again. I have a steward that manages the daily affairs and I try to return home often enough to hear the problems that only I can deal with.”
“How do you reconcile all this – what are your morals?”
Seist's lips thinned in displeasure. “It's difficult. I only kill when I have to – you saw my dreams, yes? All those things you saw are what other mages have done with their magic. Not everything is illegal, you see, and so in the law's eyes I am a criminal – a murderer. But in the eyes of my gods I am upholding their will for how those of us that use magic should govern ourselves. Still, sometimes I wonder if I'm making a bad call here, if I'm flat-wrong and I am not the executor of my god's wishes, that I'm merely deluded instead of divine... so many doubts. So I do not draw my sword unless I have exhausted all other options for a peaceful resolution. But when I do – I leave no evidence and no survivors. I tell myself that even if I'm wrong... at least I meant well... it's cold comfort.”
“You'll find no solace from me,” she said “I'm not one to make moral judgments. But what's your greatest triumph?”
“I'd rather not say,” he said, “I fear that if I start thinking of what I've done as victories than I'd lose some of my humanity. Does a farmer rejoice in slaughtering sick cattle?”
“Fair enough. Then how do you see yourself? You call yourself priest, Margrave, and murderer. Is that all?”
“Yes,” Seist said quietly, firmly, “That's all I see. I have my duty to king and gods. I have no illusions that what I do is against Lahmear's laws, but I do not believe I am wrong.”
“You don't live for yourself, do you?” she asked gently. This conversation was drawing to a close he could sense and he wished to be gone quickly and then forget this had taken place. His secrets were no longer his and he was glad for it. For years he had longed for the security to tell someone... funny that he'd stumble across it like this.
“Not at all,” he replied, “I'm a priest. That's how we are.”
And she did not stop him as he walked away.
Why does randomly changing my avatar spawn a new character? I don't need another one! 
