“You killed him!” cried the crowd. From a nearby alley, Beastmaster Mikal McKay watched the riot unfold.
“Please, brothers,” yelled a Priestess over the rabble, “Please, return to your homes. We are investigating the High Priest’s death at this very moment.”
The crowd had been gathering for hours around the Asyran Temple. Inside the temple, on a stone slab, laid High Priest Fathion’s body. A murdered High Priest in Westlock, thought Mikal. This will be good for no one. His followers will fight for the truth, the priestesses will fight to regain order… the Royal Archers and Knights of Westlock will squash this rebellion, and Victoria will lay in ruins.
“Don’t listen to her,” yelled a man in brown robes. “The Asyrans hate those of us who follow Malakai!”
“Malakai is a favored angel of Asyra,” the Priestess tried to explain. “We consider you as brothers and sisters – please understand—“ a small stone struck the Priestess across the forehead. She winced, and placed a healing hand on her wound.
She just wants to keep the peace, thought Mikal. The Asyrans are haughty and judgmental, but they are innocent here. The Beastmaster squawked at a low flying crow – the crow spun around and landed on his shoulder.
“Bring me wolves,” said Mikal. The bird flew away and Mikal stepped out of the shadows. He whispered a spell and felt his strength surge. He cut through the crowd and made his way up to the Priestess.
“Return to your homes,” yelled Mikal. “You will have your answers soon enough.”
“They kill our leaders then try to silence us,” yelled a woman in the crowd. She picked up another stone and threw it at the Beastmaster.
“Enough talk,” yelled another man, “Let us take back our leader’s body!”
The crowd roused and surrounded the two mages. Mikal turned to the Priestess.
“You look above for help,” he said. “But my help is right here in this world.” He blew a sharp whistle, and heard a growl in response. The wolves had arrived.