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Tales Of Morveria: The Restless Priestess

A Sabaarii's Search for Happiness and Meaning Awakens the Darkness of Her Past.

By Mantrid Brizon

Part Five: Escape

Bolting upright in bed, Nailah pants and gasps for air. She wipes the sweat from her brow as she calms herself. The nightmares persist and have somehow managed to become worse. Thankfully, Clava has remained silent for a full day; tomorrow night will be the twin moons. Why, then, does she continue to have these horrid nightmares? As she sits up in bed and ponders, she realizes something profound. The greater her anxiety, the more detailed and terrifying her nightmares become. Why is she so afraid? Brevin loves her. He will surely protect her and provide for her! After all, he wishes to marry her... Doesn't he?

The faintest uncertainty makes Nailah tremble even more than her bad dream, and for the rest of the night she can only lie awake in bed. She stares at the ceiling, her mind racing and reeling. All of the wonderful and horrid possibilities flash before her eyes. When dawn finally arrives, she carries out her duties as she always had. Though the events of the day before last were quite scandalous, the young ladies of the temple haven't gossiped. That's likely because they all know that Nailah could easily hear them. Still, she's thankful for their discretion.

Unsurprisingly, Tavisha continues to keep a close eye on her throughout the day. She arrives to the temple from the home she shares with her husband and watches Nailah as she begins to awaken the young ladies. Her shadow looms around every corner, but when darkness falls and she finally retreats to her husband, the Sabaarii is once again left all alone. Fear takes hold as she prepares herself. Clava has kept the secret, and it's nearly time for her to leave. Gazing out of her bedroom window, she looks toward the moons.

They're full, bright, and as beautiful as they ever were. The largest moon is near the center of the sky, while the smaller moon follows behind. It's nearly time. Nailah's hands tremble as she pulls on her clothes. The women and ladies of the temple rarely leave, and so there are few satchels or packs for her to use; Nailah cannot take more than she can carry in her hands. Thankfully, she has no possessions that mean anything to her, with the exception of one. A little wooden box contains her brush set, which she uses for painting henna. It was a gift from Gianna.

She fashions a cradle of torn cloth and ties it around her waist, stuffing more cloth inside of the box to keep the contents still. She throws her winter blanket over her shoulders despite it not yet being fall and hastily pins more torn cloth to it. Should anyone outside of the walls see her, perhaps it'll function as a cloak? A cheap, brass brooch holds the blanket closed. With her stomach churning and her nerves rattled, she sheepishly makes her way toward the window, an ear always listening for the Unfettered. Thankfully, none are patrolling that corridor.

Climbing outside, she hesitates for a moment, gazing at the darkened ground a whole story below. She leaps from the window ledge and lands on her feet, on a patch of grass many feet away from the temple's wall. Her catlike grace surprises her. A sudden rustling catches her attention. Nailah hides herself in shadow as one of the Unfettered makes his way around the temple, brushing past bushes and carrying a lantern which shields a candle's flame. She sees quite well in the darkness, but the human doesn't notice her.

When the coast is clear, her shaky legs move her toward the wall. She's never felt so afraid. She now knows from her previous leap that she could likely scale this wall without a problem. What terrifies her is the unknown. She looks back at the temple where she's spent her entire life; it's been her home as long as she can remember. Her heart aches at the thought of abandoning it.

“Nailah." A voice whispers.

Her fear begins to melt away, replaced with rapturous joy.

“Brevin! You came!" She whispers quite loudly.

“Shh. Of course, my sweetroll. I'll always come for you. You're too delicious."

“Hehe!"

“Climb over, quickly, and I'll take you to my master's house." He urges.

Nailah obeys. Looking up at the structure, she finds herself intimidated by the prospect of scaling such a large wall, despite having seen Brevin do it several times. She again recalls how far she could jump and wonders if her vertical leap matches it. Swallowing the fear, she squats down before vaulting herself into the air. To her shock and awe, she leaps nearly twice her height and nearly lands atop the wall, her upper body slamming against it as her legs dangle over the edge. Brevin had to carefully climb from rock to rock. With a modest pull, her arms bring her up and over the edge, which she rolls over.

“Eee!" She cannot help but cry out as she falls.

Brevin races to catch her but Nailah's body is quite intuitive; her long and tapering tail shifts, redistributing her weight. She manages to land on her hands and feet in a squatting position, completely uninjured. The voices of the Unfettered now ring in her ears. They heard her shriek and begin to search for the source.

“Come, Nailah. We have to go." Brevin whispers, grabbing her by an arm and helping her up.

Hand-in-hand, they move through the darkness, not quite running but not quite walking. Nailah glances over her shoulder and sees the lights of the lanterns illuminating the treetops and the tall shrubbery within the temple's courtyard. She'd hoped her escape would be silent, that no one would know until dawn. Hopefully, they don't find them somewhere in town. As she looks at the wall from the other side, perhaps for only the second time in her entire life, she wonders why more ladies haven't simply jumped over it as she did. Perhaps their fear and their training is all that's required to keep them imprisoned? They're bound, even without shackles.

“Where [are] we go[ing]?" She asks.

“To my master's house. He's a mason and very skilled at his craft. I told him of my plight and he offered his assistance. We will gather supplies, and when we're able, we will leave the town."

“And [then] go where?"

“Wherever you'd like." He smiles as he looks to her.

Though she returns his smile, a part of her is petrified. Does he not have a plan?! Has he not thought this through?! What if they remained in the town and somehow petitioned to have her claimed as his slave? Perhaps that way they would have a home and a future? Like Yralissa, Nailah could enjoy the splendor of womanhood as Brevin's doting wife and the mother of his half-breed children. Despite her growing uncertainties, she remains silent and continues to follow him. What else is she to do?

They come upon a large, brick home, its roof made of curved tiles instead of cheap thatching covered in pitch. The window glass is quite clear and with only the faintest of blue tint, indicative of its high quality. The flickering of lanterns and candles can be seen from within. Brevin takes her to a door and knocks three times in a methodical, one-two pattern. Footsteps approach from the other side, a heavy board is pulled away and the door swings open.

“By Adonai, I cannot believe you did something so stupid." A middle-aged man remarks.

“Hello, Dervich." Brevin replies.

“Well, don't just stand there, boy. Get in here before you're both arrested." Dervich sighs, glancing at Nailah.

They step into the home and Dervich is quick to close and bar the door. Nailah's eyes scan the interior. She notices an older woman sitting near a hearth, stirring the steaming contents of a cauldron. The middle-aged woman turns her attention toward the Sabaarii and her human lover, albeit briefly, then shakes her head, sighs, and returns her focus to the meal.

“No wonder you'd take such a risk. She's very pretty." The woman remarks.

“Hello, Bascilia. I didn't think you'd still be awake." Brevin greets her.

“I was about to have my first sleep, but then I thought I would stay awake and prepare a final meal for you and your lady." She replies.

“Well, if you're going to steal a beast woman from the temple, she might as well be beautiful, eh?" Dervich chuckles and slaps Brevin on the back.

“And buxom..." Bascilia murmurs, briefly glancing at Nailah's chest. “I hope you know what you're doing, Brevin."

“I love her."

“I can see why." Dervich mutters.

Nailah turns to him, only to catch him eying her form. He promptly stops when he notices her glare. She belongs to Brevin, and a voice inside of her demands that she make that perfectly clear.

“It's far more than that. She has a good soul, crafted by Adonai, Himself." Brevin says, before Nailah can so much as growl at Dervich.

“Brevin!" Nailah gushes, her cheeks flushing.

“A good soul may yet have a price, boy... We'll hide you for the night, but if the temple wants her back and you cannot make a deal..." Dervich warns in a stern voice.

“I know. We won't be here long, just until the dawn." Brevin replies.

“I hope so... For your sake." Dervich murmurs, a melancholy in his voice.

“Well, since she's here, she might as well be comfortable. Are you hungry, miss?" Bascilia turns to the beast woman.

“Nailah." She begins, removing her makeshift cloak.

“Yes, we know." Bascilia smirks.

“You're all he ever talks about!" Dervich adds.

“Aww!" Nailah gushes, turning to her mate.

“We're glad to see that you aren't a figment of his imagination." Dervich teases, briefly pulling Brevin into a headlock.

They share a chuckle and then sit down for a late supper. As she sits with Brevin, Dervich and Bascilia, she learns many things. Brevin, like herself, is an orphan. Dervich and Bascilia, unable to have children of their own, brought Brevin into their home when he was a young boy of four-years-old, raising him as their son and giving him an apprenticeship in Dervich's masonry business. Brevin always had a propensity for art, and Dervich enjoys teasing his adopted son for his initially poor work ethic and his “effeminate talent for drawing pretty pictures."

His teasing is just that, and Nailah can see the bond between Dervich and his ward. Bascilia also acts quite protective of Brevin, eying Nailah with suspicion, as if the beast woman wasn't good enough for her adopted son. It'd be insulting if it wasn't so endearing. In that moment, Nailah cannot help but envy Brevin's family. Brevin never allows her to feel left out, as just when she begins to grow jealous, he pulls her into a loving embrace and talks with an arm around her waist, his hand all but fused to her hip.

After waiting for a time, repeatedly checking the windows for any patrols, Bascilia and Dervich decide that they can chance going to bed for their first sleep. Everyone at the temple knows Brevin was Nailah's lover, and if they realize she's missing then this'll be the first place they search, but no one travels at night. With the recent turn or events, many are on edge, and a search party might be mistaken for raiders or burglars. All the lovers can do is wait until dawn, while Dervich and Bascilia must carry on with their lives; Dervich will open his shop in the morning, as always, and Bascilia will perform the morning's chores.

“We have to keep up appearances, right?" He chuckles.

“Of course." Brevin nods.

Dervich rises from his seat while his wife finishes the last of her meal. Instead of leaving the room, Dervich stops by the mantle. He collects a small box from above the fireplace and returns to the dinner table, standing next to Brevin.

“Here you go, son..." Dervich speaks with a warmth that Nailah hadn't heard from him all night. “I got it, and it wasn't easy to come by."

“Thank you, father."

Brevin looks almost overwhelmed as he takes the box, his brow soft and eyes glossy as he opens it. Nailah leans closer, resting her chin atop his shoulder as they peer inside. There's a red leather collar and a golden tag with strange script on it. Being of the beast folk, she can never comprehend the writing of the humans, though she can recognize the shapes of their letters. Picking up the collar and tag, Brevin reveals a folded piece of parchment beneath it. He picks it up and looks it over, then turns to Dervich and gives him a grateful nod. Dervich rests a hand on his shoulder and pats him a few times.

“What [is] this?" Nailah asks.

“A collar, a tag with your name on the front and my information on the back, and forged papers of ownership." Brevin explains.

“What?!" Nailah gasps.

“The collar and tags should prevent most people from questioning us, but the forged papers will allow us to travel. Now, hold still..."

Nailah looks with wide eyes as her mate wraps the collar around her neck and fastens it. He runs a finger beneath the collar and along her throat, ensuring that it isn't too tight. Somehow, feeling the band clinging to her neck soothes her. The badge of ownership links her to Brevin in a tangible way, which is what she's always wanted. To her, it might as well be a marriage tattoo or the rings that many choose to wear.

“There!" Brevin chirps, lovingly caressing her cheek. “How does that feel, my sweetroll?"

“Oh, thank you! Thank you, my mate!" She exclaims, briefly embracing him. “But how [do] you have this?!" She asks, playing with her new tag.

“Our town blacksmith still owed me a favor for tiling his floor last winter. He's a good man; we can trust him. The papers were more difficult. I was able to convince the town clerk to “forget" a few pieces of official parchment and his stamp." Dervich explains.

“How did you manage that?" Brevin asks.

“He mentioned that his roof has some old, worn tiles. I don't often enjoy working for free, but this was for a good cause."

“I'm sorry..." Brevin hangs his head.

“Don't be." Dervich smiles.

After rising from his seat and embracing his adopted father, Bascilia joins them. The family share an embrace while Nailah watches, realizing the extent of their bond. What a great risk they're willing to take for the sake of their son's happiness!

“Good night, Brevin. Try to get some rest." Bascilia says, giving him a kiss on his forehead. “That goes for you too, Nailah." She adds, petting her head.

“We will." Brevin nods.

“And if you must, try not to wail too loudly. We need our sleep." Dervich teases, nudging Nailah with an elbow.

She feels her face flushing as Brevin rubs his brow with embarrassment. This only further amuses Dervich, who laughs all the way to his bed chamber, walking with an arm around his wife's waist. As Brevin cleans the dishes for the last time, Nailah is quick to help him.

“You don't have to." He turns to her.

“I want to help. I [am] your mate." Nailah smiles.

“Alright... Nailah?" He leans closer.

“Yes?"

“I'm sorry if they embarrassed you." He speaks in a hushed voice.

“They [did] not embarrass me. I enjoy[ed] them. I like to see your family."

“They're your family now, too." He replies, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek.

Nailah cannot help herself. She pulls back, turns her head and kisses him properly. With their lips fused together, she feels a growing warmth inside of her. The couple finish cleaning and retire to Brevin's bed chamber. Nailah's eyes eagerly scour his room for any information about her mate. What does he like? What trinkets does he keep? Is there an article of his clothing that she can wear?! Where are his pillows, so that she may sniff them?!?! That's when she sees it, placed carefully in a corner. She stops and stares, her eyes growing wide. Brevin pauses.

“Ooh... Oh, Brevin."

“Ah... About that..." He murmurs, nervously scratching the back of his head.

Dropping to a knee, she gazes upon the portrait of herself, painted in colors nearly identical to her own flesh. She looks so regal, so elegant, her hair wonderfully styled and with a strange, golden flower in her hair. The portrait sits atop an old stool, attached to a board and leaning against the corner. The stool also supports a pair of small table lanterns. Their soft glow ensures that he can look upon her face throughout the night. Beneath the portrait and between the lanterns is the flower in her hair. The massive bulb has been naturally dried, and yet it still radiates a lovely floral scent. Brevin's shrine to her is beyond flattering, causing the fire in her heart to burn even brighter.

“It [is] beautiful!"

“Oh! You really like it?!" He asks with surprise.

“Yes. What [is] this flower?"

“That's an ilium rose. They're not common here."

“Why [did] you paint [the] flower in my hair?"

“Because when I hold you, when I smell you, that's what you smell like."

Lifting her arm, Nailah sniffs herself. She glances at her large breasts and pauses. Nailah pushes off her dress without hesitation, places her hands beneath her plump mounds, lifts them up and smells around them. Brevin feels his body warming and manhood swelling as she jiggles her own bosoms. With a raised eyebrow, she turns to her mate. Rising to her digitigrade, lizard-like feet, her dress continues to fall, crumbling to a heap at her feet and leaving her naked for him to see.

“I [do] not smell like [this] flower."

“You do to me." He replies, stepping closer and gently grabbing her hand. “Perhaps the sexes experience certain things differently?"

“[Is] that why you smell very good?" She asks.

“I smell like a dog." He laughs.

“I think you [are] right." She coos, leaning in to sniff his cheek. “Experiences [are] different between [the] sexes."

She steps closer, into his outstretched arms. Her endowed chest smooshes against his as their arms wrap around the other. She cannot help but sniff her mate, who rests a hand on the small of her back, caressing her so tenderly, so lovingly. The fire in her heart and her loins pressures her, urging her to pounce, to claim his body as he claims her heart. She resists these urges, however, but makes her feelings known. She nuzzles and kisses him, then gives his neck a lick. She knows how this affects him, gleefully tasting his flesh.

Responding to her silent pleas for affection, Brevin who takes the initiative, just as she'd hoped he would. He moves them toward his bed, walking her backward until her legs bump against the edge. She gasps, only for him to push her back. As she sits atop his bed, waiting and watching as he removes his clothing, his eyes scanning her body like a hungry wolf. He cannot help but touch her, reaching out and fondling her chest as he makes his way into bed. It's obvious that he's eager to partake in his beloved, and for the first time, in the safety of his family's home. So is she.

Nothing arouses her more than his dominance. She never feels more feminine than when she submits. That night, for the first time in her life, she mates without any hesitation or fear. Brevin controls her just the way she likes. He chooses the pace and their position, and he never fails to please. So great is their passion that she forgets to muffle herself, though Brevin's pillows and their bestial position aid her. They've rarely mated so carnally, rarely been so animalistic. That night, their passion took a different turn, one which she welcomed.

Kneeling behind her and with his hands on her hips, Brevin used her loins for his pleasure before eventually filling her with his seed, and all she could do was bury her face in his pillows. It was as wonderful a climax as she'd ever had. Is it because she's free from the temple or because she spent much of that time watching their shadows moving over the portrait her mate so lovingly painted and enshrined? Though she becomes limp, she cannot lie down, her mate's endowment reaching deep and keeping her buttocks in the air.

“I love you, Nailah..." He says through labored breaths, lovingly caressing her sides and back, which glisten with her sweat. “I've never loved a woman so much. I truly want you for my bride."

“Truly?"

“Yes."

“Will we have children?" She sheepishly probes.

Softly panting, she turns her head and peers over her shoulder, smiling and batting her eyelashes at her mate whilst giving her butt a little wiggle. It rubs his masculine flesh as it remains within her loins.

“Of course." He chuckles, softly patting her butt.

“I [am] your wife, and now ask [you], my husband... No tea?"

Brevin doesn't hesitate. He leans forward and rests his belly and chest against the underside of her raised tail. It's length, girth and sturdiness easily supports him, the appendage falling limp and hanging over his shoulder like a pet snake. His hands caressing her hips, glide up her sweaty sides and soon cup her ample breasts. He kneads them, playing with her feminine mounds as if to remind her of their purpose.

“No tea." He begins, rubbing his cheek against her tail. “We will allow 'The One' decide when we have children, and how many children we have. I won't prevent it."

“Truly?!" Her sapphire eyes sparkle with joy.

“Yes. If you want to use these to feed our children, why would I prevent it? ... Except to keep them for myself." He teases, playing with her plump breasts.

“Hehe! I [am] certain our babies will be very well-fed." She giggles.

“I love you, my sweetroll, and I will love our children." He speaks with a warmth she wasn't expecting.

Nailah's heart soars, her face aglow with her overwhelming happiness. She simply cannot help herself and pulls away from him. She flops onto her belly and rolls over, quickly slithering beneath him and pulling him by the arms until he's lying atop her. She gazes upon the face of her mate, the male who has brought her so much happiness, and now offers the future of a family. What else can she want from life?!

“I love you, Brevin. I [am] your mate, and I pledge my body, loyalty and spirit to you. I [will] walk with you, forever."

Brevin appears as stunned as he is flattered by her pledge and makes one of his own. The lovers lay with their bellies and chests pressed together, their arms clinging to the other, and their lips and tongues entwined. As they express their passion, it once again swells. It's quite addicting. After a second mating, they're far too tired to move. For whatever's left of the night, they sleep peacefully, and for the first time in a long time, Nailah's nightmares are gone.

The following morning, she awakens to Bascilia in the room, collecting his clothes and packing them into a sack. Nailah sits up, the linens falling away from her body. Bascilia glances back only to avert her eyes. Nailah cocks her head, realizing a moment later that she's just exposed her large breasts to the woman. Human modesty requires conscious thought for the Sabaarii, and she murmurs an apology as she pulls the linens up and over her bosoms.

Hearing their brief dialogue, Brevin begins to stir. He grumbles as he opens his eyes and slowly pushes up. Noticing Bascilia, his face begins to turn cherry red, and though he tries to apologize to her as well, she has far more pressing matters on her mind.

“Never mind that, son..." She begins with a somber tone. “You've overslept. As loud as you two were last night, that's understandable."

“Overslept?! How late is it?!" He asks in a growing panic, scrambling out of bed.

“Dervich has packed supplies for you both, and I've already put together some clothes for you." She continues, turning her attention to Nailah. “They were mine when I was younger and thinner. They may be a little tight around your chest, but they're not the clothes of a lady of The Order."

“I thank you." Nailah respectfully bows her head.

“Here..." She tosses the packed sack of clothes to Brevin. “You don't have much time."

“Oh, no!" Nailah turns to the window, seeing the brightness of the sunlight. “Brevin, they must know I [am] gone!" She shivers with fear.

“Don't dawdle. If you hurry, dress yourselves and leave, you might avoid the patrols and anyone out looking for her."

Brevin and Nailah leap out of bed while Bascilia heads for the kitchen. They don't even have time to wash the remnants of their passion from their bodies before pulling on a fresh set of clothes. Nailah enters the kitchen to find Bascilia and Dervich setting aside a breakfast of dried fruit and cheese, a bag already packed for her. Brevin takes a moment to gather a few more personal possessions, stuffing them into the sack with his clothes in it. By the time he joins the others in the main room, Nailah's already calling his name, clutching to her bag and urging him to make haste.

After a final and somber goodbye, Brevin turns to Nailah and leaves his adopted parents knowing that they might never return. Nailah is elated to finally be leaving with her new mate, but as she turns to him, she sees the sorrow in his eyes. Guilt begins to creep in. Would he be doing this if he hadn't met her? Certainly not! Does she truly have the right to take him away from all that he knows, the family that loves him?

Suddenly, a powerful and startling series of thoughts enters her mind, like a voice from the darkest corners of her soul. Brevin is her mate, and any sacrifices made for the sake of their relationship and the many children she will spawn for him are more than justified! If anything, they should've left in the dead of night, without saying a word! They'd understand! The more distance between herself and her old temple, the better!

Her sudden lack of sympathy is unsettling, and she begins to recall those powerful urges that made her approach him in the first place. The urge to mate was even more powerful, and had it not been for the voice telling her to claim Brevin's manhood for herself, she might never have mated with him. They march silently through the streets and enter a market bazaar. Brevin quietly urges her to stay close to him and remain focused.

Nailah is almost offended that he would have to tell her such a thing. Why would she ever stray from his side?! However, as they walk, Nailah suddenly hears her name. She briefly panics as she looks back, only to see Yralissa standing behind a booth beside an older woman. Nailah looks back to Brevin whose face shows his uncertainty. They both know that they need to keep moving but Nailah is far too curious. She turns away from her mate and approaches the booth, her hand ripping from his grasp.

“Nailah!" He calls to her in a gruff but hushed voice.

“Hi, Nailah!" Yralissa chirps.

“Hello. It [is] nice to see you again."

“Yes, it is." The tall and buxom zebra woman nods. “They finally free[d] you?!"

“Erm... Yes." Nailah lies to her old friend. “Who [is] this?"

“She [is the] mother of my mate!" Yralissa chirps. “We help her with [her] shop! My mate leave[s] for [a] moment, and bring [us] lunch!"

“Oh."

Nailah can feel a tinge of jealousy as she looks the zebra woman over. The towering Korutan female radiates joy, just as she had when she saw her earlier, on her first journey to the hospital. However, there's something different about her. Yralissa's belly isn't quite as flat as it was, and her breasts appear to have grown even larger. Noticing her perplexed expression, the Korutan bows her head and rests a hand on her belly.

“I [did] not gain weight. My mate gave me [a] child." She jokes.

“And what adorable hybrids you two are going to have!" Her mother-in-law gushes. “So strong and so valuable... I hope you make many children." She remarks, resting a hand on the zebra woman's belly.

“Hehe! You [do] not need [to] worry." Yralissa giggles.

“Nailah, we have to go." Brevin approaches.

“You [are] with child?" Nailah whimpers.

“Yes. My mate want[s] many children!" Yralissa exclaims, obviously overjoyed.

“As do we." Her mother-in-law coos, flashing a strange grin.

“Nailah! By 'The One'... Nailah, we must go!"

Brevin grabs her arm and squeezes. Yralissa looks to the man with her innocent smile, while her mother-in-law appears to realize that something is amiss. She looks to Brevin with narrowed eyes, then to Nailah. The Sabaarii feels the strength of his grip and hears the frustration in his voice. He leads her away, pulling her by the arm like a disobedient child. It awakens the primal creature that dwells within her, and she responds to his aggression with gleeful submission. There's a warmth in her core; she takes comfort in following his lead.

“Please, don't make me do that." He speaks softly, looking to her with mournful eyes.

The warmth inside of her begins to fade and she spends the rest of the walk confused, silently analyzing her conflicting feelings. They soon reach a small brick building with a wagon train beside it. Brevin stops and turns to her, holding her hand tightly.

“When we enter, do not speak..." He sternly warns her.

“Why?"

“We're pretending that you're my slave, and if you're a slave, you cannot be heard speaking my language. Only the Companions and beast folk raised by The Order speak our language. You can talk again when we're away from this place."

Nailah smiles and nods. They step inside of the small building and Brevin approaches a booth with a man inside. He presents a small, silver zakian and taps it atop the counter as he asks to purchase two tickets.

“One-way?" The clerk asks.

“Yes."

“I don't blame you. Things are getting stranger these days. I hear rumors of frightening new weapons being used by the Iliumites, and then there's that awful plague afflicting the children." The clerk says, selecting a stamp and marking two tickets.

“Why do you think we're leaving?" Brevin remarks.

“Right... Papers, please."

He presents Nailah's forged documents to the clerk. As a human, Brevin only need state his name to the clerk. He examines her papers, compares the information with that on her tag, and once satisfied that she's his rightful property, returns the parchment to Brevin before handing over both tickets. Nailah's thankful that Tavisha was so strict about keeping her within the temple; no one in town recognizes her or knows her name, making the subterfuge that much easier.

“Be well, and safe travels." The clerk speaks in a strangely sullen tone.

“Thank you and take care." Brevin says with a nod.

With their bags in-hand, Brevin slips an arm around Nailah's waist and leads her outsite. The Sabaarii glances back only to turn to Brevin.

“Where [are] we go[ing]?" She quietly asks, her blocky snout brushing his ear.

“A few towns away. I bought tickets to a much larger city. We need time to think and plan. We can decide where we want to settle down as we travel." He quietly explains.

“Oh..." She murmurs, gripped with uncertainty.

They make their way toward the wagon train and approach one of several passenger carriages.

“Need a ride?" The driver chirps.

“Yes, please."

“Alright. Lem'me see yer ticket, sir." He speaks with a strange drawl.

Brevin presents the tickets to the driver. He sits beside a Vostii of the wolf-kin, who eyes Nailah like a prime cut of meat. The Vostii scans her up and down, focusing on her ample chest whilst licking his lips. Acting without thought or hesitation, Nailah steps closer to Brevin, narrows her eyes and hisses at the wolf man, showing her mouth full of sharp teeth! With a raised brow, the Vostii looks between them, only for the driver to suddenly bark at him.

“Vii'seba il obrash'aht! Mii'ya vladei ro'ta!" The driver barks in a language that Nailah cannot understand.

The wolf man instantly responds, bowing his head before looking ahead, his hands grasping the horse's reins. Pocketing the tickets, the driver gestures with his head for the pair to climb into the carriage.

“Sorry 'bout 'im. He don't get out much."

“It's alright... That's an interesting accent you have!"

“Yeah. We 'aven't been this way in a long time. Tryin' to make our way back 'ome. Ain't fairin' well, though." The driver chuckles. “Put yer things in the trunk and make yerselves at 'ome! Not many going to Sloan these days, at least not from 'ere."

Brevin and Nailah stow their belongings and climb aboard, sitting beside each other on the rear bench seat. No other passengers join them, and after a brief wait the driver gives the word and his Vostii companion flicks the reins. The powerful draft horses begin to move, jolting the cabin and causing Nailah to gasp. She looks to Brevin and flushes.

“I [have] not ever ride in [a] wagon before." She quietly remarks.

“It's alright, my sweetroll. You'll have plenty of experience, soon. We have a long way to travel."

Brevin slides closer and drapes an arm over her, comforting her with the warmth of his embrace. Nailah leans against her mate, resting her head against him. Curious, she pokes her head out of the window and scans their surroundings. They approach much larger and more imposing walls than those guarding the temple. This must be the border to their town! The driver and his Vostii bring the carriage to a halt, stopping before the massive gates, made of aged iron caked in thick, black paint.

The guards check his papers then gives the order, shouting them through an old horn. Beside the gates are two towers, one on either side. Men inside wave in response, then pull levers which hold large counterweights in place. Nailah watches in awe as these men turn large wheels, easily manipulating the massive gates as if they had the strength of twenty! She's never seen such technology, marveling at the human's ingenuity. What wonders have been kept from the ladies of the temple!

“Stay safe out there. Be mindful of raiders and Iliumites." The soldier warns as he waves the carriage through.

“Aye, and you as well, good sir!" The driver tips his hat to the soldier.

The carriage rolls along, pulled at a steady gait by the draft horses. Nailah's heart races as she watches them passing underneath the archway, which is lined with strange holes that seem to serve no purpose. Beyond the massive walls is a seemingly endless field, with perfectly tamed wilderness on either side, a veritable wall of wood and greenery. It frames the path that leads into the unknown. She looks to Brevin and then out of the window several times, unable to believe it. It's finally happened! They've escaped!

“I [did] not know this would be [so] easy!" Nailah cannot help but comment, watching as the town's walls gradually shrinking.

“I thought it would be, so long as they didn't catch us leaving during the night. That wasn't what worried me." Brevin remarks.

“It [is] not?!" She gasps, turning to him.

“No."

“Then what [is the] hard part?" She asks, turning to him.

“I'm not sure..."

“What [do] you mean?!" She eyes him from head to toe, even more uncertain than before.

“It could be many things. Perhaps we'll struggle to decide where to live? Perhaps the hard part will be deciding our children's names, or how many to have?" He winks.

“Oh! Hehe..." She giggles, but only halfheartedly.

The lovers share a kiss and an embrace, and Nailah clings to the human who has brought her so much joy, so much meaning to her life. However, though her heart soars with rapturous joy at having finally escaped The Order's invisible shackled, she cannot help but feel that this isn't the end. What will they do now? Will she find the peace she so desperately seeks, or will there be more hardship in their future?