The silent Oracle

[Charity, Appointed Goddess]

Silent has the temple of Antonin, God of Violence, been of late. At the foot of the god's grand statue were the multitude of gifts, offerings of sweets, flowers, gold and jewels, delivered by his devoted followers, from kings and peasants alike, those who came seeking for his advice. The rumours of war hung over them all like some foreboding fog, and their visits have been more frequent than the norm. Yet their questions and prayers have been unanswered lately, for the Oracle had yet to speak to any of them, and while they were disappointed as they left the temple, they comforted themselves that this was most likely because the god had other more pressing matters to tend to. They would come back again another time.

And so, the life of the young woman who watches over the temple was also quiet. Day by day she contented herself to cleaning up the gifts that had been offered to the god she was given to, cleaning his statue, and going about her usual routine...save for talking. The Oracle was angry, angry at her god for his silence and absence from the temple, and from her anger, she had decided to take a vow of silence instead of misleading them with lies and false hopes for his devotees when they came to ask for his advice.

[Antonin, God of Violence]

Antonin found the gifts unappealing -- certainly more could be offered than mere flowers, jewels, and the food that littered the base of his statue; mere mortal offerings, nothing suited for a god. At least not a god that found pleasure in the pain of others. It was hardly the discomfort of his followers that drove him to visit the temple. No, for they meant very little to him at all. Instead, the aggravation swelling in the every action offered by Charity, his appointed oracle, was enough to amuse him and brought about his appearance.

The small crack that marked his arrival echoed throughout the now empty temple, and without much hesitance, Antonin stepped forward. A smirk came to rest over his lips as he turned and swept the temple with a single glance, as if disapproving. Still as boring as ever. Charity, however, caught his eye, and with a simple smile Antonin crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

The vow of silence was being tested now, and Antonin enjoyed seeing how devoted his oracle truly was.

[Charity, Appointed Goddess]

The entire temple echoed with what sounded to Charity like a small clap of thunder, and she gasped at its sudden appearance, the only sound she had made in what was the course over the last few months. Stopping abruptly in her task, she began to search for the source of the sound, her bare feet padding almost soundlessly across the cold stone floor.

It did not take her long to see the source behind the sound. As she was raised within the walls of the temple, her eyes have only seen one man when he chose to appear to her. There was power and intimidation in his youthful presence, although so used she was to him that she remained unaffected.

Her widened, surprised blue gaze was replaced by a cold stare. Unaware that she was probably acting more like a dejected lover than a priestess, most likely out of her youthful age than anything else, she turned away from him, refusing to speak unless instructed to do so. After all, she felt that he should at the very least explain his absence to her.

[Antonin, God of Violence]

Wide-blue eyes met that of Antonin's: stone cold, grey. Yet there was little masking to his emotions for they danced across his features and forced a smile to tug at the corner of his lips. Yes, Charity was certainly acting the part of a lover long awaiting the appearance of the prince expected to sweep her off her feet. And for this, Antonin was certainly amused.

Silence hardly portrayed his priestess properly, though. It was only another moment that he allowed for it to echo through the temple before with a clearing of his throat, he beckoned:

"Come here, my darling."

[Charity, Appointed Goddess]

When he spoke, she paused in her steps, standing where she was with her back to him. It was the voice belonging to the one she would do anything for, whose every beck and whim she would fulfill without question or hesitation. When she turned to look at him then, it was clear to see that her stern expression had softened considerably, if only for a moment. Then the coldness returned once again as she fought to keep herself from giving in to him so readily, despite her unwavering devotion to him.

Even still, he had beckoned to her, and she cannot deny his command. She approached him, still refusing to speak to him, and her face remained expressionless despite the well-hidden joy she felt at his return.

[Antonin, God of Violence]

"This--" Antonin motioned with a sweeping gesture as again, he managed a smile. A hand lifted then and fingers caressed lightly over Charity's cheek, his eyes never leaving his priestess' gaze. "This doesn't suit you. You're not meant to frown," and as if to emphasize his point, a single finger lightly came to ghost along the length of her bottom lip -- where it lingered, if only for a moment too long.

Dropping his hand, Antonin found his feet, and brushed past her. The temple itself took on the shape of a cylinder, which served well for Antonin now found himself pacing in circles due to habit. Being the god of violence, there was little free time Antonin found himself having, always a squabble to observe, a war to cause, men to brutally kill. It was why the idea of a serious conversation left him in more of a need to move for perhaps moving might throw her thoughts off and toward the general direction in which he was more interested:

"I want a human sacrifice, not flowers. You tell them this next time they come."

[Charity, Appointed Goddess]

She flitted her gaze down to the fingers he trailed down along her cheek and lower lip, and fought to keep her breathing at its normal pace. Nevertheless, it was a bit of comfort he offered her then, that bit of human contact she was denied to have because of her station as a priestess for her god. The girl smiled faintly at his touch, and her eyes followed him when he began to pace around the temple. This was perhaps the first time she had seen him in full consciousness, for she would oft be in a trance-like state of mind during the other times when he had appeared to her, giving her messages to tell his devotees when they came, and she found herself unable to look away from him.

At his mention of the sacrifice, the girl moved over to the stone table where the ritual was performed, passing her hand across the cold surface. She could see the faint remnants of past offerings, the only memory of those who gave their lives to appease their god, and Charity became sombre at the thought. "As you wish," she said, her voice echoing against the walls of the temple. The girl turned to look at Anton again. "Will they receive the advice they come seeking then? So silent you have been as of late. Will their sacrifice appease you to give them answers again?"

[Antonin, God of Violence]

Antonin turned abruptly, stone cold gaze locking to that of Charity's own. Will their sacrifice appease you to give them answers again? The god had certainly not expected Charity to be so blunt in her questions, and he found himself (again, if only for a moment) unknowing of the answer. His uncertainty was quickly masked, however, with a simple roll of his shoulders -- and back to pacing he went, the former smile replaced now with an all too grumpy sort of disposition.

"They will receive the advice they've come seeking so long as they put me first. I am tired of being the last resort, I am fed up of these silly mortal offerings and the expectation I am to bow to their every whim upon receiving them. If they want my help, I expect them to show how much I mean to them. Be it one sacrifice or many. I want to see how dedicated they are."

[Charity, Appointed Goddess]

"As their god, it is your duty to show your worshippers how much they mean to you," replied Charity firmly. The girl walked up to him as he paced around the temple, the sheer robes that adorned her body rustling loudly behind her from the speed of her movements. "These are troubled times, my god, and the will of people everywhere are constantly tried and tested. Yet the times are also changing, with science and innovation replacing the dark rituals of old, and the few that do come to this temple come because they have faith...and hope that you will help them. Anton...my god..."

The girl stepped in front of him, fully aware that her actions were far too forward, yet also ready to face the consequences, for good or for ill, and there was no fear in her eyes when she looked at him then. "What will you do when all have lost their faith and the temple is barren? What is a god's purpose when he no longer has anyone to believe in him?"

[Antonin, God of Violence]

Charity had well stepped out of line, and Antonin was fully aware of his knowledge of this. With narrowed eyes, his pacing had come to an abrupt end, and a hand came to fist in the back of her hair once she approached. Lips curled back and teeth were bared -- a sign of his anger, no doubt, for what little control he had over it was bordering on being lost completely now. "You do realise who you're speaking to, I hope, priestess. You do realise the snark, the attitude--" fingers tightened as he tugged at her hair, a small growl now emitting itself from the back of his throat, and his steps began again now, guiding her toward the nearest wall. "Is in the least bit acceptable and if you don't watch your tongue then it will be your body I find to be my sacrifice."

[Charity, Appointed Goddess]

The girl was fully aware that she was completely out of line, from the moment she had addressed her god by his name, although she also knew that once spoken, she could not take back her words. The damage was already done, and by the time Antonin approached her, Charity had already braced herself for what was to come, even if it should end up costing her her life. She drew in a hissing breath when he grabbed a fistful of her hair, wincing at the pain as he half-pulled, half-dragged her to the wall. Yet she did not protest, nor did she cry out, tear up, or bothered pleading with him. As unbecoming as it was to step out of bounds and be opinionated with her god, it was also unseemly for her to plea with him. If it was his intent to kill her, then as his priestess, she must be willing to accept it as her fate.

She felt the hard surface of the wall rush up against her back, and it was then that the priestess dared to open her eyes, gazing steadily back at Antonin. "I realise that I was out of line," she said, despite the fact that her scalp was now in throbbing pain. "I spoke without thinking, and I knew not what I said. I am at your mercy to do what you wish for my audacity."