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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 One: Dreams

Shivering and covering her ears, the terrified girl cannot help herself. She opens her eyes and peeks between her crimson fingers only to see the body of a man, twitching and oozing blood from many wounds. With a shriek, she scrambles from beneath the wicker stool where she'd tucked herself and races for the archway. She jumps back as another man falls down the steps and rolls across the floor. He lands near her feet, on his back. Cold, lifeless eyes stare up at her; they're not the gleaming orbs of the living but more akin to painted stones.

Shadows emerge from above, looming over the entrance like angry gods of death and chaos. Her entire body trembles with fear. Falling on her butt, the little girl rolls and scurries away. Her claws scrape against the stone floor as she tries to pick herself up but the little child shrieks once again. A shadow looms over her and she's abruptly lifted off the ground, carried in the cold, metal arms of a strange warrior! He moves toward a large and crackling fire and her little heart races. Is this it?!

“Ahh!"

Sitting up in bed, her chest heaves and her body is drenched in sweat. Her skin glistens in the moonlight which beams through the stained-glass window of her bedchamber, on the second floor of the temple. Bringing her clawed hands to her face, the young girl tries to calm herself. Her big, sapphire eyes focus on the walls around her, the sheets covering her slender legs and the unlit candle atop the simple, wooden table beside her bed. It was yet another nightmare. Her pointy ears twitch. The pattering of footfalls echo throughout the stone halls of the temple. Someone races toward her. A quick sniff of the air sets the Sabaarii's mind at ease.

“What's wrong, Nailah?! I heard you scream! What is it, child?!"

The temple's vicar, an elderly human woman clad in nightly robes and walking on bare feet, makes her way toward Nailah's bed. The old priestess clutches a lit candle in a small, pewter holder. She places it atop the table, beside the young Sabaarii's bed. Turning to the girl, she kneels at her bedside. The red and white Sabaarii is of the water-kin, an amphibious breed of the mammalians who appear as humanoid reptiles, is one of many beast folk children who inhabit the temple to 'The One,' the human's omnipotent and omnipresent creator deity.

Nailah stares at the vicar with tear-filled eyes, extends her little arms and wiggles her clawed fingers as she silently begs to be held by the aging human. The old woman smiles and sits beside the little girl, wrapping her arms around her as she pulls the child into her lap. With the tenderness of a mother, she cradles the shivering girl. Nailah rests her head against the woman's chest and her long and tapering tail curls, hooking the priestess' side.

“Are you alright? Are you ill?" The vicar asks in a warm, motherly voice, petting the child's head.

“I had [a] bad dream. I heard fighting. I saw blood. It scared me." Little Nailah whimpers.

“There, there. It's alright." The vicar coos, rubbing the young Sabaarii's back. “It was only a dream."

“But [the] battle scared me!" She insists, tears streaming down her cheeks and around her snout.

“I know, little one." She continues, lovingly caressing Nailah's head and petting her ruby hair. “Pray to 'The One' to take the visions from you, child."

“I do. I pray each day, Gianna. I still see [the] battle. Why do I still see [it]?" The little girl asks, her eyes sad and her bottom lip quivering.

“I don't know..." Gianna sighs. “But continue to pray. Adonai, 'The One,' is always listening."

“Yes, Gianna."

Gianna's heart aches as she watches the blue flesh of Nailah's bottom lip trembling in the candlelight. The young Sabaarii has lived in the female-only temple for some time now, raised in their faith and taught the human's language as soon as she began to speak. She's been there for so long, and yet she still struggles to banish her nightmares. With another warm embrace Gianna gives Nailah a soft kiss on the forehead, only to continue petting her ruby hair. More footfalls catch the Sabaarii's attention. Even Gianna can hear them. Turning toward the doorway, a much younger woman emerges.

The sleepy teenage human is an acolyte-clergywoman and in training to become a vicar, like Gianna. She stands in her nightly robes and rubs her eyes, still half asleep. She turns to her leader and the young Sabaarii atop her lap. Her tired eyes express great concern.

“What happened? I thought I heard crying."

“It's alright, Tavisha. Nailah just had another nightmare."

“The poor thing." Tavisha murmurs. “Do you need my help?"

“No. You may return to bed."

“Alright... Goodnight, Gianna. Goodnight, Nailah. Sleep well, little one."

“Goodnight, Tavisha." Nailah waves.

“Poor, sweet Nailah..." Gianna sighs, giving the Sabaarii one more squeeze to subdue her frazzled nerves. “I wonder..."

“Yes, Gianna?" Nailah tilts her head back as she looks to the priestess, her muzzle pointing upward.

“Perhaps 'The One' is sending you a message? Perhaps these dreams have some hidden meaning?"

“Truly?!" The little girl's eyes widen.

“Perhaps. Pray for guidance and for Adonai to give you an answer... Now, please, try to rest." She continues, sliding the Sabaarii off her lap and lying her down.

“Yes, Gianna."

With another tender kiss to the child's forehead, she tucks her in and gently taps the front her snout with a fingertip. Nailah cannot help but smile, comforted by the aging human who cares for her and the other young ladies of the temple. The orphaned and unclaimed girls, most of them beast folk, have been claimed by The Order, where they're to be raised among the temples and train to become members of the clergy. When day breaks, she'll begin another round of study, chores and prayer. Perhaps if she's lucky, she'll be chosen to assist in ceremonies!

Rising to her feet, Gianna moves with her usual sluggishness as she collects her candle. It's only during these moments, when Nailah and the other girls are in distress, that the elderly woman suddenly has the strength and swiftness of a much younger lady. She cares so deeply for all her wards, a feeling the young ladies reciprocate. Stopping at the door, Gianna leans against the frame for support. Looking back at Nailah, she flashes a warm smile.

“Tomorrow will be a better day, Nailah, especially since you will help us with the ceremonial paint. Would you like that?"

“Yes!" Nailah exclaims.

“Hehe... I thought so. Then I will see you tomorrow. You may help me decorate the bride." Gianna smiles.

“Eee!" Nailah squeals with eager anticipation.

The wondrous opportunity makes it a struggle to sleep but when she finally does, she no longer has nightmares. Tavisha awakens her the following morning, as is her duty. After taking the girls to the dining hall for breakfast, they enter the chapel and she leads them in their morning prayers to Adonai, 'The One,' the creator of all that is, was, and ever will be. The girls then bathe in the temple's communal bath, dress in silver dresses with dark purple trim, the clothing of the initiates, and prepare for their duties.

Nailah pulls her garment over her head and slips her arms through the long sleeves, which attach to the body of her dress and leave the shoulders exposed. The little girl briefly wonders if Gianna has forgotten about her. However, just as she'd promised, Gianna collects Nailah from the lot. With the elderly priestess leading her, they find the bride waiting patiently in a room at the rear of the temple. She will soon be married, but not before she's been properly adorned. The young Sabaarii girl assists with the ceremonial paint in henna.

The potent dye sits in wait, having been prepared by more experienced artisans the night before. The bride's traditional, short-sleeved dress is so beautiful and shiny. Nailah watches as Gianna skillfully paints the bride's hands and forearms with a finely tipped brush made of horsehair. The young Sabaarii prepares more dye as needed. It's quite the responsibility for a youngling initiate such as herself. As she paints, the elderly priestess speaks softly, questioning the Sabaarii girl. Her curiosity about the nightmares that plague the child is hardly hidden.

“Is it the same every night?"

“No." Nailah shakes her head. “It [is] not always same. Sometimes, I only see shadows but sometimes I see people. [The] faces never change... I see people all over, lying down and dripping red. Some [are] human, but most [are] Sabaarii."

“Hmm... And what of the surroundings?"

“Sometimes, I [am] in [a] big stone room. It [is] very dark, and there [is] fire in it. Sometimes, I [am] flying over streets made of stone and sand." Nailah replies, tapping a claw to her chin as she tries to remember. “There [is] always fire, and always blood. I hear shouting, screaming, and sometimes weeping. It scares me!" Nailah whimpers.

“I know. Thankfully, you do not have these dreams every night. Do you ever wonder why that is so? Was there something you were thinking about before bed? Did you hear or see something unusual?"

“I [do] not know... I [do] not think so!" Nailah scratches her little head.

“I see..." Gianna murmurs.

“She is so adorable. How long have you had this little one?" The bride suddenly asks.

“Nailah is seven years old." Gianna answers.

“Oh... And did she come from-?"

The bride pauses when the elderly Gianna suddenly glares at her. With a strange look on her face, the young woman seems to forget what she was saying. She bows her head and then nods. Though perplexed, Nailah knows it's impolite to ask elders their thoughts.

“You're doing a wonderful job, ma'am." The bride remarks, examining the artwork staining her soft skin.

“I'm as skilled as 'The One' permits me to be, though I admit, my strength leaves me sooner than it once did! Perhaps these old fingers could use a break..."

“Would you like to rest, ma'am?"

“Oh, I would, but you have a wedding to attend!"

“I don't mind!" The bride smiles.

“I'm certain your husband would disagree. The marital bed awaits, after all!" Gianna flashes a little grin.

“Hehe! That it does!" The bride chirps.

“But I could use a rest..." Gianna sighs. “Hmm... Perhaps you would be so kind as to let her continue for me?" The old priestess looks to Nailah.

Nailah gasps, her jaw dropping and eyes growing wide.

“Not at all!" The bride smiles.

“Nailah?"

“Yes, Gianna?!"

“Would you like to try?" The elderly priestess presents her with the brush.

“EEE!!!"

The women giggle.

“Ahem... I mean, yes. I would like to paint!" Nailah tries to wrangle her excitement.

Gianna presents her with the finely tipped brush and tray of henna. Moving her arm toward the young Sabaarii girl, the bride allows the child to draw on the back of her wrist. Moving the brush very slowly and carefully, little Nailah marks the bride with henna and crafts an intricate pattern the likes of which neither Gianna nor the bride have ever seen. It's a beautiful symbol with many curls and points, like a wheel made of the woven stems of thorned roses. Even Nailah is surprised by the artwork she has made. Where did she learn to do this?!

“Well, now! It would seem we have an artist in our midst!" Gianna proclaims.

“Thank you, Gianna!"

“Has she painted before?!" The bride asks, marveling at the artwork.

“Not to my knowledge." Gianna replies.

“This [is] my first attempt... Perhaps this [is] skill 'The One' gave me?" Little Nailah suggests.

“It certainly is." Gianna smiles, embracing the beast girl.

The Sabaarii continues her work and draws many similar symbols. Somehow, they feel strangely familiar to the little girl. When the wedding begins everyone notices the unique markings she's painted. The praise is welcome but as a faithful initiate, a priestess in the making, she passes the glory to her God, as she should. It's a lovely ceremony, and Nailah swoons as she watches the bride and groom holding each other, kissing so passionately. Love is such a beautiful thing! That night Nailah sleeps peacefully.

When Tavisha awakens her the following morning, Gianna is quick to find her and Nailah finds herself in a room with another elderly priestess, a woman named Zaronika. Many have heard of her. Though still a vicar, she no longer leads a temple, opting instead to teach future vicars. It's a path walked mostly by acolyte-teachers, not the priesthood. Zaronika is famed for her skill as an artist; few have worked on so many books or designed so many mosaics and stained-glass windows. It's an honor to even be in the same room as her!

To Nailah's shock and delight, Zaronika has already agreed to train the young initiate in the ways of art and literature. This is a guaranteed path toward becoming a vicar, Gianna's position as head of a temple! Vicar are a step above the acolytes of the clergy and are highly respected, especially those with artistic talent. Gianna leaves the Sabaarii child with the priestess artisan for her first lesson, hoping that a purpose will help ease her mind and take the nightmares from her. It works, for the most part, and though Nailah's dreams persist, their frequency diminishes greatly over time.

Many years pass. Like all children, Nailah grows up, but so does her skill and reputation. Many brides and mourners desire to have their bodies painted by the Sabaarii artist, and she's even asked to help design a new window for the temple across town, where the male's stay. She paints it on canvas. Her promotion to acolyte is swift and startling. Few reach such a rank before puberty, as she has, especially beast folk. Gianna, however, seems to have a future planned for young Nailah. When Gianna's health inevitably fails her, just after Nailah's fourteenth birthday, Tavisha is promoted from acolyte to vicar, and becomes the new priestess of the temple.

Gianna passes away in her sleep not long afterward, Tavisha gains control. Her death is a devastating blow to all who reside in the holy building. To honor her beloved mentor and friend, Nailah not only assists in the funerary rights, washing Gianna's body and preparing the altar for the ceremony, but she also paints Gianna's hands, arms and neck. She draws many of The Order's symbols on her cold flesh with henna. It's a sign of great respect, but the pain of her loss is great. It's then that her nightmares return, as strong as they ever were.

“Kill Yasheriit! (TRANSLATE)" A muscular Sabaarii man roars, racing up the steps.

“Yasheriit not stop sacrifices! We honor our gods! (TRANSLATE)" A female shouts, clinging to Nailah's little body.

“What barbarians!" A human shouts.

“Put the sword in the lot of them!" Another roars.

“No! We must burn children for our gods! (TRANSLATE)" The Sabaarii woman implores, losing her grip on Nailah.

Falling to the ground, Nailah scurries away. Her little hands grab the legs of the wicker stool which she hides beneath. Looking back, she sees the woman who held her, a white Sabaarii of the water-kin with streaks of red in her smooth, glossy flesh. She turns to Nailah and extends a clawed hand, a look of anger in her sapphire eyes. Suddenly, an arrow flies down the stairwell and embeds itself in her neck! The blood spurts out of her wound as she reaches for the shaft of the arrow, creating an arc of crimson as long as a person is tall. A thud draws her attention. A male Sabaarii lies dead nearby.

“Ahh!" Nailah jolts, opening her eyes.

She rolls from her side and bolts upright in her bed. Her chest heaves, her slender arms, ample breasts and toned belly glossy with sweat. Bringing her clawed hands to her face, she curls her snow-white fingers over the red flesh of her snout.

“Dream... It was only a dream..." She murmurs.

Lifting her hands, she runs her fingers through her long, wavy hair. Her ruby locks are drenched in sweat, as is her bedding. The nightmares are becoming worse. What do they mean?! Though she tries, she's unable to return to sleep. Luckily for her, it's already nearly dawn. She often sleeps naked, for her comfort, and so Nailah first collects a night robe from the bottom drawer of her nightstand before making her way toward the communal baths. As the acolyte-clergywoman, she now leads the young girls every morning, as Tavisha had done.

However, she decides to wash before she rouses the young ladies, as is her duty. What child wants to awaken to body odor? With the sun creeping over the horizon and piercing the stained-glass window, Nailah approaches the large, tiled pool and drops her robe to the floor. Stepping into the large bath, where many of the temple women and young ladies wash together, she submerges herself in the crystal-clear water. Sunlight typically ensures that it's warm, but as a Sabaarii of the water-kin, she isn't easily discomforted by colder water. Her hide, though supple and smooth to the touch, is quite dense.

Using a cloth and scented oils, she carefully scrubs her naturally hairless body until her glossy hide is clean. She also ensures that her underarms and nether regions are not forgotten, cleaning between her legs and beneath the base of her tail. Once her body is clean, she decides to sit back and enjoy the bath for a moment longer. Sitting atop one of the stone benches at the corner of the bath, she watches the shimmering light of early dawn as it bounces off the water and her glossy flesh. It's almost hypnotic.

Her body relaxes and the Sabaarii slowly submerges herself, until only the nostrils that crown the front of her snout remain above the surface. Suddenly, she notices something that draws her attention. Sitting upright, her sapphire eyes grow wide. Could it be?! Sticking her face into the water, she sees through it with clarity. Her eyes do not deceive her. A little speck of white graces a formerly crimson toe. That wasn't there yesterday! Pulling her face from the water and sliding backward on the stone bench, Nailah lowers her body while lifting a leg.

With the water up to her neck, she pokes her toes above the surface. There it is! There's a white spot on her big toe and near the base of her claw! It's not a stain but part of her flesh. Bolting upright, the water cascades down her healthy, voluptuous form. Curling her tail over her back, she drapes the long, thick and tapering appendage over a shoulder. An even larger white spot with a bit of grey covers the tip! Grinning from cheek to cheek, she clasps her clawed hands together, pulling them to her chest and pressing her forearms against her ample breasts.

Finally, after so long, her adult colors are beginning to show! She's waited for this moment ever since she began her monthly cycle and her body began to change! All those years of waiting, but now she's a proper woman of the Sabaarii! Her elation is cut short, however. Her arms fall back into the water as she sighs, her brow softened with sorrow. She's a member of The Order's priesthood, an acolyte on track to become a vicar. The Order doesn't forbid marriage for the clergy, however, there are certain restrictions.

Acolytes in any other field, whether it be teachers or artisans or soldiers, are free to marry whenever they so choose. Though they're encouraged to remain celibate until such time as they claim a life-partner, it isn't a well-followed ruled. However, acolytes aspiring to join the clergy must remain celibate until their marriage, which is forbidden until such time as they are promoted. Only once they've completed their studies and attained the rank of vicar, becoming a proper priest or priestess, may any member of the clergy take a husband or wife. As an assistant to the clergy, a loyal servant to her vicar, Nailah is not yet free to take a husband.

Unfortunately, to her knowledge, she's the first of the beast folk to come so close to the level of vicar. She must abstain until such time when she's promoted and marries her soulmate. Her mind races. What if they deny her promotion? What if she, like the other ladies of the beast folk, is kept an acolyte for her entire life?! Unable to leave the temple as freely as the vicar, will she ever find a husband?!?! Without a man to claim for her own, she certainly cannot mate, as The One frowns upon sex without love and compassion; there's no better way to show one's love than to bond themselves in sacred passion.

Though her adult colors are beginning to the show, the final stage of her growth as a Sabaarii, she must remain virginal and as any woman knows, true womanhood walks hand-in-hand with motherhood. She finds the thought of celibacy instantly revolting and a part of her is shocked. She's rarely thought of such things before, though the occasional arousing dream has left her uncomfortable at times. Why does she now suddenly find herself revolted at the thought of continued virginity? Why is she gradually developing a yearning for male companionship, which increases in intensity with each passing day? Could this be a part of the change, her progress into adulthood?!

Men are rarely seen at her temple, and so their presence shouldn't be tainting her thoughts so severely. The men of their town, when in need of religious council, frequent the other temple, where The Order's male wards live and study. It's only during those rare moments when there are marriages or funerals when the acolyte assistants to the priestesses, such as Nailah, engage with the men of the town for any length of time. During these moments, they're never left unattended, always supervised by a human of equal or superior rank.

Perhaps it's the Unfettered who contaminate her thoughts? Like many temples of The One, there are a group of guards who protect them. These elite few men are not acolyte-soldiers, but paid mercenaries belonging to a private company, one of the most powerful in all Morveria, second only to the Bennett family's 'Temple of the Companions.' These “Unfettered" are often former slaves and have been completely emasculated; without any parts to speak of, they're physically unable to mate. As a result, they're said to be free from the constraints of lust, love and all forms of compassion, and none deny their ferocity in battle.

Now that she recalls, it was quite a disappointment to Nailah and the other young ladies when they discovered that the men of the Unfettered had their male parts removed. Perhaps these feelings and desires have always been within her?! Closing her eyes, Nailah quietly prays to The One to ease her troubled mind, to give her peace and happiness and to ensure that her status as a lowly acolyte of the clergy will not persist for long. There's nothing more she can do; prayer and patience are all that she has.

After climbing from the bath and drying her amphibious skin, Nailah returns to her room and puts on her acolyte dress. The black fabric with dark purple trim pulls over her voluptuous body and clings to it quite well. Her arms fit snuggly in the long sleeves, which are stitched to the body of her dress, and which leave her shoulders bare. Her tail is long, thick at the base but tapering to a fine point, and stretches the length of her body, from her head to her toes. It protrudes from a slit in her dress, near her buttocks, and sways so gracefully behind her.

Like many of the beast folk, she opts to walk on bare feet. Her toe-claws click softly as she moves from room to room, awakening the young ladies. As observant as they are talkative, the children repeatedly point out her new colors. Despite 'The One's' treasured humility, Nailah cannot help but feel tremendous pride in this new stage of her life. Perhaps a little pride is not such a bad thing, especially when the reason for it is so significant? After all, adulthood precedes marriage and children, and nothing pleases The One more than loving couples with many children.

The younger Sabaarii, for which there are few in this temple, admire her new colors. They marvel at the white and gray flesh that now clashes with her red skin, expressing their own desires for adulthood, husbands and children. Nailah feels her heart sinking. Her own fears of perpetual servitude, permanent status as an acolyte of the clergy, cause her to worry for the young ladies who may never attain husbands nor children. What a terrible fate that would be! No woman deserves that!

Nailah takes the ladies to the bath where she supervises them, ensuring that they do not play too much when they should be washing. After seeing them cleaned and dressed, she leads them to the dining hall for their breakfast, after which she guides them to the classrooms for their studies, where they're separated by age. Passing by a particular archway, the old mosaic chips; a young girl had dragged her claws along the wall and between the tiles for her amusement, inadvertently pulling out several.

“I [am] sorry, Nailah! I [did] not mean it!" The little girl exclaims, covering her gaping maw with a clawed hand.

“[Do] not be troubled, Avarisha. It was [an] accident. I [will] inform Tavisha."

“[Am] I in trouble?" The little white and black furred lemur girl asks, her big topaz eyes gazing up at her.

“No..." Nailah kneels and looks into her eyes. “Why [would] you be in trouble?" She asks, petting the girl's head so tenderly.

“I [do] not know..." Avarisha whimpers, averting her eyes.

“If it helps you feel better, I [will] claim responsibility."

This pleases Avarisha, who embraces Nailah and clings to her waist, her little head just beneath her plump bosoms. Nailah continues with her duties, taking the girls to their respective classrooms for studies and then chores. Afterward, she makes her way to the office of the head priestess. Opening the door, she finds Tavisha sitting at her desk and reading a letter.

“Pardon [my] intrusion." Nailah begins, bowing her head.

“No intrusion. I was only reading a letter from my husband."

“Oh..." Nailah murmurs.

“I'm sure you recall him. He's the vicar in the temple across town, where the boys live. He sometimes likes to send me his thoughts." Tavisha coos, caressing the letter and smiling at the words.

“I see..." Nailah speaks softly, gritting her teeth.

A growing envy burns within the Sabaarii. Why do the humans seem to have all the privileges? It's not fair. She deserves the love of a man, like any other woman, human or beast folk.

“Is that paint?" Tavisha asks, glancing at the Sabaarii's tail.

“Huh?"

“On your tail. There's a white spot."

“No!" Nailah chirps, unable to contain her smile. “My adult colors! They [have] finally appeared!"

“Oh..." Tavisha's expression changes. “Erm... What was it you needed? Are the girls alright?"

“Yes. [The] girls are very well, but Avarisha found damage. [A] hallway mosaic has broken."

“Which one?" Tavisha sighs, slumping back in her chair.

“Good point..." Nailah murmurs, a finger softly rubbing her bottom lip.

“It seems as though every day there is another problem... This temple hasn't seen proper care in decades, since before either of us were born, and now it's in a terrible state."

“Today, it was only [a] small piece, but many parts show age. What will happen when [the] girls are injured? Should we not repair [the] damages soon?" Nailah implores the temple's priestess.

“We'll have to. It's just that donations are not as good as they used to be." Tavisha replies, covering her face with her hands and letting out another sigh. “It's as if the novelty of eternal salvation is wearing off. This should have been done years ago, but..."

“I see..." Nailah whimpers, her saddened eyes glancing at the floor.

“Don't trouble yourself, Nailah. I'll take care of everything." Tavisha assures her with a warm smile.

“Understood. Good day, ma'am."

“Ugh! I'll never get used to that!"

“What?"

“Hearing “ma'am"! That makes me sound old!" Tavisha nervously chuckles.

“Would you prefer I call you [a] 'lady'?" Nailah grins.

“That makes me sound immature!"

“You [can]not win." Nailah giggles.

The Sabaarii returns to her duties, aiding the girls throughout their day before taking each one to their bed chamber and wishing them a goodnight. Making her way to her own room, Nailah wonders about all the other girls she'd known. So many once lived there, but not anymore. Most of them are now grown, as she is. Some were sent to other temples, but the rest eventually departed for one reason or another. She never knew to where or for what reason. Rumors say that many abandoned the clergy. Once, she witnessed a childhood friend walking beside a human male, a collar and tag around her neck but a smile on her face.

Of all her childhood friends, only Tavisha remains in the temple. As the vicar where else would she go? Nailah kept to her studies and strove for an equal promotion. Like Gianna, who wanted Nailah to one day attain her rank, it seemed that Tavisha was supportive. However, since her marriage to Fridel, the two young women haven't been as close as they used to be. Tavisha spends so much time with her work and what little time she has to herself she gives to her husband, as she should. Unfortunately, whenever they do speak to each other one of the few things that Nailah can feel is a deep, burning jealousy.

She knows how wrong that is, but she simply cannot help it! The One created all life and gave them these urges for a reason! Her loins were meant to produce children, and her large breasts are perfect for nursing! Adonai's children were meant to procreate, to spread across Morveria and to honor and glorify The One with families. To live as she does, without love or passion, was once a simple thing. When Nailah was but a child it never once crossed her mind! As she ages, however, she finds that it's no longer quite so simple. The urges, her desire for a man's company, are growing stronger with each passing day.

After removing her acolyte dress and placing it beside her rarely worn night robe, Nailah climbs into her bed and lies down to sleep. Though she tries to control them, her thoughts dwell on her new colors. They're developing so fast! In only a day, the length of her toes and a hand width on the tip of her tail have become white, just like her fingers, chest and belly. It won't be much longer before she appears as mature as her body, which developed years earlier. She cannot help but notice how a body's development is rarely in sync with the mind.

Nailah closes her eyes and hopes for a dreamless sleep, to awaken the next morning as if the night had never occurred. A warmth caresses her sides and Nailah opens her eyes. Inside her mind, she sees a shadowy hand. It strokes her flesh, tickling and soothing her at the same time. What's this?! The hand opens and presses against her broad hip, giving it a squeeze, before gliding down her leg to caress her thigh. Her breathing hastens as the hand, attached to an arm of shadow, slithers up her toned belly and around the underside of a plump, snow-white, melon-sized breast.

After rubbing her crimson nipple with a palm, the shadow man takes a firm hold! He massages her womanly mound with more force, kneading it. A finger and thumb pinch the tender flesh of her nipple, sending a shockwave throughout her entire body! Panting, she tries to look back, to see the stranger who fondles her as if she belonged to him. As she attempts to get a glimpse of the man behind her another hand emerges. It takes hold of her other breast and treats it in similar fashion, before jiggling both quite playfully.

She tries to speak, eventually telling the man to stop. He isn't listening. Instead, he grabs her bottom jaw as she whimpers and stammers, and places two fingers into her mouth! He wriggles them about and caresses her cheek and tongue as he explores her mouth. What a brute! Why does she like it?! With her saliva on his fingers, his hand moves down, past her breasts and toward her groin. The moist fingers wriggle between her legs which she presses together in a feeble attempt to stop him. It fails. She feels a pressure on her nether lips. He's just grabbed her womanhood!

“Ahh!"

Jolted awake by a loud bang, Nailah opens her eyes only to find herself with her own hand cupping her womanhood. Her loins are uncomfortably moist. Another hand grips firmly to a breast, a red nipple pinched between her finger and thumb. These sorts of dreams are coming with increasing regularity! She isn't sure which disturbs her more, the sexual dreams or the gory nightmares. With eyes wide, she hastily removes her hands from her body and sits up, only to climb out of bed and make her way toward the window.

Peering outside, she can see figures. They're men! Nearly a dozen men, all of them human, are unloading sacks and tools from a cart pulled by a pair of powerful draft horses. Though she's eager to see these men up close, she turns her attention to Tavisha who storms outside and into the courtyard below. Her superior hearing can only faintly make out what she says through the closed window. Though she knows she shouldn't, she cannot help herself and the Sabaarii woman lifts the latch and pushes the window open, but only a little bit.

“That still doesn't answer my question! What are these men doing here?!"

“You thought I would bring women to work with mortar, stone and wood? This is difficult work. I need muscles and stamina, and for as strong as women can be, they're not a match for a healthy man."

“What about the beast folk?!" She desperately suggests.

“Beast men?" He raises a brow.

“No! Uhm... What about Korutan?! Many women of the hoofed beast folk are strong, especially women of the horse-kin! Couldn't they work with stone? Or perhaps a Vostii of the bear-kin?!" Tavisha suggests.

“Ma'am, you're aware of the kingdom we're unfortunate enough to live within... This is Navarda. I'm a faithful servant to Adonai, and in order to have access to beast folk as workers, I would first need to purchase them as slaves. I cannot believe in The One, who tells us that all life is precious and sacred while also condoning slavery. That would go against my faith!" The man retorts.

“... Can you at least attempt to keep them out of sight?!"

“How, then, would they complete their work?" He asks, scratching his head.

“..."

“I'll do what I can, but I won't lie to you... I know you care for the unclaimed girls of the beast folk, and that you employ the Unfettered as your guards, but you cannot shelter them forever. Have you not considered that this is why so many eventually leave?" He suggests.

“It's for their own good... Please, attempt to hide your workers as best you can. Please?!" Tavisha pleads.

“As I said, I'll do what I can, but I won't make promises that I cannot keep." He replies.

Why is Tavisha so concerned? What's for their own good? Why is she keeping men from the girls and young women of the temple? Is she hiding something?! Closing the window, Nailah takes a moment to compose herself before slipping on her acolyte dress and carrying out her duties. She pretends to be surprised by the sudden appearance of tools and material. Her acting is quite convincing. As the girls eat their breakfast, Tavisha pulls her aside. She explains that workers may be lurking about, human men. Nailah feigns a gasp.

Tavisha first begs for her trust, then warns her to be mindful of the men and to keep the girls contained, especially those who've recently begun their monthly cycles. The way she speaks is strange, as if it was the innocent girls who're the threat and not the adult men. Nailah cannot overlook the fear in Tavisha's voice. She finds herself growing concerned. Is there a genuine danger in having men here?! Despite her curiosity she doesn't press the issue and promises to keep watch over the young girls, just as Tavisha had asked.

“Thank you, Nailah..." Tavisha suddenly embraces the Sabaarii. “I can always count on you. You're a true friend."

“And you, Tavisha." Nailah murmurs, embracing her vicar.

Nailah tries to continue her duties as though it were any other day. She watches over the girls and leads them through the halls and toward their classrooms, where their acolyte teachers await. Glancing out of a window, Nailah nearly stops in her tracks. There is a man outside! Standing shirtless, his body glistens with sweat as he works tirelessly to mix mortar in the courtyard, stirring it by hand. Though she tries not to, she cannot help but stare at him. Her sapphire orbs turn sharply, keeping the stranger in focus.

Luckily, this goes unnoticed by the other girls, some of whom are still too short to see over the window ledge! After the last of the girls have entered their classroom, Nailah hastily returns to where she'd spotted the shirtless man. Maybe he's still there?! Just one more look won't hurt! She stops near a pillar and takes a deep breath before peeking around it and peering through the window glass. Her heart sinks. He's gone! Where did the handsome man go?! With her mind wandering, Nailah begins walking aimlessly throughout the halls and for the first time in many years, she neglects her duties.

Why is it suddenly so hard to concentrate? Is a male truly such a distraction?! Turning a corner and circling back toward the classrooms, Nailah wonders if more men will be there. She briefly imagines several men around her, eying her with desire. Her face flushes and a shiver shoots up her spine. The mere thought of the attention of men has given her an uncomfortable and embarrassing moistness in her loins. Perhaps Tavisha does have cause for concern?! Turning another corner, Nailah decides it best to visit the chapel, to pray to The One for strength. Hopefully, Adonai will grant her some solace.

Walking slowly and dragging her digitigrade feet, her claws suddenly catch on a shifted tile. Tripping over her own feet, Nailah stumbles past an archway. She nearly falls over, struggling to maintain her balance. Reaching out for something, anything to stabilize herself, she grabs the edge of the archway. Her clawed hands tear many mosaic tiles away and a cloud of greyish-brown dust swarms her body like angry bees. She finally regains her balance but the glossy red flesh atop her snout crinkles. She winces as she brings a hand to her face.

“Ah... ACHOO!!!" She finally sneezes.

“May Adonai bless you." Someone says.

“Thank y-"

Turning around to face the strange voice, Nailah finds herself paralyzed. A human male stands beneath the archway, examining the fresh damage. With wavy, golden-brown hair that reaches past his shoulders, his cleanly shaven face reveals a square jaw. His body is lean and strong, akin to the chiseled statues of warriors she'd seen and silently admired. His big, blue eyes look to her, a warmth in his smile. He's the very same man she'd seen mixing mortar outside! With his lightly tanned skin no longer glossy with sweat, he now wears a tunic. As the dust settles, she can smell the musk of his unwashed flesh. It's lovely! It lures her like a moth to a flame.

“You're welcome, miss...?"

“..."

“I'm 'Brevin'. What's your name?"

“Uhh..."

“That's a strange name." He teases.

“..."

“Are you alright?" He asks, his brow furling as his amusement morphs into concern. “You aren't unwell, are you?"

“... Huh? Oh! I-I [am] very well! Heh! ... N-Nailah... M-my name [is] 'Nailah'." She finally answers.

“Oh! That's a very pretty name!" He chirps.

Her heart skips a beat.

“It's very nice to meet you, Nailah!" Brevin continues, holding out a hand.

Though she briefly hesitates, she cannot help herself. Taking his hand into hers, Nailah is taken aback by the strength of his grasp. It isn't painful, not in the slightest, but there's something about the firmness with which he holds her hand... It feels strong. Masculine. Dominant...

“And it [is] very nice to meet you." She sheepishly replies, bowing her head.

“Pardon my saying this but... You speak very eloquently for a beast woman!"

“I do?!" She feels her cheeks flushing.

“Yes. Many of the beast folk who grew up with human language don't speak it so fluently."

“Ooh." She coos, her heart beating a little faster.

Nailah lifts her eyes and looks up at the man. His smile is so soft and warm and inviting, in stark contrast to his sturdy and masculine body. There's an aura about this man, a radiant warmth that pulls her in like an animal caught in a trap. She wants to say something to him, if only to hear him respond, but her mind is becoming increasingly foggy and she cannot think of anything to say.

“I've always wondered who lived here. I'm with the workmen. I'm an artisan! I'll be repairing the damages to your mosaics, so please try not to tear down any more tiles." He chuckles.

“Oh! H-how long [will] you be working?!"

“I'm not sure, but as much work as this temple needs, certainly many weeks. Perhaps even months." He replies, once again examining the damaged tiles.

“Ooh..." She coos, her eyes swiftly shifting and staring at the bulge in his trousers.

“Nailah?"

Whirling around, the young acolyte-clergywoman finds another acolyte standing nearby, one of the teachers. The older human woman eyes the Sabaarii with a level of suspicion that takes her aback. Why does she look so displeased?!

“Yes?"

“I thought you'd be in the temple, in prayer." The aged acolyte-teacher remarks.

“... Yes... I-I, uhm... I was-" Nailah stammers.

“She was on her way to the temple, but she tripped on damaged tiles. I was nearby and witnessed it. I wanted to ensure that she was unharmed." Brevin quickly interjects.

“Yes!" Nailah chirps.

“I see... Well... She appears to be fine, and you have work to do." The elderly teacher retorts, narrowing her eyes at him.

“And much of it!" Brevin grins.

With a soft sigh, Nailah turns toward Brevin and bows her head.

“I have duties to attend. Perhaps I [will] see you later?"

“Of course. I apologize if I kept you." Brevin softly replies.

What a tender tone of voice he has! With a quiet but delighted hum, Nailah turns her eyes up to meet his gaze. A little smile curls around her snout. After a short pause, she nods her head once. As she makes her way down the hall Brevin glances at the acolyte-teacher. The matured woman slowly shakes her head at him. His softened brow and eyes reveal a certain level of shame. The acolyte teacher approaches him, standing face-to-face with the young workman.

“You know better." She quietly scolds.

“Sorry..." He murmurs, bowing his head.

Shaking her head, the teacher takes her leave, walking a distance behind the Sabaarii as though she were watching her. Brevin clears his throat and returns to his work...