TW: Mentions of SA

Interlude: Sister Terevir

Terevir's black robes flapped around her as she waited at the end of the long pier. Wind pulled at her clothing, and spray and rain had soaked through to her skin, making her shiver despite the warmish air.

It was late, and she was starting to get antsy. She glanced back down the dock to where she could see a small group of soldiers sitting beneath the awning of the custom's house, playing cards in the orange lamplight. They had barely looked up when she'd passed them an hour earlier, but loitering on the end of a pier during a storm wasn't exactly an inconspicuous thing to do.

As an ordained Sister of Lorvel she had more protection from the whims of soldiers than most, but that protection wasn't absolute, least of all these days, and if they really knew what she was doing out here, she'd be hanging in the main square come morning, black robe or no.

There was a splash, and she turned to see the familiar, steel-haired form of Jarah making his way up the submerged ladder next to the pile of crates that would hopefully put him out of view of the soldiers.

"You're late," she hissed as he reached the top. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Apologies," he said tiredly. "There was an attempt on some visitors’ lives—the Outlander, Doctor Charlie, and their friends. I was needed at the Truthfinding."

"Are they OK?" asked Terevir.

Terevir had met the doctor once, in the aftermath of the attack when she had shown up at the Sisterhood's healing house and saved many lives, not only the injured, but the slaves she had removed the brands of too. Terevir had realised what she was doing only when the small girl she'd been caring for, Nessah, was being loaded onto the cart for transport to Guildport and she'd suddenly realised the hateful mark on Nessah’s little arm was gone.

Not that she had admitted that during the inquest into whether or not the Sisterhood had knowingly aided in the break. The Viceroy hadn't been able to prove anything, and didn't have the political power to go directly against the Abbess who had spent significant political capital getting the charges buried. However, the Sisterhood was now being watched closely, which was why Terevir was so worried about getting caught feeding information to the Sapient Emancipation League.

"Fine—a bunch of foolish youths; no match for a group of Spirit-touched," said Jarah, shaking his wet head. "But we should be quick."

"Here," she said, drawing the envelope filled with observations out of her robes and passing it to him. "There've been more warships coming in, and rumour has it that the Empress has dispatched troops—but I haven't been able to confirm it."

"Worrying," said Jarah, pocketing the bespelled water-proof paper. "Anything else?"

"People are definitely noticing that slaves are escaping in unusual numbers," said Terevir. "No one seems to have figured out however you're doing it. But they've definitely noticed, and they're not happy about it."

Terevir had her suspicions about how slaves were escaping and knew where they must be going, but she hadn't, and wouldn't ask. Her role was to provide information, that was the best she could do in the position she had at the moment, and her knowing more than she needed to was a risk they didn't need to take. It was enough to know she was helping.

"Good," said Jarah with a nod.

"They're safe?" she asked after a pause.

"They're safe," he said with a smile, putting a hand on her shoulder. "And your intelligence helps us greatly. Thank-you, Sister."

"Good luck," she said.

The merfolk man nodded, and then slid back down the ladder, vanishing beneath the waves a moment later. She watched the turbulent waters for a few moments, before turning and making her way back down the pier. There were many docked ships sheltering from the storm, their hatches battened down and a few flickering lights visible through the portholes.

The soldiers were still playing cards when she reached the customs house, and she got a suspicious look from one of them—a lieutenant, but they didn't stop her as she passed into the town proper.

She'd come to Port Imperial three years earlier, a wide-eyed girl eager to spread the Word of the Goddess to this strange new land. She'd dreamt of teaching the locals, the Merfolk and the Caith, about Her wisdom and mercy. In her fantasies the indigenous peoples had been eager to join the community of the faithful. A fresh new world, removed from the stifling old where they could perhaps build something kinder, something better.

Instead, she'd found a harsh and brutal town, with all the same problems of the old world magnified by the intense violence of the plantation system. The Viceroy indulged the Sisterhood to an extent, allowed them to minister to the poor and the slaves, and officially endorsed their preaching to the savages, but in practice the Merfolk were less than interested in the Goddess, or else placed her simply as one powerful spirit amongst many, and the Caith had killed the last group of Sisters who'd gone into the jungle to try and find them.

And although she had cried for her Sisters, the more she saw, the more she understood why the Caith hated them so much. She'd seen the green bodies strung up as warnings at the perimeters of the outer plantations, observed the smoke rising inland as the army went and sacked and burnt their camps. The Viceroy might have claimed to be pious, to be following the Goddess' word, but she was without compassion or mercy; her guiding star was greed and avarice—like the rest of the damned wretched empire.

Terevir passed through the main street, heading towards the abbey. A few of the shops were still open, despite the lashing rain and the gathering dark, but most were closed, and quite a few even boarded up. The new Imperial Tax rate had come into force three weeks earlier, a rise of a full ten percent for dhampir, and twenty five percent for non-dhampir. Many of the craftspeople and small businesses—particularly the kobolds and beastkin—already doing it tough in the aftermath of the Caith attack on the town and the downturn in sugar production, had been driven out of business: some unable to repay unwise loans taken out during the earlier boom-time, or else deciding that they'd try their luck somewhere else.

Port Imperial had never been a kind place, but it felt even colder since the new Empress had ascended to the throne. For all his faults, the Late Emperor had made some efforts to soften Mercia, whereas Vikavir was nothing but a tyrant.

A shout pulled her from her rumination, and she turned towards an alleyway where she had heard the noise come from, and through the gloom she could see four figures—three unmistakably dhampir, all women, and one beastkin man with a cat-like tail who was pinned against the wall.

"I-I'm a freeman!" he said as the trio loomed up against him. "My- my father is a dhampir! The- the law says-"

"‘The law says,’ does it?" mocked one of the women, grabbing him by the shirt. There was a loud rip as the garment tore and he stumbled and fell. The trio laughed, and a second woman grabbed the man's tail by the base, making him yelp him pain.

"Aww, does kitty not like that?" said the third. "Well, maybe he should have stayed inside-"

"Hey!" shouted Terevir, striding towards them. The trio, who were perhaps a few years younger than she was, looked up. "Leave him alone!"

"Piss off, nun," said the first woman. "This doesn't concern you."

"Since I have an appointment with this man, it certainly does," said Terevir, trying to project confidence and strength and authority. "Begone, before I call the soldiers."

The trio looked at each other. Terevir tensed. If they called her bluff then there wouldn't be much she could do. All three of them had rapiers at their hips, and judging by their clothes they were probably the children of rich merchants. The soldiers would not side with Terevir, let alone the beastkin, over them.

"Eh, he’s not even worth it,” said the second after a few moments. “We’ll find some other animal.”

Terevir's lip curled as the trio slunk off down the alleyway. Sexual violence wasn't uncommon towards beastkin, she knew that, but she'd never seen it happen in the street before. Was that just happenstance, or were things really getting even worse in the port?

"Thank-you, Sister," said the cat-featured man, bowing his head. "Goddess bless you. I- they were going to…" He shuddered. "I… I just moved here, with my father. I didn't… I didn't realise it wasn't safe to be out after dark. I'm Corvar."

"I'm Sister Terevir," she said with a strained smile, offering her hand and helping him up. "Why don't I make sure you get home safely?"

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