For all of her young life, Catherine had only known a doomed world. Generations ago, several cataclysmic events befell the world of Aon, leaving many scrambling for survival in their wake. Civilization, in its desperation, had taken refuge in the soaring peaks of the Forbidden Mountains, where each summit serves as its own sovereign state, separated by the treacherous mystical fog that threatens to consume all below.

Within these sequestered sanctuaries, life continues amidst the vanishing ruins of what came before.

On the northern mountain of Ophelia, within the village of Misyrea, the start of a ceremony was underway. The entire village had congregated, a sea of bodies swirling in a joyous celebration, adorned in lavish decorations and bathed in the warm glow of hundreds of candles and the full moonlight streaming in through open windows.

The silver and blue robes of the priests and priestesses shimmered in the multicolored light, their faces painted with intricate lines and jagged angles. Echoes of exotic melodies wafted through the air, crafted by skillful hands of traveling musicians. The celebrants lost themselves in the beat of the music, and Catherine, the center of it all, was surrounded by dancing, singing, laughter, and games. The air was electric with delight.

However, Catherine clearly longed for the night to end. She cut a stark contrast to her peers, clad in all-black chimera leather adorned with chains and metal spikes. While others wore bright colors and jewelry, her black hair was hastily brushed, and her simple makeup seemed made only to draw attention to scars on the left side of her face.

She didn't laugh. She didn't smile. Every invitation she was given to join in the festivities was politely but firmly declined.

She glared with defiance at peers that had mostly already joined the priesthood, most of them taking care to only glare back when the public couldn't see. As far as the guests were concerned, they were all happy for her. In truth her fellow acolytes had rarely ever spoken kindly to her, and only where others could hear them. She knew this dance well, yet put minimal effort into this facade of pleasantry, no matter how many nice things they suddenly had to say. Here in a haven for worshipers of the God-Dragon of Creation, to deviate from expected cordiality would risk their social standing.

Yet as she wove her way through the throngs of celebrants, she couldn't help but notice three people huddled in a shadowy corner, speaking in hushed tones, their behavior out of place amidst the euphoria. One of them, a scowling, heavyset woman, sneered, "So, the abomination has finally decided to accept some responsibility."

"I knew the high priest would finally break that rebellious spirit of hers," a woman with hair braided tightly into a bun remarked, "A shame he couldn't fix her warped mind."

Catherine kept her eyes on the ground, her steps in time with the surrounding crowd. She had a gift for blending in despite her appearance, a skill she had honed since childhood, when standing out often resulted in bullying. A price she paid too often, as her controversial opinions were far from well-guarded secrets.

"But did you see what she's wearing? Ugh," scoffed another, a woman with short curly hair. "She makes me sick. No wonder she doesn't have any friends."

"Just be thankful she isn't wearing anything that shows off that hideous skin of hers," said the scowler.

The woman with the bun chimed in, "I heard she cuts herself on purpose."

Kaera, a blonde woman Catherine recognized, joined the group and added, "Her head just isn't right. Should be thrown out of town before she kills someone. Probably already has."

The curly-haired woman interjected, "Remember her illicit relations with Rachael? Catherine started her down the path that got that red-haired devil exiled."

The scowler sneered, "Trading her body for drugs, disgusting."

Catherine felt her fists clench involuntarily at the mention of Rachael. This rumor was especially stinging, as even those spreading it knew it was false. A lie told so often that the truth no longer held any meaning. Rachael was neither whore nor addict, and was only retroactively exiled after she had already left of her own accord. No one remembered her, the person Catherine had looked up to most, as anything other than an outcast to be shunned.

"She's sick," said Kaera, "Nothing but a demented pervert that preys on other women, same as that slut, Rachael."

"She doesn't belong here," said the woman with curls.

"Belongs in the myst after what she threatened to do to Fran!" continued Kaera. "And everyone knows she was behind those fires, no matter what dragons or hippogriffs or whatever the crazies claimed to see. Should be locked up or thrown away. If I could I'd teach her a thing or two. Probably wouldn't do her any good, though. People that are like her, their minds are broken. Too stupid to learn. Still needs a few more good floggings, she does. Only thing that ever got through that ugly head of hers. Her and that filthy whore. That pervert's probably at a barn somewhere, spreadin' her legs for the animals, now."

Catherine's heart tightened with each venomous word, her once steady pace faltering as the barrage of insults rained down upon her. She and Rachael had been the target of ridicule for as long as she could remember, constantly being reminded of their deviance from the prescribed path. She missed Rachael terribly, but their friendship was often twisted into something depraved, simply because they didn't conform. And now, Kaera's vicious words struck a particularly raw nerve.

Before the group continued their insults, Catherine pushed her way through the others to step up to Kaera. The woman looked at her with disdain as Catherine said, "Rachael was a blessing upon this place. A better person than any of the people here. Say what you will about me, but I won't tolerate any more of your lies about her. Not today."

Kaera spat in her face.

Before Catherine knew what she was doing, Kaera was on the floor, missing a tooth and bleeding from its absence. Her expression, filled with shock, anger, and disbelief, made the pain in Catherine's knuckles well worth it.

A group quickly formed to separate them. One man wrenched Catherine's arms up behind her while another picked her up by the legs. Those around them stood back, either acting afraid as they moved away, or feigning offense at Catherine's public display of violence.

"You all saw! She's evil! Heretic! Hereetiiic!" Kaera shrieked as they led her out of the room.

Catherine remained silent as they carried her to a door on the opposite side and threw her in front of a large desk, where High Priest Samuel sat. In his early forties, the stress of his position had left him with greyish hair and deep wrinkles. He looked at Catherine with annoyance, as he always did, and let out a sigh. "What have you done now?" he demanded.

One of the men told him what happened, speaking in Dragōnish, a language allowed to be taught only to those that held rank in the priesthood. His account ended with something that seemed a bit strange; "It was as you thought. The abomination couldn't hold back its anger. It fell for the provocation easily." Catherine didn't say a word to this, and gave no sign of her secret studies of the forbidden tongue.

"Cathy, Cathy," the priest lamented, shaking his head in disappointment. "Is it too much to ask for a single day without disgrace?"

Catherine looked at him and reluctantly said, "I apologize for my unruly behavior. My anger threatens to get the better of me every time I watch the administrators of this temple show their true faces."

The priest sighed as he took a sheet of paper from his desk and began to write. "And what could you possibly mean by their true faces, Cathy?" he said. "We've spoken of this delusion before. Our priesthood represents honesty and purity."

Catherine tried to hold her tongue, but couldn't stop herself from muttering, "Hypocrisy, more like."

The priest paused his writing for a moment and said, "And what stirs you to say something like that? Explain in detail for me, so that perhaps I can begin to understand where these outbursts keep coming from."

There was cold silence before Catherine spoke up. "The priesthood is quick to judge others based on morality. Yet when no one is there to judge them, their immoral acts are a common sight. Rachael and I have been tripped, pushed, mocked and ridiculed by almost everyone here, but they'll tell you they don't even know the meaning of those words."

"You are treated far better than most in your situation," the priest said dismissively.

Catherine raised her voice. "Yes, better than those who gathered here dreaming of the secure life promised by the temple, only to be shuffled into slums outside the gates. Slums that are worse than the squalor they left behind! Unlike them, I don't have to kill vermin for food and brave the myst to collect soiled water."

She knew that he didn't actually care, but continued anyway. "We inside the gate sell false hope to those outside in the form of worthless trinkets that do nothing we claim them to. Those that have to sleep in the streets are lucky to avoid being arrested so others don't have to look at them. Vandalism inside the gates is punished severely, while murders outside often go uninvestigated. Cruelty, selfishness, and greed are common sights among the priesthood. No one here is perfect, yet they all claim to be. Look at Kaera! She claims to be honest and pure, but willingly spreads horrible lies. Lies about someone that actually believed in the values you all pretend to!"

She looked at the priest again, her anger rising from his silence as he continued to write. "You only took me because you could use me. An act to keep up this illusion of compassion. But what of the other orphans right outside our walls, begging for scraps? You may have kept me alive but I was never one of you. My way of repaying you is by playing along with this mind game and pretending to believe it. As a priestess, I intend to change things. I may be the first person to actually live up to the title instead of pretending to do so. And my name is Catherine! I know you'll never fully accept me as one of the priesthood but once this night is over you could at least address me without your false affection!"

He gave a quick, meaningful look to the men that brought her in, and turned back to Catherine.

"I've had it!" he yelled loudly enough for those outside to hear, "Time and time again I have excused your insolent behavior, but no more. Today was your one chance at salvation, to take the oath and dedicate yourself to this temple and the great Rea. Your whole life we trained you for this. Someday you could've even inherited protection of the terrible sword you were named after."

He took a deep breath. "But there is no end to your arrogance, your disrespect! I give up on you. I disown you. Begone! Leave this temple and the people that would have been your family. Leave us at once and never return. This is your home no longer!"

"And just where am I supposed to go?" she asked.

"In the gutters, where you belong. You speak of hypocrisy as if you aren't guilty yourself. As if you ever declined the clean bed and fine meals we gave. Live among the peasants you hold in such high regard. But know this, should you ever set foot inside the walls again, I will have you cast into the valley, to be consumed by the horrors of the myst." He lifted up the paper he had been writing on, so all could see that it was an official declaration of excommunication. Then he slammed it back onto the desk. "By my authority, you are hereby exiled!"

Catherine stood stunned.

For her entire life, the temple had been her only home, but now, with a single pronouncement, she was cast out into the unknown. She was surprised at the lack of emotion she felt. Where was the urge to defend herself, to argue for her right to remain in this place that had been her home for so long?

Instead, she turned and stormed out the door, shoving the men out of her way.

The crowd outside instantly began a show of pretending not to have been eavesdropping on the short argument. It surprised none of them to hear of Catherine's exile. It was a long time coming. But despite herself, Catherine felt a pang in her heart at the relief on their faces and in their whispering voices.

But she kept her head held high and walked with pride toward the main door. "You heard correctly!" she said to them all. "The abomination isn't going to corrupt your pathetic system by becoming a priestess. Now you really have a reason to celebrate!"

With a final roar of defiance, she tilted her head back and laughed like a crazed demon as she stormed from the temple, leaving her past and everything she had ever known behind.