Claws

Nargis ran behind the pillars. She was lightheaded, hed sudden palour noticeable only by Pisto, who watched after her. She crinkled her dress in a fist as she walked down the stairs and out of the balcony. Her eyes left widened as soon as the foreign man took his leave. She looked once at the grand hall of the temple before running into her room, closing the door after herself.

Pisto knocked on the door, desperate for an answer to a question he did not yet ask.

"Is something wrong, your grace?" He asked with as much caution as he could force.

A sharp breath from the other side. Then silence.

Pisto reached for the handle, testing it gently. It wasn't locked. "Let me inside," he pleaded.

The door creaked open just enough for him to see her. Her fingers trembled against her own arms. There was sweat at her temples, but her skin—her skin was too pale, almost translucent.

"What happened?" He asked the priestess and bent himself o meet her gaze. As softly as he could, as comforting as he could be.

"I—I can't feel my skin. I think i should be falling ill again." Said she. Her hands went to her hair, and she pulled at it. It seemed to sting her at her neck.

"But that's impossible— The Great Priest took away your illness. You've not been taken ill since—" he said but was interrupted.

"Be silent!! I can't— I can't feel my skin—or my mind— or my breath!" The priestess said with a sharp gasp, beating her chest with one hand and holding uo her hair in another.

Pisto was taken aback. "Should I get help?"

"No!" She forbid him. And when she looked up, he saw that stare, reddened and full of unshed tears.

"You— did you see something? With the foreigner?" He asked, his hands in the air, preparing himself to take hold of her in case she collapses.

"I want—" she said before she fell to the floor, not unconscious in her mind. Her hands took hold of her face, and she began clawing at her face, her nails peeling away the skin of her face.

"Help me!" Sbe said as she convulsed uncontrollably. Pisto fell to his knees, calling everyone to help as he held her hands down, preventing her from peeling herself away.

The priest held his daughter down as they all sang hymns and chants. Nothing they did worked. Louder and louder they got but Nargis convulsed in her chair as if taken by a demon. Her body not in her control. And when they finally held her down and put her to sleep, the priest couldnt help but cry at his foolishness. He sincerely assumed that he had taken away her illness and had cured her. She had not felt the effects of her illness for a few years now. Now that it had returned he couldn't help but feel guilt. Once he thought he had escaped the decree, the horrible bond that had threatened his beliefs, the decree that the devil Harbinger had brought to his home and now he felt that he had fallen to his schemes.

"Do not disturb the priestess," he ordered as he closed the door to her room and walked away. All those that stood around him were horror stricken, the mother to the priestess cupped her mouth to avoid sobs from escaping. And the Eunuch Pisto stood with his head bowed as if ashamed of his inability to help. He wouldn't show, but he had been sobbing quitely as the priest tried to rid Nargis of her demons, her mind numb from feeling and emotion.

Pisto was scared, that the priest would ask him his account of how everything happened. But he couldn't tell him. No.

He saw with his own eyes, and heard with his own ears as she broke into tears and called his name.

"Hanno Galloway. Hanno. Hanno."

Perhaps it was the first thing on her mind as she was taken by her illness, but as the other servants approached, he scurried to her side and shut her mouth so that none of them heard what he did.

...

Hanno slid into the backseat of the car, the leather creaking softly beneath him. The engine hummed to life, and the driver pulled away from the temple. But as the car rolled forward, a searing pain erupted across Hanno's face, as though invisible nails were clawing at his skin. He winced, his hand instinctively flying to his cheek, and glanced into the rearview mirror. Streaks of red marred his face, vivid and raw. The driver's eyes flicked to the mirror, widening in horror, but he said nothing, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel as he pressed the car faster toward home.

Hanno grunted, his jaw tightening as the pain intensified, a burning sensation climbing his neck and face. The driver, now visibly anxious, rushed down the streets, the city lights blurring into streaks as they sped through the night. When they finally arrived at the manor, the car screeched to a halt, and Hanno pushed the door open, stepping out unsteadily. His father, Mr. Galloway and Aidos were already there, taking a walk in the gardens of the Galloway manor, suddenly taken by the speed of the car and immediate halt. The two were taken with concern as they rushed to his side.

Aidos reached him first, his hands gripping Hanno's shoulders firmly. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice low but urgent. "Did my father do this to you? Oh, he's truly sunk this far! He's done it this time!"

Hanno shook his head, his expression calm despite the streaks of red still visible on his face. "No," he said simply, his voice steady. "It's nothing. I just need to go to my room."

Mr. Galloway's eyes narrowed at the marks across his son's face, observing with an obscure skepticism. "Nothing?" he echoed. "This doesn't look like nothing, Hanno."

But Hanno was already moving, brushing past them. He climbed the steps to the manor, his footsteps echoing into the halls. Aidos and Mr. Galloway exchanged a glance, but they did not follow. Hanno disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, his figure swallowed by the dim light.