18th of Rain's Hand

Bravil Town Square

"There he is!"

Sal-Gheel froze at the familiar furious voice piercing through the otherwise quiet morning air. He turned around from the Lucky Old Lady…and flinched.

A trio of Town Guards were leading away three recognizable figures in a line. Captain Gemanius stood at the front, with two others behind him. Each Guard held one of their prisoner's cuffs.

He recognized the figures in an instant: a male Bosmer, and a female Redguard and Khajiit. They all stopped as soon as the Bosmer pointed out the lone hatchling.

"There you are, you little squealer!" Engndir spat in Sal-Gheel's direction. The hatchling flinched at his aggressive words. He threw himself at the Argonian, only for his chains and Gemanius' vice grip to hold him back. "You did this to us! This is your fault!"

"Ratted us out to the Town Guard, did you?" Ysirsandra thrashed against her cuffs, seething at the hatchling. Approllaise held her back by the shoulders. "Blabbed about us to the Count and Countess? I knew we should've shut you up when we had the chance!"

"You won't get away with this, sakhliit!" Moajma growled and bared her fangs. Wrathful tongues of fire blazed in her eyes. Herisius tightened his grip around her wrists. "We'll break out and hunt you down! And when we do…"

She lowered her gaze to glare daggers at her former prey. "We'll make you wish you'd never been born!"

"Maybe you'll wish you'd never been born while you're rotting in the dungeons!" the imprudent Sal-Gheel blurted out while descending the Lucky Old Lady's dais to the ground.

"Excuse me?!" Engndir fumed back, struggling against the chains which Gemanius bound his wrists. "Did we give you permission to speak, you slag?! When it's your turn to speak, we'll give you permission! Until then, hold your tongue, or we'll cut it out!"

The word struck Sal-Gheel like a dagger into his heart. He backed away from the trio, trembling, and stepped up again in front of the Lucky Old Lady.

"I'm…I'm not…I'm not a…"

"How dare you try to get revenge on such a young spirit!" Gemanius seized Engndir by the shoulders and spun the Bosmer around to face him. "What gives you the right to call him by such a name?!"

"But it's true, ain't it?" Engndir grinned from ear to ear, sadistically shameless. "He got laid and touched by all three of us! I didn't even think children were active at his age!"

"Active at his–he's barely eight years old!" The Captain roared in the Wood Elf's face. Engndir's grin only widened and he let out a hearty sadistic laugh. "What kind of sick, twisted, perverted minds do you even have in those concrete skulls of yours?!" He scowled and gritted his teeth. "Besides, you didn't even answer my questions."

"Oh, come on!" Ysirsandra stamped her foot in the dirt. "He ran in our direction! We almost got him completely naked if it weren't for that damn loincloth! Come on, don't deny that he was asking for it!"

"Almost eight years old, you said?" a piqued Moajma leaned to one side. Her eyes widened and eyebrows raised at the captain's statement. "He's still got plenty of time before he's actually active!"

She looked across at the retreating hatchling, who now stood beneath the feet of the Lucky Old Lady. The Khajiit maiden licked her lips at him. Her lustful eyes roved over his body from head to toes to tail, stopping at his crotch.

"Then we can still have him until he's, what, fifty?"

"If we could get free of these stupid chains, we could all take him! Right here, right now!" Ysirsandra leaned over to one side to try to glimpse the hatchling's rear end, wolf whistling. "He's only seven years old. That means that he's still got plenty of life ahead of him! Lots of time to be molded into a real freak in the sheets, if you know what I mean!"

"Idiots…" Approllaise facepalmed and let out a sigh of frustration. "You criminals are all the same. Always trying to blame your victims instead of taking responsibility for what you did! We're surrounded by idiots, Captain!"

"I'll see you all rot in the dungeons for this!" Gemanius raged and gave the three predators a dark glare.

"Sal-Gheel!"

Sal-Gheel turned over his shoulder. He deflated in relief at the sight of Saint Heinoke and Bovkianne exiting the chapel and coming towards him.

"That's them!" He pointed a finger of condemning accusation at the three predators who stood chained in front of him. "They're the ones who hurt me yesterday!"

"You!" Heinoke burst with unleashed fury; a Nord's warrior fury. "You had no right to rob this innocent child of his Hist-given purity!" He knelt down to take the frightened Sal-Gheel into his arms.

"How could you do this to him?" Bovkianne stood below the Lucky Old Lady and gestured to the hatchling, glowering at the three predators. "He was only coming to our chapel for sanctuary and food! He didn't plan on running into your clutches!"

"Didn't plan on it?" Moajma responded with a callous laugh. "Don't make Moajma laugh! You can't parade meat in front of a Senche-raht and expect it not to pounce!"

"Sal-Gheel Calidaseer is not a piece of meat!" Bovkianne countered, pointing a reprimanding finger at the Khajiit. "He is a Saxhleel with an extraordinary connection to the Eight Divines!"

"You would know that if you actually took the time to get to know him!" the furious Heinoke added, wrapping an arm around Sal-Gheel's shoulders and the other around his waist. "Instead of treating him like an object!"

"You know, now that I think about it," Ysirsandra thought aloud, as though she had not heard what the Breton had said. "It doesn't matter if we get locked up in the dungeons. We're still going to keep thinking about you, Argonian!"

She leaned in Sal-Gheel's direction and puckered up her lips for a kiss. "I'll dream of you sitting naked in my lap, wrapped in my arms, and tangled between the blankets and bedsheets! Our lips and bodies locked together in lust's embrace!" She looked at his crotch and licked her lips.

"Oof!" Engndir laughed, heartless and mocking. "What a burning hot fantasy, Ysirsandra! Even better if he dances and strips first, before he sits in your lap! Ow, ow, ow!"

"Ahhh…." Moajma closed her eyes and lifted them dreamily up towards the sky. "Such blissful, sensual, heavenly dreams, my friends…Just thinking about them is enough to bring Moajma to—"

"All right, that's enough!" Herisius's bark broke the Khajiit out of her dreams. Moajma snapped her eyes open and stuck her tongue out at the Guard, petulant at having been snapped out of her erotic reverie. "Delusional psychopaths…" he murmured under his breath.

"No, Ysirsandra has a point!" Engndir raised his voice, turning to nod at the Redguard. "It's what he deserves! That hatchling boy doesn't exist to serve anyone or anything…but us!"

"Aye!" Moajma agreed, nodding vigorously. "He belongs to us!"

"Right, slut?" Engndir yelled.

"Slag!" Ysirsandra added.

"Boy-whore!" Moajma spat at Sal-Gheel, her nostrils flaring. "Dirty, filthy, wretched little child harlot!"

"No!" Sal-Gheel broke into a pained, terrified sob. Fresh stinging tears burned his eyes. "That's-that's not what I am!"

"Now you've gone and done it!" Gemanius roared at the top of his lungs. He forced Engndir to face forward again, clenching the Wood Elf's cuffs. "You've stolen the last vestiges of the boy's innocence! It's the dungeons for life for the whole lot of you!"

"How dare you!" Bovkianne exploded, curling her hands into fists. "You monsters! If I didn't have the discipline of the Divines upon me, I'd rip you all limb from limb! Turning a righteous little child into your own personal pet! I've never heard such profane language in all my life!" She retreated to the dais and knelt on Sal-Gheel's other side, wrapping her arms around him.

"Oblivion take you all!" Heinoke placed a hand on the back of Sal-Gheel's head. The hatchling buried his horrified, tear-stained face in the Nord's shoulder. "You are not worthy of the love of Mother Mara! Dibella herself would be ashamed of your corruption of her sacred ways!"

"Next time we see you again, boy," Engndir warned, seething at the boy. "You'd better be wearing something sexy, like your loincloth! Or better yet…nothing at all!"

"That's it! I've heard enough!" Gemanius kicked Engndir hard in the back. The Wood Elf grunted but broke into a brisk walk, still fighting the tightening grip on his chains. "Off to the dungeons, now!"

"Curses of Ius the Extremely Agitated upon you, Argonian!" Engndir raged at Sal-Gheel, stumbling at Gemanius' rough handling.

"Satakal devour you!" Ysirsandra rasped, before Approllaise clamped her hand around the Redguard's mouth.

"Boethra stab you in your sleep!" Moajma snarled as Herisius dragged her away.

That was the last Sal-Gheel or anyone else ever saw or heard of them.

"Sal-Gheel!" Bovkianne and Heinoke cried out when the Argonian broke free of them and sprinted towards the chapel.

He burst in through the chapel doors and hurried around into the pit. He didn't even acknowledge the clergy standing there amongst the nave.

In the Chapel Hall, Aravayana lifted her crate of fruits and vegetables over her head to avoid hitting him. Mathnude, who'd been taking inventory of the sacristy, threw his clipboard and quill in the air in surprise as the hatchling bolted through.

Sal-Gheel retreated into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. He slumped onto the floor, holding a hand to his stomach to catch his breath.

He flinched at the sudden knock. "Sal-Gheel?" The gentle concerned voice of Priestess Sirimgeira came from outside, like a wave of comfort.

"I'm not what they say I am!" Sal-Gheel shouted over his shoulder at the door.

"We only want to help you, Sal-Gheel," Sirimgeira answered, soft and empathetic. "Can you please let us in?"

Sal-Gheel sighed and climbed to his feet to open the door. As the clergy filed inside, he threw himself upon his bed, burying his face into his head pillow.

"What's wrong, Sal-Gheel?" Valutinian sat down on the side of the bed. He rested a sympathetic hand on the hatchling's shoulder. "Did something happen outside?"

"Can you tell us what happened?" Sirimgeira asked Heinoke and Bovkianne. They related the happenings to her in explicit detail. She let out a gasp of shock and clapped her hand to her mouth at the mention of the derogatory names they had called him.

"Oh, Sal-Gheel…" She too approached the bed and sat down beside Valutinian. "I'm so, so, so sorry."

Everyone gasped when Sal-Gheel sat upright. His pillow was left stained with freshly-shed tears. The hatchling clasped at his head, his eyes wide and frantic, shifting away to the back wall.

"I'm…I'm not…I'm not a…"

"You are not what they said you are, Sal-Gheel," Valutinian reassured him. He offered his hands to the hatchling, who placed his trembling hands into the Primate's palms. "You're right. They didn't have any right to call you those evil names."

"Then why?!" he cried out, interlacing his fingers with Valutinian's. "Why did they call me those…things?!"

"I'm afraid there's no easy way to explain it, Sal-Gheel," Sirimgeira responded with a regretful sigh. "But they were trying to turn you into an object. Something less than yourself."

"But I'm…not an object…" Sal-Gheel cracked, trembling as he stared around at the adults. "…Am-am I?"

"No, Sal-Gheel," Aravayana sat down on the end of his bed, crossing her legs. "You are not what those people tried to make you. Deep down, you know that. You are far more special than they would have you believe."

"It's a classic deflection of blame," Heinoke sat down in Sal-Gheel's desk chair. "Trying to pin the fault on you so that they could get off clean of their wicked crime of profaning you."

The Nord gestured in the direction of the bedroom door. "But, as you took direct legal action, they didn't succeed."

"They wanted to try to make you feel ashamed of yourself," Mathnude sat beside Aravayana. "To make you feel as though you deserved to be molested."

"Believe it or not, Sal-Gheel," Romarcella leaned on the armoire wardrobe, arms folded over her chest. "You possess something those people will never have: a supernatural connection to the Eight Divines. We don't understand exactly what that entails yet; but rest assured, we will."

She gave him a comforting smile. "And when we do…it's going to change the whole world."

"So you see, Sal-Gheel," Valutinian took Sal-Gheel's hands in his own again. "None of what happened is your fault, my child."

"The gods know the difference." Bovkianne nodded in agreement. "As does the Hist, no doubt."

"I'm not—!" Sal-Gheel screamed at the tops of his lungs, and everyone flinched. "I'm not what they called me!" He cried out amidst a fresh new wave of tears. "I-I didn't want any of this to happen to me!"

"We know you didn't, Sal-Gheel," Aravayana put her hands on Sal-Gheel's shoulders. "We hear you, and we understand what you're saying."

"You need never feel afraid to speak your mind in our chapel, Sal-Gheel." Mathnude placed a hand on one of the hatchling's knees to comfort him. "When you are ready, you can tell us your story. We will listen to you, without judgment or condemnation or punishment."

"So, I-I'm n-n-not…" he stuttered, shaking mildly. His eyes were wide with shock. "I'm not those…" he gulped. "A…a….?"

He could scarce bring himself to state the words. The hatchling clutched at his head and again shut his eyes tight, trying to force back the memories of those hurled insults. No one shuddered more than the ladies of the clergy.

"No, Sal-Gheel," Romarcella pushed off the wardrobe and straightened up. "I think it's necessary to tell you that those names are deeply hurtful, especially to women." She drew near to Sal-Gheel's bed, level with Heinoke. "Therefore, you must always be careful that you never call anyone by those derogatory names."

"Don't worry, Sister Romarcella," Sal-Gheel nodded and sniffed. But he still did not open his eyes. "I won't."

"You did the right thing, reporting them to the Town Guard," Aravayana stroked Sal-Gheel's shoulders using her thumbs. "Now they'll likely be facing a life sentence in prison for their crime against you."

"I wish…" the hatchling dropped his voice to a whisper. "I didn't feel so dirty, and filthy, and impure."

"We will help you overcome these feelings," Sirimgeira sat down beside Valutinian. The hatchling opened one eye and nodded to acknowledge her. "For now, it's all right to feel this way, because your feelings are natural. It will take time to heal; it won't always be easy. But know that we're all here for you."

"You are more than your purity, virginity, and innocence," Bovkianne nodded, hands clasped at her waist. "And those other profane labels don't define you. You are a living blessing, Sal-Gheel, created and sent to us by the Eight Divines themselves."

"You are absolutely safe here, Sal-Gheel," Valutinian wiped the Argonian's tears away using his robe sleeves. Heinoke passed him a handkerchief from the desk, with which Sal-Gheel blew and wiped his nose. The Primate took the hatchling into his arms. "The Divines are here to protect you. And we're going to take care of you, too."

"No one…" the hatchling practically fell into the Primate's arms. His voice was soft, frightened, and cracked. "Nobody…will hurt me anymore?"

"We promise, Sal-Gheel," Valutinian cradled the child in his embrace. He put one arm around the boy's waist, and the other around his shoulders. "No one will ever harm you again."

Sal-Gheel took a moment to let all the words sink in. Then he sighed and nodded. He hugged each clergy member in turn.

"Thank you. I really needed this. Thank you all…so, so, so much."