Seventh of Ioannes
 Peer Moderation.
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A vysstichi in the happy little island was not unheard of, and Keeva knew it. There had been a reason why she’s been sent there. His name was Maris, and he was a necromancer, a male, a vysstichi, and once upon a time he’d once caused a priestess the smallest annoyance. Haya’s, however, have long memories, and the dark faith had a reach that most were unaware of. Information, it flowed like water, secrets moved from the hills of nobles, of emperors, and it always settled in the low places, among the poor, in the dark.
The vysstichi heard many things, whispers, rumblings in the empire, and Keeva, she was their hand in the sun soaked world. She’d been told of the
wards that made her human, of the magic and lies that made her dangerous, and allowed to leave the dark place.
Keeva Kaldres had a home among the vysstichi, and she had a job to do on the little island.
A month ago her brother found her. He was hurt, hiding in the home she shared with a dragon. The guard was after him, but he’d been there, with a letter from home.
The temple had become aware of a vysstichi, one that had escaped the city. He was a male, a practitioner of necromancy, and an affront to the faith. It was all outlined by her mother, along with news of home. Her sister was pregnant, with some filth half breed child. Her mother had been honored at a mass, a service dedicated in her name.
She wished her youngest could have been there. Love was wrong, or so the faith claimed, but there was respect in the few pages, and a hope that the girl would take care.
Take care and send back Maris’ violet eyes. Priestesses had long memories, and with Keeva, they had a slightly longer reach.
All the young woman had to do was kill the males and end their wrongs.
(ooc: Posting with Ragman's okay... i think...)