As Laytalya had said no challenge came that night or even the next day. The caravan packed up with little fanfare and continued its way south. There was an undisguisable chill in the air however despite the temperature growing hotter with every mile closer to the desert they came. The mercenaries and merchants all treated him as air, going out of their way to avoid him, almost as if he were a leper or plague victim. Even Laytalya was keeping her distance but this was more at his insistence, no sense getting her tangled up in the priestess' little bitchfest.
It was well into the third day when Winston jogged up by the wagon Alexander sat on and tossed a rolled parchment to the young man's lap. Without a word the man gave the younger mage a look of regret before jogging on ahead to the carriages. Alexander gingerly lifted the scroll, the driver beside him looked panicked enough to leap from the wagon were he to try and unroll it now. Giving the worried man a reassuring smile he hopped down from the seat letting the poor guy breath a little easier. To be caught up in a formal challenge was not something the man ever wanted a part of, he'd rather risk breaking his neck than getting bound in whatever decree the priestess had sent over.
As the wagons rolled by his walking form, more and more curious gazes fell upon the fellow, or more precisely on the rolled parchment in his hands. From the way he walked beside the caravan the others were hard pressed to say the outsider was worrying, more the guy seemed to be waiting for something. As the trail of wagons continued on, more eyes watched Alexander keeping up with the wagons as best he could, yet still he had not opened the proclamation from the priestess, was he once more jeering her? Didn't most yank the damned missive open to get it over and done. It was like pulling off a poultice, just rip it off and get the worst of the pain in one go rather than draw it out!
Yet the pale necromancer ignored these looks and swiftly strode beside his assigned wagon, the parchment still in his fist, neither opened nor discarded. Various heads craned forward and back watching what was going on in confusion. Even Watson's face made a brief appearance before Winston's thick fist grabbed the younger brother by the scruff of the neck to yank his head back inside. Whispers traveled up and down the line, the pall of worry hung heavy over the drivers, such to the point the lead merchant rode back to consult with the priestess. A few minutes later a signal went up and down the line calling the wagons to an impromptu stop. There were still a few hours before they reached the border so this stop made people even more nervous. Especially so when her Holiness descended from her carriage flanked by Winston and Watson walked back down the line toward where a pale young mage casually rested against his wagon.
Melissa was seething with rage at this outsider that treated her so much like a dogs fart. "Sinner! Open the decree, or are you professing your submission without contest?!"
Alexander lifted his head looking evenly at Melissa, lifting his hand holding the parchment he smirked, "Why peruse something I know what states. My refusal to open this is more my dissatisfaction over the terms."
Melissa snarled, her body moving forward only to feel Winston's heavy hand on her shoulder, "How dare you make light if the Saints Faith decree sinner! The terms of the challenge are ceremonial and already gracious for the likes of you!"
Alexander smirked then did something that made everyone including Melissa have their jaws drop in shock. Hiking the back of his robe the young man proceeded to vigorously wipe his backside with the rolled parchment before flinging it in the priestess' face! What the hell?! Winston snd Watson almost fell over, Melissa was so gobsmacked she barely noticed the rolled parchment bouncing off the bridge of her nose to fall to the dirt at her feet. Just who had ever had the balls to wipe their ass with a church decree?! True it was more the back of his pants but the action in and of itself spat on the church's authority. Wasn't this young man afraid the great Saint would not smite him like a bug!!!
Alexander crossed his arms over his chest and spit downwards, unsurprising his aim was true and his phlegm landed on the parchment at their feet. "It reads something along the lines of the great majestic and innocent Melissa whatever the fuck the rest of your name is for three generations back, do here by challenge this sinner, name omitted since you never bothered to ask. Terms being the usual you stay a sinner but we won't publicly crusade against you or you forfeit your soul to be the lickspit slave of one over inflated wench in a habit. Sound more or less on point your holiness?"
"Problem I have is not accepting this challenge, rather its the terms. You have your sheep properly cowed to just blindly accept whatever your church pisses into their palms. Problem is... I'm not one of your flock. Your grand Saint means jack and shit to me, your backing be it house, bloodline or faith can't bully me. Got no friends or family you can throw your weight down on to force me to dance to your vomit. All you do have is terms, and sorry princess remaining a sinner to be privately assassinated later isn't an equal compensation. Nope, you pony up a good set of terms to interest me, or every challenge you deliver my way I'll line an outhouse with just to show you how little a damn I care about the Saints Faith influence."
The surroundings were more silent than a tomb, even Laytalya at some point during Alexander's little speech had slumped to her knees. They were dead. So very fucking dead. He didn't just do it on the priestess this time, no this time he did the equal if walking into a church and deficating on the main altar! This was madness! Insanity! Still, several in the crowd had to admit the boy did have a point. He was a foreigner, obviously not of the Faith, so exactly why did he have to just bow down to the Holy One? Would they be any quicker bowing to a priestess of another faith that had treated them like a sickly mongrel? Still as many were rationalizing the conflict the one directly challenged was clenching her teeth, the sound of grinding molars was faint but those around the priestess could hear those grinding teeth. When had anyone ever talked to her like this? When had a priestess ever been addressed like this? Simply put: Never! How dare this pale faced freak challenge the Saint's Faith!
Growling between her tightly clenched teeth she hissed at Alexander softly, "And what does a sinner deem a fitting term instead?"
Alexander smiled simply uncrissing his arms pointing at her right in the face. "Matching terms."
The watchers blinked, even Melissa looked confused as her narrowed eyes glared death at Alexander, "Say what you mean sinner!"
Alexander coughed and shrugged, "The decree states that if the church wins I am bound body and soul to the victor for whatever punishments they deem fit. Thus rather than the flimsy 'forgiveness' I desire the same condition as the church should I win. The loser, you, would become mine."
The watchers blanched but Melissa laughed haughtily, who would dare throw a stone upon her personage? Who would dare humiliate her publicly as the church had done to so many sinners? Nobody that's who! This male sinner was an idiot, he was demanding a prize that would never be realized even if my some stroke of cosmic alignment he won above her. Sneering she clasped her hands and whispered a prayer, the parchment gently unfolded and a golden quill began rewriting the words upon it. When it finished the parchment turned to bath Alexander its its holy light. "Does this satisfy the sinner's foolish demand?"
Alexander picked up the unfurled contract studying it carefully. As the son of a merchant this life his eyes raked the agreement from top to bottom and back to front. He even went so far as to activate his blood magic to shed tears of crimson as his enhanced vision scoured every line of fine print. Alexander was making sure no trap clauses were being snuck into the contract. Finally nodding he bit his thumb planting his blood mark upon the contract before turning it back to Melissa. The priestess smirked and whispered a prayer, a drop of radiant blood emerging from her forehead to seal the deal. "Sinner, tomorrow shall mark the anniversary of your death, you are a fool to challenge the clergy."
Alexander shrugged, he really wasn't impressed by her theatrics. All told the battle between him and her on the morrow would be challenging. She was undeniably an orange rank adventurer, two levels higher than himself. To mistake her as a paper tiger would prove his undoing, thus he would come at her fully. As for the tasks he could only hope he'd not end up in her tender mercies. Melissa struck him as a very sadistic and arrogant priestess, the way she handled church affairs was along the lines of a heavy mace rather than a deft knife. Nothing in her mannerisms displayed compassion or generosity, merely judgement and condemnation.
Moving off on his own Laytalya was the only one that still dared to come close to him. The rest looked at him with pity and more than a little anger. The Saint's Faith might be a major religion in Tress but it didn't matter to Alexander, were it not Melissa and another he would no sooner bow his head to them than her. Glancing at his companion as she sat nearby hugging herself he sighed, "Was I too rash?"
Laytalya grimaced and nodded briskly, wetness rimmed her dark eyes. "Very, you're only a green rank Alexander. She's orange. The chances of you beating her are so small the more boisterous drivers aren't even making wagers. Then there's the church itself, if you do kill her, however unlikely that is, the church would hunt you down. Watson and Winston are impressive but they're nothing compared to the paladins and justicarrs."
Alexander listened to the worried tilt in her voice, reaching over to stroke her head, curling against him the worry finally broke through and she started crying against his chest. Sighing helplessly, Alexander stroked her back. He had a plan for tomorrow. Several in fact. Soothing his worried companion his head snapped up as quiet footsteps padded closer. Alex's eyes settled on the brothers, the older's hand was lifted showing no desire to fight. While they were in her service they weren't blindly loyal. Still Winston felt it prudent to warn the young mage that Melissa would likely call upon them both to assist her during the challenge.
Laytalya rose wanting to curse and snarl but Alexander's fingers in her hair kept the over worried young woman pressed to his chest. Alexander was fully aware that the two would be part of the duel, while he could call on her seeing as she was his slave, he softly assured her such would not happen. Wether it was one on one or one versus three, he had his plans. Still Winston advised him, should it be beyond his means and still wanted his dignity that as the oldest he would shoulder the burden of striking a fatal blow to end the young man's suffering.
Alexander chuckled at that, thanking the pair for at least offering a slight mercy if not a reprieve. All was still within his thoughts. Still as the pair moved to return to the carriage Alexander asked, "By the way, Melissa didn't seem to initially be seeking me for trouble, what was her reason for approaching me to begin with?"
Watson chuckled glancing back at Alexander and shrugged helplessly, "We have a mission at our mutual destination. We checked with the guild for additional help and found out about you being a necromancer. Melissa was suppose to extend an invitation to join our mission but I guess she saw it as providing charity or a boon upon the lessers below her so she approached you as a superior rather than a potential ally. We figure she was planning to subjugate you as she did for us."
As the pair ambled off Alexander nodded to himself and absently stroked Laytalya atop her head. The plan for tomorrow was swiftly coming together. Smiling he looked to the carriage holding the priestess, he hoped she would not disappoint his expectations of her come the morning.