The young priest collapsed into the dust, his entire body shaking so hard his teeth clicked, his bladder completely failing him as he wet himself right there on the sacred marble.
Julian calmly let go of the fabric, dusting off his palms as if he had just moved a heavy piece of furniture. He looked down at the cowering council. He had made his point.
"Bleaching your hair until it rots," Julian said, his voice dropping into a clear, cutting lecture. "Forcing your eyes to turn grey at such a young age through toxic drops, restricting your diets until your bones are brittle... the God of Light did not ask for a single one of those things to be done. You call it discipline, but you are simply punishing your own flesh for the sake of an appearance. That is not what he asked of you."
The entire Inner Sanctum went dead silent. The only sound left in the hall was the shallow, terrified breathing of the priest on the floor and the faint crackle of heat from the crater.
