Eyes blinked open to a dimly lit room. It took a long moment for Sungjoo to realize that he was no longer in his own chambers in Kergisa's temple and instead he lay somewhere at the supposed mercy of the priests of Siakera. He shifted to lift a hand to brush his shaggy hair from his eyes, and that was when he realized that his wrists were bound to his sides.

Panic set in and he began to thrash about on the bed, only to find that his ankles were tied as well and there was no hope of escape. The commotion must have alerted someone, because after he lay still for a moment, catching his breath, the door to the small room opened. The high priest of Siakera entered then, his long face showing relief as he took in Sungjoo's condition.

"Good, you didn't hurt yourself," he said softly, stepping closer to the bed where the assassin was bound. He snarled up at the priest, knowing that the man's concern was more likely for himself; if Sungjoo had gotten free, the man would surely be dead.

"Are you hungry?" he asked softly, drawing up a stool to take a seat beside the bed. When there was no answer forthcoming, he sighed and ran a hand through thick, slightly wavy black hair. "I am not your enemy," he said, his voice ever so quiet as he looked down at his hands on his lap. "Siakera is not your enemy. She loves all and helps any."

"Bull," Sungjoo retorted before he could stop himself. He had been determined to not say a word, to offer the priest nothing, but he couldn't let that last lie stand. "She only helps those who it benefits her to help."

Instead of shouting at him for his sacrilege, the priest only shook his head gently. "I don't know what happened to cause you such anger, but I assure you, that is not the case. She gives me the power to help people in her name, how would that be of any benefit to her? She gets nothing in return for her healing except that people are happy and healthy and safe. I think you have a misunderstanding of her," he added, which only earned a dirty look from Sungjoo.

"I think you're a jaded piece of crap who uses her power to your own means. Nothing is for free, priest, you can't possibly be stupid enough to think so."

The other man only smiled, his full lips curving up into a gentle admonishment. "I suppose, then, I am stupid in your eyes, because I truly do believe that her help is for free. I will be back," he added, standing up once again and picking up the stool to place it back beside the wall. "If you need anything, ask for me. My name is Yixuan."

"I don't care who you are, priest," he spat, but the man was already closing the door. Sungjoo fought against his binds once more in an effort to free himself, but it was to no avail. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he took in the room for the first time. 

Plain brown, wooden walls, and a plain brown wooden door. It was a bare room in all, with just a small, single bed placed against one wall in which the assassin himself now lay. A small stool and table were against the wall beside the door, only enough room for one person to eat or write something, with a single candle on top of it. Either the followers of Siakera were complete ascetics or they had stuck him in a back room of the temple, out of sight and out of mind. He honestly hoped it was the latter because at least then, he would have a hope for escape. The less attention paid to him, the better.

Looking down at his wrists, he saw that he was tied with a simple leather thong around each one, secured to the bed frame. His ankles, from what he could see from his position, were secured the same way, and that gave him hope. Leather could be worn and stretched: all he needed was patience. 

Patience itself had never been his strong suit, nor had he ever been enough of a devout follower to pray, but after the display he'd gone through in the main temple, he felt that maybe he ought to touch base with his goddess. See if she could get him out of this sticky situation, as it were. 'Dark Lady?' he thought, but when there was no answer, he cleared his throat and hesitantly repeated it out loud. 

It didn't matter e