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Murmurs of approbation from the nobles and admiration from the common people reassured Lucien that perhaps Lucy had been serious in her intention after all.
"And yea, though we may face hardships, may we remember to pay homage to those who protect us," Lucy read.
"May we not forget our true place, our true station in life"
"May we give thanks and praise to the gods for their bounty and to the lords for their stewardship of the land and the riches in it."
Propaganda spilled sweetly from her lips, enchanting all who listened. This was the role of the Priestess, to sweeten the harsh mantle of feudalism with ornate words.
As she entered the call and response phase of the service, the congregation began to repeat after her.
"Let us remember to always follow what is planned for us."
Strong voices took up her words, raising them up with greater volume and power.
"Let us always remember our duties in the sight of the gods."
Again, the voices, thrilled with the glory of their gods and themselves repeated the words with conviction.
"And let us always remember that our hearts are the only real test of truth."
The congregation followed again, strongly, then trailing off as they realized that the words were unfamiliar. The Priestess had changed the high service!
"And let us never forget, the bounty of knowledge will set us free." Lucy continued, raising one arm high as if to offer praise to the gods. In her hands were three dark balls, which she cast violently down towards the floor of the temple.
With great booming sounds, they exploded and gas poured thickly from them. Deep, dark gas tinged with fingers of flame which set the congregation screaming and scrambling for the exits.
The few who had enjoyed the benefit of a higher education were less perturbed. Fire and smoke bombs were common experiments among students, though rarely were they so large or violent. Even those armed with knowledge were forced to hold perfumed 'kerchiefs to their noses as the foul odor assaulted their nasal passages.
When the smoke cleared a minute or two later, there was nobody in the pulpit, and only three light sooty marks to show where Lucy had once stood.
The Priestess of the Iskendar had made her escape.
"After her!" Chaudean cried, wasting no time in gathering the troops who had assembled outside the temple during the service and beginning to scour the streets surrounding the temple. Lucien joined the fray, equal parts worried and unimpressed with what Lucy had done.
Nobody noticed the little old crippled lady sitting outside the temple, begging for alms under the cover of her dirty cloak. Not until a soldier evicted her sharply with the toe of his boot and she scuttled away, muttering dark curses.
Lucy was nowhere to be found, though tales of the Priestess of Iskendar and her revolutionary service were the talk of the city for many days and months hence. Angered beyond all hope of mollification, the royal family acted swiftly. Within 24 hours of the service, Lucy was declared apostate and stripped of the title of Priestess.
She was replaced by Dorothea Astengaard, a beautiful young woman with a pleasant reading voice who thought little of anything besides fashionable dresses and fancy parties. She was a model priestess and found great favor amongst the ruling families.
In just one day, Lucy transformed from being one of the most influential women in the kingdom to being a heretical vigilante criminal on the run from the dogs of justice. To the disappointment of many, cake day was canceled permanently.
