His meditation was interrupted by the scraping of stone... one of the doors in the old temple was moving. Marcus held his place for a time waiting to see if the trespassers would find there way to him and thier death. It was not to be so, but then a voice distant and yet near holding a thousand tones but none speaking to a king who had fallen from grace and had been judged accordingly. Who was this being of a thousand tongues who claimed to be the hand of the gods. That list was short when the gods still spoke to the people, now Marcus could count the ones he knew of on one hand in this age. Stepping out of the alcove he had called home he crossed to the great doors that guarded the interior of the temple and pushed them out wide. He immediately found the body of the dead king but the man standing beside him did not hold the same... aura, of someone who had just killed a man. Neither was his gaze on the kill in front of him but above him towards the temple. Turning Marcus found the shadowed man atop one of the broken parapets, indeed this was the killer. *whisper*"God's grant me sight." A barely noticable flash over Marcus's eyes was all that alerted anyone to his gift. Now he could see the man properly but even his god given sight hazed a little which meant this man's gifts were also of the gods. It was enough to tell him that he was not a deamon and there was no need to immediately kill him but, he did kill a man on holy ground god ordained or not that needed an explanation. "You there, shadowed one. Why do you spill blood on holy ground?!"