by Luca Rossi
That makes sense. There were so few of them, even before, that they needed to use every last bit of vital energy as best they could. They certainly couldn't let problems arise between couples. These weddings were probably even arranged by the priests according to a plan that helped them avoid interbreeding, as much as it could be avoided.
“But that's not what happened. According to the man's memory, it seems as if he and his wife had been saved by an incredible twist of fate. And the priestess had stayed inside of the Temple,” Ilis continued.
So it was her. The only one who could have maintained the protections of the Temple. Did she suspect something? “Maybe the priestess knew something was going to happen. That's why she didn't participate in the celebration.”
The apprentice observed his master, surprised. “What makes you say that?”
“Listen, dear apprentice. It's the sort of doubt anyone could have.” Ilis was shocked by the unusually kind way the master spoke – he even seemed to be smiling. “Think about that man. He's lost everything. Now he suspects that woman is taking away his wife. On a rational level, he probably understands that it's all necessary. But emotionally, he's suffering. It wouldn't take much more for him to start questioning the priestess. He doesn't have anything to go by, but if you infuse such doubts in his mind, you'd give him the pretext he doesn't yet know to look for.”
“You want me to make him think the priestess knew about the stone shards?”
“No, quite the contrary. You don't need to make him think anything. You need to act like you're interested and ask questions so he generates the doubt on his own.”
Ilis started to understand his master's plan. He had thought Aldin worked in a rather underhanded manner, but now Obolil seemed even more wicked.
“That idiot Aldin could have worked to make sure they would break up on their own, that they'd disrupt the delicate balance their society has been based on for two thousand years. We should have pitted them all against one another instead of wasting decades searching for magical ingredients that are almost impossible to find.”
“Master, what should our goal be? What should happen once the man starts to doubt his priestess?”
“Nothing. Let the doubt take root and prosper, along with his anxiety. From what you've told me, he spends his days almost completely alone. The women are busy with the rituals, logically, given the enormous magical protections they have to sustain. He'll come looking for you more often. Your projection will be the only friendly voice in his life. Just be a shadow and a voice in his mind: that's all you need to drive a man mad, anyway. When he's unstable enough, and when suspicion of the priestess has poisoned his soul, we'll awaken his greed for what used to be his: the wife. And we'll help him win her back.”
“But how?”
Obolil looked Ilis up and down. He helped Aldin prepare the stone assault. He's got to be ready for this as well.
“Kill the priestess.”
30
In one of the large ritual halls of the Temple, Lil arranged candles and sticks of incense. The dim light from the flames mixed with the solitary ray of sunshine that filtered through the single, narrow opening located at the very top of the majestic room. Lil delighted in the spicy odor that emanated from the thin wisps of smoke.
She had almost reached the middle of the room. She stopped to admire her surroundings, unable to conceive how a people as small as her own had been able to construct such impressive architecture.
The walls of the circular room rose dozens of yards high; an elegant array of columns created a concentric circle a few feet away from its perimeter. Every inch of the wall surface was decorated with a dense mosaic that narrated the history of her people, from the time when they fled the Kingdom of Isk until the present day.
Everywhere she looked, the detailed depictions were full of esoteric symbols and letters from ancient languages.
“One day you'll be able to understand all of this,” Miril had told her.
Yet Lil's heart ached as she thought about how nobody would be able to continue building upon this great structure. Her people had always dedicated themselves to working on the Temple. One by one, men and women of all ages had devoted their talents to the Temple: some focused on the mosaics, others on the paintings, others on the building construction itself.
And now? It's all over! Lil lamented, unable to keep the sad thoughts at bay. She thought about Miril, who had spent her entire life in this place. Since she had become a priestess, she had directed these sorts of works. How could she support the fact that these rooms, until just recently full of sweat and toil, had taken on such a deep, yet mournful silence? Yet looking at her, it seemed as if nothing had changed. That couldn't be further from the truth, of course: now they were alone, and they couldn't go on struggling forever to stay alive.
She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand and returned to her work, adding candles to the altar of a god who appeared in the form of a child. This room was dedicated to him. Lil knew one of his many names, Nibielaz. “With every level of consciousness, you will learn new concepts. Even the mastery of the names of the gods is part of your training,” Miril had explained.
A hand gently brushed her forearm, making her flinch. “Oh! It's you!” she exclaimed.
“Were you expecting somebody else?” the priestess asked, smiling.
“No, actually.” Who else could it be?
“I brought you something. You can try it on.” Miril handed her a green, ceremonial dress.
“Did you make it, priestess?” Is this the dress that one day she'll let me wear? Lil didn't dare get her hopes up.
“Yes, I just finished it.”
Lil looked at her, surprised: her face was tired, but beaming. She had never seen Miril sewing during the day, so she had probably sacrificed her nighttime sleep in order to work on it. “Why?” she asked, apprehensively.
“Because it's time for your initiation.”
That can't be right. “My initiation? But...I don't think I'm ready.”
“You are,” Miril reassured her, “and from now on, you'll also take part in the rituals.”
“Oh.” Lil was shocked.
“We can get started.”
“Now?” Lil asked, bewildered.
“But of course. This is where it happens, in front of Nibielaz, the god this room is dedicated to. He is the god who symbolizes the mysteries you'll be initiated under.”
Lil turned towards the altar, uncertain. “Him?”
“Yes. Don't be fooled by appearances, there's a lot to learn about this Temple. His altar seems very similar to the altars of so many other gods but, in reality, his energy is what flows through this Temple. He's the one you need to merge with. Now, kneel in front of the altar.”
Lil's heart began racing. What was going to happen? She wanted to escape and go back to her old life, with Bashinoir, her parents, her friends. I'm not ready for this. But she knelt down. Miril stood next to her.
In a sacred language, the priestess pronounced a series of words Lil didn't understand. The longer she listened, however, the more she felt that she could infer their meaning: not with her mind, but with her heart. It was as if the words materialized in the space between them and the altar. She could see them dancing, gracefully, elegantly.
In the language of their people, Miril asked her if she was ready to die, to leave herself behind and be reborn in the cult of the god Nibielaz.
Lil remained quiet, uncertain. Why didn't Miril prepare me for all of this? Why does this have to happen so suddenly? Yet on an intuitive level, she felt this was how it was supposed to go. Life gives us gifts and brings us pain when we least expect it.
“Yes,” she responded simply.
Miril finished the initiation ritual by pronouncing a series of magical formulas. But Lil didn't need to listen any longer. The energy of that magnificent place had begun to flow through her. She closed her eyes.
Yes, let it carry you away. Savor what you feel. Allow th
e god's energy to flow through you.
She whispered. “You...can communicate through thoughts?”
Yes. And now you can hear me. It's one of the powers that the god gives us. You can try it for yourself.
Lil, her eyes closed, concentrated. Like this? Can you...hear me?
Perfectly.
The intensity of the energy flowed through every part of her body and soul. Lil felt so full, and yet so light, that she could almost hover in the air. I've never felt anything like this. It's phenomenal.
It usually takes years of preparation, but you got to this level in a matter of weeks. You've worked very hard. You've dedicated yourself to this duty wholeheartedly, and this is the result. There's no level of initiation that you won't be able to reach, if you remain this committed.
Lil couldn't keep her doubts to herself. Priestess, what does all of this mean? There are only three of us left. We're destined to a life of solitude. We've lost everything.
Lil, I know what torments you, Miril responded, but if we survived, there's a reason why, and we have the duty to understand it. We need to live this life as best we can. This is the second time we have received the gift of life: the first upon our birth, and the second when we escaped the terrible event during which all of our brothers and sisters perished. Now that you've been initiated, embrace the flow of events. It's what's brought you this great gift.
Did everyone she loved have to be sacrificed in order for her to be initiated? Lil wondered.
Lil, the reality we experience is in the now. What happened, for better or worse, has led to this moment. It's now up to us to do our best, every moment of our lives. As a new initiate of the god Nibielaz, you've shown that you know how to direct your energy to something higher and more important than simple regret over what you've lost.
A new sense of awareness awoke within her. You're right, priestess. Please pardon my doubts. I'll devote myself body and soul to this path towards enlightenment.
I know, Lil. I can see, in your eyes, in your soul, what you truly aspire to.
Miril came closer and gave her a sisterly hug, then took her head in her hands and, lowering it gently, kissed her forehead.
The girl felt the Temple's energy flow even more intensely upon that contact. Her forehead was on fire. She felt happy. For the first time in her life, she felt whole, complete.
31
Bashinoir struggled to place one foot in front of the other. He panted as he walked along the path that wound higher and higher through the trees of the forest. Every once in a while, he looked behind him. He was far away, perhaps too far, but he continued onwards. He wasn't headed in a specific direction.
He thought again about Lil and the priestess Miril. I wish...I really wish I could take care of you.
That day, he should have been working on finishing up the new stables so the animals could be moved into the Temple's protection as soon as possible. But, as he had been doing more frequently, he had decided to forget about his duties.
Every day he woke up, convinced he could hang on. He knew how important it was for each one of them to pull their weight, but when it was time to get to work, he suddenly found himself unmotivated and unwilling. He wasn't sure where the anxieties and fears that plagued him came from. Instead of working, he wandered through the forest, losing himself in all sorts of unproductive activities such as sitting on the beach for hours, or wandering through the hills. Sometimes he did the minimum necessary, other times he didn't do anything at all.
During the evenings, the two women seemed very positive and full of energy, despite their fatigue, and would ask him how he had spent his day. Feeling guilty, he tried to remain vague, often lying, wishing they would just drop the subject. They did what they could to share their joy and love with him, and he promised himself he would try harder the next day.
Sometimes, before getting to work, Bashinoir would try to inspire his strength and willpower by picturing Lil and Miril. They were the last hope of his people, all that remained, and they depended upon him for their material survival.
But even then, he couldn't bring himself to do anything. He gave himself another day off and wandered around aimlessly. Tomorrow...tomorrow I'll do my best. Tomorrow I'll get to work, this time for sure.
He had climbed so high up that his footsteps crunched through thick masses of snow. It would take a lot of effort to continue onwards.
He invented new goals and new limits. There, once I get to that point up there, I'll start heading back. But as soon as he reached that point, he would continue walking all the same, setting his eyes on a new goal to reach further along.
He felt like a teenager, escaping from life to hang around the trees, laughing, joking, lurking around the path, waiting for a girl to pass by. But in his case, he knew that nobody would ever pass by.
Maybe I just can't do this. Maybe everything that's happened has made it impossible for me to work again. I could try working half the day and spend the other half resting, he hypothesized as he continued climbing up. It was a good idea, but he knew, deep down, that he wouldn't follow through with that idea.
He stopped once he left the forest. From then onwards, the path was no longer covered by the trees.
He observed the contours of the island. Mountains, woods, meadows, everything was covered with snow. He looked up. Did a spell so evil that it exterminated all those I love really come from that sky?
He tried to quell his anxiety with a piece of dry bread. Suddenly, somewhat shamefully, he became aware of his body: he was putting on weight.
Whenever he combed through the now-empty houses to collect provisions, before bringing them back to the Temple, he would stop in the forest and eat. He was trying to stuff his nervousness deeper down. He wanted to stop, but he kept on until he felt like he could burst, when a sense of nausea came over him. He then felt so full that, at dinner, he could barely swallow down whatever Lil had cooked. Looking along the coast, he saw, in the distance, the point where she was waiting for him: the shadow. He felt the compelling need to go see her. She was one of his few comforts left. He knew she probably wasn't real, but the illusion made him feel good. When he was with her, his anxiety and tension disappeared, even if he was slightly afraid of the ambiguous feelings that came over him in her presence.
There were times when he wanted to escape from her and stay far, far away from everything: from the homes of his dead relatives and friends in the village, from his wife, from the priestess, from the shadow, from the past.
He continued walking. He knew that path by memory; otherwise, with all that snow, it would have been easy to get lost.
The sky was turning dark. It had begun snowing again. The fur covers wrapped around his boots were plunging deeper into the snow with every step. The first flakes landed on his shoulder. There weren't many hours of daylight left, but Bashinoir still continued onwards.
If something happened to me, what would Lil and Miril do? I need to go back.
He decided that he'd head back as soon as the path veered in a different direction.
Once the path turned, he realized he was just a little ways away from one of his favorite spots. The trail climbed up a cliff a few hundred feet high. Bashinoir knew this was dangerous terrain. He thought about what would happen if he fell. He visualized himself at the bottom of the steep slope, with a wounded leg, unable to stand up. The snow would cover his footsteps. Lil and Miril wouldn't be able to find him, but if they kept looking, all that remained would be the frozen fragments of a cadaver mauled by wild animals.
He walked on a little further, feeling a shiver of danger, then, finally, decided to turn back. He went down to the forest, passed through it and reached the village, and then the Temple, without facing any problems during the return journey.
Approaching the Temple, he saw the light from the kitchen filtering through the windows. There was a hearth inside, a dinner and two women who, although tired from the work they had done that day, still wanted to spend time wi
th him. Bashinoir wished he could just be alone, away from it all, even the woman he loved. He wished he could go straight to his bedroom, but didn't know how he could possibly do that. He had to save face, he had to pretend to be strong in front of those who had faith in him. He couldn't show them he was cracking. He felt overcome by nausea. What lie would he make up this time? What could he tell them about his day? Depressed, defeated, unable to break the spell that kept pulling him downwards, he stepped through the door, putting a spring in his step and a smile on his face.
32
While cleaning the large, round room of the Temple, Lil stopped to rest, wiping the sweat away from her forehead with a handkerchief. She allowed herself a few minutes to appreciate the marvelous mosaics decorating the walls. In the past, she, like all the other inhabitants of the island, would only have had the chance to spend time in this place while engaged in some humble form of work. It was one of the greatest honors one could aspire to. But now she was the only one left to take care of so many rooms. If she didn't finish cleaning before beginning the rituals, she would have to come back at night. It was inconceivable to leave any corner of the Temple in anything but the most perfect state of cleanliness.
Miril came into the room. Lil's heart ached when she saw her: they had woken up only a few hours ago, but Miril already looked like she was consumed with fatigue. Without saying a word, the priestess picked up a broom and began sweeping the floor.
“Priestess, please. You look exhausted. Let me take care of this,” Lil said, coming closer and taking the broom handle away from her.
Her eyes were lined with dark, purple circles. The priestess smiled: “Don't worry. I'm happy to have something to do with my hands.”
