by HR Moore
'Still a master of originality I see,' she said, smiling, not moving from her position on the ground.
Marcus walked towards her, Anita feeling his energy intensify as he came closer, hers responding in the same way. Thank the Gods he wasn't a reader, she thought again.
'Did you come for any particular reason, or just to watch me doing yoga?' she flirted, turning her head to watch as he approached.
Marcus said nothing, but kept coming steadily towards her until he was standing right over her. He crouched and she pushed herself up on her elbows. He took hold of her hand, seductively kissing its back.
'Are you always so feisty?'
'As a general rule.'
'I came by to say I'll pick you up at seven o'clock, if that's to your satisfaction?'
'Seven o'clock it is,' she said, flashing him her sweetest see, I'm not feisty when I don't want to be smile.
'In which case, I will look forward to seeing you then,' he said, with a matching now that wasn't so hard was it nod of his head. He stood, gently released her hand, and disappeared back the way he'd come.
Anita slumped heavily back to the ground and took a long, deep lung full of air, relishing the bunch of anticipation in her stomach. Butterflies fluttered, their wings brushing her nerves, sending tingles to her brain. Eventually she got up and headed back inside; she would be late for the Crownings if she didn't get a move on.
As she approached the back door, an enormous bouquet of dusky pink peonies stopped her in her tracks. She opened the attached card, reading the words, 'Until later…' that had been scrawled, in perfect, old fashioned script. She rolled her eyes; trust him to have perfect handwriting.
Anita showered and got dressed, paying quite a bit more attention to her appearance than she normally would. She told Cordelia it was because she wanted to look her best in case she had to deal with any unwanted attention. Cordelia gave her a look that said she knew it was a lie.
Anita walked with Cordelia to the temples. She didn't hear a word Cordelia said, a faint smile playing across her lips all the way.
As it was a double Crowning, both the Temple of the Body and the Temple of the Spirit would be used. Most of the ceremony would take place in the Temple of the Body, but Alexander's actual Crowning would take place in the Temple of the Spirit. This would happen after the Descendants had gone to some secret location beneath the temples, to do whatever thing it was they had to do.
Anita and Cordelia once again sat at the back of the Temple of the Body. Luckily, this time, Marcus was already at the front. No opportunity for embarrassing looks as he walked past, Anita was relieved to discover.
Once again music flooded the temple. At Christiana's funeral it had been haunting, but today, the hidden organ boomed out a theatrical, moody, full-bodied piece as the procession began.
First came the Spirit and Body councilors, clad in full length cloaks, hoods up, so no-one could see their faces. Nobody was sure why they did this. It invoked powerful visions of cult members on their way to make a sacrifice to the Gods; utterly terrifying.
After the councilors came Peter. Someone had done a good job of dolling him up. But despite his swept back hair, smart suit and cloak, he didn't have the air of a Descendant. He was tall and reasonably good looking, but had a sort of scrawny, wispy look about him, his wavy dark hair tinged with grey. He looked tired, with none of the gravitas of the others.
Next was Alexander, cloak billowing around him as he strode, God-like, towards the alter. His hair had been cut shorter for the occasion, and Anita's energy rose the second she clapped eyes on him, as he ascended the steps into the temple. If Alexander felt it, there was no outward sign, but then again, every female pair of eyes were locked on him, transfixed, so maybe her energy was lost in the mix.
Last and most melodramatic of all was Austin. He had his floor length red cloak on, but also had a hood over his head, so nobody could see his face. He moved theatrically down the aisle, relishing his moment to shine. Anita wondered what the new dynamic would be like. She got the impression that Peter would go along with whatever Austin wanted, but wasn't sure Alexander would be so easy to control...
By the time Austin had reached the front, the councilors had taken their seats. Peter and Alexander sat on the elaborate gold thrones that had been placed in front of the altar. Austin stopped just in front of them, turning to face the congregation before dramatically lowering his hood.
He paused, surveying the scene, a taught silence settling over the crowd. 'Descendants, councilors, children of the Temples of the Mind, Body and Spirit. We are here today to observe a momentous occasion in our history; the Crowning of two Descendants, Alexander, son of Theon, and Peter, son of Christiana.
'As ever, a Crowning evokes mixed emotions; a sense of loss for those who have moved on from this world, and joy for the instatement of two new Descendants, beginning their reign. As the ceremony is being held here in Empire, rather than in Kingdom by the Relic, some of the ceremony will take place privately, below the temples. However, this will form only a small part of today's proceedings.
'Peter's Crowning will take place here in the Temple of the Body, and Alexander's in the Temple of the Spirit, with the main part of the ceremony taking place here.
'I would like to take this opportunity to say how proud I am of both Peter and Alexander for the way they have handled this difficult time, and I look forward to having them join me as reigning Descendants.'
Patronizing bastard, though Anita, how proud he is of them? Please.
As Austin moved to his front row seat, a Body councilor got gracefully to her feet, moving slowly and purposefully to the center of the altar behind Alexander and Peter. She still had her hood up, cloak falling elegantly from her shoulders, but Anita knew this woman, Helena, well.
She was the cousin of Alexander's mother, Celia, and she lived here in Empire. At the age of thirteen, given Anita's considerable Body abilities, Helena had helped her to harness and use her skills. She'd been a source of counsel, guidance and competition. Even now, at the age of fifty-five, Helena could push Anita like most others could not.
Helena had been there when Anita had been teased about being different, when children had been scared to play with her, when whispers followed everywhere that she had been sent by the Gods.
Despite her involvement, Helena had always kept Anita a safe distance away, and had never been a motherly figure. She was not warm and cuddly, far from it, she was the most formidable person Anita knew; she made even Austin look like a pussy cat. But she had always been there when Anita needed her. There was a curious connection between them that Anita found both strange and oddly comforting.
Anita had hardly seen Helena for the last few years. She was now the most senior Body councilor, hence why she was performing today's ceremony. She spent a great deal of time with the academics, studying and teaching Body skills to those, like Anita, who displayed potential.
Helena had invited Anita to join the academics a couple of years back, but she'd turned her down. Cordelia hadn't been keen on it; she'd never really liked Helena, and anyway, Anita had been more interested in continuing to study the energy. Luckily, Elistair had offered her a job at the observatory a few weeks later, so it had ended up being the right decision, but Helena and Anita had barely been in touch since.
Helena's head was bowed, facing the audience, but not looking at them directly. She paused for several moments before lifting her head to reveal her deep green eyes. She raised her arms out and upwards, cloak fanning out with her arms. The congregation held their breath, anticipation almost palpable.
In a low, controlled, powerful voice that instantly commanded the attention of everyone who heard it, she began.
'In the beginning, there were three Gods; Theseus of the Mind, Tatiana of the Body, and Jeremiah of the Spirit. The three Gods created three worlds, each with a mix of the three Gods' skills.
'In each world they created people who lived to serve the Gods, and in r
eturn, the Gods kept the energy stable, so resources would be plentiful. The people built temples to thank the Gods for their generosity, and worshipped the God to whom they belonged.
'For hundreds of years, the people of our world lived like this, in harmony. We served the Gods, and the Gods provided prosperity for all. But then, in the year 769, the Gods made a change.
'In that year, they sent three people to the world to rule for them; Janus for Theseus, God of the Mind, Georgiana for Tatiana, Goddess of the Body, and Julius for Jeremiah, God of the Spirit. Each was known as a Descendant, and each would pass their Descendancy down to their children, Janus and Julius through their male heirs, and Georgiana through her female ones.
'The Descendants would rule the world for the Gods, taking over responsibility for energy harmony. Although the Gods never gave an explanation as to why they had been sent, the people showed great respect for those who had been sent to lead them; there was accord for over two hundred years. Then, at the turn of the century, the Gods made another change; they revealed the Relic.
'With the Relic came a prophecy, that one day the Descendants would return the Relic, an act that would free the world from the Gods. When that happens, the energy will be forever stable, and the people will be free to rule as they please, to choose their own leaders.
'The Relic brought great hope, yet great disruption. The world's energy has been volatile since that day, and we live in hope with each generation of Descendants that they will be the ones to free us from the Gods.'
Helena was joined at the altar by another councilor, one Anita didn't recognize, from the Temple of the Spirit. He was a short man who looked as though he'd enjoyed one too many long lunches and a great deal too many cigars. He too faced the congregation, standing directly behind Alexander, Helena moving to stand behind Peter.
'Children of the temples,' the Spirit councilor said, in a voice that conveyed more authority than his stature suggested, 'we have heard the history and the prophecy, and it is now time for our Descendants to begin their journey to rule.' He paused and raised his arms as Helena had done earlier. 'Alexander, son of Theon, of the Temple of the Spirit, do you promise to uphold the quest for energy balance, to seek, before anything else, to fulfil the prophecy, and to rule according to the wishes of Jeremiah, God of the Spirit?'
'I do.' Alexander's unwavering reply floated through the temple.
Anita's energy rose at the sound of his voice, but she didn't even notice, too busy gazing at Alexander's ethereal form. He was every inch the confident ruler, a tad disheveled perhaps, but only in a way that seemed to enhance his right to reign. By the time Anita snapped out of it, Helena was talking.
'Peter, son of Christiana, of the Temple of the Body, do you promise to uphold the quest for energy balance, to seek, before anything else, to fulfil the prophecy, and to rule according to the wishes of Tatiana, Goddess of the Body?'
'I do,' answered Peter, in a confident, clear voice, but that still somehow hinted at nerves. Alexander conveyed a sense that he was meant to be where he was, but with Peter, it was as though he wasn't quite sure. Then again, as the first man to lead the Body line, he was probably worried about being mobbed on his way out…what if the prophecy was truly broken?
'The Descendants will now withdraw to the sacred place below the temples for the next part of the ceremony,' said the Spirit councilor.
Alexander, Peter, Gwyn, Marcus and Austin got up and approached the circle in the floor in the center of the temple. Anita didn't know where to look; both Marcus and Alexander were walking directly towards her, and both seemed to be looking directly at her. Her energy rocketed, so she concentrated on trying to get that under control, trying desperately to tear her eyes away. She failed on both counts.
As they descended the steps, through what was now a hole in the floor, both Alexander and Marcus smiled. Marcus, presumably, because he thought he alone was the one making her look awkward. Anita made a mental note to put him firmly back in his place later. More embarrassing was Alexander's smirk, doubtless because he could feel her ridiculous energy.
Both reactions made Anita cross, which meant Cordelia had a rough fifteen minutes trying to make conversation while they waited for the Descendants to return. Cordelia gave up after a few attempts and resigned herself to listening to the music that was once again filling the temple.
Almost exactly fifteen minutes later, the party of Descendants returned. Austin looked a bit put out, but the rest of them seemed to be in high spirits as they made their way back to the altar. This time, instead of sitting in front of the altar, Alexander sat in the front row with the other Descendants. His throne had been moved out of the way so that Peter's actual Crowning could take place and Helena was once again directing proceedings. Peter sat alone, all eyes on him.
'Peter, son of Christiana, I summon you to the altar of your Goddess to make public your allegiance to your ruler,' said Helena.
Peter stood a little too quickly and made his way to the altar where he knelt, arms open, looking up towards the ceiling. 'I, Peter, son of Christiana, of the Temple of the Body, declare myself at the disposal of my ruler, the Goddess Tatiana.'
Helena, who had conjured a crown from nowhere, stepped in front of Peter and held the simple gold band above his head.
'I, Helena, councilor of the Temple of the Body, and servant of the Goddess Tatiana, crown you, Peter, son of Christiana, of the Temple of the Body. May you be always guided by the Gods as you seek to free the world.'
Helena slowly lowered the crown onto Peter's head. Remarkably, it fit, which seemed strange given that it was a crown made for a female head. Had they resized it?
Helena removed her hands and took a couple of steps back as a fanfare flooded the temple. Peter stood, looked at Helena, who gave him an uncharacteristically reassuring nod, and stiffly turned around to face the crowd. As he did so, the congregation begrudgingly bowed. Peter paused, seemingly unsure what to do next, when Austin rose and made towards the aisle.
This seemed to galvanized Peter, who hastily led the procession back out of the temple and into the sunlight beyond. Anita was pleased with herself for this time managing to avoid looking at either Alexander or Marcus.
The procession immediately turned to head towards the Spirit Temple where the same ceremony would take place for Alexander. Unfortunately, the Spirit Temple was full of Spirits, which meant that Anita and Cordelia had to stand outside at the back. Anita managed to scale one of the pillars, which gave her a pretty good vantage point from which to view Alexander's majestic performance at the altar.
When Alexander turned to make his way back down the aisle, there was no hesitation; he confidently strode out of the temple and through the cheering crowd. He shot Anita a quick glance as he approached her perch. This time, it was Anita's turn to feel Alexander's energy rise at seeing her, which improved her mood significantly. She was almost jovial by the time she dropped back down to where Cordelia waited below.
* * * * *
By the time Anita and Cordelia got home, Cleo had set up shop in the sitting room. She had brought with her a chest full of ancient torture devices and immediately set about using them on Anita. It was four o'clock by the time Anita was allowed a break, and only because Cordelia appeared with some sandwiches and a carrot and ginger cake.
At four thirty, the hairdresser and make-up artist arrived and got to work on Cleo. Harry was picking her up at six thirty as everyone had to be in place and ready by seven for the Descendants' procession at seven thirty. Cleo didn't want to be late.
When they finished with Cleo, she looked extraordinary. Her hair was in a loose up do; several delicate plaits woven in her silky locks in a way that accentuated her spectacular cheekbones, her eyelids a shimmering palette of bronze and gold.
'Wow, Cleo, you look amazing,' said Anita. 'I mean, you always look great, obviously, but you've somehow reached a whole new level.'
'Thanks,' Cleo laughed, 'just wait until you see the dress!' She
practically skipped upstairs to get changed.
While Cleo dressed herself, the hairdresser and makeup artist began on Anita, building her up do around her mother's gold and diamond tiara. The results, even Anita had to admit, were good. They'd somehow managed to make her look imperial, yet soft and approachable, and her makeup was understated, yet striking.
Anita was admiring their handy work in the mirror when Cleo re-entered the room. 'Bloody hell,' said Anita. Cleo was a vision in a floor-length, golden, shimmering, figure accentuating, sleeveless dress, with a low v at the front. It fitted her magnificently and suited her, even if it did push the boundaries of acceptability. She had simple, sky-high gold sandals on her feet, which, of course, she moved in effortlessly.
'Stop staring and go and put on your dress,' chastised Cleo, grinning at Anita's reaction.
Anita went up the narrow stairway to her cramped bedroom, where she slipped on her flowing red dress. It was a rich, blood-red silk, cut straight across the front with a deep, seductive v that showed off her perfectly toned back. It had a band around the front that fitted Anita's athletic waist as though it had been made especially for her, and dropped straight to the floor, kicking out at the bottom so it swished beautifully as she walked.
She grinned as she zipped herself up and did a quick twirl so the fabric poured around her legs; maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
She stepped into the ridiculous black stiletto sandals with silk satin tie straps that Cleo had also convinced her to buy in Temple Mews. Thank the Gods her mother had left her some money when she'd died; shopping in Temple Mews would have been out of reach on her observatory salary alone. She winced at the thought of the damage to her bank vault.
She returned back downstairs, to a gaggle of approving comments and her face cracked into a broad smile.
'They'll call you Queen of Empire in that tiara,' said Cleo, 'and your dress will match lover boy's cloak like a charm.'
Anita rolled her eyes and gave Cleo a playful shove.
