As empty and windowless as the room before, this one had another exit, beside the one the man had taken when leaving them there.
Right in front of them, two large doors remained invitingly opened and, taking a curious look at them, Snow could see that the room beyond them was much larger than any of the others he’d seen. It also looked like it wasn’t empty, he concluded, peering right and left from where he stood, not daring move to take a closer look.
“Let’s go inside,” ZaiWin simply declared and walked towards the open doors.
ZenTar couldn’t help gape in disbelief as he watched him move.
“What?! Are you serious?”
“Aren’t you the one always nagging me to go and pay my respects at the closest Temple?”
“Yeah! And you never go!!” he countered in indignation but ZaiWin simply shrugged, stepping through the open doors.
With a sigh of defeat ZenTar looked at the boy standing right beside him. Even half covered by the blue scarf ZaWin had gotten him, the curiosity glowing in his pale eyes couldn’t be hidden. The reason behind ZaiWin’s sudden urge to go into a place he had refused to set foot in the last sixteen years wasn’t hard to guess.
“Let’s go, kid,” he sighed again and Snow didn’t hesitate to follow him, quickly trotting behind him like a happy puppy.
As to be expected, although ZaiWin had actually entered the Payer Hall, he hadn’t gone far. Leaning against the wall right next to the door, arms crossed over his chest, even though he kept an indifferent expression on his face, it was clear he was deeply annoyed just by standing there.
ZenTar sighed again. If it ruined his mood so much, why had he come entered in the first place? But then he didn’t have to ask, did he?, he wondered, watching the boy stare wide-eyed at everything around him.
Unlike any other room Snow had ever been in, this one wasn’t square, or even rectangular, not even round. And Snow quickly counted seven different walls, each one presenting a large, strange symbol made of bright crystal, similar to the symbols he’d seen at the entrance.
At the center of the pentagonal room was a strange stairway also made of crystal, spiraling upwards, the glistening steps as if they were simply there, floating in midair. It led to three equally floating platforms, standing firmly high above the ground. A circular table made of white stone had been built around the stairway, and several white cushions had been carefully laid in concentric circles around it, resting on the equally white floor, covering most of the huge hall. At the base of the table a few candles and incense sticks were burning, filling the room with a sweet, perfumed scent. And the huge, glass dome that covered the entire place allowed enough daylight in to make it look like they were standing outside.
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“This is where people come to offer their prayers,” ZenTar declared and Snow looked up at him, the eagerness for more information plastered all over his face making him sigh. “See there? They come to offer incense and fire, and coin as well,” he added with a tinge of sarcasm, pointing towards the burning candles.
“Once a week the Jundai give their blessings. Everyone comes and kneels on these cushions to pray and meditate. One Jundai from each Empire stands on those platforms and together they pray for the people of the three Empires, and ask that the Heavens may bless them.”
Snow looked at the three platforms again, trying to imagine that huge room filled with people, everyone silently kneeling on a cushion.
“The seven walls represent the Seven Heavens,” ZenTar went on, pointing towards the first wall to their right. “The Firtien, or the Heaven of the Innocents, where the people believe the innocent ones find their rest after death. The Houtien, or Heaven of the Just, for those that have lived a just and fair life. The Gentien, of Heaven of Heroes, the resting place of those who died defending a just cause or saving someone else’s life. The Haemaonar, inhabited by the sacred Heavenly Beasts. The Harnar, where the souls of the Tien’Elhar, the Celestials, are created and kept until the right time comes and they to descend to earth,” he declared, pointing the fifth wall, and Snow looked back at him, eyes wide in disbelief. ZenTar ignored him, continuing with his explanation. “The Eltien, where the Gods live. And the Elnar, the place of the Creator of all things.”
Snow’s eyes were inevitably drawn back to the fifth wall, to the huge crystal symbol hanging there. It probably meant Harnar, he guessed, his heart beating faster.
Did that mean they believed he had come from some sacred place? A thought like that was beyond ridiculous, he decided, turning to steal a peek at ZaiWin. Surely he didn’t believe that, he hoped. He wasn’t sacred, or heavenly, or anything like that. And he didn’t want to be any of those things either. All he wanted was to be a normal person, live a normal life, and, for once, not be beaten up for trying to buy an apple on the market.
Since ZenTar had apparently finished his explanation, Snow took the time to quietly look around.
He had always thought a Temple would be more grand, with gold and precious stones everywhere, with huge, intimidating statues of Gods and walls filled with paintings. This place, however, was pleasantly quiet and clean, making him feel unexpectedly relaxed. He could understand why so many people went there to kneel in silence. He wished he could do the same. Simply close his eyes and breathe, and forget about everything else, allowing time to simply stop.
“My Lords, My Lady,” a soft voice called them and they all turned to the door, where the same man as before was waiting. “The venerable Jundai will receive you now.”
ZaiWin was the first one out through the door, seeming eager to get out of that place as soon as possible. ZenTar stayed behind, waiting for Snow to follow.
Snow gave a last glance at the silent Temple and, taking a deep breath, followed ZaiWin’s dark figure.
They were led through another corridor, this one much more normal, except for the fact that there was no visible source of light, the white walls taking care of that matter with their gentle glow. They passed by several closed doors, all plain and white, until the man leading them finally stopped in front of one of them, knocking respectfully.
“Jundai? I brought your guests,” he declared and the muffle voice of a woman sounded from inside.
“Please let them in.”
The man opened the door and stepped to one side to grant them passage.
“If you please …” he bowed and ZaiWin nodded, accepting his invitation.
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Please don’t kill the messenger ... 😖