“Let today be yet another day that serves your namesakes and your will. By Olitheon, let today be another day of Knowledge and Wisdom. By Nexon, let today be another day of Joy and Gratitude. By Intillia, let today be another day of Peace and Selflessness. And by Aredal, let today be another day of Truth and Justice. Aventa,”

Raising his palms to the air, the man dressed in a long, white and gold robe with a matching gold cap and pellegrina received thunderous applause from the crowd; In front of him hundreds sat in long wooden pews. While a few near the front were dressed in ornate robes— not to dissimilar to his own —most were dressed in peasant’s clothing.

In the front pew two young robed men, rose to their feet clapping vigorously. They wore simple white robes of the same cut as Okin’s, although the man on the left, the older-looking one of the two, had a robe with golden cuffs and a golden collar.

Smiling widely, the two men continued to clap as the back half of the church began to leave their pews. The man leading the congregation bowed to the altar, and then walk away from the pews, exiting out a door behind the altar.

“Phew," the younger of the two men wiped away the sweat from his forehead. “I didn’t think he could go on any longer Okin,”

“It wasn’t that long, he didn’t mince any words. Your father gave an amazing liturgy," Okin replied.

The younger man nodded. While it might have tricked others, Okin could tell it was half-heartedly. “Yeah, i guess it was good.”

Previa, Previa, Previa, Okin thought to himself. For all the knowledge and opportunity he had been blessed with, Previa had never seemed to use them to their fullest. “To spread the universal word proficiently, you must listen to others who have done so before you. You’re lucky to have such an inspiring father.”

Nodding again, Previa n replied, “I’ve heard that enough as is. I don’t need you piling on as well.”

Walking out of the pew, the two men turned to a door which led to the area of the church behind the chancel, out of sight from anyone in the main hall. Closing the door behind them, the two men walked through a thin, plain hall, and into a small preparation room; Candles, robes, books and artifacts were all neatly organized in closets along the walls. The man who had led the congregation was there. Old and thin, he stood with good posture for his age, straight backed and with hands clasped behind his back.

“Impalias Aldwin, that was a very powerful liturgy," Okin said, prompting the Impalias to give a warm smile in return.

“Thank you, Okin. I am honoured that you attended the congregation," Aldwin replied. Although he spoke with a typically stiff voice, there was something strange about the way he spoke today.

“Now, onto why I asked you here today," the Impalias said, looking at Okin. “As you probably remember, in two weeks it is the tenth anniversary of the death of Lionel Gruissem.” Okin and Previa both nodded solemly at the name. “I would love to return home to perform the ceremony myself, but unfortunately The Citadel needs me during this crucial time of integration. But, I am more than honoured to delegate the position to you, High Ather Okin. You have proven time and time again that you are a pious man, and wise above your years.”

Okin bowed his head. “I am honoured that you have granted me this opportunity. I will give everything I have to honour this great man, on the anniversary of his union with the Gods.”

“I am to join him, right?” the younger man looked at his father, the Impalias, with wide eyes.

The Impalias’ smile faded. “No. Only one Ather is required to perform the ceremony, and you are needed elsewhere, Ather Previa.”

“But— but I knew Mr. Gruissem as a young boy! Even if just as an attendee, I would like to pay my respects—”

“No. The decision is final. You will go with me to The Citadel, and Okin will travel to Metheno to perform the ceremony," Aldwin said gruffly.

Letting out a disheartened sigh, Previa looked back to the floor. Okin stood still, rather shocked at Aldwin’s decision. Since when did The Citadel need so many Athers on call? Okin thought to himself. It was not a time of war, in fact, this was the most prosperous time for The Citadel since its establishment. And Previa was no warrior, nor a well-studied religious leader. As Okin was supposed to mentor Previa, he was surprised that he would not be allowed to join him to perform a ceremony in their hometown.

Perhaps it is family affairs. It is clearly something important, I should not question it.

“Thank you again, Impalias Aldwin," Okin said, bowing.

A smile returning to his face, Aldwin replied, “No, it is my honour, High Ather Okin. In three days, two carriages will arrive at your quarters in Ariska. One will take you and your Rothar to Metheno, Okin, and the other will take you directly to the Citadel, Previa.”

“Yeah, okay," Previa said, turning away from his father and heading for the door that led back to the main hall of the cathedral. Raising an eyebrow at Previa’s lack of respect, Okin turned back to Aldwin. With a bow of the head, Okin thanked the Impalias one last time, and followed Previa out of the small room.

Going down the left side of the aisle, Okin jogged lightly to catch up with Previa, who was marching out of the church. As they reached the entrance of the cathedral, Okin had finally gotten within speaking distance of Previa.

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“Why are you so upset, my friend?” Okin asked.

Previa turned to look at Okin, both men steadying to a halt. “You don’t get it? Father always makes me do what he wants. I just wanted to see home for a little while, and pay our respects, but for some reason I got to go off and do some chores at The Citadel.”

Wrapping his arm around Previa’s back, Okin gave him a friendly pat. “Being summoned to The Citadel is a high honour. The only time I got to go there was for my promotion ceremony.”

Like a child seeing into a window of a candy store, Previa’s eyes lit up. “You think I am going to be inducted as a High Ather?”

Smiling at the excitedness of the guileless Previa, the thought of confirming the truthfulness of this wish, which may in fact be false, crossed Okin’s mind. But instinctively he remembered one of the tenants of his own God, Aredal: Do not lie. A man knows when he is lying. An honest man knows that lying encompasses leaving out important information, or displaying something which may not be true as fact. Do not meddle in anything of the sort.

Okin looked down and away from Previa. “I’m not sure. It could be, but it is likely something else.”

His childlike glimmer fading, Previa took a deep sigh. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

Giving him one last pat on the back, Okin walked forward with Previa down the polished stone steps of the cathedral. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Okin beamed at the sight of a town he’d always enjoyed. As he took in the colourfully painted wooden houses, he was amazed by how they were all unique, yet strangely uniform. Okin loved that. Everything about this town was practical, but artistic and novel. The cobblestone roads were smooth and well-paved, still every inch was unique in pattern and shape.

“You waiting for someone or something?” Okin was pulled out of his daydreaming by the voice of the carriage driver, his Rothar, Gendro. Previa and the Rothar were already seated in the carriage.

“No, I was merely taking in the town," Okin said, giving a warm smile as he stepped up into the carriage.

After the High Ather had gotten in, Gendro slapped the reins and the two horses pulled the carriage slowly along the cobble road. Okin, still mesmerized by the charming town, gazed around, studying the river that bisected the northern part of the town, where the cobble road became a small bridge. The crystal clear water of the river was bubbled by a large water wheel that was built adjacent to the bridge. From the reflection in the river, Okin could see a blurry and ever-changing reflection of the bridge and one of the town’s food stores.

“Your father sure is lucky to work in such a wonderful town," Okin said.

“Luck has nothing to do with it," Previa replied. “Dad and uncle worked together to make sure that a new cathedral was built here, that they would be stationed to.”

Raising an eyebrow, Okin asked, “Why not in Metheno?”

“I’m not sure," Previa replied. “Maybe they just liked the town, like you.” Looking away, Okin gave a drifting nod.

It seems that, in a way, everyone I knew as a child has left Metheno. I wonder what it will be like upon my return?

Metheno was a small town, and like many small towns, did not do well when struck by tragedy. Okin remembered the first seventeen years of his life, he was more pious and restrained than the other kids, but overall had a very normal childhood. But after the tragedy, the town was never the same. There were some that Okin never saw again, which he chalked up to nothing to allow the trauma to fade away from his conscience. For the next ten years, all Okin thought about was scripture, and how to be the righteous in the eyes of the Gods.

No matter what, it’ll be good to return home, to see my family again.

Feeling hair touch his arm, Okin turned to see Previa, who had fallen asleep and was now leaning against him. With a wholesome chuckle, the Ather remained unmoved, allowing his friend to get some rest on the journey.

Finally, the two Athers had arrived back at their quarters, exhausted and hungry after the journey. Gendro parked the carriage in front of the stone church building.

“Now that was a long one, Previa," Okin said with a bright grin.

Previa looked at Okin, a bit confused of his apparent pleasure of stating the obvious, until the look of bright realization appeared on his face.

“Ah, Okin. You always have to bust my balls," Previa said, the two men chuckled as they walked to their quarters. If not for muscle memory, they would probably be stumbling around in the dark for a few minutes before reaching the door, but they had no trouble. The small amount of sunlight illuminated the grey stone bricks of the church building, upon which the Ather’s quarters were attached. The tall, stone pillars and dark red roofs made the church resemble a medieval garrison.

Feeling around the iron door, Okin’s fingers finally slid over what he knew was the keyhole. He prodded the key in the general area, finally it clicked and he opened the door. Gendro moved inside, and but Okin was stopped by a tap on the shoulder from Previa.

“Okin," Previa said, and Okin turned his head so he could faintly make out Previa’s face. “I thought about the possibilities on the ride, and I thought— What if I don’t want to be a High Ather?”

I don’t think you’re going to become one yet anyway, Okin thought to himself, but he couldn’t say that— or at least not that bluntly. Keeping Previa motivated was important, but maintaining the tenant of Truth— which Okin had done so flawlessly since his initiation as an Ather— was infinitely more vital. “You are still very young, Previa, and it takes a lot of effort and Dedication to become a High Ather. It is quite unlikely that that is the reason your father is summoning you to The Citadel, but it could be. But if it is, do not make the same mistake I did of doubting yourself. No matter if you are an Ather-in-training, or The Mouth of The Gods himself, what is truly important is your Dedication, our Dedication, to Truth, Justice, and Bravery,” Okin said, resting a hand on Previa’s shoulder. “Don’t be like I was, my friend. Be Brave.”

Previa smiled. “But you are an amazing inspiration, Okin. The other Athers say that you have never told a lie in your life.”

Okin looked down to the ground. “Yes. But recently I’ve realized that I’ve done quite little in the other aspects of my Dedication. It’s all about balance, Previa. A true follower of Aredal, especially one who leads the people as an Ather through example, well he must be the true form of Truth, Justice, and Bravery.”

The young Ather stared off into the distance, nodding.

“Come, let us go inside, it is getting dark,” Okin said. Previa snapped to his senses, and the two men entered their chambers, Okin closing the door behind them.

Saying goodnight to Previa and Gendro, Okin sat in his room alone. He pulled up the sleeve of his white robe, rubbing a finger over the image of a small star which was tattooed on his left wrist.

If only I had an opportunity, a path, so I could be practice what I preach— and become a true symbol of Justice and Bravery.