The village was a bleak place.
The road he walked along was dry and cracked, soon to turn into a sludgy mess of mud and ooze come Frost. The homes nicer than those on the periphery but only marginally. Single story homes with walls of bamboo and roofs made of thatched Ouy and mud.
Smoke rose into the air from roughly constructed stone chimneys, it was a miracle the village hand’t burned down with how shoddy the construction around here was.
Though, perhaps having people who could shoot [Orbs of Water] on stand-by was quite effective.
Tyrian entered the village from the southern side, the farm side. To the north, the lands became more and more hilly, turning to rolling hills then the obfuscated shimmer of mountains in the far distance. A single main road/mud and dirt path sliced through the village, where it led to — he didn’t know.
This was perhaps the most people he’d seen since being born. The streets were filled with people hand-carting materials, bamboo or Ouy, and even some odd looking metals to and fro. The noise was somewhat overwhelming as Tyrian had become accustomed to the peace of the periphery. Most of the people here looked like his father and Aunty Amun, dark hair and farm tanned skin. Thin with stringy bands of muscle from a lives of toil.
Tyrian approached a stall set-up on the side of the road. It was filled with an assortment of fruits, vegetables and herbs he had never seen before. Behind the cart was a bored looking young woman resting her face on her palm. Her dark hair had been tied into a one long braid, a style that Tyrian had noticed to be quite popular.
“Hello.” Tyrian said as he approached. The woman gave him a cursory glance before responding without even looking at him.
“Fruits are a half-orba, herbs are bundled, 1 orba—” She monotoned at him before he cut her off.
“—Sorry, miss, I’m actually looking for someone named Aunty Amun?” He asked apologetically, there was something he related to in her demeanor, as if he had seen that soulless thousand yard stare a million times.
The woman sighed, “Amun? The Acolyte? She works at the Temple, duh?”
Tyrian wanted to ask her where the Temple was, but felt a distinct sense of dread at the idea of pestering the woman anymore.
“Thank you.” He said, bowing his head a little and walking away.
After awhile of aimlessly wandering around, trying to locate the said the Temple, dodging the hustle of hand-carts and people lugging around Ouy and other miscellaneous furs to and fro. Towards the end of the road, in the center of the village he caught sight of the largest building he had seen so far. Its bright white stone columns and walls stood out like sore-thumbs amidst the depressing mass of mud and bamboo homes. The contrast between the buildings was so jarring that Tyrian thought he was hallucinating for a moment.
That looks pretty temple-esque.
He was surprised he didn’t see the massive structure from a distance, yet also remembered the fact that he was the height of a five year old.
Two-story tall columns lined the front of the temple. They supported a large triangular gabled roof that sloped down on either side. High above the pillars emblazoned into the white stone were five figures, all looking mighty holy and staring down at anyone who dared enter their hollowed halls.
Tyrian couldn’t help but marvel at the structure, exaggerated perhaps due to his current stature.
“Can we help you little one?” A voice called out to him.
Tyrian jumped out of his awed stupor to see a woman dressed head to toe in plain white robes. She had a face one would describe as pure with round plump cheeks and large golden eyes.
“Ah! Yes, I’m looking for Aunty Amun?” Tyrian replied, trying to recollect himself. The temple was just so jarring he was finding it hard to tear his eyes away. The columns were topped by simple yet elegant capitals, eerily reminiscent of the ancient temples around the Mediterranean of his own Earth.
“Acolyte Amun? Yes, she’s here, but why are you looking for her child?” The robed lady asked, it wasn’t interrogative, more curious than anything.
Tyrian paused, but had already prepared a response in his head on the way here. “She told me I could ask her about my Orb if I needed any help!” He replied in the most pure child-like voice he could, which wasn’t hard since he was indeed a child.
The lady smiled, “Well, how kind of her. Come now, shall we go look for her? I’m Initiate Corina, but you can call me big sister…?” She said clearly happy about the task at hand.
“Yes, I’m Tyrian, and thank you big sister.” Tyrian replied, Corina beamed at his words, taking his small hand and bringing up the steps into the temple. Just outside were a couple of guards, dressed in the same white robes. The only difference was the bulk of armor underneath their garments and the iron spears held at their side. The two smiled at Corina while giving a cursory glance at Tyrian.
The inside was a grand sight, a long hall of braziers and columns stretched to a grand statue that dominated the entire hall. Four other statues flanked its sides, but were only half the height. The large statue was of a woman, dressed in white robes with a pair of wings behind her back. Her face was veiled in marble, the stone so masterfully crafted that it looked almost soft to the touch.
“Welcome to one of the many minor Temples of Lumia, Tyrian, quite a wonderful sight is it not?” Corina asked with fervor. Tyrian nodded, listening to her explanations of the five statutes.
“Gaia, Igni, Aquil, Zephi and above them all, Lady of Light Lumia.” She explained. The rest of the statutes were similarly constructed, but paled in comparison to Lumia.
There was quite a few people within the hall, all robed like Corina was, carrying scrolls of paper to and fro or giving a group of villagers a sermon.
Corina led him through a side hall of the temple, “This is our Healer wing, where our Initiates and Priests help care for the wounded.” She explained as we passed by drawn curtains. Tyrian caught a glimpse of a man being tended to by another robed individual, her hands were covered in a soft yellow light as she muttered an inaudible chant.
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Before he could hear anymore he was dragged away until they both stepped out of into a large courtyard full of fruit trees, flowers and a well in its center. There he spotted Aunty Amun, drawing water from the well via a crank, she was dressed in the same rough clothing as he was, the muscles on her back bulging as she worked to draw up a bucket of water.
“Acolyte Amun, it seems you have a guest.” Corina said softly from behind. Aunty Amun looked behind her and almost gasped before a large smile filled her lips.
“Oh little Tyrian! What are you doing here? Apologies Initiate, he is still young only a couple days fresh of his fifth year.” Amun said while dropping the bucket and bring Tyrian into a big hug.
“No worries Acolyte Amun, he was very polite, his manners are quite lovely.” She replied with a smile, “Fresh from his fifth year you say?” She inquired.
Oh fuck.
Tyrian quickly tried pulling himself from Aunty Amun’s grasp, but found himself unable to break free from her death-grip. His lungs compressed to even take a breath.
“Yes! And an [Orb of Light]! No less, Lady Lumia smiles upon this boy.” Aunty Amun revealed, Tyrian cringed at the words, a sweat breaking out on his brow.
“Oh?” Corina said, now curious. “Is this true Tyrian?” She asked.
Aunty Amun let Tyrian go, only for him to pause as a nervous grasp slowly crept down his spine. “Er… no?” He said, praying that they wouldn’t dig any deeper.
Aunty Amun’s brows raised in surprise at this. “What! But you said you didn’t receive an [Orb of Water] like your father? So it must be Light like your mother?” She asked confused.
“Ah… um… it’s not either of them…” He said meekly.
Aunty Amun and Corina shared a perplexed look. Corina bent down, and lightly held Tyrians shoulders. “That is fine Tyrian, so what Orb do you have?” She asks.
Oh divines… please don’t burn me at the stake, please don’t burn me at the stake PLEASE!
“Um… its [Orb of…]”
“…[Orb]”
“Huh? Orb of what?” Corina asks again.
Tyrian cleared his little throat, “[Orb of Orb].”
A silence fills the courtyard. Tyrian was sweating bullets now, and he could feel Corina’s grip on his shoulders tightening.
“Little Tyrian, that’s not possible.” Aunty Amun said behind him.
“Show us.” Corina says, her voice devoid of any of the warmth it previously held. She releases him and steps back, her hands hidden in the hems of her robes.
Tyrian swallows, lifting his palm to the sky. He focuses on the energy inside of him and carefully pulls it outwards like he had done before, after a couple breaths time a small nail-sized sphere of translucent energy appears. Aunty Amun gasps and Corina’s brow furrows deeply.
“Thats not possible!” Aunty Amun exclaims once more, stepping backwards in surprise.
Corina approaches Tyrian, examining the Orb closely. “I don’t sense any darkness from it… how peculiar. Tyrian, you will need to come with and meet the High-priestess, and perhaps undergo Purification.”
Tyrian tensed, “Does it… hurt?” He asks, trying to gauge the process. He knew he had no choice in the matter. They’d force him regardless.
Corina smiles, “Not unless you’re a demon.”
—
Tyrian was standing in the center of a dark room towards the back of the Temple. Surrounding him was a gaggle of robed Initiates and Priests, all whispering to one another in hushed voices. The dim firelight of four braziers burned away from the corners casting dancing shadows along the walls.
Tyrian couldn’t make out the whispers, his back drenched in a layer of nervous sweat. This was the worst outcome he could’ve imagined, in hindsight he should’ve immediately turned around the moment he found out that Aunty Amun worked at the Temple.
“Silence.” A female voice calls out. A woman steps forwards from the crowd, dressed in the same white garb, but with golden accents along the edges of her robes. She looked to be of a higher status that the others, her eyes subtly glowing a radiant holy light.
The room goes quiet at her words, and Tyrian’s muscles tense when her gaze falls upon him.
“I am high-priestess Elenar, you are Tyrian?” She asks, her voice smoothing to the ears like Sprig day.
Tyrian nods.
“And it is true that you have no Divine blessing?” She asks again, the last part sounding incredulous.
Tyrian can only nod once more.
“Demonstrate your so called, [Orb of Orb].” She orders, a small but quickly stifled rush of whispers tears through the room at her words.
This could be it, death at 5, burned at the stake for heathenism.
Tyrian opens his hand to bare his palm, taking a deep breath he conjures his translucent Orb of energy once more.
The moment the nail-sized Orb appears a chorus of whispers breaks out through the crowd.
“Impossible!”
“It cannot be!”
“Sacrilege!”
“Oh Divines!”
Many of the surrounding Initiates & Priests cry out in surprise. High-priestest Elenar’s eyes sharpen as she gazes down at the translucent Orb.
She raises her hand and the room goes silent once more.
“You call this… [Orb of Orb]?” She asks, her words sharp.
“Yes.” Tyrian replies.
High-priestess Elenar examines him, looking Tyrian up and down as if she was examining a chicken for slaughter.
“Will you submit to Purification?” She says, though the words don’t feel like a question at all.
“I don’t feel like I have a choice.” Tyrian replies and she chuckles.
“No. You do not.”
Elenar snaps her fingers and four Priests step forwards. Tyrian can only watch and pray to whatever Divine would listen as they all extended their hands towards him.
Without delay, the four priests hand begin to glow, as a chant echoes through the room.
“Lumia, grant us divine sight.”
“Bare upon us, the truth in your might.”
“Reveal to us! PURIFICATION LIGHT!”
The room turns to day as an overwhelming blanket of light devours all of the darkness and shadows. Tyrian goes blind, unable to see as his senses are overwhelmed. He feels a warmth embrace him, like he was being wrapped in a blanket of pure heated silk.
Almost as immediately as the ritual begins, it ends.
The shadows return, eyes slowly adjusting back to normal.
And there, in the center of the room, Tyrian is unscathed — if a little bewildered.
“Uh… does this mean I’m ok?” Tyrian asks nervously, breaking the silence.
Elenar’s sight softens, seemingly placated by the result of the purification. “Yes. You have been cleared of any dark influence, but… the nature of your Orb is quite perplexing. Say, little one, would you like a job?”