Pas'Arai. Known as the city of temples, and there were many. The Bone Temple of Nazveth, the Temple of Drakus the Five Headed, The Wind Temple of Urus, Lightbringer's Temple, Temple of the Elephant God Kalgrash, Manumokus' Many Chambered Hall, the Celestial Temple of Torn, the Night Temple of Ba'lea, to name a few were all within blocks of each other all competing for their follower's loyalty and devotion. The spiritual city, contained the world's holiness within its walls, kept alive by work and prayer. At its center stood no temple, but a carving of the multitude of gods balanced on a solid sphere that was the world. It was a reminder, that which bound the city together in unity. That so many religions within the same space could tolerate each other was nothing short of a miracle.
From the north side of the city Adria's Falls constantly poured its liquid spirit into the River of Lost Memories that continually moved along the basin. Steps lead down where worshippers could bathe, deposit flowers or tiny rafts with offerings of food, candles, and such. Soiling the river with refuse including human was a punishable offense by death, for the water was that which belonged to the Gods and was to be shared by the mortals. Guards from each of the temples stood post to make sure the waters remained pure.
Mink removed his slippers at the base of the bright white marble steps leading to the river. The water would be ice cold, he thought for it was the beginnings of winter and the first light snow fall. His pale feet were soft, strings of blue veins showing. Around him was a robe of pale yellow, the color of La'llar the Light Keeper whose brothers were Lunavous the Light Bringer, and Loma the Light's Extinguisher.
He stroked his short beard and ran fingers through his long hair tied back with a chef that had the symbol of a sun with rays emanating outwards. Wading through to his knees, he placed the jar of golden honey, on a small raft and pushed it out amongst the other rafts with offerings. Kneeling, he drew the circle of light in the air as was the ritual of worship. He hoped the honey would appease the Great One in all his luminous greatness.
La'llar the Light Keeper
O, May his shining glory
Offer peace and serenity to his many children
And smite all that is dark of heart, inner evils
And disperse the shadows that stretch across the mind
O La'llar
May you bless us
Bless us all
After several moments of the meditative silent prayer, he rose to his feet and turned back up the steps to feast at the Maud Prasaha.
The bowl made a clinking noise as the wooden spoon scooped in hot meal. Steam rose from the light brown substance of grains and spices into Mink's nostrils. He smiled saying a prayer of thanks before moving down the line. A soft cream-colored roll freshly baked was put on to his plate by another server, a clean-shaven man wearing a scaled flap down the sides of his ears, a member of the Biirus Sect. The Biirus worshiped the great scaled bird Ryptarus, who believed that birds were the children of an ancient kind of giant lizard that roamed the plains and jungles. Mink didn't know what to think of that, La'llar made all things through his light, land animals, fish, the birds, the large and tiny insects, and man. There was no mention in the texts that he knew, of giant lizard like creatures.
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Mink carried his tray to an empty space on the floors carpet and sat down eager for his meal. He hadn't eaten all day. Next to his left sat a man extremely slender with colorful tattoos running down his bare arms. The followers of Drakus were required to have the deities image sealed to their body in a visible area. Some chose their arms, others who could bear the pain chose their face. Mink acknowledged him with a smile, as the man was in the middle of a bite, nodded back. Mink dove his spoon into the meal, scooping it into his mouth with a quiet elegance.
"So, the Aurora Archives has a new wing added onto it." Am're broke the quiet eating, eyeing Mink and the tattooed man. His leaned into the space over the trays of food. "Down in the basements, deep down." he spoke in a whisper. He waited for Mink to reply, when he was silent, he took a bite of his roll and chewed vigorously.
Mink took a sip of water and cleared his throat.
"It must contain something valuable if it's hidden from the publics eyes." Am're continued.
Mink looked at him skeptically. Of all the years he knew Am're being a fellow worshipper of La'llar, he resented his compulsion to snoop and pry into things he had no business knowing. It all started with the sugar drops. Sugar processed from cane was banned within a variety of faiths including La'llar, it was said that the sweet of the natural fruit and leaf were all that was needed. But at six years of age, Am're had found that one of the monks was making sugar drops secretively. He had managed to sneak in and steal a few for himself and made it a point of pride to tell Mink about it. Mink had kept quiet. He was never a close friend of Am're, but still felt wrong in telling on him. Maybe that was a mistake, for if Am're learned his lesson then, he may have turned out differently.
"The Aurora Archives..." Mink said. And where did you get all this information from?" Spying again?"
"No. The monks who are Bookkeeper Havvarandither's aides were the ones spying. I merely listened to what they relayed."
Mink sighed. Of course, he thought. It was not unheard of to have trusted members within the sect who would 'spy'. Mink had a couple himself. Monks of La'llar who would gather gossip from here and there. He didn't have nearly the same number as Am're. He couldn't imagine the access he must have.
Mink turned towards the tattooed disciple eating next to him. The man was engaged with a parcieth from the Ozar Faith of the Stars. Mink kept his speech to low volumes.
"So, what about the Aurora Archives?" Mink said interested but hesitant. "Do you know what this new wing will contain?"
"As I said something of great value I'd imagine. Else why would they hide it?"
"They?" Mink said.
"Yes the..." Am're stopped and took a sip of water. Mink noticed that a trail of disciples in white and blue robes were walking through the rugs and gave them a strange look. Mink gave them a nod of acknowledgement. They nodded back before moving on.
"Come into the prayer room later, and we'll talk more." Mink said to Am're. Am're nodded, and that was that. They began talking about other things, how their daily tasks were going, the politics of the temple, even whether the recent floors had been washed of the markings that had been made by suspected ruffians.
Am're wiped the last bit of his meal with the remaining soft roll then got up and left, leaving Mink to finish his meal. He once again was attuned to the sounds of the Maud Prasha, the scraping of bowls, clatter of cups, and the sounds of low conversation.