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Chapter 74 : Priestess
Latemorn of Quartus, Twenty-Sixth Day of Autumnmoon
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Mica left the fringes of her village for the first time in six years. Ever since she arrived on Minoa’s shores as a refugee, she never set foot from the comfort of her home. Life was good, and the Gaian Priesthood provided her with food, lodging, and scripture. She had no need to leave until now, the day she began her pilgrimage.
Becoming a full-fledged Priestess was all she wanted. Mother Gaia had provided for her, and now was her chance to provide for others. She had yet to choose whether to stay in Minoa or travel the world to spread the good news of the Goddess. Either way, becoming a Priestess was the first step.
She brought her new guide, the mysterious traveler from Angkor, former Gnostic Knight and sinner, who wanted to repent. There was no better companion to strengthen her faith than a man who had walked the Burning Pits himself.
She was quite curious about his life. She knew he led the Angkorian attack on the temple and assisted those who stole the sunstone. But, far more interesting was how Bram had become one of the world’s most fearsome soldiers, yet suddenly decided it wasn’t what he signed up for. She wondered how a man could live a life of evil and then suddenly repent. She hoped she would have the chance to ask him.
First, there was the matter of finding the old road connecting the temple in Minoa with the shrine at the Great Crevasse. It had sunk over the years and was now covered with weeds and grass, but there were still signs. Atop a grassy hill, about a league behind the temple, she brushed away a bit of earth from a small mound and discovered a stone fragment underneath. Written on top was Ancient Gaian script. She hadn’t learned how to read it yet, but she knew it belonged to the old road. She was on the right track.
She showed it to Bram, who regarded it curiously. She was happy to explain what little she knew. “The Ancient Gaians were surprisingly advanced in their architecture, you know. So much of it’s gone, now. Lost over the centuries as their numbers declined. But this stone remains and tells a story of their past.”
Bram tilted his head and sighed. “It’s a pity.”
Mica wondered what he meant. “How so?”
Bram looked closely at the stone, pointing to its sharp edges. “Just look at the craftsmanship. It’s cut as straight and precise as the stones making up your temple.” He pointed back down the hill. “It’s a magnificent structure that has withstood centuries of wear and tear. I’d say it’s superior to what Angkor can build, even with all our modern techniques.”
Mica was surprised to hear the greatest nation in the world failed to stack up against her humble, little village.
Bram continued. “Given the rate of innovation, I think about where we’d be today, if the Ancient Gaians were still around to improve upon their technology.”
“Oh!” Mica believed she understood. “You’re saying it’s a pity that they didn’t survive and continue innovating.”
Bram nodded. “Take our airships, for instance. I think about all that mankind has accomplished, and I can’t help but wonder how much farther we’d be, if the Ancient Gaian technology hadn’t been lost. We would have had a thousand more years of progress.”
Mica agreed. It was certainly something to ponder.
She started walking, taking the path further into the hills. While the north and west had dense tropical forests, the countryside was far more open. She felt the warmth of sunlight through her blue sorceress robes and admired the beautifully flowering trees that dotted the landscape. From a distance, they created a montage of azure and plum.
She thought of something that might be of interest to her companion. “You know, the old records tell us that the Ancient Gaians built a city, not too far from here. It was supposedly the greatest city of their civilization, and it included a temple that was so grand and magnificent that it would have made ours seem dainty by comparison.”
Bram furrowed his brows. “This city … I’m guessing it doesn't exist anymore, right? But, where could it have gone? Old roads get buried over time, I know, but cities of massive scale don’t just fall of the face of the planet.”
Mica contained a giggle. “Well, most of the time, they don’t.”
Bram looked confused, so she explained.
“The place we’re going, the Great Crevasse, is precisely where this city used to be. There’s not a lot of factual records to explain what happened, but some say a quake opened up and swallowed the city whole. We think there’s more to it, though. The Gurudeva tells us that the city’s fate was due to cataclysms brought about by the Ahrimen when they waged war against mankind.”
Bram looked stunned. “You mean the Omega War? I knew the Ahrimen were powerful, but it’s hard to imagine what it would take for an entire city to sink into the earth.”
It wasn’t Mica’s intent, but she understood that knowledge of the Ahrimen’s power could be demoralizing. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it makes sense that the Ahrimen would strike the city that contained the Goddess’s largest temple. They wanted to shatter mankind’s faith and make it so that others cities were more susceptible to their corruption.”
Bram looked troubled. “How do you know so much about them? The Ahrimen, I mean. I thought their secret was hidden by Transiens Veritas.”
“Ah, yes.” Mica tried to think of how she could explain it. “Ordinarily, the enchantment works on a single Sunstone Protector. However, our faith within the Gaian Priesthood has allowed us to extend the enchantment across our entire order. As soon as I became an Acolyte and recited the Words of Faith, I was able to comprehend the mysteries of the sunstone.”
Bram stared out at the cerulean sky. “That’s interesting. I wonder if the same goes for the Circle of Sorcerers in Vineta.”
Mica skipped along the path, as it descended into a wooded area. A wide, grassy avenue marked the way through the trees.
“I can’t say I know much about Vineta. I’ve never been.”
Bram followed close behind. “What about our destination? Tell me about the shrine. Is it part of the original city?”
Mica shook her head. “No, the shrine came long after the city was gone. I think of it as a memorial of what had once been. It’s tended by an old hermit. Priests and priestesses in training have made pilgrimages there many times throughout the ages. It’s a requirement to become part of the clergy. If they reach the shrine and are judged worthy, they return with new insights and wisdom.”
Bram looked intrigued. “Who judges them? This hermit you mentioned? Who is he?”
Mica shrugged before climbing over a fallen tree that blocked the path. Its trunk was almost as wide as she was tall. She needed to step on some branches for leverage.
“Not much is known about him, actually. Only that he goes by the name Asura Mazda, and he’s been around for longer than anyone remembers. Some say he’s a direct descendent of the Ancient Gaians and uses life extension magic to keep himself alive.”
Bram hopped over the tree effortlessly. “Life extension? I’ve never heard of such a thing. If it were possible for scholars to live longer, why wouldn’t they all do it? If scholars started outliving laymen, you’d think we’d all know.”
Mica scolded herself for being so reckless with sensitive information. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but I guess there’s no harm in explaining, now that you know.”
She stepped carefully across a small stream that cut through the path. A few rocks jutted above the surface. She stepped gingerly on top, careful not to slip into the water.
“It’s actually not common knowledge, but certain powerful scholars have found methods to extend their lifespans. It’s not expressly forbidden by the Scholar’s Creed, but scholars don’t endorse it, either. I suppose many believe it would worsen the social divide between us and laymen. After all, if folks found out we could cheat death, even a little bit, it wouldn’t go over very well. Then again, no one lives forever. Lifespans can only be extended by twenty or thirty years, at most, and the rituals are extremely complex. I don’t think even the Gurudeva could add more than that, and he’s the most capable scholar in Minoa. If Asura Mazda is truly centuries old, as the rumors say, it’s only by using very old magic. The kind that’s pretty much been lost to history.”
Bram followed her across the stream. His athletic grace made her almost envious. He must have made a fine soldier.
“If this hermit is so powerful, why does he live at the Great Crevasse, rather than use his skills to benefit the rest of the Priesthood? If he’s so dedicated to Gaia, wouldn’t he be better off teaching his skills to others?”
Mica shrugged. “I’m sure he has his reasons. The scripture warns us not to be jealous of the power of others. We should never covet that which we have yet to master for ourselves. True strength comes from a person’s own research and dedication, not just the spells they learn from others. We have to ‘learn how to learn’, as they say.”
Before leaving the stream, Bram picked up a small stone and threw it at the water. It skipped several times before disappearing underneath. “What do others say about Asura? Do you know anyone who’s met him?”
Mica was slightly distracted by Bram’s trick. Next time they reached a bed of water, she wanted to try it herself. “I don’t think anyone has met him face to face. I’ve heard from some of the other Priestesses that the shrine appears different for every person. They describe it almost like a dream, where they confront certain truths about themselves. Anyone who hasn’t been invited or isn’t worthy won’t see anything at all. Just an empty shrine.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Bram paused a bit before asking his next question. “What kind of truth do you expect to find there, Mica?”
It caught her off guard. She hadn’t thought too hard about it, but there was something she secretly desired. “Well, to be honest, I’m secretly hoping to be the one mentioned in the prophesy.”
She looked to Bram, anticipating that he’d ask her to explain what the prophesy was all about.
“You mean the part about the Savior?”
She was shocked. “I didn’t expect a visitor like yourself to know anything about it. It might be common knowledge inside Minoa, but how’d you learn about it?”
Bram slowed his hike and wore a thoughtful expression. “The Gurudeva mentioned it the first time I was here. He didn’t elaborate, of course. But I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking back to that experience. I’ve been curious what he meant.”
Mica was impressed that Bram could recall such details. She was happy to explain.
“The Prophesy was given to the Gurudeva, when he was an Acolyte in training, some thirty years ago. As soon as he returned from his Pilgrimage, he made sure everybody knew about it. It foretold that someone would attempt to steal the sunstone, many years into the future. However, it also said that soon after, someone would emerge from the Great Crevasse as the Savior, and they would have the power to save the world from evil.”
Bram quickened his pace. “I see. And you’d like to be this Savior?”
Mica felt a rush of excitement just thinking about it. “Who wouldn’t? Not that I crave the power or reputation, mind you. But knowing that there’s a Savior gives everyone in Minoa a lot of confidence. Besides, I’ve always wanted to make a positive difference in the world. I think it’d be fitting. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’d be happy no matter who becomes the Savior.”
Bram smiled. “I can’t think of a more deserving person than you, Mica. I think the Savior should be kind and generous. Someone who always sees good in people. Someone … who is incorruptible and is willing to put others first. I think you’re all these things, and I’d be honored to be at your side, if you’re the chosen one.”
Mica felt herself blush. “Uh … thank you. Your praise, it’s quite reverent, but … also appreciated.”
Bram laughed, but she didn’t seem to think it was all that funny. He seemed to realize he had overstepped.
“I apologize. I wasn’t mocking you. In fact, I find you to be as humble as you are kind. I’m sure it’s a common trait, here in Minoa. I just wish people on the Northern Continent were like you. That’s all.”
Mica was curious. It seemed like the right moment to pose the question she was yearning to ask. “Tell me, Bram. I’ve only known you a few hours, but you seem so kind and genuine. How did you ever get involved with the Gnostic Knights? Didn’t you know that they were the epitome of mercilessness and murder?”
Mica could tell right away her question struck a chord.
Bram’s expression quickly grew dour. “In retrospect, it’s obvious I made a poor choice. Things were different, back when I was growing up. At the time, the reputation of the Knight’s was quite good. At least, from the standpoint in my village in Angkor.
He told Mica of how he grew up in Providence and the love he received from the man who raised him. His village sounded a lot like Minoa.
“It sounds like you had a good life growing up. What made you want to leave?”
Bram took a deep breath. “I think leaving was inevitable. I always believed there was something more to my life. I was ambitious. Driven. But I also wanted to do good and help others.”
Mica could relate, since she wanted the same thing. But it seemed so unlikely that a wholesome boy growing up in an altruistic village could ever be corrupted by the Knights.
“What happened? Surely, there was a point when you realized being a Gnostic was different from what you intended.”
Bram’s voice was shaky. “There were signs, but I didn’t recognize them right away. And, perhaps, I didn’t want to recognize them. Growing up poor in Angkor meant that a person probably never left the farm they grew up on. There were plenty of other talented young men and women in my region, but they never had the chance to choose a different life. They got married, had children, and worked their fields. That was all there was for them.”
Mica was beginning to understand. “I see. You were different. You needed something to enrich you that village life couldn’t provide, and you saw the Gnostics as a path to get there.”
Bram nodded. “I had skills and high aptitude, so I applied for the Academy, Angkor’s institution of higher learning. I was lucky to get accepted. However, by the time I started classes, The War had already begun. Students at the Academy were well educated and an obvious choice for new recruits. It’s hard to convey this to someone who didn’t grow up in Angkor, but from our perspective, we believed we were fighting for justice, and we wanted Angkor to win. So when we had the chance, ninety-five percent of my graduating class joined the military.”
Mica’s memories of her old life were short and painful. “The War started shortly after I was born. I never knew anything other than conflict.”
Bram’s expression sunk even lower, but he listened.
“My family was poor, too, and many nights we went without food. Some of my earliest memories involved searching the refuse heaps for half-eaten vegetables. I remember my parents packing our belongings many times growing up. We never lived in the same village for more than a year. I believe they tried to steer clear of active conflict zones, but from year to year, battles shifted, and I don’t think anywhere stayed safe for long.”
Bram’s expression became more empathetic. “You must have traveled to Minoa as a refugee, then?”
Mica nodded. “I left Koba when I was ten. A Gnostic Knight led an attack on the village where we were living. It was supposed to be a neutral zone, but I think that was the whole point. They wanted to sow confusion into the Koban army by attacking civilian centers. And based on what I learned later, it was very effective. That is, if you believe that winning was more important than the moral or ethical costs.”
Bram froze. “Then … your parents ….”
Mica shook her head. “So many people were slaughtered that day. Many of them burned in the fires that Angkor started. I was only ten years old. A stranger took me by the hand and dragged me so hard it dislocated my shoulder. But I was grateful. We made it to a port town so we could sail away and leave Koba for good. I was glad to be on that boat. All I ever knew on the Northern Continent was death and destruction.”
Bram had turned completely white. “Mica, I’m so sorry. I ….”
Mica stopped her march. Bram couldn’t keep pace, and she had to change the subject before she sent him spiraling into another depression. “Listen, Bram, I don’t hold you responsible. Just because you were a Knight, doesn’t mean you had anything to do with it.”
Tears ran down his cheeks. “You don’t know that.”
She tried to make sense of it. “What do you mean? Are you telling me you were there?”
The man was visibly shaken. “It’s not like they told us to murder civilians. But we had orders to clear a path through the neutral territories, so the armies could march through and cut the enemy off at their flank. If we didn’t, we believed they would go through our own populated territories.”
It was a stunning admission. Mica struggled to find a silver lining. If Bram was one of the Gnostic Knights that attacked her village, she wondered if she could even pretend to forgive him. She didn’t want to be a hypocrite. She had to think it through.
“You say you were trying to protect your own people, right? But … how can you justify a preemptive attack? Through a civilian village?”
His face went from white to red. He was sweating. “You don’t have to believe me. I sometimes don’t believe it, myself. But when you’re at war, your mind plays tricks on you. You forget about right or wrong. All you do is try to survive, day by day.”
She didn’t understand. It sounded like a jumbled mess. “But, how do you justify attacking civilians? Because they were in your way?”
He just started sobbing. It was gentle at first, but then the tears flowed.
“It was always just a small step at a time. Joining the Knight’s was one of the happiest days of my life. We were supposed to be protectors. But as the war worsened, sacrifices had to be made. We made concessions. A little here, a little there. At first, the missions weren’t so bad. But then they got harder. At one point, I thought about resigning. But then … it got easy again. Because of what I had already done.”
Mica believed she understood. “You were desensitized to the violence. And it became easier to accept morally corrupt decisions. At some point, there was no more black and white. It was all gray.”
Bram’s knees buckled, and he sank to the soft ground. He lowered his head and sobbed. “I was in Koba toward the end of The War. I could have been the one who killed your parents. What I did … is unforgivable. I deserve your hate.”
Mica felt herself tear up. She approached and tried to get him to face her. “I can’t hate you, because … because I don’t fear you, Bram. All I feel is pity.”
Tears streamed from his face. “Why? I don’t deserve your pity, either.”
She tried to explain. “Listen. You understand what you’ve done. I can’t hate a man so riddled with guilt that he can’t even look at me!”
He tried to wipe the tears away, but more came. “I’ve never faced judgment for the people I’ve killed. It’s not right. Others are sentenced to death for less. Why have I never received justice!”
“Bram, stop it!” Her heart was bleeding just seeing him grovel before her. She had to put an end to his spiral. “I understand you want to hate yourself, because there’s no one else to tell you that what you did was loathsome. But what’s done is done. Your eyes are now open, and you should feel the weight of your crimes. It’s clearly crushing you.”
He nodded while teardrops dribbled from his chin.
Mica approached and forced him to look at her. “Even so, you must understand: it’s never too late to seek redemption. I can’t promise you that you won’t someday face the justice of man’s laws. But when it comes to the Goddess, She loves you no matter what. Even if you choose not to believe, it doesn’t mean you can’t find peace and forgiveness.”
He shook his head. “How? How can I not despise myself for what I’ve done.”
She wiped his tear streaked cheeks with her thumb and took him by the hands. “Only by giving yourself a little forgiveness at a time. Please, stand up and help me on my journey, then forge your own path. You have a lifetime left to do good works, and those will slowly undo the pain you’re feeling. I’ll pray, too, that the Goddess grant you grace and forgiveness.”
He returned to his feet, sobbing and chuckling at the same time. “I see your point, Mica. I can’t keep on wallowing in guilt. I need to face my demons, or I’ll never be good for anything.”
She smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
He looked better. The natural color slowly returned to his face, and his voice no longer cracked. He took a deep breath.
“We, uh … have a long trip ahead of us. According to the Gurudeva, it’s four or five days of hiking, and we were given minimal supplies. We’ll need to hunt and forage along the way, as well as steer clear of spawn.”
Mica offered a bit of advice. “Spawn aren’t too common around here, but we might encounter some as we get close to the crevasse. I’m sorry we weren’t able to find you a weapon, but I do know quite a few spells. Finding food should be trivial. If you set up camp, I’ll gather something for us to eat. Unfortunately, I’m not that good at accelerated travel. Whenever I try, it uses up all my manna.”
She noticed that something seemed to have caught Bram’s attention. He wandered over to the side of the trail to what looked like a wispy weed. He looked quite pleased to have found it. He bent down and gently brushed the dust off its weathered leaves.
“What’s that?” Mica craned her neck to see.
He smiled widely. “A good friend of mine once showed me what to do with these roots.”
He dug around the plant, exposing its base. “See this? It’s a special kind of sugar beet called Heart of Gold, a favorite of wild viscars.”
Mica was surprised. “Wild viscar? I had no idea there were any around here. I thought they were all in captivity.”
The discovery seemed to put Bram in good spirits. “Not all. They’re rare, but if there is a grove nearby, these beets will lure them out of hiding.”
She had heard about viscars before, but never rode on top of one. She felt excited at the prospect. “It sounds positively wonderful and will help us reach the crevasse in no time.”
Bram held up an index finger. “If we’re lucky.”
He dug up a few more beets and led her off the main path. They smelled wonderfully sweet and pleasant. After a few minutes of searching, Bram led her to a large clearing.
He left the beets in the center and waited. After a few minutes, one of the majestic creatures emerged from behind some trees. The creature approached and ate the offering, its sharp teeth crunching through loudly. Bram approached with more vegetables in hand. Before long, the animal ate straight out of his hand.
Its pointed ears fluttered as it made itself comfortable on the soft forest floor. Once full and comfortable in the presence of humans, Bram guided the viscar back to the main trail. He even gave Mica one of the beets, so she could feed it, herself.
Once back on the main path, he assisted her with climbing on its back. It was a little awkward, but the creature was docile and patient. He gave her a few suggestions on the best posture for traveling in tandem. Once she was comfortably seated, the two pressed onward toward the crevasse.