The town of Oxby had been a sleepy settlement of little consequence since its beginning two centuries earlier. Whitewashed cottages with thatched roofs dotted the rolling green hills of the valley that lay between the mountains of two kingdoms that had waged war with one another for decades. To Oxby’s southwest lay the empire of Birming, to its northeast, the kingdom of Caltania.
The air was always cool in Oxby, even at the highest point of the summer months, and from spring until late summer, its lush grasses were always dotted with white wildflowers. In the fall, the blooms shifted to violet until the first frost heralded the nearing arrival of winter.
Most of the villagers that resided there owned sheep, and twice a year when they sheared their herds, two or three of the farmers with a son or two would take the wool to the nearest city that was a four day cart ride away on the other side of the northeast mountain to the city of Fjorn of the Caltania kingdom.
However, the quaint tranquil village boomed in population when Caltania united with the Birming Empire to its southwest.
While most of Caltania’s people didn’t mind joining the empire, there was no shortage of skirmishes and rebellious groups after the merger’s conclusion that continued to crop up and wreck havoc. This meant that the heroes who had led warriors to the battlefield, and the most brilliant minds of their time, were not yet permitted to rest.
Oxby, one of the Birming Empire’s most northern villages, was one of the places that had transformed the most as a result of the union between the two lands. Its previous rustic origins faded away in light of becoming one of the most convenient points between the former kingdom of Caltania and their empire. In a matter of a decade, cobbled roads appeared, businesses sprung up and flourished, and all of these changes were thanks to the military presence that had flooded in seemingly overnight.
With such developments, it warranted the building of a chapel for those seeking a place of meditation and worship for the gods…
A small nearly forgotten building, constructed of light gray stones, with its shutters and door painted bright red and a big brass bell covered by a small peak of the roof. It fit in with the rest of the charming houses and storefronts it found itself nestled between, but it was missing one very important piece that most had forgotten about in the year it sat empty…
It needed a monk.
***
“I refuse! Absolutely not!”
“Come now, Brother Lou, you would ignore the responsibilities that come with such an honor? The God Reckish hasn’t annointed a priest in nearly a hundred years!”
“Well he chose wrong. He should have chosen Brother Harold. He loves carousing with the soldiers,” Lou grumbled irritably.
The two men stood in the abbot’s vestry, the lone circular window illuminating the small stone room with its pale light.
A simple wooden screen for changing robes sat in one of its corners, a brown velvet armchair that had its fabric worn away in its cushion sat before the cold hearth. To the abbot’s left sat a large worn red elm desk scattered with notes and holy texts, and of course: a wall full of carefully painted depictions of the thirteen gods all framed in gold behind the desk.
“Reckish would not make such a mistake. He is one of our most revered gods, and must have made his decision after careful consideration,” the abbott chuckled, he was a man in his early fifties with a kind smile and small blue eyes. His very presence was the core of peace that the Belhae Abbey was notorious for.
“He must have, though! Abbot, please! I only wish to live peacefully as a monk here in Belhae Abbey. You know I have no ambitions other than to tend the garden, clean the chapel, listen to the truths of the people, transcribe-”
“I know you are comfortable here, Brother Lou. However, greatness has summoned you. It would not do for you to ignore the destiny that Reckish has chosen for you.” The abbott approached the younger man who remained facing the window with his hands clasped tightly behind his back.
At first Brother Lou didn’t move as he continued staring out the pristine glass towards the cloudy sky, as though waiting for the heavens to open to reveal the gods that would themselves declare that they had been playing a cruel joke.
“Lou,” the abbott began more quietly, his voice warm. “I know this isn’t what you wanted-”
“It’s the opposite reason I joined the brotherhood, Carrey, and you know it. All I wanted was to have a bit of peace, and to share that peace with anyone who looked for it.”
At last, Lou turned to stare at his superior, his deep green eyes sharp with stress, his square jaw clamped shut.
“Lou, you know as well as I do, the gods often gift power to those who don’t wish for it because they know it won’t be abused,” the abbott continued gently, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Reckish has never done so. He always picks the eager heroes. The ones who burn to save others in battle, and in their glory, herald his great power,” Lou pointed out tightly, his sandaled toes swiveling away from the window.
“Reckish hasn’t chosen a priest for a long time, Lou. It’s possible he wished to take a different approach. It is not for us to assume the intentions of the gods. We can only abide by their ruling and carry out our duties to the best of our abilities.”
“I’m not going to join the military, Carrey. No matter what you say. If Reckish truly chose me, then he would know that I’d rather be executed than become a war priest.”
The abbott hesitated as he studied his protege’s firm expression. There wasn’t an ounce of softness in the thirty-two year old’s face, and for once his gaze did not wander off with his thoughts.
Carrey let out a long breath, while shaking his head gently. “I will send word to the Great Temple of Zeviras and see what they think. Tonight you will have your first visit from Reckish in your dreams, perhaps he will offer you some guidance.”
Lou’s hands fell to his side and clenched into fists as he fought the urge to argue more adamantly that no matter what Reckish or the Great Temple’s priests said, he was not going to join the military. Not a chance in the seven levels of hell.
***
“A bright day to you, Abbot Carrey.”
“A bright day to you as well, High Priestess Angela Visto.”
“I came as quickly as I could. What ‘issue’ with the recent Imbolsic Day could possibly force you to summon me?”
“Ah, well… I apologize for the inconvenience, but it seems we received three new priests. A most welcome blessing of course, however-”
“Three new priests?! How wonderful! Abbott, you must have created a harmonious environment that the Gods appreciate. Blessings to you!”
“Thank you for your kind words, however-”
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“I’m sure with this surge of new priests you will be flooded with applicants to join the abbey. Of course I do not wish to impede on your work for long with such glad tidings and holy work ahead of you, so please feel free to discuss freely with me the important matter that required you to summon me.”
The abbott managed to press his lips together in a polite smile as the high priestess made her way to the chapel that sat empty during the midday meal.
Typically early morning, the luncheon hour, and early evening was when the monks tended to the gardens or ate their meals, and so this offered a perfect opportunity for a private word…
When the squeak of the iron hinges signaled the closing of the wooden doors behind him, Carrey regarded the high priestess, and as always, couldn’t help but feel awe over her heavenly aura.
She was tall– as tall as many men in fact. Her black hair was long and woven beautifully with several small braids, her dark skin was always aglow, and her eyes… the color of olives that shimmered, as though Zeviras himself lived and breathed in her body. She wore her ceremonial white and gold robes, with a periwinkle dress made of a rich material underneath, her long willow staff with its thirteen twinkling crystals embedded in its grains clutched in her right hand.
“High Priestess, do you happen to remember a monk I took in six years ago? He was older for one to join the brotherhood, but we made an exception in his case as it was clear it was the will of the gods?”
The priestess frowned and turned to face the abbot squarely, her hand gripping her staff shifting. “Are you talking about Brother Lou?”
“Yes, Brother Lou. You recall his… disposition?”
The priestess’s stiff expression melted into a heavenly smile. “Has he been chosen as a priest for our dear Goddess Heleka of peace and sleep?”
“I’m afraid not, High Priestess.”
The holy leader’s serene expression didn’t falter as she shook her head and waved her hand. “Ah, so Gojun, our God of food has claimed another. He has selected a great number of priests through the years that-”
“It… isn’t Gojun… Priestess…”
Her smile finally beginning to dim, the high priestess raised a playful eyebrow toward the abbott.
“While our priestess for the Goddess Bilsib of prophecy and wisdom still lives, I suppose she won’t mind getting to know who will be taking over her position in the coming decades.”
Abbott Carrey winced, and shook his head.
The priestess’s good humor vanished entirely. “Carrey. I, too, am a busy woman. So could you please just-”
“We have a priest chosen by Reckish, High Priestess.”
“... You better not be saying what I think you’re saying, Carrey.” The priestess’s voice had dropped and the faint spark of panic in her eyes humanized her instantly.
“Reckish has chosen Brother Lou as his priest and representative.”
“Good gods.”
Carrey raised his eyebrows at her rare cursing, but smiled apologetically as she stared at him exasperatedly, clearly shocked.
“You’re telling me… for the first time in a century, Reckish has chosen a representative that… is the furthest from a war hero I could imagine and… furthermore… after the war between the empire and Caltania has finished?! How does that make sense?!”
Despite the abbott opening his mouth to attempt to answer her, the high priestess held up her hand and dropped her chin to her chest.
“Pardon my outburst, Abbot Carry. I… We at the temple have been waiting for Reckish to select a new priest for quite some time but… are you certain it was Brother Lou he chose?”
“Yes. Brother Lou even experienced his first dream of Reckish as tradition dictates following Imbolsic Day.”
The priestess openly grimaced.
“He… refuses to go to serve the military in any capacity…” the abbott began slowly.
“He dares to defy the will of the gods?” The priestess burst out her staff clunking heavily against the slate floor.
“You must understand, Priestess, he was most surprised to have been chosen by Reckish. He is struggling with this responsibility greatly, and I wonder if… perhaps to help him… we might once again bend tradition a little for him.”
The high priestess let out a guffaw of disbelief while looking around the chapel, the hand not clasping her staff finding her hip.
“First we allow him to become a monk despite his age, and now you suggest we exempt him from our ancient practices yet again?!”
“Forgive me for sounding argumentative, Priestess, but he is Reckish’s chosen. This has to have been the designs of the gods for some time. Perhaps if we allow Brother Lou some more leeway, we will see even more extraordinary things.”
The high priestess took a long slow deep breath in, her eyes closing as she clearly fought to calm herself once more.
“What sort of exceptions are you suggesting, Abbott Carrey?”
The older man bowed his head “Why not allow Brother Lou to to reflect on his new status in solitude? If after one year he refuses his callings, then he can be exiled from the temple.”
The high priestess’s expression stilled, and once again, she appeared ethereal. Her eyes glowing and her staff beginning to hum…
“That is a bold gamble to take, Abbott Carrey.”
“Well you see… Brother Lou is slow to accept change, but I think if given the chance, he could grow into his role to serve the gods. If we manage to find it in our hearts to bestow him some patience and space to… adjust.”
The priestess stared at the abbott, her irritated expression that was sufficient in intimidating the bravest of men, only made the holy man give her a small shrug of awkwardness.
“What exactly is this plan that you are proposing, Abbot?”