As soon as the priest began to speak, Revin regretted coming.

The cathedral was large and ornate, its art and architecture felt so… ostentatious. Sure, the craftsmanship of the intricate stained glass bound with gold, massive sculptures, and the ten-foot-tall paintings were beautiful, well-crafted even. But it had such a sense of… uniformity. This wasn’t done by individual artists. The craft was there, but the creativity wasn’t. This wasn’t a form of personal expression, like the Hiriv’s art. This was an institution trying to assert its dominance.

Of course, Revin wondered if it were just the fact that he was forced to be here that gave him the impression. That is, until the priest began his lecture.

Omrai sat near the front with his generals. Revin and Kaiato sat in the back to avoid stares. All but the last two rows were filled, giving Revin and Kaiato some space, but the benches were long and uncushioned. Revin shifted, feeling a backache coming on. More than anything, he wanted to sleep and he had a feeling this would not be short.

The door closed with an echoing thud, and a man in ornate priestly robes stood at the lectern. He was old. “Welcome, to the Week’s Holy Incense Ceremony of the Most High and Holy Church of Shevidaro,” the priest said in a trembling staccato. “Here, this day, you are gathered to recommit yourself to the service of God and Shevidaro, to obedience, and to discipline.”

Revin held his copy of the Sephitaron close, wondering if they would refer to it at some point. But found that with the old man’s energy-less voice and his own exhaustion, his consciousness faded quickly…

Revin jerked awake when someone elbowed him, hard. He jumped with a grunt and a wince from the sharp reverberation of pain through his injuries. Kaiato gave him a stern look. “Better me than the priests,” Kaiato whispered.

“Have they said the words yet?” Revin said, hoping he hadn’t missed it. He still sensed Omrai’s gallimai he’d recently mastered.

Kaiato shook his head. “Just the priest.”

Revin let out a huff of annoyance. After setting his Sephitaron aside and an eternity of half-sleeping later, the ceremony itself finally began, led by a younger priest. When alone, Revin would just think the words. But here, the priest would speak one line, and the congregation would repeat it. Then the next sentence, and the next, and the next. Revin found a few similar words and phrases, but there was so much more. Layer upon layer upon layer of symbolism, of analogy, of metaphor.

At first, he followed along. But something told him this wouldn’t work. They were doing it all wrong. He felt his connection with the gallimai strain.

Revin noticed the many glares shot at Kaiato. In fact, no one sat directly in front of or behind them, giving them a wide berth. He frowned. Kaiato had mentioned that Ateyans hated Kaiato’s people.

Revin’s knee bounced rapidly. He remembered the night of losing his connection to Blackfire on his mother’s command, and although he only had one beast mastered now, he didn’t want to make a habit of missing his ceremonies. He didn’t know if missing several days would hurt his powers, but he didn’t want to find out.

“Kaiato, let’s go.”

Kaiato frowned. “I’m sure it’s almost over.”

“Have you ever been to one of these?”

Kaiato shook his head. His mouth was set in a firm line.

“You’ve got to hate this as much as I do.”

The final words of the ceremony concluded, and the priest stepped down from the lectern. Revin let out a sigh of relief.

“Finally,” Revin said, and he moved as if to stand. Kaiato grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Revin shot him a glare.

Kaiato shook his head. “Looks like they’re not done yet.” He motioned towards the front.

The archpriest returned to the lectern.

“No!” Revin hissed, “Sit down, you old goat!”

“Obedience to the great laws is of the utmost importance to the redemption of your eternal soul…” the priest said, droning on with a tremor to his voice so strong Revin thought the old man would collapse.

Revin groaned. “Are you serious? Can’t they just-”

Kaiato shushed him, so Revin decided to whisper. “I can’t stay here, it’s been an hour, and he could go on for another four.”

Revin felt the strain on his abilities. The gallimai’s connection slowly dissipating. Soon it would tear. A sensation he did not want to feel again.

The strain only increased.

✦✦✦

Kaiato thought a silent prayer of gratitude toward Velkna, the goddess of carnofighting and good fortune. When Revin had started to sway and blink painfully, Kaiato had decided that perhaps they could leave unnoticed, and it seemed that they had. He was glad of it too, that service had just about split his own head with agony.

He wondered if he needed to shed blood in penance for sitting through even part of it. If Johuto were here, she’d say he should. And shoot the priest. And return to the forest where he would no longer dishonor the gods by attending a false religion.

Kaiato blinked at the bright sunlight as he stepped out. He didn’t know if it had been merely an hour, or three. He thanked Velkna again for meditation. If it weren’t for that…

He heard Revin wince as he stepped through the door, holding his chest and almost dropping his book, Kaiato put his shoulder under Revin’s and held him up. He had to crouch due to their height difference. He also took Revin’s book, tucking it under his other arm. It was very heavy, even for a book.

“Are you alright?” Kaiato said.

Revin nodded. “Yeah, I’ve just got to get to my tent.”

Kaiato frowned. “Something about your own ceremony, right?”

“I don’t know how long I can wait, before I lose my powers for the day.”

Kaiato got him moving, pursing his lips in thought. “Your god won’t count it unless it’s before a certain time?”

Revin gave a half-shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t want to find out.”

“You two!”

Kaiato whipped around, feet spreading, hand going to the sword that wasn’t at his side. He only held Revin’s book. A middle-aged priest stood between them and the door.

Revin sighed heavily. “What do you want?”

The priest gave a half-smile, tainted with obscured disdain. Kaiato had seen that smile before on sycophants interested in using him to meet his sister. Kaiato did his best to maintain a neutral face.

“I was told about you two,” the priest said. “I knew you weren’t Shevidarist, but I didn’t think you’d also be so disruptive during the Week’s Holy Incense Ceremony of the Most High and Holy Church of Shevidaro.”

“He meant no harm,” Kaiato said, “He’s still recovering from an injury.”

“And that gives you permission to interrupt the holy ceremony by leaving early?”

Kaiato didn’t know what to say, and Revin remained quiet. What did this priest want?

“A good couple of heathens, travelling with the army.”

Kaiato tried to keep visible cues to his annoyance at a minimum. He took a deep breath. “What do you want from us?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Repentance,” the priest said.

Kaiato felt a chill. In Ateya, that could mean a great many things.

The man’s gaze moved to Revin’s book. He squinted at it. “What is that?”

Kaiato felt his grip tighten on the book. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Kaiato turned to leave, but the man moved quickly to intercept him. “Give it here.”

“It’s not yours,” Kaiato said.

“Nonetheless.” The priest beckoned with his fingers.

Kaiato looked to Revin. His brow was furrowed tightly, and his face dotted with sweat.

The priest reached for the book. Out of reflex, Kaiato jerked it back.

“No!” Revin grunted.

The priest glared. “Hand. It. Over.”

Kaiato let out another sigh. He let go of Revin, he stumbled but managed to stand. Kaiato handed the book over. “Just give it back, he values it a lot.”

“And you?” the priest said, casting a glare at Kaiato. “What do you value?”

A trap. “You know what I value.”

“False gods and heathen kings.” His eyes widened as he skimmed the pages. Turning the sheets of metal. “Etched metal, expert calligraphy, enduring bind-rings. Pity such a work of art is filled with sacrilege.”

Revin tensed. “It’s truer than any of your books.”

Kaiato squeezed his side, trying to get him to calm. But he was having difficulty being calm himself.

“A heretic and a pagan? Quite the pair. What sort of blood-sacrifices do you participate in? What sort of depraved rites? Do you eat children, Koyejian?”

Kaiato’s eyes narrowed. Lies Ateyan’s told to make them fear the Koyejians. For all their talk of truth, these Ateyans loved to lie about everyone else.

The priest beckoned at someone behind them. Kaiato looked over his shoulder. Four soldiers dressed in white military garb and wielding massive spadones.

“These paganous blasphemers must be taken for questioning.”

Kaiato’s hands tightened into fists. He took a few calming breaths, knowing he should just let life flow past him. Trust in the gods. The gods whose names this man defiled on a whim.

He only grew angrier.

“We don’t want them tainting the others, especially the shorter one.”

Revin breathed hard and winced. But he held on to his head, not his chest. The kid needed to lie down, not fight a priest.

With a sudden rumbling, the doors to the synagogue swung open, and a bustling crowd began to make its way out of the temple. Many gave Kaiato and Revin looks of annoyance or concern. Luckily, they weren’t standing in the middle of the path.

Kaiato locked eyes with the priest, his eyes as calm as he could muster. The priest hadn’t even spared a glance for the coming crowd. “I understand your disdain toward me,” Kaiato said, “But why the monk?”

“Because his book,” the priest said, holding it up, “speaks abominations.”

The warrior priests surrounded them, their blades aloft like banners. All they had to do was let the blades fall, and he’d be dead. A crowd had begun to gather around them. A young priest with a bag stood dutifully next to the middle-aged priest.

“You will be questioned and, if you are found guilty, punished.”

A pit stretched wide in Kaiato’s stomach. Was there no way to speak sense to these Ateyans?

“Shackle the heathens.” The young priest nodded and retrieved the restraints from his satchel. The crowd was gathering around them, watching the exchange in fascination or worry.

Kaiato took a swift step forward and squared his shoulders. He snapped in a low voice, “Stop. Now.”

The young priest froze, eyes wide. Kaiato wasn’t nearly as good a fighter as his sister, but he had trained with her for years. Swordsmen may be hard to deal with, but not a priest barely in his teens.

Kaiato glared. “We are here as Omrai’s guests. Advisors for the war.”

The middle-aged priest paused. Brow half-furrowing. “That does not exempt you from the law.”

“What do you want? We’ve attended your ceremony; we obey your laws. Just let us go.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He motioned again to the young priest, who gave a nod of obedience and turned back toward Kaiato and Revin, stepping forward cautiously.

“Omrai won’t appreciate you taking us,” Kaiato said, growing worried.

“Then he can pick you up later,” he said.

Revin slacked in Kaiato’s arms a little bit more, the pain must be getting worse.

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Revin said.

“Your foreigners and heathens, everything you do is an abomination. Don’t worry. We’ll teach you.” He glared at the young priest. “What are you waiting for?”

Kaiato was ready for this to be over.

Kaiato let go of Revin, his body moving almost of its own accord. He stepped in, tripping the young priest. With another step, he closed the distance to the middle-aged priest and his fist swung, almost completely out of reflex.

His fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the street.

There were a few shouts from the crowd and the priest, and Kaiato felt a chill rush down his body. The holy warriors’ spadones dropped, and Kaiato flinched, knowing this was the end. But apart from hearing the gasp of the crowd, he felt nothing. He looked up at the blades hovering over his head.

“Good hit,” the middle-aged priest said. Kaiato saw him getting up from the ground. Rubbing his jaw. He gave Kaiato a half smile. “But I’ve felt worse. Take them in.”

Kaiato let out an exasperated breath, trying to calm himself. His temper had mastered his patience. Kaiato looked at Revin. He looked about ready to pass out. The younger priest got back to his feet and placed the shackles on Kaiato’s outstretched forearm. He glanced to the crowd and was met by a mixture of expressions. Pity. Anger. And a scattering of subtle smiles. Some seemed to appreciate the fine art of punching priests.

Pity they were too spineless to help him now.

The crowd had slowed traffic out of the synagogue, and other priests started urging people forward. The middle-aged priest and the warrior priests escorted Revin, Kaiato, and Revin’s book away from the entrance. Omrai had been sitting up front, so they’d be long gone before he showed up.

Now the test, Kaiato thought, how valuable are we to the High General?

“You… can’t…” Revin said. “This is wrong.”

The priests ignored Revin’s words and continued with their work. Luckily, one soldier carried two spadones while the disarmed one helped Revin walk. Kaiato walked next to him, no support needed.

“What are they going to do to us?”

Kaiato shrugged. “They could kill us. Especially since I struck a priest.”

Revin’s eyes widened. “They wouldn’t.”

Kaiato glanced at one of the warrior priests, but the man refused to make eye contact.

“They could throw us in the stocks, brand us, whip us, cast us out.”

Revin’s eyes widened incredulously. “Why?”

“The High Judge made Shevidarism the official state religion.”

“Shut up, you two!” the middle-aged priest snapped back at them with a glare. Kaiato caught a glimpse of a good bruise developing on the man’s jaw. He should have taken his own advice. Just go with the flow. That was the best way to survive in Ateya.

But every time he thought of that priest’s condescending eyes, it became harder and harder to deny just how good it felt to punch a self-righteous Ateyan. Now, he and Revin were going to pay for it.

“I’m sorry,” Kaiato whispered to Revin.

Revin shook his head. “If I didn’t feel like my skull were splitting, I’d have done the same.”

Kaiato raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Revin gave a half smile. “Well, I wanted to.”

✦✦✦

Revin had been in his cell for about an hour when he finally heard someone approaching, armored boots trodding down the stone steps. He had been laying on a cold, comfortless wooden table that the jailer had dared call a bed. Despite the discomfort, laying down had helped lessen his headache. He let out a sigh as the cell door opened, and High General Omrai Speartip Abaddon walked in. He was tall enough that he had to duck his head to enter the cell.

He did not look pleased.

Revin sat up with a wince, flinching.

Omrai frowned. “I don’t get foreign visitors that often. I neglected to explain quite a few things concerning Ateya and its religion.”

“Are you even gonna ask what happened?” Revin said, his annoyance mounting.

Omrai’s knuckles tightened into a fist. “Apparently you two got into a fight with a priest.”

“Kaiato was trying to help me,” Revin said. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing, I’ve recently been shot. And another, that ceremony gave me a mind-splitting headache.”

“Your boredom does not concern me,” Omrai said.

“But my powers do!” Revin said, “And because I didn’t use my ceremony, my powers stopped working. I can’t sense your gallimai anymore.”

Omrai frowned. “What do you think we should do?”

“Let me practice my own ceremony,” Revin said. “If I have to remaster my beasts every week because I’m forced to do your ceremony rather than mine, we’re going to waste a lot of time remastering beasts.”

Omrai rubbed his stubbled chin. “But, Revin, why won’t our ceremony work? You said they’re similar?”

Revin let out a frustrated breath. “Because, it didn’t work. As soon as the time had passed, my head felt like I had a knife in it. I know that it won’t work. It’s not just some… dislike for your religion. It just doesn’t work.”

“But,” Omrai said, stepping closer, “there are legal ramifications for what you did today. I had to convince the archpriest not to convict you.”

“Then you’re going to have to decide, do you want me help, or not?”

Omrai took a deep breath. “You’re sure it won’t work? What if you help the priest perform the ceremony? Perhaps I could get you ordained as a chaplain.”

Revin shook his head. “It must be mine. Or my power resets every week.”

Omrai began pacing, his brow looked painfully furrowed. He even reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“It is dangerous for me to show favoritism,” Omrai said, “If I spare you and Kaiato, then the Church may grow wary of me.”

“Do you want to stop Jebuthar?” Revin said.

“Of course.”

Revin shrugged. “Then you know what you have to do.”

Omrai stopped pacing. He closed his eyes and took yet another deep breath. “I expect you to attend all ceremonies that do not interfere with your powers.”

“Fine.”

“I expect you to keep your mouth shut about your own religion, and Kaiato’s.”

“Okay.”

“And I want you to remember something.” Omrai leaned in. “These are the laws of my country. One religion, to unite the people.”

“But I’m not from your country.”

“Well, you’re here now. You will respect our laws. Or I will let the priests have you. Ateya is different than the Hiriv, and you need to get used to it.”

Revin resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. If his father were here, he’d be arguing on Revin’s side, for once.

“Let’s go,” Omrai said, stepping out of the cell. “A messenger from Jebuthar has arrived, and I want you to observe our conversation.”

“And Kaiato?” Revin asked.

“He’s already been released,” Omrai said. He gave Revin a pointed look. “I wanted you to understand the price of disrespect.”

Omrai turned around and walked down the stone hall without another word.

Revin stood in his cell. Hopefully this wouldn’t get any worse. He wanted more and more to stop Jebuthar and go home. Or at least to a nation that wasn’t so domineering.

For now, he’d have to juggle maintaining his powers and respecting the Ateyan Church. A trick he was not overeager to perform.