Chapter 15: Inadequate Icons

The Priest never really practiced what he preached, but the town with its few people did. After that sermon, people had actually started to (get this!) wave back at Vega! What amazing progress!

Progress in the temple, sadly, would be slow.

“So please. Can-can ya understand Florato, and treat her with the respect she deserves?” Florato’s suspicion melted, as admiration took hold.

“...fine. You guys can help. But only with specific things, okay?” The priestess requested. Florato looked at the scarecrow, who winked. This was good work for changing the mind of the priestess, even if only a little.

The work for the feast was underway, as the crew started to practice the placement of tablets, certain plates and discs, and the altar to sacrifice a goat onto. The priestess appeared to be dreading that, with the vestal constantly holding her up during the practice.

While she had discipline in her, it was skirmishing with her confidence. What is a routine without calm?

As this happened, Florato worked with the freshness and athleticism of women today. Her tribal parts kicked in as well as her diligence and strength did. The clergy found her lifting of heavy objects and manner of work agreeable. After all, most people, especially self possessed women, aren’t completely at ease when in the presence of priests they just met, much less working for.

Adapting to circumstances unfavoring was the actress’s specialty. But as for Vega, not so much. Being in this new religious environment spawned the believed necessity of preliminary tip toeing around, such as with the demon.

“So-so! How did ya come to love Recor?” Vega cheered out, ready to hear another’s guaranteed admiration for their creator.

“Define love, construct.” The flying star spoke, half mockingly, “Because last I checked, Nemesis has a lot more to do with me than Recor.” The demon remarked on Nemesis like how an upset child would to parents.

“Well, Recor created the continent, and therefore us-us. So, being alive is a good-good thing, and thus ya must love him! Don’t ya Gello?” Vega continued forward down a flight of stairs, as the demon was left horrified. This construct is dumb as shit, is what she believed.

“First off, my name's Tai. Second, I’m a demon, formerly technically. Why exactly should I care about my deadbeat dad?” Tai hopped onto Kaliba, who shuttered as she landed.

“Because ya are in the temple. Demons aren’t allowed into temples without reason.” Vega stopped at a shelf and started to acquire the required texts for the feast. Again, the demon was stunned. Starting to realize that maybe Vega is brighter than she thought.

“But maybe the priestess-tess gave ya a key or something…” Nope. She was dumb as bricks.

“Well, you’re half right. I like the priestess, and that kind of counts for Recor technically. It’s like saying you like fish, then it somehow counts for liking the ocean. Recor is weird like that.” Vega recorded these thoughts, it was her first encounter with a real demon. She wondered how it would be to meet a spirit next.

“Weird.” Kaliba cried.

“Yeah. Yeah indeed bird buddy.” Tai whistled out.

“Sorry if I asked too many questions. It’s my-my first time meeting something so wonderful.” Vega cheered again, lacking the prejudice that often accompanies talk about demons, “But, how did ya join this place? Was it the priest?”

The demon sucked in air, recalling the past. She stared at the old wooden walls, and the even older scratch marks she put into them.

“Well, it was actually the priest's mother. I came in one night, ready to end the kid, when she came up to me. I thought she was going to throw salt or holy water at me, but she just… gave me a hug.”

“Hugs are nice.” Vega replied.

“Yeah they are. After that, it was a long path of self reflection and changing to this new place.” Tai took a moment to consider what to say next, closing her eyes to brace against rejection. “Hey scarecrow, have you ever heard of a demon turning into a spirit?” The questions had a grief voice to it, moving Vega to akinder and tender act.

The scarecrow hugged the demon.

“Yep-yep! I haven’t seen it, but I know about some demons becoming spirits! There is this spirit Carmody, once-once a greedy demon that eventually became a spirit of humility. Sure-sure, he still likes money, but he is a new person now-now.” Vega said with enthusiasm, like how a fan does to a celebrity's accomplishments.

Tai felt a warmth come to her, not from the body of Vega, but of her persona. It takes a lot of progress to become better, just a step is to a journey of a thousand miles. She was glad, even though unintentional, that Vega recognized the effort.

“Yeah, yeah gotcha. Now let’s get back to work. And let me help you with the scripts. The priest is gonna need it.”

Florato heaved the platform onto the altar. It needed some painting. Red, as was tradition. The vestal carried a tray of paints and placed them beside her.

“How is the work going, tribal?”

“You do know I have a name right?” Florato shot a glance at the vestal. She looked small as she painted the platform. The actress understood this pose. This longing for another.

“Sorry, it’s not often we meet outsiders. Contact is very limited, and Recor bless us, we might only have a few newcomers a year.” Her remark came out as glad to the lack of visitors.

“Well, don’t worry kid. Give us a day or so and we’ll be out of your hair.” The actress handed the vestal her desired paints, first with background colors, then with defining shapes. The platform became a background, and now began to resemble a gray battlement.

“Tell me, how does your hair work?” The vestal awkwardly blurted out, nearly messing up the paint as she shocked herself by saying it.

“It’s just wavy hair, it's just fibers that naturally form the shape and it looks like a wave. Why? Do you want some?” Florato said jokingly, not trying to spark more conversation. The vestal was in deep reflection, much to the actress’s shock.

“Perhaps. How does your skin work?” Florato had never encountered such brash, but purely innocent interrogation like this.

“My people are the Jukikos tribe, we live next to the coasts up north. We lived in the sunlight for a long time and therefore, we have skin the color of chocolate.” Florato was proud of her difference. In a sea of white and pales, she stood out as a beacon of colored charm.

“Can… Can I touch it?”

“I’m not that kind of actress, kid.” Florato chastised her.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that… I just want to see how your hair feels, is all. I’m sorry if I offend.” The vestal bowed in apology. The actress couldn’t be mad at such an ignorant girl. Plus, she wasn’t arrogant.

“Calm down. I get it, seeing a person so different.” Florato waved the vestal forward. “Just remember, I feel pain too, you know.” The vestal stepped forward, holding out her hands to the scalp of the actress. The vestal laid a few fingers onto her, and began to brush.

“Wow. It feels… good. How does that happen?” The vestal said enviously.

“Well it's a little thing called shampoo. It’s this magical thing that turns wire-like hair into luxurious thick art.” Florato pushed up her hair, and the vestal admired it, savoring the feeling.

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“Shame. I wish I could have that hair.” Florato knew the feeling, to have the qualities inherent in certain peoples. When she was a young babe, she felt the same to people with colored eyes. As emeralds and diamonds are uncommon for the color of paler skins, yellow and oranges were for darker skin folk.

She once desired the status of having eyes beyond the standard brown and blacks. Seeking the end of her insecurity, Florato came up with a plan.

“You know, there is a way to do it. But you must promise to use it for good.” Florato stood up, gesturing to the young girl. She enchanted the girl with her interest, and pulled her off into another room. As she raced off into a secluded section of the temple, they passed by another woman working.

“Hello mother! Bye mother!” Florato upon getting to a clean chair, placed the vestal onto it.

“There is a mystical art of disguise, one only used by assassins and actors alike. The art of using paper to create change.” She unpacked her bag, pulling out a roll of papers. Florato used the paper to create knots in the hair of the vestal, as she awaited wide eyed. She was very interested, even as the knots pulled on her hair tight.

Florato showed her how to make such knots with great speed, and with greater excitement. Florato, although trained for acting, also had a passion for the transformation of a person for performance. Once she even made a prosthetic nose to better play the act of a warlord.

“Keep these knots in your hair for a couple hours to a day, and your hair will become a new shape for a time.” The vestal felt a tad uncomfortable, but was reassured by the smile of Florato. She wasn’t deliberately trying to harm her. In fact, she now knew she was just like the actress. Simply enjoying humanity at its finest, regardless of outsider and insider.

The priestess was in a terrible mood, shuttering at the last chosen ancestors. Her fear was taking hold, as it often does when she aided in service. She didn’t dislike the worship of Recor, but felt that she couldn’t do the service justice. Plenty of thought is given to the flock, but what about her?

Prayers are more often given to the church goer rather than the one that makes sure there is a church to go to, is what the priest knew. It was extra unpleasant for those foreigners to be aiding her. Instead of an oppositional attitude, they were supposedly helping her.

It was not that they were particularly frightening, that’s silly. But of the disorder, like how a tree stump butchered and cleaved and yet would encourage forestry. It didn’t make sense to her. This was clearly not their domain.

These Iozians had little idea about the other side. But even if they were unknowing of the lives of others, they could certainly try. The priestess didn’t.

“Hey priestess girl-girl! We got the stuff ya wanted!” Vega climbed off the stairs, with the now kind Tai.

“With the specific names? I want this feast to be remembered, not willfully forgotten.”

“No worries, I made sure she got the stuff. How’s the choosing of the ancestor on your end?” Tai called out, as the priestess turned back to the sheets. Needing to show proper and earned respect for an ancestor was common for these Kai Ren, but it was ensuring all of them mattered. Although one could have favorites, it is important to such people to know that they all mattered.

“N-no… Not yet. Tell me Tai Pai, will there be children at the feast, or will the grannies take care of them this time.” The priestess spoke, in her unstable tenor.

“They say that they’re gonna stay in the armory with the grannies but I say that some of them are gonna try to sneak off.”

“Bastards.”

“Kids tend to be that.” The demon chuckled out.

“Now that-that ya got the texts, what do we need to do now-now?’” Vega leaned close to the priestess, startling her.

“Go take care of the banners, and pick out these herbs.” She tossed a scroll to the demon. Tai caught, but lifted a hand to ask for help. The priestess walked away before she could. She didn’t care that Tai couldn’t read, she just wanted to be out of sight of the construct.

“Ah, Jera powder, Fitanon powder, and an elixir.” Tai recoiled at Vega’s reading of the list.

“You can read? I’m starting to feel inadequate.” Scratching her cheek, Tai recounted her form. How pathetic it was compared to humans and other sentient beings. She was struck in an oppressive loop.

“For-for?”

“ I don’t know. A demon relying on a scarecrow knowing how to read. Ain’t that a bit shameful?” Tai lowered her head in defeat.

“More shameful than racism at the workplace?” Vega’s projecting eyes came back.

“The fucks a racism?” Tai raised a brow at the scarecrow, as her eyes returned back to normal. “Oh, whatever.” Tai took Vega’s hand to guide her, she didn’t care for what had just said Vega anymore. Heading further up, the temple’s bare and basic walls shifted in more detailed and decorative art. Demonstrating the ascent to heaven, for these Recorians was called the Sea of Shining Crystals, the ornamentation would increase each step.

“Have ya been to heaven before Tai-Tai?” Tai took a moment to respond, analyzing the temple’s depiction of heaven. What she saw was swirling and flowing bodies turning into a rainbow. And all across the walls were sculptures of blind eyes. Remarkably, those blind eyes were the only uncolored parts of the upper floors.

“No. Heaven’s for good people and spirits that have finished their job. I still got a lot of work ahead of me.” Tai said, without great insecurity. Vega took that from her.

“Say, have ya… ever hear voices sometimes?” Vega frowned for a moment as she asked.

“Sometimes? Scarecrow, divine beings always hear stuff. From the prayer of a nearby holyman, or the curses of the wicked. We always hear that stuff, it only takes some time to know what you should listen to. Why do you ask?”

“Well-well, I have been hearing a voice. Someone asking, no, telling me to help.” Vega tried not to look at Tai as she spoke.

“What does it sound like? Is it your own voice?” Tai asked, as the pair reached a hallway.

“Kinda, just… sounds new.” Vega wasn’t exactly clear in her tone, more showing off her own confusion.

“Maybe it’s because you’re in some new places. Do you go on trips this long often?” She gently questioned,attempting to guide Vega’s thoughts. She knew there was wisdom, but there wasn’t much intellect.

“Not really. The reason I-I got here is because of the voice. It just sort of… happened back in my home.” Tai sighed, and opened the door.

“If there’s anything I can tell you about people’s voices, it is that you have to learn which one you listen to. Got that?” Vega nodded before considering whether or not her next question would be fruitful.

“Do… ya know anything about a Kaliber? Have you heard a voice say that recently?” Vega beckoned, taking a quick look at the demon.

“Yeah, yeah I have. But I heard approximately… five hundred miles away so… I doubt it's the Kaliber you’re talking about.” Tai finished

If Vega had a heart, it would be soothed right then. Tai's answer gave her reassurance. That the voice was real and happening.

Florato finished the painting as the vestal was resting in the adjacent room. She wasn’t a good artist, but she applied the same patience that was required to become one.

“Flo? Do you need any help?” The vestal called out, leaning her head out of the door.

“I’m good kiddo, just sit and rest while I take care of this.” The actress knew of the need for contact in order to erode hate. But she believed that this vestal was well on the way, so she didn’t feel the need to drag her back. It is often the positive contacts with outsiders that break hatred.

However, what if someone doesn’t wish to engage with another at all? When all they can see is a monster or a fool? To answer this, you have to convince them. Back in my own work, I had to do this monthly. Persuading another that there are benefits to empathy is the main goal.

Did you know that more empathic individuals tend to have better romantic relationships? That is indeed a truth that sadly too many people don’t hear, or don’t want to listen to. Yet, people typically listen more to figures than ideas.

“Are you sure? Because I think Yueuai-”

“Who?”

“The priestess dude. She might get mad if you’re the only one doing the work.” The vestal was calm, but her faint fear came out in her voice.

“No worries, just sit down and rest. I’ll take care of this.” Florato was proud that her belief was truth, that the girl wished to engage with her. That is a marker for progress between peoples, at least for a person of my wisdom. When people wish to mingle together, there is fraternity and love born. A people mightier than all the rest.

“Hey Tai? There isn’t any Fitanon powder. We got-got the elixir and the Jera sprinkles, but not of that other stuff.” Vega listed, as Tai searched thoroughly through the shelves.

“Huh, I guess you're right.” She noted the cabinet's hinges, as one seemed to have a minor scratch. As for the keys, she kept them all close.

“Shame, we need that stuff for the sacrifice. Can’t have the feast without praising Recor properly.” Tai recollected all the materials and glazed over every detail. In that moment, Vega got an idea.

“Hey, you know where the apartment is, right?” Vega nudged Tai.

“Yep, what, do you need something from there?” Tai scratched her head and yawned, while Vega considered a solution.

“Can you bring someone from there, he might have some stuff that come work?” Tai nodded, and leaned her head to the mouth of the scarecrow.

Some thirty minutes had passed for Florato. The platform was complete and painted. Definitely not the prettiest sight, but was fit for a god. Florato was proud of her handy work and brought back out the vestal to see it.

“Not bad Flo. I think the ceremony can be held. Aside from the speech and sacrifice, everything seems to be in order.” Florato was glad at the compliment. After a day of sour pain and insult, she was happy to be in the presence of understanding.

A knock against the temple door was heard.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that for you.” The vestal speedily hopped over to the door and pulled it open.

“Hey Liai! I brought more mortals to help!” Tai cheered out, gesturing to the two figures behind her. It was a redhead and a girl with green makeup.

“So I heard that you guys needed some powder right?” Skaldi crossed his shoulders. Liai, shivered at the sight. Not necessarily of a fear for herself, but of the reaction of others.

“So… can I come in?” Skaldi’s elf ears wiggled.

“By Recor… sure?”