Lura Syllana
The priestess whose name I remember now as Damaris, thankfully had a robe for me as I left with her out of the courtroom. The collar was taken off, and immediately I felt the sickening weakness fade away as it is replaced by an overwhelming surge of energy washing over me. Like walking into a hot steam room after being doused with ice cold water. Two completely opposite feelings were felt at once, but it was a most welcoming feeling. Something I didn’t even realize I felt until it was taken from me by that collar. I will never let another collar like that find its way around my neck.
I follow her all the way through Mid-Town. A section of the city I’ve never been to. I’m amazed by how clean and well-kept it is. The streets don’t have trash on them, nor are there any homeless people. Buildings are clean and well maintained. Roads are made of stone. People don’t look suspicious. In fact, they actually look happy. They greet each other as if they were family. Maybe they are for all I know. People aren’t afraid to show their faces. They walk as if they have all the time in the world and every person they run into is someone important to talk to. Their faces are full of compassion and health. No one looks as if they’ve gone hungry or have been using glimmer. The air seems cleaner. Fresher.
It’s hard to understand how people can be so happy and carefree when just beyond the wall, not all that far behind me, people have to fight over a few coppers and no one trusts anyone.
We make our way up to the gate to the upper city. A place few are allowed to enter. The priest is allowed in with no problem, but the guards eye me suspiciously.
I can’t stifle the gasp that escapes my lips as we enter the upper city. It’s nothing like I’d ever imagined. Not at all.
The streets are made of white and silver marble. The buildings are also pure white with silver trim. There are trees everywhere. I’ve never seen a tree before. At least not outside a painting. There are flower gardens that line the walkways. The air smells of their scent, which is sweet and refreshing, along with a smell of sharp perfumes that linger. And grass. Lots of grass. It’s so green and lush. I’ve never seen anything like it. Even the sky seems clearer. And the air isn’t so stifling hot. It seems refreshingly cool here.
What really strikes me as odd is how few people travel the streets. The ones who do seem as if they have somewhere better to be. They have fair skin and most have golden blonde hair with deep blue eyes. My own dark skin tone sticks out like a dirty copper coin in a purse full of shiny silver. Few stop to talk. They all walk with their noses to the sky and their eyes far above everyone else as if seeing the sight of another person would be a severe affront to them.
Not one of them stops to say hello to one another. Nor do they even acknowledge the existence of anyone else. Quite a few are being carried in palanquins held up by slaves. I’ve never felt like as much of an outsider as I do now. These people couldn’t be any more different from me. I thought the ultimate life would be found inside these walls, but none of these people seem happy. Not like the people in Mid Town. Hell, even the people in Low Town are more willing to talk or say hello.
I follow the priestess through these lonely streets until we arrive at yet another wall. The gates are open and unguarded. Inside, we come upon a pathway of pure white marble without any other swirls of color in a sea of verdant grass. Men and women wander the paths. Some wear vibrant white robes, others wear plain brown, while a few wear bright yellow. There are several warriors here and there in the most prestigious shining armor with golden or silver tabards that show off a white circle of silver lining. Some have a crimson lining.
Before me stands something akin to a palace. A humongous cathedral with stained sparkling silver and gold trimmed glass and white stone. Several towers reach the very peak of the sky surrounding a gigantic dome.
A thought hits me and fills me with fear. I am so afraid of running into Orym; I wish I could cover my face. What would I even say to him if I did? Thanks for tricking me into falling in love with you and believing it was reciprocated. Maybe thank him for leaving me after he took my virginity, too. What a fool I was for believing his lies. He is a horrible person. He was so convincing. Made me feel so special. But I felt like a real piece of shit when he never came back. I felt as low as the sand covering the ground in Tent City.
As we enter the cathedral, the inside is just as magnificent as the outside. This is far different from the church that I still wouldn’t have called little at the time in low town. It’s coldly beautiful. The inside seems to sparkle and shine with light, blessing the place through the stained windows. Golden and silver rugs cover the white marble floor. The walls are decorated with golden and silver banners of that same silver circle. Everything just seems so devout and holy. Is it bad that I can only think about how much I could get for the rugs and banners?
I stop dead in my tracks and feel my heart trying to break free of my chest when I see what could only be a Paladin in front of me as we round a corner. Orym… I look up to meet his eyes and sigh in relief. It is not him. He steps around me, leaving me staring at nothing.
“Everything okay?” Damaris asks.
I nod while closing my gaping mouth. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”
She gives a curt nod and continues on. People in white robes who I’m sure are priests either congregate to talk or wander about their business. Some men are in armor here and there. “Welcome to the holy sanctum of the Light, child. Today starts your journey to finding the Light’s Divine grace.”
I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath until I let it go. She doesn’t wait for a response and continues on.
“Look at this,” another golden-haired woman says to two other golden-haired women, all with fair skin. “Damaris has found herself another low-born stray. Where does she continue to find them?”
“Amoann, it is good to see you as well. Although it seems to me you need to brush up on the Light’s gospel. Particularly on grace and humility,” she says. Something just occurs to me… That night with the man with red hair… Faidhor Haryrwen is a name I will never forget. After he… After he did what he did to me, I was healed by a woman. The angel with the golden hair… She’s the one who healed me. Damaris. At least, that’s what she said in the courtroom.
The other woman’s eyes seem to narrow, but she doesn’t have anything to say, nor do her high-born friends. You can always tell a high-born from their complexion. While us low-born strays have dark skin tones, some being pure chocolate with mine being a bit on the copper side. Those of the high blood rarely ever feel the sun’s heat. They have the luxury of wealth and can pay anyone to do anything they want while they sit inside their mansions getting fat. Most also have golden hair. Of course, that alone doesn’t mean anything. I have golden hair as well and it hasn’t helped me at all, but I suppose my family was once considered high-born when King Volodar was still in power. We were one of his few loyalists. The rest were bought in gold by the Council and the Golden High Elf Trading Company.
There are many in the lower parts of town still loyal to the rightful ruler. The king who led our people out from under the Wood Elves’ strict thumb and their blind views. A bunch of tree lovers. Although I’ve wondered if maybe things aren’t so bad in the forest. It can’t be any worse than what we suffer here in the desert. I heard some say that this land became a barren desert to punish us for leaving the practices of our ancestors and betraying them. They think that’s why the King’s beloved wife died and drove him to his abdication. Some pray for his return or that of his children, Prince Faelar Morric and Princess Ariana Morric. They pray one of them will come to save us. However, none have seen any of them since.
I follow Damaris all the way through the halls of silver and gold decorations, passing many other elves in white robes or armor. Although there seem to be a few nobles here and there, dressed in their fancy silks with their noses held to the sky.
We head down a stairway, through several corridors, and down more stairways. The decor grows rather dim the further down we go. The priests on these lower levels all wear yellow robes. Eventually, we reach a floor that is all normal sandstone with rugs of crimson color, lacking the holy white, silver, and gold colors. The elves down here all wear simple brown linens and seem to be a bit younger than most. Although I notice some aren’t so young. We arrive at a room with two beds.
“Here is where you will stay throughout your training as a Novice. Once you become Accepted, you will be moved to a room all to yourself a few floors above,” she says as she raises her hand to the halls surrounding us. “For now, you’ll have to share it with another Novice. Fortunately for you, I found someone who’s very accepting, and I think the two of you will get along quite well.”
I nod to her before forcing myself to meet her eyes. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me, and I apologize for skipping out on you on the bell tower. Looking back, I wish I would’ve taken your offer.”
“The Light works in mysterious ways. I think you were guided away because you had a journey of your own to take, and strange enough, it still led you back to the Light. Do not dwell too much on the past, child, and for that matter, don’t get too distracted by the future either. Stay in the here and now. Focus on what you can do today.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before her eyes meet mine, showing the empathy she holds in her heart. “You’ve been through a lot, and I’m sorry you had to endure so much pain. I hope now you can take the path of healing and let go of all that burdens you. And as far as your purpose, I’ll do my best to help you free your family. Many of us here find the practice of slavery despicable, but sadly, those in power find it profitable. Hopefully, we can change their minds and right the wrongs of the past.”
Before I can stop myself, I find my face buried in her chest with tears in my eyes. She wraps me in the warmth of her embrace, gently stroking my hair. “It’s okay, now. You are safe here. I promise I will not let anything happen to you here.”
She holds me for a while longer before we’re interrupted. Damaris pulls back and a smile crosses her lips. “Ahh. Chalia, just in time. Meet your new roommate, Lura.”
Chalia nods. She’s beautiful. Dark raven hair, bronze clear skin, and vividly bright blue eyes. She smiles and nods. “It is nice to meet you. Anyone who Sister Damaris vows for is a friend of mine.”
I nod. She offers her hand and I accept it. Damaris puts a hand on both of our shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Good. I’ll let you two settle in and get to know one another. Chalia, will you let Lura know where my room is and my study? That way, if she needs anything, she knows right where to find me.”
“Yes, Sister Damaris,” Chalia says with a curtsy. Chalia bites her lip as the two’s eyes linger on each other for a while longer. Damaris smiles and nods before walking away. Chalia turns to me with a smile. “Well, might as well get to it then, huh?”
I smile and nod. She closes the door and turns her back to it. “There’s a lot to cover. We’ll start with the important things. Actual priestesses and priests who wear the white robes regardless of whether they have silver or gold are always to be referred to as Sister or Brother – unless they’re a bishop, Archbishop, father, mother, or High Mother and High Father. I’ll let you know who those are and you’ll have to refer to them by their proper title. The men and women in armor are Paladins or Paladins in training, and you have to refer to them as such, aside from a special few.” She pauses to see if I’m getting all this before giving me a sympathetic smile and continuing.
“It can be quite complicated. With Paladins, you have the Hand of the Light, which is their leader. Then you have the Lord General, who leads the armies. And the High Marshals who give out the Lord General’s commands to their sect of the army. Then you have the Vindicators who… I’m not really sure what they do, but they are highly respected. Next, you have the Legionnaires who are, from what I can tell, like Captains. They lead smaller units. The Justices are the ones who seek out corruption and enemies of the Light. The Crusaders are at the forefront of the battle.” Her eyes light up for a moment. “Oh! Now I remember. The Vindicators lead the Crusaders at the front of the battles. The Warders are sent to guard important people such as kings and queens, along with acting as their advisors. Sentinels are like Justices and Warders combined. They seek out evil and are normally stationed in every city that is protected by the Light. Then, the Sentries make up the bulk of the Paladin Order and are just your common foot soldiers. Apprentices are exactly what they sound like; they apprentice under a seasoned veteran. Lastly, are the initiates. They’re those who are Accepted among us Novices who possess the physical abilities to fight.”
“That’s a lot to know,” I say.
“Oh, honey, that isn’t even half of it. We haven’t even gotten into the ranks of priests, Accepted, and Novices. Did I mention Accepted yet?” She pauses a minute and scratches her head. “Oh wait… I did. There’s so much to learn it’s easy to get overwhelmed. Anyway, they’re one step above us in becoming priests. Instead of wearing brown robes, they wear yellow. Showing they’re one step closer to the Light. Now, within each of these ranks, there is a leveling system based on knowledge of the Light, abilities, and potential. You, like me, have much potential. It’s easy to see who does by the brightness of their eyes. Those who have bright and glowing blue eyes like us have more potential. It’s as simple as that, which I’m sure you’re aware of that already. Unfortunately, that sets the bar pretty high for us.”
She gives me an apologetic shrug. “Now, the more you learn and are capable of doing, the higher level you can achieve. There are ten levels within the Novice rank, the same as the Accepted rank. When you reach all ten levels, you move up to the next rank. Now, with becoming a priest or priestess, there really isn’t a cap on how many levels there are. Of course, you start out back at level zero with each rank, but once you reach level ten, you earn the silver. At level twenty, you earn the gold and are eligible to become a bishop. Bishops are voted in by the priests and priestesses. The Archbishop is voted in by the bishops. Only those who have reached a level of fifty can become a father or mother. And you have to reach a level of one hundred to be eligible to become a High Mother or High Father. Only one person can be one of those at a time.”
“Okay. That sounds simple enough,” I say.
“Oh, it doesn’t end there. Not even close. The higher level you are, the more power and influence you have within your rank compared to others who are a lesser level than you. Obviously, the High Father and High Mother have the most power, followed by the rest of the Mothers and Fathers. Then the Archbishop and the bishops. Beyond that, within the priests and priestesses, it’s all about level. You also have little cliques within each rank. The nobles usually stick together, then there are those who follow certain Mothers, Fathers, and bishops. Even among the Novices, there are little cliques. Of course, just like in the rank of priest, in Novices, the nobles will stick with their own. I am, and you most likely will be too, part of a clique. We call ourselves Damaris’ strays,” she says with a giggle.
“Doesn’t that seem a little insulting?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I think it was meant that way to begin with, since most of us are from either Low Town or Tent City. Damaris took me in and brought me to the church, just like you. She does that with a lot of unfortunates, such as us. Don’t worry, within the Novice rank, including you and I, there are thirteen of us. So, you won’t have to worry about the nobles who tend to pick on low-borns because we stick up for each other.”
“I’m not exactly a low-born. At least my family wasn’t always. I’m just an outcast,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it, I think we’ll get along great. Just don’t tell any of the other strays that you’re not a low-born. Ironically, with the strays, things are the opposite. Even though we tend to be inclusive, even we are a bit exclusive and tend not to get along with most high-borns,” she says with a smile. Her cheeks have dimples that only come out with a smile. “May I ask what name did your family belong to?”
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone,” I say.
“Of course. You don’t have to tell me,” she says with a reassuring seriousness. I think it over for a minute, but I can’t tell her. My father made me promise not to tell anyone and I’ve already told too many people.
“Maybe some other time?” I ask, biting my lip.
She smiles as she squeezes my shoulder. “Of course. You don’t have to tell anyone about your old life. You’re one of us now. We always help each other out. That’s what Damaris taught us. To act with grace and humility.”
That causes me to laugh. Chalia raises an eyebrow. “What is so funny about that?”
“Nothing. It’s just, she told another priestess, I think her name was Amoann? I don’t remember, but she told her she needed to learn more about grace and humility.”
She also laughs at that. “Amoann could certainly use it.”
“So, what exactly do I have to do to level up?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Well, first you must take the classes we all take and pass the tests. Each test you pass, you gain a level. Which also means you have ten classes that vary in length. Some take a season to finish, while others take several cycles. None of them really show you how to use the Light. That’s for the Accepted. But it’s mostly about the Light’s teachings and the history of the church. You’ll also learn a bit about other cultures and languages. There’s a lot to learn. The teachings of the Light are quite in-depth.”
“I thought it was just about Light. I mean, it’s not like there’s a specific god, is there? Not like the old religions of the Wood Elves, or the different religions of the humans and dwarves,” I say.
“That’s a general misconception. There are gods of the Light. They’re called angels. And the Light is a being in and of itself. We just generally refer to it as the Light. Or El,” she says.
“Huh… I did not know that,” I say.
“There is much to learn. I’m only level three, so I’m not that far ahead of you since you start out at zero. It’s a long journey to being Accepted,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the strays. At least the Novices.”
“Wait, there are more strays outside of the Novices?” I ask.
“Well, it’s complicated. Us strays are loyal to Damaris. Damaris’s mentor is Vedana Oddheart, a mother who is also close with the High Mother, Mathienne Naesalor. If you really want to simplify it, you could simplify things into two… well, more like three factions. Those who follow Mathienne Naesalor, the High Mother. Those who follow the High Father, Arbelladon Warmspear. He’s losing supporters because of certain allegations, However, until he is brought down, he remains one of the most powerful of the Church. And then there are those who follow the Archbishop, Goren Wranyarus, and his close friend father, Anfather,” she says, then she scratches her chin and then lets out a sigh. “Well, the noble’s kind of form their own separate factions and, to be fair, not all nobles are the same. Some are more reasonable than others. But most think themselves above the rest.”
“What are the allegations against him?” I ask.
“Well, none seem to have substantial proof, and most were Novices who are no longer with the church. They said he… misbehaved with them,” she says.
“Like, had sex with them?” I ask.
“That’s putting it politely,” she says.
“You mean he raped them?” I ask, in shock.
“Well, they’re just allegations and I, myself, am not sure I believe them. All the ones who made allegations against him previously worked at Brothels. So, what does that tell you?” she asks, and her words cut like a dagger in my heart. Does she really think that just because someone worked in a brothel, they are untrustworthy? If she knew the truth, would she trust me? Would she even want to be my roommate? A thought in the back of my head really bothers me… The brothel, I remember… My eyes go wide. The High Father… He was a customer of Zaralraden! And the rumors about him were not too pretty. I do the hard thing and keep my words to myself; instead, I just nod my head. Clearly, she’s never felt true poverty.
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