Episode One
The Awakening
[6:30 AM; Temple District: The City Persyonis]
Quiet. These
days, mornings were always dreadfully quiet in the temple district.
Almost as quiet as the Champion Halls of Themes-Zera's
Courtyard; it was midsummer and the Mardions
were in training, not competing. A shame, High Priestess
Asthen'ri so enjoyed the arena matches.
The 'crunch
crunch' of footfalls upon the sand echoed in the vast
courtyard that lead to the main temple.
Temple Del’Cious. Like a snake behind her,
the High Priestess's robe swayed and fluttered here and there doing an
almost tempting dance alongside her graceful movements. Suddenly, all
was quiet again.
She had
stopped. Asthen'ri could never make it past
the temple's entrance without stopping before the statue that acted as
its doorway... It took four-hundred masonry men to sculpt, carve, and
lay the two-hundred and sixty feet marvel before the temple's entrance.
The same four-hundred gave their lives to color the statue with their
own blood. Glorious! They would be remembered for all time. A man, young
and mighty, sat at a large and ornate throne. His blood red armor was
carved beyond any mortal's eye of intricacy, his hair flowed long almost
melting into the regal cape that was draped over his right
arm, and on his left, he grasped a long stave
with an ankh decorating its head. Asthen'ri
looked upon the face of her Dehan ("Lord or
God") and smiled. No other power was greater, and in this image she was
reminded of that power. The power of a
true god! The High Priestess
could dally no longer, and wiping a small bead of sweat from her brow
she hurried herself along.
Clutching a
large tome tightly to her bosom and smiling all along,
Asthen'ri entered he massive temple. A vast
square hall made entirely of basalt; eight tall windows framed in red
limestone and cut at a slight angle provided the temple with enough
illumination that one was rumored to be able to see to its very end! The
ceiling was supported by one thousand columns, each with a tapering
finely fluted shaft resting on a torus with a circular base resembling
that of a talon, or claw. They were made of black marble, polished to
such a sheen that often times newcomers were
startled at the amount of people within the temple only to realize it
was their own reflection. Asthen'ri
approached the main dais of the temple, it
was lowered by at least four feet, circular, and twenty feet in
diameter. Around its upper edge sat dozens of priestesses, all sitting
quietly and humming. The base itself held three things; a lectern made
entirely of gold, a red brazier its glowing fire licking wildly of the
air around it, and finally a tall slab of black steel.
More a table than a piece of furniture. Where
normally there stood an altar, today, there was a rack of sorts. It was
lifted up to allow its resident, Mhan'ri, to
be in an upright position. She was bound by her wrists and ankles, and
still, even after all this time, slept soundly.
Dear
daughter, today you shall be a proud woman... Today, of all days, you
shall be a Khemet. A
child of our Dehan.
Asthen'ri thought.
The High
Priestess calmly approached her daughter and smiled.
Mhan'ri was her youngest, having given eight
children to the Ascendancy and three others already well into the
priesthood, Mhan'ri was the last to be
brought into the Blood-Circle. How proud she was! She lifted a soft hand
and moved a lock of hair from her daughter's face.
Asthen'ri stood once again behind the lectern and placed her tome
upon it. The words of their Dehan, written
by his most devout servants and brought only to the truly faithful... As
she opened the tome she looked upon her daughter once more and removed
her heavy robe.
Asthen'ri
threw her robe into the brazier, now, wearing only a light silken dress
her own sweat causing it to cling to her sides showing slight glimpses
of the skin beneath; the robe burned letting out an odd blue hued smoke.
Immediately four priestesses lifted large fans and began to fan at the
smoke. In a moment's notice Mhan'ri's
nostrils flared and her eyes shot open.
Mhan'ri
threw her head hard against the rack, she
craned her neck, and arched her back writhing for release. She tried
everything she could to escape, she would not.
Asthen'ri smiled slightly looking upon her daughter's form as it
moved, so often did she remind her of her own youth.
So graceful in movement... so beautiful. Soon, she would be more
than that. Now that her thirteenth year had come
Mhan'ri would truly be herself. She would be
Awoken.
Soon.
She shall feel the effects, she shall see the
truths of her mind. Yes. Soon she will-
"Aaaaahhh!!!!"
Asthen'ri's
thoughts were interrupted as her daughter gave out a shrieking,
piercing, scream.
Scream.
No
Khemet knew why it was that the sweat of a
high priest or priestess made others so... Active.
Asthen’ri knew, for when she had received
the tome she had also received another gift... Her
Dehan had changed her... The sweat of a high priest or priestess
could make someone feel a thousand feelings, think a hundred thoughts,
see visions of great or terrible things... but most powerful of all.
Most potent. Was the sweat when mixed with
the singing of their robes. When an un-woken
breathed the smoke for the very first time they felt all things so
profoundly. All of their senses heightened ten fold. Sometimes they saw
great images of lust or love, other times they saw images of horror or
war... It was always different what they saw but what they felt was
always the same. Love, fear, hate, happiness, all the capable emotions
of a mortal wrapped inside of one experience. The Awakening was
sometimes so profound that the soon-awakened would die; not
Mhan'ri, no, she would live.
For she was the daughter of High Priestess
Asthen'ri. Not a weakling.
The
Awakening needed such strong methods, after
all, they were to become Khemet. No
Khemet was weak. No
Khemet would allow weakness. And no, not any,
Khemet lived in self doubt, self fear...
That was what the Awakening was about. To release the soul from the
confines of the mind! To enlighten one's spirit and lead them on the
righteous path; who better? He was the one who lead them all into the
light. Away from falsehoods and shadows.
Asthen'ri
looked upon the fires of the brazier, the flames' color often shifting,
melting, and becoming one with the blue hued mist that was her own
sweat... She allowed herself to fall into a sort of trance. Her head
then lifted upwards to the temple's ceiling... Where, fitted into the
ceiling's center, was the Ultia-Nerut.
A shining, pulsing, glowing, living thing.
To many non-awakened a giant diamond-shaped
crystalline object that lit the temple's rooftop with a beam of light so
powerful that it could be seen from anywhere around the city. It was
more than that. The Ultia-Nerut was by far
more important, more powerful than was known. A
beacon. A way for their Dehan to hear
them, to feel them, and best of all... To lead them.
The Ultia-Nerut served as a way to lead the
faithful towards Ultrias; their paradise.
The high
priestess's thoughts drifted, all ambient noise slowly faded to a low
hum, and then silence. Her mind ventured about the temple, as it always
did in deep mediation. In one section of the temple High Priest
Ghes'orel lead his fellow priests in prayer
their lyrical chant was followed by the crack of a whip upon their soft,
exposed flesh. In another hall she could almost feel the emotional burst
of a pair copulating, most likely High Priestess
Fen'yarra prayed softly, allowing their copulation to succeed in
granting the newlyweds a child. By the feel and sound of it, they may
just succeed indeed, Asthen'ri hoped for the
very best in their new future. Several more halls down
she could smell the ritual pyres burning...
Which meant, a family had been chosen for Ascension.
Oh! How she envied them! Out of a family of sixteen
Asthen'ri was only one of three to be left in the mortal realm...
How disappointed she had been, not allowed to go along with her brothers
and sisters to their Dehan's palace where
they would serve as divine warriors or messengers;
Dehan had greater plans for she and her siblings however. Now
they served the people, as High regulators of the faith. She was proud.
Just then
her head snapped back to the fires of the brazier. She would not allow
her mind to drift too far away from the task at hand. The high priestess
raised her hands abruptly and began to read from the holy book; as she
read, her daughter screamed and acted wildly - both pain and ecstasy
coursing through her - and her priestesses hummed softly.
"Dehan
Anubis! We beseech thee!! Here us dearest, greatest,
Dehan!!!" She cried from the holy
writ. "I, High Priestess Asthen'ri, call
upon your divine favor to pay witness to this young soul's awakening!!
Mhan'ri's soul cries for release, please
Dehan, hear us!!" The humming of the
priestesses grew louder. "Free her soul by shattering the shackles of
her mind so that she may serve you in life... and in death!!!"
All grew in
an eerie silence.
They all
stood quiet, Mhan'ri's screaming and moans
turned into softer gentler sounds. The high priest stared upward at the
Ultia-Nerut. The other priestesses simply
clasped a hand over their mouths while their free hand was outstretched
toward the ceiling.
Without
notice a warm glow came down upon the gathering. The reflective columns
shown brightly and the walls and ceiling sparkled like the night sky. A
warmth over took them all and Asthen'ri
shivered slightly. She always loved this part, as if the hand of her
very Dehan had passed over her naked body,
to touch her soul.
"It is time
brothers and sisters!! Let us awaken her soul!" She shouted to the
others.
The priests
and priestesses that once sat now stood, throwing off their own heavy
garments to stand naked before the high priestess. Beautiful, glistening
bodies stood still for a moment. Hanging from their waist and the ends
of their hair were tiny silver links, at the ends of the links, were
sharpened pieces of bronze shaped like a claw or tooth. They all stepped
down into the dais and made a circle around Mhan'ri.
"Who do we
beseech?!" Asthen'ri shouted.
The priests
and priestesses raised their hands way above their heads and shouted;
"Our Dehan, Lord Anubis, great power of the
cosmos and father of our people!"
"Then go,
call out to him and pray that our souls are worthy!!"
Asthen'ri cried.
In that
moment the priests and priestesses shut their eyes and shook their
entire bodies before erupting into dance. They danced wildly at times
and slowly at others, almost reflecting what
Mhan'ri's own mind was going through and with every step, every
leap, every twist, and every turn the sharpened bronze "teeth" lashed
their bare flesh. Some so sharp it left gashes upon their legs and arms,
others just sharp enough to cut.
Droplets of
blood began to fall to the floor, the fire's own dance changed as the
smoke was gone only to be tempted by the rain of blood that sometimes
came too near... Upon her own daughter’s naked form blood began to
decorate like the scales of some great dragon... This was it, they would
be done with it soon...
Asthen'ri
continued to read aloud from the holy writ as the frenzied dance
continued.
"... and
hear me again my children, for faith in me is freedom from the shackles
that bind you. The tyranny that seeks to mold you into pawns and slaves!
Faith in me is freedom!! The freedom to do with your life and have
whatever you want! To create a destiny for yourself you would otherwise
be denied! My children, I, I who created
you... I ask only for your faith. Be devoted to me without faults or
doubts and I promise that you and your soul shall be free from the
shadows of false gods and creators!!" Asthen'ri
had read this passage so many times she did not even need to look upon
the book's pages... She dreamt of the day of her death, when she would
look upon her Dehan's eyes and loving say
I am faithful
"It is his
word Mhan'ri, a word that you will know! A
word that you shall feel! AWAKEN Mhan'ri and
you shall be embraced into his own when your time comes near!!"
Asthen'ri cried. She must admit, doing it
for her own child always made her shout and cry the hardest. It mattered
not, none of her ilk had ever needed a push
toward faith.
Asthen'ri
began to read the passage of Ultrias.
The passage that spoke of the journey and what he
had to achieve in order to arrive inside of his divine palace.
Her heart beat so fast she thought she would burst into
tears, all the while she began to feel the
energies of her fellows and her daughter.
Spilling
like a fountain their energy would flow into the
Ultia-Nerut. It would grant them the ability to tear away the
mind-trap that her soul fought even now! Already she could see the
slight changes in her daughter taking form, yes, they would be
painful... but in the end, it was a small price to pay.
A small price to pay indeed.
For she would pay anything for her faith.
As
Asthen'ri continued to read she called forth
another priest with the wave of her hand. She had picked priest
Xem'nar to be the one who performed the last
rights for Mhan'ri. She had chosen him
because not only was he a master artisan in his craft but he was about
to become a high priest, thus, his last piece of canvas would be
Mhan'ri... Excellent.
Just how Asthen'ri had
planned it. He pulled forth a small needle-like rod and tiny
hammer. Dipping the needle first into the fire he waited until it was
just hot enough then dipped into a small vial of red liquid. He began,
as he usually did, with the flesh above Mhan'ri's
left breast.
"Do not
struggle too much m'dear, soon it shall be
ova' and you can look into zee mirror wit' a smile." He whispered
pressing the needle point against her flesh then hitting the rod's top
once, then twice, with the hammer.
The first
mark had been made.
High
Priestess Asthen'ri knew it would take some
time, this was it... The final test of the strengths of one's soul...
The tattooing process usually took around three to four hours, depending
on how much they struggled. The priests and priestesses would continue
their dance, unaffected by their own exhaustion for they enjoyed
themselves too much lost in their own euphoria.
Asthen'ri began to drift to those days... In her youth she was a
fine dancer, one who was admired and envied.
Asthen'ri couldn't help but smile. She pictured one of those very
days... Asthen'ri danced for the wedding
ritual of her husband's eldest brother, he had fallen in love with her
during that ritual dance and began to court her almost on the very next
day; she had fallen for him only months after when he had slain his fist
Mardion, as a token of his love he had
presented the Mardion's heart to her.
Asthen'ri's thoughts came into the present
when she imagined her husband; he jumped over the arena stand after
beheading his opponent. Still the best warrior of
his generation in fact. Asthen'ri
blinked her memories away and let her eyes fall upon the dancers.
I must
remember to lay with Broen'ri tonight!
She thought, becoming a ever more enticed by
her own memories of her warrior husband.
They were
days she sometimes wished she could return to, the very struggle to rise
to power had been more exciting. Now however, she sat at the top. Being
the High Priestess of Persyonis was the most
powerful position under the Viceroy and most importantly of all she was
closer to her Dehan than she had ever
dreamed! Serving Dehan Anubis's people, his
voice upon the city! Yes. Yes, that very fact made her hold no regrets.
“It
iz done!”
Cried priest Xem’nar.
He stepped
away from Mhan’ri to reveal to all her
awakened body. Once a frail, though beautiful, form
was now a strong robust body. Tiny scales lined her frame some
even glistening with the sweat and blood that poured off of her. Her
hair had changed color as well, it was a pale
green color that would slowly change with age to a more darker hue. Just
like her mother’s. Asthen’ri could barely
contain herself from running towards her daughter, how proud she was at
this moment!! Mhan’ri had survived. Her soul
saved from the prison of her mind.
“Got’ano
and Sahv’den take her to the bathing hall
and make sure her ink is sealed. I shall be with you in a moment.”
Asthen’ri ordered.
The two
priestesses did just that. They removed Mhan’ri
from the rack and lifted her up. Despite the fact she was conscious she
was barely capable of moving on her own. It was expected.
[4:30 PM; Temple Del’Cious: Bathing Chamber]
Steam rose
slowly like the hands of praying Khemet.
Slowly wavering and bending as it rose higher like the bodies of the
dancers themselves. Mhan’ri leaned her head
back against the edge of the vast pool and smiled. The ceiling was
vaulted and on its surface a vast painting depicting the fight for their
souls. The Khemet had been saved; once they
were weak, frail things… Spawn of the Advent. False
gods. They were beyond that now, they no longer lived in self
doubt or fear, they were free and more than
enough to mold their own destinies… Instead of
creatures that lived solely to survive, playing pieces on the chess
board. Well, another player had entered. One born of their own
ilk, one who had made himself a god! The mural was glorious, a true
sense of why they were so devout… There he was, their Great Dragon,
fighting against the evil Advent… There he was, their
Dehan, their father… He saved them. Many
older generations still remembered being part of the ‘shadowed’ or as
they once called themselves AAR. A name that wreaked
of a weakness like a cancer. Anubis had found a cure. It was inside each
of the Khemet. It WAS the
Khemet. And now,
Mhan’ri was part of them. Awakened.
Dearest
Dehan, father of Khemet,
Great Dragon, Devourer of the Advent… Lord Anubis… I thank you.
Mhan’ri
was lost in her thoughts as she raised her hand to her own eyes. Tiny
scales flecked with the hanging burners, small sconces lay lit on the
four doorways. They too seemed to show her the marvel she was. Her hair
felt heavier, somehow… Odd. Looking into the
pool again her smiled widened.
Eye like her father. Just
as she hoped.
Slight
movement, and a familiar scent, caught Mhan’ri’s
attention and she turned. Behind her was her mother, still the most
silent priestess she knew.
“Let me have
a look at your new form, daughter.”
Mhan’ri’s
eyes widened. Never had she heard her mother call her such… She could
barely contain her own expression as she nodded and rose from the pool.
Daughter. She would finally be known… be
heard… Finally she could begin her ascent to power. Her mother’s smile
told her that.
“The finest
artist, for the finest Khemet.”
Asthen’ri muttered with praise.
Her tattoo
covered the left side of her body from just beneath her collar bone to
her thigh. Like an angry flame is writhed and twined about.
Sometimes bending other times moving stiffly.
It appeared as though indeed it could move, though, only when
Mhan’ri herself was moving.
Xem’nar had been careful to leave some
fading marks, to really blend in the tattoo. On
Mhan’ri’s own skin it seemed as if she had worn it forever!
Turning about so that her mother could see the finer details she was
proud to stand as tall as she could. The tattoo covered her side and
some of her butt. Asthen’ri was heard
gasping before Mhan’ri turned to face her,
curious.
“You’re…
So… So beautiful…”
Mhan’ri
could only tear up, her mother sniffled
happily as she held her sleeves up to her mouth.
Trying to be silent. She was the high priestess, holding any bias
was against the code. Regardless, Mhan’ri
approached her mother and gave her a tight hug.
“I made it
mother. I am of the Khemet.
Now, truly, a child of our beloved
Dehan.”
Mhan’ri’s
whispered brought an even tighter hug from her mother.
With the
Awakening now over Mhan’ri was considered
part of her society, she was now able to shape her life as she pleased.
She could marry, procreate, even take part in
the rituals and ceremonies of her people. Mhan’ri
was now an adult.
The two
stood silently in a loving embrace for nearly three minutes. Each proud
of the other, each happy with this turn of events, this new path set
before them. Asthen’ri knew
Mhan’ri desired the position of priestess
and someday high priestess; Mhan’ri knew,
well enough, her mother would guard that position with her life… The two
would soon know each other as competitions that very realization
couldn’t have made them happier. For the Khemet
were not weak, and through their children showed the greater purpose -
to breed a stronger future, to be a stronger child. Failure to bring a
child stronger than you into the world meant failure as a child of
Anubis himself, and that simply was not tolerated.
Asthen’ri
held her daughter in arms length. She kissed her upon the forehead and
took a step back. “Mhan’ri, daughter of High
Priestess Asthen’ri and High
Ordinator Broen’ri,
you are now of the purest of blood. Today and for all days you are a
child of our most beloved Dehan. May the
wings of our Dehan embrace you in life, and
may his thirst be satisfied by your soul in death. As we-”
“We are one
with him, the holiest of being, in death.”
Mhan’ri’s
interruption was expected. It was a warning. Good, the girl’s ordeal had
not killed the fire. No. It was just stronger, hungrier… It was
Awakened. Asthen’ri
nodded giving a stern look then turned from her. As
Asthen’ri headed toward the doorway two priestesses entered with
towels and new clothes. Asthen’ri glanced
back at her daughter only to see Mhan’ri’s
eyes still upon her mother. Asthen’ri knew
what was to come, and she wished her daughter the best of luck. Though,
luck was a vestigial word to the Khemet.
Still. She decided upon the word.
“You are to
present yourself before the Viceroy’s council before the day is through.
Afterward you shall be met by your family and they shall take you home.
A celebration does indeed await you… You have earned it, fellow sister.”
Asthen’ri’s
word hit both the priestesses aiding Mhan’ri
and Mhan’ri herself. The
chosen usage of “sister”. Her mother’s way of
warning her. She knew, as did all of them, when
Mhan’ri met with the High Council she would
be going into the Monastery of Gherlen to
become a “fellow sister” - A priestess.
As mother and daughter parted ways they both raised their eyes to the heavens. Asthen’ri in the front court of the temple and Mhan’ri in the back steps that lead to the council’s chambers. They did this to settle their minds, to bring their senses to a calming resonance. For now they controlled that prison, as all Khemet did. Mhan’ri shut her eyes and concentrated as hard as she could, when she felt herself above the ground by an inch she opened them again and looked to the council chambers before her. Then, as did many Khemet, hovered to her destination with the power of her own thoughts.
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