Chapter 1: Life Anew (for the Virtuous)A Chapter by AnonymousLad Big things often have small beginings. From a little acorn does a large tree grow. A childrens' game could have vast consequences for all who live in the paradise of Silver-eye valley, under His Tower Prologue:
“I hear they can speak in this weird language that only the Soulkeeper can understand. They can use it to tell the Soulkeeper what to do.” “Don’t be stupid, Enyani. Nobody tells the Soulkeeper what to do. Nobody.” “I’m not stupid, Dryn,” Enyani retorted defensively. Why did the others always think she was stupid just because she was a girl? She was better at sums, history, worship and several other lessons than Dryn, Hrad, Yrah and most of the other boys were. She could run faster and climb trees better than some of them, too. “Yeah, well my uncle told me that nobody can control the Soulkeeper. We’re like ants to him. And my uncle should know; he was training to be a Soulservant until he lost his arm.” Enyani poked her tongue out at Dryn, who was wearing that smug smile he always wore when he thought he had outsmarted someone. “Why do they wear those masks? Why aren’t we allowed to see their faces?” piped up little Yrah, desperate to be part of the conversation. He idolised the other children in the class, who were all a year older than him. He would do anything to earn their respect. “You at the back! Pay attention!” snapped the soulservant who was their worship teacher for this morning. Yrah’s face went red. He wasn’t ashamed of angering the soulservant; they were just big bullies who hid behind their masks and robes, claiming that the Soulkeeper favoured them and treating everyone else like dirt. Rather, Yrah knew that the other children would be annoyed with him now. He had never been very good at whispering, and now their hushed conversation had been noticed. They would dislike him even more now. There were eighteen children in the class. They had gathered, as they did every third morning, to attend worship lessons in the Temple. They sat on thin cushions and listened to a soulservant drone on and on about the best ways to show gratitude to the almighty, all powerful Soulkeeper. Seventeen of the students were a dozen winters old, but Yrah was only eleven. He had been pushed forward a year of education at the insistence of his father that he was a genius. A prodigy, even. Yrah wasn’t so sure. He didn’t feel special. He felt small, and not just because he was shorter than most of his classmates. He felt particularly small inside the Temple. Presently, the soulservant teacher (Brother Kye for today, arguably the most conceited, arrogant one of all) cleared his throat and continued his lecture in his deep, gravelly voice. “As I was saying, we have a very special treat today. You children are going to witness a judgement.” At this, a ripple of excitement swept through the class. None of them had ever seen a judgement take place before. They had all lain on the altar at some point, each and every one of them. It wasn’t the same for children though. The Soulkeeper always resurrected children. Every single time. The soulservants said it was because children were innocent and pure. Yrah, however was not hugely excited. Judgements never captivated him like they did the others. Just a shining light, and then someone would either wake up, or they wouldn't. Yrah stifled a yawn and raised his eyes to the ceiling. Above him was 'the eye', the gaping, round hole in the ceiling of the Temple through which the Soulkeeper would shine his divine light. At the moment the eye was dark. But Yrah knew that if a judgement was going to take place, that would change in a moment. Brother Kye drew his ceremonial horn from the folds of his heavy, silver robes and blew into it. He didn’t raise his mask, as it was forbidden for commoners like the children to gaze upon the face of a Soulservant. Instead he pushed the end of the horn through a slit cut into the mouth of the mask specifically for this purpose. It produced a loud, mournful note that echoed around the Temple and then faded into nonexistence. In the centre of the vast, cavernous room that was the Temple sat an ornate altar. It was positioned directly underneath the eye. Dug into the edge of the altar was a deep trough filled to the brim with crystal clear water. It rimmed the flat, table-like top like a moat. At Brother Kye's signal, two more soulservants entered the Temple from a side-chamber, carrying between them what was clearly a corpse with a blanket draped over it. A woman of about forty winters walked along behind them. The Soulservants approached this altar and set the body down upon it, then removed the blanket with a flourish. An elderly man with a beak-like nose, bony chin and grey hair now lay upon the altar. A thin, white gown covered his thin frame. “Look how knobbly his toes are,” giggled Enyani. “He looks like a horse,” added Dryn. Yrah craned his neck, looking for something else about the dead man’s appearance that he could comment on. Something funny, something that would make the others laugh. But then Brother Kye’s voice sounded again, and he realised that he had missed his opportunity. “Silence!” Kye thundered, as the other two soulservants bowed respectfully and backed away from the altar. The woman stood quietly and dignified at Kye’s side. “Children, this man is called Teq Umbar. Some of you may know him. He is a farmer in the eastern reaches of the valley. And this,” he gestured to the woman, “is his granddaughter, Pila. It is customary for a dead person to have a single family member present for their Judgement. This relative is known as ‘the witness’.” Hrad, ever inquisitive, raised his hand. “How many times has Teq been Judged before?” he asked. “This is Teq’s fifth Judgement. Obviously so far the glorious Soulkeeper has judged him worthy each time. We shall see if he has lived a life free of sin since his last revival.” Hrad raised his hand again. “How long has this man been dead, Brother Kye?” “He died yesterday afternoon. He fell from his roof while trying to reach an injured bird. Normally we commence the Judging as soon as the body is brought to the Temple. However, we decided to keep this man to demonstrate for today’s class.” “How old is this m…” “Hrad! Enough questions!” “Sorry, Brother Kye.” Suddenly, a beam of white light shot from the ‘eye’ in the ceiling and onto the altar. Teq’s still face was illuminated by the Soulkeeper’s rays. “Watch the body, children,” warned Kye in a hushed voice. “Do not look directly at the eye, it will blind you.” Paying these words no heed, Yrah’s gaze was fixed on the dead man’s granddaughter, Pila. She was around the same age as Yrah’s own mother, but her eyes still held a youthful twinkle. The light of the Soulkeeper engulfing her grandfather was awe-inspiring, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all. She must be very confident that Teq was a good man, Yrah decided. That was the only reason anybody could watch the process so calmly.
Yrah’s father had died, once. It was an illness that had swept through the Silver-eye valley several summers ago. Yrah hadn’t been allowed to attend the Judgement, of course. Yrah’s mother had been the witness instead. Yrah himself had stayed at home, incredibly nervous. He had nearly worn through the carpet by pacing back and forth before the hearth so much. He knew his father was a good man and never sinned or committed crimes against the village, but still... what if the Soulkeeper refused? What if Yrah’s father died for real? Until his parents, both alive and well had returned from the Temple and walked through the front door of the cottage, Yrah had been beside himself with anxiety. He admired how unperturbed and untroubled Pila appeared now. She must be certain that the Soulkeeper would find Teq worthy of revival. Well, either that or she doesn’t like him very much, and doesn’t care either way, another voice in Yrah’s head pointed out. The Soulkeeper's rays engulfed the altar, growing in intensity until Teq's body became totally invisible. Eventually it became so that looking at the altar was akin to looking at the sun, and the children all looked away, shading their eyes with their hands. Pila did the same, but Brother Kye stood stock still, gazing directly at the brilliance. How can he do that? wondered Yrah. It must be the mask. It must protect him somehow. At last, the light faded and the class looked with bated breath to the altar. Teq did not stir. Pila frowned, and Kye moved forward. He looked into the trough of water, then gave a cry of shock and turned his face away. “Children! Come, crowd around!” The class did so, puzzled. Yrah, being so short was able to push through the throng to the front. He saw that the water had turned from its previous clarity to an opaque, swirling blackness. “What happened? Why isn’t Teq moving?” asked Hrad. “Yes, I would like to know that myself,” added Pila. Her calmness was gone now, replaced with barely concealed indignation. “During a judging,” answered Brother Kye, “the Soulkeeper looks upon the dead person’s soul, evaluates it, and then conveys what He sees through the water in this trough. If the person is virtuous and free of sin, then the water shall remain clear and the person will be resurrected. If not, then the water shall become cloudy. The cloudier the water, the uglier He deemed the person’s soul. And this,” he gestured with obvious disgust at the black muck, “is the worst that I have ever seen.” This was met with stunned silence. It was Pila, furious now, who finally broke it. “That can’t be, Brother Kye. My grandfather was... is a good man. He’s been Judged and found worthy four times in the past.” Kye’s face was obviously hidden behind his mask, but Yrah imagined that he was sneering at the woman. This was confirmed by the level of contempt present in his reply. “With all due respect, the Soulkeeper is never wrong.” “Enough games, Kye. If Teq doesn’t wake up in the next ten seconds, there will be trouble. I’ll see you unmasked and dishonoured before the entire valley!” Kye moved so that the group of children separated him from Pila and the altar on which the corpse lay, then raised a finger threateningly. “The Soulkeeper has spoken! This man is a heathen and a sinner! He shall be cremated at dusk, and if you attempt to disrupt this, I will summon the guard!” Thus far, the children had stood and watched this increasingly heated conversation with mouths agape. Kye turned to them now, as much to stop talking to Pila as anything. “Children, go outside. The lesson is over for today.” The class marched solemnly past the body on the altar and towards the exit. Yrah noticed that the black water in the trough had started to bubble ever so slightly, like a kettle on the verge on boiling. © 2013 AnonymousLadAuthor's Note
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AnonymousLadPitcairnAboutI'm an amateur writer who has a strong aversion to showing half-finished work to other people. I'm hoping to get some feedback on my 'work' here, where I can share my writing anonymously. Maybe if I.. more..Writing
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