Part IV

A Chapter by speckledbyrd

This scene is by no means done. I am just too tired to finish it tonight. To be continued!

Present day

Sitting on the outcrop of a low hill Etta swung her legs back and forth, pondering the cream chiffon shade of dead grass, seeing as it was spreading out in every direction around her. The wind had started to pick up, foretelling a rainstorm that would never come. They had been out here for hours, doing absolutely nothing, but daydreaming the hours away. Being human, Etta was of the lowest rank, but nothing that she minded. She was the handmaiden to her best friend Ayla, who was at the moment dozing in the grass next to her and hiding from her mother simultaneously.

Etta glanced down at her friend if not sister. She was given to Ayla when she was very small. Yarah thought it was a good match, seeing as Ayla had no siblings and Etta was only two years her elder. It wasn’t the chore it sounded, Etta generally felt very protective of Ayla, prying unwanted suitors away from her. Although, she didn’t blame them, Ayla was a beauty. She had long obsidian hair, slanted eyes, and olive skin. Her triangle face gave the implication of a cat but, no, Ayla’s Mark was the blue feathers at the base of her left ear. Underneath her ear her pale, coffee skin changed into a swath of electric blue that extended out to her collarbone, indicating the blue bird she could gracefully shift into. On the other hand, Ayla’s personality was the polar opposite of her graceful shift. If , she thought it, she spoke it. While others thought her tone was condescending, Ayla only thought of it as constructive criticism.

Etta knew she was beautiful, too. Others have told her so, how her small heart shaped face looked like the moon in a sky of mahogany hair, and her gray eyes bore into every soul she deigned her gaze upon. But, where Ayla captured everyone’s attention with her blunt opinions, Etta had a quiet intensity that made people hesitate. Ayla spoke with her words and Etta spoke with her actions. They complemented each other wonderfully.

The two of them were supposed to be running errands for Ayla’s mother. Seeing the reluctance on Ayla’s face, Etta had no regrets when she convinced her friend into escaping her mother’s dull needs and taking a walk out of the village and into the endless plains of sunny dead grass.

Sitting up Ayla announces, “Time to go home. The crickets are causing havoc on my gentle demeanor.” Laughing, I get up to follow her home. We reach the village within 20 minutes, just as the sun was setting.

Our people all lived in the ruin of a long dead civilization. Buildings of stone, and brick, and clay were littered over the steppe. The Malach tribes were spread out over 100 miles with our encampment being on the edge, and also the capitol; the capitol was where the Empress resides. We all were slightly different form each other, but every tribe radiated with color. Maybe it was to make up for the flat, dead characteristics that surround us, or maybe it was because we were all delusional from the lack of good, clean water, but a Malach village was never considered dull. As Ayla and I set foot in the row of low buildings, the sun was at our backs making the yards of vibrant crimson and violet tapestries the hung from window to window across the streets glow. Where the ruin that we live in was once shattered, we had filled in the missing walls and cracks with yellow clay. Even if you'd had never met one, you could tell the Malach were a people of feeling and emotion. Grudges ran deep, but then so did love. They took their time to make things beautiful, down to the detail. And then they wore their Marks with pride.

Ayla pushed open the front door to her villa to find her mother standing in the foyer talking to a man. In particular, it was Viktor Far’loch. Ayla and Etta exchanged a look.

Catching sight of them Ayla’s mother Tziporrah exclaimed, “Where have you two been? Never mind, the High Bishop is here to see you, Etta.”

Turning to the man she continued, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my daughter and I have household affairs to tend to”

“Of course” replied Viktor. As Ayla followed quickly behind her mother, Viktor turned towards me.

Keeping my eyes downcast like a good slave I greeted him,

“Your Holiness.”

Viktor’s eyes held contempt, looking me up and down. My sand colored trousers were covered in grass stains and pale blue blouse did not hold any fine gems or gold stitching of a Malach.

“Come,” he said, as if to a dog. “You and others will be cleaning the Temple tonight. There is a harvest moon in four days and all that are not expendable are needed”

I had no say in this.

The Temple was a grand structure, even for the Malachim. A domed building made of the yellow clay bricks. There were no windows on the outside. The idea was to pay attention to your prayers and nothing else. The structure had a main chamber that was entirely finished, the further you got away from the center the more it started to look like a ruin, until you got to the very outside walls which had already started to collapse. The inside of the structure had wide hallways, arched doorways and high ceilings. The floors were inlayed with a mosaic that covered the main chamber and adjoining hallways.

We had hundreds of gods. There was one for everything, every hope and every fear. There needed to be a large temple for all of them. The main chamber was a circular room with double doors on opposite ends. The walls had small alcoves lined all the way from floor to the domed ceiling. In each one there was a small figurine of one of our gods. Each one unique made of different stone. The effect was daunting, like you were stripped naked before them and all your wrongs were laid out, like they could see everything.

Following Viktor into the main chamber, I had anticipated what he wanted of me. Dealing with recent attack from the Anachim took the people’s attention away from the Temple. Dust was coating the walls and mud was trekked though the hallways. About 15 other servants were already here scrubbing away at the floors and walls and the delicate statues.

“The fall equinox is going to be here in four days. You and the others here will clean this place until I can see my reflection. The building needs to glow for the Festival. You are to forfeit all other duties to your house and employers until this is done. Is this understood?”

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