… The initiate is then lead into a darkened room in the center of the temple, where a room containing a pool surrounded by white marble pillars are. Murals depicting the rise of the Shuddering Palace and the founding of the Empire cover every inch of the walls. The most prominent motif that permeates throughout the artwork is that of motherhood, namely, the Empress’s role as both the mother of the Shuddering Palace and, in some sense, mother of every citizen in the Iridescent Empire. The initiate is then blindfolded made to sit in the pool. The witch, or to use the term that Sensileans prefer, the Priestess, then leads the initiate through several lessons.
The Priestess begins: “My child, the powers of observation is one of the most important lessons that I will teach you. We, who practice the Hidden Arts, must stand against all threats posed against the Empress and all her children. To fight against these threats, we must know of these threats.”
“But I do not understand,” the initiate replies. “How will sitting in an empty room with a blindfold over my eyes improve my powers of observation?”
The Priestess lets out a sigh. “This is no mere empty room, child. It is at the heart of the Temple of the Holy Mother, which is itself at the heart of the holiest city. So listen. Listen closely with your ears and your heart, and tell me all that is that you hear.”
The initiate frowns in concentration. “I… I can hear heartbeats,” she finally says.
“Very good,” the Priestess replies, nodding. “Tell me more.”
“I hear the heartbeats of many men and women in the city, beating in unison with the Shuddering Palace. The Empire is united in love and harmony. I hear the excited chatters of merchants in the forum, the symbol of the Empire’s prosperity. I hear the music that sings praise to the Empress. It is… beautiful…”
The Priestess shakes her head, disappointed. “I said the same thing as you did when I was in the pool, child. I lied, just as you lied. In the future, be unafraid to tell me that you hear nothing. Also, you must explain to me how you heard all those things while failing to notice the scribbling noise made by that s-
“-py’s pen behind the pillar over yonder there,” said the Priestess. Jol, the Master Anthropologist of the Nivian College, looked down on his notes and frowned. Something was terribly wrong. The realization hit him like a four horse chariot and he rose up from his hiding spot with a start- too late. He was staring into the grinning face of the Priestess. In her hand was an ornate silver knife, bejeweled with pieces of the Shuddering Palace. He ducked and rolled out of the way of the expected slash and ended up running straight into the initiate who had, by this time, clambered out of the pool after removing the blindfold. Unlike the Priestess, the Initiate was well-built, drenched, and most importantly of all, not at all smiling.
The Priestess let out a cackle. “A scholar of Nivia, so far from the safety of your college? What is your name and for what purpose have you wandered into this temple? Do you desire the sanctity of the Holy Mother?”
“I…err…”
“Should I call the guards?” the Initiate said, her voice frigid; the tone of annoyance clear.
“No, no, this is more amusing this way,” the Priestess mused. “Go on, answer the question and we may decide not to kill you or something else depending on my whims.”
The scholar didn’t even dwell on considering what that ‘something’ was. “I am Jol of Athica, on a mission to learn about the culture and customs of the Iridescent Empire. I was trying to learn more about the wi- Cult of the Holy Mother. I did not intend on doing anything to-“
“I’ve heard enough,” said the grinning Priestess. “And have decided upon your punishment.”
Jol gulped. “And…?”
The Priestess’s eyes widened in glee “First, you shall be str-“
Halt. The grin vanished from the Priestess’s face in a second. Both her and the initiate seemed as if they had no choice but to comply as they began to back away from Jol. For his part, Jol discovered that he could no longer reach the Step-Through spell charm that he had prepared for just such an occasion.
For a century Mother stayed within the chambers of my heart, content and pleased. A warmth fell over my soul and stillness in my flesh.
A few grim-faced guards entered the chamber with swords drawn. The door behind them shut without anyone touching it.
Then did she wake and see the danger written in the stars, the tension and fear in the air. Then did I wake and see and hear the old tyrants circle to destroy my Lady, my queen.
Jol grimaced in concentration. Why couldn’t he reach the charm? If he could just reach the charm, he could step through. Disappear away from this place.
A darkness will soon fall over my heart, an emptiness over my soul. She shall take the bird and leave behind the throne room. She desires to see what the stars warned of with her own eyes. I cannot stop her.
You too must see this horror. Your superiors may be aware of the stars' warnings too, but they do not understand with their heart nor their eyes. You shall.
The guards began to advance. Jol let out a cry of relief as his hands finally broke through the psychic hold and grasped the charm. He shouted in victory as he raised aloft the small triangular crystallized spell.
He leapt.
His fit of laughter died out as he failed to recognize his surroundings. Instead of the familiar stone walls of his inn, the walls and floor tiles of this structure was made out of solid blocks of blue crystals. A large bed, also made of crystals and actually carved into the floor, stood at the center of the room. A strange sense of warmth from unseen sources permeated the room. Other than the crystals, however, there were no decorations in the room. The bed was just a bed, lacking any kind of ornamentation that is so common in Sensealean art. The walls lacked any kind of paintings or murals. By a large crystalline window were a bookcase, table, and a chair. A lone figure of a woman sat on the chair, sipping on a small glass full of a mysterious liquid.
“Where… where am I?” Jol muttered. “How did you redire-“
The woman picked up a small charm that lay on the table and waved it towards Jol. Jol recognized it as the Destination half of the Step Through charm, which he had hidden in his inn. “Oh,” he said. The woman turned to face Jol, a small hint of a smile upon the mouth, a mask concealing everything else.
Jol paled as he recognized the woman known as the Empress of Sensinsal.