North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
The blood of mortals is that which is most kin to the immortals. For blood is life; life flows through our veins. Blood is the giver of all movement and energy, the vitality that drives a living thing. And it is blood that holds the true power of man.
- The Book of Blood
They called the temple the Conclave in those days. It was, they said, the first holy place of men, a place where the priests could gather and talk. The sacrificial altar here was little used, but almost every holy man of Evet had passed between the tall standing stones. Here, they learned the Book of Blood, and the Book of Ages. Here, they prayed to the gods, maintained a dozen shrines, and dissected the myths that already grew old in retellings. Here, they tried to understand the world within, and the world without.
It was the young priest's home no longer.
He rooted through his room, flinging aside the vestments that lay scattered across the floor, searching for the few things that might be worth taking with him. The rich clothing would be useless to him. A knife, twenty times more valuable, went through his belt. A walking stick he could find later, no need to carry it with him now. Turning to go, the scrolls gave him pause. None of them were unusual, by themselves. But even so, they might help him year hence...
No time to think about it. He gathered one of them and ran from the room, feet pounding on the stone floors. The footsteps echoed through the chambers, the slaps of sandals prompting others to give chase. They were not hunting for him – not yet, but no doubt they would. He ran faster.
A cool breeze whipped his face as he lef the temple stones behind him, fleeing into the city night. Sleepy beggars stirred and watched him with wide, wary eyes, but no one stopped him. Yet. He knew that the gates would be closed through the night, and even though the walls might be easy enough to climb and leap down, the guards would not take kindly to some man in the middle of the night, even one who fled the city. There had to be alternatives.
The docks? He dismissed the idea as quickly as it occurred to him. Even should he sneak onto a ship, the sailors did not take kindly to men appearing in their midst, and it might take days for one to leave. Was there some other, secret way? His run faltered as he realized the temple was far out of sight, and he had no idea where he was going.
The sun was rising.
His heart started beating faster. Perhaps he could swim out the harbor? But they would never let him pass in the light, and he would have to hide for the day. No matter what path he imagined, he would have to get out of the streets. These people did not know his face, but soon there would be the temple knives.
“Priest?” asked a confused voice. He spun, and saw a woman standing in the door of her home. Her shadow started to form on the ground beside her, and he saw a reddish glow above the horizon out of the corner of his eye. He was out of time.
“Do not call me that,” he said, his voice betraying his fear. “I flee the day terrors, Idara.”
The woman regarded him with an even eye. “Come in.” And the sun left his cloak untouched as he slipped into the building.
- The Book of Blood
They called the temple the Conclave in those days. It was, they said, the first holy place of men, a place where the priests could gather and talk. The sacrificial altar here was little used, but almost every holy man of Evet had passed between the tall standing stones. Here, they learned the Book of Blood, and the Book of Ages. Here, they prayed to the gods, maintained a dozen shrines, and dissected the myths that already grew old in retellings. Here, they tried to understand the world within, and the world without.
It was the young priest's home no longer.
He rooted through his room, flinging aside the vestments that lay scattered across the floor, searching for the few things that might be worth taking with him. The rich clothing would be useless to him. A knife, twenty times more valuable, went through his belt. A walking stick he could find later, no need to carry it with him now. Turning to go, the scrolls gave him pause. None of them were unusual, by themselves. But even so, they might help him year hence...
No time to think about it. He gathered one of them and ran from the room, feet pounding on the stone floors. The footsteps echoed through the chambers, the slaps of sandals prompting others to give chase. They were not hunting for him – not yet, but no doubt they would. He ran faster.
A cool breeze whipped his face as he lef the temple stones behind him, fleeing into the city night. Sleepy beggars stirred and watched him with wide, wary eyes, but no one stopped him. Yet. He knew that the gates would be closed through the night, and even though the walls might be easy enough to climb and leap down, the guards would not take kindly to some man in the middle of the night, even one who fled the city. There had to be alternatives.
The docks? He dismissed the idea as quickly as it occurred to him. Even should he sneak onto a ship, the sailors did not take kindly to men appearing in their midst, and it might take days for one to leave. Was there some other, secret way? His run faltered as he realized the temple was far out of sight, and he had no idea where he was going.
The sun was rising.
His heart started beating faster. Perhaps he could swim out the harbor? But they would never let him pass in the light, and he would have to hide for the day. No matter what path he imagined, he would have to get out of the streets. These people did not know his face, but soon there would be the temple knives.
“Priest?” asked a confused voice. He spun, and saw a woman standing in the door of her home. Her shadow started to form on the ground beside her, and he saw a reddish glow above the horizon out of the corner of his eye. He was out of time.
“Do not call me that,” he said, his voice betraying his fear. “I flee the day terrors, Idara.”
The woman regarded him with an even eye. “Come in.” And the sun left his cloak untouched as he slipped into the building.
