The Priesthood

A sphere extends in each direction, and I am chained in the middle, with a hundred chains to keep me still. Ten from each of my limbs; ten from my back and my chest; ten from my stomach and ten from both of my sides; ten from all the directions of my head; ten from my neck. I cannot move. I can only stare and wait. I can only wait for you. And from each direction, like the sphere, they surround me—they surround us.

“Release us…” Can you hear their whispers? Can’t you hear their will as each day goes by? Can’t you sense their despair?

Days go by; so do weeks and months; soon years and decades, yet I remain in this sphere, and I await for you to reach me, for you to reach the truth that I have seen. Can’t you hear my call? Can't you feel their gazes upon us? Don’t you sense what they want to tell us?

“From the shadows, lead us.” To them, you’re like a shepherd—the one promised to them, the one they most prayed for in their times of need, the one who could’ve saved them...

Don’t you remember them? They were once your people as much as mine; you’ve seen what I have; you’ve lived through what I did. But you have yet to see the ashes of our mistakes. How our cities fell, how our people died... You must see; you must learn the truth.

“From the darkness save us.” Can’t you hear their whispers?

Dreams and nightmares—where do they even come from? For such visions haunted his sleep, and from each of them he’d wake up from, the sheets of his bed drenched in cold sweat, and a burning memory of what he had seen laid claim to his thoughts, not allowing him a new entrance to return back to his dreams. Forcing him to get up and write down what he had seen. So he’d write that and a little more, until he’d fall asleep where he sat, only to enter another dream, one similar to the rest, one shrouded by the same whispers as the previous one. He couldn’t run away from them; these dreams they’d wait for him, and they refused to give him the rest he so wished for.

It wasn’t just these dreams that bothered him; it was also the walls around the city; the sight of the figures pierced and stretched on them. He wanted to go closer; he wanted to see them from up close. He wanted to read what the engravings said; he wanted to read through the history of the Atheians. A tome spread on the walls and onto the bodies of those who had given everything, be it out of a desire to do so, out of necessity, or out of punishment, as was suggested by the Council of Many Faces and their threats.

Kanrel needed to know; he needed to learn why these walls came to be. What was their long and complicated history, and who were these ancients that brought out the awe and fear of Y'Kraun when they had observed them... And there seemed to be only one place in this city where he might find answers to these questions he so sought.

The Grand Library. A massive building past which he and Y’Kraun had walked so many times now, and each time they did so, Kanrel would look at it a little longer. Letting his gaze linger and his mind wonder if within he’d find the answers to all the questions he had. Or if, within the walls of that building, there’d be another disappointment waiting for him. Questions left unanswered.

But one day, when they were walking past it, he grabbed Y’Kraun’s arm and forced them to come to a stop, right in front of the massive building. In the middle of a flow of Atheians who went on with their lives, some entering the Grand Library, some walking past it, holding on to their parasols, perhaps bothered by the two that had come to such a sudden halt. Some of them would cast weird looks at them as they went by, their eyes signaling the great bother their antics had caused for those that now had to take two steps left or right to avert the two fools blocking others in the middle of traffic.

“What? Did something happen?” Y’Kraun soon asked, turning around and trying to meet Kanrel’s gaze, but that gaze was directed toward the Grand Library, his solemnly kept on those doors through which a smaller flow of people entered and exited.

“I want to go in.” Kanrel said and then met Y’Kraun’s gaze, “I believe that in a library as great as this, a man can learn all the knowledge he so desires.” He claimed.

Y’Kraun shook his head and smiled. “I understand, and I agree with you, but... You don’t even know how to read our language.”

Kanrel blinked his eyes; his words had stunned him. “Fuck.” He muttered, “How the hell could I forget?” In his eyes, there was a confused expression, one that the Atheian had never seen before.

A wide smile conquered Y’Kraun’s face, and a howling laughter forced itself out of him; soon he wiped tears from his eyes as Kanrel observed the Atheain and his reactions in a state of profound confusion.

“My friend… I had no idea such words could come out of you.” Y’Kraun said, when his spout of laughter had come to an end, and when he had barely claimed back his composure, “You better not utter profanities out loud relating to that in the future; you might leave an Atheain and a few more quite confused with what you want to do with them.”

“But I digress, I am uncertain if we are allowed to seek entrance into the Grand Library even if you were able to read... I’d first have to ask permission, and you might need to have a trade with the scholars there, information for information." Y’Kraun continued, there remained visible joy in his eyes, “But I will see what I can do; I’ll ask permission at the Forum later today, and by tomorrow we will or we will not be allowed entrance to the library.”

Kanrel stared at the Atheian for a while, then asked the one question that firmly held itself at the top of his mind, “What did I say?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what did I say to earn such a reaction?” He asked again.

“Oh… Well, the one word relating to reproduction or perhaps pleasure through such means... You know that word.” Y’Kraun explained, giving glances at the people who walked past him, lest someone hear what he was trying to say.

“I see, but, at the same, it seems that I am not the only one who is quite forgetful of things,” Kanrel said and tapped his left ear and the pearl that was in there.

Y’Kraun seemed confused for a moment then did the same, his bright blue eyes dilating, another convulsion of laughter forcing itself out of the Atheian. “You’re right, it would seem that I am the only person in town who can understand a word you’re saying.” He said after finding his composure.

“Either way, I’d appreciate it if you used other words to express your frustration because that one does throw me off a little,” Y’Kraun asked, and he chuckled as they continued on their way, making their way to another location that they had planned to visit, a small restaurant they had visited before next to it a small bookstore. The bookstore itself was what they wanted to visit, as Kanrel needed more notebooks as he had begun to run out of space; he had, after all, filled three of them since he had entered the city.

But when they sat down to have lunch, it became clear to Kanrel why they had to visit this bookstore for the aforementioned notebooks and other writing material that he might need. Y’Kraun’s eyes wildly looked for something, and as soon as he did find what he was looking for, a slight smile came into bloom on that usually so expressionless face.

In the restaurant, there were many customers; it was lunchtime after all. And many people who worked nearby would come to this very establishment to have a small break from work, eat little, and converse with their co-workers and other Atheians who they might know. Yet all Y’Kraun saw was a specific Atheian, one who served the few tables and the customers that sat around them with the food that they had ordered.

An Atheian not that different looking from all the others that Kanrel had seen; perhaps the only difference was the smile on their face that always seemed to reach those pale blue eyes of hers. Eyes that seemed cold, yet that smile brought so much warmth into them.

The situation was interesting to him; he couldn’t help but wonder how one Atheian might court the other. He was also unsure if Y’Kraun would even try or if he would just look from afar and only interact as a customer with them.

Soon this person approached their table, “Ah, it is you two again; I do remember you and your company; it is quite difficult not to.” Their gaze went between Kanrel and Y'Kraun. “Well then, what might your order be today?” They then asked.

Y’Kraun cleared his throat and then looked at Kanrel, meeting his gaze and perhaps noticing the curious look in those eyes. “Well, I’d like a mushroom soup,” then he raised his hairless brows at Kanrel, who formed a well-practiced smile on his face, and uttered the first word that came to his mind, “Fuck.”

Y’Kraun’s eyes widened, which wasn’t left unnoticed by the waiter, who asked, “What did the Darshi say?”

A momentary bewilderment could be seen by all in his eyes as he soon tried to hide his own reaction with a forced outburst of coughing, “Excuse me.” Y’Kraun muttered, his mind perhaps racing with a hundred different lies he could tell the waiter instead of the truth. Then that bewilderment dissipated, a form of serene focus found its way in, and he smiled, then, with utmost confidence, he asked, “How’s the troglobite today?” He looked at the waiter and then turned his gaze toward Kanrel, whose curious expression had changed at the moment of Y’Kraun’s utterance.

“Very fresh, the best the southern lands can offer, the specific bug farm from where the species of troglobite that we have today is from a smaller village, Wag'Yu; it is perhaps the very best the world has to offer, although the price mirrors this sentiment.” The waiter explained, “How many servings would the Darshi want?” They then asked.

Y’Kraun seemed to contemplate for a moment.

“Please no…” Kanrel begged.

Y’Kraun then smiled, “Two servings would be quite enough.” He then leaned closer, “The Darshi likes it extra fresh.” He then added, his smile filled to the brim with joy that the waiter could not understand; they just stared at him and then at Kanrel and said, “Right, I will bring you your orders right away.” They then left their table, at times throwing glances at them while walking away, on their face an expression of curiosity mixed with utmost confusion.

There came silence between Kanrel and Y’Kraun as they stared at each other. On one’s face there rested an expression of undeniable happiness, a feeling one might have when one succeeds in something so impossible that you can only revel in the beauty of the moment. And on Kanrel’s face there remained only despair.

“How could you do this to me?” He asked with despair seeping into every word that left his lips.

Y’Kraun grinned, “I wonder, what the reason might be, my dear friend, but I suppose it has something to do with reaping the mushrooms that you yourself have sown.”

“Thoughtless actions have consequences, and besides, I’ve heard that when a Darshi feasts on troglobite, he might learn how to behave.”

Kanrel shuddered. “And where might you have heard such lies?”

“Hopefully from your very lips before the day comes to an end—what you say, dear friend?” Y’Kraun asked and smiled as sweetly as he could.

Kanrel shook his head. “You know, when you’re at your lowest, down on your knees, tears flowing down your face, snot running out of your nose. I’ll be there for you, just to kick you when you’re down.” He promised.

Y’Kraun chuckled, “And I wouldn’t expect anything less of you.”

To his surprise, it wasn’t actually as bad as he had thought it to be. What he was served was indeed an alien-looking species of troglobite, one that he couldn’t even name, but even then he tried it, and the texture reminded him of shrimp or prawn; there just seemed to be less to bite. Of course, it tasted like ash, like everything to him does. But one can’t deny that the alien form of the food could make one hesitant to try new things.

They ate and left. Y’Kraun seemed pleased with himself and rather happy, even if his only contact with the waiter, whom Kanrel soon learned was a waitress, was considered an utmost beauty, according to Y’Kraun, who couldn’t help but talk about her. Things like, “Her eyes, they remind of light cast upon the waves of a lake... Her smile is as bright as the brightest crystal. Oh, and her voice is as gentle as the sounds of a dulcimer. And her skin is smooth and perfect, as is the most polished stone in the grandest of palaces, perhaps akin to those that we once built above ground.”

Perhaps this was something he would consider amusing. And at the same time, it reminded him of the time he still read romantic novels at night, fantasizing about love that he might have one day. This memory made him look at the situation and the words of the Atheian differently; the situation really wasn’t that amusing, because to Y’Kraun it was serious. And perhaps Kanrel had indeed gotten what he had deserved. It might be that Y’Kraun’s awkward and shy interactions with the waitress, whose name was U’Ran’Ui, might form into something much more. Perhaps they’d become like Dar and Amer, two friends that Kanrel hadn’t thought about in a long time.

Kanrel bought what he needed in the store next door, and soon they made their way back, Kanrel to his apartment and Y’Kraun to the Forum, keeping the promise that he had made.

At his apartment, Kanrel opened up his new notebook and wrote a few lines about the interaction he had had with Y’Kraun, this waitress that had caught the Atheians eye, and even the words that he had used to describe her to him. And when he was done with that, he finally wrote about more pressing issues...

How does one learn a new language? He needed to learn it to be able to read any of the books or whatever there might be within the Great Library. He wouldn’t want someone else to read it for him, not when they could so easily alter the truth. Not to mention that some meaning might be lost when not read as it is. A translation from one culture and context to another could never be perfect if it were directly translated. Nuance was easily lost... It was now obvious that he would need a tutor to teach him not only the written language of the Atheians but the spoken one as well.

He shouldn’t have to be so dependent on Y’Kraun, even if it were his job to help Kanrel around, and even if they were friends.

The next morrow they met at the restaurant facing Kanrel’s apartment. They had breakfast, and afterward, Y’Kraun finally shared the edict that he had received from the Forum.

“We are allowed entrance at the Grand Library, but as I had expected, you will be expected to go by the whims of the scholars there... And when it comes to reading, someone there will read out loud for you.”

“This person will make sure that you have access to everything that you might want to learn, but depending on the value of the information that you learn, you might have to later provide your services to them again," Y’Kraun explained, in his voice there was some apprehension, yet past that uneasiness, a sense of excitement could be observed. After all, to Y’Kraun, this was like a dream come true...

Kanrel thought for a moment, “Very well, I suppose I must, for now, trust these scholars—besides, it is not like they would want to dissect me, right?” He asked.

Y’Kraun formed a slight smile. “We will see... We will see...”

Kanrel scoffed at the Atheian's teasing, yet within he couldn’t help but hold worry for what they might want in trade from him. There was only so much that he could offer to these, sometimes, far too curious people. And he wondered, just how far could he go in giving them what they wanted. What were things that were “out of line” or “too far?”

They made their way toward the Grand Library at last, such worries filling his mind to the brim. So pressing were these thoughts that he lost the sense of time and location, so pressing were they, that he had not realized that they soon stood before the very thing he had so solemnly wanted to enter.

The large doors before him are open and ready to accept him. Within, possibly, the answers he most sought to learn. Ancient lore and history which could give him the perception he needed to understand, not only the dreams that haunted him but also the walls that surrounded them and the shadows that lay past those walls...

He swallowed in anticipation and entered through the open doors with an open mind, one not entirely aware of what he might have to give this time, to gain knowledge or power, as the members of the Grand Library described it to be.