Chapter 3
Donovan slowly awoke from his cold, stiff bed. During the previous night it had begun to rain heavily upon the entire town. Rainwater had begun to seep into the roofing above the students' heads. Small raindrops fell upon them as they slept, making the night wet and uncomfortable. Donovan was unused to the cold living quarters of the church domiciles. His bones were chilled and his muscles trembled in an attempt to stay warm. He missed the warm nights and pleasant smells of his bakery home. He also missed waking up with his family and talking with them each day.
Donovan didn't sleep well that night, or any night in the barracks for that matter. In the morning when they all arrived at the front of the training grounds for roll call, he was noticeably tired. Initially around twenty other young men and women had decided to become part of the church guard when spring had finally arrived. After two months of training, only five of them remained with Donovan being the youngest and the oldest being seventeen. The Church preferred to train their recruits at an early age, even if they were too young to hold a traditional job. A guard member with more years of experience was always of better use for the cause than those drafted directly into the Holy Protectorate. Including the five new recruits, the entire group being taught in the training sessions numbered fifteen.
The group had lived on the church grounds for the past two months and were rarely given time to return home for visits. Both those wishing to become warriors as well as those desiring to become sages of magic trained under the same sessions together. The training was fairly grueling, but in the end, members of the Protectorate were some of the finest warriors in the land. A strong pairing of the magic of their faith with the detailed fighting maneuvers of the guard was an impressive combination. Only focusing on one type of combat was detriment in the eyes of the parish. A warrior without a strong talent for the magic arts was as about as useful to the Church as a wizard without the knowledge to defend themselves in a hand-to-hand fight.
The starting lesson for today was a lecture from the high priest of the town, Darria. Having already learned some fundamental basics of combat during their initial time with the Church, this was their first chance to learn more about the bases of their religion from the highest member of their local parish. After attendance was counted by their trainers, the students were moved into a small lecture hall.
Donovan had seen Darria many times before during regular Church services. Usually his family would sit in the pews located in the rear of the chapel. Today he was able to get a closer look at the man who governed the actions of the entire town of Gestalt.
Instead of his formal white robes, today the high priest wore a simpler tunic. It was dyed ruby-red and trailed down his legs like a thin sheet. The outfit had intricate embroidery that traced his wide shoulders. A similarly designed knotted belt was tied around his waist; from which several pouches and purses dangled. He did not carry his long staff today and Donovan was able to get a better view of the priest's long burgundy mane. The hair was of an oddly colored hue, and the single slick mass trailed halfway down his back. His eyes were of a similar dark color, and upon the man's face lay an expression of both happiness as well as one of restraint. Even though the priest appeared to be fairly young for a high priest, he did seem to have traits upon his brow and cheeks like those of someone much older. Darria's look and wardrobe gave off an undeniable aura of mystique.
"Good morning young pupils, my name as you may know is Darria. I am the head priest of this institution, and the highest level sage of this town. As you have found out over these past few months, life in the Church is by no means easy. Our lives are destined to be wrought with difficulty, but we are here because we owe our very souls to the Lord and to Heaven above. It is with their blessing that we may live upon this world.
"We exist upon this plane to worship the Heavens and to smite all the entities of evil in the world. Evil exists in many forms. The most obvious form of that evil being those that we classify as Pontia. Pontian creatures are born of the very essence of evil. However, Pontia are not the only sources of evil.
"As you will come to learn, man can be and often is evil. You will also find that creatures of the wild can and do succumb to the motions of evil. Even Nature herself has been found to be a cause of evil. It is from this evil that surrounds our world that we must protect the people of the land. It is our holy duty to serve and protect our people from tyranny. We must be the ones to punish that which is evil and eradicate it from our very lives.
"It is only us, those of the Cloth that can send evil to where it may not return. It was the Heavens themselves that gave us the power, as well as the will, to perform these acts."
Darria reached into a satchel from around his waist. From it he pulled an orange object about half the size of a chicken egg. It had a glossy smooth exterior and a cloudy center. It glowed and pulsed as if fire itself could be found within. He held the object between his forefinger and thumb, and raised it into the air.
"Can any of you tell me what this is?" he asked.
One of the older trainees, in his third year of training, spoke the answer. "It is an Ifriit seed."
"Correct. What you see here in my hands young ones contains the key to defeating evil. It is an Ifriit seed from the Ifriit plant. The Ifriit was given to us directly from Heaven as a means to defend ourselves from the Pontia. It is the nectar of this seed that we use to burn and destroy the Pontian creatures to ash and cinder. It has a power so strong that the Pontia simply cease to be upon contact!
"The nectar of the seed is also a great source of healing. Anyone, even if on the brink of their death, can be saved by a single drop of essence from the Ifriit.
"The existence of a single seed within a furlong can also raise the morale of an entire battalion threefold!
"The Ifriit is the most holy of powers. This magical thing, granted to us directly by our Heavenly masters, is the greatest gift ever to be bestowed upon our people.
"That power, with its wondrous benefits, sadly is not limitless. An Ifriit plant blossoms with four invaluable seeds but once a season. Adding to this fact, we have but two plants within the confines of this city. It is a gift so precious that other villages may be lucky as to have five to ten plants within their walls at the most.
"It is due to this rarity that we must not use haste and squander their power. Each seed is to be treasured more than gold or gems, and because of this each precious plant must be defended at all costs!"
Darria then placed the jelly-like seed back into its protective pouch.
"As you will learn during your studies, while the Ifriit is our most powerful tool it is not our sole source of power. We have also been blessed by the teachings of Heaven, with all of its mystic, magical enchantments. Magic, as a few of you may have seen with your own eyes, is as useful a weapon as a sword or bow. In fact, the magic based around the foundations of our faith can be more potent than an entire army!
"Today I will give most of you your first experience to the scope of this power. Please rejoin me outside so that I may show you."
The recruits filed out of the building and stood outside the entrance in a single line. The high priest walked in front of the crowd, and faced away from the group. Murmuring could be heard throughout the line. Several of the students had seen this demonstration before and smirked at the thought. They grinned slightly because they knew the others had no idea of what was about to come.
Across the field several hundred paces from their current position stood several younger sages. Each of them was holding fowl within their arms; five of them to be exact. The birds they were holding were simple roosters, old in age, and slow in their step. The mages placed the birds upon the ground, which then began to strut about.
Darria placed his index fingers alongside his temples, and closed his eyes. With a spiraling motion, he drew circles into the air that continually grew in size. As he drew in the air, flame appeared to gather at his fingertips. Stronger and stronger the fires grew. With a final push, he pointed his flaming hands down the field.
Almost instantaneously, five orbs of fire leapt from his hands and made arcing, self-directing paths towards each of the roosters. Each of them rocketed down the field; one of missiles redirected its path, nearly missing one of the younger sages. With a simple count of five spoken aloud by the priest, one by one the balls of magic hit each rooster one after the other. Each rooster appeared to detonate on contact with a popping sound, a flash of flame, and then the distinct smell of charred flesh. Miscellaneous feathers floated towards the ground.
He turned to face the group of recruits. Half of them stood there with eyes wide and pulses racing. They had known that magic existed in the world just as Darria had said, but seeing it in action, seeing it almost have intelligence in its actions stunned them.
"This is just an example of the type of power that we will attempt to teach you here at this academy," he said rather bluntly. "Magic such as this, balanced with basics of combat, will lead us all on the path of righteousness. Should you focus your energies to the fullest while here at our Church, you will become the mightiest of the mighty.
"We are the Holy Protectorate, and this is our calling."
Continue to Chapter 3 - continued
Donovan didn't sleep well that night, or any night in the barracks for that matter. In the morning when they all arrived at the front of the training grounds for roll call, he was noticeably tired. Initially around twenty other young men and women had decided to become part of the church guard when spring had finally arrived. After two months of training, only five of them remained with Donovan being the youngest and the oldest being seventeen. The Church preferred to train their recruits at an early age, even if they were too young to hold a traditional job. A guard member with more years of experience was always of better use for the cause than those drafted directly into the Holy Protectorate. Including the five new recruits, the entire group being taught in the training sessions numbered fifteen.
The group had lived on the church grounds for the past two months and were rarely given time to return home for visits. Both those wishing to become warriors as well as those desiring to become sages of magic trained under the same sessions together. The training was fairly grueling, but in the end, members of the Protectorate were some of the finest warriors in the land. A strong pairing of the magic of their faith with the detailed fighting maneuvers of the guard was an impressive combination. Only focusing on one type of combat was detriment in the eyes of the parish. A warrior without a strong talent for the magic arts was as about as useful to the Church as a wizard without the knowledge to defend themselves in a hand-to-hand fight.
The starting lesson for today was a lecture from the high priest of the town, Darria. Having already learned some fundamental basics of combat during their initial time with the Church, this was their first chance to learn more about the bases of their religion from the highest member of their local parish. After attendance was counted by their trainers, the students were moved into a small lecture hall.
Donovan had seen Darria many times before during regular Church services. Usually his family would sit in the pews located in the rear of the chapel. Today he was able to get a closer look at the man who governed the actions of the entire town of Gestalt.
Instead of his formal white robes, today the high priest wore a simpler tunic. It was dyed ruby-red and trailed down his legs like a thin sheet. The outfit had intricate embroidery that traced his wide shoulders. A similarly designed knotted belt was tied around his waist; from which several pouches and purses dangled. He did not carry his long staff today and Donovan was able to get a better view of the priest's long burgundy mane. The hair was of an oddly colored hue, and the single slick mass trailed halfway down his back. His eyes were of a similar dark color, and upon the man's face lay an expression of both happiness as well as one of restraint. Even though the priest appeared to be fairly young for a high priest, he did seem to have traits upon his brow and cheeks like those of someone much older. Darria's look and wardrobe gave off an undeniable aura of mystique.
"Good morning young pupils, my name as you may know is Darria. I am the head priest of this institution, and the highest level sage of this town. As you have found out over these past few months, life in the Church is by no means easy. Our lives are destined to be wrought with difficulty, but we are here because we owe our very souls to the Lord and to Heaven above. It is with their blessing that we may live upon this world.
"We exist upon this plane to worship the Heavens and to smite all the entities of evil in the world. Evil exists in many forms. The most obvious form of that evil being those that we classify as Pontia. Pontian creatures are born of the very essence of evil. However, Pontia are not the only sources of evil.
"As you will come to learn, man can be and often is evil. You will also find that creatures of the wild can and do succumb to the motions of evil. Even Nature herself has been found to be a cause of evil. It is from this evil that surrounds our world that we must protect the people of the land. It is our holy duty to serve and protect our people from tyranny. We must be the ones to punish that which is evil and eradicate it from our very lives.
"It is only us, those of the Cloth that can send evil to where it may not return. It was the Heavens themselves that gave us the power, as well as the will, to perform these acts."
Darria reached into a satchel from around his waist. From it he pulled an orange object about half the size of a chicken egg. It had a glossy smooth exterior and a cloudy center. It glowed and pulsed as if fire itself could be found within. He held the object between his forefinger and thumb, and raised it into the air.
"Can any of you tell me what this is?" he asked.
One of the older trainees, in his third year of training, spoke the answer. "It is an Ifriit seed."
"Correct. What you see here in my hands young ones contains the key to defeating evil. It is an Ifriit seed from the Ifriit plant. The Ifriit was given to us directly from Heaven as a means to defend ourselves from the Pontia. It is the nectar of this seed that we use to burn and destroy the Pontian creatures to ash and cinder. It has a power so strong that the Pontia simply cease to be upon contact!
"The nectar of the seed is also a great source of healing. Anyone, even if on the brink of their death, can be saved by a single drop of essence from the Ifriit.
"The existence of a single seed within a furlong can also raise the morale of an entire battalion threefold!
"The Ifriit is the most holy of powers. This magical thing, granted to us directly by our Heavenly masters, is the greatest gift ever to be bestowed upon our people.
"That power, with its wondrous benefits, sadly is not limitless. An Ifriit plant blossoms with four invaluable seeds but once a season. Adding to this fact, we have but two plants within the confines of this city. It is a gift so precious that other villages may be lucky as to have five to ten plants within their walls at the most.
"It is due to this rarity that we must not use haste and squander their power. Each seed is to be treasured more than gold or gems, and because of this each precious plant must be defended at all costs!"
Darria then placed the jelly-like seed back into its protective pouch.
"As you will learn during your studies, while the Ifriit is our most powerful tool it is not our sole source of power. We have also been blessed by the teachings of Heaven, with all of its mystic, magical enchantments. Magic, as a few of you may have seen with your own eyes, is as useful a weapon as a sword or bow. In fact, the magic based around the foundations of our faith can be more potent than an entire army!
"Today I will give most of you your first experience to the scope of this power. Please rejoin me outside so that I may show you."
The recruits filed out of the building and stood outside the entrance in a single line. The high priest walked in front of the crowd, and faced away from the group. Murmuring could be heard throughout the line. Several of the students had seen this demonstration before and smirked at the thought. They grinned slightly because they knew the others had no idea of what was about to come.
Across the field several hundred paces from their current position stood several younger sages. Each of them was holding fowl within their arms; five of them to be exact. The birds they were holding were simple roosters, old in age, and slow in their step. The mages placed the birds upon the ground, which then began to strut about.
Darria placed his index fingers alongside his temples, and closed his eyes. With a spiraling motion, he drew circles into the air that continually grew in size. As he drew in the air, flame appeared to gather at his fingertips. Stronger and stronger the fires grew. With a final push, he pointed his flaming hands down the field.
Almost instantaneously, five orbs of fire leapt from his hands and made arcing, self-directing paths towards each of the roosters. Each of them rocketed down the field; one of missiles redirected its path, nearly missing one of the younger sages. With a simple count of five spoken aloud by the priest, one by one the balls of magic hit each rooster one after the other. Each rooster appeared to detonate on contact with a popping sound, a flash of flame, and then the distinct smell of charred flesh. Miscellaneous feathers floated towards the ground.
He turned to face the group of recruits. Half of them stood there with eyes wide and pulses racing. They had known that magic existed in the world just as Darria had said, but seeing it in action, seeing it almost have intelligence in its actions stunned them.
"This is just an example of the type of power that we will attempt to teach you here at this academy," he said rather bluntly. "Magic such as this, balanced with basics of combat, will lead us all on the path of righteousness. Should you focus your energies to the fullest while here at our Church, you will become the mightiest of the mighty.
"We are the Holy Protectorate, and this is our calling."
Continue to Chapter 3 - continued
posted by The Floating Cat @ 10:21 PM
1 Comments:
At 1:30 PM,
American Blogger said…
For whatever reason the priests name seemed female to me. I thought it was a mistake when i saw you refer to it as a he. I liked the foreshadowing about even humans could be evil, and the setup with the magical and limited fruit. Somewhere down the line it wouldnt surprise me to see donovan eating it with his bread or something :)
Priests do target practice on roosters? Who is ruuning the church, eric?
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