|
|
This time I was escorted to a grand, temple-like edifice. We climbed the many steps before the temple and Kellador knelt on the topmost landing, murmuring a soft prayer to the twin Tyberan Gods; Bast and Sekhmet. I watched him in fascination and was strangely compelled to do the same. I knelt bowing my head, making my long, brown hair fall over my shoulders.Brightest Ones, I prayed, Please keep my friends safe. Give Quinn and Dark a long, happy life together. Keep Krolaun out of mischief. Lend Cal the patience to deal with them all.
I rose, absently pushing my hair back over my shoulder. I looked at Kellador, "Well," I said softly, "Let's end this..."
We entered the temple and Kellador stood by the door, motioning for me to continue on alone. Pausing a moment to gather what was left of my tattered dignity, I walked down the aisle of the temple. As I walked, I observed. At the end of the walkway was a raised dias. On this dias stood the High Priest, murmuring some strange incantation as he waved his hand over a cloth-covered slab of marble.
I stopped before the dias, carefully watching the Priest. He then turned to me, "Lie upon the altar, my child."
I stepped up to the marble slab; it was easily two feet longer than I was tall. I hefted myself up onto it and laid down upon the cold stone. The cloth beneath me was just as cold and I fought the urge to shiver. I stared up as the Priest waved his hands over me. Purposefully, he placed a thin, cold hand upon my forehead.
"This is the Cleansing of Spirit," he murmured.
I swallowed against the ball of fear forming in the back of my throat. I stared up at him; his mint green eyes stared out from his silver-grey visage. As the hand on my forehead began to glow, he spoke.
"Bast! Sekhmet! Mighty Twinstars of our Heavens, hear me!"
I could feel a great pressure within me as he spoke. My breathing began to get increasingly more difficult.
"Take this, and Exile of Your Adoring Nation, and cast her from the Light of Your Shining Eyes!"
There was a gut-wrenching, heart-twisting sensation as some part within me was ripped away. I gasped, tears immediately coming to my eyes. The priest's hand wandered from my forehead to my neck. He unclasped the Amulet and the metal slid away from my skin.
"Retake Your Blessing, oh Bast!" the priest demanded as he raised the Amulet over his head.
A peal of thunder roared as a bolt of lightning struck the jewelry. In a brilliant flash of light, the priest's hands were empty.
As the Amulet vanished, I was assaulted by more of those gut-rending sensations. The realization dawned on me...No, not gut-wrenching. . .soul-shredding.
"Bring forth the Containment Collar," the Priest commanded.
Two alcolytes brought forth a ring of steel, clasping it around my neck. It was heavy, but not as heavy as the weight in my soul.
"Sekhmet!" the Priest cried, waving his hands like a lunatic, "Take back from this Exile Your Devine Blessing!"
I began to writhe as I was overcome by more of those agonizing sensations. It became more and more excruciating until I was forced to curl up in a fetal position, moaning in anguish. There was a feeling of something brutally and mercilessly being torn out, leaving me panting and sweating.
The sense of loss I felt at that moment was greater than anything I'd ever known. More than when the Tyberans had slain Kev right before my eyes. More than when I'd been exiled. Even more than when I'd left the Green Dragon Inn on this journey.
The Green Dragon Inn...
My friends...
Oh, Gods...
But there were no Gods listening, nor would there ever be again for me. I'd been abandoned by the last vestige of what I was. No longer could I even remotely be considered Tyberan. No more.
I did not even notice when the Priest relieved me of the Dagger of Mystics. I did not notice when they clasped the gold, burning bracers on my wrists. I did not notice; I did not care. All that I knew was that there was now a gaping hole in my soul where the Light of the Bright Ones had once rested.
I could not help myself; exhaustion, agony, and defeat got the better of me, and a tear rolled down my cheek, followed by another...then twenty. My whole body was wracked by sobs. I didn't care aobut the pain anymore. Defeat was a bitter taste in my mouth, but I accepted it dismally. At least with my execution my pain would end and I would be at peace.
"Take her away," the Priest commanded, his voice tainted with his disgust, "She is a weakling and nothing more than common trash. Let her taint the Shrine of the Twinstars no more."
Kellador spared the Priest an unsavory glance as he stepped forward and lifted me from the altar. My eyes stared blankly into nothingness as he carried me out. He looked at me, concern filling his blazing eyes, "Don't give up now, Katja..."
I wanted nothing more than to curl up and slip into oblivion, but thrice times tenfold cursed Kellador would not let me. He kept shaking me, keeping me conscious. We reached my cell sooner than I expected and I smiled slightly at the thought of finally being able to rest.
Kellador rattled me fiercely, softly muttering, "Hurry up, Olan, or she won't last..."
Olan?
I dimly registered the name, but I didn't have it in me to care anymore. I curled up resignedly on my pallet, waiting for Death to come for me...
Table of Contents
© 1999 E. Angeli Mansfield