A Dream of the Heaven

Chapter 13 (Part 1 of 2)

Chapter 13

Imlon

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Sat in the pew, Imlon gritted his teeth.  His clasped hands shook in his lap.

“But the pursuit of learning must be the pursuit of wisdom,” proclaimed the preacher to the black-robed congregation in the Exodus chapel, “Though it is our purpose within these walls to seek out knowledge, we must seek it so as to better ourselves and thus to better God’s work in the world, never to slake our own pride in our intellect; to make known the glory of God in the universe, not to falsely debase his works, denying his creation for the succour of our own vanity.  For one is as the love of a husband for his bride, pure and sacred, that draws us closer to our union with God; but the other is as lust with the whore, base and profane, that ever doth distance us from heaven.”

Though he sat as one scholar among many, hardly distinguishable from those around him, everyone present knew precisely which of their number the preacher was addressing.  Imlon stared at the floor, every muscle in his body tightening, holding his tongue in his teeth as he felt himself being buried under the weight of the glares on the back of his head.  Those in front of him sat almost perfectly still, but every now and then a slight turn of the head, a lightning glance behind, betrayed their thought.  His skull felt like it would burst.

The moment the service finished, he rose, forced his way out of the pew and marched for the door, scattering to one side all those in his way.  Whispers followed him, even when he was well out of earshot.  They only ceased when he slammed shut the door to his chambers.  He threw himself into a chair, air seething in and out of his nostrils as he patted the table with his hand.  A shot of hot violence seized his arm: he smashed the wood with his fist, making the glass and paper tremble.

There was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” cried Imlon, reaching for parchment and ink.  Temith, the theologian, slowly peered in.  “Come in, get inside,” continued Imlon.  “I’m sorry you had to witness that.  Of all the services to come to, you get the worst.”

He set to writing the letter: ‘Pyros, greeting...’

“I believe that our purpose is to unite this world with heaven,” said the astronomer as he wrote.  “I believe that the Winged God brought our people out of chains to a land of plenty.  I believe in one god, no others, I believe that He constructed the universe and holds all power and truth.  Then how can that priest be so different to me?”  He looked Temith in the eye.  “You’d say our religion is the same, wouldn’t you?”

The Erluethan paused.  “Even the simplest idea is complicated when divinity is introduced.  I still thank you for inviting me.  It was fascinating.  I understand if that is no consolation.”

“I’m glad,” said Imlon, putting down his quill and slumping into the back of his chair.  He wiped a hand across his aching face.  “You shouldn’t come any more.  You shouldn’t be seen to associate with me.  It’ll do you no good.”

“That is a sad thing,” said Temith.  “Though I mean to leave the city soon regardless.”

“Oh, it’s well for you, then.  Homeward bound?”

“Yes.  I travelled in Emmares for some weeks prior to my time here, learnt all that I could about the...” Temith’s phrase dribbled away, “...yes.  I should leave you to your letters.”

As Temith turned, there was another tap on the door.  “Imlon?” said a muffled voice.  “Imlon?”

“Come in!”