***
My core is bluish-red and still slightly sore, but it doesn't really hurt like it did the first few days.
My torn coat, and the bruise, clearly visible in the shower caverns, required some imaginative explaining on my part, so I told everyone how I fell down the stairs. I really need to work on my ability to spin a tale. Being truthful would give birth to questions I don't wish to answer.
Our current teacher is not a grandmaster but a High Priestess.
The size of her thick pointy triquetra and long iron chain makes me feel almost sorry for her neck. I'm sure beyond doubt, If I gave voice to such thoughts Mother would appear out of nowhere, possibly riding a Wraith, to chide and strike me for such blasphemy.
The triquetra itself is bulky, forged out of finger-thick iron, its curvy lines form a twisting, flowing shape.
Her draping brown robe has a red and blue intertwining trim, denoting her status.
Blessedly, the priestess' lecture is near its end. Conforming to the ways of her ilk, she spent much of the class preaching about piety and chastity. I'd rather read boring philosophical works again than listen to her.
''At first, there was only Goddess, and the Void,'' the High Priestess says.
''In this very beginning of everything, from a shred of her divine bones, Goddess made a daughter.
''Then, from a drop of her heavenly blood, Allmother made another, her second daughter.
''Goddess made the world.
''But it was veiled in darkness so the First Daughter filled it with light, brighter and purer than any that exists today. And the world was beautiful. But something was missing. Someone needed to admire all this beauty. The Second Daughter gave it life.
''Our world was Empyrean in which humanity prospered.
''It is said our kind once had rivers of honey and mountains of cheese.
''Regrettably, it was not to last.
''The ways of man grew astray and Goddess sent a blue demon of hate whose legions culled all those considered to be wicked and unworthy.
''Our kind lost its way. We worshiped flesh more than the divine and thus the Goddess punished the wicked with pestilence, famine, and the blue demon, released from the Void's deepest pits.
''He slew men in their hundreds, with one cleave of his longsword, slicing alamarium armor and flesh as if through air. The blade, just like its wielder, made of Void's foul essence.
''Nothing could harm him. Nothing.
''The true light of the world was gone and the demon with his legions beyond number fed on the darkness, continuing to cut down nine of ten men, women, and children. But the Goddess, in her infinite mercy, granted salvation to our holy ancestors. The chosen ones.
''Allmother took pity on our holy ancestors, who, led by the Prophet, sailed to our city, our piece of Empyrean in the Wastes. This was a time Alldora's rage was less.
''We must never fall again. We must abhor the sins of...''
Sound of the handbell greets my ears first. Moments later, thirteen girls and twelve boys rise as though our seats had suddenly caught on fire.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Cycle: Genesis
Fantasy-Anaya- I did not choose this. They say it is a blessing. Then why do I feel cursed? I miss my parents. I miss my old bed. I miss the blaze of Sol. Despite the decadent lights, this will always be a Void-like place of caverns and corridors. The Acad...
