The Withering Sword

Chapter 15: Soap

EBEYA

Amrato-feg, capital city of Gyoto

Ebeya’s father made the family rise before dawn every Monday to go to the temple. They left the imperial palace through the servants’ exit and then shuffled, quiet and sleepy, through the streets, where they joined a thin but steady trickle of believers heading the same way. The temple rose several blocks from the palace, a majestic construction of timber and stone, green and gold. Golden statues grasped the corners of the roof, their ugly faces protruding out over the dimly-lit street.

The temple had seen better times. Some of the green paint had started peeling off the wood, and a few of the smaller stones had fallen out of the façade.

“I heard that the Faith built this temple in the time of the previous dynasty,” said Ebeya importantly as they approached. “Back then, emperors bribed the Faith in exchange for support. But when the empress’ father took control and started the Myagadhar Dynasty, he wouldn’t pay bribes. So the Faith rose up in rebellion, and the emperor destroyed most of the temples. This is one of the few that still stand.”

Her father didn’t answer. Neither her sisters nor her brother appeared to be listening, either, but Ebeya continued.

“The empress doesn’t think much of the Faith. She thinks it’s a bunch of superstition.”

“Would you hush?” said her older sister, Woyo.

“She says the Faith has little to teach us about the modern world. She says it’s only simple minds that create a deity to fulfill―”

“Be quiet,” said her father. “Have more respect.”

“But it’s the empress who said it.” They stepped over the threshold into the wide open area where the rest of the believers congregated, facing an empty plinth. Statues of idols and heroes, the gold chipping off of their surface, stood in niches set into the walls at intervals. It smelled strongly of incense.

Her father grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side of the great double doors, clearing the way in. “I know you admire the empress, girl, but she’s just a woman. You’re in the presence of God here.”

Ebeya’s mouth twisted sourly. “Yes, Father.”

“I will not speak against the empress. She took us in and gave us good work. But anyone who turns their back on God will not end well. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good.” He released her and they went to join her brother and sisters. Woyo scowled at Ebeya, as if she needed more scolding. Ebeya wanted to stick out her tongue at her sister, but she knew that was childish. She was fourteen years old and no child.

The priest walked up onto the plinth and the crowd quieted. He had an old face like wrinkled paper and a dusting of silver in his black hair, and he spoke in a soft voice that often lulled Ebeya to sleep. He told them of an old hero from a long time ago who was so wonderful that when he died in service of his righteous king, his soul joined God in the Peaceful Lands. Then he spoke of the legend of the Twin Stars. Ebeya already knew the story. The wicked wife of an emperor from a long time ago had taken a lover, and when the emperor had found out, he’d had both the empress and her lover killed. The souls of those two lovers still wondered endlessly in the Void, according to the priest, because they were so full of hatred and lust that they had wasted every reincarnation since then in seeking revenge.

“We must choose the path of righteousness and godliness,” said the priest. “We are God’s children, and God guides us with infinite patience toward Its holiness, but It cannot cleanse the sin from our souls. We must accomplish that task ourselves.”