The Lust of Horns

EROH VI

I'd worn my own leathered horn helm since I was young. When first I'd gotten it, the leather was as big and firm as my hunting leathers, but that was before I'd grown into it. Now I struggled to put it on, even though it'd become flexible in its many uses. Today it'd be thrown to the flames, and I'd gain my true horns.

Father and I took the last step together. The drums stopped. We halted, keeping our eyes up until the elders motioned us to resume. This gave me the chance to marvel at the temple. The structure sat rounded like a helm. Fitted with evenly spaced, bowed beams, and patterned wooden planks that drove into the ground. Two leafless trees sprouted from the eastern and western side of the roof. Their limbs pointed, reaching up towards the horned moon, fierce as cervitaur antlers. When I was young, I used to look upon the temple imaging what secrets rested inside. Today was the day I'd find out.

A man pulled aside the hide curtain hanging at the massive arched doorway. A large man, whose presence was as sharp as the splintered horns upon his head. Unlike the common folk, his robe was larger and made of a thinner hide, extending beyond his feet and dragging behind him. He waved a glowing red horned scepter, creating a trail of smoke around him. It didn't take long for the gentle winds to carry the earthy fragrance into my nostrils. It burned and made my nose itch, prompting me to ease it with the swipe of a finger. I instead ignored the feeling and watched the high elders' beastly dance. When he'd finished the itch subsided. The Elder raised a hand, holding high his index and pinky fingers; the horned hand.

I took a step towards the temple alone. For a moment I wanted to halt. Maybe I'd moved too soon? No. Father gave me simple instructions that I was to move when the high elder rose his hand. But why hadn't father accompanied me? I was quick to realize that I was to become a man, and no man needed the company of another. Not even the Chief ... Not even my Lord father. But then why did I suddenly feel more afraid?

The great Temple of Harr grew with the elder standing guard. I had never been this close before, and only then, did I realize how massive the structure was. It rose and rose and rose like a mountain, eerie and dark, lit by distant flames and cloaked in silent shadows. For so long I wanted to know the secret of what rested inside, but now all I wanted was to retreat back to the safety of my father. I allowed the thought to linger only for a step, then pushed it from my head, reminding myself that I was to become a man ... and men do not run.

I halted in front of the high elder. He gave me a long, studying gaze, seeming to decide if I was worthy of coming inside. I must've passed his inspection. The high elder showered me in the smoke of the burning scepter. The earthy fragrance burned and tickled my nostrils. I tried to hold back my irritable throat and nose, and for a time succeeded, but eventually my body gave in, causing me to hack and sneeze. The Elder stood oddly unsurprised. Maybe I was meant to do so?

"Rid away the evil spirits that may try to possess this boy while in his weakened state." The elder said in a tone low enough to reach the Horn Gods. I shivered, sneezed, and then coughed. My body seemed lighter, like an unseen force lifted. I wondered if there was a spirit who'd been there. Elior perhaps? Doubtful. His presence would be a blessing. The High Elder lifted the deer hide curtain and waved a hand. "You may proceed."

I looked forward, my eyes dilating to the darkness inside. I hesitated, then took a step forward. The curtain fell behind me and all was black. Outside, the drums rumbled melodically. Inside, a tune of whistling wind caught my ears. Reaching out my hands, I did my best to navigate my way while blind, following the tune to where it may lead me. I hoped that wouldn't be to an ill fate.

Nervous step after nervous step, I conquered the darkness, breathing steadily, tasting the air's thickness on my tongue. The Temple was even larger than I'd imagined as a boy, and I had a big imagination. Or maybe it was the darkness and the tune playing tricks on my mind. A fresh scent in the air, one less hot and harsh, like sweet cinnamon and dried oranges, gave me a courageous high.