15: Dramatic Anointing Ceremonies, Questionable Credentials, and Embracing Destinies
It's time.
Solenn had been waiting for this her entire life, and yet somehow, the moment was lost on her. She couldn't speak for others, but personally, she felt as if a blanket of calmness had descended over her, protecting her against the attack of fear, doubt and anxiety.
Which was nothing short of a miracle, considering that she had every reason to be afraid.
She was, after all, going to be anointed as one of the seven legendary Champions chosen by the Triune God to defend Eden and to help save the Worlds from evil. But that was a fancy way of saying it.
She was going to war, is all. Piece of cake.
She wasn't afraid at all. In her mind, she could hear Samson's voice, stern but firm.
There is no room for fear in a Guardian's heart.
Solenn examined her heart and found no traces of fear. There wasn't an ounce of anxiety, no shred of doubt. For someone who was going to march towards probable death, she was being perfectly cool about it. Was this the effect of the many hours of meditation Samson had imposed on them? Probably.
Solenn would even bet all the rons in her bank account that Samson was more nervous than she was. What a stage dad, she said, trying hard not to roll her eyes. To the others, he might seem the calm, composed and collected commander that everyone knew him to be, but Solenn knew that he was on the edge of his nerves. She could tell by the hard set of his jaw, the relentless ticking of his left eyebrow, and the tension on his shoulders. Only one who was well versed in Samson-speak could tell.
Solenn tore her eyes away from Samson and studied the vast room. The Chamber of Champions was bereft of people save for the High Priest that would officiate the ceremony, the Judges, and of course, the Candidates. There were two Councilmen present - that aloof Grimald and his BFF Toran - as witnesses, but other than that, no one else was allowed inside.
The Anointing Ceremony was too sacred an event for it to be made a public exhibition of sorts.
Being in the Chamber felt like floating above the clouds. Located in the penthouse of Tower Faith, its glass walls gave the occupants a magnificent view of Cielos and the vast lands and seas surrounding it. Far beyond, the earth, the sea and the sky stretched on, until Solenn couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. The rays of the sun were broken by the fractals in the glass walls, sending a burst of brilliant colors dancing on the Chamber's marble floors.
Solenn wondered for a moment if heaven was as bare as this room.
There was only an ivory basin floating - how was that possible? - on a rectangular pool in the middle of the room. All the Candidates stood at the edge of the pool. Solenn wanted to peek into the waters to find out how deep it was, but she held her ground.
It wouldn't do much good to fidget in front of the High Priest, especially since she was pretty notorious for participating in fights, in worship rallies and Masses. She knew the High Priest had no power revoking her title as Candidate, but she wasn't too sure. She didn't pay much attention in Religion classes to find out. Better if she would stay on her best behavior.
But when the High Priest raised his hand and opened his mouth to speak, all sense of calm and coolness deserted Solenn like a murder of crows taking flight at first sight of the sun.
Oh God, it's time. Her hand itched to reach for Solomon's, but they were a few feet apart.
"Candidates, it is time," the High Priest said, his voice as old and ancient as the years he had lived. He regaled them all with a profound look, and took all of Solenn's discipline not to wither under his stare. "The battle between the forces of Light and the forces of Darkness have never ceased, but it is only in times of great danger that the need for Champions arises."
Why are old people so fond of dramatics? Solenn wondered. "You will be baptized in spirit, oil and water."
Spirit? How is that even possible?
"Spirit, as the Holy Ghost descends to give you His blessing. Holy oil, to set you apart as the chosen ones. Water, the symbol of both life and death. As you die unto your old lives, you shall rise to become the defenders of this world." The High Priest stood in front of the seven Candidates, holding a small cup of oil. "Lay your hands and receive the anointing oil."
No more words were said. The silence echoed throughout the chamber, loud as it bounced off the walls. Solenn had no idea what to do next. She wanted to move, to talk, to fill the emptiness of the chamber, but even she knew that this kind of silence was too sacred for her to break.
She closed her eyes and confronted the silence. She battled with it, struggled with it, until Samson's reprimand during one of their meditation sessions broke through.
Solenn, don't fight it. Embrace it.
How do you embrace something as sinister and terrifying as emptiness? It was the kind of emptiness that sucked her soul in. The kind that invited the assault of memories she would rather forget.
She opened her eyes and glanced at the other Candidates. Their eyes were all closed and they were all relaxed. Their faces showed no traces of the panic she was feeling at the moment, and envied at how easily they were able to dive deep into their souls. She wondered what they thought about when they meditated. Samson once said that he prayed during meditation. He would welcome the silence and solitude that came with the emptiness and fill it with conversations with the Triune.
How did one converse with the God of all Things? Was this uncanny ability to talk to God one of the perks of being a Judge or a priest?
Solenn didn't know. She prayed, yes, but she never really got the hang of it. She attended Masses, but she never stayed long enough to understand what the hype was about. Usually she'd be kicked out, or she would fall asleep. She led rallies, but only because it was cool to stand on the stage and to get the crowd riled up with whatever high they experience during those times.
She wondered now why she was ever chosen to be a Champion. Maybe she wasn't really cut out for this.
Panic seized her. She wanted to bolt. She hated, too, that she was the only one disturbed by what was happening... or not happening. She took a step back, but she made the mistake of glancing towards Samson.
Stay, his eyes seemed to command. Bear with it.
Solenn nodded and settled in her position again. She watched the High Priest, who without further ceremony asked them the one question that would mark the beginning of our lives as Champions of Eden.
"The Triune has chosen you. Father, Son and Holy Ghost. One in Three. You have been called by name to defend the Garden of Eden and the gate to the Tree of Life. Do you accept your destiny?"
Accept their destiny? Weren't they supposed to carve their own destinies? Called by name? Solenn did not remember being called by name. She remembered a lot of things, most of which she wanted to forget, but she didn't remember being called by name.
Her eyes snapped shut as she finally allowed the memories to fill the emptiness.
She remembered being surrounded by fire and not feeling the flames scorching her skin.
She remembered lying in a sea of flickering embers and burning ashes, and the terror that had gripped her heart when she heard the Astanason soldiers laughing about striking Solomon and Magdalen dead with their swords, of throwing the others in the river to drown.
She remembered screaming for her family but they weren't around. She remembered screaming for Samson, but even in her terror she knew that he was back in Cielos. She screamed until her voice was hoarse and her lungs were filled with thick smoke. She screamed until she could scream no more, abandoned in flames, ready to die.
Never in her young life had she hated herself for being so weak. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dove landing next to her.
Its feathers were whiter than snow and more luminous than the stars in the sky. Its eyes were burning like a million suns as it stared at her.
Was she dying? She wondered. Did pretty birds come out from nowhere and land next to dying people to fetch them and bring them to heaven? It would be great, Solenn thought, if she went to heaven after this. Magda used to tell stories about hell, and she remembered her saying once that it was hotter than ten thousand burning furnaces. But would she go to heaven with Solomon?
Solomon!
Something in Solenn's heart flared to life at the thought of Solomon, the other half of her soul. She didn't want to go anywhere without Solomon and her other friends. She didn't want to die, because she knew Solomon would break. Magda made sure that their hearts and souls were forged together, forever bonded by blood and spirit - whatever that meant. She couldn't understand big words, but what she understood was that she couldn't leave Solomon behind.
She had to live.
Delirious and desperate, she reached out to the dove. "Help," she whispered. "Help me, please."
The dove stared at her again, and she felt like being suspended in time as she waited for... What was she waiting for? Death? Deliverance? She didn't know.
She held on to her life, every breath that she drew, a chore, an agony. Finally, the dove moved. It walked to her and pecked at her arm. When she looked down, she saw something - a symbol, a mark - appear on her arm.
And then the dove spread its wings, and the fire disappeared. Everything went black. When she came to, she heard Solomon's voice coming from the woods, as desperate as her own, calling out for her. She felt arms lifting her into an embrace, tears that didn't belong to her stinging her burnt skin. She heard Solomon's voice chanting her name in broken whispers.
It hurt all over, she was still afraid, and the dove was gone. But she was alive and Solomon was finally with her. At the moment, that was all that mattered.
When Solenn opened her eyes again, the High Priest was standing in front of her. The look on his eyes was gentle as he asked again, "Do you accept?"
Did she?
She glanced around at the others and realized that she was the last to answer. She caught Samson's gaze, and then Solomon's, and for reasons she couldn't fathom, Gabriel's.
They were all waiting, yes, but there were no demands. No expectations.
It was as if she could say, "Hell no!" and they wouldn't judge her. But she would judge herself.
Hadn't she prepared for this all her life?
There were a thousand reasons to say no, but in her heart, she held on to the one reason why she would say yes.
To be strong enough to protect the people I love.
That was it. No turning back, then.
She met the eyes of the priest and nodded. "I accept."