The Priesthood

When Y’Kraun first arrived at A’Trou’n’s house, their ever-gracious host spoke to it in private, and the two were not seen for a few hours. During that time, Kanrel was forced to spend his time in the company of Lou’Deu’n, who, notebook in hand, keenly observed every motion, action, or word that Kanrel might utter.

The scholar would place things before him—different objects, shapes, and forms—and then ask him what they might be. And so, one at a time, Kanrel would point to each and every single one of them and name them: “cube,” “paper,” “cup,” and so on.

And each time, the scholar would write something in its notes. Kanrel wondered how his language and the phonetics of said language would translate to the scripture that the Atheians would use. And sometimes, the Atheian would try to pronounce these words as well. Words like “cup” and “paper” didn’t seem too difficult for it to pronounce, but any words that had an “h” or an “s” seemed very difficult for it. They seemed to be the sounds and letters that had become “null and void,” as was mentioned by A’Trou’n.

Later, when at last Y’Kraun and their host joined them, the serf seemed slightly distraught and very uncomfortable; it had become even more docile and submissive in its actions toward its master. But now, it too had a pearl in its ear.

“Why have you brought a serf here?” Lou’Deu’n soon asked with clear disgust in its voice. Y’Kraun held its gaze on the floor, and there seemed to be no reaction to the scholar's words, but in its eyes there flashed an emotion that Kanrel couldn’t name.

“Now, now, my pompous friend, you had asked for a translator, and I would much rather save my voice for questions that I might ask the Darshi than spend it or my time translating,” A’trou’n said with a slight smile.

Lou’Deu’n got up, and anger flared again within the quick-tempered Atheian. “This wasn’t part of our deal!” It protested.

A’trou’n scoffed, “Sit down.” It gave a stern command, one that you could not go against.

Lou’Deu’n stood for a while, conflicted, clearly wanting to further voice out its anger but knowing that in the end, it would sit down. It could not afford to anger someone so powerful. So, it, at last, sat down, but their facial expressions were more than enough to show its discontent not only for the serf but also for the decision that A’trou’n had made.

“Now then, my pompous friend, the serf is here to stay, and the serf will not utter a word or a thing about what has been said here; it is not allowed to. It knows what will happen to it and its family if it were to go against my wishes." A’trou’n said, its tone still stern as it kept its gaze on the scholar, even when each word was meant for the serf, who felt tinier and tinier after each word that was spat out.

Y’Kraun was pathetic before these two Atheians. Even in Kanrel’s eyes, he had become so. At first, it had been a creature that had brought him food, healed his body, helped him, and walked him to this village. It felt stronger than he was and more capable. It too had looked down on him. But now, the situation has changed.

Y’Kraun, perhaps, had even less that it could say to affect its own future. It was a serf, after all. Before the two other Atheians, one was a scholar, and the other had great wealth and seemed to own the very land that was beneath them. In comparison, it was unsure if Y’Kraun even owned its own clothes or if they too belonged to A’trou’n. In fact, Y’Kraun was nothing more than a serf; it was tied to the land that was owned by A’Trou’n and its family.

They moved into another location of A’trou’n mansion-like construction of tunnels and caves. A smaller room, one more intimate but one far more comfortable than the hall they had first entered. They sat around a round stone table that was dark and polished. One could see their own reflection on its surface; again, Kanrel was reminded of how he had changed. Now, at least, he was much cleaner than before, but still, he wanted to get rid of the ugly beard that covered half of his face.

Y’Kraun wasn’t allowed to sit at the table; it was forced to sit slightly away from it, only close enough that it could hear what Kanrel would say well enough and so that Lou’Deu’n could hear its translation clearly.

A’trou’n took the most comfortable place to sit for itself, then it cleared its throat and said, “You may begin.” It made a vague gesture toward the scholar, who had its eyes solely on Kanrel.

In the room, there was no one else except the four of them. There were no other ears to hear what Y’Kraun would repeat.

“I would imagine that our lord here,” it said, tilting its head slightly toward A’trou’n, “only asked you questions regarding your culture and the history of humankind; I too am interested in such things, but I feel that I ought to have at least the tiniest bit of curiosity toward you as well, not just the history of your species.”

“So tell me, human, what is your name and what is your status in the lands above?” Lou’Deu’n asked, not once looking toward Y’Kraun, or their "lord," but instead keeping its gaze directed only at Kanrel.

He chose not to hesitate for even a moment. “I am Kanrel Iduldian, and in the lands above, one could say that I am a mix of your job and a priest.” He wouldn’t say more to hide how much power his family had.

Y’Kraun hesitated for some reason and glanced at A’trou’n, who scoffed, “Translate, serf.” It was a stern command; no one would look at Y’Kraun; it wasn’t here. They wouldn’t even look at it when it repeated everything Kanrel had said, word for word.

“Interesting,” Lou’Deu’n muttered and took a note; their expression had shifted slightly as if it didn’t quite like what Kanrel had just said: “What do you mean by your job being a mix of mine and the job of a priest’s?”

“In our lands, the job of a priest is to be educated on many different matters; they are often the most educated individuals, and their job is to collect information, be it events that have happened to individuals in the village or area where they were stationed; they might at the same time study a given field, be it chemistry, medicine, or just history.”

“And, as a priest, their job is to also serve the people around them, no matter what their issue or grievance in life might be. But they also help with the religious side of things, be it through teaching about such things or giving sermons that are religious in nature.” Kanrel explained, and throughout his explanation, Y’Kraun would translate, keeping an eye on A’trou’n, waiting for any gesture they might make if its master wanted it to stop translating.

Lou'Deu's expression was complicated throughout it; at times it seemed bemused and at times it was simply amused, and it soon snorted, “So, the priests of your given religion or tradition are there to serve the people around them?” Its question seemed rather mocking.

“Yes, it is something that is demanded of us, and if we do not abide by these rules, we would then go against the oaths that we have made. We have to be, at times, almost altruistic to a fault.” Kanrel confirmed.

Lou’Deu’n took another note and asked another question: “And what is this religion of yours? Who is the deity that you believe in?”

Kanrel couldn’t help but peer at A’trou’n as he gave his answer: "Well, yes, there really isn’t a word for our 'religion’ but the organization that servers our gods is called ‘the Priesthood.’ Not a very imaginative name, but it is the only of its kind; other religions and the belief in other gods are considered heretical and thus not allowed.”

“So there is no need for another word to describe what we are.”

“Our gods, on the other hand,” he said, and more closely observed A’trou’n, “are the Angels, as we call them... I could tell you more about them, but this is perhaps best done through the eyes of history instead of the eyes of theological guesswork." Kanrel suggested.

Y’Kraun was allowed to translate until the first mention of the Angels. At that moment, A’trou’n made a slight gesture, stopping Y’Kraun, and then translated the rest itself: “It says that they are known as the All-Seeing; it could tell more about them, but it suggests that we learn more of them through the history of its people, instead of the theological side of things.” Its voice was even as it stared at the scholar, who stared at it in return. Then it smiled and added, “Yesterday, the human shared some of the history of its people with me. I will give you a thorough rundown of the things that it shared with me. We might do so at my leisure.” Its smile widened as anger once more flared on the face of the scholar.

“Very well, it is, after all, an offer I can’t refuse.” Lou’Deu’n replied through gritted teeth; it then returned its attention back to Kanrel: “Then, Kanrel Iduldian, you may continue where you yesterday left off. I will ask clarifying questions if I have any when the moment comes, and if I don’t, I will ask them at a later date.” Even though it was more of a demand than anything else, the way it spoke to Kanrel was far more curt than it did toward A’trou’n, and this didn’t go unnoticed as it was clearly intentional.

A’trou’n’s earlier smile gave birth to an even wider grin that showcased its clean and sharp collection of teeth, yet it didn’t say anything; instead, it seemed to revel in the reaction that it had gotten from one of its guests.

Kanrel spent a moment remembering how far he had gotten: “Ah, yes, very well.” He soon said, after clearing his throat, “An Angel appeared to a woman who had lost all; the stories say that she traveled to the three great mountains not far from the desert from which the Wildkin had arrived.”

“It is said that she was there to find a suitable spot to die after her family—her husband and her children—had been brutally killed and devoured by the invading creatures. But before she could cast herself down from a cliff, she heard a voice that spoke to her: ‘You would so sin in the presence of divinity? Why?’”

“She had, at that moment, turned around and soon witnessed the blinding beauty of the creature that claimed to be divine: its face filled with scales, its eyes deep and golden in color, and within them, deeper knowledge that could not be explained by lesser creatures, and from its back a pair of grand wings could be seen. The woman could only kneel because of the awe that had struck her. At that moment, the despair that had filled her heart to the brim subdued, and tears once more glistened in her eyes as she confessed, ‘I’ve lost my family and many of my friends; evil roams the lands I’ve long called home; there is no hope, oh, great one.’”

“The Angel came closer and lifted the woman from her knees. ‘This I’ve seen, and such brutality should not exist; thusly, I’ve descended down from the heavens and have come to seek you and offer you guidance,’ the Angel had said, their tone and touch said to be gentle and loving, even to a creature as lowly as a grieving human.”

“The woman dared not meet the eyes of the Angel, but the Angel made her meet their eyes, to witness eternity in them and the truth: ‘Fear not, for me and my kind are with you and yours; I will bless you; I will give you power so that you might purify not only the memory of your family and friends but also the lands from the blight that has come from a faraway land and brutalized its nature and peoples.’”

“The Angel then placed their massive hand on the woman’s head, covering all of it, their hand warm against the top of her head. She then could hear an ancient language spoken, one that she could not understand. This was followed by a feeling of immense power running through her, as if she were afire as if her whole body were cast into the flames of a furnace or the lava of a volcano, but there was no pain. For soon, she could not feel such a thing; there was no pain, there was no grief, there was no sadness, and there was no joy; she had become a blank canvas with no other emotion than the immense gratitude that soon washed over her.”

“The Angel dried the remainder of her tears and said, ‘Go now, take your revenge, show your new powers to your people, then come to me with a hundred of your kind, those who wish to seek justice and are equally as willing to become weapons which will purify these lands... Become my herald, and in return, I will save you.”'

Kanrel stopped; his mouth felt so dry after all this talking, so he rested for a while and listened carefully to the rest of the translation, which was ongoing. It was mostly Y’Kraun who did the translating; it made sure that the word “angel” would be translated as “god,” and the description of the Angel was translated by A’trou’n: “She turned around and witnessed the beauty of the creature claiming to be divine: its face was pale and bright, its eyes deep, and they glistened in colors of purple and red, and in those eyes there seemed to be wisdom unimaginable to a human.” There was no mention of wings or anything related to that; where the creature had come from was left unmentioned as well. And through every lie, A’trou’n told, its tone remained the same, and afterward, its smile appeared again, and it seemed to mock the very existence of the scholar, who could only wonder and guess what Kanrel had truly shared with them.

Even then, the ever-attentive and gracious host of theirs noticed what Kanrel needed and called for two servants to come in, “Bring our guests water and be quick with it!” Its voice was sterner than moments before, then it gazed at Y'Kraun and said, “You, serf, you’re much quicker on the intake than I had anticipated or even hoped for; keep it up, and I might reward you.”

Y’Kraun made the same submissive gesture as any serf or servant would to someone much more important than they were. All the while, Lou’Deu’n wrote long sentences in its notebook, having to often turn to the next page as the amount of information that it would have to collect would surely end up filling many notebooks to come.

Kanrel couldn’t help but stare at this process; it was, after all, something that he had done many times before. It was something he quite enjoyed. And it was something he yearned to do once more. “My lord,” he suddenly said, “might I ask for something?”

A’trou’n stared at the human who dared to speak. In such a moment, it usually might’ve given a punishment for such a transgression, but maybe its curiosity took the better of it. “You may speak...”

“There is something that I greatly miss, something that a priest like I would often do, and it is to write, my lord.” Kanrel began, “I would only ask for a notebook and a pen if that were possible.”

A’trou’n thought for a moment, “And what might you write?” It soon asked, its tone mostly curious.

“Everything, of course,” Kanrel replied, as it was the truth; what else would he write about? Other than everything?

The Atheian let out a mighty chuckle. “You scholars are a strange lot... I will grant you as much human, for what could be the harm? After all, only you know how to read or write in whatever language you know.” It said, “But...” There always had to be a but.

“You must, each day, give me a rundown of the things that you’ve written about. Such would only be fair, for the paper and the pen that you would use would be something that I still own, and I’d like to know what my property is being used for.” A’trou’n demanded, and in its eyes, there was a sharp edge.

Kanrel let out a slight sigh. “Very well, I see no problem with such a condition, and I must say, I would find it a curious experience; it has been a long time since I’ve had to present my work to anyone in such a way.”

A’trou’n tilted its head to the side and muttered, “Most interesting.” And it gave another slight smile that soon perished as the doors opened and two servants came running in, one holding a vase filled with water and the other a tray with four cups on it. The servants came closer and placed three of the cups on the table and poured water in each of them; the last cup they placed on the floor near Y’Kraun, but they did not pour water in it; instead, they left the vase next to the serf and then ran off, closing the door behind them.

No one took action, not before A’trou’n would allow them to.

A’trou’n stared at Lou’Deu’n for a while and at last said, “Drink human,” then glanced at the serf, the vase, and the cup near it, “The rest of you may drink as well.” It finally decided. Perhaps their ever-gracious host was more pleased with the situation and even Y’Kraun’s performance than it had at first made them understand.

They drank, and Y’Kraun was ordered to pour them some more, and soon after A’trou’n gave another command, “Continue where you left off." On its face was a hint of a satisfied expression, as if all had gone better than it had expected.

Such a smile gave Kanrel the shivers, but he was able to mostly hide them; to others, it would seem like he was only fixing his posture. Then he continued: “The woman descended from the cliffs where she had met the Angel and received their blessing, then she found the great army, which was led by the king of Lo'Gran, whose mission was to give the men of the south the opportunity to flee northward.”