The Priesthood

With the surprisingly kind assistance of the Atheian known as Y’Kraun, they left the chamber garnished with bones and an engraving behind. Making their way through cramped tunnels toward an unknown destination, the Atheian would not speak nor mention where they would be heading. But Kanrel could already guess how this would all end up. Depending on the Atheian, he would either be somehow imprisoned by its people or Y’Kraun would help him hide somewhere. But wouldn’t the chamber they just left be the best place to hide?

The darkness was ever-present. And more unnerving than a dark forest, even one with tales of wolves and other wildlife, a forest that could be the end of an unsuspecting berry picker, hunter, or child who just wanted to find some ants to observe. He could feel it. It was all around. This sickening sensation—as if there was something out there. Something past his field of vision; something past his own understanding.

What lay in the shadows? What lay past the bright blue light that lit their way through the darkness?

The Atheian seemed unbothered by it, or it might be that this sensation was just something it was used to. Or something, it couldn’t recognize or feel.

As they walked the rocky tunnels, ones that could not have been the creation of nature, they seemed far too symmetrical in their shape and form. Something or someone had made these tunnels like they made the chamber in which Kanrel had found himself. Could it have been the Atheians long ago? When they first were thrust beneath the ground? Or perhaps the Angels, as they constructed this prison for those that they had judged.

What if it was something entirely else? Something related to this feeling.

“Do you often survey these tunnels?” Kanrel asked, wanting to fill the silence with something, anything at all, lest his own imagination lead him to be afraid of the dark.

Y’Kraun smacked its lips. “Once a cycle, thus, you were lucky indeed.”

“Cycle?”

“Yes, cycle. It is how we measure time, as we have no stars, the sun, or even a moon to give us guidance with such things. Thus, we are left with only the cycle.”

“The cycle of what?” Kanrel asked with a hint of confusion in his tone.

Y’Kraun snorted, “You humans, you have females, right?”

“Ah, yes, we do.”

“Then I need not explain further.”

They continued their way through the darkness in what one could describe as pseudosilence. The silence between the two was always followed by sounds around—their steps that echoed in the tunnels, their steady breathing, and the wind that entered the tunnels from an entrance that they reached in less than an hour or so.

And this entrance they could see—a smoothly cut doorway in the middle of rock, it seemed—from where came another blue hue, something that glowed far away, yet just a hint of light for this tunnel, something else than the light that Y’Kraun carried. Theirs was a crystal, a stone, or something akin to that, which then gave them the light that they needed.

As they stepped outside, Kanrel could see a forest of stones that spread far into the large, open cave that they had reached. He had only heard of such things—stalagmites; apparently they would sometimes form in caves and such after a long time, but he didn’t quite know why or how. It had something to do with dripping water, he recalled.

And past the forest of stalagmites, he could see from where the blue light came, but only the direction and not the source of it.

“You said that you don’t have a sun. Then what is the source of this light?” Kanrel asked as they continued their way through the forest.

“I’ve not seen it for myself, but it is like the crystal that I have with me, but far larger; it is stationed somewhere above L’eu’n Grau’v, and the light it gives us does not reach us all equally.” Y’Kraun explained, “But I’ve seen that, which makes it somewhat brighter for us, one of the great mirrors that were built long ago to distribute light for all... And there are these, of course.” It said and gave Kanrel the blue stone that no longer glowed.

“Near our village, we mine such crystal; it is how we live; it is how we survive.” It added.

Kanrel took the crystal that was offered and began investigating it. It was as heavy as any stone or rock that was the size of an egg, but its surface was far smoother than that of an egg. It felt like glass, in a way.

“And how does one make it glow? Do they glow naturally?” He asked.

“Of course not; they need to be charged with what some might call magic,” Y’Kraun said rather casually, but in its words, there was a slight threat that did not go unnoticed by Kanrel.

With this, Kanrel knew where they would be heading. A village that this Atheian and perhaps many others knew as their home, but now there would be an outsider that would enter it, someone who would be for them “the other.”

Far too dangerous. He needed more information. Far more than the tiny speck that he had acquired in this small amount of time.

“Tell me about your village and your people. I would much rather not enter without having some knowledge, for I do not wish to upset or offend anyone, as what I know is naught of your culture or your ways.” He asked; perhaps conversation would make them travel more slowly, and maybe he could even distract Y'Kraun, who might as well be his captor rather than his savior.

Again, the Atheian smacked its lips. “So you do know fear, human.”

“Curious.” It remarked.

“There is just one piece of advice that I could give you... Speak only when asked a question; otherwise, keep your tongue in check.”

“You will live as long as those in power find you curious enough; otherwise, you shall be discarded and soon forgotten.”

“Knowledge and information about the above world, and even of your kind, is valuable to some, at least as something that is exotic and exciting.”

“You need no other information about us; knowing when to speak and when to be silent is your only saving grace.” Y’Kraun finished, and thus silence descended upon them once more.

But in this silence, Kanrel began to think. For now, he wouldn’t have time for sightseeing. Instead, he had to remember things that might be of interest to this ancient race of beings.

Around him, as he lay deep in his thoughts, the environment changed slowly; the stalagmite forest soon dwindled and became more sporadic, and soon there was just the cave floor as even the type of rock around seemed to change. There weren’t many living things around, though, just the two of them as they walked out of the forest and into the open landscape that was colored by the blue hue that came from somewhere so far away.

If one paid more attention, they would realize that they first had to rise from a gentle slope at the bottom of the stalagmite forest, reaching a barely noticeable ridge that gently sloped toward where they were going. And far away, he could soon see something that broke him away from his nervous thoughts; to the left of them, there was a massive lake that continued as far as the eye could see. Perhaps, somewhere far away, there would be the wall of the cave, something that would keep enclosed that massive body of water.

It could only be a lake, as in Kanrel’s mind, it was impossible that such a thing as an underwater ocean existed, which seemed, frankly, impossible. Something that could never happen, for from where could the water find its way below the ground? Wasn't there solid rock between here and that which was above? And not to mention that the nearest location where he had last been above ground was the forest and its hidden ruins, which were not too far away from the mountains. Then could it be that right on top of them, in this very moment, there’d be some of the tallest peaks in the known world?

The idea of being under something so massive and heavy was strange, and it was also fear-inducing, for what if the stone above gave way? What if it collapsed, causing a cave-in and burying beneath it the last of the peoples known by those above as the Otherkind? Not to mention himself with them.

It would be, truly, an ending for those below.

His eyes were fixed on that, which he decided to be a lake instead of an ocean. The water was dark, mostly colorless, as only a reflection of the blue light could be seen above its waters. It was like a bridge built across it, only ending abruptly as it met a wall of darkness, through which light could not pierce. It was odd, as there was no horizon for this massive lake, only darkness that felt almost physical.

They suddenly came to a stop, and Kanrel at last broke his gaze from that bridge of light and peeked at Y’Kraun, who had its gaze set on something that was ahead of them; he followed its gaze and in turn, saw what it was looking at.

A hill. At first, it looked unimportant and something for which there could never be a reason to stop, but then he realized that the blue light was pointed at it, the same that came from somewhere to the right of them. And as he peered, he could see small figures moving along its slopes and even finer details, perhaps windows, from where hints of light came from.

It was like a tower or a fortress, but what it was was a village. Home to the Atheian known as Y’Kraun.

“Au’Tau Iu’Rauk, the Blue-Stone Village,” Y’Kraun muttered. “Soon you will know where the name comes from.” It then added.

After that short stop—perhaps a moment meant for admiring the sight of the village—they continued their way, entering the final stretch of their little journey together. To the left of them, a great lake with a bridge of light; in front of them, a village where Kanrel would most likely find himself a prisoner and perhaps even his own death; to the right of them, somewhere past the vast emptiness, there’d be a great mirror that reflected the light that allowed them to make their way in this otherwise dark cave, even creating the blue bridge and its beauty that met the physicality of darkness and shadows, thus coming to an abrupt end; and then, behind them, nothing more than a way back to that chamber... And as far as Kanrel could tell, there’d be no way out. Any direction he’d choose, this one was the only one that would give him any answers.

It was also the one that made him more and more anxious and afraid after each step that he took. Soon it would all end. Soon he’d find another form of fear, another thing to worry about; after all, even after so many steps to reach this first threshold, even that was just a step in the grand scheme of things. There were so many things that could become his end on the other side of that threshold, and he’d have to take so many more steps to reach any answer that would give him the necessary knowledge to find his way back home. He just wanted to get back home. He just wanted to bask in the light of the sun and the company of his friends and family.

Perhaps he could even beg the Angels to be rid of this curse—this so-called gift of magic that plagued his existence, dwindled his humanity and made him someone he didn’t want to be. How long would it take? How many years would he have to give to reach the light of dawn once more?

Such thoughts encircled his mind, keeping it in its control until the very moment that the sight of that hill, which was something that covered his entire field of view, became something massive, and the creatures that he had seen so far away were not ants tending to their anthill, but people, not much different from the Atheian that helped him walk, and that soon helped him walk upon its slopes, a path built for those who might want to enter this construct.

Already, he could feel eyes on him. From the windows where some blue light came from, he could see faces, and the bright eyes on those faces showed how carefully they observed the duo. Was it all just curiosity? He wondered, or were those eyes afraid as well? Could they fear him as much as he felt that he would soon learn to fear them?

Y'Kraun's helping hands had become chains—ones that he could not break. He felt his body tremble, as each step had become one that sealed his fate. That made him wonder if it would’ve been better to have been left unfound by the Atheian, if death was indeed what he wanted...

No, it couldn’t be that. He was just more afraid of things that were alive than of things that were dead. Another living thing could hurt; another living thing could be his death; another living thing could be the thing that would deny him that which he rationally most wanted: a passage back home.

Together, they entered what seemed like the main entrance to the village, a tall doorway meant for the Atheians that inhabited it. Around him, he could see chains that hung from the ceiling of the first "room,” and from those chains hung blue stones that lit the rooms of this hill.

And in that first room, they were greeted by two Atheians, both more dressed than Y’Kraun, both wearing a black set of cloth-like clothing with white embroidery depicting something that Kanrel couldn’t quite describe. To him, they just seemed like swirls and lines made at random, but he was sure that they had some meaning that was lost on him.

At the sight of the two Atheians, Y’Kraun fell to its knees, bringing Kanrel down with it. It let go of Kanrel and offered its hands toward the two, not saying a word.

“What is this?” One of the two Atheians asked, peering at Kanrel and taking a step forward, “It knows not how to greet one better than itself.” It snorted and placed its long fingers under Kanrel’s chin so that it could move his chin from left to right, then down, and at last, back up to again face its gaze.

“Y’Kraun, this creature—what might it be? Is it the reason why you needed the pearls?” It asked, letting go of Kanrel as well.

“Oh, one of wealth, this is a human; and with the pearls, this serf could communicate with it,” Y’Kraun answered promptly; for the first time since Kanrel had heard it speak, it sounded courteous, nervous, even.

The Atheian, addressed as “one of wealth,” took a step toward Y'Kraun, and from its ear, it took the pearl. It made the pearl levitate and soon produced water out of thin air, washing the pearl, and then drying it with a gust of wind before placing it into its own ear. Then it addressed Kanrel at last.

“You... tell me, what are you.” The Atheian commanded, its gaze set on Kanrel, its eyes going over him, his clothes, his hair, his eyes, his hands, his legs—all details that might be different from what it was used to.

After hesitating for a mere moment, Kanrel replied as simply as he could: “A human.” He chose not to add the courtesy that Y’Kraun had used. If it would be a mistake in the future, he knew not.

The Atheian’s long fingers again reached for his chin and moved his face around. “Perhaps you are; perhaps you are not. To confirm, I would need one from the Grand Library. A pity, I say. I would prefer to have you for myself only. You are quite... different...” A smile came to its face as it lifted Kanrel’s chin so that he could see its eyes more clearly; they too were a bright blue like the ones that Y’Kraun had, but in those eyes, there was curiosity that needed to be satisfied. This Atheian yearned for nothing more, it seemed.

“My house will give you a place to sleep and eat; you will be mine, for the time being…” It soon said as Kanrel began to levitate, as without warning, the Atheian, whose name he did not yet know, so easily and casually used its powers to lift him, like he were an object and nothing more.