Ceremony Ch. 01

Dianorla opened the door to the temple by pushing the door inwards with her body weight. It was dark outside now and she had been alone as she walked around the temple complex. She needed to be on her own sometimes. The only way to achieve complete privacy at the temple complex was to walk in the dark when no one could see her. In the daytime there were always people about. But now it was the time for the regular evening celebration in the Temple. Two hours after sundown was the time. As a priestess of the Goddess of Life she was called to observe and participate on a rotating basis in this rite. She guessed there might be a long evening ahead before she could rest again.

She enjoyed her life as a Priestess normally but there were times as tonight when she would have liked merely to rest. She felt it was perhaps a minor insult to the

Goddess for a priestess to enter the ceremony with her mind not entirely at one with the events, but she had chosen her vocation and was thus duty bound to perform it.

There was no purpose in complaining. The priesthood allowed plenty of time for relaxation. She must seek to participate with open and clear mind, and must try not to allow selfish thoughts to enter her mind. To resist the Goddess, even mentally, was a sin against her and was supposed to dilute the effect of this ceremony, which was to celebrate life and encourage the Goddess to continue to give life to all the millions of people across the Empire. Dianorla did not worry unduly about her thoughts remaining constant. Her thoughts had wandered often and she had often held wrong thoughts about the other people engaged in the ceremony and she had never been punished by the High Priests and Priestesses, or by the Goddess herself. It had been as if they could not see what was inside her mind. Few people thought that the Goddess was anything more than an ideal, the personification of a set of beliefs and ideas about how to live and practice your life.

In some ceremonies resistant thoughts were encouraged, even induced in order to create the effect which the ceremony required. However Dianorla felt that she should make an effort to be at one with the ceremony. It was a powerful ceremony and it was not always easy to achieve oneness. Dianorla had frequently been enraptured by it and fully taken up in its power and vitality. She had enjoyed those times when she had felt swept up by the celebration, and those times when she was bored and disinterested had been dull for her. So she always attempted to make the most of the event regardless of her mood. It was better for her.

As the door slid open the smell of incense and that other smell of human sweat which could never be entirely hidden in the temple, assailed her. A stately soft music emanated from behind the altar, producing an atmosphere of concentration and serious intent. Other priestesses were arriving in groups through other doors. There would be three hundred of them tonight at this ceremony, their purple gowns tied at the waist, feet barefoot. A low babble of conversation existed as they came down through the aisles and pillars into the semicircular centre of the temple. They stood finally in rows on the steps of the temple in between the leather skinned seats and tables, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Dianorla took her place among them on the second row at the right hand side. She was close to the circle which increased her chances of being picked. She reprimanded herself for not placing herself further back, but it would not look good to the High Priestesses or the other Priestesses to be seen attempting to determine her own position. They were supposed to follow the flow of Priestesses and end wherever they found themselves, naturally. In any case she was not sure whether she wanted to participate directly or not. If she did not she may find the ceremony boring and even risked falling asleep. If she did participate she sometimes could not enter the mood these days and desired a rest from such activities.

The music became more lively and stirring by degrees. The louder voices subsided as the Priestesses took up their positions. High Priestesses Carorna and Karesa came to the bare leather altar and stood before it wearing their colourful overgarments, covered in the ancient runes of magic. They wore crowned hairpieces and ornate jewellery from all over the Empire. These formidable and powerful women were far more than priestesses. They were magic wielders for the Goddess in this provincial region called Sharlan, of the great Empire of Shalirion. Many regarded them as sorceresses, although in her few years as a priesthood initiate, Dianorla had never known them to exercise anything that she would have called magic. The most she had seen from them, or other High Priestesses, had been to summon rainfall during a period of water shortage some years before. They also appeared to have great skill in maintaining the erections of men during ceremonies when nature was insufficient to keep them aroused. She had seen both of them, and others, imploring the Goddess with magic when men were losing their confidence and without recourse to the natural stimulation of visual treats. These were magic skills to be sure but of an ordinary sort. She had seen no real evidence that the Goddess was any more than an ideal, or that powerful magic of world changing importance existed.

Carorna was the elder and therefore most senior of the two and she it was who began to speak the Incantations of Life which had been chosen. These instructed the communicants that the benefits of life should be taken up by them and passed on to everyone in the world so that all could reap the harvest of a full and beneficial life. The words were familiar. They had been written in the Books many centuries before and passed down for study and reference in the ceremonies of Temples all over Shalirion. Dianorla had heard them before many times even though the High Priestesses often chose different incantations. As far as Dianorla could remember they all said much the same things. Her periods of study had finished some years before so she was no longer as familiar with them as she used to be. After so many years of ceremonies the excitement and interest of youth waned somewhat and she and other Priestesses she had confided in began to think other thoughts while the words were spoken.

Dianorla thought about Carorna as she spoke. Did the words hold meaning for her?

She certainly made them sound as if the words meant much for her but she had been a

High Priestess for many years and had repeated these lines many times. How could these lines be of renewed interest to her every time she undertook the ceremony? She wondered how old Carorna was. Probably nearing sixty years. Her face was lined although still attractive and her body was fleshy and saggy in places although again still healthy and fit. Dianorla had noticed that she participated less in the ceremony these days than she had used to. In the past she remembered Carorna had regularly participated with great vigour worthy of a High Priestess of the Goddess. Karesa was a much younger High Priestess, only recently promoted from among the ranks of the more privileged priestesses. Dianorla could not recall seeing her officiate at this particular ceremony before but she probably had at those which Dianorla had not had to attend. Karesa was a slim tall woman with blonde hair and a beautiful face. She certainly had the mark of a great High Priestess on her. Dianorla admired her and, like many other Priestesses she knew, wished that she could be more like Karesa and could be elevated to the position of High Priestess one day. Dianorla never expected that she would ever be elevated in that way. Her own recent feelings of reluctance, her need for quiet lonely walks after dark made her realise that she was unsuitable. She was sure that the High Priesthood would surely realise she was not as devoted to the Goddess as she would need to be to be elevated. They would never allow a doubter to become a magic wielder.

"It is time to say more of the ceremony we are about to perform," spoke the austere Carorna, in a departure from the normal form of this ceremony. "Most of you have come here in the expectation that our worship of the Goddess is for the continuing peace and fulfilment of our town and its region, and for the continuing prosperity of the Empire. If only that were our sole need. There is a new urgency in our ceremonies, which was not expected, but is becoming necessary for the protection of our Empire and our whole way of life. The barbarian kingdoms of Animar have become jealous of the territories of the Empire. Their leaders have formed a pact, and have launched a huge fleet of ships against us, carrying the largest army ever mustered against us. Two months ago they have landed in the north near Cromilil and along a wide stretch of coast all the way towards Vedalis. Their armies are led by the Kings Guthelm the Conqueror of Grumandor, Charlerion the Magnificent of Pelancir, and others. They have with them their own dark sorcerors, some from the distant East who may have sorceries we are unaware of. These sorcerors are led by Valdark the Impaler, who uses the pain of his tortured victims to create dark magic of the most fearful and appalling kind. They have told lies about us to their own peoples, and to other races in order to encourage them in their war effort against us. They have brought to their banners treacherous Goblin hordes from the mountainous regions of Animar and the lands to the East, the greedy Dwarves of the East, and Dark Elves under the perverse influence of self corrupted leaders. These dark forces have taken much territory. Cromilil and Bricas have been sacked and almost all their populations brutally killed. By now probably ancient Chiniss, Faldas, and Riarcan are encircled, maybe almost lost as I speak. This is the largest and most brutal invasion our Empire has ever suffered. Virtually all the forces of Animar and beyond to the East are involved in this. Our leaders have tried to meet with representatives of the horde but they are not interested in peace and will not even meet. They threaten to defeat us entirely. Never has our Empire been at such risk, all our lives are at risk. We have slowed their advance now that we understand better what forces assail us, but so far we have no prospect of defeating them. Our spies have begun to gather more information and we are beginning to ask those questions which we need to answer. The invaders want many different rewards as far as we can tell; lands for settlement; pillage and wealth; rape; slaves; many appear to view the act of killing as an end in themselves. One of our best chances is to encourage them to fight each other. They are so greedy they have begun to do just that, which may possibly save us, but if they act as one we can hardly resist.

"It has been decided that we must ask the Goddess to help us. Only by her magic can we save ourselves and defeat the greatest enemy we have ever endured. The Goddess has protected us through the ages. All of our ceremonies have woven the threads of magic which have given us quiet and fulfilled lives, filled with the wholesome love of the Goddess. As the centuries have turned the magic has become natural to us, so much so that we have hardly needed to appeal to the depths and the heights of our souls. That time is gone now. To save ourselves we must make a huge magic, to counter the forces of evil which assail us. We must remember that our enemies have their own sorcerors and wizards, who will use all the magic they can bend to their will to bring misery to us all. Their magic is also powerful. They will doubtless also attempt to appeal to the Goddess, although the Goddess has never lent her magic to evil in the past."

"This ceremony will follow the usual traditional forms," said Karesa, speaking for the first time in this communion. "However there is a difference. The invasion brings urgency to our actions, and this is a ceremony in which we can produce real power, summoning the Goddess to our aid. The feelings you experience here as you participate, and even as you observe will be the fuel to light our efforts. Carorna and I, and Taregir will be directing the flow of psychic energy to fellow priests and priestesses in the North. It will be used to rebuild shattered lives, to contain the foreign magics, to turn the hearts of the invaders, and to sweep back the enemies. I ask you to clear your minds of daily troubles, to concentrate upon the great task at hand. Give yourselves fully to the feelings and joys of our communal celebration, hold nothing back. Truly believe in the Goddess. It is in producing powerful feelings we can produce great power, which may save all our lives. There is much effort ahead of us. In our period of greatest risk you will all be called upon to produce healing and magic more frequently than before. We will hold these ceremonies and all others which may produce what we need, and the aid of the Goddess, as often as we may."

Dianorla was astounded at this bleak news. There was much she did not know, had never even guessed. Why had she known nothing of this invasion? Had any of the ordinary priestesses and priests known? Looking around she could sense the hushed shock amongst them, and sense the sudden interest generated by this shattering news. But looking at the reaction in the faces, perhaps there were some who had heard rumours of these events in the distant north. She had heard of Animar the continent. She knew it lay northward, far across the sea, but she knew little of its geography or exactly how far away it was. Few of the people of Shalirion had ever been there. These things were not important in the education of a priestess. She was more interested in these matters than most of the priestesses around her and yet she had no idea that the Empire might be close to collapse. Nothing had been said to her ears in Sharlan. The worship of the Goddess was all, the provision of the comforts of life and the raising of new generations. Nothing else seemed important here. Her head began to fill with questions. She had rarely felt there to be much magic involved in these ceremonies. Perhaps that was why her belief in the Goddess had become so rational and distant. She was amazed to hear the declarations of these High Priestesses which implied a strong belief in all the words of the books, and even regarded the magic of the Goddess as possibly the only way of saving the Empire, and implicitly all their lives. They actually seemed to genuinely believe in everything they said.

Karesa now announced the entrance of the male worshippers. Loudly she proclaimed that this evening the male worshippers came from the farmlands to the north of the city. They were farmers who harvested the food or kept the animals. She announced that many of these men would soon be marching northwards to join the battles for the defence of the Empire. They were dressed in red tunics. Two hundred of them filed forward and positioned themselves, standing on the circle before the altar, below the Priestesses. There was no obvious reaction to this news from the men themselves as they came in. Presumably they had all been told about the war and their part in it some time previously. Many of these were tall men with large muscles, variously long and short haired.

It was time for the High Priest to appear. He it was who officiated over the High Priestesses and everyone present. Taregir was his name, a powerful driven man, one of the most committed High Priests ever to rule in this Temple at least. Taregir appeared in his purple vestments and his High Priest's crown behind the altar on the steps which went upwards. He it was who would choose from among the males which one should be the Giver of the Seed in this ceremony. He came down from above and swiftly strolled around amongst the males in the circle. He walked amongst all of them.

Before long he had selected a man, tall, slim, not overly muscular but attractive, from amongst the farmers. Male Priests came forward from the back to escort the chosen man to the altar. Although privileged he was effectively their prisoner now. He had been chosen and must perform his responsibilities to the Goddess. By tradition the Priests would stand nearby to ensure he did not escape. Dianorla had often wondered why this was necessary. No man selected had ever wanted to escape from their duty in any ceremony to the Goddess which she had ever seen. Why should they? It was an act of pride, an honour which most men never achieved in their lives, to be chosen in such a large ceremony. She had been told that in the past, many centuries before, sometimes the chosen had been unwilling and priests as guards had been necessary to perform the act. She had queried her teachers more closely, asking why they had been unwilling, but most teachers did not understand why themselves. "It was a long time ago," they would say, "Nobody knows." One had told her that she believed that in the distant past enemy prisoners from the wars had been used in the ceremony and they had not appreciated what was being done for them. They had believed they were being led to torture or death and therefore tried to resist. "Who knows," said that instructor, "Maybe they were tortured and killed in those days." It had been an incredible thing for a Priestess Instructor to suggest, not a part of the planned training for Priestesses. The Instructor had said, "Of course I don't know that. I'm only guessing. It isn't something you need to worry about." Dianorla found herself to be curious about the past. These were questions which she would like to answer, but no one ever told her anything and perhaps no one really knew. Those days, if it had been true, had been centuries ago.

The Priests took the man to the leather skinned altar and laid him upon it, then retreated a few steps downwards at the four corners. The man looked towards the other farmers as he lay waiting. The High Priest then consulted the High Priestesses to ask them to choose attendants and a Priestess to carry out her duty. After a brief word the High Priestesses walked down outside the circle and amongst the waiting Priestesses to select the four attendants. Carorna and Karesa were to choose two each.

Carorna went to the left and quickly chose two, chosen often for their pleasing looks although not necessarily so. Ordinary Priestesses did not know the basis on which the

High Priestesses would make their decision. Karesa took her time, she was a relatively new High Priestess and still relished her power. She saw great meaning in the choice evidently.

She chose a girl from the front row, a pretty slim, small dark haired girl. Dianorla waited placidly while Karesa passed her a first time. When she began to approach a second time she began to feel nervous that it would be her. If she was chosen it would be a great honour. She had done it twice before in this ceremony so it did not worry her in any way. It had meant a great deal to her on both occasions but now this evening she was not really in the mood and wished not to be chosen. It would mean standing there in front of all these people for a long time and she would be sure to be chosen by one of the male worshippers if she was chosen as an attendant. Karesa looked directly into her eyes as she came past a second time as if weighing up her beauty. She was surely being considered. Karesa moved on again to the priestess standing next to her. She felt relief but mixed with a certain dread that perhaps Karesa would turn back for her. That would be a great honour, which no Priestess could expect to achieve in their life, although many did. But she did not wish to tonight. Please let it not be me, she actually began to pray to the Goddess, and wished now that she had managed to hide herself on the back row. Suddenly Karesa stepped back to her and laid her hand on her shoulder. "You are chosen." She had been chosen as attendant after all, but she could now feel some relief that at least she was not being asked to officiate. Being an attendant was at least an easy function, a supporting role. She had been chosen and there was nothing she could do. She would have to place herself in a better state of mind.