Through the Gate of the Gods Ch. 01

This is all set-up; no sex. Some of the characters are children, but they do not engage in any sexual activity.

*****

"IN THE TIME of our grandfather's grandfather's grandfather," the High Priest began, "came the time of the Great Drought."

He gazed down at the twelve young women hanging on his every word, and behind his white mask he smiled.

"Famine held our fair city in its cruel grip. Disease and pestilence ravaged the people. Our enemies gathered round like vultures, eager to pounce on the corpse of our beloved Mulvadora."

Orchid was spellbound, her blue eyes wide and staring, her hands clasped tightly at her waist. She knew this story by heart-it was the basis of her society and her culture-but to hear it from the High Priest, on this, the eve of her Sacrifice, was a transcendent experience.

"It seemed our city and our people were doomed. Fear and hopelessness ruled the land. The future could hold only suffering, conquest, enslavement, and cold death."

The girls barely breathed, held spellbound by the melodic, dramatic voice of the Priest.

"And then we were saved."

Orchid could feel herself smiling, her eyes misty with rapture.

"Out of the darkness and despair came the First God, Ardell."

"Chulda," she responded automatically upon hearing the Great God's name, as did the other eleven girls. So did their two Teachers and the lesser Priests gathered round them, creating a soft, beautiful chorus.

"The Great God promised Mulvadora prosperity and peace if we would only love him, worship him, pay tribute to him, and have faith in him."

The Priest's masked gaze raked over his listeners.

"Do you?" he asked simply.

"YES!" came the eager, unhesitant reply.

The Priest nodded, satisfied.

"The God kept his word. He brought us his Companions-first, gentle Puldell and bright Startra, the gods of Rain and Sun, to end the drought and nurture our crops. Hard-working Rozelia and wise Newlan, the gods of Farming and Knowledge, came to show us the best ways to ensure bountiful harvests. And vigorous Harstell, the god of Health, gave our doctors and healers the tools they needed to end the plagues."

The High Priest paused for drama, and when he began to speak again his voice was low and ominous.

"When our enemies saw we were no longer on the verge of catastrophe, they howled their rage and frustration at being denied easy spoils-and their armies converged on our city from three sides."

"And we were saved again!" he cried. "Ardell (Chulda came the reply) called on fierce Blazell. With his mighty sword, the god of War threw our enemies back whence they came."

Orchid felt on the verge of sobs. Had any people ever been so blessed?

"It seems that once every generation, some Princedom sees our city, living in peace and prosperity with no standing army, and thinks to conquer and subdue us. Each time, might Blazell answers the challenge!"

"Secure inside our city, we welcomed the rest of the Great God's companions. Tender Darella and caring Tottle, the gods of Love and Children, helped our families thrive and our city to grow. Playful Spira brought joy and laughter to our land, and golden Forbell the gifts of wealth and prosperity."

The Priest paused and bowed his head. It seemed even he was nearly overcome with emotion.

"And finally, when we had proven our devotion, Ardell (Chulda) gave us the greatest gift of all. Welcoming, forgiving Sayennit, the god of Heaven, blessed each of us with an afterlife in paradise."

He looked at the twelve Tributes. Beneath his mask, his eyes were kind, and his voice was tender and paternal.

"You brave, darling girls. You are the key to our city's happiness. You have been chosen by the gods to take as their own. Tomorrow," he half-turned and waved a hand at the massive stone door behind him, "you will go through the Gateway and be welcomed into the bosom of Heaven."

Now salty tears did slide from Orchid's eyes, and her heart swelled with pride at her role, and love for her people and her gods.

"You go with our love, our blessings, and our gratitude. Your names will never be forgotten."

The High Priest dropped to one knee, and after a moment so did everyone else, ending the ceremony with the traditional, silent prayer.

Orchid prayed for bravery. More than anything in the world, she wanted to go through the Gate with her head held high and a smile on her face.

XXXXXXXXXX

That night, after ten years of living at the Tribute's School, the girls stayed in a communal room that was part of the Great Temple.

It was a bittersweet night, filled with hugs and tears. The day before, they had said goodbye to eight of their Sisters. This night, they said their last goodbyes to their beloved Teachers, Lord Sullivan and Lady Clara, who had cared for them, supervised them, nurtured them, and occasionally chastised them since they were first Chosen.

Once a year, after the weather turned cool and the harvest feasts were finished, all the girls of the city that had passed ten harvests were gathered in the temple of Darella. Twenty were chosen to be taken to the School, where they would be loved and protected for ten years.

Then twelve of the twenty would be offered to the gods. The other eight would join the Council of Love, advising the Priests and the city government alike, aided by revelations from the gods themselves.

Girls who had been Chosen but not sacrificed held very high status in Mulvadora, and were prized as wives.

Finally, far later than they were usually allowed to stay up, a very young junior Priest poked his head into the room.

"Five minutes to lights out," he said quietly and respectfully.

Orchid went around the room one last time, hugging each of her beloved Sisters-fiery Magenta, her sharp tongue stilled by the magnitude of the upcoming day; gentle Wisteria, who never got in trouble; beautiful Gem; shy, petite Ornament; dark-haired Midnight, who could make anyone laugh, even Priests and Teachers; Flower, who's smile lit up any room; Lily, by far the smartest of the group; adorable Thistle, who could tease you without hurting your feelings; Heather, always so cool and controlled; Heart, who could always think of something fun to do; and finally her first and best friend Breath.

There were no words big enough on such a night. The girls squeezed each other with warmth and affection, their tears wetting each other's hair and shoulders. They had grown up together, laughed and learned and even fought sometimes.

And tomorrow it would be all over.

Surprisingly, it was little Ornament, usually the quietest of the group, that had the last word as they slipped into their beds.

"I prayed today that we would all be together in Heaven," she said in her soft voice.

Orchid was sure she wasn't the only one who went to sleep with tears drying on her face.

XXXXXXXXXX

She dreamed of her first days at the School.

She hadn't expected to be Chosen. There were dozens of girls prettier, smarter, anything-er than she was. But the gods didn't just pick the smartest or the prettiest. They picked the Right girls.

She could barely remember the rest of that day. She went back home with her family, back to the small farm that had been her home her entire life, and amidst tears of both joy and sorrow, they had packed a few of her things to take with her.

It was after dark, about the time she would normally have been saying her prayers and going to bed, that the carriage came for her. The driver gave her just enough time to hug her parents and older brothers one last time, then helped her aboard.

She stuck her little head out the window and watched her old life vanish in the distance, each thud of the horse's hooves taking her into the unknown, and her tears flowed freely.

There was no one there to comfort her. Alone in the small coach, she wrapped her arms around her knees and silently prayed.

And the next thing she knew, the driver was gently shaking her awake.

"We're here, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was soft with awe. They were at the gates of the School.

She had only seen the School from the outside. No one ever went in except the Chosen girls, their Teachers, and Priests of Tottle.

She grabbed her little bag, and the driver helped her down. Squeezing his hand, she walked towards the waiting Priest.

"Be welcome, dear one," he said as he took her hand from the driver and led her inside.

They walked up a crushed stone path to an enormous door, and she felt very young and very small. Shivering, she clung to the Priest's hand with both of hers.

He smiled down at her reassuringly, and they went inside. It was just a small foyer-all the main chambers were deeper within the structure.

They stopped briefly at a desk, where another Priest also welcomed her and wrote down her name.

The first Priest led her towards a normal sized door.

"You'll get to see the entire facility over the next few weeks," he told her, "but for tonight let's just get you settled in your room."

They went down a narrow but well-lit hallway, and her boots sunk into the luxurious carpet. There was a series of numbered doors, and the Priest opened #8.

"Your new home," he said softly, stepping aside to let her enter.

She was immediately impressed. The room wasn't very big, but it was nicer than any room in her old farmhouse-and it was all for her.

There was a bed, a desk with a chair, three lamps giving off soft light, a dresser, and again the unfamiliar feeling of carpet beneath her feet.

There was one other door inside the room. It proved to contain a small bathroom.

"If there's anything you need, there's always a Priest on duty at the front desk. Don't be afraid to ask ok?"

"Thank you," she muttered, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.

"Would you care for a snack?"

She thought for a moment, and nodded.

"Make yourself at home. I'll be back in a minute."

She put her bundle on the desk and sat down on the bed.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed. The bed was so soft she felt like she was sinking!

She smiled for the first time since the carriage had stopped in front of her old home. The bed was much bigger than her old one, incredibly soft, with not one but two pillows and a thick, warm blanket stretched over a soft sheet.

She rolled onto her stomach, then back onto her back, comparing her amazing new bed to the lumpy, hard bunk with the scratchy linen blanket and ancient pillow she was used to.

There were several raps on her door, making her squeak in surprise, and the young Priest returned. He set a covered plate on her desk and gave her a gentle smile.

"Enjoy your snack, then try to get some rest. I know you're nervous, maybe even scared. It's ok-everyone is at first."

He studied her innocent face. "Tomorrow you'll start to learn what is expected of Tributes. Try not to worry though. I promise you-you're safe here."

"Ok," she said quietly, and with a nod he left her alone.

She went to see what he had brought her for a snack, and her eyes went wide with astonishment.

There was a slice of meat, a big piece of buttered bread, several slices of fruit, and a glass of milk.

His 'snack' was more than she usually got for a meal.

She wasn't even sure what the fruit was. The only kind of fruit she'd ever had before were apples.

For a poor girl from a tiny farm, having more than enough to eat was indescribable luxury. Her little tummy stuffed full, she stretched out on that amazing bed.

"This may not be such a bad deal," she thought, and dozed off easily.

XXXXXXXXXX

She was already awake the next morning when someone tapped on her door.

It was a different lesser Priest, but his smile was just as friendly.

"Good morning sweetheart."

"Good morning your Grace."

"Did you sleep ok?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Good. This morning is the Naming Ceremony. It's sacred and very important."

She nodded again, a little nervously.

"Don't worry. You don't really have to do anything but listen."

He pointed to her dresser. "There's a blue robe in the top drawer. Brush your hair and put that on. Nothing else please-no shoes or undergarments. Then come out into the hall. Understand?"

Her head bobbed up and down.

"Once you come out of your room, no talking. Only the Teachers are allowed to talk until the Ceremony is over. OK?"

"OK," she answered quietly.

"Again, don't worry. There will be plenty of time for talking and questions later."

The Priest slipped out, and she hastily ran a brush through her shoulder-length auburn hair, then slid open the dresser drawer.

Her breath caught as she pulled out the robe. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. A deep, royal blue, it had full, flaring sleeves, and was so soft she couldn't help stroking it for a minute, savoring the feeling of the fabric beneath her fingers.

Eagerly, she undressed and pulled the robe over her head. It fit loosely, the hem swirling around her ankles, the sleeves covering her hands to the second knuckle. She had never dreamed of wearing such an exquisite garment.

She whispered a silent prayer of thanks to Ardell and his Companions, and walked barefoot to the door, again noticing how amazingly soft the carpet was under her feet.

Several of the other girls were already standing outside their doors, clad in the same kind of robe she wore in either matching blue or scarlet. As each door opened and another girl emerged, the young Priest caught the girl's attention and held his finger to his lips, reminding them not to talk.

The girls looked at each other, exchanging shy smiles and nods, until they were all present.

The Priest clapped his hands softly, and waved them to follow.

XXXXXXXXXX

The girls were led down the hall, through the foyer, into and through a chamber so vast and so beautiful it tore gasps of amazement from them, and into a small, white room.

There was no furniture, but two adults stood by the far wall. One man and one woman, dressed almost identically in black from head to toe. They watched, expressionless, as the Priest lined the girls up in tow rows of ten.

"Welcome, girls," the man said as the Priest stepped back. His voice was low and authoritative.

"My name is Lord Sullivan. This is Lady Clara. We will be your Teachers."

The Lady gave the girls a brief nod.

"The Naming Ceremony is symbolic of your new lives and new roles as Tributes. Forget your old name-it is not to be used here."

He gave the girls a dark look.

"Ever," he emphasized.

He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small notebook and pen, then turned and nodded to Lady Clara.

The Lady allowed herself a small smile and motioned to the girl on the far left side of the front row.

"Come forward, dear," she said softly.

Trembling, the girl took a couple steps forward. Lady Clara was very tall, and she bent over, pressing her palms against the girl's cheeks and looking into her eyes.

"Wisteria," she said to the trembling girl, and Lord Sullivan wrote in his notebook.

One by one, the girls came forward and received their new names. Our heroine liked her name-Orchid-but thought some of the others were kind of odd. Breath? Heart? Were those even names?

When Lady Clara named the last girl Ornament, the man put his notebook away and adressed the group again.

"Be proud of your new names, girls," he told them. "They are a gift from the gods."

There were shy smiles and nods.

"There will be no lessons today. Today, get to know your Sisters a little bit. Be kind to one another. You will be together a long time."

With that, he nodded to the Priest, who ushered the girls out the door.

"Who's hungry?" he asked with a smile.

XXXXXXXXXX

IT WAS at that first group meal that Orchid discovered how different her life had been from the girls that grew up in the city.

Her family was among the poorest in Mulvadora. Her parents and two older brothers eked out a living growing corn and radishes on a little farm on the very edge of city territory, a full day's ride from the walls of the city proper.

They had food, clothes, and a roof-but not much else. Her father had built their house himself, and they all shared a single room.

Having her own room-indoor plumbing-hot water at the turn of a faucet-were things she'd never even dreamed about.

So when they set her breakfast plate in front of her, her brow furrowed and she poked with her fork at the unfamiliar foods.

She recognized the eggs. Every spring she'd go to the lake with her older brother and search among the duck's nest for eggs.

"Only one time a year," her dad would say, "and only two each. We don't want to be greedy."

But the slim, stiffs strips of meat? The brown, fibrous mass that kind of looked like a basket? She had no clue what they were.

The young Priest noticed her expression.

"Something wrong, Orchid?" he asked.

She pointed with her fork. "What's this?" she asked, and some of the other girls giggled.

"Really?" Thistle asked her. "You never had bacon before?"

Orchid shook her head, and pointed to the other strange food.

"Hash browns," Thistle answered with a grin. "Hash browned potatoes."

Orchid's expression brightened. "Oh! I've heard of potatoes!"

Now all the girls laughed. "Wow, what a hick!" Magenta muttered.

"HEY!"

The Priest's voice was quiet, but sharp, and it silenced the laughter.

"Never insult your Sisters," he said firmly. "Support them, love them, help them, even correct them if you must...but always with kindness."

Magenta looked chastised. She looked at Orchid sheepishly.

"I'm sorry Sister," she said quietly.

Orchid gave her a friendly smile. "It's ok," she replied. "You're right-I am a hick. Sorry but I've only had like..." she paused and thought for a moment..."maybe eight different foods in my whole life."

Finding herself the focus of a lot of wide-eyes stares, she scooped a fork full of the hash browns into her mouth.

"Wow, these are good!" she exclaimed, and this time the laughter was totally friendly.

When they were finished, the Priest took them back to the hallway that led to all their rooms. This time, they went to the very end of the hall, and he showed them what he called the common room.

There were a few books, a few puzzles, paper and chalk to draw, and almost enough couchs and chairs for everyone.

Orchid didn't mind sitting on the floor.

"All right girls. What I'd like to do now is go around the room and have each of you tell us your name, and which of the gods you have a special feeling for. Maybe there's a big reason, or maybe you just like that one best."

He pointed to one of the girls, who gulped and began to speak.

"I'm Car-I mean Midnight," she said, and the Priest interrupted her.

"Careful," he said softly. "You may not always understand why your Teachers ask you to do or say something, but there's always a reason. Remember, Teachers are called by the gods. We talk a lot about how special Tributes are? Think about this. There are two hundred of you girls here. There's only twenty Teachers."

"Sorry your Grace," Midnight said, blushing.

He smiled gently. "It's ok sweetheart. We don't ask you to be perfect, but we do ask you to strive for perfection."

When she hesitated, he waved her to continue.

"Oh, anyway, I'm Midnight, and I've always felt closest to Spira. What's a better feeling than joy?"

Orchid found herself mulling over the Priest's comment about perfection as they went around the circle. Gem chose Startra "because I love a sunny day," and Flower chose Tottle "because he's the god of children, and I'm a children."

Magenta picked Blazell "because he's the toughest," and for the first time the Priest commented.

"Certainly Blazell is an important god," he said, "and we owe him a great deal, but I'm not sure he's the toughest. The best fighter, obviously, but that's not quite the same thing."