10 - Ceiqa the Priestess

1.EDUCATION

It all began with a mustard seed.

Ceiqa's people had always known these things, but they had never truly understood them. The river Atlahiolakan which ran through the jungle-forest of Araltaixn, the water in it was different, and from drinking of it their ancestors had become different as well, or so the stories told. Whenever her kind made use of their flesh: their eyes, ears, nose, tongue or skin, they would sense, comprehend, the things beyond the things: the innermost shapes, and innermost substances; and there was great power in that comprehension. Those who lived by the banks of Atlahiolakan had almost on instinct learned to harness some of that power for their own purposes, as though it was a part of them. Though those things the common folk knew were but a shadow to what there truly was to be known about the world.

Atlahiolakan was fed by a tributary, the most-hallowed stream in all of Araltaixn, the Celtizelzica, which had its origin in a cave spring at the foothills of the ascending mountains.The water there too was different, but that water was not to be drank from freely at pain of death; only the great priests were afforded the privilege, on special occasion—and only to taste it then. Those who drank from it were bestowed the true sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. Ceiqa had been given the water directly from the source as well, for she too was a priestess.

Ceiqa was found in the depths of the forests by wanderers, rescued; that's what the priests had told her—although she did not have recollection of it. And she was given to the Temple at the heart of the Temple-city Chenolkalten, great capital of Araltaixn. Her one and only home was the palace of the priesthood, as much as a place could be considered so; and the priests and priestesses her only family—but no, she did not have a family. There were the other orphan children taken from the hut-and-hovel folk, to walk the path of becoming one with the spirit of the world; many acquaintances, friends, colleagues, and tutors—but no family.

The Head Priestess would have been their mother, though she had many children to tend to, and a strict and neglectful mother she was. Ceiqa seldom saw her, for the old woman rarely left the Emperor's side; once a year at best she spoke to the orphans to impart tritenesses: cold threat and, or, encouragement. Arulaxtnia and the other instructors were more parents to her and the others than anyone else.

The orphans often relished in entertaining ideas of being the hidden children of the Emperor or of some important tribe chieftain; waiting to be claimed one day and fulfill some great purpose. But it never happened.

The rain canvas above had been drawn back, it was a rare clear and sunny morning. No disciple was absent for Arulaxtnia's instruction that day; no real or feigned sickness. Everyone wanted to lay eye on who the two replacements would be. Stone desks all occupied but for the two soon to be taken up... and four to remain permanently empty.

Empty stone chairs, six; every time the disciples became accustomed to one absence all too soon another joined it; whether by ascension or accident; but neither had been the case with the last two; the two who only had vanished.

They were not to be spoken of and to be hastily forgotten, but her thoughts kept lingering on them, glued to them, she wasn't sure why. The boy and girl; those two whose names were cast out. Their absence was more painful, they were still alive—she assumed—but simply gone. Perhaps banished for some unmentioned transgression, or had fled; deciding to abandon all obligation and oath.

The two disappeared one day during the night; packed up all belongings and left—together—without saying a word or hinting their intention beforehand in any fashion. If they indeed had fled, Ceiqa wondered, had they simply departed together or, together; where would they be now?