Maiya spotted some familiar faces in the crowd. The group that had bullied her last time kept stealing glances her way, as did several others.
So. Word of that incident’s gotten around, has it? Great… Maiya thought, envisioning the heckling she was likely about to receive. The Initiation Camp was the perfect opportunity for people to mess with her. Not that it mattered. She had both the elements of surprise and superior means. They had no idea who they were up against. In fact, Maiya even looked forward to it—it’d been too long since her last fight.
Up in the loft, a bald Rector wearing a black robe and a hood spread his arms.
“Welcome. Welcome, all!” He spoke in a soft voice that nonetheless shushed the whispering crowd. “You have done well to pass Initiation. All of you standing before me today have gained the favor of our god. You have potential!”
“This guy sounds more coherent than the other priests, don’t you think?” Yamal whispered into Maiya’s ear.
She nodded. It was odd to see a Rector make this much sense. Then again, the priests had a habit of shedding their sanity at the first opportunity, so she reserved her judgment.
“Yet that is all it is!” the Rector said. “Potential. To unlock it, you must all work diligently to rise through our ranks. And what better opportunity than this very camp? Those who do well shall soar to great heights! Here, you will form the bonds that will carry you. Grow, together, and become close to the Ash.”
The Rector paused to revel in his own words.
“Through a series of competitions, you will be evaluated along three categories. Knowledge of our Hallowed Doctrine, Closeness to the Ash, and Devotion. Come, Initiates! Your time to be bathed in the blood of our god is nigh!”
With that, the Rector ended the speech, stepping down.
“What do you think?” Yamal asked.
“Well, at least it’s not all a surprise,” Maiya replied. By now, the priests’ fervor hardly even fazed her anymore.
By overhearing conversations between the Sisters of Gray, Maiya had gleaned some nuggets about the camp. Like how the first Trial would be the Knowledge of Doctrine. As such, all three of them had practically lived in the Children base’s library, poring over the insane ramblings of the cult.
Despite the tedium, Maiya had hoped to glean some morsel explaining why the Children hated the Primordial to such a degree. It wasn’t just lore to her anymore; the being they hated was none other than Vir, and any knowledge she came across might help him.
So many mysteries remained. Who was the Primordial? What was their purpose?
She’d learned a lot about blood rituals—how to slice open Ash Beasts to consecrate objects with their blood, how to execute a proper chant—but the only mention of the Primordial had been in relation to their god. The Prana Swarm said to lurk deep within the Ash.
The scriptures said it was by their god’s hand that the Primordial would die and that his very existence posed a threat to the world.
Sadly, knowledge of the Primordial wasn’t what they’d be tested on. It was much more likely to be about the minutia of their rituals and the countless other mindless tasks. Knowledge that they’d all tediously memorized.
As for the other two topics…
“What do you think they’ll have us do?” Yamal asked.
The Silent One shook his head, his expression grave. Maiya felt similarly. She had this sinking feeling that their Devotion test would follow the Ash Beast encounter they’d had earlier.
“We can’t know, and there’s no point speculating. Looks like we’ll find out soon enough…” Maiya said, pointing to a lesser priest who cleared his throat.
“The Trial of Knowledge shall commence immediately!” the priest announced. “All Initiates, follow me!”
“Good luck,” Yamal said, his expression grim.
“And to you,” Maiya murmured.
“How many goblets of blood must be poured upon the corpse before the Ritual of Purification can begin?”
“Five,” Maiya replied immediately. “Unless the ritual is being performed on the seventh, fourteenth, or twenty-first day of the month. In which case… eight. One for each prong in the hallowed symbol of our god.”
The priest nodded slowly. “How many times must we circle the holy sacrifice and in what—”
Maiya sat across from the priest on the ground, cross-legged. The room was bare and empty, apart from the two of them.
The priest, like the others, smelled as though he hadn’t bathed in months. His robes were tattered, and Maiya swore she saw caked blood on his skin, though she spotted no obvious injuries. His teeth—the ones that hadn’t fallen out—were black.
“Also seven. Counterclockwise.”
“C-correct.” The priest’s brows knitted, then he suddenly smiled smugly. “On which day of which month did the first Blessed Chosen—”
“Fourth day, fifth month. He never returned from the Ash.”
The man’s smirk vanished.
“What does our god guarantee to those of rank Rector and above?”
“Trick question,” Maiya fired back. “Our god guarantees nothing. Only by proving our devotion to the cause may we one day earn his divine blessing.
“Say, can I ask you something?” Maiya said. The priest didn’t reply.
“All these Trials. All this rigamarole. It’s for finding candidates to send to the Ashen Realm, isn’t it?”
“L-Lies!” the priest spat, his eyes wide with panic.
Maiya cocked a knowing brow. “Please… Even if I’d been bluffing, your expression just gave it away. I wasn’t, by the way. Bluffing.”
The priest went silent for an uncomfortable length of time, and with a shuddering breath asked, “How do you know of this? Only our priests are trusted with this knowledge. How are you so well-versed in our doctrine?”
Maiya gave the filthy man the prettiest smile she could muster. “Why, I’ve always been such a believer!”
Maiya heaved a deep sigh of relief the moment she was outside. She’d passed the Trial with flying colors. That’s how she interpreted the crazed look the priest had given her when he’d finished with his questions at any rate.
Being alone in a room with the fanatic gave her the creeps. Even with the orbs she hid within her robes.
She’d taken a calculated risk in bringing them. She couldn’t say how the Children would behave to having a mejai in their ranks. Would they extol her power? Or would they accuse her of being a traitor?
Maiya couldn’t afford to find out. And yet, she didn’t dare go without them, either. While she might be able to take on a handful of thugs on her own, without her magic, it’d be lucky if she escaped unscathed.
Especially when she had a fan club waiting for her.
“An audience? To what do I owe the honor?” Maiya asked sweetly, scanning the crowd of fifteen men who’d waited in the ramshackle alley, waiting for her to leave her Trial.
“W-what is the meaning of this?” the priest said, shambling out behind Maiya and stepping forward with authority. “Disperse, immediately, the lot of you—aaah!”
Three of the thugs scooped the sickly man up and threw him outside.
“Don’t stick your nose where it don’t concern you,” they said. The priest scurried away, tripping over himself several times.
Not smart… Maiya thought. The bullies might be able to cow a priest or two into submission, but when word got around of their antics, they’d be shut down. If not by a mob of zealots, by the Sisters of Gray for sure.
Guess that means I don’t need to hold back, huh? But still…
Maiya couldn’t understand why they’d picked her, of all people. This felt too organized to be simple jealousy. And they were far too overt about it if all they wanted was to have their way with her. Had they uncovered her true identity? Was there a hidden mastermind behind this?