The next day, I woke to the sun shining brightly in my room. I swung out of my cot and stretched. I had overslept by my father's standards if I had been working in the forge. This new sense of freedom was very different from what I was used to.
I dressed for the day before heading downstairs to have breakfast. My mother was tending the pot as I rounded the corner smelling porridge and fresh baked bread.
"Breakfast is done if you are hungry."
"Thank you," I said sitting down.
"Omand came calling for you earlier. He said that you were welcome at the temple while you heal."
I took a bite of bread. Being around the Shaman's could do me some good. Maybe I could learn to read some basic script and it would keep me busy while I was unable to continue my apprenticeship as a blacksmith.
"Is that alright by father?"
"Aye. He doesn't want you too idle while you heal."
"Thank you and... mother?"
"Aye?"she asked turning to face me.
"I'm sorry if I sounded ungrateful for all you've done for me."
She walked over to me wrapping me in an awkward hug from behind.
"It is forgiven, Jaspen."
I smiled before eating the rest of my breakfast and walking towards the temple. I had tried to run, but my ribs had told me that I shouldn't do that. The steps were steeper than I remembered as I made my way up. People knocked into me that were in a greater hurry than me as well as a few of them doing it on purpose merely due to the fact I am a Raksheesh. The building looked like it had been built by the gods themselves. I walked in feeling myself being filled with wonder and awe.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim torch light. The shaman's were just about to start their morning circle where they chanted. However, I did not see Oman anywhere in sight. I walked around the alters hoping that maybe I would find him that way, but I didn't.
"Can I help you, young one? You seem lost," asked someone touching my shoulder.
I looked at the boy that was at least three years older than myself.
"I'm looking for Omand- he's a bringer of things."
He thought for a moment.
"The Raksheesh child?"
I nodded.
"He's actually undergoing hos purifying ceremony to move up in rank today and cannot be disturbed, but his mentor said you may come. Follow me, I will take you to Shaman Zeke."
His voice was humble and had a sense of balance to it. I followed him across the marble slabs towards a door I hadn't noticed. He opened too a room full of at least twenty scribes of second tier shaman. They all had scrolls littering their desks and seemed lost in the process.
"What are they doing?" I whispered to my guide.
"Translating from old demonic text to our new text."
He led me over to a table with a boy around his same age with light brown skin from not bathing in the suns rays. His hair was cut short and hands callused from writing.
"Shaman Zeke, Omand's friend has come."
Zeke looked up after finishing a few more lines and stood up. My guide left silently.
"Jaspen, a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," I said.
"How much of our religion are you familiar with?"
"The gods and goddesses, but not much else shaman."
He nodded already deep in thought. Without another word, he started tidying up his workspace. When he turned on his heel, I followed a few steps behind. We walked out a separate door to the back into a room with folded tan robes, sashes, and robe sandals. He took a robe with a dark purple sash for Ander, the God of Chaos before handing me pair of sandals.
"Put this on and I will meet you back out in the scribe workshop."
He shut the door with a light click behind him before I tugged off by boots. I wasn't wearing a robe without my pants. I didn't care that the shaman went without them underneath. Since I wasn't wearing a shirt, it made it easy to just unfold the robe and drape the thick itchy fabric over my head before tightening it around my waist with the sash of Ander. Placing the sandals on my feet was uncomfortable and awkward. They itched against my foot right away pitching in the worst spots along the top of my foot. I had never felt anything more uncomfortable than a shaman's garb. I also felt slightly ridiculous in what I was wearing, but somehow it seemed to humble me at the same time.
I opened the door back up with my boots in hand and Zeke gave me a quick nod of approval.
"You an put your boots on my work desk for now," he said as he already weaved his way back between the table to his work space.
I sat them where he asked before following him again, this time, back towards the entrance of the temple. The outside natural light was blinding for a few moments as I followed Zeke to the right side of the large entrance. He sat down on a short embankment wall and pointed to the ground in front of him. I sat down cross legged and adjusted the robe.
"To understand why we do blood rituals, you must first understand those who gave us life. The gods created our whole lives and everything we touch. The world was created by their thoughts, the air we breathe with their breath, and the water we drink with their tears. We were created from their life force- their blood which they gave to the first four of our kind- two greater djinn and two lesser djinn. As the gods gave much to us, we owe them much. That is why we do piercings, tattoos, and blood rituals regularly to appease them."
I nodded feeling my mind open with understanding after he finished.
"What of the mortals?" I asked.
"They are a cursed race- one of the first generations of lesser Djinn that had a tribe decided to cast away the gods so the gods took away their special abilities making them live less. They traveled north and settled there."
"And what of the light race?"
"They are the the kinder of the gods and were blessed to be less mischievous then us. Djinn are neither good or bad when born- like mortals and every race we have a choice and they were pure enough to strip themselves of their impurities and become lawful good in balance to lawful bad. An idea that Tamille himself put into place."
I nodded trying to keep this all straight in my head. There was more than I imagined and I was sure that this was the simplest way he could find to explain it. For the rest of the day, Zeke taught me of our creation and why the gods picked us the prized tribe that wasn't doomed to live a nomadic lifestyle. At sunset, he sent me home with my head reeling with information to the point I had a headache from thinking too much. I didn't eat dinner as I was too mentally tired from the amount of information I had been given to process.