"Avon, the priests of the temple have agreed to try and find the cause behind your sudden ailment."
The boy who was lounging carefree on a chair stiffened at the voice, the brief lapse being the only indication that he had heard what was just announced. His eyes remained focused, never once straying from the weathered book he was flipping through- but the Headmistress did not mind, for she knew that she had captured his attention.
"We shall be leaving for the temple tomorrow. His Holiness, The Silver Oracle will be present as well. It is a great honour for us to have the opportunity to be graced with his presence. Do be at your best behavior."
"As you wish, Headmistress." Avon simply said, his tone monotonous and even.
Headmistress Azael glanced at him one last time, her gaze filled with worry, before nodding her head and leaving Avon to his own devices.
The second she left the room, his three roommates broke into loud chatter. Avon was accustomed to such a scene and simply ignored them all, lost in his own thoughts.
The Silver Oracle was not someone who was easy to meet. The authority he wielded was tantamount to that of a Duke, and he was just as beloved as- if not more so- the King among the masses. Though he used to travel to different temples throughout Argon in the past under the guise of charity, he had long since declared that due to his declining body, he would mostly remain at the capital. His sudden appearance at a temple in a city known for nothing more than its slums was something greatly intriguing.
'Perhaps,' Avon thought idly, 'Something alarming is going to occur soon.'
As though reading his thoughts, Reas plopped onto a chair beside him, his amber eyes sparkling with excitement.
He grinned at Avon, "You truly are lucky. Perhaps you will be able to witness something shocking first hand."
"No matter his holiness' agenda, I am sure that it will not affect me." he said, sparing a glace at the aureate annoyance by his side before diving back into his reading, intent on ignoring his presence.
If only he knew how wrong he was.
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The first rays of the sun peeked through wisps of white clouds, painting the sky with a warm hue as their gentle heat roused people from the throes of slumber. At this hour, the entire town was silent, the deserted streets and peaceful atmosphere blending harmoniously to give quite the novel feeling.
An old carriage stood in front of a multi-storied building. A pair of horses were attached to its front, their gleaming black coats and manicured hooves proving that they were quite beloved by their owner. From the distance, one could make out the silhouettes of two people- one young and one old- as they clambered up the steps of the carriage.
Avon quickly settled himself amongst the simple but snug interior of the carriage, tuning out the sound of Headmistress Azael instructing the driver.
As the carriage jolted forward, Avon gazed out the window with heavy-lidded eyes. In the morning light, his irises seemed to be a deeper ruby than usual, the colour greatly contrasting his pale features. His slim fingers were curled under the fabric of his oversized cloak, chasing for some semblance of warmth. The cold dawn made his breath come out in short puffs, and tinged his cheeks with a splash of red.
Upon noticing that he was cold, the Headmistress quietly turned the knob of an odd-looking lantern placed inside the carriage. Soon, warmth seeped through the cold air, making Avon glance gratefully at the Headmistress.
The journey to the nearest temple would take hours to complete, and Avon wasn't one to enjoy the scenery outside. The languid atmosphere seemed to compel Avon to succumb to the sweet lull of sleep, and soon his eyes fluttered shut, soundly asleep.
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By the time Avon roused, the carriage had stopped in front of a set of large gates. He dazedly listened as the Headmistress explained that it was considered offensive to approach the temple in any way except for on foot, leading to worshippers disembarking a mile away from its entrance.
The towering gates were covered entirely in bronze, their wide girths showcasing panels made with elegant craftsmanship. Religious symbols and texts swirled together to form a bewitching mosaic filled with beauty. The tips of the gates arched upwards as they entwined to form an exquisite flower, the thin metal embellished with uncountable leaves and vines. In front of it stood countless soldiers dutifully herding worshippers through the gates as they kept an eye out for any disorder.
Avon stepped out of the carriage, stretching his body and rolling his neck in an attempt to get rid of his lethargy. He waited for Headmistress Azael to disembark before following her cue and lining up amongst hundreds of people.
The line seemed to crawl sluggishly, and it took them twenty minutes of waiting before they arrived in front of the temple.
If Avon thought that the gates were impressive, then the temple blew his breath away. It was made entirely of white marble, the smooth surface marked with the traces of countless artists. The engravings seemed to shimmer in the light, gold and gemstones displaying the splendor of the monument and hinting at its rich culture.
A grand staircase covered with a thick carpet led to the temple's open doors, which were once again manned by armoured soldiers. Mixed in the crowd were a few figures in white priest robes, the golden and silver embroidery on their cuffs and cloaks revealing their statuses within the temple. Altar boys and servants ran around hurriedly, their expressions tense and anxious due to reasons unknown by him.
The Headmistress pulled at his hand, and Avon snapped out of his reverie, throwing a regretful glance at the dazzling scenery before ambling up the plush stairs, his feet almost sinking into the soft carpeting.
The interior was no less grand, and Avon idly wondered if all the money of the kingdom went solely into making the temples as luxurious as possible.
Large ivory pillars held up a domed ceiling covered in crystals, the light streaming in from the windows striking their faceted bodies and creating a spectacle of beams for his eyes to feast upon. Images from the Ancient Epoch filled every inch of the temple, displaying a macabre battlefield filled with blood and gore- which should have been at odds with the otherwise peaceful atmosphere of the temple, but still somehow managed to elicit a feeling of devotion within its viewers.
A tapestry depicting the Six Gods of Seraph was draped across a wall, drawing everyone's attention with its whorls of rich colour and the life-like faces of the gods. A silver plaque rested underneath it, describing the awe-inspiring scene in great detail.
The gorgeous splendor of the place before Avon had his ruby eyes sparkling in excitement- though none of it showed on his face. He'd almost felt reluctant when the Headmistress led him away from the resplendent hall and into the interior of the temple, that was far less grand- but still just as elegant as- than the main hall.
Soon, he found himself seated upon the edge of a pew, waiting patiently- along with tens of other people- for a priest to call upon them. He leaned into the wooden backrest, crossing his ankles as he tilted his head towards the ceiling. He gazed upon the ivory and gold lines that ran across the inside of the dome, his eyes drooping into slits as he let his vision blur until all he saw were splotches of bright colour.
An imperceptible frown made its way onto Avon's face when he felt a particularly searing gaze bore holes into the back of his head. It was different from the stares he had gotten since he had entered the temple- those hadn't made his heart beat wildly in fear. He whipped his head backwards, only to sigh in dissatisfaction when he realised that the gaze had disappeared, its owner undoubtedly startled by his sudden movements. Eyes narrowing, he pulled at the hood of his cloak, hoping to hide his eye-catching hair colour.
His shoulders relaxed minutely when he no longer felt that uncomfortable sensation prickling at the back of his neck. His eyelids fluttered shut as he blocked out the hustling environment around him with practiced ease, waiting for the time when he would finally be called forward.
Left with nothing but his thoughts, Avon's mind wandered towards his current situation- something that he had stopped himself from dwelling on for too long until now, fearing that once acknowledged, the emotions that he had been barely repressing would well up like a surging tide.
As much as Avon wanted to find out the reason behind his sudden amnesia, he couldn't help but feel in the depths of his heart that the temple had no way of curing him. If it were left up to him, he wouldn't have even bothered coming here- but he found that he couldn't dash the Headmistress' hope into the ground so cruelly, for she only had his well-being in mind.
He could only wish that his gut was wrong and that his situation was something redeemable- choosing to ignore the voice in his head that whispered that he was different, that there was no answer to questions that plagued his mind.
Avon let out a small groan in exasperation, his fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose as he tried to chase away the thoughts and emotions that were slowly clouding his mind.
He spent the rest of his time in a daze, feeling as though he were isolated from the rest of the world- snapping out of it only when an altar boy had arrived to escort them into a priest's office. As he walked behind the boy, a festering feeling welled up in the pit of his stomach, which only increased with the passage of time
He could feel it- this was going to be a tiring day.
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