A safe temple in the storm, where fears take rest and hearts find solace.
I sat up with a long stretch and a deep yawn.
"You finally woke up..." came the annoyingly familiar voice. "I thought you'd sleep through the whole battle."
"Oh, shut up!" I sighed, seeing the person who never failed to make my life a little more miserable smile.
Rolo was perched on the windowsill, engrossed in a book. I briefly entertained the idea of testing whether werecats could land on their feet after falling from a height of more than eight stories.
"What time is it?" I asked, still trying to shake off the haze of sleep.
"Almost noon," he answered, closing the book with a soft thud.
"Fuck!" I cursed, scrambling out of bed in a hurry.
"I was going to ask if there's a temple around here..." he continued, not missing a beat.
"What?" I growled, fumbling to pull my shirt on.
"A temple..." he repeated patiently.
"Yeah," I said with a grunt. "There's one."
"Shall we go before the battle?" he asked, completely unfazed.
I blinked, momentarily stunned, then it clicked. He was religious.
"Hey," I started, tying my shoelaces, "I heard that the higher someone's IQ, the more they doubt the existence of God. What's your take on that?"
"You're aware of monsters, but you question the existence of Gods?" he countered, looking mildly perplexed. "To me, that seems less logical."
I couldn't quite understand how the existence of monsters made Gods self-evident, but I let it slide. Arguing with religious people never ends well. They'll get it in their heads that they can convert you at any cost.
"So, shall we go?" he pressed.
I shrugged. "Sure. But first, I've got something to take care of."
"What?" the kid asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Ever heard the saying, 'Those who drink together become brothers'?" I asked, slipping my cross out of view under my shirt.
"There's no such saying," he said with absolute certainty.
I shrugged again. "Well, it exists in hunter society. Before we head into battle, the family gets together, and we drink something bitter as a kind of ritual."
He muttered something under his breath about alcoholics, but I shut him down with a quick slam of the door. I hurried toward the great hall.
Next to the massive ebony doors, Tekla puffed on her cigar. "They've been waiting for you."
I quickly slipped out of my shoes—tradition here, you know—and nodded in her direction as she opened the door. "Thanks."
The great hall, surprisingly small for its purpose, felt heavy with stale air, thickened by the sweet yet suffocating smell of incense. As the door closed behind me, I was swallowed by complete darkness, save for the faint glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling, casting flickering shadows across the room.
The hunters already seated inside didn't acknowledge my arrival. They remained focused on their own thoughts, pretending not to notice. I settled onto the last available pillow, the rough fabric scratching against my skin and soon I had a cup in my hands, a bitter liqueur rippling inside.
"Our family, born from the ancient blood of the noblest hunter clans, stands before you, Sun Goddess," the head of the family intoned, his voice carrying the weight of generations. "With the first drop of nectar that touches our lips, we renew our bond, swearing brotherhood in your name."
He raised his cup, his eyes alight with unwavering devotion. "Fate calls us once more, testing our strength, our resolve. We stand ready, for the time has come to serve you, to prove ourselves worthy of your grace. Let the weak fall away, and may the strong endure, their spirits unbroken."
"Wir sind die Jäger!" the family echoed in a chorus of unity, their voices steadfast, as if the very words themselves carried the weight of an oath unspoken, a promise to the Sun Goddess that could not be broken.
Everyone took a sip of the drink. The black liquid burned my throat, clawing down my gullet, scorching my insides with its fiery bitterness.
In the growing darkness, a few hunters began moving, their steps confident and assured. While ordinary people might have stumbled or groped in the dark, they walked proudly, each step precise.
The first hunter arrived at the altar, standing in silent meditation for a moment before pouring the rest of his drink into the crystal-clear water below. One by one, others followed suit, pouring their own drinks into the water and offering their silent prayers. Some placed their palms over their hearts, while others nodded towards the altar, the imagined deity within, before stepping back to the walls.
I was the last to approach. The altar, resembling an ornate bird feeder, awaited me—and it had to be that way since I was the last to arrive. Without a moment's thought or unnecessary prayers, I poured the contents of my cup into the crystal-clear water.
The liquid swirled in the water, but it didn't change its colour. The water remained as clear and pure as the first drop of water from a fresh spring. Of course, the family had a legend to explain this, that the Sun Goddess's tears were collected here. But I didn't believe a word of it. the Sun Goddess were collected in the altar, but of course, I didn't believe it for a second.
I awkwardly returned to my seat, the tension in the room palpable. We waited, motionless, anticipating the moment when the sun would align perfectly above the Babel.
The head of the family, with a deliberate motion, extinguished the lantern. In that instant, the flickering light died, and an overwhelming darkness consumed the room. No shapes, no colours. Just pure darkness.
Suddenly, I heard a strange sound, like stones being slowly rubbed together, a grinding that sent a shiver through the stillness. I looked up just in time to see a hemisphere first, then a circular opening, form at the top of the ceiling. The moment it appeared, a flash of sunlight pierced through the hole, no larger than a palm. The golden rays of the sun touched the altar, scattering into delicate shards across the surface of the water.
The light danced across the faces of those around me, casting intricate lace-like patterns in the gloom. I felt the warmth of the sun's touch, like fingers brushing against my skin, lingering in places that had long been cold. Many closed their eyes, surrendering to the blessings of the Sun Goddess, basking in the miracle.
I, however, remained still, counting the seconds until it was over.
This brief blessing, this fleeting miracle, lasted no more than a minute, before the light withdrew, leaving the room once again shrouded in shadow. The familiar sound of the stones grinding against each other echoed, as the sun's rays disappeared from the altar.
After the ceremony, my grandfather declared that we'd meet at the entrance to Rosenstein Alley at exactly eight o'clock, then promptly dismissed the family. It seemed like the perfect moment to wake Alex, so I made my way to his room.
By now, his snoring was so loud it could be heard all the way down the hall. If we survived today, I was definitely getting him a referral to an otolaryngologist. The door to his room was ajar, and I couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. Didn't anyone teach him the bare minimum? Like locking the door when surrounded by an army of evil hunters?
I shook my head and, with a bit of mischief, poured a glass of water onto his neck. Alex shot up, gasping, his eyes wide with panic.
"Why did you do that?!" he yelled, his hand clutching his chest. "I thought my heart was going to stop!"
"It's one in the afternoon," I said flatly, and I could see the color drain from his face.
"Didn't you sleep last night?" I asked, exasperated.
He shook his head, looking sheepish. "I was nervous."
Half an hour later, the three of us were walking down the main street. I'd promised Rolo we'd visit the damn church, and a promise was a promise. The street was now teeming with hunters, some just arriving, others already waiting. I'd never seen Rosenstein Alley this crowded before. It felt as if the whole world was waiting for something.
The main street ended in a square, dominated by the four-towered Rose Church. It stood in striking contrast to the vibrant, noisy city around it, its dark façade and elegant late Baroque and Gothic details giving off a sense of somber dignity.
Rolo, however, seemed captivated the moment he laid eyes on it, quickening his pace as he approached. He pushed open the ebony double doors, stepping inside to marvel at the grandeur. Black marble columns stood like sentinels, their cool, polished surfaces contrasting with the gold accents that spoke of a wealthy past. But it was the altar that truly held everyone's attention—surrounded by stunning stained glass windows.
The glass was nothing short of breathtaking, each window like a living painting, its colors and shades shifting with the light. The largest and most prominent image was, of course, the Night God: a dark-skinned, dark-eyed figure with long braided black hair and twisting antlers. He appeared majestic, his presence full and complete.
In his eyes sparkled millions of stars, and his claws, curved like ancient weapons, gave him an almost monstrous appearance. But despite the danger that might have lingered in his form, he exuded peace and calm, an ethereal power that didn't feel threatening.
Beside this one, there were glass windows depicting the creation myth: the Night God and the Sun Goddess locked in an eternal embrace. Their wild, passionate dance symbolized their undying love.
The Sun Goddess, in stark contrast to the Night God, had long golden curls and bright, striking blue eyes. Wherever she walked, flowers bloomed in her wake, birds sang at her smile, and the very wind seemed to obey her every movement. She was the creator of life—wind, rain, earth, and creatures. Her blood birthed both humans and monsters alike. While the Night God created night and death, their balance symbolized their belonging to one another.
Rolo stood motionless, wide-eyed, staring at the Night God's figure.
The central hall was vast, yet only a handful of hunters occupied the benches, absorbed in prayer.
"Did you know they give organ concerts three times a day?" I whispered to him. "It's a tradition dating back to the founders. They were all incredibly talented musicians, but when they played together, people would weep. It was said that they were the children of the Sun Goddess."
"Where did you get that from?" he asked with a sigh.
"From one of our family legends," I shrugged. "Ágota Rosenstein, for example, supposedly had legendary breasts."
Eventually, they persuaded me to sit on one of the benches while they prayed. Even Alex tried to imitate Rolo's gestures, though I knew well he wasn't religious.
When we finally left the church, I couldn't resist asking, "So, what did you wish for from your God?"
He looked up at me with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I asked for you to be thoroughly beaten and for you to die in agony today."
I couldn't help but laugh, but Rolo remained lost in thought, scanning the surroundings.
"I don't see a temple for the Sun Goddess," he observed. "I thought your clan followed her."
I grinned, then gestured across the city with an open palm. Rolo stared at me in confusion.
"The Sun Goddess is the goddess of life," I explained. "And as such, she is also the Goddess of battle. Life is nothing but the fight for survival, after all. That's why her temple shelters the weak and elderly during wars."
A flicker of understanding crossed Rolo's face, but I went on.
"This entire city is a temple to the Sun Goddess."