The guard reached out, palm up, waiting for Erich to deposit the token in his hand as he pretended to look at the ring, though he couldn’t have given it more than a cursory glance.
“Prince Erich?” the guard asked, rolling the coin in his hand.
Erich nodded. “I’ve come to see the avatar I’ve heard so much about.”
“I was told to expect you. And who’s with you?” He jutted his chin toward Fritz.
“My valet,” Erich said. “I don’t go anywhere without him.
“It’s rather full inside. Not sure I can make room.” He scratched his chin.
Erich knew this game and pulled out a sack of geld and pressed it into the guard’s hand.
He was pushing his luck, he feared. But Fritz insisted that he join Erich on their mission. Chances were they’d reject his bribe and toss them both out onto the street, or worse. The guards paused for a moment to study Erich, and Fritz looked at them serenely. Erich wasn’t sure if he was good at hiding his fear or if he’d had some vision that made him fearless. Erich was about to piss his pants. These were the same people who’d run him through if they knew the truth.
But the guards stepped aside, allowing them entrance into the crescent-shaped anterior room. A small mural of Cyra greeted them. She was standing in a sunny field, farmers working the soil around her, backs bent as they harvested golden wheat.
A part of him still couldn’t believe it had worked, even as he was shuffled along with the crowd down the hall toward the first ring of the temple. They didn’t even try pressing a revealing stone on either of them as they did with the regular pilgrims who came to visit. This ploy shouldn’t have worked. Knowing the right people shouldn’t have allowed him to gain entrance over the devoted who waited days outside just to be turned away. He clenched his hand in a fist, shoved down his guilty feelings, and followed the shuffling crowd through the corridors of the temple. This was for Liane; he had to talk to her and explain himself. Getting inside was the first hurdle, finding Liane was the next. Given the zealous crowds, he doubted she’d be accessible to the public. This first trip into the temple was likely to be more reconnaissance than rescue mission. But even though he knew that logically, the dragon still protested. He had to be patient. He’d bought them a chance with the guild’s protection, but it would only last until the next time he was summoned to fight, he was certain of it.
The hallway emptied out into a sanctuary where a gilded statue of Cyra greeted supplicants. It was unlike others he’d seen in Artria. This one did not hold a sword, but rather stood, hands cupped in front of her, and large white marble wings spread out behind her as if she might take flight. The ceiling was covered in clear glass, and light shone down on Cyra’s statue, illuminating her in an unearthly glow. He’d never seen her depicted with wings before, but he had to admit he didn’t know much of the church’s lore. The room was stiflingly hot because of the glass ceiling, and sweat trickled down his neck. Pilgrims left offerings in her cupped hands, which overflowed with flowers, baked goods, and fruits. Even more offerings had been left at her sandaled feet. Nestled amongst candles, burnt down to nothing but pools of wax, were smaller offerings of glass beads and other small trinkets. It reminded him of a crow’s nest.
“They made the raven into Cyra. Interesting,” Fritz muttered. “I knew they’d erased the ancients from their history, but I hadn’t considered them repurposing the old statues in this way.”
Erich looked around them to make sure no one had heard him. But if they had, they gave no indication of it. They were all focused on their offerings and prayers.
“Now isn’t the time to be spouting heretical nonsense,” Erich hissed under his breath.
“Did you know, in the legend of the two sisters, the raven took the Golden Blade from Cyra’s cult when they turned on her sister and her followers?” Fritz continued, as if not hearing Erich’s whispered warning.
Erich grasped him by the elbow and yanked him away from the crowd before he got them both killed.
Fritz didn’t take the hint and instead kept talking about the architecture of the hall they were walking through. “This temple used to be dedicated to both goddesses. It was a rarity even before the fall. See how they’ve altered the crescent mosaics, but they couldn’t change the crescent hallway. That’s her symbol. And these paintings are adaptations of the myth of her raising the dead. It’s been altered, obviously. Look at the way Cyra overlaps here. The mortar is thicker and?—”
Erich had to stop him by clamping a hand over his mouth. “Would you shut up? Now isn’t the time to share.”
Fritz stared at him wide-eyed, and worshippers a few feet away gave them strange sideways looks. Erich bobbed his head and pulled Fritz out of the hall and into a central garden with a fountain. It was mostly empty but for a priestess tending to the bushes, but even more importantly, it had no murals or other religious depictions on which Fritz might commentate.
“You’re going to get us both killed,” Erich said in a low tone.
“Forgive me. I’ve read about this temple since I was a child. It’s a religious site my people thought was lost for good. It was one of the largest temples to dual moon and sun worship. It’s fascinating and horrifying to see how they’ve retroactively erased the Moon Goddess from the art and architecture.”
“Don’t you fear they’ll discover you when you talk like that?”
Fritz frowned. “They’re too absorbed in their own pursuits. You saw the type of people they let in here, the rich and self-important…” There was a hint of bitterness in his tone.
Erich stared at him, gobsmacked. He was right, but still…
“You’re right. I lost myself. I was a priest once, and seeing this place, feeling the magic here, however faint… I spoke out of turn. It won’t happen again.”
Further conversation was diverted when a loud announcement rang out through the halls. “Make way for the avatar; make way, the avatar comes!”
The halls flowed with bodies as the crowd surged toward the direction the call had come from. Erich and Fritz shared a wordless look before following. The crowd gathered in a crescent-shaped courtyard and stared up at a marble balcony twenty feet in the air. The pilgrims stood at the foot of it, their hands upturned as if to catch something. The crier he’d heard was standing on the balcony, a veiled figure.
“Behold the goddess’ chosen,” he said, and the crowd surged forward, pushing bodies against the stone, crushing people in their desperation to reach a figure they could never touch. Erich held his breath, waiting for her to appear. The curtain was pulled back, and two figures stepped out. He knew the veiled woman the moment his eyes fell upon her, as if some invisible thread around his heart pulled taut. The second figure was the Avatheos in his full raiment.
The people screamed and shouted for them, raising their hands up to reach for her as if they could catch onto her from a far distance. Liane flinched away at the sound of their voices, and it made the dragon uneasy.
“You who’ve come in search of light and healing, look upon the goddess’ chosen avatar and be blessed.” The Avatheos’ voice boomed around the courtyard, and the people screamed.
