The three of them walk side by side, and, for a moment, I’m speechless by the impression they make. Whereas Mordecai is calm and tall and Cadel deep and intense, Jarek is like fire between them. And not just because his hair is an intense auburn that shines like a flame. When he smiles, he gives me butterflies. His green eyes are expressive, showing his interest, fascination, and blazing anger. He’s as tall as Cadel, his shoulders aren’t as wide, but everything about him is loud.
All three look like they’ve walked out of a story or some fairy tale. Alphas aren’t made like this.
The feeling returns, sneaking up on me, like I’m watching this reality, but it’s superimposed over another one. How do I know him? I’ve never met him before, but I can remember kissing him. I know how it feels when he puts his arms around me and touches his lips to my neck.
It’s insane; it’s crazy.
Maybe this world has stolen my sanity. Or perhaps the sleep deprivation is starting to affect my brain.
I follow them into the building and stop dead, another part of my past colliding with this world.
A half-sob escapes me as I turn in a huge circle. I can’t take it all in. I hear her voice whispering to me at night, talking over breakfast, her eyes shining, hands waving in the air as she talks of a world I will never see.
“I can’t believe it. They are real,” I whisper hoarsely.
Jarek and Cadel peel off to the sides, studying the walls with intense expressions, but I have to take a moment while I regain my composure, blinking my eyes that are blurring with tears.
I laugh and swipe at my cheeks, ignoring the alphas who all turn and watch me, their gazes heavy. The walls and ceiling are covered in symbols, and at one end of the rectangle room is a gold bowl.
They would come from all over and drop their wishes in the bowl of flames, and their prayers would go to their gods, and sometimes, sometimes they would grant one.
My mother was right.
Mordecai starts a fire, not interested in the walls, while I wander around taking in the details I missed. Running my fingers over history. From the entrance, there are three paths. Pavers in a black circle to the left of the building, white to the right, while red stones pave the way straight down the heart of the building.
I follow the white path. For a moment, I imagine I can hear the voices of the people calling to their gods, but then the silence comes back even heavier. What happens to gods if people stop praying to them?
“What is this place? And how is it still intact?” Cadel asks as he stops and stares at a blooming flower. He lifts his hand; his fingers tremble, but then he drops his arm, stepping back and breaking whatever memory seized him.
“It’s a temple for the gods,” I murmur. “I’ve never seen one before, but I’ve heard they were divine places where you could actually talk to the deities. Look, see here? Three paths in this life. This one with the blackpavers representing alpha,” I point to the black, “omega,” the white, “and beta,” the red.
“Why?” Jarek says, studying them in interest.
“There can only be balance in the world when all three walk as one. Black for strength and wisdom to do what needs to be done. White for the omega heart and spirit, the wisdom to fight when fight is needed, or soothe; and red for the blood of the bodies we wear, the beta calm and connection to each other and the world. We are all important here.” I look up at the walls, finding the image of a wolf running.
“I’ve never heard it told like that,” Mordecai murmurs. “What about all the symbols on the walls? Look, here's a flame, what does it mean?”
“The alpha gods are represented by the symbols of what they presided over.” I point to the roof and to the right side. “Each alpha, beta, and omega had an affinity that was the core of what their powers were. Everyone was in balance once. The flame is the Alpha God of Fire. But if you look over there, there’s an omega, and on the ceiling, a beta.”
I sigh and walk over to put my hand on the moon.
“We’re born into a year, and a month, and a day, and that determines which god we belong to, but then when you present as alpha, omega, or beta, you would choose the patron god that called to you. But that was when the years and days existed before the Beta’s Path outlawed calendars. But the gods disappeared, and now we’ve forgotten them.”
“So, what was this temple for?” Jarek asks, running his finger along the gold bowl.
“People would come with offerings, and they would send prayers, requests, ask for guidance on pieces of paper, and burn them. The gods would answer sometimes, or so they say.”
“I’ve heard the Ravage killed them all,” Mordecai says. “The gods that is, and the Hall of Petitions stands empty.”
Jarek shudders. “Creepy. Thinking about dead gods and praying to them. What happens if we pray now; does it go to the beta gods, since they are all that’s left? I don’t want her to hear my prayers.”
I look at him sharply. That thought is terrifying. “I don’t know.”
Cadel is quiet, staring into the fire, his arms wrapped around his knees.
“What do you think?” I ask curiously.
It takes him a moment to realise I’m speaking to him. “Me?” He purses his lips and rocks back. “I don’t know. It hardly matters; we need to survive people. The gods are a problem that we can’t fix.”
