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Hey guys! Iââm still hanging in here because Iâve never been able to keep up something like this for this long. I hope I can keep it up, Iâm gonna keep at it. You all help me with your posts too [tagged folks] and anyone who reads this. I appreciate you helping me get the words out. Even if itâs just so I can read them back to myself. :D
7/17/18 Progress: 594 words
Todayâs Progress: 584 words
Total Progress: 7,066/ 10,000 words
Never ever would I have thought I could get this far on my own, especially these past few days. #personal win. :)
Goshen began to slow as they approached the inner sanctum; a dome within the temple at itâs very center which served as the altar for royal coronations, weddings, and other ceremoniesâŚ
It was considered the second most holy and revered edifice on the island. Only the Funerary Altar or the Vedic Gateway as many called it, held more power in the eyes of the priests. The dome was lined with stained glass of amber and hues of sandy brown. Inside cloaked figures often kneeled round a semi circle of stairs which tapered up into an oval dias which held a two story Idol of the goddess Eingana depicted standing amid ripples of water painstakingly carved into marble and encrusted with lapis lazuli and carnelian along her billowing gown. Her smooth serene face wreathed in wavy hip length locks looked tenderly down upon the stairs of the dais with infinite love and acceptance. Her hands were gently outstretched, palms up, welcoming pure and impure alike.Â
But on this morning the inner sanctum was reserved for the queen as it often was. More often, commoners prayed at the shore or at makeshift home altars with miniature idols of driftwood or shells. Goshen opened the door and stepped aside. Upon entry, Ahumai heard the doors shut behind him.Â
Ahumai saw his mother there at the bottom of the stairs of the dais, kneeling on an embroidered velvet burgundy pillow. Her long flowing white gown bunched and gathered at her ankles, blanketed by the pale blue prayer robe she had neatly draped over her head and shoulders. Her eyes were closed, her mouth pressed into a reverential line of focus, and her brows were raised like her upturned palms in earnest supplication.
At one point in time, Ahumai had looked upon his motherâs steadfast devotion with admiration, aspiration even. He struggled to remember that time, call upon it and wear its memory. A ruddy faced child, no doubt, naive and doting. He remembered sitting in her lap, face pressed to her bosom as she stroked his cheek lovingly. There was a time that her fervent prayers made him feel safe. Now it only reminded him of what mattered more to her than he did.
âYouâre late, Prince Ahumai,â announced Queen Amadahy so that her words echoed in the immense chamber.
âGood morning, MotherâŚâ exhaled Ahumai.
She had not opened her eyes yet, but she continued to speak.
âThe priests arrive an hour before sunrise,â she intoned in that deep voice of hers that vibrated up through the soles of his bare feet.
âIâm not late, mother. And Iâm not yet a-â he was coolly rebutted before he could finish.
âBut you will be a priest, High Priest,â her eyes snapped open, âyou should treat this as your very own temple for soon you will have your own. I will not have you embarrass me at Vesta.â
âSo, this is settled then, itâs a sure thingâŚâ Ahumai felt his heartbeat growing louder in his ears.
âIâm sure of it. Thatâs all that matters,â she turned her eyes to the towering figure of Eingana.Â
âWhat of the priests and their reviews of me, what of-â
âWhat of them, son? They needed no swaying.The priests believe you are the perfect candidate. Your purity is marvelous. They say they donât understand how they had not seen it before.â
âBecause you had not told them to see it.â Ahumai felt all his fear rushing into his throat threatening to choke his words. âThis was never a trial, or temporary, to test my ability for the task. I never needed to try so hard - it wouldnât have mattered would it? The outcome would be no differentâŚ
Ahumai couldnât remember when heâd begun clenching his fists, but now he strove not to draw blood from his palms.His jaw set tight, eyes narrowed.
âIf you wanted me gone so badly, they why all the formalities? If you will it, have me gone and be done with it!â
Before he could finish, he found himself storming off and tossing the last bitter words over his shoulder in blind anger. Pain. Rejection.
âYou WILL RESPECT THIS ALTAR!â bellowed the Queen, her voice deeper than the treacherous depths.Â
He could hear the thick rustle of her fabric as she quickly flourished sweeping after him like hungry waves. He turned to face her and met her face to face. The tension in his jaw crept slowly up to his temples threatening a headache.
âRespect be damned,â he seethed, â Itâs you who disrespect me; sending me off to the Mainland like some common impure bastard child. Are you hoping Iâll just drown at sea and wash away your own sins-â
He watched her slap him. He watched her hand rear back and quickly bring heat to his face. He was so angry he wanted it to happen, so angry he wanted to fight. But after her hand left the sting of chastisement on his cheek, all he felt was empty. He wanted only to be blown away by the eastward winds, washed away with the tide.Â
Her serene mask of calm returned.
âRepent of your sins at Her feet, lest your impurity be sullied by these profane emotions.
His eyes remained downcast as she spoke. Each word was like bits of glass embedded beneath his skin.
âFind me when a priest has absolved you. We have much to discuss about your journey.âÂ
She left him then, in a swirl of disillusioned self righteousness.Â
I know it was long this time, but I really wanted to show you what Iâve been working on. This was all in one go and probably rushed a bit pacing wise, but let me know what you think please. All criticism is appreciated. Love you guys.
Peeps who are pretty cool:
@sincerestaffect, @zekethegm, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @siarven,
@creativityflows, @idleunsung, @izraiel, @beautifulimposter25, @writtenhastily