Killing (And Other Games)

(Twenty Eight)

(Twenty Eight)

Zane tells me to go home straight away but my first stop is the Light temple. Just before we get back to the waiting room Zane whispers to me, "in the library, in the second draw, there's a master key. Come see us tomorrow."

He doesn't offer another word, following the Guide out the door. I don't wait to contemplate anything. If I keep moving maybe none of it will ever catch up with me.

"Where is the Light temple?" I ask the receptionist, the tone of my voice strange and far away. "Or, I don't know, church or synagogue or whatever."

"Which Light temple?" she demands. Clearly this isn't in her job description.

"The biggest one. The one the Royal family would go to."

She rolls her eyes as she staples a pile of papers together. "I highly doubt they'll let you in there." But she gives me the name of it anyway and vague directions. I walk back through the field, back through the portal, through the plaza and down a lane lit with candles. For the first time ever, I seem to be in a series of connecting tunnels and underground streets rather then one singular area. Small shops and shop-houses line the streets, each one more awkward and quirkier then the last. The inhabitants seem to have made an attempt at livening the dark underground world up with some stripy paint jobs and fake pot plants but it's all dirty and crumbling, unkempt. One thing that surprises me is that most houses declare what species and alignment they are--and most of these poor, rundown houses belong to Light creatures. I can't imagine a proud, dignified Guide living in here, that's for sure.

The temple is at the end of the winding street. It's so old and derelict that as I approach it I assume I've gone the wrong way. But there's a small sign outside that reads 'Grand Temple of the Light' and there's a carnation painted on the crude wooden door. Beneath the carnation, in scratchy writing, a warning is written. It goes along the lines of no dark creatures allowed unless they want to get fried alive by the gods themselves.

I push the door open cautiously, wondering if I'm considered a dark creature, and step over the threshold. Immediately, I see my mind has been tricked. The outside of the temple is merely a front for the incredible piece of art that is the real temple. A round, semi-circle juts up from the ground, every inch of it gleaming crystal. The outside is so bright, so reflective, that I have to squint to see the building. A path of diamond glass leads up to the huge double doors and along the path, as if guarding it, are statues.

I walk slowly, taking in the magnificent sight. The statues must be of their gods; a woman always to the right, a man always to the left. Carved out of white stone, the statues are so well crafted that they look real. One is of a woman extending her hand out, a strange orb-like object in her hand. Another is of a robed man holding a book, each page seemingly flipping as he turns the covers. There are no statues of people with swords or weapons; every statue is peaceful and harmonious. I feel like I'm in the safest place in the world.

At the door, I try to peer through to see whatever is inside. The crystal material of the walls is deceptive in that it looks see-through but only reflects your own distorted image back. I bite the bullet and push the door open, inching in. The idea that I'm intruding on a holy place only enters my mind vaguely and wanders off when I remember why I'm here.

The inside is, if it's even possible, more incredible then the outside. Instead of the flashy exterior, the interior has a dark, calm feel to it. The floor is black glass and the only light comes from the thousands of candles that sit around the edge of the room. Two huge statues, the man and woman again, made of some grey stone, are at the head of the room and a few people are knelt before them. The silence is so thick it's engulfing.