The Gods Above - A. Tamaki x T. Mirio

Chapter 2

     The temple smelt freshly of lavender and woodland incense. Small chimes from dented bells that hung above the altar swayed as a cool spring's breeze dusted them. The sounds echoed and carried the incense up into the oculus, and drifted away into the heavens.

     Incense was used to deliver Harwyn's prayers to the gods on Karatos. And in this moment, Harwyn, a priestess of Ituca, was rendering what was due to her gods; Tamaki and Mirio.

     Quiet mutters of prayers fell from her lips, head bent down in fervent devotion. Harwyn's lips kissed her knuckles with every word uttered. Her eyes fluttered open and she blew out the stick of incense. Crossing her arms across her chest, Harwyn bowed reverently, before hoisting herself up.

     The walk down the dimly lit foyer was not lonely. The cool stone against her feet and the soft breeze was welcoming against the arid and hot temperatures this time of year. The sound of owls hunting and nature's nighttime whispers comforted Harwyn on her walk back to the cloister where her sisters lay asleep.

     This time of year, the city-state of Ituca was readying itself for Mirioim. In less than a month, all of Ituca will begin its annual harvest on the brightest day of the year. Mirio, the god of the sun and day, blesses Ituca's vineyards, its main crop. Then, the following day, Ituca would celebrate the darkest day of the year, offering up its harvest towards the new year.

     Ituca was a small Avarian city-state in the west, known for its more arid temperatures and hilly lands. Ituca lay at the bottom of a mountain, rumored that the peak could touch Karatos and Harwyn could speak to the gods. Grapes in Ituca are drought-tolerant and when fermented, create the most balanced wine in all of Avaria. As an agricultural city-state, Ituca was a modest and rural town, its market and dome its well-known attractions.

     In Ituca's market, merchants and traders from various city-states ranging from Krozé in the North, to Huipa and Xago in the South and Southeast came selling incense and other artisan crafts such as bowl and silk. Ituca traded its finest wine for items such as wheat and incense.

     Ituca prided itself in the festivals of Mirioim and Ajiki, as Ituca was famous for its Temple of the Sun and Moon. The priestesses paid tribute to Fer Mirio and Fer Tamaki, burnt their offerings at the foot of the mountain and danced around burning shrouds of Lillia, the plant of the gods.

     Harwyn was not quite ready to sleep. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, and she remembered that underneath a folded cloth in a basket in the kitchen were midnight berries. Harwyn's stomach steered her to the kitchen, craving the delicious fruit.

     The kitchen was poorly decorated; with only a few pots that were shelved on walls along with other pottery and dishes. There wasn't any paint on the kitchen walls like the rest the home, but there were various spice plants and roots that hung from the ceiling and a vase of dead flowers tucked away in the corner by a loaf of bread. There was a open door that led to the valley

     Plucking the berries from the vine, Harwyn pushed it past her lips and bit down, stomach doing loops of joy. Midnight berries had a subtle sweet taste and when she bit down, the juice would gush on her taste buds. If Harwyn ate too much her stomach would hurt and if she tried popping the berries with her lips, it'll taint them a pretty ocean trench blue.

     Deep into her second handful, a younger sister, Wiselia, knocked on the kitchen door frame. "Sister Harwyn?" She called out, barely a whisper. "Is that you?"

     "Yes." Harwyn replied as she slithered through the bead door. She gave Wiselia a look of concern. "What's that look for sister?"

     "You did not join us for bed."

     "I was out in the temple praying. I had no time yesterday with all the gardening."

     "Oh." She shuffled closer to Harwyn, leaning over the table to see the contents of her midnight snack basket. Her linen dress slid off her shoulder and her once tightly woven braid was now loose and prickly. "May I?" Wiselia reached her hand hesitantly in front of the basket opening, waiting for permission.

     With my mouth full I gestured for her to take a handful too. "Midnight berries." Harwyn swallowed. "My favorite snack."

     Wiselia popped a few in her mouth and her face scrunched up in surprise of the sudden burst of sweetness. Her nose did a cute bunny twitch and her brows scrunched curiously, as her mouth explored this new fruit.

     "It is delicious sister." I gave her a knowing look. "I told you so."

     The pair ate together in silence, a situation neither of the sisters felt uncomfortable with. Sharing moments like these with the sisters were precious ways of strengthening the bond of the priestess. Harwyn both stared out to the open valley below, watching as the sea of grass danced to the rhythm the breeze set. A few deer mingled, eating their midnight snack too it seemed.

     She could feel the air almost get tighter, tenser, as the deer scattered and the hairs on her arms prickled and stood at attention. Harwyn eyed the sky cautiously, noting the pitch darkness that swarmed miles away, inching closer.

     "A storm is coming, sister?" Wiselia commented. Our eyes drifted to the heavens where dark looming clouds snaked closer on Ituca. "A rainstorm perhaps?"

     A thunderous boom of thunder rattled the sky and moments after, a whip of beaming lighting struck the ground. "With a pinch of thunder dear sister." Harwyn chuckled and fed herself some more midnight berries and offered more to Wiselia.

     "Is it a sign or omen?" She asked Harwyn. All younger priestesses were eager to interpret the gods' messages to mortals through the weather, the croak of a frog, or the moan of a hollow tree. "Did the gods speak to you tonight?"

     "They did not," Harwyn said solemnly. "As for if this oncoming storm is a sign... who knows?" Harwyn covered up the remaining berries and ushered Wiselia and herself out of the kitchen. "With the gods, it could just be them settling a quarrel, or -"

     "Or it could mean that we have angered them." Wiselia interrupted.

      Harwyn pinched her nose, chiding her for interrupting her. "The gods speak to us when we have angered them and they warn us before sending disastrous storms. This is merely a storm to welcome the countdown to Mirioim."

     "Sorry sister." The young girl said, her doe-like eyes tearing up. Harwyn walked her to her bed and she sat down, a look of sadness on her face,

     "No need. You are young and curious, Wiselia." Harwyn stroked her hair and rebraided it, planting endearing kisses on her scalp. "Maybe tomorrow, when I'm not drunk on the sweetness of midnight berries and grouchy from sore knees, I will teach you how to interpret the gods through life here on earth." She places a gentler kiss on Wiselia's forehead and lays her down. "But for tonight, sleep to the music of pittering rain."

     "Good night Harwyn." She hummed before turning on her side and drifting off.

     Harwyn splashed cool water from the basin in the corner of the room she and the other priestesses shared, stopping to think about what Wiselia had said.

     A storm is coming.

     It is rare that the gods be silent to Harwyn when an important event such as Mirioim is approaching. Even though it is the mortals who are celebrating, the gods enjoy being the ones to announce and start the celebrations through a sign. Whether it is as significant as a bird perching proudly on a statue or as insignificant as a tiny whisper of wind in a silent temple.

     Thunder cracked overhead and she hastily made her way underneath the safety of her blanket. Maybe tomorrow, Harwyn thought, I will go to the temple again to offer a gift to please the gods, if they truly are angry.