The mighty Cornelian race has once again reached a precipice.
From the origins of near extinction to the height of conquest, from the enlightenment of the great vocation to the consolidation into three kingdoms of 19 islands, Zainox, Kainon, and...
Dawn was still a few divisions away, but Nimrod was already awake. How could he sleep with the disturbing news about Damian? Only three days into the month, and Damian had to be rushed out of the forest, more dead than alive. From his balcony, he could see the Temple house a little distance away, lanterns burning. The plymocks must be luring his soul to tarry with medicine, prayers, and music.
'Don't do anything stupid.' That was the last thing he said to Damian. How did that not include 'Do not fight with a riter'? Nimrod felt a hollow when Damian left for the circumcision exercise. Damian was a necessary part of his life. Now that Damian's life was hanging, he could hardly think of anything else. How could he reconcile himself to losing Damian?
It was now the tenth division of the night. A plymock muffled his ears and dragged a hammer up the cue tower at the center of the temple house. The cue was a series of metal plates connected through their centers and enclosed in a case of air. It was situated at the top of the tower. Once struck, the wind carried its cries far, and all of main Simsee heard it. The plymock struck ten times.
Houses lit their lamps. It was the tenth division of the night; the wake-up call to assemble at the temple house for the gathering. After the fifth division of the night, the cue doesn't sound until the tenth. This cue was to alert Islanders of the gathering which holds every morning on the first division of the day. Day and night were divided into 10 divisions each.
It was time to prepare for the temple. Nimrod felt a rush of anxiety. Hoping Damian was well. Hoping he was getting better.
The plymocks' music wafted somberly across the temple of Mother Earth. It strung the soul gently, plucking notes from somber grief to melodies of enduring hope. Deep pitches of varying dignity punctuated the junctures of this conflict. The temple was soon submerged in the mood prevalent in the plymocks' sanctum, where Damian lay. There was hardly anyone in the temple who hadn't heard of the camper who wrestled a riter to death, and how he teetered between life and death. The plymocks, deliberately rippling the intensity of the situation, sought obviously to involve directly all hearts of Islanders within reach to beg Damian's undecided soul. The air stilled itself for the whole time of the gathering, and the sun tarried somewhat when its time came.
The Temple of Earth occupied the east wing of the temple courtyard. Of particular aesthetic endowment was the bronze embroidery-like motif of the colonnades that ran the east and west sides of the temple. There were no seats. An aisle in the middle separated the men's section from the women. Each attendant must stand on a square called a pand. Pands carried the sign of the eleven, the sign of Harmonism.
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Islanders each stood on a pand, legs on each end. The temple's altar, called the Altar of the Guardians, featured a 25-ace image of Cornelius on the left side and a 20-ace one of Sisa, his first wife, on the right. They held hands in a V that hung over the head of the presiding mystic, a Zihan. Men stood on the left side of the aisle, and women stood on the right, mirroring Cornelius and Sisa. The temple's lights came from the crystals of the sea attached to the ceiling, casting soft golden light that blended with the smooth music, creating a solemn atmosphere.
