The Underneath: Saga of Aupolis

By Bells Be Beckoned

"We Beneath the Eyes of the Gods have been spared once again!" rang the tenor voice. "Let us bow our heads and give thanks!"

Vesna lowered her head and silmultaneously heard the growl of her empty stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hoped no one around could hear the embarrasing grumble. Despite devouring everything off the dinner plate Lyren left the night before, the absence of breakfast brought prompt protests from lack of one of her body's routine meals. 

"Oh, Ominous Gods!"

Vesna jumped at the abrupt, shrill praise. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noted with a smile she had not been the only one caught off guard by the shriek.

"We bow our heads in humility of Your awesomeness- of Your mercy! For we, Beneath Your Eyes, are not worthy..."

Despite the previous distressing day, Vesna slept more soundly than she initially thought she would. No nightmares to relive the traumatic experience. No jolting awake with a pounding heart. Just restful sleep lulled by the whisper of the wind through the curtains, and slow rousing by the same gentle hush.

"...may we strive with faithful obediance and unwaivering duty, so that one day Your Presence may walk among us again!"

"May Your Presence walk among us again," the congregation echoed in unison.

The ritual cue given, Vesna raised her head. She blinked a few times to adjust her eyes. The glaring light flooding in through the domed glass roof, paired with the staggering expanse of the Holy Atrium was more than enough to overbear the senses.

"The first question we must ask ourselves today is what caused the unprecedented attack last night?" The voice belonged to the First Disciple, who ranked highest amongst his fellow brethren. He oversaw and ran his order, much the same as the Supreme Mother did- or was supposed to. In her absence, the House Mother predominated.

"These evil demonstrations are nothing new," he continued. "We have seen many of them over the course of our lifetime. Last night will not be the end. But, by the Grace of the Gods-"

"-by the Grace of the Gods-"

"-their protecting hands have allowed us to see the light of another day! Evil sought to reach us, and they shielded us with Divine intervention!"

A pause followed.

"Why?!"

Vesna and a few others jumped at the barked cry.

"The question of why," he proceeded to answer his own query, "is not why the Gods saved us- yet again- but why did the tendrils of evil seek us out? What transgressions have we succumbed to, I ask? How have the forces of evil found their way here? To answer that, we must search within ourselves. We must...REPENT!"

Not for the first time, Vesna marveled at the acoustics within the Holy Atrium. The First Disciple was not a large man, loud spoken, nor even close to where she sat. Yet, his voice enclosed the entire space- seemed to bear down on the entire Atrium. She wondered if he was more commanding for those he was in shorter proximity to, or if the intensity of his voice was her own guilty conscience brimming to the surface.

"...our sins grow by the day, as witnessed by the growing evil that reaches forth its gnarled fingers to clutch our hearts and minds!"

The podium of the First Disciple stood on a small platform directly in the center of the Atrium's ground floor. The sunlight emitted through the glass roof dazzled him in radiance that reflected off his gray robes and hair. He looked angelic, especially when he flung his arms out wide- which he often did. Encompassing him and spreading out in rowed seats, sat the lower class of the Underneath, who took up the entire ground level. The higher-lower class individuals were allowed access to the first story gallery. Each corresponding ascending gallery accomodated the heirarchical odering. The Underneath middle-class proceeded the low on the ground, followed by the high-middle. After them, sat the Garden Residences' household staff. Above them, the staff of the Temple towers. The next levels belonged to the Garden Residents. Only one gallery was needed for the Wards of the Temple, where Vesna was permitted to be. For the most part, the chairs were empty. The ones occupied were by people who lost someone in service to society, mothers who birthed the Chosen Ones, and other anomalies such as Vesna herself. Directly overhead sat the entire phalanx of Comrades, except for a pair that flanked the entrance doors. Climbing onward, the top galleries were reserved for the highest ranking individuals in the society; Initiates of the Daughters and Disciples were at the lowest, followed by the Daughters, and then the Disciples. The uppermost was reserved for the Mothers, who sat nearly awash in the brilliance of the sun shining through the glass dome. The seat of the Supreme Mother, which rested by itself, away from the other chairs on the gallery, remained empty just as it had for as long as Vesna could remember.

"...ask what can we do to become more worthy? To remove ourselves from the evil that seeks us so vehemenanty..."

The Beckoning Bells had rang out that morning at the first hint of dawn. Like clockwork, every society member made thier pilgrimage to the Holy Atrium. For a smooth ease of the seating process, the duty of the low classes were to arrive first to fill the bottom levels of the Atrium. Each prevailing class group would then arrive, one after the other, to fill the rest of the stratified areas. It was a tedious process, as each faction arrived and were herded up the stairs, which coiled around all the floors of the Atrium, and led them to their alloted galleries. The Mothers were the last to take their places, but the sermon did not start until the First Disciple entered with his arms folded and tucked into opposite sleeves, and his head bowed piously. He slowly made way to his podium, stopping along the way to touch a shoulder here or a brow there. A dramatic silence ensued once he stepped onto his small platform. People shifting in their seats, babies murmuring, small voices of children quickly hushed by their parents, and the occassional cough were the only slight noises heard from an entire population awaiting the Words of their Gods as spoken through the First Disciple.

"REPENT!"