Eridanus shrugged, “Thank you for the compliment Ser Torant, though I’m afraid that I may not be qualified enough in my love for serving Syliras as well as the personal sacrifices asked of the knights for our well-being.” It was a compliment in return, and one that the knight took quite well.
“Anyway, my patrol shift should be starting soon, and I fear that in my enthusiasm of conversing with you I may have dallied longer than I should. Well-met stranger, and may both of us have the fortune to meet Wysar. If fate decrees us meeting again, let us discuss religion further and maybe share a pointer or two in sparring, eh?”
“Well-met, Ser Torant. Fortune smile on you too.”
With that, the knight excused himself from the gathering and exited the temple. Eridanus rubbed his chin as he glanced at the people silently meditating near the shrine, and he gazed thoughtfully at the five letters edged manually on the make-shift altar that spelled the name of the god of conviction. Nodding to himself as if coming to a decision, he silently left the area, walking the huge halls of the temple to find his next target.
This time he was able to find what he was looking for much more easily, for outside of Yahebah the one organization that openly worshipped Yahal was the Syliran Knights.
O Noble One… I have progressed thus far, but I still find myself unworthy of Your ideals. Yet, I strive everyday to match Your holy standards, and I only pray that you do not find my feeble but best-willed attempts pathetic.
The altar was grander, and there were quite some people gathering around the area, though from what it seems besides the occasional benshira the gathering of Yahal’s faithful seemed to almost comprise of knights and squires. In fact, there was an educated-looking man who stood at one of the walls which had some writing on them, and looked like he was lecturing a group of young children.
Eridanus gradually made his way towards the group out of curiosity, and from what he heard the children were pages who were undergoing a lecture about Yahal.
“The writing you see on the wall is a copy of what was written on the Penita Scrolls – which contain words directly from Yahal to His followers. There are only two places where you can find the Penita Scrolls, in Yahal’s temple in Yahebah, or here in Syliras where updates of the Scrolls are sent to whenever He deigns to spread His divine words. The words you see here, is a copy of the copy the Syliran Knights received from Yahebah, and I expect a report on these words before our next lesson.”
This demand was met with several groans from the children, though the man’s fierce glare quickly cut short the groans.
“Yahal represents faithfulness and purity, and He demands nobility and self-sacrifice from His followers. As you can see from this drawing over here, “ the teacher pointed to a mural beside the words etched into the wall, “The man drawn here is obviously Yahal, and He is shown attacking this black mass of tendrils. Can anyone tell me what this thing represents?”
“Fear!” A page chimed enthusiastically.
“Exactly. Fear and corruption. These are the traits that Yahal most absolutely hates in His followers, and though not all knights worship Yahal, we share the same ideals in that as well. As a knight, you must be pure of heart, faithful to your organization, fellow knights and the city, and you must never have cowardly fear and corruptive deceit in your heart and actions. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes ser,” the pages roused automatically.
“You have half a bell to take a look around here, and after which you are to gather at this spot. You are dismissed for now.”
As the children took off in their curiosity to examine more of the words and murals etched and painted on the walls, Eridanus approached the man in an obvious manner, “Hail good sir.”
The teacher sized the vantha up as he approached, returning the greeting, “Hail stranger. Not local here, are you?”
Eridanus chuckled, shaking his head. For some reason he found this phrase most often uttered to him. The crowds in Syliras were the most multiracial and multicultural in Mizahar, demographically speaking, but somehow the locals had some sort of psychic sense as to who were residents on the city and who were merely visiting. He would never know how they knew.
“Do you worship Him?” the vantha asked, jerking his head towards the grand altar dedicated to Yahal.
“I prescribe to some of his teachings, naturally, and as a teacher on religious studies for pages I do know quite a bit about Yahal, but no I am not a follower of Yahal. I am an avid follower of Eyris actually, for She was the one who allowed me to accumulate so much knowledge smoothly so that I could pass them down to the younger generation.”
Eridanus glanced at the altar, remarking, “A noble goal, good sir. I always had the utmost respect for teachers, for without them we as a civilization can never progress.”
“And yet we are never paid enough,” The teacher laughed, though Eridanus suspected it to be some sort of inside joke that only teachers understood. He was not familiar of the pay-scale for teachers, but he heard the exact same words from quite a few of his professors back in Zeltiva University. It was most definitely a ‘teacher thing’.
“I overheard your lecture and might I say it is most illuminating, even if it weren’t meant for me. Excuse me,” Eridanus replied, ending their conversation, for he realized that he had something important to do.
“Take your time, stranger,” the teacher quipped in a nonchalant manner, returning to studying the words on the wall carefully.
Making his way towards the altar, Eridanus looked at the statue placed on the altar. It was either made out of wood, but the most striking thing about the statue was the golden and glittering belt and spear equipped by the wooden statue. This was Yahal’s trademark in a way, for the belt signified faithfulness while the spear signified purity, the two domains that He governed.
We have come a long way together, Yahal. Regardless if I am worthy of Your attention, please accept this little offering as a sign of my dedication to Your ideals.
The vantha took one of the joss sticks that lay in a container on the altar, and he lit up the incense, standing back to look at the statue as he held the burning stick in his hands. He quickly reflected on his past deeds, and with a note of gratitude he placed the stick in the large container in the middle of the altar that held such offerings.
Take care, Holy One.
With that, he dropped several gold mizas in a donation box that would help to maintain the altar, and he bowed shortly in respect to Yahal. Following the god’s path was probably one of the most difficult tasks that lay for Eri, for He demanded utmost dedication to His ideals. Though once immortal, through his dealings with the mortal world Eridanus was quick to adapt to the ‘human’ way of doing things, and over the decades he quickly became more corruptible due to his disappointment in humanity.
His worship of Priskil helped him to see the error of his ways, and taking up the worship of Yahal helped to provide him a personal template, or a set of rules, to follow in terms of morality. It was sometimes difficult to follow through due to the realities of the dangers in Mizahar, but one that he strove to follow as much as he could, nonetheless.
With that, he left the area, seeking out one more part of the temple.
