Closed [The Temple of All Gods] Simple Worship

[Millie]

Ninth Bell, 21st of Autumn, 515 AV
At the Temple

Millie was feeling alert and awake that morning. Despite the cool feeling in the air, and that dreadful row she'd heard between lovers in the early hours, the woman was surprisingly focussed, as she brushed her long, curly hair into a low bun at the nape of her neck. She knew exactly what she wanted to do today, and it was the perfect day for it. She was determined and dedicated, ever since she'd woken up. Dressing up in her usual dark clothes, Millie wrapped a long scarf around her neck to keep out the chill, and stepped through the corridors and twisting alleyways of Syliras, heading to one of her favourite places of all time, the Temple.

The streets were relatively quiet that morning, and so she reached the temple by the ninth bell, gazing at the familiar wooden doors, open as they usually were, inviting her in to praise the deities that she so dearly loved. It was strange, she thought, that only a few years ago she wouldn't have thought about the gods half as much as she did now, but it seemed only natural that she would, now. The gods were everything, sustaining the world, letting us mere mortals survive when surely mortality, and death, was in their palm, to control as they did everything else.

Yes, Millie was fully devoted to worshipping the gods. She believed, and that wasn't an empty statement, she fully and totally believed. Which was why she was hurried to her usual pew, kneeling down with her knees bent on the hard floor, her hands clasped in front of her in a private beseechment to the first god that she had thought of that morning as she'd woken up: Cheva.

She didn't talk out loud, for whenever she'd been in the temple and someone had been talking, she knew just how irritating it was for her own prayers to be talked over. Plus, she thought that the gods didn't want to hear her lowly voice, so she vocalised her prayer internally, knowing that the gods knew her heart and mind.

Cheva, oh greatest and most loving of goddesses, please hear my prayer. I offer you my heart as a token of my appreciation of you. Please heal the rift between the lovers I overheard, make them well and safe and loving. Please hear me. The woman had her eyes firmly shut, but as a small shaft of light filtered through the panes of coloured glass, she opened her eyes, marvelling at what she thought was a sign from Cheva, or perhaps Syna, although the woman didn't pay much attention to that goddess.

Oh goddess... Please bless me and give me love, bring back my lover who left me. As she said it, the mostly empty temple suddenly echoed with the sound of feet dancing on the stone, a shuffling and whirling sound which Millie tried to block out, to no avail. The noise the strangers feet were making sounded like a death rasp, or someone running from something. It was all too much for the woman, who believed in signs from the gods with a fierceness.

For so long, she had been thinking about her relationship with Cheva, how she'd loved her for so long and hadn't had anything in return. Oh Cheva, please hear me. Give me, no... I ask, please could I have love. Please? She didn't want to let love go, she didn't want to close her heart off, but.. but... There had been so many signs pointing away from love, away from Cheva. Maybe the deity didn't want Millie's worship, she thought. Maybe she was bad luck to the deity, maybe... But the woman shut off her mind from that, instead sealing her prayer with the usual thought she'd developed for Cheva.

Oh goddess, I love you and you love me. Please hear my prayer, and that of humanity. Thank you for your love. She nodded her head forwards, hoping against hope for some kind of sign, but she didn't hear, or see anything from Cheva, only the dancing of some disgusting heathen somewhere to her right that was disturbing her private worship.

[Millie]

The woman stood up. It was all too much for her. She didn't get angry easily, but... she was angry. And she wanted to be angry, as the noise ached and itched at her ears. She stood up, sharply. If she really wanted to, she could be tolerant, and a few years ago she would have been, but now she just wanted to let herself go, just a little. So she exited the pew she was sitting at, and walked around the pillar just a little, to set eyes on the petching dancer.

It was a he, presumably. His hair was long and pale, glittering in the sunlight shimmering down through the stained glass. His eyes were closed in worshipful ecstasy, but Millie didn't give one petch in all of Hai who he was worshipping, as she let the anger fill her. It was exhilarating, and in a swift motion she felt a love for Rhysol fill her, so stark in comparison to what she felt for the goddess Cheva. He wore a long, trailing scarf, and the garment swirled on the floor.

So she trod on it, watching gleefully as it wound around his neck and his eyes opened in alarm and he staggered to a stop. She knew, in her heart of hearts that treading on a scarf of all things wasn't worthy of being an act in worship of Rhysol, but she still felt a guilty pleasure, a fluttering of her heart at doing a purposeful bad thing. Of course, as the man's expression went from confused to angry, she started to regret it.

"What was that for yeh fool? Can't yeh see I'm dancing? You shouldn't interrupt the worship of the gods!" His voice was lilting and pleasurable to the ears, and Millie found herself listening to the voice but not the words as she stood there. It wasn't until the man shook her, actually physically shook her that she broke out form her trance.

"I... I'm sorry", she said without meaning it. The man could clearly see she didn't mean it, and demanded better from her. "No, I really am sorry. I didn't mean to tread on your scarf. I wanted to ask you to stop because I was trying to pray. I'm so devoted to worshipping... to worshipping Syna", she lied, "that I didn't want your dancing disturbing me. I'm so terribly sorry."

Millie felt... strange. She was confused, she knew that she wanted to feel different, but she'd not put it into practice. She still ached for the nuit man she'd lost all that time ago. Even now, she still missed him. She wanted to feel closer to him, she wanted to feel his presence, and the only way she could think of that, without turning again to alcohol was to become like him. But it was difficult, and also too easy.

[Millie]

I don't know what I want anymore. The woman took her foot off the man's scarf, and he snatched it up angrily and walked off, towards the exit. Once again, the woman had the place alone. It truly felt alone too, she felt horribly alone. A tear pricked her eye, and burnt a trail down her cheek, curving into the corner of her mouth. She licked the tear, and felt it's saltiness, and closed her eyes.

Tam. The name of the nuit man she had loved so desperately clung to her lips. Tam...

"Tam..." She whispered his name to the empty church, and bent down onto her knees right there, on the hard stone floor. If there was ever a time for someone, or anyone to come and give Millie comfort, this was it. But there wasn't anyone, she had no-one, and... With a start, she realised exactly where she was.

Of course, she was wrong! There was always someone there for her. The gods. They surrounded her, of course they did! She blinked her tears away, and sat down on the floor. Cheva, please hear me. I need you. Rhysol too, if you'll have me. Who should she choose? Because in that moment, it felt as if her whole life hung in balance. If Cheva answered her call, then she would devote to being better, she would accept that. But if Rhysol answered her...

Then she would do what she'd thought, some time ago. She would devote herself to him, even if it hurt and confused her. Even if naturally, she would follow Cheva, and feel love and bruise like a normal human being. If Rhysol answered her prayer, she would harden herself. I need to do this. I need to decide, finally. So she sat back, and closed her eyes, and raised them to the gilded roof.