For many days, a student named Lazan Falesny would go to the Temple of Gods.
Following behind Cermin Drychspiel and the monk, Zeriav Mondstein. For never more than 45 minutes, during lunch break.
Zeriav’s glowing blue beads would dangle and shake as he walk. The golden bands around his wrist sparkle much like the many statues and religious artifacts inside.
The Temple was full of such reserved luxury that Zeriav surrounds himself in, ‘Lazan’ notices.
Material objects turn into something more divine. These blank eyes made of marble…. They were looked at directly as if they were people, as if they were entities.
And people would kneel at these large statues. Bow their heads to the ground and cry at them.
Every single room held a different ‘temple’. This was actually more like a collection of different temples, for all beliefs, for all patronage.
They of course go mostly to the room with a door decorated by blue beads. The Temple of Rain.
The Temple of Demitri, his patron god.
“The rainwater washes away the dirt, and seeps through the seeds hidden under the ground. Then, it nourishes it, feeds it, until it grows in abundance.”
Zeriav would tell Cermin all sorts of mystical things everytime they stood before this door.
“Let me be the rainwater that washes your impurities, my friend.”
And Cermin would nod, wanting to be purified.
What happens within that door, no one would have known.
If not for the peephole Lazan planted inside..
Using runes that represented ‘sight’, he had planted several stones inside this Temple of Rain. They were too small to notice, and placed perfectly in several great vantage points.
From there, he was able to witness what happens behind that door.
He learned that Zeriav makes Cermin go under 12 Phases.
It goes in repeat, and everytime Cermin ‘relapses’, he had to repeat from the start all over again.
Cermin would sit in the middle of the Temple, kneeling for nearly an hour.
Around a room full of dark beads that swished and tinkled when hitting each other, emulating the sound of rain and flood.
“What is the first phase towards purity?”
Zeriav would ask as he tower before him. He had already asked this question several times, every single day.
Yet he still ask anyway, because it was part of the ritual.
“Admit my powerlessness to the forces of the dark.”
Cermin answered, and lowered his head again and again.
“I am weak! I am weak! I am weak! Give me strength!”
He did so exactly three times, and on the fourth one he would hit his head as strong as he could. Almost knocking himself out.
“The second.” Zeriav prompted.
“Believe that the Gods will give me the strength I needed to fight off the dark.”
He then clasped his head together, closing his eyes.
He said every single name of the gods in the Highest Order.
Then, he would stand up and look around.
Inside the Temple were small statuettes of the 12 Highest Order gods. Including Demetri, Aurion, Pallas, Vesuvius, Freja and her husband, Ely.
Cermin would bow to all of them reverently, and profess his faith in all of them.
“Third.” Zeriav said.
He was actually holding his beaded necklace in his hand. There were 12 large beads in total, and for every change in phase, his fingers would shift on holding the next one.
Just like how people in the real world pray with rosaries.
“Surrender my will to the Gods as I see fit.”
As Cermin said this, he took off his shirt. Then, he would lay in the center of the cold temple.
Surrendering himself, arms raised to the sides.
“Fourth.” Zeriav stood over him, watching with those eyes with Cermin just laying there.
“Have the courage to admit all my mistakes and impurities to ourselves.”
He closed his eyes while laying there, thinking of all the wrong things he have done.
However, since ‘Lazan’ was not in the same room, he never saw what was running in Cermin’s head.
He never knew what these mistakes were. He can only watch and see what he does in these rituals.
“Fifth.” Zeriav kneels, using his fingers to open Cermin’s eyes.
“Admit to the Gods, to ourselves, and to a witness what we have done wrong.”
Zeriave lowered his ears, as Cermin whispered all of his sins to him. Zeriav would not make any reaction at all, just listening in silence.
“Sixth.”
“Accept how the Gods will remove all my impurities, and not fear it.”
Zeriave stood up, and picked up something.
They were small beads made of glass.
Cermin rattled in fear upon seeing those beads, but maintained his position on the floor. Gritting his teeth to steel himself from what’s to come.
“Seventh.”
“Ask the Gods to purify me.”
Zeriav waited for him to say the words, merely holding the beads.
Cermin breathed in and out. Then, he said.
“Do it.”
Zeriav raised one to the air—
And threw it directly at him!
The beads would break, and wound Cermin with their shards.
Then, water would come out. But it was not water.
It were some sort of alcoholic chemical. Upon contact with the small wounds, it would increase the pain and Cermin would be forced to shout form it.
The small wounds were nothing more than scratches, but because of the holy water, it hurt more. It hurt thousand times more.
After the punishment of rain of beads, Zeriav would let him catch his breath first before saying”
“Eight.”
“List down all the people I have harmed, and be willing to make peace with them.”
Zeriav offered his hand to help him up, as Cermin would cry and say:
“I’m sorry to Volken. I’m sorry to Rabuka, to Pavone, to Edelweiss, to all the people…. My greatest friends, and to my family, to this school….”
“I am sorry that I have been possessed by a monster that harmed you. I am sorry for being weak.”
Zeriav would just nod and say. “And the ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth…. Will be achieved if you continue this ritual everyday.”
Cermin also nods in understanding, and hugs him. “Thank you once again, Zeriav. Please continue to keep me pure.”
“Of course.” Zeriav said. “And what must you remember while you’re undergoing the 12 Phases?”
“To never taint myself and gain any impurities….. from my thoughts, to my actions, to the people I interact with.”
Zeriav would smile proudly. “Yes. You must not be associated with impure people.”
Lazan would always finish watching and listening through a mirror he holds, wondering:
“What are impure people?”
But on this particular day, someone answered back.
“Those born impure like us, of course. Those with skills that trick and deceive.”
He turned. It was a woman smiling at him…
With a half green and half white face and large breasts not hidden well under her revealing clothes.
“Good day, Lazan.” Calla Lily greeted joyfully. “I can’t help but notice you have been going to the temple a lot lately. Since when have you been so religious?”
“You know Artisans like us are not welcomed here. Us impure, vain and devious people.”
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