Acolytes

Nyella Lichenstone.

23rd of Ianua.

Rhar Mountain Range, Central.

11:52 PM.

***

We've been riding for days without stopping. Carried by these magnificent steeds of leather and steel, we moved continually forward, burning under the sun each day so that we could bathe in Mani's light each night.

Each passed meter gave us a wider picture of this grand realm we found ourselves in. Each step brought us a new perspective. Humbled us more. But no matter how far we traveled, no matter how high we ascended, we seemed to never get closer to the woven world above.

From violent beasts to civilized folk who convinced themselves to be doing good in attacking us to the very air thinning with each step, we faced many trials on our climb to the summit. But so too have we seen many blessings.

So too have we seen many miracles, in our being accompanied by wolves and deer in our travels. In our being guided toward our destination by dozens of silvery moths.

Now, after nearly a month, we faced our last hurdle. A thin pass between towering rocks. The perfect ambush spot, we all were sure, but also certain no such troubles were to find us here.

No, the troubles came at the end of the pass, where a sheer climb to the summit would be endured before we took a final leap of faith.

As it had been the way through, Lady Zakira went first. The roughly six hundred Eomen went next. I came last.

One by one, I watched the devoted murmur and close their eyes in prayer as they walked through the narrow pass. Those murmurs rose to spoken words as they climbed the rock hand over hand and finally stood before their final trial with no fear, trusting in Mani to guide them to where they should be.

And with a final shout to the woven world above, they dove off the mountain.

The last before me were the promising acolytes who proved themselves along the way. Though, they were chosen not by us, but by the wolves and the Silver-Horned Stags that joined us of their own accord.

They were better judges than we, for it took days for me to notice they were the ones who showed fervor in their commitments to helping people, just as they were helped- saved from a lifetime of slavery under duergar. They were the ones who showed an unbreakable conviction to defend this congregation and what it stood for.

"After all this time. Heh, I can't believe how beautiful all of this is."

A wide smile stole any hopes of me verbally agreeing. So instead, I turned to the young acolyte with an almost tearful smile.

He was a young one, no older than our God. But he still held the scars of his bondage and more- displayed them proudly. We all did. He- Lawrence Griffin, was no longer emaciated or dirty. His eyes had the fire of life burning in him once again. But the scars from hot slag left two large spots on the side of his head, leaving significant gaps in his growing hair; shocked from color by stress and trauma.

How at peace he seemed now. His face held a smile of contentment and his eyes contained a sparkle of a million emotions and convictions as he gazed upon the surface.

Seeming to catch me staring, he gave his magnificent companion a firm pat and turned his eyes to me. "I'm still surprised to find a deep gnome adapting to the sun so well."

"Hah!" I laughed heartily, remembering one of the greatest days of my life. "I had the same blessings and visions to acclimatize me to the surface as you did. Though, the sun still stings horribly." I chuckled. "Still, though, it is worth it. Mani's light is beautiful. And the Lord's work is in full bloom, even during the day."

Catching my meaning, he turned his gaze up to the woven worlds dancing above the peninsula. They were both big and small. Tiny specs of light and towering monoliths floating in the sky all the same.

We continued admiring God's work, even while we walked through that narrow pass. Even while we climbed the rock wall. And for some, even as they fell from it.

It was another acolyte. An older woman, Grace Duffy. She was the first chosen by the wolves and worked with them furiously to protect us from harm. And so, with equal fury, I dove off the cliff after her, uttering a prayer to slow her from her fall. But before my words could form into power, I found myself shrunk down to the size of a doll and resting in Amun's cupped hands.

"That's one way to do it." He smiled as if he wanted to laugh, spreading a similar sense of humerus joy through my spirit as I was lifted and placed back on the rock wall, just as I'd been.

Only now, tears befell my face. And Grace's as well.

"Did you see him too, Grace?" I asked, assuming I half knew the answer.

Assuming.

"I did." She smiled wide, still looking up as she climbed hand over hand. "But more, I was shown a grand future. A duty and an honor, bestowed upon me by Mani himself." She fell to her knee the moment she rounded the summit, embracing her wolf while they both looked to the sky with the fires of determination. "I am the thread to the World Weaver's needle, stitching freedom into the lands in his wake!"

"And may those worlds dance beautifully!" I echoed along with the others. And together, we turned to see the end of our pilgrimage.

We turned to see the summit from on high. The summit of the mountain we'd spent all this time climbing was down below, appearing as a once-buried hand surfacing from the grave. And around us was our temple. A floating dais that held no buildings, tents, or holes; only small worlds orbiting around it.

Forests, seas, grasslands, and more orbited this platform- this World Sanctum, placed in orbit around the mountain summit.

On those worlds were apartments, farms, and various other things to allow us to live sufficiently. But so too on those worlds was a sermon hall to coincide with Mani's phases and our prayers. And each one was claimed by a denomination.

On the other hand, this section of the Silverstream forest had only one structure. One spire of Moontear Metal to react with Mani's light.

Here, above the rolling white blanket spread around us, Mani's light was uninhibited as it poured onto that spire, giving us protection, light, and hope. Giving us wings, eyes, and legs.

Ever devoted, were we, we approached that spire before all others, offering prayers to our God before we joined Lady Zakira in acting as sentries next to the spire, watching the promising acolytes like Louise and Grace sort the hundreds of others into their apartments or denominations.

"This is the first of the World Weaver's Temples," she said after a few moments of admiration. "Like Mani and the worlds orbiting it, the worlds he will weave in the future will be different. But just as amazing as the others. No matter where we goes, a world will follow. So, everywhere we go, we'll raise a Temple."

There was no emotion to her words. Only an absolute finality. The same finality one used when they mentioned going to the bathroom. It seemed blunt and insignificant. But it was anything but.

"Yes." I nodded. "It shall serve as a model to all other Temples."

The Silverskin Lady shook her head. "Not just that." She paused, turning to me. "I'll be leaving this place with Amun next year. You will be the Core of this World, Nyella."

"Then you shall have my word," I said, both to her and God. "I, Nyella Lichenstone, and this Prime Temple of Mani shall serve as a model to all others!"

Now she smiled. "Good." Then she turned to look over the various worlds, bringing me to remember the glorious feeling of satisfaction when we shared yet another change to the almost complete Order of Worlds.

"Louis will lead them well." I nodded to the sphere of forests and ponds in the distance. "He has likened to calling them the Silverhorn Herd."

"Yeah." Lady Zakira smiled wider. "The deer made him wiser. He's been teaching people and helped a lot during the journey, making sure people were okay."

"He has expressed great interest in reforming people as well. And liberating them." I added before turning to the Blood Moon of Wolves. "Grace is the same. She and her wolves have been fighting tooth and nail to protect everyone. I'm sure, after some rest, she'll need no convincing to join him."

Our lighthearted talks continued on in the same pattern as the Water World of dual purpose. Two creatures swam in the seas of that world. Cephalopods and Cetaceans. And yet, only the Dolphins and their chosen humans dwelled on or near the few islands on its surface.

Patty Combs and her dolphins had shown fervor in venturing down and across the mountain in search of more acolytes, using their blessings of flight to make contact with as many people as possible and initiate them into the Order by way of the leap of faith.

On the contrary, Nigel and the cephalopods were therapists and healers. In their bubbles beneath the sea, they chose to offer a soothing respite for those troubled and traumatized by the horrors of war. Or anything else for that matter.

And then there was the Eclipse Council. The most complete denomination as of yet, The World of Moths, led by Lula Livingston.

Seers, they were. Graced by the touch of divine moths so that they could give guidance and counseling to others. Be it spiritual, financial, or otherwise in nature. In that regard, Lady Zakira referred to them by another name.

Oracles.

I could only imagine their accomplishments over the coming weeks, but now was a time for rest. They knew it as well as I did, for the lights that flicked on just moments before were blinking out faster and faster. But…

"Is there a world for us?"

She had grown so much over the last two tendays or so. But always, there would be a childish nature to Lady Zakira. It showed after my inquiry in full force. The Silverskin Lady grabbed my hand, only releasing me once we approached the edge and my momentum could only carry me forward. Yet, I dove all the same. Face-forward, I jumped and saw the world open up beneath me.

But I did not fall.

Not down. Upwards, I fell. Up and up and up until my feet landed on solid ground; wherein I turned my gaze upon a shattered bowl of white stone, silver grass, and a lake of holy water. A cirque. One with a cave opening up on the rising slope.

Grabbing my hand once more, Lady Zakira led me into the cave, which became a sparkling annex of crystals and jewels that continued on to a lawn of miniature trees set between two abodes. One was carved into the likeness of an estate with open rooms and the other a gothic castle, both carved out of the white rock itself.

But between them, encased in the crystal wall, was a pristine set of armor that seemed as silver as the homes straddling it. Its metal plates seemed to be without seams, except the joints of course. But even the helmet had a face that bore no holes or markings. Only a ponytail of blood-red hair on the back of the head. And on the chest, a tiny world, beating like a heart.

No. Not just a world.

It was the beating heart of Mani itself. And, trapped in the crystal beside it, was a white robe that contained a similarly beating heart.

A robe for me.