Guardin's Rest
After a few hours of travel, the Council of 13 had finally arrived to Guardin's Rest. It would have been much faster if they had just flown to island of Istra, but tradition demanded that they sailed. At least the castle was on the coastline. Hira couldn't imagine having to ride on horseback to the castle if it was further inland. It wasn't that he wasn't religious, Hira was about to begin the process to become a god, he just didn't care for useless tradition and precedent. Which the next week would be full of. Although he was a bit intrigued, Hira had never seen the rituals that turned man into god. And he wasn't the only one, almost half of the Avatars hadn't either. Valik died an old man. It was good that he was gone, he was everything Hira despised about the Church, ancient and stuck to tradition. It made sense that Valik walked the Path of Light.
Hira was leading the procession as they crossed the bridge and walked to the main gate. He looked back, the Avatars were in their various clumps, always playing politics with that group. There were two stragglers at the back- Harper and Avatar Keylo. Hira didn't know much about Harper despite choosing her to succeed him on the Council. She was young, only 17, and walked the Path of Shadows. Both things he liked about her. She was also said to be extremely intelligent and pragmatic, two traits that would serve the Council well. From what he knew of her, it seemed strange that she would be training to become a Night Sister. The Sisters were skilled assassins, not exactly the place for someone with Harper's mind. Keylo was a different story. She had actually served as a Night Sister for many years before becoming an Avatar. No doubt she felt a sort of kinship to Harper because of it. Hira had heard that Keylo had been extremely gifted as a killer, she had no equal. Her talent earned her the respect of her superior and she was made an Avatar. Politics and leadership did not suit her. She hated the game of influence, secrets and alliances the Council played. It was because of that Keylo was Hira's greatest ally during his time as Avatar, they both despited their contemporaries.
Hira turned to look as the Widow approached him. She was an ancient woman, her back arched as she walked, her knees crackling. No one knew her true name, those that knew her before she was the Widow were all dead by now. Most simply called her
Mea, mother. Hira felt a fondness for her, she was sly and cunning in a way some of her years almost shouldn't be. She had a way of simply appearing and sneaking up on people when they least expected it. Hira often wondered if part of her age was just an act.
"
Yir (child), are you prepared for the trials ahead?" The Widow asked as she began to walk next to Hira.
"Trials? I thought this was a few simple rituals and some purifications. I figured I have to endure some old men rubbing oil all over my body for a week."
"Ha," her laugh was a high and powerful crack. "To become a God takes more than just oil. This won't be the kind of purification you're use to. Prepare your mind, Hira. They call you Rage Eternal for a reason, do they not? Brute strength will only get you so far."
Strange, Hira had spent his time as an Avatar very well-mannered. Before he left to join the Council, his master had warned him of the same thing.
"Aw, yes. Blade Master Yorik did well to give you that advice, and you did well to heed it. But I caution you again, this road will not be so easy." Hira was shocked, how would the Widow know of Yorik? Seeing the distress on his face, she smiled. "Yorik is an old friend of mine. Few may be old enough to remember it, but I had a long and full life before becoming an Avatar."
"
Mea, you never cease to surprise."
At that point, the pair had reached the main gate. On cue, the large wooden doors swung open to the courtyard. One either side the yard was filled with robed figures, their heads hidden under their hoods. They were kneeling, facing towards the other group. They left a small break that lead into the castle. On the right all the robes where black and on the left they were white. Hira marveled at this. He could tell this monks were all quite old. As church officials grew and matured they often began to understand the dual nature of Crissaar, often wearing robes to reflect this, even if they would never join Crissaar Undivided. A small rarity would maintain a strict observance to their chosen path. Even Hira, with his deep hatred for the Path of Light, still had a bit of white on his robes.
A man in full white robes walked out from the castle towards Hira, his arms outstretched. Arch-Chaplain Worten, the head of Guardian's Rest.
"Welcome to where you shall ascend to Heaven. Come let us make you a God."