Valmoran Republic, Planet Kronai, Temple of the Seven

  Matthai Valtrellin, Future High Priest

  The Chamber of the Obelisk held a slight chill, providing relief from the sun’s heat, still trapped in the layers of his robes. The domed ceiling loomed overhead, and stone walls curving up to accommodate the towering Obelisk in the center of the room.

  Seven braziers encircled the room, casting flickering light over the inky surface of the relic.

  As Matthai knelt before it, glowing blue patterns over deep black morphed and mutated, random and endless.

  The sheer size and wonder of the Obelisk made Matthai feel insignificant by comparison. The reverence, the sheer sense of the history of this object which had spoken to his ancestor in epochs past, humbled him. Today, his awe was only magnified. He knelt before it and reached out a hand to caress its glossy surface.

  The patterns on the Obelisk flared as their glow intensified. Matthai bowed his head and waited.

  A voice rang out, as if from everywhere at once ... and simultaneously, as if the origin was within his mind.

  “Words, once spoken, cannot be unspoken.”

  His hand fell from the stone, heart racing, chest too tight. With a sudden wave of lightheadedness, he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the cool stone.

  Were the Gods trying to tell him he should not take his vows today? Or maybe they were warning him he should not have trusted Callum?

  Millions of people waited—just up the stairs, lining the courtyards, swarming the pavilions of the outer gardens.

  Billions throughout the galaxy were watching in real-time—throughout the Republic, the Federation, Ioria Prime, Anaris Station ...

  Everywhere.

  He felt sick. His skin felt clammy, the robes too warm.

  Unmoving save for the too-quick rise and fall of his chest, he pressed his forehead and hands against the smooth stone floor.

  The zanchion tugged at his hair, but he ignored the pain, willing the room to stop spinning.

  Matthai’s mind whirled. This felt wrong.

  He couldn’t do this. It should have been Liyara.

  A tingle rose to the back of his skull, quickly becoming an itch.

  He couldn’t do this.

  Then the quaking began, the first warning tremors as his body prepared to jump away from a perceived threat.

  If he didn’t calm himself, he would jump to the gardens. He would jump back to this room, naked, in a few minutes. But the robes and zanchion were too complex to put on alone.

  Panic clawed at his throat. He couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let everyone see his failure, his weakness. Couldn’t disappoint his parents.

  He forced his mind to stillness, his quaking body to calm. In through the nose—one, two, three, four. Out through the mouth—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

  The chill, damp air filled his nose, and the earthy odor grounded him as he clung to the here and the now.

  “I am here. I am now. I will not jump away,” Matthai repeated the mantra, praying for strength. For calm.

  Eventually, he swallowed, then took a normal breath. Then another.

  Slowly, he raised himself to kneeling, staring up at the Obelisk.

  He didn’t allow himself to think, didn’t give himself a chance to doubt. If he gave himself that opportunity, he wasn’t sure he would do what must be done.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  The Scion spoke his solemn vow to the Gods, stood, brushed off his robes, and smoothed everything back into place.

  Matthai thought of Kat-a-reen’s smile, and his lungs seemed to relax. He didn’t allow himself to worry about the future. Instead, he imagined her face and allowed thoughts of his mate to shift his expression to contentment.

  Then he ascended the stairs to confront his fate.

  After emerging from the Chamber of the Obelisk, Matthai kneeled in front of the altar, head bowed as he waited for the ceremony to commence.

  The High Priestess’s voice reverberated through the cathedral, authoritative and resonant.

  “Matthai Valtrellin, blood of my blood, Scion of the House of Valtrellin, descendent of the First High Priestess of the First Temple, Future High Priest of the First Temple of the Temple of the Seven.

  “217 generations ago, our ancestor discovered the Sacred Obelisk of Kronai. She saw that it was beautiful, and set hands upon its gleaming surface.”

  Matthai’s voice joined the call and response.

  May they shine forever in the darkness.

  There was peace in these sacred words.

  “The First Priestess trembled at the voice which rang into her mind, saying ‘The Second Epoch has begun, ‘and she knew it was the Gods who had spoken.”

  May the Gods speak to us always.

  “She fell upon the ground, and the Gods spoke to her for seven days and seven nights. And the knowledge from the Gods was so great she could not move.”

  May we gain wisdom in stillness.

  “In the darkness of the seventh night, the Gods spoke again: You must not separate those bonded by matehood. You must protect the young and birth new life. You must never harm those gifted with great powers of mind and body. Heed these three commandments and earn the knowledge of the stars.”

  For the stars would lead us to our brothers and sisters.

  “And so she returned to the village where she was struck with a great hunger, and she followed its pull. And the hunger was not for sustenance but for a man. And when she touched his skin, they grew warm, and they were marked. For they were the first of the mates, bonded by the Gods.”

  And together, they led the others to obey the words of the Gods.

  “And they were blessed with three children, and those children held the secrets of time and space. And they knew these children had been touched by the Gods.”

  May we honor and protect those whom the Gods have chosen.

  “And the Valtrellins led the people to obey the words of the Gods, to take comfort and guidance from the words of the Obelisks. And in this way, they multiplied, flourished, and became wise for 160 generations.”

  May we multiply, flourish, and be wise.

  “And the Obelisk knew they had obeyed its commands well, so it spoke again to the High Priest of the age, saying, ‘Arise, Herald! The Third Epoch has begun.’ And he knew it was the Gods who had spoken.”

  May the Gods speak to us always.

  “And the Obelisk rewarded their obedience with the knowledge of the stars, mathematics, and everything great and small, seen and unseen.”

  May our obedience be rewarded.

  “And so it was that seven worlds met one another in the stars. And they traveled far on the paths of the Gods to seek the Obelisks. And they shared the knowledge of the stars with their brothers and sisters there.”

  May we honor our brothers and sisters from the stars.

  “And they knew their Gods were the same Gods and that they were good. And they built rich temples to honor the Obelisks and vowed to keep them sacred.”

  May we honor the Gods and guard the Obelisks.

  “Matthai Valtrellin, blood of my blood, God-touched Scion of the House of Valtrellin, descendent of the First High Priestess of the First Temple, Future High Priest of the First Temple of the Temple of the Seven. Speak your solemn vows.”

  Matthai raised his head, facing the High Priestess.

  “I, Matthai Valtrellin, Scion of the House of Valtrellin, of the 217th generation in an unbroken line of the faithful, do vow to guide and protect the Valmoran people, to respect and obey the will of the Gods, to uphold the sacred texts and guard the Obelisks to keep them sacred.”

  Matthai hesitated, feeling as if he were about to speak an untruth.

  But Scion Valtrellin took a breath and recited the words he knew by heart, projecting them with the confidence and gravity of the future High Priest.

  “I vow to keep sacred the mate bonds, to carry on the Valtrellin line, and to cherish my God-touched sons and daughters. And when it is time, I vow to ascend to the role of the High Priest of the First Temple of the Temple of the Seven.”

  The words tasted like poison in his mouth, but he forced them out anyway.

  “This is my sacred vow.”

  “Arise, Ordained Scion Valtrellin, future High Priest of the Temple of the Seven. May you learn well so you may guide the Valmoran people to peace and prosperity.”

  As he joined his parents in the recession from the Temple, Matthai felt himself recede, shrinking to make room for the Scion.

  Down the stone stairs of the Temple.

  He observed himself walking, as if in a trance.

  Through the crowds gathered in the courtyards, through a door in the outer wall.

  Up the elevator. Onto the gleaming metal ramparts. A roiling sea of Valmorans, as far as the eye could see.

  Forward, to the first oratory platform overlooking the outer grounds of the First Temple. The crowds surged towards the outer walls of the Temple like crashing waves.

  Something deep inside him—something that he had buried deep but could no longer ignore—shattered.

  Matthai screamed inside his skin, inside these suffocating robes—

  I am just a man! I am no one!

  Under the weight of the gleaming silver zanchion and the screaming of the crowd,

  The crushing weight of duty and the secret he bore on his chest,

  The vision of Kat-a-reen, bloodied and broken ...

  ... of Liyara, bloodied and broken and dead.

  Under the weight of all these things, Matthai despaired.

  I will let you down. I have failed you all.

  But Ordained Scion Valtrellin took measured breaths, set his expression in a serene half-smile, and raised his arms to acknowledge the cameras and the adoring masses gathered below.

  Matthai hadn’t felt so lonely—so utterly helpless and hopeless and wrong—since the day Liyara’s blood stained the tiles of the Temple courtyard.