Powers and Principalities Ch. 1-8

Powers and Principalities Ch. 5

Chapter 5

         It is incredible how the smell of a freshly cooked feast can comfort the starving man as a loving embrace does to one ravaged by loneliness. The smell emanated from large open pits where men darkened by the desert sun worked preparing an assortment of smoked vegetables and meats. The scene laid out before me was teeming with individuals adorned with robes, and curiously there existed a myriad of ethnicities. Among them were several soldiers trying to blend in, reminiscent of the blatantly obvious cop on the side of the road trying to seem ominous with head-lights turned off. Structures were composed of sandy colors and a bazaar was stretched out parallel to the crude road.
         The most peculiar structure stood behind the cooking scene. A ziggurat with a small structure at the top stood near the wall that surrounded the city, and near the location of the aqueduct outside. Several men wearing purple robes were kneeling on its steps. I was pressed to make sense of all this. I was baffled as to the logic behind these things.
         It is man’s responsibility to control science and technology. Obviously this place was largely deprived of it; the primary mode of transportation seemed to be pack animals and there was an absence of visible electronic devices, excluding the soldiers. Some reason had to exist.
         “Sir, I am blessed to have one who bears the holy tabard and bears eyes glowing with light stand at my presence. Are you here to offer your yasn?” asked a humble woman; her voice was strong and clear but warm. Dark skinned and bent with age, most of her face was hidden beneath her grey hair. In my wandering about, gazing at my surroundings, I must have stumbled onto her apparent offering place. Sitting upon the rug before her was an assortment of food. My stomach nearly convinced my brain to have it shoved down my throat before she could realize it was missing.
         “Why should I give my hard earned possessions to the Holy Mother when I have already given my life?” I asked poignantly, and although truly curious about this, my body could hardly pull itself together. The seconds passing by waiting for her response seemed to erode away at my stature. Meanwhile the smell of the smoke coming from the pits came out towards me, killing my will to keep up this facade.
         “My dear, the heat must have gotten to you and you look starved! We must live our lives entirely in devotion in order to remain suitable for Her to dwell in. Why don’t you have some of this rice?” kindly asked the woman. All of her words sounded hollow except the last part, which awakened me. I inhaled two bowls of steamed white rice in a matter of seconds. Food doesn’t taste any better than that. My taste buds absorbed every drop of flavor. My entire existence was halted for this moment.
         I could tell that everyone was waiting for something, and that something finally manifested in the form of Gregorian-style chanting it began with the apparent clergy at the top of the ziggurat and seemed to flow in a wave through the audience. Many people stood with their hands in the air as if trying to soak in something that radiated from the sky. The old woman bore tears from her eyes as she found within herself the strength to become somewhat animated. I was moved by the scene, but felt so dirty for not being able to join in, there was no need for me to hide myself because no-one seemed to even notice anyone else around.
         Going back to the same chorus over and over, the people experienced it anew each time. Once the mood began to mellow a bit, one of the authoritative clergy stepped forward and addressed the crowds;
         “Children of the Holy Mother take heart. Tonight is a night of joy, fellowship, and celebration. We gather on this, the 39th Anniversary of the Battle of the Fallen Fathers, which took place only a few miles from here, what is now the city of Azure, formerly Mecca. This Festival of Servants is held with gratitude to the countless who sacrificed their lives in order to create a place where Our Holy Mother may be nearer to her children—“
         The speech was interrupted by a sudden shouting, with a strained voice that succeeded in booming through the city; “LIES!! Death to the Order! Your words wont bring my fallen father back!! Dues Ex Machina!!” All eyes darted around in vain to find the source. A small object was thrown from the crowd on to the ziggurat and resulted in an explosion. The lead speaker was caught in the immediate fire and torn to shreds, evident by the spattering of blood and bone chips that showered the horrified crowd.
         Quite shocking compared to the completely serene aura that enveloped everything just a moment prior; this event resulted in a confused swarm of epic proportion. Still feeling somewhat starved and incredibly bewildered to begin with, this event did little to ruffle my feathers. Waiting for the next crazy event was all I could do. I walked back towards a small alley and watched all walks of life frantically scamper about. It was as if nobody knew where they were going, but everyone knew they had to run at full speed and yell. So crazy. Of course, perhaps I was for not taking this seriously.
         My mellow finally was terminated when over the course of a blink of the eye; a set of strong arms bound me in place. My right arm was hooked towards the center of my back by another right arm while a left arm reached around my neck and pressed my head up and back. The same arm that held my right arm also stuck a sharp object into my lower spine, just above were a knee both jabbed into my flesh and supported some of my weight. Terrified, I felt my muscles grow limp and disobey my frantic mind. All I could do was listen to my captor’s words.
         “I who wield the blade of judgment am God’s Hand. You will live and experience every second, every drop of pain that your kind has inflicted. Retribution must be made. Mankind demands blood...”