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His demise - and the birth of the gods from it - split control of the people more evenly. With the power to finally control their own lives, the populace had thrived, thanking the gods for saving them. Then he told us the most shocking thing of all. People outside our borders didn't always believe in gods, or they worshipped different ones.
The marks on our hands were assumed to be stain applied by priests. The miracles that we all saw every day were always explained away. Inside the temples, it was easy to forget that those sorts of things didn't happen to most people as often as they did to us. Outside the temples, people suffered. That was why they prayed, and it was our job to help them. The gods couldn't be everywhere at the same time, and they existed outside the world we could understand, so their powers were limited, often by the most trivial things.
Yet once, long ago, they had walked among us. Each one had posed for their statue, blessing the artist in their own way. The sculptures had stood in the Temple of All Gods for more than six hundred years, and none of them showed a sign of decay. Now, their power rested with the High Priest of each temple, split with that of the baron who managed that section of land.
Because it seemed that the entire nation had been split like a pie. The temple square - this area in the middle of town that had all seven of the gods' temples - was the very center. According to Levin, the six gods had once stood back-to-back in a circle, spreading their arms before them, and the area in between had been claimed as theirs.
A baron ruled over each. The further away from the Temple Square one got, the wider the swaths became, just like a slice of pie. The gods wrote the laws for their lands, the barons managed the governance, and a portion of the local taxes was tithed to the temple each one followed. That was how our priesthood had the money to maintain itself, along with the price paid for each assignment. Then there were the personal tithes.
A handful of coins offered to the priest himself - or priestess - was a sign of respect, often for a job well done. Amerlee had once told me that Priests of the Body were tithed more than any other, but a part of that had to do with the price of the temptation. A few coins often made the patron feel as if their request would be kept secret, even though they all were. Other times, money was paid if the priest or priestess would need to take time away from assignments to heal.
Yet those from Intuition seemed likely to be offered almost as much. Business deals often made coins trade hands, and while all of our temples served the poor and needy as well, the largest requests tended to come from those who were willing to pay the gods for a little extra favor. I could only imagine things were the same for all the priests in the Temple of All Gods.
The difference was that Temptation worked best in secret. Inspiration, Intuition, Perception, Ambition, and Compassion weren't things to be ashamed of. Ambition to a point, but not nearly as much as the baser needs that drove my own faith: rage, fear, pride, and lust.
When class finally let out almost four hours later, the group of us made our way to the back door where we'd come in. From now on, we were expected to get here on our own, and to be in the classroom every day after lunch. The mornings were reserved for our other classes, and our private instructions would be pushed to later in the evening.
I was dreading the extra work, grumbling with Wraythe about how our grades were going to suffer for it, when Lavin called out behind us.
"Acolyte?" he asked, tipping his head at me when all of us turned. "You boys can go on."
"We'll be outside," Eladehl promised, tapping Wraythe to keep moving.
I turned back to meet up with Lavin. "Yes, Priest?" I asked.
"I was wondering if you'd allow me to see your marks?"
I offered him my hand. The man looked up into my eyes and smiled. A sick feeling quickly flooded my stomach. When his finger began to trace the lines without looking, it only got worse.
"I'm curious which-you've chosen," Lavin almost purred.
"I haven't," I admitted, refusing to yank my arm back like I wanted to.
He still felt the muscles tighten. It made the man's smile grow a little more. "I'm curious how far this lace really goes. Would you allow me to inspect your body? For research, of course."
Warmth flowed across the back of my neck, the sensation almost comforting. It was enough to remind me of all the times I'd watched Amerlee respond with grace when she truly wanted to scream.
"You can see where they end, Priest Lavin," I told him. "I do not have any others. Noacolytedoes."
"But the marks on your skin could tell me so much," he insisted. "Birthmarks? Scars? I'm sure you have those. Even the pattern your body hair grows in often has subtle significance. I'd be more than happy to instruct you on how to read it."
"That would be very difficult, Priest Lavin, since there is no hair below my throat. My mentor taught me how to wax two years ago. She also made it clear that I was not allowed to be examined by any priest without her present until I am eighteen."
His hand stopped making circles against my skin. "Excuse me? But you're in your ninth year. You must be at least eighteen."
"On the Day of Surrender, my father told me to lie. Zeal embraced me a few months early. So I'm afraid I must decline your most generous offer."
He harrumphed in disgust. "Well, then I do hope that you enjoy studying. I was planning to grade you easier for satiating my knowledge, but I think Bode has just changed my mind."
It was the first time I'd ever heard someone blame a god to hide their own failings. That shocked me more than what I knew this man was implying we should do. Yet for a split second, I was tempted. An easy grade in exchange for letting him look at me? It would give me back the time I was about to lose. Nonetheless, I knewlookingwasn't at all what this man really wanted.
"Or Zeal was whispering in your ear," I said, making it sound like an agreement.
He smiled like we'd just shared some naughty secret. "Maybe I'll have to ask about you after your Choosing."
I opened my mouth to respond when a very familiar voice said, "Nari?" It was Anver.
Tishlie was pressed against his side, and he had his arm draped over her shoulders. They were heading toward the back, also on their way outside. I looked over, and my friend must've seen something on my face, because he changed his direction.
