The Pavillion

The stone floor was cold on his bare feet, but he had grown accustomed to it over the years. At first he had been surprised at how bare the Pavillion was, Xi expected the Elders to surround themself with Fur's and Trophies. His teaching soon set in and he realised that the Elders were the embodiment of everything that a Spiritualist lived for.

A small pit had been dugout in the center of the chamber, and in this a fire burned. The warmth was fleeting however and the stone walls and floor soon sapped away all heat. The flames were symbolic, but the Light was necessary.

Encircling the firepit was the Council of Elders, four wizened men with wooden staves clutched in their hands. In the center of the four stood a comparatively youthful woman,  flaxen hair flowed over her shoulders where it was loosely held in place by a band. In her hand was also clutched a wooden stave, but it was adorned with animal bones and feathers.

Xi knew her by reputation, but not by name. The names of the Elders were closely guarded secrets. For they had long cast aside their labels and now answered only to their True Names. Granting knowledge of your True Name to another soul was to relinquish your control of yourself. As such they were anonymous.

The minutes passed in near silence, only the howling wind outside the Pavillion and the crackling of the fire disturbed the deep thought of the Elders. Xi stood and waited, knowing fully that he would be spoken to in due time.

Eyes wandered and he found himself once more looking at the female Elder, although she did not seem that old. Perhaps what was strangest about her was her skin, fair as a snowdrop unlike the olive skinned Natives here. Legend said that she came from 'The West' wherever that was. She was powerful, that much he knew. It did not surprise him that she was the one to break the silence.

'In four years from this day, Xi. It will be our time.' her voice was calm, but unnerved him nonetheless. 'Our Time?' What did that mean? 'And you shall be leaving on your own Pilgrimage.'

It was over as quickly as that, two sentences spoken to him that had been as clear as mud. The fire had died down after she had spoken and he had taken it that it was his time to leave.

 

The End

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