Mythshaper

Chapter 12: Tree of Life

Mum wanted the whole baptism and godmother business completed as soon as possible, but she too knew the value of tradition to get it over with. Thus, at the first break of light the day after, we hurried to the local sanctum.

Cold gusts of wind blew, easily finding its way through the loose ceremonial robe draped on my shoulders. I clasped my arms tightly under my chest and crept between my parents. The biting winds would have miffed me royally if not for the cold bath I endured. Thankfully, it wasn't winter. Aunt Emi walked before me; she wore a blue full-sleeved traditional attire, similar to Mum’s, though her hem was not so easy to manage. Counting father, their gait held an air of nonchalance.

The sanctum stood at the heart of the city, protected by two towering walls. The first wall enclosed a large block of land where the city's most influential people resided, including the lord of the city, many noble families, and, of course, the Fabled Knight, who had sworn an oath to protect the sanctum with his life. His immediate disciples and their squires also lived within these walls.

The inner city was far more beautiful, and different, too. Buildings weren’t clustered together, competing for space, nor were there crowds of people. Well, given the hour, we’d be lucky to find anyone on the path.

We scurried closer to the grand hippodrome, marking halfway to the final barrier. The majestic edifice was built mere decades ago, employing the finest builders and artisans. It would be centuries before it would see any wear or tear.

A dozen youths of different ethnicities practised their swordplay in the open field. On another side, a few more meditated, wearing thin, sleeveless robes, their backs straight under the caress of the icy wind.

“Are they…” I opened my lips, faltering midway.

“Squires,” Aunt Emi answered. “Come now, you’ll have plenty of time to peep at them.”

They’d probably be done with their training by the time we were finished, but I did not complain.

Four stalwart guards stood at the final gate, ensuring that we entered through the legitimate way. They took this very seriously, as even a freeholder could not enter the sanctum without a prior appointment, which usually took days to be approved. Aunt Emi had to use her station of a Magus to get our appeal approved last evening.

The innermost wall protected a small plot of land—barely a few acres—which held a vast green field and the sanctum. It stood more like a solitary fortress than an edifice of religious importance. Still, with its walls plastered pristine white, and its form symmetrical, the sanctum boasted a view of contemporary brilliance.