Chapter 1: The City of Glass

Meridia;
Oasis-City Ahel’Hwalem;
Crescent Season of the 5:26th Era of Mortality

A cool wind blew over the evening vista of Ahel’Hwalem and through the narrow streets of the city, which slowly began to settle down for the day. The larger squares and taverns were still well populated by tired workers who were drinking tobacco, tea, and honey wine. But the hooded figure that crept through the dark alleys intentionally avoided contact with them as she made her way towards her destination. Ahel’Hwalem was no longer the same as it was last year when the Hesha still ruled. At first glance, everything seemed to be as usual: the Hwalemen went about their business, the Hwalem Lake was always busy during the day, and the farmers from the adjacent delta to the east brought their goods to the city’s granaries. But since the No’farzand replaced the rulers of the city, an indescribable mood hung over the entire land.
Out of nowhere, these so called Immortals stepped out of the chaos of time and legends and took over the leadership of the oasis-cities. Their connection to the ancient gods, and especially the divine pantheon, made them immediately popular with the predominantly devout population. But there was something strange about them. They came in peace and seemed to be interested in the well-being of the people, but the way they quickly gathered a cult around themselves, filled with fanatical followers, and overthrew the Hesha made them almost appear to be foreign conquerors instead of divine heralds. Since then, the ‘divine’ ones have remained in the former palaces of the Haatmi and other Hesha who also had to abdicate. The so-called “heroes of the ancients” appeared less and less among the people and instead sent their Norites, the often cruel and delusional followers of the No’farzand, as their representatives. And the population was divided between worshipping the No’farzand and remaining loyal to the Hesha. The otherwise rather calm city felt like a powder keg. That was the indescribable feeling that Nasim had had since the new year.
Her slender figure, dressed in a flowing robe, flew along the alleys of the city, constantly keeping an eye out for the newly established guards who increasingly patrolled the city during the day. Partly consisting of the city’s original soldiers who defected to the Divine, partly consisting of fanatics, they were slowly and inconspicuously replacing the old order. Someone like Nasim was certainly on their hit list.
Avoiding the lights from the windows of the houses, she came to a lower cellar entrance along the facade of an old run-down house, which was apparently boarded up with planks. But as she ran her fingers between the dusty sandstone and bleached wood, she was able to simply slide open the square cover. Before opening the door, she knocked a few times in a certain sequence and immediately disappeared behind the barricade.
She found herself in a spacious and dark cellar vault that was only illuminated by a few candles. She pulled down her hood, revealing a young, dark-olive face. Except for a braid tied with ribbons on her head to form a high knot, her skull was shaved bald. Her almond-shaped eyes had a natural dark rim colour and contrasted with her full lips and sharp hooked nose. Other figures emerged from the shadows, and Nasim pulled out a brooch from under her robe. It was a cross standing in a circle, whose upper end was a horizontal ‘eight’, the symbol of infinity. Together, it was the identifying feature of the Sisterhood of Taraneh, of which she was a part.
The figures placed their left hands on the surface of their right, holding both directly under their hearts. Nasim followed suit.
“The almighty goddess protect you, sister.” The other figures also uncovered their faces, revealing similar hairstyles to Nasim’s. They were exclusively women who were allowed to be part of the sisterhood, which was due to a time of exclusion and persecution by patriarchal competitors. In addition to the sisters of faith, some men also appeared, awkwardly making the prayer sign of their shared faith. Simple people from the population of the city. Workers who had agreed to serve as provisional protection for the order sisters. If the Norite fanatics were to find them, the poor devils would hardly be able to do anything against trained warriors, but it would suffice for now.
Nasim also nodded to them with folded hands, and one of the sisters stepped out of the group and laid her hand on Nasim’s shoulder.
“Quite late, sister,” hissed Melile, one of the older sisters of the order, and pulled her towards the other members. “Did you get it?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. I just had to avoid a patrol on the way here.” Nasim pulled out an envelope and handed it to the senior order sister. She opened the letter immediately and went to the fire of one of the candles to read better. Everyone around her waited eagerly as the sister became engrossed in the writing.
Since the No’farzand took control of the country and introduced their Norites as new leaders, the sisterhood has been operating from the shadows. The order, which was associated with the Western Church, had always had a difficult time in Meridia, whose population preferred the teachings of the Old Gods to those of Divine Law. Foreign ideals such as the Goddess Levain of the Western Lands were taboo, but not entirely alone. The Taranhes Sisterhood, once themselves outcasts, adopted the monotheistic new faith and thus secured at least the friendship and financial support of the Western world.
The small order served as an outpost of the church in the desert land and as its historian. Similar to the more established Lex’yia in Meridia, the sisterhood collected knowledge from the Old World. But instead of hoarding it like the members of the patriarchal Lex’yia, they preferred to share the old knowledge with others, following their ideology. After all, the people of the Western Lands are also heirs to the first humans, not just the Meridians. Accustomed to the existence of outcasts, the order did not find it too difficult to go back underground and maintain their position in the country, even if they lacked the military strength for real resistance. Instead, they kept an eye on the situation with the ‘false gods’ for the Church, in the form of the highest mother of the order, and even on the Hesha, who were both currently in exile. From there, Nasim came after a long journey to bring news from the Mother to the group here in the heart of the expanse.
Another sister approached Nasim and friendly placed her hand on her shoulder. It was Leylia, who had a similar status as an aspirant in the sisterhood as Nasim. She returned the gesture and smiled at Leylia.
“It’s nice to see you, Nasi,” Leylia said. She was noticeably taller than Nasim, with her almost black skin indicating a central Meridia origin, unlike Nasim, who grew up on the southern coast. “Everything good?” she asked further.
“Yes,” Nasim whispered. “The Mother sends her best regards and prayers to Levain from exile.” Leylia was visibly relieved and again assumed the prayer posture. Nasim smiled somewhat wearily. Although she was also god-fearing, like all members of the order, she was not as strict as elder members of the order like Melile would have liked. Or even Leyli.
In the monotheistic belief of the Divine Right, there was only Levain as the creator of the world, humans, and humanoid races. She not only gave them life but also the rare powers of magic, which a handful of chosen mortals could and should claim as the ‘divine right.’ Although Nasim had not seen any of these Magi during her time in the Sisterhood, the Divine Right boasted of locating and educating such individuals under the Church’s teachings and training them worldwide. Although the Divine Right was not the only religion in the known world, it was probably one of the most widespread among humans. Except in Meridia, of course. Here, the antiquated Old Gods and the Pantheon of Ten still reigned. The Sisterhood of Taraneh and its faithful followers were thus in the minority.
While Leylia was more interested in the spiritual aspects, Nasim’s focus was on historical studies, which had always been a major part of the sisterhood. She saw herself more as a prospective historian and scholar than as a nun of the rather foreign church. Some magistrates from the west would have doubted the sisterhood’s form of worship to the goddess, but the faithful in Meridia believed that they could worship Levain without strict control of the High Magistrate and giant cathedrals. They were more modest and reserved than their western counterparts.
Melile shook her head, causing her hair to sway back and forth. “Oh goddess, what a task you have laid upon us!” she lamented in a melodramatic tone.
“What does the message say, sister?” a voice from the group asked. Melile turned around and looked at the small group, in which she had to assume a leadership position as the elder. They had taken refuge in an old, cool storage cellar provided by one of the city’s faithful. Here, not only did the small community discuss news from the west, but they also continued their weekly devotions after the already pitiful church on the outskirts was closed by the Norites.
The head nun cleared her throat and said, “Our beloved Mother is worried about us who stayed behind to keep watch from exile. Ours is the heaviest burden, for we are to keep a watchful eye on the false gods.” A murmur went through the group.
“What does that mean, honourable Sister?” Leylia asked, who was still standing behind the smaller Nasim.
“The Grand Magistrate in the Westlands is alarmed by the events in Meridia and wants to know more about these ‘false gods.’ Since we are the only followers of the church on this side of the Waals Mountains, except for the Brotherhood in the Waalslands, it is up to us to observe and research the new enemy.” Discontent arose among the small group.
Nasim stepped forward and said, “Then we should do everything in our power. We are not warriors, neither the Sisterhood nor the Others. But we are scholars! We do what we do best: gather knowledge.”
Melile shook her head again. “Sister Nasim! The enemy is powerful and has eyes everywhere. Even though we are blessed by the goddess, our abilities are limited. The best thing we can do is wait.”
Nasim was disappointed with this answer. Some of the workers grumbled their dissent: “We should at least try to do something! The sister is right.” The group started talking among themselves, quickly creating chaos. As so often, the group was divided between those who wanted to act and those who wanted to wait. Some wanted action, while others spoke of caution.
The head sister interrupted the chaotic debate with a long, sharp hiss, which regained her all attention. “We will do as our Mother instructed us! But that does not mean that we have to waste our lives or that of our community. We are the last guardians in this land! Caution is advised in these days, and we will survive this storm as we have survived others.” With a swinging gesture, Melile ended the meeting. “Now leave me alone to think. We will soon have a clear path determined.”
Melile motioned for the other two eldest sisters to follow her into the adjacent room, while the rest remained uncertainly behind.
Leylia shrugged as she approached Nasim, who still stood in the center of the room. “Sister Melile will come up with something, I’m sure!”
Nasim smiled wearily and nodded slightly. “Goddess, Leylia. You are too kind-hearted for this world.”