Imagine an entire hallway, meters upon meters long thronged with people but in complete silence.
This was what greeted Vai Kemer, the ninth head cleric of the God King's temple which made him one of the most influential person in the entire kingdom of Faaland.
He was always a serious man, sporting a long nose bridge and a structured poise with a well endowed height that made him tower over most people when he spoke to them, either in person or in pulpit.
His eyes were seldom seen to open full and mostly observed to remain close, like he spoke in a fixated meditative state.
"My fellow Faalandier brothers and sisters," his voice had this odd tone to it that swayed in an eerie fashion to a side as if addressing a particular group while reaching everyone in earshot.
"I welcome you to the Holy Temple of God for which you have all traveled far and wide. I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that at first. Now let me begin."
He composed himself and easily met the gaze of a hundred onlookers that ranged from peasant to royalty, teenage to elder, child to man and the mighty to the sickly.
Everyone a believer, everyone a devotee.
"History is an evil word. Now the one who coined it had an entirely different approach but it has been twisted by the enemies." He sighed, "the non-believers."
"What do they call as history? Our God? His story is history so—so when they say," he quickly adopted a mocking tone, his face deforming to resemble a pathetic opinionated person, "'oh but this is all in the past, why dredge up old wounds and spoil our lives? Why not just forget what happened and keep moving on, eh? So what if we were targeted at least we have our necks now right?'"
The crowd behind the initial important members of the sermon broke into raucous laughter at the impression, while the front merely smiled in agreement.
"How stupid did I look? That's not some mere dissident dear Faalandiers, that is the living embodiment of denial itself."
He turned to face the giant wall, depicting the mural of the God King and the Traitor in battle, "our savior who fought for our existence, our future," one could almost see the tear wetting Vai's eye as he said with emotion, "did not fight so that we may forget."
"Our lessons have to be passed on, lest they be forgotten. Which is why I come to a most contentious topic, the Relic Bearer."
The entire hall went silent. Not one moved upon the utterance of that title. A national shame for many, a royal disgrace for few.
Vai didn't miss the look of silent despair and raised a mocking hand, "who is that brat really, huh? I mean he came from nowhere, spouted absolute nonsense which fooled a few sheep and went back to where he came from. Nowhere. His existence is meaningless, his hijack on the sheep's belief is being purged with impunity even as we speak. Then why oh why do you have solemn looks on the face of true believers?"
"The son whose whore of a mother rejected him in birth, a father he doesn't know of. Such a pitiful soul easily misled by his own fantasies will unquestionably doubt God and lead other such vermin into his foolishness, will he not?"
"The onus is on us is that how we," Vai spread his arms with a wide smile he had practiced to give off an air of normalcy, "as the true believers fell for the words of falsehood. A lie propagated that this worthless son of nobody had somehow managed to wrest control of the relics for himself, from the entire competing races of Ambrenia and the power of noble blood."
He stood tall and almost shouted the next words, "who here still believes that lie? You? The chosen people?"
"NO!!"
The shout came unanimously from the charged crowd. The Apostle Knights dressed in red gear with spears struggled to control them from the sidelines.
"I don't think I heard that right."
"NO! Father! We do not believe that lie!"
Vai chuckled and stroked his chin, "very well. If you say so. Remember something," he eyed the crowd who quietened down slowly so he raised his voice, "those who follow that vermin are stooge. Plain and simple. Stooges of their own dogma."
CLAP
CLAP
CLAP
CLAP
"Stooge!"
"Stooge!"
"Stooge!"
"Stooge!"
They chanted in rhythm with their claps, making some of the royals and nobles turn in amusement. Not partaking entirely but not condemning either.
The rhythmic slaps were followed by the sounds of feet hitting concrete in the same pitch as they all chanted 'stooge'.
"Days after the coward fled I remember this one beautiful incident of retribution," Vai spoke as if in a trance, twirling around, his arms raised up in the air and head tilted to the domed ceiling, "when the apostles tore a baby alive from a non-believers womb. By then they weren't people anymore, just instruments of God's wrath in our hands. They screamed," Vai gulped as the din continued, his eyes closing in the memory of the act, "oh they screamed. Not for their false idol but for God true in his name. Oh I hope he forgave them in the end!"
The claps broke into loud cheers and Vai grinned, as he delivered one of his best sermons yet and prayed with folded hands to his audience of fanatic worshippers.
☆
"Mmm....slurp," the sound of moaning came from the short, fat man in the center of an opulent office room's long couch where he had both of his hands groping the bodies of two tall female beastfolk, whose cat-like ears twitched upon contact.
"Have some more wine, fine Mayor," the one on his right said as she squeezed her breasts in front of his barely sane face.
"No, I want you to drink from my cup," her compatriot pouted as she used her feline ankle to twist his face in her direction and eagerly parted her legs with a sly grin.
"Ladies one at a time please, I'm the mayor not a tentacle," his hoarse voice rang out slurry as his hands moved further into their dresses to play.
THWACK
The doors to the office opened and Vai Kremer entered without a word.
"Shit, go, go," the fat man snapped to a more dignified state and the women hurried out, closing the door behind them.
He smoothened his oiled hair and sat straight to see Vai who was turning slowly to him.
"I've told you to keep your filth out of the Lord's house haven't I, Mayor?"
The Mayor, the fatty on the couch named Ong Irat, seemed unsure of what to say as he nervously chuckled, "eh? House of the lord? You mean this temple office too?"
But his long time friend wasn't laughing which made Ong shift his tone, "forgive me, I just didn't think you actually believed whatever you say to your followers."
Vai tilted his head, "you think I'm faking my devotion?"
Mayor Ong joined his hands and bowed, "please no lecture. I apologise for that display, it won't happen again."
Vai relaxed and slapped his table, "it's not entirely your fault to question me. We are losing followers after all. It's the same story in all the different chapters of the Temple."
"The Bearer's story is a classic tale of rags to riches, no wonder many lowlifes find comfort in the fairy tale," Vai groaned. Then he turned to Ong, "why am I hearing of the slums these days?"
Ong's eyes widened and he got up to sit in the chair by the desk, closer to Vai, "so that's what this is about. I thought you were going to test my faith."
Vai choked on his glass of water and laughed, to which Ong chuckled. "There's nothing in this world that will convince me to consider you a man of faith, Ong."
"But yes this is about the slums. We can't keep ignoring such things Ong, like a bloody monastic society? Feeding the poor? Bullshit," Vai spat out.
"It's all a scheme Ong, this is how the sheep are turned. Do you get it?"
Ong wasn't particularly shocked but he still nodded, "I agree Vai, rest assured I will look into this myself."
Vai nodded, "good man." He muttered slowly to himself, as his eyes darkened, "good man."