The day finally came, a week after Father's announcement. Me and my siblings all gathered in front of the Oeus statue.
They spoke with each other like usual, their small talk filling the room, but I stood out from the group. I could not bring myself to join them.
The chatter ended the moment Father walked in. He clasped his hands together, a wide smile spread across his face. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile like that.
"Children, today is the day where you will join the Church of Oeus!"
Silence fell. Not even Salomon dared to speak, though his mouth usually never stopped.
"Please stay in a line in front of the statue."
We obeyed without question, forming a line under his watchful gaze. Father's smile softened but remained, proud and steady. The line formed with Salomon first, then Rosa, Ramona, Lorna, Bryant, and lastly me.
Small whispers passed between them, but they died down once Father motioned for Salomon to step forward.
Father reached into his left pocket and pulled out a bag. Just then, Janie came from around the corner, carrying items with both hands a glass cup with a spoon, another bag sealed tightly with a faint mist curling out of it. She placed them carefully by Father's side.
Father knelt and reached into the first bag. One by one, he took out a dozen small stones, placing them on the wooden floor before clustering them together.
We all leaned forward slightly, our faces full of curiosity.
Next, he pulled out a handful of deep-colored dirt, sprinkling it slowly over the stones. From a smaller pouch inside the bag, he revealed a white powder, fine as salt. He dumped it on top of the dirt and shaped it into a small mountain with his hands.
Then, he lifted the glass cup. At first it looked like plain water, but when he opened the misty bag and drew out a piece of moss, I saw that it was not ordinary at all. The moss was covered in a sheen of thick ice, like it had been frozen for years. He dropped it into the water, stirring it with the spoon until the liquid shimmered faintly.
Father took out a box of matches. Sweat had already begun to bead on his forehead.
He struck one, the flame trembling in his hand, and dropped it onto the mountain of powder and dirt. Smoke rose instantly, curling toward the ceiling. He lifted the glass cup and drizzled the liquid carefully over the stones, the smoke hissing as it mixed.
Then he spoke, voice strong and commanding.
"In the name of Oeus, God of the Mountains, please bless my child whose mind has not yet followed a god. Guide him, bless him, and watch over him until he chooses to leave."
The room grew heavier, as though the air itself thickened. I felt a presence, vast and undeniable. It pressed against me but did not overwhelm me. Salomon, however, froze in place. His eyes widened, his lips trembled. He looked as though he had glimpsed something utterly terrifying.
Even I felt unsettled, though not to his degree.
Father smiled warmly. "You are now part of the Church of Oeus. Cheer up, you are practically a priest on my level. Soon you will be taught."
Salomon nodded shakily and walked off, pale and silent.
The same blessing was repeated for Rosa, Ramona, Lorna, and Bryant. Each of them staggered afterward, their faces pale and their eyes wide, but none protested.
Then, finally, it was my turn.
Father's smile grew brighter, almost expectant. He set up the stones, the dirt, the powder, the cup. His hands shook slightly as he struck another match.
My heart pounded.
He repeated each step as before, but before he could speak the words of blessing, my world vanished.
My hearing, my sight, my sense of touch, gone. All five senses vanished in an instant.
I floated in nothingness, blind, deaf, numb. Panic clawed at me. It felt endless, as if I would remain trapped forever.
Then, just as suddenly, sensation returned. My sight snapped back first.
I stood on dirt, scattered with patches of grass and moss. Around me, tall dark-green trees reached toward the sky. The air smelled sharp and fresh, like mountains after rain. Ahead of me, a vast mountain rose, its peak so high it touched the stars.
I turned to take it in, awe pressing against my chest. Then a shadow loomed.
"AHH!"
I screamed.
A figure stood before me. Half-hidden by leaves, his form was gray and formless, like stone shaped into the vague image of a man. He was bald, featureless, almost like a blank statue or a figure unfinished.
"O… Oeus?"
The figure nodded slowly.
Horror bled from his presence. This could not be his true form.
He raised his hand toward me, as if to grant a blessing. My heart pounded in my throat.
I never followed a god, I wanted to say. I never swore loyalty.
But as his hand hovered close, he froze.
He opened his mouth, and his voice thundered through me.
"Already following a god, and trying to follow another… You show no respect. Depart from me, boy of the false."
The words shattered me.
Pain ripped through my body, sharp and unrelenting.
What? God? When did I follow a god?
I collapsed to my knees, screaming, clawing at my chest as if I could tear the agony out. Around me, the grass turned gray, the trees withered, the mountain crumbled into dust. The world rotted before my eyes.
Then, in a blink, it was gone.
I was back in the church, gasping for air, my body drenched in sweat. My limbs trembled, too weak to move.
I forced myself to look at Father, ready to stammer out an excuse, maybe even a weak smile.
But his face stopped me cold.
His eyes were wide, his mouth open. The color had drained from his skin. He stared at me with disgust, as though I were no longer his child.
Not awe.
Not fear.
Disgust.....