The building standing before me had been called one of the wonders of the southern kingdoms, and now, seeing it with my own eyes rather than relying on secondhand descriptions, I completely understood why it had earned such an exalted reputation.
The architectural style was breathtakingly beautiful in ways that transcended mere aesthetics and entered the realm of the sublime. The temple featured gracefully curved roofs that seemed to defy gravity, sweeping upward in elegant arcs that drew the eye skyward. The entire structure had been constructed from white polished marble that gleamed and glistened in the morning sunlight, creating an effect that was almost blinding in its brilliance. The stone seemed to capture light and reflect it back in a way that made the building appear to glow from within, as though it possessed its own internal luminescence.
And the scale of it was absolutely enormous—so massive in its dimensions that it made everyone approaching it feel like ants scurrying beneath the feet of giants. The main structure rose several stories high, with towers and spires reaching even higher, their peaks seeming to brush against the clouds themselves. The sense of being diminished by the sheer magnitude of what human hands had created was both humbling and awe-inspiring simultaneously.
The decorative elements adorning the walls were another wonder entirely. Every surface had been carved with intricate patterns and scenes of religious significance. The level of detail was staggering—I could have spent hours examining just a single panel, following the flow of carved figures and symbolic representations that told stories from the faith's mythology. The artisans who had created these carvings must have dedicated years, perhaps entire lifetimes, to their craft. Each line was precise, each figure rendered with anatomical accuracy and emotional expression that brought the stone to life.
But perhaps the most striking feature of the entire temple complex was the enormous statue of Ror that dominated the main courtyard. This representation of their god was itself a masterpiece that deserved classification as a separate wonder. The statue depicted a man in the prime of youth—vigorous, powerful, radiating barely contained energy and strength. In one hand, he wielded a massive trident, the three-pronged weapon raised as though ready to strike down enemies or command the elements themselves. In his other hand, he carried a shield emblazoned with symbols I didn't immediately recognize but which clearly held religious significance.
Most intriguingly, at the statue's feet and winding up its legs were serpents—multiple snakes rendered in exquisite detail, their scales individually carved, their bodies coiling upward as though climbing toward divinity itself. The symbolism was clear even to an outsider: the serpents represented the faithful ascending toward their god, or perhaps wisdom and transformation rising from earthly concerns toward heavenly enlightenment.
The god was depicted as a young warrior, someone ready for battle, prepared to defend his people or engage in cosmic conflicts beyond mortal comprehension. There was something both fierce and protective in the statue's expression, a combination of potential violence and benevolent guardianship that created an intriguing paradox.
Arvid had arranged for Rahu to accompany us on this visit—young Rahu, Dulga's son, the talented artist who had been documenting our journey in his sketchbooks. I could see that the young man was having an absolutely wonderful time exploring the temple grounds. His eyes were practically glistening with excitement and inspiration as they darted from one architectural detail to another, trying to absorb everything simultaneously. His hand moved constantly across the pages of his worn notebook, pencil flying as he attempted to capture the essence of what he was seeing in quick sketches and detailed studies.
Gautham had positioned himself as Rahu's constant companion and unofficial guardian, following the young artist with watchful attention. The older man wore a permanent smile as he observed Rahu's eager enthusiasm, clearly delighted by the youngster's passionate engagement with art and beauty. According to Katherine—who had mentioned it in passing, certainly not because I had been curious enough to inquire, no, definitely not—they had been sharing accommodations together. They'd been sharing rooms since our time in Gorei and now here in Kima as well. Roommates, one might say. Close roommates, apparently. *Ahem.*
A particular moment registered in my peripheral vision that confirmed just how "close" these roommates had become: Gautham's hand landing with familiar ease on Rahu's backside in what was clearly not an accidental touch, followed immediately by Rahu smacking that wandering hand away with a combination of exasperation and poorly suppressed amusement. The interaction carried the comfortable intimacy of an established relationship, complete with the playful boundary-testing and mock-annoyed responses that couples develop over time.
I deliberately turned my attention back to the massive statue of Ror towering before us, giving the two men their privacy. Who was I to judge their happiness? Let them have their joy.
I found myself genuinely curious about this god they worshipped with such devotion. What kind of deity was Ror? What did he represent to his followers?
"It's quite a wonder, isn't it?" an unfamiliar voice spoke from close behind me, making me start slightly. I hadn't heard anyone approach. "Ror existed even before any other gods came into being—he predates the entire divine pantheon that humans typically worship. He is the god of good and bad, of pain and happiness, of everything that exists in between those extremes. The god of both punishment and reward, of consequences both favorable and unfavorable."
*Isn't that just the cosmic law itself?* I thought immediately, the description triggering recognition of something far more fundamental than a typical deity. The cosmic law—that universal force that governed existence, that maintained balance, that ensured actions had consequences and that nothing existed in isolation from the great web of causality.
"Is that so?" I said aloud, keeping my tone politely interested rather than revealing my sudden suspicion. I turned toward the source of that voice to see who had approached me without my noticing.
A man stood there, dressed in the pure white robes that marked him as a priest of considerable rank. But what immediately drew attention was his striking appearance: flaming red hair that seemed to catch and hold sunlight, making it appear almost to glow, and golden eyes that were unusual to the point of being otherworldly. No human I had ever encountered possessed eyes of that particular shade—they looked like polished amber or like sunlight trapped in liquid form.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Queen of Draga," the man said with a formal but warm smile. "I am Elian Rouwar, High Priest of Kima." He reached for my hand with practiced grace and pressed it respectfully to his forehead in a traditional greeting gesture.
"I am Rhiaenne Serenna Draga," I responded, returning his greeting with a respectful bow of acknowledgment. The formality seemed appropriate given his position and the sacred ground on which we stood.
He was, objectively speaking, a beautiful man. That word—beautiful rather than handsome—felt more accurate for describing his features, which possessed an almost feminine delicacy despite his obviously masculine build. And there was something about him that reminded me strongly of the statue of Ror standing before us—that same sense of barely contained vigor, of energy ready to burst forth at any moment. His golden eyes held an intensity that seemed to look through surface appearances and perceive deeper truths. I felt momentarily caught in that gaze, held by an attention that was both flattering and slightly unsettling.
"You are considerably more beautiful than Arvid described in his most recent letter," Elian said, his tone suggesting genuine appreciation rather than mere flattery. "He attempted to capture your appearance in words, but written descriptions clearly failed to convey the reality. You possess absolutely otherworldly beauty—something that transcends normal human attractiveness. And I can sense the power within you as well, coiled and ready beneath your surface composure. Aren't you remarkably blessed to carry such gifts?"
Before I could formulate an appropriate response to such direct observations, Arvid approached us from where he had been speaking with Rohan about some logistical matter.
"I see you've met my friend," he said to me with evident pleasure, clearly happy that two important people in his life were finally being introduced. Then he turned his full attention to Elian and approached the high priest with a broad, genuine smile splitting his face. He embraced the other man in one of those hearty, back-slapping hugs that men exchange when they're truly pleased to see each other.
"It's wonderful to see you again, brother," Arvid said with unmistakable enthusiasm and affection warming every word.
"And you as well, my brother," Elian responded, returning the embrace with equal warmth. When they separated, his unusual golden eyes immediately returned to study me with that same penetrating intensity. "Why don't we take a walk together? The temple gardens are particularly spectacular at this time of year—the roses are in full bloom, creating quite a remarkable display. I would be honored to show you around the grounds personally."
So we began our walk, leaving the main temple structure behind and heading toward the extensive gardens that apparently surrounded it. Arvid kept my hand clasped securely in his, his thumb occasionally rubbing small circles against my palm in an unconscious gesture of affection. The high priest walked slightly ahead of us, taking the position of guide, pointing out various features and sharing information about the temple's history and the symbolism built into its design.
But even as I nodded politely and made appropriate sounds of interest, my mind was occupied with trying to determine what exactly I should think about this unusual man. His previous words, the way he had so casually mentioned sensing the power within me, the peculiar quality of his presence—all of it created a puzzle I couldn't quite solve. He didn't seem entirely human to me. There was something constructed about him, something that felt less like a natural person and more like a higher being deliberately masking its true nature behind a human facade.
*So you felt it too?* Aiona's voice chimed in my mind, confirming that I wasn't simply imagining things or being paranoid.
*Yes,* I responded mentally. *It's extremely strange how much he resembles the statue of his god. The coloring is different, but the energy, the bearing, the sense of vigor—it's almost identical.*
*Ror,* Aiona mused thoughtfully, *in the dead Premish language, meant 'cosmic.' It's not a name so much as a title, a description of fundamental nature.*
*And before the Kima Kingdom established itself here, these lands were occupied by the Premish people,* she added, providing historical context I hadn't known. *They were an ancient civilization with deep connections to primordial forces.*
*It can't actually be the cosmic law itself manifesting in human form, can it?* I asked, feeling a slight tremor in my hand at the implications of that possibility.
Aiona was silent for a moment before responding. *You know how the priests and priestesses who serve at the Mount Serana Temple channel divine power through their prayers to their respective gods?*
*Yes,* I confirmed, waiting for her to continue the thought.
*Well, the divine power that those gods grant to their faithful isn't actually the gods' own intrinsic power. The gods themselves are granted power by the cosmic law—they're intermediaries, conduits. So if someone were to pray directly to the cosmic law itself, bypassing all the intermediate divine beings...*
Aiona trailed off, leaving me to complete the logical chain.
*They would have access to vastly more divine power,* I finished for her. *Since they'd be drawing directly from the source of all power rather than receiving it filtered through lesser beings.*
We stopped walking in front of a vast garden that spread before us like a living painting. It was filled with roses of seemingly every variety and color imaginable—deep reds that were almost black, pristine whites, soft pinks, vibrant yellows, even unusual lavenders and oranges. The visual impact was stunning, a riot of color that somehow managed to feel harmonious rather than chaotic. And the fragrance was equally remarkable—the wind carried the delicate, complex scent of thousands of roses, a perfume so concentrated it almost tickled my nostrils and made my head feel slightly light.
"I haven't yet properly congratulated you both on your wedding," Elian said suddenly, stopping his forward progress and turning to face us directly. His golden eyes moved between Arvid and myself, his expression warm and sincere.
"May you two share a long and happy marriage, blessed and protected by Ror," he pronounced, the words carrying the weight of genuine benediction rather than mere social pleasantry. When a high priest of his power offered such a blessing, it meant something, carried actual force.
Arvid was the first to acknowledge the congratulations, squeezing my hand as he responded.
"Well, you're not particularly late with your well-wishes," he said with a grin, "because we'll be holding another, larger wedding ceremony in the southern territories. A proper imperial wedding with all the pageantry and formality that entails. And I'm officially inviting you to attend. Your presence would mean a great deal to both of us."
The enthusiasm in Arvid's voice was unmistakable—he genuinely wanted his old friend to witness this important milestone.
The man with flaming red hair smiled broadly, clearly pleased by the invitation. "Of course I'll attend. I wouldn't dream of missing such an important day in my best friend's life." His eyes did linger on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before he pulled his gaze away, but the look was more assessing than inappropriate.
We continued walking deeper into the garden complex, following winding paths that led between carefully cultivated beds of flowers and ornamental shrubs. Eventually, we reached a man-made pond that served as a centerpiece for this section of the gardens. The water was crystal clear, allowing visibility to the smooth stones lining the bottom. But what truly made the pond spectacular were the lotus flowers that covered much of its surface—vibrant blooms in shades of pink and white, their broad leaves floating peacefully. Bees moved busily between the flowers, their legs heavy with pollen as they performed their essential work, carrying the means of reproduction from bloom to bloom and gathering nectar to transform into honey in their distant hives.
It was a scene of perfect tranquility, the kind of carefully constructed natural beauty that encouraged contemplation and peace.
"Your Majesty!" A voice called from behind us, breaking the meditative atmosphere. I turned to see General Rohan approaching with purposeful strides. "Just a moment of your time, please, if you could spare it."
Rohan's expression suggested he needed to discuss something of at least moderate importance—probably some logistical matter related to our security or travel plans.
"Of course," Arvid responded immediately. He gave my hand an apologetic squeeze before releasing it. "Excuse me for just a moment." He walked a short distance away with Rohan, the two men immediately falling into quiet but intense discussion about whatever matter had prompted the interruption.
Once Arvid was safely out of earshot, Elian's entire demeanor shifted subtly. The friendly, slightly formal high priest facade dropped away, revealing something far more ancient and knowing underneath.
"It's always such a pleasure to see my creations make themselves powerful through creativity and will," he stated casually, no longer playing the game of pretense and misdirection. The mask was off now, apparently.
"The cosmic law is so idle, so bored with its own infinite existence, that it apparently has time to play elaborate games with humans purely to fulfill that boredom and find entertainment," I responded, matching his directness with my own. If we were dispensing with pretense, we might as well be completely honest.
His unusual golden eyes absolutely glistened with what looked like delight at my response. "Well, I do have literally all the time in the universe—infinite time, in fact. I am the great creator of it all, after all—time, space, matter, consciousness, everything that exists came into being because I willed it. But that doesn't mean I'm particularly attached to this specific vessel, this temporary human form you see before you."
He gestured to himself as though his physical body were merely clothing he happened to be wearing.
"I'm merely a spectator, you understand. Watching what I consider to be the best, most entertaining drama of this particular cosmic cycle, and I've managed to secure myself a first-row seat for the performance. The players don't even realize they're putting on a show, which makes it all the more genuine and fascinating."
His voice had dropped to something much deeper and profoundly inhuman—a sound that resonated in frequencies that shouldn't have been audible to human ears but which I could somehow perceive anyway.
"You, child, have particularly amused me," he continued, that inhuman voice carrying layers of meaning I couldn't fully parse. "What you will bring to this world, how you'll play your assigned part in the great pattern, the ripples your choices will create across centuries—I intend to watch it all unfold. You have my complete attention, which is both a blessing and a burden. Try to make it interesting."
The smile he wore was both benevolent and utterly terrifying, carrying the weight of something far too vast to be contained in human form.
I found I had no adequate response to that declaration. What could one possibly say to the cosmic law itself when it announced its intention to personally observe your life?