Damn it, I have writer's block again. And at the worst time, too! I still have a ton to do on Don't Steal My Sunglasses. So what do I do? This.
The sun always rises slowly over Bevelle, casting shadows across the extent of the highbridge and prolonging the drowsy air of the monk barracks. As each priest of Yevon rises for morning prayer, they are forced to wipe away this weariness for the greater good. One by one they leave their beds, filing down the tall and wide halls of the Tower of Light with a serene grace that only they have been able to perfect.
The move in organized lines, never straying from the pack; their movements are as one, their feet falling softly on the marble floor in a slow and steady rhythm. Right, left, and so on.
As they near the doors to the highbridge the lines split into smaller lines, about twenty to each exit. There are shelves by the doors. They reach out to take one of each object that the shelf nearest them holds: a smooth, wooden slab on which the Hymn of the Fayth has been carved. Some eyes scan over the words in admiration and pride for their faith, others remain pinned to the ground in the knowledge that they know the song by rote.
One by one they step out into the sun, but the sun does not bother their eyes. They are priests of Yevon, and the sun is always welcome.
The leader at the front of the line stops at a certain point and waits for the rest of his followers to exit the building and step into the welcomed sun, basking in its warmth. After it is made clear that all have done so, they walk again.
And they begin to sing in a low, perfect and united chorus the Hymn of the Fayth. Their movements flow with the song as some look down at the slab of smooth wood again, reading the holy words as they leave their lips in song. And after each verse is voiced, still moving as one, they all bring this slab to their foreheads with a loud gonk.
Ie yui…
Gonk.
Nobomenu…Gonk.
Renmiri…Gonk.
Yoju yogo…Gonk.
And the cycle goes on.
