Knowledge of the Shadows
Chapter One: The Golden-Eye Acolyte
By Parariillusion
enter disclaimer here
I am Ishizu, an acolyte of the temple of Isis, currently undergoing training to gain the skills needed to succeed the curent head priestess of Isis when she grows too old and decrepit to conduct the life-giving ceremonies. It is not right for one so old to handle the birth ceremonies, for her death is looming closer and closer with every passing month; and the brush of the hand of one who is near death against the aura of new life would lead to catastrophic events unheard of even in this dark and hidden land of Ijit.
In Ijit, we wear masks to protect ourselves frm the poisonous effects of life and death. Every child must be born within the temple of Isis among the much-feared priestesses of Isis so that none but the goddess who gave eac human life may know the features carved into each newborn child's face. When an Ijitan is close to death, and the coming death has been affirmed through a dream of the future received by a priestess, a good-bye ceremony is held and the death-fated Ijitan dies in the arms of the reincarnation of Isis--the head priestess-- with the sweet taste of Isis's potion upon the dead one's lips. I will soon become that reincarnation, to deliver life and death with these very hands that are cooking a dinner for my younger brother, Malik.
"Ishizu! I'm hungry!" Malik complains. He has just returned home from his staff-wielding lesson at Master Joun's Royal Ijitan School for the Teaching of the Use of Hand-held Weapons-- Master Joun's School, for short-- and he is sweaty from the workout, grimy from falls taken from Master Joun (for in truth, my brother is too strong for his fellow classmates; only Master Joun can train him at his current skill level), and altogether unfit to sit at dinner.
"Go to the lake and wash yourself before you lay a finger on a single morsel of dinner," I reply. He smells terrible, too.
"Aww, Isis," he whines, but he stomps out the door anyways.
I finish cooking and inspect myself, as I did Malik. I still reek of the potions I was making at the temple. The smell is enough to ruin the food I had just created, for it smells like the formaldehyde priestesses use to embalm bodies. I quickly move away from the platters of food and follow Malik's footprints to the lake.
I have heard that public nakedness of the body i not acceptable in other countries, but it is a fact of life here. Men and women bathe together all the time, not to mention the other activities involved with the body. It is not acceptable, however, to remove one's mask and expose the face that shields the knowledge held wthin our heads. The public outcry against that offense is worse than a reaction from a public stripping in another country. To do so would mean the death-giving ceremony for the offender and a seven year cleansing of the village that the offender belonged to.
It is a well-known fact that all animals choose their mates by judging the physical appearance, the most important feature for humans being the face. But because in Ijit humans have no faces--only masks-- women and men alike run amuck, mating with anyone when they feel like it. Occasionally, a man and a woman will fall in love and become married, but that is rare. To prevent an immense population growth, potions are given out monthly by the temple of Isis to women for them to drink after their monthly bleeding, which destroys the egg released by women every month after their monthlies. This potion was what I was creating today in the temple. It smells terrible at first, but flavours and pleasing colors are added to it to please the aesthetic longings of women and to help the women digest it more easily. Beauty is prized highly in Ijit. An Ijitan will go to great lengths to buy something as small as a pretty stone so that he/she can make it into an adornment. Most of the time, though, such items are used to decorate one's mask. Gaudy masks are often seen around Ijit and make the wearers seem rather pretentious, since the most beautiful masks are those of the rich that have easy access to gems, laces, and such. Personally, I do not like such gaudiness. It seems artificial in a way. I suppose that it is more convenient for me to think so, because acolytes and priestesses are exempt from being able to decorate their masks. We are chosen at birth and from then on, forbidden to decorate our masks. The only decorations on our masks are what were painted on there by the Goddess. Mine has swirls of red and white upon it, just like the high priestess's, though it also has the sign of ancient Ijit on it, a golden eye, which the high priestess's does not have. I am the first in the line of high priestess's to have such a mark. Strange things seem to be destined for me, according to the priestesses closest to the center of the temple, where Isis dwells. I touch the golden eye on my mask as I walk to the lake, feeling eyes on me. People move surreptiously away from me, leaving me a nice area in the lake to bathe. There are some people that stare at me, who are not concerned about the mask. They stare at the nakedness of my body. My figure and body in this society of nudity and masks that should be used to the beauty of the body is attractive even to the oldest of Ijitans because of the glorious aura that Isis has bestowed upon me as her successor. None draw close to me, though, for the acolyte of the high priestess is forbidden to sexual desires of men. It is because of this that I am startled to see the reflection of a man's face in the water before me. The most startling feature about this face was that there was no mask upon it. I only recognized it as a face because I have seen visions of other countries where citizens do not wear masks. There were beautiful icy blue eyes in the reflection with a haughty nose and berry-red mouth. I turned around to find no one behind me, not even Malik who had been bathing a couple of feet away from me, much less the stranger with no mask.
"Where is everyone!" I cry out, searching the surface of the water to see if they have all hidden in the lake from me. "Nowhere, Isis," a voice replies.
Master JounJounouchi
AN: Rather abrupt ending, I think. This chapter was to basically explain the Ijitan society and Ishizu's role in it, while giving a little teaser of the plot to come. Did anyone notice what Ijit sounds like? Anyways, review, bookmark, and enjoy the rest of the story to come!