Chapter 3: First Steps

With the addition of Coral, that brought the total number of paralarvae completing the Rite of Sickness to nineteen. Kallamar would've preferred something more reasonable like fifteen, and would have to infect them with something stronger next time. But for now it could not be helped.

Another week passed as the paralavae recovered from their ordeal, and Kallamar visited them daily to spend time with them as well as monitor their progress. He found the healthier paralarvae grew increasingly restless over the week as their weaker siblings took more time to recover, thus essentially confining them to their room. He explained to them that they must wait until they had all recovered so they could all start their education at the same time, and though they understood, and agreed this made sense, they were still bored. Mala did her best to entertain them by telling them stories from her own childhood, reading them books and poetry, and providing them with some activities they could complete together and in their room, but he would need to return to his lesson plan to devise something for future paralarvae to do during this time. And if he was planning on infecting them with something stronger, then he would also need to take into account that the recovery period was subsequently likely to increase. But that was a matter for later.

Kallamar surveyed the paralarvae now. They were all dressed up for the first time and were more than ready to begin the day. Some of them picked at their robes in mild discomfort but they would grow accustomed to them in time. "My children," he said, and they all snapped to attention. "Are you all ready for breakfast?"

"Foood!" They chorused enthusiastically and Mala chuckled.

"It would seem they are, Lord Kallamar," she said. "And I must confess, so am I."

"Then follow me." The smell of food being cooked by the kitchen staff wafted up the corridor as they drew closer and the children voiced their anticipation and appreciation of the enticing smell. They sat at the table and waited patiently for food to arrive. Grilled fish was served to Mala and the children and a pot of tea to Kallamar.

"Father?" Kalinor asked, looking surprised as well as confused. "Are you not going to eat as well?"

"I do not require the same kind of sustenance that you do, Kalinor. But I will explain more in time. Now eat, my children, before your food gets cold." As he sipped his tea he watched them eat, and could not help but compare them to Heket's children. Though they held the fish in their hands rather than use the provided utensils, they took bite size chunks and chewed slowly; A stark comparison to his niblings, who wolfed down their meals in the space of a couple of minutes, a feat they achieved by shoving their entire faces into their food and cramming as much meat as would physically fit into their mouths. He smiled in amusement at the memory, but also in satisfaction at his children's demeanour. Already they were so much like him and it eased any lingering anxiety for the future; Yes, he would be able to handle them just fine. With Mala's help of course.

When the last bite of food had been eaten, he set down his teacup. "Are we all finished?"

"Yes, Father," they chorused.

"Very good. Then let us get you cleaned up." He waved over two servants with bowls of warm water and wash cloths, then he and Mala got to work. The children lined up to have their faces cleaned with the face cloths before washing their hands in the water. Mala would boop their noses with the cloth once she'd finished, but some of the children to their amusement decided they would wash themselves by dunking their entire faces into the bowl of water instead.

"What are we doing today, Father?" Kalinor asked, once they were all clean.

"I have cancelled the hearing of follower's requests for the day for the purpose of showing you around my temple. As my children it is your home as well, and so you should become familiar with its layout. Tomorrow however, followers' requests will resume and you will be in attendance. Now, come." He led them out of the kitchen and then stopped. "Let us begin here. This wing of the temple is called the Forge. It houses both the kitchen and the smithy and is run by both Head Cook Auryus and Mastersmith Califer."

"What do you eat at the smithy?" Kalinor asked.

He chuckled. "The smithy does not produce food, Kalinor. Rather that is where our weapons and armour are forged. But they were placed in the same wing because both require the same fuel to feed their fires as well as sufficient ventilation to, well, ventilate the gases and smoke that both places produce."

"Can we watch them make stuff, Father?" One of the paralarvae asked, and their siblings voiced their agreement.

"The smithy should be warming up about now but yes, if you wish to observe them in action, I am certain they won't mind. But there is one condition, my children; You must obey Califer's instructions for your own safety. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father," they chorused.

"Good. Then come with me." They followed him to the smithy. The smiths were in the process of firing up the forge, throwing in logs and coal, and stoking the fire with a large pair of bellows. "Califer."

The smiths turned at the sound of his voice. "Lord Kallamar," said Califer, a grey tapir, and they all bowed. "What brings you to the Forge?"

"My children have expressed a desire to watch you work, if that is acceptable?"

Califer beamed. "We would be delighted to show off our skills to the children, my Lord." He turned to his team. "Won't we lads and lasses?" The team voiced their assent. As the forge was warming up, Califer passed the time by explaining his work and the steps involved. Once it was ready, the work began. He split the paralarve into three groups of five and one of four and had them stand in different parts of the smithy to watch the different parts of the forging process. "Now you mustn't move from these spots unless I say you can," he instructed. He left the smithing to the team so he could explain to each group what they were seeing and then moved them around to a different step when it was safe to do so. Kallamar observed that while all were intrigued, some of them were more fascinated than others. "And that's all there is to it," Califer concluded. "Of course the full process of forging a weapon takes a very long time, so I'm afraid this is all we can show you today. But you are of course welcome to return over the next few weeks to watch these weapons take shape."

"Weeks?" One of the paralarvae repeated in surprise. "Does it really take that long?"

"If you want weapons of a decent quality then yes."

The paralarvae turned to their father as one, eyes filled with hope and pleading. "Can we, Father?"

"… Very well," Kallamar conceded. "I see no harm in allowing you to return to the forge on a daily basis. But it will have to wait until after followers' requests is concluded. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Father," they replied readily and happily.

"Good. Then I believe it is time for us to move on." Over the course of the day, with breaks for lunch and dinner, Kallamar showed him them around his temple.

"The administration wing is where the temple's paperwork is managed and issued," Kallamar explained. "There is a large room in this wing called the Archives where the temple's files and records are organised and kept. You do not need to know what goes on within this wing, but you should understand that the work being undertaken is important to keep my temple running smoothly. And it is kept running smoothly by Administrator Arnelian."

"Will we have to do paperwork, Father?" Kalinor asked.

Kallamar blinked, surprised by the question. "Hmm. Well… In a manner of speaking I suppose you will; As part of your education I will be giving you assignments to complete. But you will not be expected to complete anything issued here. That will be a matter for when you are much older."

"This is the military wing, though it is more commonly known as the war wing for the alliteration."

"What's alliteration?" One of the paralarvae asked.

Kallamar smiled. "When the first letter of every word in a sentence is the same. I will be giving you all lessons in literacy that will teach you to read and write, so you will come to understand the meaning of such words as alliteration in time. Now as I was saying, the war wing is where my followers study and train in the art of war. My eldest, sibling Shamura governs this realm, and so much of the material was written and devised by them. But you will find that in each of my siblings domains, the art practiced will differ slightly. For example my followers favour magic and the great sword, whilst my brother Leshy's followers largely prefer the sword and dagger."

"Can you use weapons, Father?" Kalinor asked.

"I have some skill with a blade, but it pales in comparison to my skill with magic." He smiled down at them. "Would you like me to demonstrate?"

"Oh, please," they chorused enthusiastically.

His smile broadened. "Very well. Then follow me." He lead them inside the war wing and into a large space where followers were sparring with each other under the watchful eye of a red turtle. "Commander Trello."

The turtle spun around and the sound of training weapons clashing against each other abruptly stopped as they registered the presence of their Bishop. "Lord Kallamar." He gave a low bow and the trainees did the same. "My apologies, my Lord, we were not expecting you."

"Your apology is unnecessary, Trello. My visit was… unplanned."

"Then how may we assist you this day, Lord Kallamar?"

"I am showing my children around the temple, and while we are here I thought to give them a demonstration of my capabilities."

Trello's gaze was drawn to the paralarvae stepping into the training room and staring around in awe and interest. He smiled. "Ah. So they're up and about at last. That is excellent news." He turned to them properly and saluted them greeting. "Welcome, children of our Lord Kallamar. I am Commander Trello, commander of the war wing." He chuckled when they all saluted back.

"It's nice to meet you, Commander Trello. I'm Kalinor." He turned his gaze to the trainees now patiently waiting to return to their training. "What were they doing?"

"They were sparring, my young lord. Think of it as being education through active combat. We use sparring to practice what we've learned and to test our knowledge and abilities against the skill and capability of another."

Kalinor looked fascinated. "I see…"

"Perhaps you will become a frequent visitor in future."

"I might." He smiled. "Sparring looks like fun." Some of his siblings voiced their agreement.

Trello's chuckle became a cry of warning when he spotted Coral attempting to heft a large and heavy greatsword off a weapons rack in curiosity. Before anyone else could react, he had crossed the distance in the blink of an eye to stop her before she could remove the weapon any further. Coral turned to him with wide eyes of surprise as he put it back. "That would be best left alone, young lady," he told her gently.

Mala gasped. "Coral!" She held out her arms to the paralarva. "Come here." When Coral had buried her face into her chest she said. "You mustn't touch things when you don't know what they are, Coral. They could be dangerous."

"I'm sorry," Coral mumbled tearfully.

Mala sighed and kissed her forehead before smiling down at her fondly. "It's all right, my little snowflake. You're still learning. But you mustn't do that again, all right?"

Coral stepped back and wiped away her tears. "I won't, Mother. I promise."

"All's well that ends well," Trello declared. "Now, you were wanting to hold a demonstration for your children, Lord Kallamar."

Kallamar blinked. "Ah. Yes. I was."

"One moment and I will have the room cleared." He bellowed at the trainees to clear the room and the paralarvae covered their ears, giggling at both the wording of his commands as well as the volume, as the trainees hurried to obey his orders. "The floor is all yours, my Lord."

"Stay here, my children," he instructed as he stepped toward the centre of the room. "I will be holding back, but it will be safer if you observed from a distance." They did as they were told and watched in awe as he demonstrated first his magic, and then his crown abilities, while Mala felt her heart quicken as she looked on. She, Trello and the trainees gave him their applause when he had finished as the paralarvae swarmed him, their little faces filled with adoration.

"Father, that was amazing!"

"Father, you're so strong!"

"Father, show us more!" The paralarvae latched onto the suggestion immediately and began clamouring for more. "More! More! Show us more!"

Kallamar raised his hands to silence them. "Your praise and enthusiasm are appreciated my children, but that is enough for today." They voiced their disappointment. "I will show you more another time."

"Father, were you really holding back just now?" Kalinor asked.

"I was, Kalinor. My full power is far too destructive to demonstrate within the temple. But perhaps when I am to show you the rest of my domain, you will see it then." The paralarvae babbled excitedly amongst themselves at the news and prospect.

"And can we learn magic, Father?"

"You can, though you may find that some of you will have a greater aptitude for it than others, as is the case with my siblings and I. As for my crown abilities, as you are of my blood then you will be able to wield them as well, though they will be an imitation and consequently much weaker in strength."

"When can we start?"

He chuckled and patted Kalinor on the head. "With patience, my son. You must wait for your divine blood to grow in power before you can begin to learn." The paralarvae voiced their disappointment.

"What about you, Mother?" Kalinor asked. "Can you fight?"

"Oh heavens no," Mala replied. "I'm a healer not a fighter."

When they arrived at the healer's wing, Kallamar turned to Mala. "Mala. I will let you explain."

"Thank you, Lord Kallamar." She smiled as the paralarvae flocked around her for a change, giving her their full and undivided attention. "This is the healer's wing. It is where the injured go for treatment or to recover from their injuries, and is lead by Head Healer Grelison. It is also the place were the field of healing is researched and studied by Lord Kallamar and the senior healers. Any advances or breakthroughs that are made are then passed on to the healer's wings of the other temples."

"Mother, you said you were healer," said Kalinor. "Does that mean that you work here, when you're not taking care of us?"

"This was where I found my calling after coming to the temple, and where I first made friends. But I have not worked here for some time now." Her expression became wistful as she gazed inside. "I do not regret my choice to leave the healer's wing to become one of your father's deacons but… I do miss it sometimes."

"What's a deacon?" One of the paralarvae asked.

"Deacon is a position in my temple awarded to my most loyal and most devoted followers," Kallamar explained. "Their responsibilities can vary, but they essentially serve as a council of advisors, and assist me with running both temple and my larger domain. Of this council, my most loyal, my most trusted and my most competent is selected to be my archdeacon. My archdeacons work with me closely and take charge of the temple in my absence."

"Is that what Mother is?" Kalinor asked.

"No," he replied simply. "She is your mother."

"I couldn't possibly look after you all and assist with running the temple as well," Mala added.

"Oh…" Kalinor blinked. "I guess that would be a lot… And it would mean we wouldn't get to see you all that much if you did, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," she nodded slowly. "I would certainly have to make sacrifices somewhere."

Kalinor smiled as he said. "Well… we're glad you chose us, Mother." His siblings voiced their agreement.

Mala clutched her heart as she returned his smile. "That's very sweet of you to say, Kalinor."

Coral tugged on Mala's robe. "Mother. Was this where you met Father?"

"This was where we met the second time," she replied. "We first met many years before in his throne room, when I was a little older than you are now. I had come down with a terrible illness you see, and so my parents made the ten day journey from our village to bring me before your father so that he could cure me."

The paralarvae's eyes widened as they were hearing this story for the first time and they pressed forward. "And did he?"

She chuckled before turning an adoring gaze on Kallamar. "If he hadn't, I wouldn't be here."

Kallamar's expression softened. "I remember that day, Mala. You were very ill, but somehow managed to find the strength to open your eyes and smile at me. I was surprised as much as I was impressed, and so in recognition of your strength, and as reward for you and your family's devotion, I decided to cure you that day." Mala dipped her head as her face burned and Kallamar spoke to the children. "Your mother has served me faithfully ever since, and it is why I chose her first to be my deacon and then to be my… well. Your mother."

"This is the artisan's wing," said Kallamar. "It is where my followers study and engage in various arts and crafts, under the guidance of Artificer Norano. I am an artist myself and some of the paintings you see here on the walls," he gestured, "were painted by my hand." The paralarvae voiced their surprise and awe. "But by far my greatest passion is that of calligraphy."

"What's calligraphy?" Kalinor asked.

"It is… well… It would be simpler to show you." So he led them inside and to his personal art studio. "Before I let you in, I must warn you that you mustn't touch anything. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father," they chorused obediently.

"I will not be pleased if you disobey me," he added. He opened the door and they filed in.

Finished paintings of various views and locations in Anchordeep covered the wall, as well as framed excerpts of poetry in calligraphic writing, and an unfinished painting was on an easel in one corner of the studio. As Mala and the paralarvae moved about the room, taking in all the art, Kallamar located his calligraphy set. "Ah. Here it is." They flocked to him and peered at the contents. "This is my calligraphy set. It is what I use to do calligraphy." The calligraphy pens were hand carved from wood that Mala presumed to come from Darkwood, with nibs made of metal. A gift? She wondered, from Bishop Leshy? He set up some paper, coated the nib in ink from an ink pot and then hovered the nib over the paper suddenly at a loss for what to do next. Ink dripped onto the paper as he hummed. "What should I write?"

Mala and the paralarvae exchanged looks as they were also at a loss. "What do you usually write?" She asked.

"Well… Usually I have some text prepared before hand. I am not much of a poet myself, so the poetry is supplied to me by the poetry section. I suppose I could-"

"Oh!" One of the paralarvae exclaimed. "Wait, I think I have something."

Kallamar blinked at her. "… Go on?"

She clasped her hands together behind her back and reciting her improvised poem.

"Lots of paintings on the wall,

Lots of colours, one and all,

Words there are as well to see,

But what do they say? I cannot read."

Her siblings giggled as they applauded her and Mala and Kallamar stared at her, speechless. "Did you… did you come up with that just now?" Mala asked.

"Y-yeah," she replied nervously. "Was it, um… was it any good?"

"It was delightful, Lida," she praised. "And you even made it rhyme as well."

"Yes…" Kallamar agreed before smiling. "It would seem we have a budding poet in our midst. And I have my text." As he put pen to paper, Mala and the paralarvae crowded around him to watch him write. They stared transfixed as the words began to appear on the page with each sweep of the pen. When he was finished he held it up for them all to see and they all voiced their approval.

"It's so pretty," one uttered.

"So calligraphy is… writing?" Kalinor asked.

"It is the art of writing," Kallamar corrected.

"Can we do some calligraphy, Father?" One of the other paralarvae asked.

"In time," he replied. "As first you must learn how to write. Now come. There is much yet left to see." He put the calligraphy and pens to one side and opened the door to let them out. At their request he took them quickly around the rest of the artisan's wing, where they paused to watch or listen to his followers engaging in their chosen arts, before leading them out of the wing.

"Lord Kallamar!" Mala exclaimed and he turned to her confusion. "Where is Coral?"

He blinked and his gaze swept over the paralarvae. Coral, of course, was missing and he sighed. "It would seem that she has wandered off."

She rung her hands anxiously. "Then we must find her."

"Mala. Do not forget that while she is in my temple, she is safe," he reminded her. But as soon as he had uttered the words he recalled the sight of Coral attempting to heft the greatsword off its rack and suddenly realised the cause of Mala's alarm. "… Unless of course she does something foolish…" He sighed again before turning to the paralarvae. "Wait here," he instructed. "We will return shortly."

Fortunately it didn't take much searching before Coral was found. She had been distracted by some followers beginning a playthrough of a folk tune and had slipped into the music room to listen without telling anyone. "I just wanted to hear them play," she explained.

Mala sighed. "You cannot simply wander off without letting one of us know where you're going, Coral. If this was in Anchordeep and not in the temple, you would have become lost. Do you understand?"

Coral bowed her in acquiescence. "Yes, Mother, I understand."

"That goes for all of you as well," Kallamar added for the paralarvae's benefit. "You must stay close to us at all times, especially when we are in Anchordeep. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Father," they chorused obediently.

He nodded. "Good. Then let us move on."

"This is my study," he explained. "As I am a Bishop of the Old Faith, I have paperwork to complete myself. It is also where I write my letters as well as write and review my doctrines, so if you have need of me in the evening after your bedtime, then here is where you will find me."

"Father, what does it mean to be a Bishop and what is the Old Faith?" Kalinor asked.

"And what's a doctrine?" Lida added.

Kallamar smiled. "You will receive further education on the matter, and so your questions will be answered in full in time, but suffice to say that the Old Faith is our religion as well as the system of government within our lands, as dictated by the doctrines that are the rules our followers must follow, and as a Bishop, I am one of its leaders."

The paralarvae chittered amongst themselves at this news before one spoke up. "So that means you're important, Father."

He smiled. "Indeed I am. And as you are my children." His expression softened. "You are important as well."

"We are?"

"As Bishop of Pestilence, I declare it so." Mala smiled warmly as the paralarvae cheered at this proclamation.

"Lord Kallamar," said Mala. "I think it is time to put them to bed."

Kallamar turned to investigate. The paralarvae's energies had been dwindling over the past half hour and they now looked ready to fall asleep where they stood. His expression softened. "Yes," he agreed. "It would seem that it is." So he changed direction and led them back to their room. They were yawning by the time they arrived.

Mala helped them out of their clothes one after the other and planted a kiss on their foreheads. "Good night, my little one."

"Good night, Mother," they mumbled sleepily in reply before toddling over to Kallamar to be put to bed. One by one he picked them up and smiling down at them fondly bid them a good night. "Good night, Father," they mumbled, and he placed them down on the bed one by one, until they were all in. He pulled the covers up to their chins and Mala sang them into sleep.

When they were certain the paralarvae were asleep, they slipped quietly from the room and Kallamar closed the door behind them. "And so concludes our first day."

"They were so curious," Mala remarked. "Though I'm not sure what I was expecting."

"Some were more so than others," he replied.

She smiled. "Would I be correct in assuming that Kalinor is already your favourite, Lord Kallamar?"

He smiled back. "Your assumption is accurate, Mala. But there is still time for the others to impress me."

"Like Lida?" She asked.

"… Yes…" Kallamar's expression became thoughtful. "That reminds me. I should gift her a notebook and pen so she can write down her poetry."

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea, Lord Kallamar. I'm sure she'll be delighted."

His smile faded. "As for Coral… It would seem that we will have to keep a closer eye on her in future."

"Yes," she sighed. "I just hope this isn't the beginning, or else I swear that child will be the death of me."

"Well let us hope that it doesn't come to that. But between the two of us I am confident that we can manage."

"Yes," she said again, nodding slowly in agreement. "And I suppose she will learn over time."

"Indeed… Though it surprises me that she's the only one…"

"You were expecting more?"

"The fact that she is so far alone in her behaviour is itself unusual," he clarified. "You would expect there to be some of them, or none of them."

Mala frowned. "Yes… That is true… What do you think it means?"

He blinked. "I do not know. It is too early to say. And perhaps it is nothing."

"Perhaps… I suppose we'll see."

"So will shall," he replied. "Now then, Mala, I must attend to my duties."

"Of course, Lord Kallamar." She bowed her head. "Good night." He inclined his head in turn and took his leave, leaving Mala free to spend the evening as she saw fit.

A/N: Lida's name comes from sepiolida.