Okay, so maybe she could still be bold during her official clanning rite. With a different dress that covered more. Much more. Michaela thought she would also tone down her original plans for the clanning ceremony just as bit. As fun as an orgasmic ceremony sounded, it probably wasn’t the best route she could take in front of her mates’ parents.
* * * *
The cliffs along the shore ran north to south for about a mile in either direction from Michaela’s home before tapering down to rocky outcroppings about the height of an Earther one-story house. It was in a long stretch of outcroppings to the south that housed the local Temple of Life. It amused Michaela to note the temple was in the opposite direction of the market. She wondered if Korkla had deliberately sent her away from her shopping mecca.
Michaela chose to walk along the pink beach to get there. In the aftermath of what had happened the day before, her head was full of where she could be right now if her and Jessica’s clans hadn’t shown up to save the day. The walk helped to settle her nerves every bit as much as last night’s lovemaking had. The sand beneath her bare feet was as soft as baby powder. The emerald sea on her left hissed and rumbled in gruff but soothing tones. She drew deep breaths of the clean, salt-sea air and enjoyed how the whirling eddies lifted her hair from the nape of her neck. The distant sun played hide-and-seek behind marshmallow fluff clouds.
Michaela knew she was at the Temple of Life when weathered carvings appeared in the rock face. Kalquorians preferred natural settings, so she found it interesting that someone had taken the time in the distant past to sculpt figures of men, women, and animals on the stone. She could tell the carvings had once been quite detailed; in some places where the wind could not blow scouring sand so easily, those details announced themselves. The image of a fish-like creature tucked into a crevice still sported scales.
Michaela was so taken with the intricate carvings that she yelped in surprise when a live man stood before her, framed by an open arch dug into the rock. The robed man brought his hands up, fingers splayed wide, as if to show he was no threat.
“My apologies, Matara. I did not mean to startle you.” Nevertheless, there was a twinkle in his purple eyes and a slight smile creased his cheeks. Her reaction had amused him.
“My fault. I was too busy sightseeing to notice you standing there until we were face to face.” Michaela’s skin burned with embarrassment.
The man bowed, still smiling. His ankle-length hair, a curtain of black except for where it was braided at his temples, swung forward. “I recognize you. Allow me to express my delight in meeting you, Matara Michaela. I am the priest you spoke to on the com earlier.”
Michaela returned the bow, though she knew most Kalquorian men didn’t expect women to offer such a greeting. She found it impossible to not show instant respect to someone who wore the title of priest. “Master Imold, I hope I have not kept you waiting.”
“Not at all. You are early, in fact. I have just come out to greet your arrival.”
The Imdiko appeared to be around the same age as Michaela’s clanmates. He possessed the same natural muscularity of most Kalquorians, with a long, streamlined frame. His smile was a merry thing, something Michaela hadn’t expected to see from someone who pursued holy endeavors.
Imold ushered her into the archway, which led into a large unadorned hall inside the rock. Sand sat about in drifts, and the roughly hewn granite echoed their footsteps as she ventured into its cool environs.
The temple master gestured to the leftmost of three arched doorways that led further within the ground. “We will go into my consultation chamber. There I’ll be able to offer you comfortable seating and refreshment.”
“Thank you.”
Michaela thought she should feel guarded with this stranger who led her into unknown spaces. Yet there was a sense of joy about Imold that also possessed an aura of tranquility. He was robed in three colors which made Michaela think of the beach she’d just left: coral pink, emerald green, and the purest white she’d ever seen. A silver sash tied off at his trim waist. He was barefoot.
So was she. She still carried her slippers in her hand, and her own long skirt swished about her ankles. Michaela hoped she didn’t commit an affront by having entered the temple in bare feet. What if only the priests were allowed such liberty? Or maybe it was considered bad manners to wear shoes in the Kalquorian version of church.
As she debated whether or not to ask, feeling the cool, smooth rock beneath her feet, she passed through the entryway’s arch.
Michaela gasped as they entered the next chamber. It was a wide open space but for the granite columns that held the weight of the rock ceiling. As in the sand-strewn entryway, the floor had been buffed smooth enough to not cause trouble in walking it, but not so smooth to make one slip. But the rest of the chamber – her eyes widened enough that she thought they might fall out of her head.
Whoever had carved the outside of the temple had been hard at work on its interior as well. The elements had not done the damage in here that the wind and sand had visited upon the exterior.
Every column was a Kalquorian figure, huge and looming. Yet these figures were not threatening. Their size alone, about eight feet in height, should have daunted Michaela. However, the artistry was beautiful and the expressions on the stone people were peaceful. The dancer felt that she walked among gentle giants who only wished to bless her.
More carvings covered the walls and ceiling. These showed scenes of such exquisite detail that Michaela felt she could almost walk in and join the animals and people in their gardens, oceans, and trees.
She was made dizzy by breathlessness. Never had she seen anything to match the chamber’s astounding features.
Several seconds passed before Michaela realized she had forgotten about Master Imold. She drifted along the walls and from column to column, reveling in her surroundings. When she jerked back to reality, she discovered Imold had been silently following her, his smile still merry and eyes warm as he allowed her to explore.
“I am so sorry,” Michaela exclaimed. “It’s just I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s beautiful.”
“Do not apologize,” Imold said with gentle insistence. “The work is astounding, isn’t it? I’ve been here for 30 years, and I still discover at least a dozen new things in the carvings every day.”
“I can’t imagine how many people and how many years this took,” Michaela said, gazing up at one column. The robed Kalquorian woman that had been depicted looked down at her with a motherly smile, one hand outstretched as if she would embrace Michaela with it.
“The carving has been going on for at least 2000 years,” Imold said. “As for how many sculptors up until now? That question has never been answered.”
“Someone is still working on this?”
“In the rear caverns.” Imold looked at the columns with affection, as if viewing old friends. “There always seems to be an artist among our number; someone who continues to transform the temple rooms.”
Michaela made herself stop admiring the work about her. “I don’t mean to waste your time by playing tourist. We can go on to your consultation room.”
Imold shrugged. “If you wish. I don’t count your curiosity as wasting my time, but you can always explore the temple after we discuss your clanning ceremony. Any of the masters or aspirants here will be glad to answer the questions you might have.”
Michaela followed him further into the cave system that did not look anything like a cave. They passed more spaces in which masters led studies and classes. In one, robed temple priests and Kalquorians who appeared to be everyday people sat quietly, staring at a fire in the middle of the room. It seemed to Michaela that they were meditating. In another room, more people slowly moved into poses that seemed to involve a lot of stretching. Yet another room held a priest talking as a vid presentation played for half a dozen men. In another, a man read from a book to another half dozen people. Some wore shoes and some didn’t, settling her mind
on that issue.
The amazing carvings and columns were everywhere that Michaela looked. She was not surprised when Imold’s small consultation room held more of the same.
Imold motioned her to a huge white seating cushion that looked like a billowing cloud. “I am glad to see you well, given what the news vids reported happening yesterday. Are you as unhurt as you appear, Matara Michaela?”
She sank into the cushion, enjoying that it was every bit as soft as it looked. “I was pretty shaky afterwards, but I have a wonderful clan that manages to fix everything.”
Imold busied himself at a shelving unit that held a small cooling unit and glasses. “I have met Clan Korkla. From what I’ve seen, they are good men. You chose your lifemates well. I am thrilled that you’ve decided to allow one of us from this temple to perform your official clanning ceremony.”
He turned with a swish of robes and brought her a cup filled with thick orange liquid. Michaela accepted it with thanks and took a sip. It was a fruity drink, refreshing and delicious. She nodded her thanks and Imold stepped around the low table in front of her to sit on another white cushion.
After sipping a little more juice, Michaela told the priest, “I only know about Earther weddings. I hardly know where to begin with my own.”
Imold smiled. “Your ceremony rituals are entirely up to you. You are already clanned, but many enjoy the opportunity to share that happiness with friends and family. Clans celebrate as fits their particular needs.”
Michaela thought of her parents. Of the friends she’d known so long ago in Haiti, particularly the doctor who had hidden her secret. They had kept her alive, making it possible for her to find true love and acceptance. It made her sad to think they couldn’t see her happiness now, nor meet the men who had shown her she was fine the way she was.
Imold tilted his head, as if he could read all of her thoughts. “You will have few loved ones to attend on your behalf. This is the situation with the majority of Earther women who have joined us on Kalquor. Most have no one, save the Kalquorian friends they have made.”
Michaela swallowed the lump in her throat. “I have Jessica.”
“The empress. I hear she also fared well despite the abduction attempt. I am glad for that.” Imold leaned forward over the table, leaning his chin against his laced fingers. “Tell me about the parts of your culture you’d like to incorporate into your ceremony, Matara.”
Michaela blinked at him. “I can do that? I can use Earther rites here?”
Imold nodded, smiling as joyfully as before. “This is one of the most important days of your life, Matara. You can have anything you wish, so long as the rest of your clan agrees. The temple denies you nothing that is meaningful to you.”
Michaela tried to think of what she wanted in her wedding ceremony. She was too overwhelmed, however. Getting married was not something she ever believed would be possible for her. She’d never dared to imagine a lifelong commitment with anyone, not when her very existence hung in the balance.
She thought of the Earther weddings she’d attended and frowned. She hadn’t believed in the Church or its commandments. Women getting married had to attend classes that detailed what was expected of them: service to their husbands, bearing children, and always conducting themselves with modesty and humility. The vows of the marriage ceremony itself had been heavy on service to God, Church, and State, more so than loving one’s spouse and living happily ever after. None of that seemed to apply to her.
Master Imold interrupted her confusion. “I see you are a bit overcome.”
Michaela huffed an exasperated breath. “More than a bit. I feel like it would be nice to honor the people I came from, rather than the belief system forced on us.”
Imold pursed his lips as he considered. “Let’s think on it for a moment. Tell me something of your heritage.”
“My mother was from the Middle Eastern Bloc. Before Unification, her home was known as Saudi Arabia. It was very different from the places I grew up.”
“I see an opening there. Let’s start with your ceremony’s setting, using this place your mother’s ancestors came from. Are you familiar at all with how a home or important structure’s interior would look in the Middle Eastern Bloc?”
Michaela nodded. “I saw vids of some of the palaces that used to stand. Most were destroyed when the Northern Bloc invaded and took control. Some had a formal European influence, but my favorite rooms were ... how would I describe it? More organic, but elaborately so. Flowing architecture and details that were expanded on.”
“Can you give me an example?”
Michaela tried to come up with something familiar to Imold. “Like, if you took a wave coming in from your ocean and made the green of silk and the foam of velvet. The curve of it would be made absolutely perfect and stylized so your eye would just float over it. The designs of my ancestors were opulent and grand, but simple in form at the same time. Am I making any sense?”
Imold pulled a small, nearly flat computer out from under the table and tapped on its surface. “I believe so. Tell me if this fits.”
A vid sprang up in the air between them. It showed a bench made much as Michaela had described: the arms and legs of it curled like stylized waves. The bench’s main seating cushion was emerald green, fading into soft white as it reached the upholstered arms. It looked just like a wave cresting.
“That’s exactly it!” Michaela applauded with glee.
Imold looked pleased. “Would you like such a look as an overall backdrop to your ceremony? It could be a celebration of your mother’s people.”
Michaela could scarcely believe her luck that Imold would provide such a thing. “I would love that.”
Imold nodded and tapped on his computer again. “Very good. This is our starting point. From here, we will design the rest of the setting.”
Michaela’s mind swam with options now that the priest had given her a direction to head in. “Oh, we should have the music too. I have some recordings. And food for after the vows. I’ve already experimented with making Kalquorian food with a Middle Eastern influence. But there will be so many guests since Korkla is connected to the princes – I mean emperors. Do you think it can be done?”
“We have made many Earther Mataras happy with their ceremonies.” There was no doubt in Imold’s demeanor. “We will be able to figure out a great many things if you will work with us.”
“I will. Thank you, Master Imold. And here I thought you would just want to read me scriptures and pray ... or whatever you guys do here.”
Imold arched a brow. “Oh, we’ll get to that.”
Michaela started. Again, she thought of rites that preached Church and State, Church and State, and rarely the love between men and women. But Imold said her ceremony would be what she wanted...
Then she noted the man’s mischievous grin and the teasing light in his eyes. For heaven’s sake, Imold was putting her on.
She snickered and shook her head at him. “A priest with a sense of humor. I never saw that on Earth.”
“No?”
“No, they always looked pissed off because we were all so sinful. I like your way better.”
“Good. As I said, this is your day. We put a high priority on the happiness of the Matara.” Imold went about tapping on his computer again. “Let’s talk about your vows.”
“Okay. Oh, I think I should warn you about my dress too. My clan says it’s no big deal, but ... well ... I’m not so sure.” Michaela thought about her scanty excuse of a gown and her face warmed. “You are a priest and I guess this ceremony counts as a holy thing, right? I shouldn’t be ... um ... risqué?”
Imold chuckled again. “Ah, so you’re celebrating the Empire’s lack of inhibitions as well. The joining ceremony might include physical joining?”
Michaela’s face was no longer warm. It flamed. The priest laughed and reached over to pat her hand like a comforting friend.
Making his demeanor mock-serious, Imold said, “Let me note
this down: plastic sheeting beneath the clan to protect the flooring from spills.”
That did it. Michaela erupted in hysterical laughter, not quite believing a priest would make such a bawdy joke. When she could speak again, she said, “Okay, okay, it’s not a big deal after all. You guys are something else.”
He snickered, unrepentant. “Eventually you will take our acceptance of natural urges for granted.”
“No, Master Imold. That is something I will never take for granted. You can bet on that.” There was no humor in Michaela’s tone.
“Then you are fortunate to know to appreciate what you have been given, even if that ability grew from an unfortunate history.”
She snorted. “Now you’re sounding like a priest.”
* * * *
Two hours later, Michaela and Imold had a basic outline in place for the clanning ceremony. The priest planned to send her a list of caterers who had familiarized themselves with Earther-type food, along with decorators who might be able to realize the perfect setting.
She couldn’t resist teasing him. “You’re not just a priest; you’re an event planner.”
Imold laughed along with her. “I admit I tend to go beyond the usual tasks the temple sets for priests when it comes to clanning ceremonies. I love putting such celebrations together, and you Earther Mataras have given me many opportunities to indulge myself.”
Michaela left Imold feeling happy in her heart. With so much already in place for the date she still had to set with her clan, she had no concerns about the ceremony.
It was close to lunchtime. That meant Michaela had all afternoon to kill before her men returned home from work. Too delighted with life to go home and be alone, she decided she would visit the marketplace.
Half an hour from the Temple of Life, Michaela put her slippers on and entered the tunnel that went from the cliff-hugging beach to the underground marketplace. The well-lit tunnel was meant for pedestrian traffic. The only vehicles allowed to use it belonged to emergency responders.
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