Talla's Temple Ch. 07

The wall on the right had a gap in it. There were two pillars bracketing that gap. The pillars extended all the way to the ceiling without any arches. If arches mattered, what good were those?

She swallowed her mouthful and washed it down with juice.

"Atreya told me I would get yellow clothing," she said, trying to imagine jumping up in station like that. "Can I just skip ahead?"

"No, you can not," a firmer, older voice came from her left.

Talla sucked in a breath as her Sorceress pushed aside the privacy curtain. At least she didn't have food in her mouth for her first meeting with her Discipline's leader.

"Mistress," both girls exclaimed.

Meena stood immediately. Talla made to get out of bed but the older woman waved her back.

"No, no. Rest."

She gave Meena a once over as she sat on the bed and focused her attention on Talla.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. Her voice was very soft, much like the blond, wavy hair that framed her face. It was a curious contrast, where the golden hair fell upon the green cloth.

"Well, Mistress," she said. "Though a bit sore."

Abundance hummed softly.

"That will be all, Meena," she said without taking her gaze away from Talla.

Meena curtsied carefully and backed out of the private space the curtains had created.

"You can not jump ahead," Abundance said as she adjusted her sash to cut properly across her bikini top. She pointed to the ceiling and added, "No more than I could build the third floor before the second."

"Then what am I now, Mistress?"

"You are a Virgin, both in rank and in, ah, common terminology," she replied. "We'll have a top that will fit you. That's easy. As well, you will be accelerated. But you can not claim the rank your breasts declare without the other upgrades that go with it, and those can only be added to your body so quickly."

Talla grimaced. "This I know, Mistress."

Abundance grimaced as well. "Let me see."

Talla raised her eyebrows but didn't dare disobey. She shrugged her robe off her shoulders. If she felt mature facing Meena, she felt positively juvenile facing her Sorceress. Even covered by the well reinforced bikini and single sash that crossed her left breast from over her left shoulder, each of the Sorceress's breasts were obviously more than Talla could hold even if she used both of her hands. Talla's breasts, meanwhile, were a bare handful each.

Abundance didn't seem to care. She examined Talla without touching her, looking from one side to the other.

"The swelling seems to have gone down," she said. "Put your arms up and I'll measure you."

A tape with enumerated markings on it was produced from a pocket in her skirt. She unspooled it and wrapped it around Talla's chest at the level of her nipples.

"Four, as we thought," she said. She pursed her lips as she rolled up the tape.

"Is something wrong, Mistress?"

Abundance thought about this a moment.

"To claim the rank of Keeper, you need more than just the four upgrades in Abundance," she explained. "You will choose four upgrades in some combination of Point and Strength as well as one upgrade from another Division. Point and Strength I can grant you on my own authority, as long as you choose two in each. But I can not grant anything from another Division. With your lack of seniority -"

Talla was starting to lose track of the conversation. No one had explained to her yet how women competed for upgrades. Getting an upgrade in her own Discipline was a simple matter of fulfilling sexual quotas and, at higher ranks, passing written examinations. That much she had been taught. All she had been told about the other upgrades was that "there is competition for them".

It sounded like she was automatically excluded from these competitions for some reason.

"Does it mean I'll get a lesser choice, Mistress?"

"In all likelihood, I'm afraid so, yes," the older woman told her. "But you only get one such upgrade anyway, so it won't be too bad."

Talla nodded. She still felt very awkward. She was sitting next to someone important; she wasn't properly dressed; she had neither bowed nor curtsied. She pulled her robe back on and tried to find a calm centre to the situation.

Abundance let out a sigh. "Mind you, there are other requirements: various duties and sexual quotas. On top of that, no one gets more than one upgrade per month except in the most dire of circumstances. It can become dangerous."

The older woman hesitated then, glancing at Talla's chest. Talla looked down in to her cleavage. Clearly they both realized that she could handle quite a number of upgrades at once.

"So the sooner I start Serving, the sooner I can move up?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," the Sorceress responded, a little surprised.

"It's up to me, right, the first one?"

"Yes. That was Dictated. You know that."

Dictated. Meaning: by the gods. No one could deny the choice of when she gave up her virginity or the partner to whom she would give it.

"Then I choose tonight," she said. "I will find Zhair'lo."

Abundance was clearly taken aback at her hastiness.

"Are you certain?" she asked. Her lips were steady, but her eyes brightened as if she were hiding a smile. "Have you even tried standing up yet?"

"Um, no," Talla replied.

There being no time like the present, she swung her feet over the left side of the narrow cot and planted them on the floor. With a deep breath and fully prepared for a wave of dizziness, she stood up.

She glanced around tentatively.

"How do you feel?"

"Okay," she said. And it was true. Nothing seemed to be wrong. She looked down at her chest. "A bit awkward, though."

"As I said, a proper top will be provided shortly," Abundance said. "In the meantime, if you're well, you can put on your old clothing and head downstairs to file for your Service schedule."

The older woman's voice had changed. Imperious was the only word to describe it. This was her Mistress, now, giving an order.

"Yes, Mistress," she replied and bowed her head.

So that was that. Her convalescence had come to end. She was expected to keep up with everyone else. With a flip of green skirt, the Sorceress was gone.

I'm just like everyone other woman, she thought. She started getting dressed. The long skirt went on easily enough. Nothing down there had changed. The top, though, was fresh and new. The one thing that struck her about life inside the Temple was the efficiency of the whole thing. They planned everything out.

So her old top, the strapless one, was gone. A new one had replaced it. This one, designed for someone with actual breasts, had straps. But it was also designed for someone who had received one or possibly two upgrades. They probably didn't make a white bikini top in her size. She was supposed to be a Keeper by that point and be wearing yellow.

Abundance had made it clear, however, that a proper top would show up.

She spent some time adjusting it. The only real Protocol she had to obey was the one that said her nipples ought to be covered. That was easy. But she also had to move and her flesh was still raw and sore. Did she really want to see Zhair'lo tonight? So fragile?

Yes. Yes, she did.

She settled for tucking the stiff underside of the bikini under her breasts and letting the fabric cover as much of her from there as possible. She still felt embarrassingly exposed, but at least it would stay in place.

Now what?

Get out of Principia Abundance. She had no place in the Sorceress's offices now that her Mistress had kicked her out. She walked out of the private little corner they had constructed for her and moved in the general direction of the mysteriously useless pillars she had seen before.

She had to admit, as she first took in the scale of the place, that it was beautiful. The arches and pillars were artistically simple but well arranged. Most of the Principia Abundance was open, so once she stepped out of the place in which she had slept, she could see from one end of it to the other. Pillars, arches and evenly spaced desks filled the place from wall to wall. Some of the desks were empty. Some had several Officers and Acolytes gathered around them discussing various drawings. In another section, more women in orange bikinis were gathered in a circle of chairs. There was only one exit in the centre of the wall farthest from the useless pillars.

She took the opportunity to walk along the wall that led to those pillars and discreetly banged her elbow on the nearest one. She heard a metallic ping that reverberated inside the pillar.

Hollow! Ha!

Even allowing that metal might be stronger than stone, that was still suspicious.

The noise she had created had attracted attention however. From the gap between the pillars, an Officer appeared. "Some trouble walking, girl?"

Talla bowed her head. "Sorry, Mistress," she said. "Clumsy today."

The woman's features softened then. Perhaps she realized who Talla was.

"Off you go, then," she said. "Exit's that way."

Well, that was the end of exploring this room. She turned on her heel and left the green draped room through the large oak doors, passing several dozen of her seniors hard at work.

The three storey high room she found herself in was one she recognized easily. She was in the marble floored Offices of Endowment. She was standing on the second floor balcony looking down at the circular rows of desks. The Offices of Abundance were in the back of the building, prominently placed in the middle. Strength and Point would each take a side of the second floor. The Queen would take the entire third floor.

Nothing to do now but walk around to the stairways and find the registration desk. She felt conspicuous in her ill-fitting white clothing amongst all these scantily clad women in orange, but no one seemed to pay her any attention. This time, though, she noticed the guards at the bottom of the stairs before they popped up in her face.

"You have business here, girl?" the nearer of the two asked.

She wondered what rank she had to get to before they stopped addressing her that way.

"I'm registering for Service, Mistress," she answered. The guard was in armour and was probably from Form, so Talla was only guessing with that 'Mistress'.

"Desk seventeen," the guard replied and pointed toward the back of the room. Back there were the doors she had once seen and wondered about. Now she knew: those doors led to the Augmentation Chamber. But she wouldn't be going there. Desk seventeen was just in front of them. A dark-haired woman wearing two crossing orange sashes was there.

"Yes, girl," she said without looking up from her papers.

Acolyte II, Talla realized. They ranked high around here.

"I'm here to register," she stammered. "Um, to begin Service."

The woman turned to a series of stacked, narrow shelves on her left. Her hand hovered over the shelf marked 'Virgins'.

"Name?"

"Talla, daughter of Kain out of -"

But the Acolyte had already pulled out a thin folder.

"Here you are," she said, "You mean to begin tonight?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Have you selected a young man, or would you prefer for us to do it?"

"I have. His name is Zhair'lo M'han."

The Acolyte smiled, but only briefly. "Yes. Of course."

She laid Talla's file out on the desk and placed a small red pad next to it.

"It is my duty to tell you that you may delay the beginning of your Service as long as you wish. This is a Dictate of the gods. But once you begin, you may not turn back. Do you understand?"

"I do, Mistress."

"Then place your index finger on the pad and make your mark here," she said, pointing at a place on the form.

Talla did so, feeling the last vestiges of her childhood wither away under the gentle force of her fingertip on the parchment.

"Good", the Acolyte said. She flipped the form around and began scribbling dates and other information on it. "Now the question of pacing."

"Pacing?"

"The mandatory quota for someone your age and rank is once per week," she said, "Most set themselves at two or three. The pacing is up to you."

Talla thought about this for a moment. She really, desperately wanted to be with Zhair'lo. But once she began, she would be doled out high and low to whomever came up in the Service queue. That was her duty and her pleasure as a servant of the Temple.

She looked down at her chest. She'd suffered a lot to get those. She didn't want to waste all that suffering by achieving her quotas at some snail's pace.

"How many times must I Serve to become an Initiate?"

The Acolyte also eyed Talla's chest, perhaps reaching some separate conclusion.

"You do realize that there are obligations besides sex?"

"Yes, Mistress. But how many -?"

"Fifty two."

Exactly one year if she did it the slow way. How nice. She had no interest in that.

"How fast can I go?"

"No one may Serve more than five times a week. It would interfere with your other duties."

"Then set me to five."

"As you wish," the other woman responded dubiously. "You should know that you can slow down if you find the pace, shall we say, untenable at a later time."

"Thank you, Mistress."

More scratches on the paper which was then placed in a box at the corner of the desk.

"You'll be in the rotation now," the woman explained. "Check in here every day any time between lunch and sixth bell to see if you have an assignment -- sexual or otherwise."

A second, fresh sheet was taken from a drawer. This one was something special, detailed with a white, lacy border. The Acolyte wrote Talla's name at the top and Zhair'lo's underneath it. She handed it to Talla.

"Take this to Booking. Desk One."

And that was that. The Acolyte was back to work.

Desk One, then, was the one just on the left as one entered from the ground floor. Another busy woman, this one in an orange bikini top, waited there.

"Yes?" she asked without looking up.

Talla slid her form across the desk.

"Ah. Virgin's Choice?" This woman also had stacked shelves from which to draw folders.

"Zhair'lo," she said as she thumbed through them. "Zhair'lo. Where is he? Ah! Of course." She opened a drawer of her desk and pulled out a folder.

"He was being held for you. Naturally."

"Held for me?"

"Well, he's a virgin as well, isn't he? In the common sense of the word," she explained. She tapped an odd shaped tag on the folder. "So, being your Conduit, we held him for you. Many Virgins make such a choice as you have."

She opened the folder. Talla expected it to be as empty as hers, but it had several sheets of parchment already in it. On the first one, she recognized the Temple Script of her own name. It appeared twice. It was followed by several other names. She wasn't strong in Temple Script yet, but she thought she recognized Atreya's title and that of the Second of Within. The Acolyte flipped the sheet away quickly.

"Here we are," she said, indicating the latest line on a different sheet. "He's out in the farms, third sector. The short side of twenty one. Have you ever been out there?"

"No, Mistress."

This caused the woman to frown.

"Seela?" she called out.

"Mara," a woman behind her replied without looking up.

"You got anyone headed out toward three stroke twenty one?"

"Hell, probably," Seela responded and began rifling through sheets of paper. "Here," she said holding one up. "Inga's headed that way."

"Rank?"

"Adept."

"Tag her to meet with Talla."

"Done," Seela declared firmly, scribbling on a small piece of paper and clipping it to the file she'd found.

"So," Mara explained to Talla, "wait at the entrance to Endowment Hall at seventh bell. Inga's an Adept and she'll know you're a Virgin, so you should be able to find each other. Got it?"

Talla nodded.

"Now off with you. I'm busy."

"Yes, Mistress."

So that was it.

Organized. Planned. All but executed.

She'd see Zhair'lo tonight.

Two virginities would be lost.

Horses were unpleasant animals to break. He'd learn that his first day. But if you could get past that point and be allowed to ride one someone else had broken, they were actually quite nice.

"You've got a pretty good seat after all," Harzen observed as Zhair'lo rode the horse around the small corral.

He'd worked with horses at the blacksmith. One of the most important duties of a blacksmith was fitting a horse with a proper shoe. The farmers and transport men had pretty high expectations regarding the health of their steeds. Shoeing a horse, though, was relatively safe. A proper horseman would bring the horse in and walk it in to a small pen. Then he'd get out of the way and let the blacksmiths get to work with their measuring, trimming and fitting. The horse was never able to move.

But actually handling a horse? There were rules and they weren't the kind crafted for politeness. They were the kind that kept you alive.

Don't approach a horse from behind. Don't approach it from the front either. Don't spook the horse. Always talk in a calm voice so the horse knows where you are. But hurry up for the gods' sake, we don't have all day.

"Shift your weight a little forward," Harzen advised.

The man's voice was quite kindly. Zhair'lo didn't understand what he had done, or what had happened, that had changed Harzen's attitude. Regardless, he meekly accepted the advice whilst intensely trying to stay on the horse.

"Relax a little," Harzen reminded him. "The horse can feel your tension."

Easy for him to say. He took a few more trips around the coral while the old man watched him from the centre of the fenced ring. Harzen could do this effortlessly. Zhair'lo imagined that everybody else on the farm could, too.

"That's enough for today. It's time for dinner, at any rate."

He dismounted the horse, managing to completely avoid getting tangled in the stirrup and making an ass of himself. They began walking the horse back to the stable.

Well, no time like the present to ask ...

"Harzen?"

"Hm?"

"Is it a problem if I head in to town after dinner?"

Harzen blew out a breath that sounded like mockery.

"You're an adult now. You know that, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"I've got no business telling you what to do once your work is done."

He let that sink in a moment.

"Hoping to catch another Initiation?"

"Um, no," Zhair'lo answered quickly. That was actually furthest from his mind. "Just wanted to see some of my friends."

Harzen nodded.

"Look, kid," Harzen told him. "You have every right to want to be in town. That blue ribbon only stays with you for two years. Why they tried to put you out here on your birthday, I will be thrice damned if I understand. Seems damned cruel, by my eye."

Zhair'lo was taken aback at this. It was the longest Harzen had ever spoken to him.

"Go in to town, see your friends. If you're lucky, you might catch another long skirt. But for the gods' sake, be here at eighth bell."

"Eighth bell? Why?"

"Because you -"

The older man stopped walking and looked at Zhair'lo for a moment. He pensively scratched the side of a knuckle on his shadow of facial hair. There was a distinct lack of certainty in what he said next.

"Because you should be. Can't make you, though, nor really explain why. Can't even be sure there's anything in it for you."

That was as obtuse a piece of advice as he'd ever received.

"Let's say someone might visit and leave it at that, though it's not terribly likely."

Another pause.

"You upgraded that girl just last night?"

Zhair'lo nodded.

"Not terribly likely, then."

Right. It's not like they'd expect him to do another upgrade so soon, would they?

"Madra Zen!" Lara exclaimed.

It was a fairly juvenile curse, spoken mainly by children who had no idea what they were saying. Talla hadn't heard it in a while. The last time was from a four year old in her dormitory outside the Temple. She had admonished the child for using a god's name like that. Then she had been admonished in turn.