Kavala would have no way of knowing, not having an Avalis mark, that going through her book of Gods copied from the Valkalah Library would give her a better insight on what was going to happen in the future. She’d need the knowledge she learned today to definitely recover from a shock that would profoundly strike her system no less than a year from today.
Opening the pages, Kavala scanned down, not exactly sure where to start.. She could go alphabetically, and that made the most sense, but there were Gods she cared about and Gods she’d never heard about. Kavala wanted this study session to be a three fold goal. First and foremost she wanted to advance her skills of meditation. She wanted to meditate on each and every God, pull up their image in her mind if it was described, and then on the Gods and Goddesses she respected or worshiped create lifesized statues. Kavala had no sculpting experience, but using reimancy she didn’t really need any. Djed could be her tools, the art stemming from her mind, and divinity spreading out before her. That’s why she was set up in the sacred circle in The Sanctuary and was sitting locus style on a silk pillow with a long body sized table low to the ground stretching out before her. She knew her attempts at art would take significant time, but she also was willing to put in the time because each of the Gods and Goddesses were getting effigies to them designed here. The Sanctuary was to be a holy place of the faithful, not unlike like a monastery though reverent in ways that perhaps moved past boarders of faith and faithful.
She wanted the denizens and the very halls she lived in to give nods to those that watched over The Sanctuarians and thank them in ways of devotion. The statues that she would create would be some of those ways of paying back. Kavala had a deep seeded suspicion that any and all worship added strength to The Gods and Goddesses and that strength in turn benefited the faithful in ways that made everyone on Mizahar utterly linked.
So it was that Kavala settled in, keeping her back strait, her arms loose, and gently opened the page of her book on Gods and Goddesses to Akajia. She slid her eyes down the words, absorbing what the text had to say. Akajia ruled over the night and it was said that Syna bowed to Akajia by gifting half the day to her each and every rotation of the world. For, it seemed, darkness and light always needed a balance. And even as Syna blazed out in the form of candles, and lanterns cutting the darkness, Akajia survived during the day in the shadows the sun cast on the world. So she was rumored to be more than darkness, more than night. She was stealth and secrets and all things that were kept closely guarded.
The Goddess, it was said, searched for the ultimate secrets. She had followers that did so as well. Her quest was a secret one, that would never be revealed in the light of day, and so sometimes Akajia was called the seeker as well.
Kavala closed her eyes, let the book slip away, and settled into a meditative pose. She let the darkness behind her eyes surround and engulph her. The Konti slowed her breathing, letting her mind drift…
She floated in a sea of night. There were no stars, no lights, no visual stimulation at all. Blackness swirled around her though, like the refracted light in Onyx, and echoed to her that there were a thousand vibrant shades of darkness all around her. Kavala signed in the pleasure of nothing and felt her secrets close around her. The more she breathed, the more she imagined darkness sinking into her lungs. It soaked into her soul, and blanking her mind and consciousness.
In a way it was unburdening, cleansing, and she felt the need to examine all her secrets one by one and cast them into Ajakia’s arms. It was as if the dark goddess stood before her and Kavala stared at her in awe. And even though the Konti still sat on her silk pillow, her eyes closed and her breathing regular, there was no questioning n that in her mind she was indeed combing through Akajia’s world.
When she was fulfilled and when she’d felt ready to open her eyes, she had. She gasped at the starkness of the room and mourned at how even in the darkness of the Sacred Circle the candlelight chased away the night. It was offensive to her and had she the ability she would have reached out with her mind and snuffed the lights out, welcoming the shadows to become utterly at one with the world.
Instead she turned to the empty table before her, a table only six inches off the ground. Some cultures actually ate at such things. The Drykas did. They were easily packed away and didn’t need to be broken down. Other cultures would have lain out on the table, sleeping for the night. Kavala did neither. She stretched her hands forward, called up her reimancy and began extruding djed. There was so much pure earthen djed it coated the table before it rose up in a huge life-sized human form and settled on the table as if it had always meant to be.
The Djed flowed from her, tasked like a shield, and then slowly shaped itself to the delicate beauty of a battle trained woman with blue black skin. She lay stretched out on the table, formed of deep onyx. Kavala imagined her with flowing bare shouldered feminine robes that displayed parts of her armor and bare skin. Kavala hardened the stone until it was a statue and then rose from her place, to stand over the leviathan and stare down at the statue she had just created. Kavala formed more res, extruded it, and began shaping details like eyes, nose, and mouth. Kavala’s hands massaged the stone until the shape beneath her fingers formed by the cooling djed. Lips became strong, full, slightly upturned as if the Goddesss held a secret. Her eyes were closed, unrevealing, though long lashes gave her incredibly grace.
Kavala swirled other colors of stone into it so the Goddess looked like she was made up of shadows coming together. Sculpting the features with magic, Kavala truthfully made Akajia in her own image and then built her up from there, giving her almost Akalak- like features and floral patterns that reminded her of Riverfall.
Akajia, according to the book, was one of the patron Goddesses of Riverfall. Her blood in the Akalak veins was what gave them their rich dark colors. So Kavala gave a nod to Riverfall and with her bare hands manipulated the stone robes that were cascading down form and turned them into the likeness of a waterfall that frothed at her feet.
Kavala worked on the statue for hours, carving down fine details, worrying about length of hair, eyelashes and even nails. She fussed and fussed until the statue was all but done. The djed she’d extruded had cooled leaving the stone statue almost like a corpse stretched out . But Kavala thought she’d travel well and sent for Aweston who was able to stand the statue up and place it against the wall.
One deity down…a couple hundreds left.
