No day like the first day.
That was the motto etched into the doorway of her home. For many of her years, she had made that very phrase the backbone of her many decisions.
On occasion, she recited it for herself and others her own age to bolster perseverance. It stood as a well-received saying to those with the patience to understand it. Then they would regret taking her advice once they found out that she was raised in a brothel.
Growing up west of the canal was an almost certain indicator of poverty. The city's north was for the Hurc, the East for the Human (Shahari) and the south was for the Alven.
The west was where all the less affluent of all races lived. West of the canal, however, was where a small island had formed after the Blood River. On that island was where all the city's debauchery took place.
That was her home.
Which was why Souki felt obligated to be successful.
She had, according to the older residents in the west, the purest Iké they had felt in years.
So passing the soul trial three months ago felt almost inevitable. So much so that they had gone out of their way to meet her at the gate.
Her childhood was wrought with memories of being sent outside to wander the city for hours. Her earlier teenage years were spent managing the brothel herself. Even the task of surviving a week beyond the border was met with a fervour of determination that came to her as naturally as breathing.
Within the walls of the central office, all of that cultivated pride seemed to evaporate in the lobby.
With its marble floors and several gilded chandeliers time itself became lost in the distracting furnishings of the Temple. Patience was swallowed up, only excitement remained.
Souki sat there, fingers tapping a frantic rhythm against the metal frame of her chair.
Three months ago, she returned to Rému, a certified child of Astra as they had ensured her survival. There was a bit of fear as she had not received even a compliment from the Temple since she got back
That was until yesterday.
A bit of a short notice but when desperation meets opportunity, complaint becomes a scant option.
Besides there was no other Shiear she would rather work under.
The stories she heard about the Astran soldiers who had sacrificed themselves to see this city remain in the northern territory. The retellings of Aisha, during The Blood River, who took out a titan on her lonesome only twenty years prior.
If one aspired to stamp their names into the history books, Remu was the city to do it.
An hour early she had arrived, her heart racing upon entry. The receptionist had smiled a mask of practiced warmth and pressed onto the back of her left hand a visitors' seal. The singsong in her tone as she informed her that "the Shiear will be available shortly".
The minutes since then had stretched themselves and the lobby remained a stilled canvas. The only moments of movement remained the hands appearing and disappearing in bursts of white.
One hand visited spending the longest period in the lobby. He had done scheduling with reception. With him was a tall human who stood by his side. His feet were shoeless and draped himself in a long brown cloak held together at the front only allowing an opening for his face.
He happened upon Souki while he scanned the room, but before he could establish any meaningful observation, the Hand grabbed him and they both disappeared.
An hour and a half, the sand in the minute glass refusing to drop whenever she looked at them. Was she in the wrong lobby? Had they forgotten her?
The Temple stood at the epicenter of every functioning fragment North of the border. The building itself was made up of many branching wings and bridges that lay interlinked all over the city. It was possible that she sat in the wrong office. Being that they dealt with thousands of people daily, the chances of her being forgotten were equal to its opposite.
Time in silence had led her to realise that in her past she remained the big fish in a small pond. Here at the heart of magic energy, religious belief and business alike, there existed a place for a girl born inside the walls of a brothel, to a father who never thought twice of revisiting her.
She locked eyes with the receptionist who had taken it upon herself to glance in this direction every twenty-five minutes. This time her smile strained and unsure.
"Just a few more minutes," she said reigniting Souki's racing pulse.
She always wanted to work for The Temple, it was an aspiration since youth. Not to mention the sheer number of occupations under the Shiears leadership.
There were the hands who, in the eyes of the public, served as law enforcement.
Then there were bellmen responsible for transportation. Whether people or weapons. Once they knew exactly where something was supposed to go then they could send it there.
Then there were the priests who were the Temple's clerics. They truly did most of the heavy lifting. Charged with the deciphering of scrolls and categorizing the magical techniques. They taught in the schools and managed the Temple, even acting as merchants during trade.
On top of all that, they were still charged with maintaining and cleaning all gear and weaponry.
They were quite simply the jack of all trades when it came to serving Astra.
Souki hoped she didn't have to be a priest.
As if sensing the end of her internal inquiry, the doors swung open.
The Shiear herself, floated through the gaping port. Long black hair tailed her movements, as her embroidered coat clung to her shoulders. Her left arm bandaged from palm to elbow but swung freely at her side. Her bright green eyes were ageless and beamed with wisdom, they met Souki's.
"Gyé child born west of the canal," she said closing her eyes and tilting her head towards the young girl.
She paused to close her eyes in greeting, then seemed to hesitate for a moment, before she smirked to herself, "that is really pure... And plentiful. You could probably power a whole city with that thing."
Souki rose returning the welcoming gesture, her legs trembling. The lobby had held her captive, but now she could finally accept the embrace of her future.
"Gyé Ms. Jabaani ma'am, sir." her words rid themselves of restraint in a manner most efficient for embarrassment, "it seems better if I let you speak."
The Shiear chuckled placing her right arm around the girl and dragging her into the office, "we're family now, so you can say whatever you want."