[18+] Today’s story is the first of two parts of “Glory of the Gods” by NightEyes DaySpring, a known troublemaker who is rumored to have a penchant for coffee and an interest in dead, ancient civilizations. NightEye’s work has appeared in Heat, Fang and other anthologies. He can be found on Twitter at @wolfwithcoffee and information about his writing can be found on his website nighteyes-dayspring.com.

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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

and Today’s story is the first of two parts of

“Glory of the Gods”

by NightEyes DaySpring,

a known troublemaker who is rumored to have a penchant for coffee

and an interest in dead,

ancient civilizations.

NightEye’s work has appeared in Heat,

Fang and other anthologies.

He can be found on Twitter

at @wolfwithcoffee

and information about his writing can be found on his website

nighteyes-dayspring.com. [if this is the second or third

entry] Please enjoy:

“Glory of the Gods”

by NightEyes DaySpring,

Part 1 of 2 I breathe in,

trying to still my racing mind.

The high priest of Diana stands before me in the sanctuary of the goddess.

The bear lifts his arms up,

ready to begin the ceremony.

“Kneel,” he says to me.

I get down on both knees,

letting my tail sweep out behind me,

lying against the cold stone.

I am naked for the ritual,

having washed and purified my fur with scented oils before brushing it out carefully.

I am ready to receive the goddess’s boon.

I look up at the bear,

waiting. “Are you ready jackal?”

I nod. The priest steps forward,

and I am eye level to his groin.

I lower my head, dipping my muzzle. I need to focus on the ritual.

Fabric rustles as the bear raises his arms.

“Oh goddess of the hunt and moon,

this acolyte seeks your wisdom.

He wishes to join the Brotherhood.”

There is a gust of wind inside the sanctuary.

The braziers flicker

and then they are still, slowly crackling.

The goddess is here,

watching us, ready to see my pledge.

“To serve the goddess, you must be pure of heart.

To learn what she knows, you must be unafraid to see the truth in others.

Wisdom must be your only guide.

Are you pure of heart, Askan?” “I am.” “Are you unafraid to see?” the priest asks

me. “I am.” “Are you ready for wisdom to be your only guide?” “I am.” “Oh goddess, do you accept Askan into our order?”

The air is still, and the fires crackle. We wait, but nothing happens. There is no sign from the goddess. I hear the shuffling of fabric as the priest lowers

his arms after a while,

but I am still focused

on the ground in front of me,

waiting. “You may stand,”

he says. I stand. He steps towards me,

pats me on the shoulder, and shakes his head.

He walks away. “Wait,

that’s it?” I say to him, turning around.

“She didn’t accept you.

If she had, she would have made a sign.”

I feel my ears drop.

“But I did everything I had to do.”

The priest stops and turns to me.

“Maybe you did, and maybe you didn’t. She chooses

her followers carefully.

Perhaps she did not find you pure of heart or ready to learn.

Perhaps she has entirely different designs for you other than joining our order. I don’t know.

All I know is that there was no sign,

and I can’t welcome you into our order

at this time.” I don’t know what to say.

I have spent the entire last year of my life preparing for the initiation, purging myself of everything but my love of knowledge.

All that appears to have been in vain now.

Only those younger than twenty-one years of age can join,

and my birthday is in a month.

It will be a full year before the order accepts new members.

Everything in my life has led up to this moment,

and now it’s been denied me.

“But, I will be too old to join next year.”

“Then you can’t join the order.

It is up to you to find what path she thinks you should follow.” The high

priest walks out of the sanctuary, leaving me alone with the braziers burning.

It takes me a while before I can muster the energy to leave the deserted courtyard. #

I roll over onto my stomach on the cot that is my bed.

I stare at where the wall and the floor meet across the room.

“You know, if you don’t get up and bathe at some point, I’m going to get another housemate.”

I flick my ears. “A whole year, Sanis.”

The fennec walks up and pokes me.

“Not everyone can join the Brotherhood of the Scroll.

Anyway, they’re just a bunch of scribes.

Perhaps you can join the Cult of the Hunt. They’re not

so focused on ritualistic learning.”

I shake my head, letting my ears flop.

“It’s what I came here to do.

My family wanted me to be a scribe, and that’s all I have trained for.”

“So, now you’re free to join a different order.”

I look up at him.

Fluffy, cream colored fur covers his body.

His big ears are pointed at me,

a hopeful look on his muzzle.

“If this is about joining the Cult of Bacchus, I’ve told you,

I don’t want to be an initiate.”

“Oh come now, you would enjoy it.

It beats all that constant studying,”

he says with a swish of his black tipped tail.

I snort and roll away from him

so I can just stare at the wall.

Why didn’t she accept me?

I did everything she asked for.

Am I not good enough?

He sighs. “You think living with me has made you unclean in the eyes of the goddess, don’t you?

That she rejected you for the temptations I brought into your life?”

I had hoped he wouldn’t ask me this.

“A little,” I say sheepishly.

“The last time I touched you was over six months ago!

Ever since you told me you could no longer give in to the temptations of the flesh,

I made sure to wash carefully after the rituals and didn’t bring any strange scents into the house.

I even took to wearing clothes around you!

What more do you expect me to do?

Our gods have very different views on morality.”

“I don’t know, maybe it was wrong of me to stay here.

I know you’ve made a great effort to help me, but I feel like I could have committed myself more to her.

The goddess does not want me, Sanis.”

He is silent for a moment.

“Will you go home now?”

I shake my head. “I am the third son of a very minor landed family.

My brothers are there to carry on our name and inherit our lands.

Being an initiated scribe was the only way I was ever going to help advance our family.

Now there is nothing.”

Sanis kneels down next to me,

a paw gently rubbing my side.

“Do you know why I became an initiate of Bacchus?”

“No.” “Growing up, I always had the gnawing feeling of hunger in my belly.

My family did their best to keep everyone fed, but it wasn’t an easy life.

One dry spring, when the grapes wouldn’t grow

and we were facing the loss of our home,

I traveled on my own to supplicate myself on the altar of Bacchus,

seeking aid for my family.

The priests liked what they saw

and asked me to join the Cult.”

He smiles, “It was the happiest day of my life.

I was no longer just a poor fox

hoping for good harvests.

There was a god out there that needed serving,

and I had something to offer him.

I have never regretted my decision to become an initiate,

and since then the harvests at home have been good.” Sanis

had told me a little about the rituals:

the wine, the dancing, and the orgies that were held in the god’s name.

I learned more from the Brotherhood,

and that told me all I wanted to know.

Devotion to Bacchus was shown not through the quest for knowledge

or devotion to the hunt,

but by ritualistic ecstasy and madness.

It seemed… wrong. “You gave your body to the god.”

The fox chuckles.

“That I did. I gave the god everything I could muster, and some things I didn’t know I could.

Do you know what I have out of all that?”

“You have desecrated yourself in the name of Bacchus.”

Sanis cuffs me hard between the ears.

“No you stupid fool!

I have contentment!

I have reached out

and felt the presence of my god,

and I know through my service

I have made him happy,

and he has helped my family in return.

I may live in this little shack with you, but I have peace!

But, if you want to talk about desecrating bodies, let’s talk about you.

You stink of that scented oil they made you use,

and I expect you to bathe and maintain a reasonable sense of cleanliness.”

I grumble. “You know that hurt.”

“It was supposed to.”

He goes to the other side of the room

to sit down on his cot.

I sit up and swing my legs over to the floor.

I rub my head where he hit me.

He assumes a quiet, restful pose, with his legs crossed.

Sanis is so calm, so sure of his role with the gods.

He never shows doubt,

and does what is asked of him without question.

“How do you do it?” He had closed

his eyes, but he opens them.

“Do what?” “Have such ease about everything.”

He shrugs. “It comes from just being me.”

“Yes, but you always know what you will do.

You never show doubt.”

He chuckles. “I had

plenty of doubts when I became an initiate of Bacchus,

but I had to put myself aside and focus.

I had to forget who I was

and embrace my role as a servant of the god.”

I shake my head. I have never understood

how ritualistic debauchery glorified the gods,

but it isn’t my place to judge.

The fact the two temples are located in the same sanctuary

shows the dichotomy of the religious rituals performed here.

One cult embraces the sensual pursuit of the flesh,

while the other esoteric pursuit of knowledge.

One crafts exceptional scholars and hunters,

while the other boasted of the best wine makers, poets, and dancers. Sanis looks at

me with a pained expression.

“There is something I have been waiting to tell you, but I wanted to wait until after you joined the Brotherhood.

Now…” Sanis flicks his tail.

It is the only hint I have he is nervous.

“The high priests feel my dancing has pleased Bacchus immensely.”

I nod. “Yes?” “I am to go and join him so he may see my footwork up close.”

“Join him? Join … they asked you to perform the Rite of the Wine Song?”

He nods sagely. “In four days,

when the moon reaches her zenith.” “Sanis, I…” Performing the Rite of the Wine Song is a high honor, and consideration is only given to initiates that specifically request it,

for good reason. “I have already written home

and let them know what will happen.

I’m sorry, Askan.

I thought you would complete joining the Brotherhood and move to the sanctuary.

I will leave the house to you, for what it’s worth.”

The house, our little one room hut together,

is little more than two cots, and a small hearth for us to cook on.

My scrolls are stacked up in one corner on a cabinet-

-the only sign we are more than just poor beggars.

Soon I will be all alone.

“Sanis, they kill you at the end of the Rite to send you on your way!”

He smiles softly. “I know.”

He gets up. “I must prepare myself, so I will be in the sacred grove.

He walks up to me and touches my shoulder.

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but the time didn’t seem right.”

Not only have I wasted an entire year’s worth of time,

I will soon lose the only person who made that year bearable.

I shiver, and I notice his ears droop.

“I’m sorry Askan.”

He says weakly. His hand on my shoulder shakes,

and before I can think of what to say,

he turn and walks out of the house,

leaving me alone.

I close my eyes

and start to softly cry.

Not only does Diana not want

me, but Bacchus will soon take my closest friend. #

I stare at the parchment in front of me.

It details the history of the Brotherhood of the Scroll,

but I am not reading it.

I have read it before, and I know the history well.

I haven’t been paying attention to my surrounding,

so I startle when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

I turn to look up,

and I see that the old monk Merist

has walked up to me.

“Your eyes will burn the parchment if you keep staring at it like that.”

The monk is a fox like Sanis,

but a red one. His fur has faded though,

and is now streaked with white.

I’ve been told that he was once in the Brotherhood

but left to follow his own path.

Others whisper that he was cast out for misdeeds never clearly enumerated.

Regardless, the brothers still let him use the library,

and he spends considerable time there.

“Sorry,” I say rolling up the scroll.

I won’t find any answers to my problems in it.

Merist is astute,

and he knows more about the temples than anyone.

“You seem upset. The goddess did not select you?”

he asks me. “No, she didn’t.”

“There is no shame in that Askan.

The goddess is fickle.

She does not accept all those who seek her wisdom.”

“I know.” He reaches over and stops me from completely rolling up the scroll.

He points to where the moon,

one of Diana’s symbols, is drawn on the parchment.

“The moon is powerful,

but without the sun,

she cannot shine in her glory.”

“Of course.” This is a well-known tenant of the faiths.

“Do you know why that is though?”

he asks me. “Without the sun, there can be no moon.

Without the day, there can be no night.

Without love, there can be no loss.

These things balance our world.

The gods also must be balanced.

It is why the Cult of Bacchus

and the Brotherhood of the Scroll stand at such opposites to each other.

They act as a balance to each other.”

“Indeed,” he says nodding approvingly.

“That balance is never static but fluid

like water in a stream.

It always flows on.

Some actions shouldn’t be taken

since they unbalance the world.”

My curiosity gets the better of me,

and I ask “Why did you leave the Brotherhood?”

He smiles to let me know he takes no offense at the question.

“I had… a difference of opinion about certain aspects of the way the Brotherhood operates,

and I was asked to consider

other avenues of service.

While I knew in my heart that Diana still wanted me,

it was obvious she wanted me on a different path.

That was long ago though,

and I have seen and learned much since then.

Still, I am glad that after many years,

I have been able to return and continue to serve the Brotherhood in some fashion.”

“I thought in my heart that Diana would want me.”

He sighs “Serving Diana is not an easy road to travel, Askan.

Do not be too quick to assume she does not feel you are worthy of serving her.

She may still present you with tests you can’t prepare for simply by studying these.”

He tapped the scroll.

“The Brotherhood talks a lot about wisdom,

but true wisdom goes beyond what can be written down.

It has to be experienced.”

I sigh. “Becoming an initiate of Bacchus seems to be a much easier path.”

“It is easier to be accepted,

but the Cult asks a lot of its members.

Your… friend, Sanis,

he has been selected for the Rite of the Wine Song, hasn’t he?”

I lay my ears back.

“Yes.”’ “It is a great honor to perform the Rite.

The dancer who does

spends two months preparing, practicing special rituals and communing with Bacchus

before performing the Rite.

Afterward, if he and the chosen virgin initiate have danced well,

the gods take them both.”

“Sanis has been preparing for two months?”

Merist nods. “If they are following the Rite as I am told it is practiced.”

“He’s known for a while then,”

I say. “He did not tell you?”

asks Merist. “Not until today,”

I say getting up.

The old monk finishes rolling up the scroll.

“Then perhaps you should ask him why that is.” #

I find Sanis by the sacred springs near the temple of Bacchus.

The temple complex is on a hillside overlooking a deep valley,

and the springs are an important part

of many of the Cult’s rituals.

Sanis is deep in thought when I approach, but I know he hears me.

“Hey,” I say, coming up and sitting down next to him.

He glances at me before he goes back to focusing on the flowing water.

“You have bathed at least.”

“Yes, they wouldn’t have let me back in the library if I hadn’t.

Sanis, how long have you known you were going to perform the Rite?”

He sighs. “Almost two months.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He turns to look at me, incredulous.

“Do you really have to ask me that?”

I blink at him confused.

“What do you mean, do I have to ask you that? You’re

telling me that you are going to lay down on a block of marble so they can slit your throat,

and you want to know why I’m upset about it?”

The fennec grumbles low at me.

“You do know I volunteered to do this, right?

They don’t make people lay down their lives for the Cult.

It is an honor to do this!”

I grab him roughly by the shoulders.

“You are voluntarily going to your death!

Why would you do that?

Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

The fennec growls

and shoves me hard,

pushing me backwards.

I fall onto the grass near the path.

“I didn’t tell you, because I knew you wouldn’t understand!

I didn’t tell you

because you were working so hard to join the Brotherhood,

and trying to push everything out but the goddess.”

“But, I thought we were friends!”

He bares his fangs at me.

“Friends? Askan, you stupid, foolish jackal!

Do you think all those times I came home drunk from the rituals and threw myself on you were just because I couldn’t get my fill?

No, I saved myself!

I held back so I could come home and be with you.

I knew… I knew that the Brotherhood required chastity,

but still I hoped…” He almost sobs,

“I hoped you would see that

that wasn’t something you had to do.

It’s why I kept bugging you to reconsider and join the Cult of Bacchus or

Diana’s Hunt.” “What do you mean saved yourself?”

He drew himself up.

“I danced, I drank, and I sang,

but I did not share myself with the others.

I put my heart into the dancing,

and I stumbled home from the rituals so I could

share with you Bacchus’s wonder.

I knew by abstaining from sex

I would have the physical desire left to lay with you.”

His expression turns to disappointment,

“Yet despite that, you took the vow,

and I became just a distraction from you fulfilling your dreams.

I adopted a more modest approach at home,

yet when I returned to the rituals and opened myself back to Cult,

I felt empty. All I had was my dancing, my singing,

and when they sought initiate to perform the Rite,

I volunteered. If I couldn’t be happy in this world with you,

I could at least go and serve Bacchus in the next.”

I didn’t say anything.

I just looked up at him.

He shakes himself and steadies his quaking hands.

“I’m sorry Askan, but I am still going to perform the Rite.

Someone needs to do it,

and it is too late to prepare anyone else now.”

He gets up and stalks off, fur bristling.

“Sanis…” I call reaching out for him.

“Leave me alone, Askan.”

He doesn’t look back at me.

This was the the # of # parts of “Story Title” by Author Name, read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion. Tune in next time to find out how [characters resolve the cliffhanger

or other teaser].

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