Silence. Awkward silence. On the one side, the Representative Aat and her followers, on the other hand, a curious crowd. And we in-between. I remember pursing my lips, wanting to say something witty to defuse the situation, but Aat was faster. She whispered into the ear of a close follower, who then spoke in her stead.

“Now, now, there is nothing to fear. We should all hold a celebration and shower these children with generous gifts!” The follower spread his arms as if he was some Jesus guy, only with less halo. The bystanders, still slightly bewildered, hesitantly began cheering. At the same time, Aat slowly walked toward us. No, towards me. Her icy fingers wrapped around my chin as she raised my head to scrutinize every pore of my skin. She had a sweet smile that was cold at the same time. I shivered and wanted to look away, yet she held tightly on to my face. Finally, she let go.

“Come, my children!” She turned around, throwing her hands into the air. I guess that meant we were to follow her. The massive gates of the Order opened, creaking ominously. People started talking again. While most of us were nervous, Lilly was the first to eagerly follow Nu’s Representative, her eyes sparkling brighter than ever. She noticed that we were not even half as enthusiastic as her, so she turned around and angrily motioned for us to follow. One by one, we caved in, silently entering the temple grounds.

Behind the gates lay an enormous, sandy court that was used as a practice field. To our left, practitioners were engaged in combat practice, their slightly curved blades giving off loud clanging sounds whenever they hit each other. The white robes fluttered with every movement, reminding me of white doves dancing in the sky. To the right, a few practitioners conjured up white-colored balls of energy, shaping it to anything, from blades to shields. Whenever these magic weapons hit each other, there was a sizzling sound as if something was burning. While their movements were slower, the robes of these practitioners were always in motion due to the invisible energy surrounding them. If you walked by close enough, you could sense the magic in the air, sending down shivers down your body.

Everybody possessed a primary affinity for magic. The difference was, whether you were able to condense enough energy in the palm of your hand to materialize this magical energy, or whether you had a sixth sense. While direct descendants of the deities naturally had a high affinity towards magic, there were quite a few ‘normal-born’ people who were equally capable. And in a select few, there was the talent for both swordsmanship and magic. If a child displays these qualities, all Orders will be vying for its attention like vultures circling over a corpse. But I digress.

Several single-story buildings surrounded the courtyard. The foundations consisted of sizeable gray stone slabs, while the rest was erected with adobe-plastered walls. The roofs were slanted and made of reed. They were much longer than the actual building and supported by several intricately carved wooden columns, providing a shady place for respite. Since this was the Order of the Nu, the walls were plastered in a bright white. Young practitioners were in charge of keeping them clean. Even today, I still recall the scrubbing noises they made as they washed the walls of the left building and tossing dirty rugs at each other for fun.

Aat led us to the most significant building, which stood in the middle. All along the way, practitioners would stop whatever they were doing and bow deeply. While the accompanying entourage returned the greeting with a slight bow, the Celestial simply smiled and nodded. At the opening of the large building, an old practitioner came out to greet her. We knew this man. He was the head practitioner of this temple. Bald, but with a long, well-kempt beard. His green-blue eyes remained sharp even for his age; nothing escaped his attention. From all the Nu practitioners in town, he was the most well-respected man. Even my parents thought of him highly. The head practitioner always looked out for us troublemakers and knew Lilly’s enthusiasm well. He also encouraged her to take part in the recruitment process once she reached the eligible age of eight years.

“My dear Aat, I welcome you back!” The head practitioner bowed deeply.

“You are such a pleasurable host, Hawthorn,” the Representative put her hands together and bowed a little in response. She did not bother to check whether anybody else would understand her. And judging from the looks from everybody else, she needn’t have worried either. Everybody could perfectly understand her eery voice. “I saw these children here and thought they would be perfect for the Pilgrimage of Peace.” Without turning away from Hawthorn, she waved her hand to point at us.

Hawthorn hesitated a little, wrinkling his gray eyebrows in the process before speaking quietly, “Indeed, my dear Aat. I know these children well, for they have often sought the wisdom of our great Nu. Are you sure you want to send precisely these children on the Pilgrimage? We usually host a large event with many participants.” Thank Nu, the head practitioner is trying to get us out of this shit show! Unfortunately, it fell on deaf ears.

“Dearest brother Hawthorn, I must insist on these children. I feel they are particularly blessed”, is what Aat responded, slightly annoyed.

“Of course, your will is Nu’s will.” Hawthorn bowed. “Then these children it shall be. They are certainly excited to become part of the Pilgrimage.” He bowed again. By the love of Nu, these practitioners seem to do nothing else but bow all day!

Now you’re probably wondering what all the fuzz about the ‘Pilgrimage’ is. I’ll tell you: It’s bullshit. Period. But back in the day, it was a holy festivity and both honor and privilege for families who took part. Children were selected, sent on a trip through the entire kingdom to be praised and celebrated, and eventually disappeared without a trace. To maintain peace throughout the empire and prevent the Goddess of War, Sekhmet, from arising from her slumber.

All the adults knew what that meant: living sacrifice. So most parents were not very keen on giving their offspring away. Most often, the sacrifices came from poor, child-rich families. They were then heavily compensated and got rid of a child that probably would have starved to death eventually.

The kids themselves had no clue. No, nobody spoke about this even in a hushed manner. It was an understanding that came to be when you realized that your friend never would come back from that ‘fun field trip.’ And so, pious Lilly was so super eager to participate in the ‘Pilgrimage.’ It meant she would be serving Nu directly! No need to wait until being old enough to take part in qualifying tests!

The rest of us were less than thrilled. While we obviously didn’t know what it meant to take part in this procession, we knew that our parents would be not particularly enthusiastic. And Hawthorn’s grim expression proved our worries right.