Temple Daze [P]

Delicate relationships can be made robust only through understanding or so Lucian recalled his elder Paku saying once. Now, to say the relationship between the civilian and shinobi populations in Hoshigakure was delicate would be an understatement. Certainly the relationship had come a long way, but it still had a far way to go. The civilians did not openly mock and insult the shinobi as they once did and the many of the shinobi within the village had become used to not being considered a part of the 'ruling class' as they were in other villages. Alas, there were exceptions on both sides with some merchants not serving shinobi and some shinobi such as a certain librarian who seemed certain of their superiority. Lucian, for his part, devoted much of his free time to learning about the myriad of cultures that had found their way to Hoshigakure. In fact, his quest for understanding was what brought him to the Temple of the Sun.

The temple itself was unique in it's architecture. The walls were filled with colorful murals painted in some variations of orange, yellow and red. Most depicted the sun in various stages of the day. However, the murals, though beautiful works of art, were not the centerpiece of the temple. No, that distinction remained with the unique ceiling panels made of what appeared to be colored glass. The glass took in the midday sun and scattered it in almost the same way a kaleidoscope would. It was truly a sight to behold and Lucian was counting his lucky stars he had come on such a nice day.

In fact, the young Nazar had timed his arrival at the temple in time with the midday mass. The day before he had spent a considerable amount of time talking with one of the holy-men of the Sun sect on when it would be advisable to visit, so here he was. To be completely honest it would be difficult to tell Lucian apart from the devotees of the Sun considering he had taken into consideration the sect's unique dress code. He wore sandals and an earth tone orange robe that stretched down each arm and down to his waist with matching pants; the boy looked much like a Xiaolin monk--whatever those were--considering his bald head and orange garb. Naturally, he carried no weapons on him as it would be an insult to the religion.

Unfortunately, as an uninitiated member of the Temple of the Sun he could only watch the midday ceremony unfold, but it was better than nothing. The devotees sat in uniform ranks and seemed to do nothing, but bask in the multicolored light while a woman dressed in white extolled the sun's greatness. If nothing else, it was an interesting experience. Were Lucian much of a writer or artist this temple would be a goldmine for material and inspiration, but he was not. So, for now, he simply observed and learned to gain a more spiritual inspiration. Too often people did not take the time to understand others, Lucian did.

Despite the morning, the heat of the day was already at the forefront of the minds of many of the citizens. Clouds remained scarce, and the sun beat down on anything that stepped from the shelter of shade. To some this would be a good omen, the healing light and all, to Pinku it was just a really hot day. Though that didn't dissuade him from his current mission. His time in Hoshigakure had for all intents and purposes been quite and rather simple compared to many shinobi missions. Even if his had lasted 12 years now, with no sign soon of letting up.

Wars were often fought with weapons, blood, deaths. His war however was illustrated with brushes, ink, and interpretation. To always take more than what was lost, that was a motto he had been taught by his master before his departure. It was just Pinku these days, at least from the family. It had been solely him as a shinobi from what he could tell for a long time before the first wave occurred. Only to be eradicated shortly after leaving a newer set in its place. Two in the palace, and one in the underground, even if he had seemed to disappear.

His brush traces a final line, his left forefinger spreading the paint causing the line to become smeared. The effect led to a mixture of colors, the realism of the effect caused the sand to almost seem to be blowing off the canvas. This was his war, and overall he fought well. The family had given up one member from their home compound. They had given up one mother and fathers love, and in exchange they had gained so much more. Information, a ground infrastructure, and supplies.

Many of his artworks and scrolls were commissioned by the plethora of temples. The money he gained mostly went back into the infrastructure. Funding various other endeavors. Laundering, illicit materials, and contraband. Which was then resold at profit with the resulting income returning to the family. This was but only a small part however, his works provided so much more. Always careful to write, to paint in the most subtle of ways he worked to sway the mood of thousands with propaganda that the civilians took as religion.

Which was what led him to today. It was slow work, nothing could ever be blunt lest he be outed or worse, his mission compromised. Standing he took the piece of art and moved through his office, setting it gingerly by the wardrobe. Inside were the robes, ceremonial grabs, and uniforms of ever major religion in Hoshi and several underground ones as well. His hand found an initiated member of the Sun which hung poetically by the ones who saw the moon as God.

Quickly he doffed the painters garb and donned the robes. A quick seal changed his appearance in a puff of white smoke. A wolf in sheep a cloth, the metaphor had been used before. Even now he thought he was more of a fox, after all he needn't take the blood like a wolf would, just a few lambs from the herd.

His movement through the streets was aided by his knowledge of the back alleys. Soon he found himself at the place of worship, his brow slightly dropping with sweat. Even after all this time he found the heat more oppressing than inviting. Stepping through the doors he was led through the temple, only to arrive at the back of the pulpit where the current speaker was winding down.

Handing off the artwork to one of the helpers he briefly touched his robes, making the signs that would be expected. He was to give a brief speech before showing the piece. "And now, brother Malvin shall share with us his light...." The women said airily. As she did the room was cascaded in a thousand beams of light, an impressive trick ruined by being able to see the altar workers move the pulleys that connected to wood panels that shifted along the ceiling. Tiny mirrors positioned to cause the effect. Really, magic and religion......Pinku hoped somewhere it was more than lies. Stepping into the stage he looked out, his face now old a long beard spilling from the hood of his robe. Removing the hood he revealed his head to be bald, hands and skin kissed by the sun, all be it wrinkled and spotted for it. All perfectly planned with the transformation jutsu. His hand waved , and he looked out to see how many stood in attendance.

For such a slight woman the white robed lady seemed to have endless energy. One moment she talked of how each day the sun greets each and everyone. Then the next she spoke of how it grew the crops and provided food. Oh, and who could forget the how it gave light to an otherwise cold, dark world. Each idea and belief espoused by the woman and sect seemed to point to the sun as the source of all life. And, frankly? Lucian could not argue with them. It was true; without the sun life would be hard pressed to exist.

How odd I had not thought about it before...

The Nazar traditions focused on the relationship between man and earth, not man and sky. A more close minded person may have shunned another belief system running contrary to their own. However, Lucian was anything but close minded. He listened with an attentive ear and receptive mind. The Nazar way was not to ignore or disparage other faiths, but rather to understand and accept them for what they were. So, the Nazar boy tried to keep track of the crowds reactions as well as he could. When, halfway through the woman's preaching, the whole congregation stood and inclined their heads to the sky he followed suit.

"Let us keep the light of the Sun in hearts as we go forth today....And now, brother Malvin shall share with us his light."

Everyone sat.

Unfortunately Lucian was late on the draw. For a few awkward seconds he still stood while the others sat down as if on cue. Realizing his misstep the boy quickly took a seat though it would be readily obvious he was not accustomed to the pacing of the mass nor the unconscious cues the people he sat with had been indoctrinated with. With a rapidly reddening face the boy tried not to catch anyone's gaze for fear of unspoken ire. Instead he directed his attention to the front of the gathering where brother Malvin was now walking on stage.

Sitting in roughly the center of the group of roughly seventy odd people, Lucian had a fairly good view of the stage on which Malvin walked out onto. The man, as he was clearly a man, was perhaps best described as wizened. In fact, the man quite resembled what a few of the older Nazar clansman looked like sans beard. Suffice to say the man looked to have seen many a sunrise as the sect would have called it. Interestingly it was not the man's appearance that most struck the boy. No, it was the dazzling entrance. Beams of light, as if from on high, shone down upon him giving the old man a almost divine look.

Apparently such an entrance was normal as the crowd did not looked shocked nor could Lucian say he was altogether shocked; he was more intrigued. As a puppeteer the Nazar boy was well acquainted with sleight of hand and misdirection. Though no thoughts of mechanisms popped into the boy's mind. He did not wish to poison his understanding of the sect by dissecting how they did things, it would take away the magic. All groups, village leaders, religious leaders and merchants to name a few relied on showmanship to captivate an audience. Use of said showmanship did not take away from the meaning behind it. That was why Lucian was here, meaning.

I wonder who this Malvin man is.

The high priestess had not mentioned him when Lucian spoke to her earlier in the day. Then again there were a lot of things she hadn't told him perhaps because observation was the only explanation. So, much like the entire congregation Lucian gave Malvin his attention. Was this a continuation of the sermon?

"Light.....darkness. Both fill this world, to say otherwise would be ignorance. I hate you!!!!" He would yell, raising his hands to the sky, looking through the panels straight to the sun. The resulting outburst would cause the collective gasps of the attendants, his blasphemy present and unexplained.

"Now don't tell me you haven't said those words. Looked to the sky and cursed the very being that gives you life. It is a difficult thing to be grateful for the warmth of the sun when around us all seems cold. Each morning I rise.....I take my position and watch the sun as it breaks the horizon. My eyes fixed on it, watering from its powers." In truth he often rose well after the sun had risen, perhaps feeling the touch of the residents of the brothel he currently held as a home, but that didn't make for a very religious story.

"A challenge, defiance, a test. All three, to see how I a mortal man can compare to that which gives us life. Unblinking I stare at the sun, and each time I am reminded how small I am. This isn't some establishment holding to stones of the past. This is something beyond us, beyond this city, beyond the very world we live in." As he proceeded one of the assistants moved forward placing his latest art at his right side. Currently however it was covered in an orange cloth keeping it hidden.

"I am no great preacher of wisdom. It is my hands not my voice that I can show the sun it's glory here on land. I'd remind you when you let hate take hold to remember what it is you really should direct it towards. The sun directs it's heat on our backs, it can blister us, break us, kill us. This isn't to cause our subjection, but to show us our liberation. The power we hold should we direct our concentration." Reaching over he removed the cloths.

The canvas displayed a brilliant painting. One side covered in marvelous lights. Purples, oranges, yellows dominated the frame. At first a myriad of color, it was only if one looked closer they could see shapes extend from the color. Soldiers warriors gridlocked with the other side of the frame. This side was covered in darkness, dark purples and icy blues punctured the black taking their own forms of monsters. The struggle for light unfolded before the eyes of the initiated in the commissioned piece.

It was subtle, mostly missed but the faces of the demons resembled a great many real people. Faces of other sect leaders, guards, even palace officials had been the inspiration. Even a female monster with icy blue hair that stood out as much as blonde in the city of stars. It would take someone with a keen eye and awareness to make such a connection, but that was how he planned it. Plant seeds of hate, prejudice in the minds of the religious. Separate them from unity, it was much easier to slip the knife through chinks in the armor.

"Next you find yourself hating what give you life. Next you find yourself disappointed with your lot, I would press you to remember what the real enemy is. I would press you to know where to focus your powers, and to remember what can be accomplished. Thank you..." He would say raising his hand and face to the light once again. The women in white would return to the stage and say the final few lines to dismiss the congregation.

Stepping off the stage he made his way towards the front of the temple. Offering smiles and pats to those who looked his way. Playing an old holy man was exhausting Pinku thought behind a wizened smile. Once he made it to the front, he turned and listened to the final prayer before stepping into the street. There he watched the crowd for a moment, listening as the bustle from inside grew as those inside would start their final prayers and then dismissal.

Light and dark, black and white, good and evil. All were a reality, but none were absolute. As Lucian listened to Malvin the boy could not help but be impressed. The man had a talent for speech. Sure, his words were carefully chosen and phrases well time. However, the best writing in the world could fall flat if not read well. Malvin did not allow his well crafted words to fall flat. Rather the man's words cascaded up and down into a crescendo and down to a dull roar. No one present, Lucian included, could say they were bored by the old man's speech.

That being said even the elder man's words were put to shame by what he revealed halfway through his speech. A painting. Well, not just any painting. Calling it a painting did not really do the piece justice as it seemed to pop to life. Even from where he sat Lucian could see the detail that went into it. Each face unique and expressive. Now, this was art. This was art that put much of the work Lucian had seen to shame. He was impressed to say the least.

All said, the last bit of Malvin's speech did seem a bit odd. The Nazar figured it was probably his own ignorance, but he did not know what enemy the old man spoke of. However, for the moment, he put it out of his mind. After all, mass was not over. With the old man leaving the priestess returned to the stage and spoke up again.

"Thank you once again, brother Malvin. Your work is beautiful, as always."

A pause.

"Now all rise for our final ode to the Sun."

Every, Lucian included, stood.

"As I look up today I see a new light. Though the Sun may set we all know it will soon rise. Remember that even in the dark that somewhere out the Sun yet burns. It will return and like the Sun we must all burn on and bring light to our world. For without light what is this world?"

Gesturing to the dark side of Malvin's painting the priestess continued.

"Do not let your hearts grow dark. Go forth and spread the light of our Sun onto the world and shine in peace."

That was a cue Lucian knew. In unison with the whole congregation he spoke, "Shine in peace."

And that was it; the mass was over. People started to slowly filter from the atrium and out into the streets presumably to spread their own inner light to the world. Perhaps that was their own way of reaching enlightenment?

As people left Lucian remained. He needed to thank Priestess Rui after all. Approaching the woman in white Lucian gave a shallow bow before speaking.

"Rui-sama, thank you for allowing me the chance to learn more about the people of the Sun."

"It is my pleasure to share our relgion with all how wish to learn more," Rui responded with a kind smile. "Unfortunately I must be going, I wish you all the best and please do come again."

Lucian gave an understanding nod before turning to the exit himself. He was the last one out. Glancing down the street the boy spied the old man from before, brother Malvin. The least he could do was praise the man's work, right?

"Excuse me, brother Malvin," Lucian said walking up to the man. If acknowledged he'd continue. "I just wanted to say that your painting is truly beautiful. I'm not sure words can do it justice. Do you often paint for the congregation?"

Such a question clearly came from a place of ignorance. If Lucian were a regular at the Temple of the Sun then he'd know the answer. However, that was not the case. Though, instead of ignorance the Nazar thought of it as unfulfilled curiosity. Ah, the joy of re-framing.

Giving the boy a soft smile Pinku exuded peace and calm. On the inside however he thought these robes should be put where the sun doesn't shine in the nearest initiate. "From time to time, when the sun illuminates a message. Are you newly converted?" He would ask conversationally. It was true he had never seen the boy before him in any of the temples, he he had made it his business to know many faces.

As he waited for an answer the crowd continued to push around them, moving out into the bazaar where the business of the day was picking up in full steam. Loud calls for pots, produce, and meats could be heard. Vendors hoping the louder their voice the higher their sales.

Even as he listened to Lucian, he considered implications. An outsider most likely, was he a shinobi. Where from, was he a spy or a contact. When one was under deep cover it was hard to differentiate between friends and possible threats. Even more annoying was how often things like this were just chance encounters. "If your an advocate for the arts, perhaps I could show you the initiates gallery. Normally one who isn't under the sun wouldn't be allowed but I'm sure I can swing the doorman." He would say with a smile.

"For a trade, you'll tell me where your from, and I'll show you the finest art you've ever seen."

"Newly converted?" Lucian asked. "No."

Looking down at the clothes he wore it dawned on the boy: he did indeed looked like a convert. Good, that was the idea. He looked the part at least.

"I am simply interested in the many religions of Hoshigakure."

A slight pause as Lucian cast his gaze and bowed his head to a trio of passing Sun worshipers. Manners first. Always manners.

"I spoke with Mother Rui and received permission to take part in the midday mass. And, I must say, I have found my visit to be enlightening in every sense of the word."

An offer to see more beautiful works of art? Perhaps were Lucian more superficial he would oblige the man. However, the young man did not actively seek out beauty. It was better to happen upon it by chance. Looking at art in a gallery would probably take the glow from the art. That being said, Lucian had nothing to hide.

"I wouldn't want to get the doorman in trouble," Lucian said. "You have no need to trade anything."

A pause as a thin smile spread across Lucian's face.

"My name is Lucian Nazar. I recently immigrated from Funkagakure, but for the moment I call Hoshigakure my home, my haven."

A deep bow followed the boy's introduction. It was customary.

"Nice to meet you."

Once again it all came back to manners.

Oh, if old Shinzo could see me now. He might even shed a tear.

"It is pleasant to meet you my child. The sun truly shines over you to allow such travel. It was my understanding the shinobi villages were rather strict on travel. Though......" He would look out over the crowd as it went from a slow trickle to a full flow of traffic. "You kind seems to be growing in our home. For better or worse, the light remains dim. In time the fullness of it will be illuminated however." He finished looking at Lucian returning the thin smile.

While his words had held an ominous message it voice hadn't carried the same implications. Merely facts, without a lot of emotion either way if they were better or worse. The boy however had declined the viewing of the art gallery, although in a very polite way. As he turned and gazed the crowd he used this time to consider what the boy had said. He had to admit he knew very little of Funkagakure. It was one of the main villages that the Akari clan had stayed out of. What he did know was that it wasn't a friendly place, which was at odds with the polite young man that stood next to him, unless it all was a rouse.

Looking up he noticed the position of the sun, not out of worship as it might seem, but merely checking time. He had another scheduled meeting. Some priest wanted to discuss one of his latest writings. Some horse dung on morals and ethics as interpreted by the Saint of........gods he couldn't even remember what Saint it was. He'd have to take the short cut through the market alleys. It was the only way he could even mildly make it in time.

"Well Lucian, if I can't tempt you with fine arts I fear nothing will tempt you. Perhaps I will see you around the temple again. Until then, may you live in the light and the shadows be short...." He would say his eyes closing as he performed the appropriate hand gestures. He couldn't understand how these religions all had come up with these customs of witch craft and mysticism. Still, it was easy enough to interrupt and use, so in the end he saw it as fitting his purpose. Opening his eyes he gave a small bow as Lucian had done and set off.

Moving into the crowd he quickly made his way into the alley and started the winding turns. Fresh laundry hung above his head, some still dripping. After the clatter of the street it seemed to echo around the seemingly deserted alleyway. His own feet in sandals did nothing but aid in the echo. His mind miles away as he recalled the key argument points of his paper, and what political meetings he had the next day. All of this was nothing but political after all.

As his mind was away was when his body screamed it back to the present. The knife had slid through his loose robes and probably saved his life. The linen catching and moving it from a deadly thrust to merely a stitch deserving wound through his left side. The unintentional yell sent a fresh reverberation of sound through the alley as his left hand shot forward striking hard on the man's sternum in an attempt to stun and push him away.

Already his robe was soaked in blood, splashing as it wavered and hit is side. His breath was heavier, eyes subconsciously shifting into the first level of the golden eye. It was something he avoided at all costs, however this was a special situation. "I...I..I t-t-told you.." A rat face man said stepping out from the shadows. "I-I-I could sm-smell it on him." His stuttering and twitchy movements did nothing but add to the fact he resembled a rat. As Pinku watched four more individuals stepped forward, how could he have been so foolish.

His transformation jutsu had released as the pain spiked when he moved to the side trying to keep all the men in front of him. His hair falling out of the tie plastering to his face and neck from the heat of the day. This wasn't a good situation to find himself in. Shrugging off the robe he was left in a more form fitting black cutoff shirt. The tear open as blood actively drained from his wound. His pants matched, black and tight against his legs.

He hated to admit it, but this was not the way he'd want to be caught, and if his idle could see him he'd be more than embarrassed. "S-s-see!!!! A shinobi." The rat face squealed in joy. It was true, in some circle a shinobi dead could buy dinner for a family for a year. Pinku had sold one or two himself, it was part of the game only this time he was on the wrong side. No weapons, no gear, and his side hurt like hell.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to go out comfortable at least." He was stalling, hoping someone would come down. At least not make it so easy for them. Reaching into his pocket all 6 men tensed only to relax as he removed a thin cigarette and matches. Lighting it he took a drag. His eyes full of light picked up each of them, trying to anticipate which way they'd come from, who to take a weapon from, and possible escape points. Damn...if only they'd been in one of the gangs he had influence in. These were clearly just street urchins looking for a quick grab of cash.

As he too another drag the action caused him to wince, and that's when two of the men raised rusty swords and lunged at him.

Brother Malvin seemed like a genuine guy. It was people like this that Lucian knew he could learn quite a bit from. Thus, far every religion he had learned about in Hoshigakure had people like Malvin, true believers. Were they right to believe in one god or group of gods over another? Lucian was not really sure. The Nazar clan did not worship a god per se, but they believed that certain things were guided by invisible forces. In the end, it was not really what god one believed in, but rather that one believes at all. Or at least that was what Lucian thought. After all, the ability to believe in the invisible was a strength not everyone had and one that many were ridiculed for.

How odd that so many ridicule others for a strength.

Drawing his right arm across his chest and bowing again, Lucian returned the appropriate farewell for the worshipers of the Sun. Malvin then set off while Lucian remained where he was, well, not by choice. Just after Malvin crossed the road a large caravan of merchants came through making the road impassable for a few moments. Getting trampled by the large pack animals was not on Lucian's list of things to do. Yes, trampling was bad.

Perhaps it was chance, coincidence or that invisible guiding force from before, but Lucian's eyes caught the figure of Malvin through the crowd as he entered an alley. From where Lucian stood he could see all the way down the alley. His eyes lingered on the old man as cattle passed before him. Then it happened, a trio came up behind the old man, nothing to worry about, right? Hoshigakure was a friendly place, nothing like Funkagakure. Then he fell, Malvin fell. Or was he pushed? From where Lucian stood he could not tell for certain. All he saw was that the trio of men came close to Malvin and he had fallen. Moreover he had fallen and had not gotten up.

Surely Malvin would get back up in a moment, right?

Nope a few seconds passed along with caravan of merchants to reveal that Malvin was still on the ground. Yet still people were walking down the street without a care in the world. Perhaps had Lucian's mind not tinted by panic or were his vision a bit better he would note that it was not Malvin who lay on the ground. No, he could not stand by and let whatever was happening over there happen.

Wading through the crowd, Lucian pushed his way to entrance of the alleyway. The scene that greeted him was not what he'd expected in the slightest. It was clear the man on the ground was not brother Malvin. Had he been mistaken? Perhaps, but that did not matter at the moment as two men brandishing swords were charging at the downed smoking man while the other stood by and watched. There was no time to think or rationalize. In fact, Lucian's hands moved unconsciously.

Dog-Boar-Ram

Lucian had not yet been noticed, which would work to his advantage. As he moved deeper into the alley and towards the commotion one would not see a bald boy. No, instead they would see a fully geared Queen's guard. In full regalia he strode down the alley. It did not matter to the boy what had transpired in the alley or if impersonating the Queen's guard were illegal. All that mattered currently was the man on the ground, the man in trouble. Not much else mattered at the moment.

I can't be too late.

Two men were mid lunge when Lucian spoke up in a voice that felt very alien to even himself. It was deep, rich and powerful. It was the voice of his father, a voice of experience. A voice he knew well.

"Halt," Lucian bellowed. "Halt in the name of the Queen!"

Was that convincing enough?

Certainly the men mid-lunge could not stop. However, Lucian hoped that his voice echoing down the alley would give them pause for thought. Hopefully pause enough to stop whatever they were doing. After all, who would be foolish enough to disregard what was tantamount in Hoshigakure to the anbu of shinobi villages. A risky gamble to be sure and Lucian knew he was bluffing with nothing in his hand, but he hoped it was a bluff that could save a life.

The smoke had barely formed the cloud above his head as the men lunged. As they did another voice crashed into the alley. It was so unexpected at this point it almost caused Pinku to mess up his own defense. Where his legs kicked up to block the man to completely avoid peril, now the blade but into his shoulder. Luckily it was merely a flesh wound and not something more permanent. His heels caught the man and displaced the oncoming momentum.

The resulting crash was more of controlled chaos than proper taijutsu. The first man crashed against the flat side of the others sword sending it spiraling towards the guardsmen. His hands had grabbed at the others wrist keeping it to his chest in the would be shush kabob of his chest. As the roll completed he finished in a messy arm bar, but it was deep enough. Thrusting up he heard the satisfying pop and scream that meant it had done its job. The sword also made a clink as the hand opened releasing the hilt.

Rolling away he had confidence the man would halt his attack. Standing quickly and feeling his side rip a couple more centimeters wider his golden eyes watched all around. The light of the area was picked up and magnified. Pinku saw no shadows but brilliant light. However the rat face man had disappeared probably back to the sewers, the one who had been disarmed also was scrambling away clearly not to happy to see a queensguard. The other lay on the ground clutching his arm at an awkward angle.

"A little late, but thanks." He would say breathing heavier as his hand went to his side. He found it drenched in blood, and could feel a touch light headed. Shit....how could this happen. So much had been going on he couldn't believe he had allowed himself to be so careless. Going to one knee he watched the guardsmen to see if he would apprehend the little bird with the broken wing. The man had better hope so.