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It was a cold day in Velzna, though in many ways cold days had been the norm as of late, ever since the region of Tyrsenia fell to the Vaherians. Almost all of their cities had fallen to the enemy, occupied and kept in a strange limbo, neither citizens of Vaheria nor a part of their nation. Allowed special "privileges", all for the sake of preventing temporary revolts, in so much as they kept their status but were barred from leaving unless they "took up citizenship", it was little wonder that no one accepted a citizenship that would see them gain freedom of movement in return for being fully subjected to the tyranny of the foreigners.
Cold days indeed, for a strange stasis had taken a hold of the land, for as their Empire held its breath as war waged, Tyrsenia was the one place that still held that breath in, waiting as the unsustainable situation of the Vaherian occupation escalates. This "special" status wouldn't last long, confiscations of the property of the richest people who fled had already occurred, and under the guise of "ecological efficiency" the Vaherians had started building or taking over factories, doing their best to integrate the economy of the nation without ruffling too many feathers.
Yet there was one thing that in many ways mattered much more when it came to the people of Tyrsenia, and that was religion. Not just religion but culture as a whole, for a mixture of wealthy ruralism and healthy ties between the estates and cities had kept the old traditions alive and well, instilling within the Rasna a sense of pride that made winning over their temples and celebrations the key to winning over their hearts.
And therein one could point out the fly in the ointment, as it were, for the majority of the priests had evacuated the region, working in exile, trapped outside their home, still fighting the fight for freedom. Those who remained were either too stubborn, too old, or both, to care about a foreign invasion, and so the Vaherians cleverly chose to placate this beast until later, slaying the dog they wished to tame when they no longer needed it. And for this they needed support of the next highest ranking person who remained in the province, as winning them over would grant them much needed legitimacy and much more importantly, support and control among the people.
So came Velzna into the picture. In the southernmost section of Tyrsenia, quite near the heavily guarded and even more so heavily contested border, sat this relatively little town, but to the Rasna it bore great importance, as it housed the grove and temple of their national deity, Veltha, now long since swallowed by the town, akin to a heavily forested park, here the greatest new year celebrations of the Tyrseni happened, and while the priest of Veltha was neither the head priest nor the most influential, they still had a great amount of influence with the people, even more so now that they were one of the few priests left in the province.
Dark clouds covered the sky as Teitu, high priest of Veltha, finished the morning ceremonies. Wanting to avoid letting the cold in any further, as the people left the temple he and what few aides went about cleaning the altar and closing the windows and doors. The old man wiped his wrinkled brow of perspiration, his cleanly shaven head glistening in the light as he went about his business. His hands shook, no longer steady, indicating his advanced age, and yet he went about fixing the place up, slowly but surely he moved about the temple, wondering whether the day ahead would be any better come the mid day rituals.
Cold days indeed, for a strange stasis had taken a hold of the land, for as their Empire held its breath as war waged, Tyrsenia was the one place that still held that breath in, waiting as the unsustainable situation of the Vaherian occupation escalates. This "special" status wouldn't last long, confiscations of the property of the richest people who fled had already occurred, and under the guise of "ecological efficiency" the Vaherians had started building or taking over factories, doing their best to integrate the economy of the nation without ruffling too many feathers.
Yet there was one thing that in many ways mattered much more when it came to the people of Tyrsenia, and that was religion. Not just religion but culture as a whole, for a mixture of wealthy ruralism and healthy ties between the estates and cities had kept the old traditions alive and well, instilling within the Rasna a sense of pride that made winning over their temples and celebrations the key to winning over their hearts.
And therein one could point out the fly in the ointment, as it were, for the majority of the priests had evacuated the region, working in exile, trapped outside their home, still fighting the fight for freedom. Those who remained were either too stubborn, too old, or both, to care about a foreign invasion, and so the Vaherians cleverly chose to placate this beast until later, slaying the dog they wished to tame when they no longer needed it. And for this they needed support of the next highest ranking person who remained in the province, as winning them over would grant them much needed legitimacy and much more importantly, support and control among the people.
So came Velzna into the picture. In the southernmost section of Tyrsenia, quite near the heavily guarded and even more so heavily contested border, sat this relatively little town, but to the Rasna it bore great importance, as it housed the grove and temple of their national deity, Veltha, now long since swallowed by the town, akin to a heavily forested park, here the greatest new year celebrations of the Tyrseni happened, and while the priest of Veltha was neither the head priest nor the most influential, they still had a great amount of influence with the people, even more so now that they were one of the few priests left in the province.
Dark clouds covered the sky as Teitu, high priest of Veltha, finished the morning ceremonies. Wanting to avoid letting the cold in any further, as the people left the temple he and what few aides went about cleaning the altar and closing the windows and doors. The old man wiped his wrinkled brow of perspiration, his cleanly shaven head glistening in the light as he went about his business. His hands shook, no longer steady, indicating his advanced age, and yet he went about fixing the place up, slowly but surely he moved about the temple, wondering whether the day ahead would be any better come the mid day rituals.
Last edited by Jovan on Sun Nov 03, 2019 4:16 pm; edited 1 time in total
