Tia'tiel approached her station with a small smile showing under her clay mask. At work she often wore this particular mask with its simple vine and leaf design around the eye holes, buried beneath the flourishes were the enchantments she had hidden to help her see purpose and identify material compositions. It was one of the many risks she took, wearing magic in the open like this, but years of being benevolently ignored had kept her transgressions hidden.

One of the few people who took the time to speak with her was already at work at her own table. Micha, though she was also a clay mage, had little in the way of physical alterations to prove herself a mage. It would be easy to mistake her as a someone who had stumbled into the disassembly room if not for the clay plates she was reducing to dust. That and the terracotta tint of her hair and fingernails.

Though Micha was not a terribly attractive woman, with her slightly asymmetrical features, Tia could not completely repress the occasional spike of envy for her soft skin and plump figure. Micha was a stark contrast to Tia’s thin frame, nearly flat chest and the startling mark magic had left upon her; an alteration Tia hid beneath her half mask. The only trait the two women shared was their short statures.

“Bright day,” Micha said in greeting, Tia returned the greeting, her smile never slipping as she moved to her work table.

“Where is Korrel?” Tia asked, the third clay mage assigned to deconstruction was notably absent. He may be delayed, yet it was more likely that he had been assigned some form of repair or other work elsewhere on Temple grounds.

“Emiel pulled him for Ceremony preparations,” Micha informed her. Tia glanced back at her in time to see the distasteful twist of her lips. None of the clay mages particularly liked their supervisor, Emiel. He was a priest, not a mage, and though he was not cruel his lack of understanding in matters of magic often irked Micha. For her part Tia liked that about Emiel, it made it easy to lie to him.

“A change of pace is not such a bad thing,” Tia commented as she surveyed the relics laid out for her attention. Most of the items were familiar to her. Her mask identifying the enchantments and composition, though even without the aid of her altered sight she would know the water cleansing pitcher and warming mugs from how often they appeared at her table.

There was one item she had not seen before, its metal casing would be disposed of in the nearby barrel but there were glass components at either end that she would need to reduce. As a clay mage she was lucky to be entrusted with the complexities of glass, a privilege she had earned when she had foolishly made a spectacle of her ability in front of Emiel. Though she had been questioned by the truth mages for several hours after her error her ability to sidestep and obfuscate had allowed her to return to work within a day’s time.

"Be wary of what you hope for," Micha said to her back, "I heard rumor that the menagerie will be wanting a new floor soon, that will take hundreds of tiles if true."

Tia shrugged, "I enjoy crafting. Even tiles can be a pleasure to make."

Micha laughed, "being so agreeable will get you in trouble one day, child."

Tia nodded in agreement. She surreptitiously glanced about the room, letting her mask do the work of checking for any hidden materials that might indicate a watcher. The pale marble walls and the metal sconces with their light crystals were all unchanged. As were the three wooden tables and their accompanying stools, the barrel for metal scraps and the stone wash basin with its ceramic pitcher of water that awaited the end of day hand cleansing.

“Speaking of rumors,” Micha said, her voice dipping low, “have you heard about the truth gate?”

Tia frowned, hiding the expression by staring at her table. Her curiosity of the metal relic was temporally forgotten at Micha’s words. The truth gate was one of the four gates which acolytes entered during their seeking. A gate was a doorway to another realm, places of power where magic might be gained of the seeker was clever, determined and strong enough to survive.

“I have not,” Tia admitted.

“It is a strange rumor to spread so close to the Ceremony of Renewal. I doubt it could be true, nothing can damage a gate,” Micha sighed, “though if it is true I have to wonder what it might mean…” she trailed off, her words implication enough.

“As you said, nothing can damage a gate,” Tia affirmed, “should this prove more than a fiction I am certain it is part of Kyra’s plan.” Tia repressed the urge to choke on the name. Kyra was the Goddess of the Sun, the highest power and ruler of all. There was nothing that happened that was not of her design, as every sermon reminded them all. 

“Of course,” Micha murmured. When Tia glanced back, she found the other woman once more fixated on her work, eyes downcast. Tia almost felt poorly for using doctrine to end the conversation; however, the direction Micha had been heading was too close to blasphemy for either of their safety.

Tia took a deep breath to center herself before turning back to her work. She made quick work of the familiar items, untangling and dissolving the magics before reducing the materials to dust which she carefully brushed into a metal tin to be retrieved later.

When only the metal and glass artifact remained, Tia glanced back once more, Micha had finished her own work and was tidying her space. Tia waited until Micha had moved to rinse her hand, bidding her farewell.

“Do not forget the lights,” Micha remined her kindly. Tia nodded, most light crystals were left on at all times throughout the Temple however the work rooms and personal quarters were meant to remain darkened when not in use and Tia had already been reprimanded twice in the past year for not making certain the lights went off when she left the workroom. Given she often lingered so she would be the last in the room it was her own fault for being so careless.

Micha closed the door, leaving Tia alone to study the strange relic. Tia could not say that she enjoyed her work, however she did appreciate the opportunities it afforded her. Were it not for her position as a deconstructionist she would never have been able to craft the many items that were hidden in her personal quarters. It was by studying the ancient magics of their ancestors that Tia had learned she could bury her enchantments in mundanity, distorting their purpose and effect enough to make them safe to wear and use around her coworkers.

Tia was not certain if other mages could detect magic the way she did. Micha and Korell were able to unravel the artifacts enchantments so they must have some awareness of magic, whether it was conscious effort that allowed them to perform their duties or brute for she could not know without inquiry. Asking would be dangerous and open her to questions she did not want to answer so she erred on the side of caution in everything she crafted.

For her own part Tia could sense magic in clay and glass without her mask, though the mask made it much easier to discern what that magic was purposed for. She could not, however, sense magics in materials such as cloth, nor whatever the ice mages did to the snow that warmed it to rain over the Temple and surrounding lands. Even metal was hard to detect when enchanted, though with effort she could sometimes sense the presence of magic within the unfamiliar material.

Tia examined the metal tube, twisting it in her hands. Her mask made the materials clear, the purpose less so; leaving her only the strong impression that she should look through the glass. If she was not mistaken this artifact had no enchantments on it, even the metal felt inert no matter how hard she focused. It would not be the first time an object was deconstructed when it was seemly lacking any magical qualities. Though it was disappointing to know she would learn no new tricks of crafting from the object her curiosity would not be satiated until she developed a hypothesis for its intended use.

She held the relic up to the soft skin around her eye, careful of her mask as she did so. She kept the relic pressed to her skin as she scanned the room, noting that the objects she saw all looked further away than she knew them to be. She flipped the object over, repeating the process with it reversed. This time the objects appeared much closer than they truly were.

What might their ancestors have used magnification for? Tia had crafted a mask that performed a similar function though the reasoning for making things seem distant eluded her. Perhaps it was helpful for observing solar phenomenon? The eclipse and night of lights were both harmful to the eyes under normal circumstances.

It had taken many cautious attempts before Tia had been able to craft a mask that allowed her to observe the annual eclipse that marked the truth acolytes seeking. She had not yet had the opportunity to find out if her efforts would serve on the night of lights given it was not due to occur for nearly two decades. In order to view the eclipse, she had not needed to make the mask have this distancing effect however, so she doubted that was the intended use.

With a heavy-hearted sigh, she set the relic back upon her table. Thoughts of the eclipse had her mind wandering back to the rumor Micha had mentioned, that something might have happened to the gate. Tia typically made a point of going to the mess hall after work so as to appear as if she was sociable. Perhaps she would catch another version of this rumor there.

With that in mind she moved her magic to part the glass down to inert sand. 'Such a pity,' it was a common thought when she was in this room. When the deconstruction involved magic it was even harder to keep her thoughts limited to the simple phrase. She would have loved to keep one of the glass discs, always a risk to be sure yet with the Ceremony approaching and rumors circulating it would be downright foolish to take anything out of the room today. Tensions being heightened meant there was a greater risk of someone reporting anything anomalous to the inquisitors.

Not only would she be questioned there was always the risk that scrutiny would reveal her creation of unregulated artifacts, if that were ever discovered she would face worse than inquisition. Being in possession of enchanted objects was an executable offense, crafting them was a guaranteed death sentence.

There were times Tia wondered why she took the risks she did. When she was being honest with herself it was obvious that without her crafting, her magic, her altered sight, she was not certain she could bear her life as it was. Though she put herself in danger the act of embedding purpose beyond form into her crafting gave her a sense of completeness, rightness… meaning.

She knew she was expected to find all of those feelings within doctrine and worship of Kyra, yet sermons and ceremony left her feeling doubtful and hopeless, something she hid with great care. Worse yet was her work.

When Tia had first found herself assigned to the relics sector she had assumed she would be cataloging, repairing and displaying the old items. To her disappointment, which she had made certain to hide, her job was a matter of deconstruction. The items given to them here would never be displayed, not a single word written about them or their function, none of the items even archived for future examination. The Church had been clear about her role, she was to remove dangerous and heretical magics, materials and forms from the world in order to preserve the sanctity of the peoples’ minds and health.

Tia had known better than to ask why a clay mug that kept the liquid within at a pleasant warm temperature was heretical; at least she had never asked the question aloud. Within her own mind, where her thoughts were known only to herself, she had asked many questions with very few answers to be discovered.

Perhaps it was that these items had been made in the dark days before unification under their Goddess Kyra, it could be that the magic used in their crafting was dangerous. Or mayhap it was only that they had not the means to recreate the items and therefor any question concerning their construction should be stymied before they could be asked.

Tia collected the sand in the tin tray, wishing not for the first time that she could take the dust with her. It was not possible, however, as it was Emiel who handled the leftover materials and the presence of the dust was proof of her efforts.

She tossed the metal casing of the relic into the barrel and moved to rinse her hands at the basin. The pitcher held more than they needed yet she was still careful to use only the bare minimum to rinse her fingers. The water collected in the basin, darkened from dust. A water mage would collect it later for purification.

Satisfied that her hands appeared clean she eyed the pitcher, judging how much water remained. It was enough, she decided before taking a careful sip from the container, making certain she left it at more than half full when she set it down.

Water was a coveted resource and strictly regulated. Though she, like everyone, was given an allotment of water tokens each week she was often short given that she required it to help in her crafting efforts. She was given one extra token each week, along with a fist sized lump of clay. With how often she crafted she often found herself resorting to scrounging for bits of clay and any opportunity to gain more water.

She had even replicated a cleansing enchantment to help her collect water from her eaves, necessary as otherwise the rain water would give her terrible stomach cramps or distort her clay with impurities that could take hours to cleanse from the materials. Though it rained often the bowl she had enchanted was not large and she dared not create anything bigger for fear of it being spotted outside her window.

Tia moved to the door, pausing she glanced at the crystals in their metal sconces on the wall, waiting to make certain they detected the lack of people present and darkened before she closed the door. If the lights had not gone out, she would have needed to report it to the Sisters of Light. She shuddered at the thought, the Sisters made her skin crawl though she was not certain why she had that reaction at the mere thought of them.

Free of her daily obligations Tia wound her way through the marble corridors towards the mess hall. Once she made an appearance, perhaps exchanged a few words with other earth mages and eaten enough to carry her through the evening, she could return to her room. Tia knew she should be more excited to speak with others yet it was always the solitude she craved. Just her, the clay and her magic.

No matter her internal thoughts she kept her smile in place as she stepped past the oversized wooden door that was propped open as always. The familiar thick wooden tables were lined in rows and she made her way past them to collect her food from the cooks who stood behind a waist high countertop. With a tray in hand, she made her way to a bench seat near a few earth mages she had spoken with sporadically. She said her greetings and added a few comments to their conversation before setting to work downing her bland rations.

A hushed question caught her attention, “Did you hear what happened to the truth gate?” Tia made a point of not raising her eyes from her food. It might be best to downplay her curiosity. She recognized most of the earth mages near her yet that did not mean that other ears were not listening.

"Gates do not disappear, who told you such a lie? You should report them," Tia recognized that voice as belonging to a vine mage with ropey red tangles of chokeweed interspersed in her dark hair. Chokeweed was a hardy weed often seen being ripped from the gardens, the sight unwelcome as Tia found their purple blossom beautiful.

"No," the first speaker said, “not just gone; destroyed. It is in shambles. The gate is broken, nothing but rubble. I heard the last acolytes to enter have all been detained for questioning. They must think one of them broke it."

No one needed to be told who they were, it would be the truth mages and inquisitors for those poor acolytes. Tia did not envy them and doubted their questioning would be as quick as her own had been.

“Kyra forbid such a thing. It is not possible,” another mage whispered, Tia was not certain who the speaker was with their voice distorted to such a low volume.

Tia let her eyes wander, though she did not raise her head. From beneath her lashes she spotted a cluster of truth mages two tables away, their gold coated prayer beads worn openly to mark their status. Even at this distance Tia could clearly see that they all looked pale, huddled together closely, their whispered conversation interspersed with little bursts of shaking heads or nods. Perhaps this rumor had truth to it.

"Who told you such a tale? You must report them," the vine mage insisted, her voice harsh and disbelieving.

"I overheard truth mages discussing it, not one but many,” the first speaker hissed.

Truth mages, with the power to know when a person spoke a lie, carried a reputation for absolute honesty. She had often wondered if the reputation was obtained through obfuscations or outright exaggerated but she supposed being surrounded by people who could spot your lies would foster some habituated sense to avoid dishonesty.

After her own questioning Tia had crafted a mask inlayed with the intent to twist her words to appear honest no matter what she spoke aloud. Though she had yet to test its efficacy, not that she was in a hurry to do so. She should switch her masks if this rumor was true, there was little reason for her to be questioned but a gate breaking had never happened before. There was little reason not to swap the masks which she had crafted to look identical, other than making work a bit more boring. 

"Have you seen the gate?" one of the others asked of the first speaker. She knew this voice, it belonged to a stone mage who never wore shoes since his seeking had left him with marble feet from the ankle down, Tia could not recall his name. She was not very good with names in general and tended to only interact with mages so she identified them primarily by their alterations.

"No, but I was planning to pass it later today to confirm-"

"Stay away from it," the disbelieving vine mage interjected, "if this rumor has any truth to it, you should not make it your problem. Kyra's will be done. It has nothing to do with us."

Tia stood, her food consumed, she was growing weary of the prayers. Kyra, Goddess of the sun and ruler of the world, would do whatever pleased her in this matter as she did in all matters.

'Kyra's will be cruel,' Tia could not help but think as she left the mess hall. It was a dangerous thought, words that could never be spoken aloud. Kyra decided all, her will forming their world to her liking. If the truth gate had broken then the news would be delivered in a sermon that explained how it was Kyra's determination that the gate be destroyed. No matter the truth, the end result was always that it was by Kyra's purpose that all things happened.

Tia forced the blasphemous thoughts from her mind, checking that her smile was still in place. Showing anything other than blind obedience to Kyra would be her undoing faster than the magic in her masks. No mage could read another person's mind but anyone could be accused of sacrilege.

If the truth gate had been damaged that meant other gates could be too. Being a mage that had survived her own seeking beyond a gate she could never enter one again but that did not mean this would not affect her. Suspicion and distrust would rise, responsibilities would shift and people would be watched that much more closely. Her heart sank at the implications.

Tia forced her steps to stay to her usual speed; she would reach her room in the same amount of time it always took her. Rushing was a clear sign of something being amiss. If the gate had fallen then clearly something was more than just amiss; yet she would show none of her fear outwardly.