Set on its own pathway within the boulevard of temples in King's Court, stands the Basilica Dominici- the Temple of The One. Alabaster walls stand as testaments to the purity of the One True Faith. Surrounded on all sides by a tall and impressive wall, the church manages to avoid looking like a fortress- tall and elegant sculptures standing along the edges- pictures of saints and angels taken from Dominicus's dogma. An experienced clergyman might recognize the Chronicler Oren or the Cardinal Kern; Drakedoder and Berkeley. The present rain runs along the sculptures, giving them an appearance of sadness and woe, as if the saints themselves weep for the King's Court at present.
In the center of the wall there is a massive gate- ornately crafted in silver metal that is blessed to never rust, until the faith of all men within should fail. The ornate entrance is always held open- just as the arms of Dominicus himself are always open to new followers. Just within the gates is a splendid garden, lush in its greenery and vibrant in its flowers- tended by some of the most religiously devout monks to walk the face of Tazlure. Perhaps it is this devotion that allows this garden to remain pure and luminous despite the rain and cold- where all other gardens might fail. The main path leads directly forward, hedged in by the shrubs of the garden itself at waist height, leading directly toward the main chapel, the tallest building in the entire complex- smaller walkways branching off, to the less-important structures.
It is the main chapel that is most impressive, however, remarkable in its height and elegance- essentially a circular building, bound on all sides by columns and arches. There are other sculptures set in the alcoves and upon the roof, here, a tall spire stretching upward from the entire mass- spiraling into the heavens- capped in a gilded depiction of an eye, the simple of The One. In all times, the chapel is doubtless inviting- but especially so in the current rain, seeming to beckon any approaching travellers forth, into the soothing warmth it provides- the entry chamber visible behind tall doors, partially open- a fire burning within, with deep and comfortable-looking couches set just within the oversized portals. All were welcome to enter freely, especially converts.
On a bed in a small, drab cell within the Basilica Dominici complex, a young man lay in a peaceful sleep. As the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon and made their way through the tiny window in the cell, the man's eyes slowly opened. They were a bright green that shone in the morning sunlight, set in a youthful, almost boyish face.
Anistis, acolyte of the One Church, sat up in his bed with a yawn and began what had become a routine series of twists and stretches to work the knots out of his back- the stiff matress's nightly gift to him. When his muscles no longer felt as if made of iron, he retrieved his copy of The Book of the One and, opened to The Book Apostolic, which had been among his first readings as a boy and remained his favorite of the Books.
"The One smiles upon charity," he read to himself, "for in giving what is yours to those who need it, you share the world more equally with all of His Children- who are all equal in their deserving of the wonders of His creation." Anistis felt that this was a good proverb to hold in mind at all times, and thus began every day by reminding himself of it.
After a little more reading from the Scriptures, Anistis knelt before the symbol of the Eye that hung above his bed and said the Benedictus. He had been praying the last line of this traditional prayer, "guide our feet in the way of peace," with an increased fervency in the past year, and while political turmoil (most of which Anistis didn't quite understand) still held the Kingdom in its grip, the war, thank the One, was over, and the young supplicant added to the end of his prayer that Dominicus would continue to heal the wounds created by war, and that tranquility and compassion would soon be the order of the day in Kings Court, the Western Kingdom, and throughout the world- and as he did so, Anistis had faith that it would be.
His personal devotions done with, the young acolyte rose with a contented sigh and a smile at the light of the new day streaming through his window. He sung a particularly catchy hymn to himself as he vested, smoothed his light brown hair with his hands in a vain attempt to make it lay flat, and opened the door to his cell, seeking his superiors for any tasks they may have had for him, eager to begin another day.