Cipher Code {complete}

Chapter Seven: City Of Towers •NEW•

"Cry out to The Code, Creator of The Living Soul. Confess your sins onto The Flawless Creator and beg for the Unconditional Cleansing of your muddled spirit."

"We cry out to The Code, Creator of The Living Soul. . ." Philip let his voice die out halfway through the prayer. Though he kept his fingers clasped, it wasn't in reverence, it was out of necessity. If they weren't clasped, he wouldn't know what to do with them.

His eyes stayed fixed on the man who stood on the podium clothed in the thick hooded robes that declared him an ordained Priest of the Order.

The priest swayed in time with the rest of the clergy that made up the bulk of the congregation and packed up the front of the hall. The robes billowed almost hypnotically, forming the swell and fall of a white sea.

Philip couldn't get into the sort of spirit they all did, the ordained members and ordinary civilians who surrounded him. He seemed to be the only one who was here because it was mandatory.

He saw the women's glassy gazes, the men whose faces were pinched with repressed emotion and the children with tears freely flowing from their eyes but for some reason he didn't feel the connection to the Divine Creator that they all did.

He supposed that he might have been like that once, a long time ago when he had depended on The Code to feel alive. Now though, he depended on himself not the entity that had never once answered his prayers.

Sinking to his knees as the others did, Philip bowed his head, forcing his gaze off the priest. Cries were more audible now as sins were confessed, both out loud and in screaming hearts.

Strangely, Philip only felt at peace. He didn't want to confess anything to the massive white cowl that floated above the podium, the only representation of The Code allowed in the towers. He was thankful that his job was spared today, that was all.

He projected those thoughts outwards, feeling as though that alone was enough. He wished he could ask for more but that was beneath him. It was greedy to beg for that which you did not deserve.

And so he ended his prayer, the very first to do so as he raised his head. His eyes fell on the priest again but this time the priest looked back and held his gaze, even as he spoke his next words, "by the glory of Our Blessed Creator, all sins are forgiven and the purity of the spirit and soul restored. May The Living Soul join The Code at its journey's end."

"May The Living Soul join The Code at its journey's end," everyone else echoed. Philip found that his throat had closed up on him so he only mimed the action of saying the words.

A part of him wondered why The Code had let him live for so long when he was nothing but an unbeliever who observed the holy days. His attitude towards his religion appalled even him at times, he couldn't believe that a higher being could tolerate him any longer.

"All shall be seated for the reading of the Holy Books."

Philip sat on his heels, his mind already drifting to what he would do when he got home. The readings were always repetitive and condemning. They only served to remind him of how much of a sinner he was though he was already conscious of it.

Outside the pitch black towers that spiked into the shields above the nation and looked like wonders with their mismatched heights, Philip forgot entirely about The Code except when he needed to curse.

He never prayed outside the City of Towers, the holy land where all sermons took place. The nearest one was close to the capital city but kilometres from Mount Roya where he worked most of the time. He used that as an excuse not to go everyday and so only prayed once a month when it was required by law to do so.