Symbol of Order of the Mihra. It is a sign, that even within the appearance of chaos of mortal life, Order permeates everything. Layers of Order, the ultimate being that of True Order, encompasses all of life. This is the most important tenet of the Mihra, in fact, it is oft said to be the only tenet.
First time visitors to Larq are often taken aback at the brilliance of the buildings. The white buildings appear to be beacons, reflecting the light of both sun and moon. The effect is dazzling, as is the neat organization of the city itself. It is nearly impossible to get lost in Larq, once the awe-inspired beauty is digested. The streets all lie in concentric circles, spiraling out from the exact middle of the city, the High Temple of Order, the seat of Mihra power. Spokes connect these circles, forming straight lines from center to edge. Born from the empty and war ravaged ruins, not a single building was left standing as the Mihra built their great city to impress and comply completely with their beliefs.
The pervasiveness of order is to be seen everywhere, even in the merchants' shops. Those that make this city their home are perhaps some of the most devout citizens of the Terlayne Empire. The peace and prosperity that the Mihra brought and gave can be seen in any major city, but none more so than their capitol.
On the top floor of the high spire that towers over the city, a meeting was taking place. The Jhae's office was as bright as the rest of the Mihra. A historian by nature, his study remained immaculate no matter the fervor of his seeking. The walls, lined with a pure white wood, held book cases specially built for the round room. Where the high ceiling reached it's zenith, the only ostentatious show of wealth was hung down to cast additional light across the room. The chandelier was a crystal cut with such precision, that no additional candles were needed, it simply filtered the light from the high windows down and across the room. For times when natural light was not an option, three large sconces were placed on the walls, the lines from each, if drawn, would complete a perfect triangle. In the center of the room, where the Jhae and four of his Nuthar now sat, was an intricately carved table, quite reminiscent of the center design of the order's symbol.
This was not an official meeting, the lack of all eleven Nuthar present meant that nothing decided here would be formal. Yet such a situation was not unprecedented and would do little to inhibit the realization of their decision. Desperate times often called for desperate measures, but no man or woman present would so readily use the term desperate. Not yet at least.
"And what of the other reports?" The Jhae was an older man, but his voice remained strong and untainted by age. He could have a grandfatherly look to him, when he smiled at least. It was not the expression he wore today. Instead a deep scowl deepened the wrinkles on his face.
The Nuthar had the grace to not glance between each other. A woman, Idiri, in her early fifties spoke up first. "None of it is good, Jhae. The crops out west continue to die. A wildfire has claimed another village. Two more fishing fleets were lost at sea in a storm."
"And the people, what do they say?"
"There are rumors aplenty, but so far...there is no panic yet. Our traveling priests are doing well at keeping the countryside and cities in order. Previous years mean we have at least a year or two before we feel the real bite of hunger or lack."
Idiri's peer, a man newest to the ranks of the Nuthar broke in. "We've had reports of increased numbers of heretics. Ral Peroth had the largest group dealt with. With their leader dead, the rest have again sworn to Order." Heretics were always a problem, small pockets of blind fools who resisted Order and held to the old banished gods. Fools, the lot of them. But worse, they were dangerous, more dangerous than the Mihra could ever allow to be known.
Jhae Mescul folded his fingers together and pressed his forehead against them while his thumbs rubbed at his temples. He sighed, a brief sign of his growing aggravation. "And here, in Larq?"
There was no grace among the Nuthar now, as they shared furtive glances between themselves. The silence drew their leader's attention and he looked up, anger now creasing his face. "What?"
Idiri cleared her throat. "Val Arryana is dead." The Jhae's expression spurred her on to explain just how this was cause for the tension in the room. "But not by our hired blade's hand."
"He was a problem to be taken of anyways. We were going to tie up all the damnable loose ends. What went wrong, and spit it out, if you would." Such impoliteness was uncharacteristic of the old man.
Idiri gulped. "Several of our Mihra are missing. Including the Val's mentor...Mihra-das Lelianya. We have reason to suspect that the apprentice told her of her visions. We were not able to-"
Mescul slammed his fist to the table, silencing her. "You were not able to retain her, or did you spook her? No nevermind that, it makes no difference now. We can't shut down the city, but increase patrols. Keep the men out of uniform, no point in spooking her again or the rest of the city."
The four Nuthar present nodded and rose to leave. "One more thing. Make sure our old friend Garon is taken care of as well."