Lookseast seemed confused by the question. “No, of course not, if you mean the sort of speaking we are doing now. That’s not El’s way. Perhaps it was thus in the age before the Trek, but there are few who remember those times.”

“We are not familiar with the Trek,” said Eve.

“Oh. It is how Elkirk came to be,” said Lookseast. “In olden times, all the souls dwelled together in peace and harmony at the base of El’s palace. While El was away tending to some other matters, the Usurper took power for a time. He was a cruel sort, of great power, who hurled thunderbolts from the Palace. All the souls who dwelled below dispersed in terror of his rages. Our forebears trekked westward across the grassland and crossed the river and settled in the valley you see below, where they were sheltered from the Usurper’s wrath. But later El came and flung the Usurper and his minions into the sky and rebuilt the Palace as you see it today. We built the kirk here upon this high place so that El and his angels can look down upon it from their seat in the clouds and know that we revere him.”

Adam and Eve followed Lookseast into the chamber that occupied most of the building’s lowest story. This was square, plain, and empty save for two effigies made out of stone. One was male and the other female. They had the same general number and arrangement of limbs, extremities, and external organs as Adam and Eve, or, for that matter, El himself.

Adam and Eve were silent for a while as they contemplated these.

“Lo, these are the forms that El in his wisdom ordained for us. New souls are drawn to this place by the light of the fire. Here they contemplate these forms and shape themselves accordingly, each choosing the male or the female type as it suits their nature.”

Seeing now more clearly as their eyes adjusted to the dimness, Adam and Eve detected many auras in the room, some larger and better formed, others small and indistinct. They were not scattered about the place but instead surrounded the effigies in a broad ring, as if they were all gazing inward. In the moments after Adam and Eve came into the place, it became considerably more crowded as each of the souls following in their wake spread out across the floor seeking its own vantage point. “These new ones will create forms as is proper, some sooner and some later, for El ordained that not all develop at the same pace. But one day they will each attain this perfection.” Beaming, Lookseast extended one arm toward the effigies.

Neither of them looked especially perfect to Adam or Eve; they were lumpish, with indistinct features. “I regret to say,” said Lookseast, “that it is too late for the both of you.”

“What mean you by that?” Adam asked.