Rituals Read online

  The rest of the group looked at the archangel curiously as she baby talked to the awesome-looking animal, loving on it like a stuffed bear. Shortly after, a young lady wearing advanced hazmat fatigues approached. She had an anti-toxin helmet dangling from an imperial sniper rifle, still bearing the scent of the mines in Emi-tel. Her hair was blonde-matted dreadlocks, and her brown eyes looked like she hadn’t slept in some time.

  She had a small flower-like creature in a cage that had four thorny vines as its appendages with two stigma that moved like an ant’s feelers, or, possibly eyes. Elsa was the second to go to the Iscariot, fascinated by the animal and laughing as it licked her face. Xavus came to greet this stranger; but when he held out his hand, the girl didn’t seem to know how to respond.

  The stranger held out a small stack of journals and the like that were bound together, which Swae accepted and signed to say, thank you. The stranger’s eyes met with Sloth’s briefly. She blushed, then quickly looked back at Swae. “Who is she?” Xavus inquired. “She’s a forerunner,” Swae replied casually. “Underworld cartographers if you prefer. Most of them are composed of the terrani, but Emi-tel tends to produce quite a few human experts as well.”

  Swae tossed the journals to Genri. “Those should be from Yuli and the neighboring provinces,” she explained. “Our friends have been quite busy beneath us.” “Are you concerned about Fia?” Sloth inquired. “That she could flip?” Swae didn’t reply vocally, but that was enough to answer the cog’s question. Swae signed to the stranger and then escorted her and the Iscariot away.

  “Is Swae worried this girl could be a descendant of the Kaaz’ara family?” Elsa asked. “What?” Sloth replied. Xavus grinned and was impressed with his bride’s historical savvy. “The Kaaz’ara name was feared more than most at the time of its prominence,” he replied. “Even the imperials went out of their way to wipe them off the face of Mol’do.” Genri looked to the skeletal angel, remarking, “You’re being uncharacteristically quiet.” Dan’el seemed to snap back to reality. “Huh? Kaaz’ara?” he replied. “Yeah, I had some run-ins with them here and there.”

  “The Kaaz’ara interbred with demons,” Elsa commented softly. “It would be no coincidence for one to have been drawn to a bloodlion.” Artimus scoffed and became agitated at the growing sense that this was bleaker than they’d thought, removing himself from the veranda and putting a hole in a pillar on his way out. Dan’el motioned for Katya to go with him, so she quickly bowed and went after her husband.

  “Shit!” Sloth uttered, lighting another skunkweed cigarette and shaking his head. Genri was already examining the various literatures, putting some aside that would need to be translated. Some of the papers were simple census numbers while others were independent documentation of bloodlion activity in western Mol’do. There were certainly gems to be found, but it would be a process.

  “Born of resurrected evil, they will bring death and deception into the generations to come. Given dominion over the dark and conquered lands, baptizing their children with blood and guiding the masses into every manner of slavery.” – O:VO:7

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Envenomed Whispers

  Hescan was meeting with Kessiah and Tara, Iris’ parents. This time of day tended to be the quietest among the Veil’Umbran streets, especially since the city’s defenses had been fully restructured. “I cannot express how happy it makes me that you’re able to return to your daughter,” said the skycaller. “I don’t think she could recognize how much peace it has truly brought her, and it is a peace for which I prayed.”

  “I think we know what you mean,” Tara agreed. “There was certainly wrath in her eye when we first saw her.” Worried about the unforeseen effects of inoculating his daughter, Kessiah had been drinking a bit, but he always maintained his wits. Tara put her hands on Kessiah’s. “There’s really nothing she’s told you about her meditations?” she asked the skycaller.

  Hescan shook his head. “She’s terribly independent,” he remarked with a smile. Even Kessiah chuckled at the comment in agreement. Then the skycaller approached his next question carefully. “Did she ever study the W:L codex?” Iris’ parents looked at each other curiously; both agreed they’d never noticed that. “I’ve been struggling with the decision myself; but now that the two of you are here, would you be open to allowing her to begin such a study?” the skycaller followed up.

  “I haven’t heard the wrath codex even referenced by a priest or lightcaller since I was young,” Kessiah answered curiously. “That’s not something someone would ask without a damn good reason, especially of a person her age.” “What he’s saying is that it’s an extremely dangerous thing to consider,” Tara added. Hescan motioned humbly that he completely understood their position.

  There was a pause at the table. Then Kessiah actually laughed. “Here I am contesting how dangerous something could be when her nightmares are my fault.” Tara rested her head on Kessiah’s shoulder as a means of consultation. “Is it your hunch that she bears a heroic gift, Skycaller?” she asked. Hescan nodded respectfully. “I would even dare say that it’s more than a hunch, milady.”

  Iris’ parents eventually came to an agreement without having to say anything to each other. “I’ve made sure that all appropriate and protective measures will be in place,” Hescan continued. “She’ll even have the service of a knight who I believe will nurture your daughter’s own strength in such a venture. Every wrathsinger needs their paragon.”

  This particular codex is also known as “Songs of the Firestorms.”

  Kessiah rubbed his arms to make the goosebumps go away, as that very title was still enough to simultaneously incite fear and joy. “What role must we fill?” Tara inquired. Hescan grinned. “Only to be the parents that you have been ma’am. The most important aspect in your daughter’s training will be maintaining balance; and not to make light of it, but your current ‘resurrection’ to her was a tremendous first step. Simply go about your business and stay alive.”

  Kessiah finished another glass of whiskey and set it down. “If you’re aware of this gift in her, no doubt Anri is as well,” he stated. “Anri is no Dom’rel,” Hescan replied assuredly. “If anything, it may have changed his calculations in our favor; but that’s not to say that we will not remain vigilant on her behalf.” Tara seemed very comfortable with this idea now, sighing as she looked to her husband who was pouring another glass of whiskey.

  Kessiah took a sip, but then set the glass aside. “We always told her she had a beautiful voice,” he said casually. Hescan was relieved at the decision. “Thank the Light that there will be another of His rays upon this dark land,” he said happily.

  Maymay was becoming something of a sister to Iris, as was Iris to her. They were able to retain some manner of youthfulness together, something that was healthy for them both. Maymay had fallen asleep in a chair next to Iris’ bed, keeping as watchful an eye as she could for the nightmares that seemed to regularly come to her friend. Tonight, Iris lay with a content expression, surrounded by pillows and breathing peacefully.

  Bazmari checked in on the two, turning off the lights and music. He scooped up Maymay and put her in the bed with Iris, tucking her in as one of his own. While he was pleased to see the two girls in such a state, there was a sorrow that ate at the back of his mind--a reminder of the times and what they were bringing.

  He picked up around the girls’ quarters, grinning at the junk food remnants among the mess. He noticed the tomes that Iris must have been studying, but he only glanced at the bindings. He looked back at the girls. “Just be careful, kid,” he said to himself. Bazmari finished his rounds and gently shut the door behind him, returning to his own family’s quarters not far away.

  Veil’Umbra was the most tranquil place in Mol’do at the moment, even as the terrani seers could feel Anri-Vex slithering beneath them. While Iris seemed to be selected by Anri-Vex for conversation, his hiss sti
ll reverberated down the spines of the more seasoned terrani heroes. The Veils had become somewhat attuned to the Celestial, an eerie manner of mutual awareness—even respect.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Oh, Humanity

  U’jeo was having breakfast with the archangel, curiously looking at the seemingly daydreaming Swae. The archangel had her chin in her palm with puffs of smoke escaping her nostrils. “I’d like to see you come up with something better,” she remarked, without having to look at the Pawparosi. U’jeo replied with the feintest of sounds and gestures.

  “You know better!” Swae exclaimed. “If Vil’el was engaged, we’d have invited the devil himself to return the favor. I’m not a model of patience but saving those two may be out of the question altogether. I honestly think we need to let them go for now and let them walk the paths laid before them.” U’jeo again replied with some feint squeaks. “You’ve been hanging around Dan’el too long,” the archangel commented with exasperation.

  Swae noticed out of the corner of her eye someone wearing beautiful robes, seemingly looking for someone. U’jeo eagerly flagged lady Elsa over. “Elsa?” Swae remarked. “What brings you here?” Elsa was one to move with natural elegance. Her posture and manner at the table were regal. “I wanted to speak with you about Fiaria,” she said in her soft voice. Swae’s heart dropped, fearing the worse.

  “Forgive me. I feel like I’m stepping out of my place,” Elsa began, “but there was one document from an imperial archive in Yuli that caught my attention.” Elsa slid the preserved paper to Swae and pointed to watermarks on each of the four corners. Swae positioned the sheet in the light so that she could better see the symbols. “The Kaaz’ara-Nali crest,” Swae uttered with a hint of relief.

  “If Fiaria hailed from northern Yuli, there’s a higher probability that she’d be of the separatist family line,” Elsa explained. “But I guess either way the Kaaz’ara line is somewhere in her veins.” “What’re the odds?” Swae uttered. “A descendant of the Kaaz’ara-Nali and a primeval bloodlion is an unfortunate and potent combination,” she added with a sigh, returning her stare to the sea.

  Xavus was on the training grounds among the variety of soldiers they’d acquired. Those who were once enemies found themselves as brethren now, sharing in the Light’s warmth and healing. The king was sparring with Dan’el, displaying his prowess with a sword and shield as many of their comrades watched in awe. Swae was right to choose a man that would lead from the front. This was seen in the amount of respect Xavus received from the heroes that hailed from all over Mol’do.

  “Good!” Dan’el exclaimed during a parry. “I can see that gladiator’s resolve in your eyes,” he added lightheartedly. Xavus chuckled as he blocked a swing of the angel’s glaive, dancing in the dust with quite a mastery of the combative art while the clashing of steel was ringing consistently between the two.

  “So, tell me,” Xavus began, “what does the wanderer think of all this?” he asked with a flurry of strikes. “Madmen aren’t all that crazy,” Dan’el replied, with a parry and shoulder charge. “War and death have been the world’s equalizers since the fall. Since humanity learned of good and evil, evil seems to be their natural destiny,” he explained as their metal continued to meet.

  “You sound so passive to our wickedness,” Xavus huffed. The angel laughed. “Your kind has devised so many ways to maim and kill each other, and you get better through the ages. It gets impressive after a while,” he exclaimed, knocking Xavus a bit off balance, but continuing with his opinion. “All the sick pleasures of mortality cannot be underestimated. You think that Vil’el is the only angel that serves Dom’rel? I stopped shedding tears for them ages ago. The same goes for humanity.”

  Xavus parried a few more swings, but then motioned for a rest. Dan’el knelt next to the king. “Ignorance is deadlier than any hand-held weapon,” the skeletal angel said casually. “Ignorance is what I observed in so many of the masses, and Dom’rel uses it like a serpent’s bite. It can envenom any great person while they sleep and bring down entire societies steadily with relative quiet.”

  Xavus drank from a water skin, then sighed with refreshment. “Truth seems evasive.” Dan’el shrugged. “Truth is scary for humanity. Why do you think people try to hide it so much? Why would someone fornicating with the fresh corpse of their victim want to feel remorse? If the darkness gives you unthinkable ecstasy, why turn on the Light just to see the demons you lie with?”

  Xavus nodded, knowing full well how Dan’el was instructing him. “Look around you,” the angel continued, motioning to the soldiers and heroes in the vicinity. “Individuals from the imperial special forces are greeting province rebels with the Light’s blessing. It’s sad that it takes this sort of annihilation to bring you people together--to find faith and truth. I can’t feel it anymore, but Swae certainly feels the repentance in the hearts of these men and women. It’s a simple concept, but quite the puzzle to the mortal’s being.”

  It’s not like we haven’t seen this unity before. The question there is always: How long will it last? How long before your kind becomes comfortable enough to start your petty arguments again? How long before righteous unity is perverted into twisted politics? Humanity hasn’t changed at its core--and it grieves us so.

  On the marksman range, Sloth was modifying Quilla’s sniper rifle while she looked on with charming eyes. Gunslingers provided an ambiance of rattles and pops while ranger arrows silently hit their bullseyes. In the distance, spellslingers cast their elements into magical targets and lit up the skies with dancing--fire, ice, and lightning!

  Warriors of all sorts practiced their arts. Some sparred with the agile bladedancers, which was quite a form of entertainment for those such as me. This beautiful city certainly had a defense built that suited its posture. The build-up is always so exciting.

  A terrani beastblood took on his greatcat form and “played” with the Iscariot hound. They were matched in almost every way; but when the shadows were right, the Iscariot gained the upper hand. Soldiers looked at this spectacle in awe, muttering to each other as to how the Iscariot came to be and how incredible was the nature of the terrani beastblood that wrestled with it.

  Shame that they didn’t have a summoner among them, am I right?

  Later that night, Xavus was reading through old police reports salvaged by forerunners and other assets. While he was all too familiar with the dark and bloody nature of humanity, perhaps he considered further study to be insightful. Elsa came from behind and put her arms around Xavus. Xavus held one of her hands and gently kissed it.

  She glanced at the paper, sighing with sadness at the report. “Will indulging in such reading not give darkness a foothold, my love?” she asked in her gentle nature. “Sometimes I feel like I need a reminder,” Xavus replied in kind. “Can a Lighthouse provide a newborn child with any less fear for their future?” Elsa kissed the top of his bald head. “I suppose part of that is up to you,” she said softly. “The children will be strong, as will yours If you choose to have any,” she added.

  Genri was meditating on the shore gazing at the full moons over the ocean. He was interrupted by a tumbler pickpocketing a small gem from his person. He dove to try and catch the critter, but the tumbler squeaked and began to quickly roll away. When Genri lifted his face from the sand, he saw Azal’el gently take the thieving critter in his glimmering gauntlet.

  The troll bowed low before the angelic paragon. Miri’el also appeared, stepping from behind her heavily armored kin. Genri slowly assumed a sitting position, as does an attentive student. “I always found it amusing,” Azal’el began, “how even some of the smallest furballs share humanity’s traits,” he said, gently rubbing the belly of the tumbler with his finger.

  Miri’el joined the troll on the ground, even shedding some of her regalia to sit where the water came to the shore. “I must say, I’ve never felt weaker in all my life,” said Genri.
Azal’el chuckled with amusement. “Weak may not be the right word.” “Humble,” Miri’el stated, looking out at the fish of all sorts leaping from the waters in the distance. “Strength with humility and awareness,” Azal’el nodded. “I don’t question your judgment, sister. This is one I’d love to work with.” Genri looked curiously, back and forth, at the angels.

  “I know what I said before,” Miri’el spoke, “but Zuhetta is spiraling out of control quicker than anticipated. It’s time for you to return to your home and people,” she declared in her disarming nature. Genri knew he couldn’t protest, but clearly was saddened by the notion. “Genocides have become civil wars, Genri,” Azal’el stated. “Dom’rel has unleashed his behemoths on that land to squash what remains of the pious and strong, and he’s seized the hearts of several rulers. Time is something Zuhetta has lost.”

  Genri stood and brushed some of the sand from his robes. He looked back at the city lights and took a deep breath of the sea breeze as several sparks escaped his flesh. Azal’el set the tumbler on the ground. It scurried to Genri and waited for the troll to pick it up. Genri smiled and picked up the critter, setting it on his massive shoulders.

  Entering through a dim flash of ruby light, Sheth’rel joined them. Azal’el spread his four snow-white wings and saluted the archangel while Miri’el bowed low in the ebbing and flowing tide. Swae approached Genri as a good friend, hugging him tightly without saying a word. Then another angel, Littlefeather, carrying his magical potato sack, appeared before them. “So, this is your guy, huh?” Littlefeather inquired with pep. Genri tried to get a closer look at Littlefeather, attempting to see a face through the blackness of the angel’s hood.

  “He’s not gonna’ try to kiss me, is he?” Littlefeather joked. Genri then turned his attention to Azal’el, hearing the unfastening of plate armor. “Your grace?” he asked. Littlefeather walked to the angelic paragon and held the sack open. A nearly frightening humming, growing louder as he proceeded, filled the air as the angel removed his first gauntlet.