Chapter 123: Dance of the Fireflies
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Chapter 123: Dance of the Fireflies
The villagers formed a large circle around the fire, and two of them stepped forwards until they were perilously close to the fire. As the ring of villages circled and danced around the fire, the two inside it danced wildly, thrashing their arms in the air and flinging their upper bodies dramatically up and down as if to dislocate their body.
"Quite a dance, eh," Danemy said. "Is that safe?"
"Ah, we would never come up with something like this," the guard said, smiling. "It is the dance of the Emati people, because we are sending a prayer to their gods. In the earlier times, many of them had died in this way, to the fire. But they have pared back the dance slightly since then, and now we can follow it easily. It only looks dangerous, but we don't find it difficult."
Soon, the loud chanting and dancing stopped, and the villagers stood in place, shuffling around disappointedly.
"This prayer didn't work," the guard sighed. "Well, this happens sometimes. It was a prayer to the Emati god of fortune, now we shall try a prayer to Aluriel, what is called in your language books their 'God of Witnessing Transcendence.' But that is not exact, maybe better is 'God at the doorway to transcendence.' The Emati say he stands at the gateway to heaven from earth, and shows the glory of heaven like a firefly in a dark night. The Emati say that moments of great beauty in nature, like pure waterfalls and mountains, are a display of heaven. That is why they are so frantic in their dance, they think that the fire is a gateway to heaven, and they hence act wild as a fire in order to try and commune with the gods."
"'Doorway to transcendence'? That's quite a complex image," Crucis said. "What kind of prayer will you offer?"
"He is also their god of ceremony and ritual, so if we can send a prayer to him, then maybe we will succeed at contacting more of the Emati gods. Listen, I will tell you our prayer."
The villagers began to dance again, similarly to the last time, but this time their shrieks were louder and almost sounded aggressive. As Crucis listened closely, he could make out that the beginning of the chant sounded like, 'chii ai sal aichii.'
"Here is what they are singing, in a way you could understand:
"Over the charred earth
the wave of firelight flies,
and beneath it our world
is twice benighted
by the fire's scars and by its shadows.
"O, star over the earth
spreading your wings,
you cast two shadows.
No beauty resists your touch,
no hope does not wither,
and every king shall turn
to find you staring there.
"Alas, he who mounts a throne,
shall someday see your fiery eyes
waiting behind it,
or he who vaunts upon the world,
shall someday see the earth pale
when a golden seed of your primrose is planted."
"'Over the charred earth' was the part which sounded like 'chii ai sal aichii'?" Crucis did, doing his best to sportingly imitate the strange, bat-like language of the villagers.
The guard chuckled and patted him on the back, taking this attempt at the language in good faith, but responded seriously.
"Yes. 'Sal' means 'debris left below by something above,' it is typically used for hurricane or storm. But here, since the fire is above the earth, I say 'charred.' The word for 'benighted' here is also like that, it is similar to 'shadowed' in your language, but for us it is more strong, like eclipse by shadow. 'Firelight' is maybe a strange word, but it is close to what we said."
"I see. Well, that's a good translation, then, well done."
"Thank you. This prayer was a success, and we are rewarded with increased damage when we use magic, and better luck when forging weapons. Also, the 'success rate' of our prayers has increased for the next four attempts, especially for prayers to the Emati gods and those of their sister people, the Arkeet. Now we are debating which gods to try next."
As the villagers huddled around the fire and talked quietly, Crucis noticed a loud, bell-like noise from the side, as Grisier's [Sacred Coal] erupted into a heatless, magical white flame. Soon, it had transformed into a [Black Powder Spell Scroll], a spell which allowed Cryomancers to summon and cast a black powder that would cause intense cold if it touched the opponent. It was especially effective in a cold area, or if used in conjunction with ice.
Crucis guessed that the 'black powder' might be the colder equivalent to the white powder which the villagers had used to heat the iron mask before placing it onto the witch.
Now, the villagers began to form two large rings around the fire, each rotating in opposite directions as they danced. The outer ring moved in a ceremonial, slow counter-clockwise direction, while the inner ring was even more slow and only made small, fragile movements and steps.
"They have decided to give a prayer to a god of the Arkeet, name is Dorotea, she is known as the 'goddess of wretchedness.' She inhabits all wretchedness and frailty, they say, and gives comfort to the damned. The Arkeet are mostly extinct due to constant plague and disease, but we found a small outpost and killed them. They are a strange people, but also more powerful than the Emati, and that is why we send prayer to Dorotea."
This time, the chant was more high-pitched and stately, and at times almost sounded like a slow, elegant rendition of 'O Fortuna.'
The guard explained the chant.
"Misery loves company.
"My sole bride is the flowers upon my grave,
"Dorotea, sweet bride of pain,
"you are the lithe shadow that follows
the leper, in time with his step,
and mirrors his suffering
and never flees his side,
"your pulse withers away each winter,
like the song of a frail lyre,
within the hearts
of those who wander lost,
"you are death to the dyingL1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.
and wail, by all suffering scarred.
"You are the angel that follows us
to the place of execution,
and the noose is your lips,
"eternal bride of the damned.
"You are the tear in the sapphire."
After the chant was done, the flames leapt notably into the air, but from the ashes a still, silent voice called out in an unfamiliar language. The villagers talked among themselves quickly, then prepared to chant again.
"The prayer was valid, but now she will 'interrogate' us," the guard said. "Sometimes, even if the prayer describes their domain, they will ask further, more specific questions to make sure. It is a tricky matter."
Crucis felt the sacred ash in his hands beginning to stir slightly, as if a fire occasionally flared up within it.
"What's their first question?" Danemy asked.
"A voice whispered it from the ashes," the guard answered. "It is, 'How am I an angel in the place of execution?'"
"She's fishing for compliments, is she?" Crucis laughed. "Well, hopefully you pull this off."
"Yes, yes. If she accepts our answer, I think she will have another question."
Q. How am I an angel in the place of execution?
You are the shadows that haunt the gallows,
the hanged man's choked cry is an echo of yours,
your voice is his last thought.
Your lips purse in silken penitence,
as you turn pale in his suffocation,
and your body wilts
beneath a lifeless stare.
Q. If this man wanted to see me, where could he find me?
That is why you are seen in her mirror.
Q. What is love?
It is a conjured pain
when the soul is born in strife,
and needs this hurt to feel
like itself.
It is the song of the emotions,
which bleed life's vividness away
until they can repose
in their home, the grave.
It is the marriage of your suffering
with death, where it belongs,
and it is the vigour of wretchedness
as it haunts the diseased sufferer,
envious that death shall take him
and end their lovely grotesque.
It is the hope of hearts long-dead,
and the answer that exults in ringing hollow.
Q. I sang to Dorotea once, and won her over, birthing my son Hysteria. How did I sing, according to the legends?
'The world has turned cold.
You will not know your hopes,
you will not dream;
just lie here with me,
and we will dream in death.
There forms nothing new here
to unparch us with new sensations
and even the sun is a fearsome lance
that hisses its flames at us,
so talk about nothing.
Let us go. We shall find what dreams,
what beautiful pallid dreams, you weave
when the night has enveloped
so deep that we cannot dream.
You'll find a home from home,
furnished with the hearth of my desire.
I know your heart will never stop,
it is the leaping light that guides us
like a star.'
The fire flared up, and the prayer was successful.
"Excellent, but all of these interrogations make me nervous," the guard said. "It is often better to try and find a god who can be reached in one prayer, because the longer an interrogation, the more time for it to be discounted pettily. But the Emati and Arkeet gods are like this, and it was worth trying. Now our 'Constitution' will be higher, and we will get stronger the more that we are attacked. But we can move on to other gods now."
In the meantime, Crucis noticed that Danemy had a new, triangular black dagger which had emerged from the sacred ash. As Danemy tested it out, it was clear that this blade was incredibly sharp, despite its simple, short, blocky appearance.
The villagers had already begun a new dance, now all in one, disorganised ring around the fire. They began to shriek loudly, but in an almost colloquial, understated rhythm.
"What's this new chant?" DicingDevil asked the guard casually. "By the way, this ritual is impressive. I think we have some idea of how it works, is there any way that we could help out?"
"Hm. You could, in fact, and you may also get some rewards. But it is unsafe for you to come near the fire. There is something else. We mostly live in this area, but some gods are based on things you might know more. We would like to try challenging these gods. You could etch a chant on a stone like this, to guide us."
He picked up a red, cuboid stone, that looked like a less decorated version of the ones which Crucis had taken for lag purposes.
Holding out the stone, the guard said, "You may all write one or two lines on paper, if you have it, and I will try to translate them onto this stone. If you do well, then it will help us, by showing the way, also kindling the fire further. And you will also get some benefits if the prayer succeeds."
"Alright," DicingDevil said. "We can start with the next god. But which god is the current chant for? It's very calm."
"It is for a goddess of the Mikan people, they are a strange people. Both lewd and prosaic, always excited but also in drudgery. This is to Ilmajes, their goddess of 'hope in despair.'"
I saw you in the storm,
we were walking in the smog that grows beneath heavy rain,
black air that pools like black blood
as if earth failed to breathe in smothering rain's fabric,
I saw an angel,
and your light bleached the clouds white,
until the rain seemed snowflakes cut from crystal;
your small hand was a bursting sun
on the earth.
There is no solace for the damned
except to dissolve
in your fingers' touch.
Ilmajes, our morning star!
Your grace is all that's left of us!
As the prayer was accepted, a faint drizzle began to pour from the clouds.
A few of the villagers climbed up a hut and precautiously grabbed hold of a large, wooden platform leaning against it, preparing to build a temporary shelter from rain to protect the fire if necessary. But in seconds the drizzle had abated.
Starfighter's sacred ash had flared up, leaving behind what looked like a sword with multiple long, silver blades. However, as he lifted it, it became clear that what had appeared to be the blades of a sword were actually long, bladed whips, and he whirled them lightly in the air to make sure. The silver whips spread fluidly through the air like waves of rain.
Crucis saw that the weapon was named [Urumi].
"That is a special weapon," the guard told Starfighter. "You must know at least basic whip skill to use it. But it is a weapon that is in constant motion, a very dangerous one for both the user and enemy. So you must become skilled to use it well. It leaves deep wounds and bleeding, flesh torn apart, and if against many opponents they will have many wounds even from one Urumi user. But not as lethal as dagger or sword, so we switch to those at the end of fight."
Starfighter tried to whirl the Urumi around and slash it forwards, as a test, but soon stopped after he accidentally cut a small wound on his arm with the whirring blades.
"I have some experience with whips, since I helped some Eastern villagers with quests involving herding animals," Starfighter mentioned. "But this thing is crazy. Its movement speed is way higher than anything else, it's going to hurt if it hits me by accident."
Although he spoke in a resigned tone, he began covertly increasing the level of his [Whip Handling] skill, not one to turn down a challenge like this. Further, the attacks of these long whips were almost akin to AoE, and would be very effective at grinding in the wild if he could figure them out.
"Let us show you," the guard said, smiling. He held out his hand, and Starfighter handed him the Urumi.
Another village guard picked up a grey Urumi of his own, which looked quite battered from years of use, and walked over for a makeshift duel.
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Chapter 123: Dance of the Fireflies
The villagers formed a large circle around the fire, and two of them stepped forwards until they were perilously close to the fire. As the ring of villages circled and danced around the fire, the two inside it danced wildly, thrashing their arms in the air and flinging their upper bodies dramatically up and down as if to dislocate their body.
"Quite a dance, eh," Danemy said. "Is that safe?"
"Ah, we would never come up with something like this," the guard said, smiling. "It is the dance of the Emati people, because we are sending a prayer to their gods. In the earlier times, many of them had died in this way, to the fire. But they have pared back the dance slightly since then, and now we can follow it easily. It only looks dangerous, but we don't find it difficult."
Soon, the loud chanting and dancing stopped, and the villagers stood in place, shuffling around disappointedly.
"This prayer didn't work," the guard sighed. "Well, this happens sometimes. It was a prayer to the Emati god of fortune, now we shall try a prayer to Aluriel, what is called in your language books their 'God of Witnessing Transcendence.' But that is not exact, maybe better is 'God at the doorway to transcendence.' The Emati say he stands at the gateway to heaven from earth, and shows the glory of heaven like a firefly in a dark night. The Emati say that moments of great beauty in nature, like pure waterfalls and mountains, are a display of heaven. That is why they are so frantic in their dance, they think that the fire is a gateway to heaven, and they hence act wild as a fire in order to try and commune with the gods."
"'Doorway to transcendence'? That's quite a complex image," Crucis said. "What kind of prayer will you offer?"
"He is also their god of ceremony and ritual, so if we can send a prayer to him, then maybe we will succeed at contacting more of the Emati gods. Listen, I will tell you our prayer."
The villagers began to dance again, similarly to the last time, but this time their shrieks were louder and almost sounded aggressive. As Crucis listened closely, he could make out that the beginning of the chant sounded like, 'chii ai sal aichii.'
"Here is what they are singing, in a way you could understand:
"Over the charred earth
the wave of firelight flies,
and beneath it our world
is twice benighted
by the fire's scars and by its shadows.
"O, star over the earth
spreading your wings,
you cast two shadows.
No beauty resists your touch,
no hope does not wither,
and every king shall turn
to find you staring there.
"Alas, he who mounts a throne,
shall someday see your fiery eyes
waiting behind it,
or he who vaunts upon the world,
shall someday see the earth pale
when a golden seed of your primrose is planted."
"'Over the charred earth' was the part which sounded like 'chii ai sal aichii'?" Crucis did, doing his best to sportingly imitate the strange, bat-like language of the villagers.
The guard chuckled and patted him on the back, taking this attempt at the language in good faith, but responded seriously.
"Yes. 'Sal' means 'debris left below by something above,' it is typically used for hurricane or storm. But here, since the fire is above the earth, I say 'charred.' The word for 'benighted' here is also like that, it is similar to 'shadowed' in your language, but for us it is more strong, like eclipse by shadow. 'Firelight' is maybe a strange word, but it is close to what we said."
"I see. Well, that's a good translation, then, well done."
"Thank you. This prayer was a success, and we are rewarded with increased damage when we use magic, and better luck when forging weapons. Also, the 'success rate' of our prayers has increased for the next four attempts, especially for prayers to the Emati gods and those of their sister people, the Arkeet. Now we are debating which gods to try next."
As the villagers huddled around the fire and talked quietly, Crucis noticed a loud, bell-like noise from the side, as Grisier's [Sacred Coal] erupted into a heatless, magical white flame. Soon, it had transformed into a [Black Powder Spell Scroll], a spell which allowed Cryomancers to summon and cast a black powder that would cause intense cold if it touched the opponent. It was especially effective in a cold area, or if used in conjunction with ice.
Crucis guessed that the 'black powder' might be the colder equivalent to the white powder which the villagers had used to heat the iron mask before placing it onto the witch.
Now, the villagers began to form two large rings around the fire, each rotating in opposite directions as they danced. The outer ring moved in a ceremonial, slow counter-clockwise direction, while the inner ring was even more slow and only made small, fragile movements and steps.
"They have decided to give a prayer to a god of the Arkeet, name is Dorotea, she is known as the 'goddess of wretchedness.' She inhabits all wretchedness and frailty, they say, and gives comfort to the damned. The Arkeet are mostly extinct due to constant plague and disease, but we found a small outpost and killed them. They are a strange people, but also more powerful than the Emati, and that is why we send prayer to Dorotea."
This time, the chant was more high-pitched and stately, and at times almost sounded like a slow, elegant rendition of 'O Fortuna.'
The guard explained the chant.
"Misery loves company.
"My sole bride is the flowers upon my grave,
"Dorotea, sweet bride of pain,
"you are the lithe shadow that follows
the leper, in time with his step,
and mirrors his suffering
and never flees his side,
"your pulse withers away each winter,
like the song of a frail lyre,
within the hearts
of those who wander lost,
"you are death to the dyingL1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.
and wail, by all suffering scarred.
"You are the angel that follows us
to the place of execution,
and the noose is your lips,
"eternal bride of the damned.
"You are the tear in the sapphire."
After the chant was done, the flames leapt notably into the air, but from the ashes a still, silent voice called out in an unfamiliar language. The villagers talked among themselves quickly, then prepared to chant again.
"The prayer was valid, but now she will 'interrogate' us," the guard said. "Sometimes, even if the prayer describes their domain, they will ask further, more specific questions to make sure. It is a tricky matter."
Crucis felt the sacred ash in his hands beginning to stir slightly, as if a fire occasionally flared up within it.
"What's their first question?" Danemy asked.
"A voice whispered it from the ashes," the guard answered. "It is, 'How am I an angel in the place of execution?'"
"She's fishing for compliments, is she?" Crucis laughed. "Well, hopefully you pull this off."
"Yes, yes. If she accepts our answer, I think she will have another question."
Q. How am I an angel in the place of execution?
You are the shadows that haunt the gallows,
the hanged man's choked cry is an echo of yours,
your voice is his last thought.
Your lips purse in silken penitence,
as you turn pale in his suffocation,
and your body wilts
beneath a lifeless stare.
Q. If this man wanted to see me, where could he find me?
That is why you are seen in her mirror.
Q. What is love?
It is a conjured pain
when the soul is born in strife,
and needs this hurt to feel
like itself.
It is the song of the emotions,
which bleed life's vividness away
until they can repose
in their home, the grave.
It is the marriage of your suffering
with death, where it belongs,
and it is the vigour of wretchedness
as it haunts the diseased sufferer,
envious that death shall take him
and end their lovely grotesque.
It is the hope of hearts long-dead,
and the answer that exults in ringing hollow.
Q. I sang to Dorotea once, and won her over, birthing my son Hysteria. How did I sing, according to the legends?
'The world has turned cold.
You will not know your hopes,
you will not dream;
just lie here with me,
and we will dream in death.
There forms nothing new here
to unparch us with new sensations
and even the sun is a fearsome lance
that hisses its flames at us,
so talk about nothing.
Let us go. We shall find what dreams,
what beautiful pallid dreams, you weave
when the night has enveloped
so deep that we cannot dream.
You'll find a home from home,
furnished with the hearth of my desire.
I know your heart will never stop,
it is the leaping light that guides us
like a star.'
The fire flared up, and the prayer was successful.
"Excellent, but all of these interrogations make me nervous," the guard said. "It is often better to try and find a god who can be reached in one prayer, because the longer an interrogation, the more time for it to be discounted pettily. But the Emati and Arkeet gods are like this, and it was worth trying. Now our 'Constitution' will be higher, and we will get stronger the more that we are attacked. But we can move on to other gods now."
In the meantime, Crucis noticed that Danemy had a new, triangular black dagger which had emerged from the sacred ash. As Danemy tested it out, it was clear that this blade was incredibly sharp, despite its simple, short, blocky appearance.
The villagers had already begun a new dance, now all in one, disorganised ring around the fire. They began to shriek loudly, but in an almost colloquial, understated rhythm.
"What's this new chant?" DicingDevil asked the guard casually. "By the way, this ritual is impressive. I think we have some idea of how it works, is there any way that we could help out?"
"Hm. You could, in fact, and you may also get some rewards. But it is unsafe for you to come near the fire. There is something else. We mostly live in this area, but some gods are based on things you might know more. We would like to try challenging these gods. You could etch a chant on a stone like this, to guide us."
He picked up a red, cuboid stone, that looked like a less decorated version of the ones which Crucis had taken for lag purposes.
Holding out the stone, the guard said, "You may all write one or two lines on paper, if you have it, and I will try to translate them onto this stone. If you do well, then it will help us, by showing the way, also kindling the fire further. And you will also get some benefits if the prayer succeeds."
"Alright," DicingDevil said. "We can start with the next god. But which god is the current chant for? It's very calm."
"It is for a goddess of the Mikan people, they are a strange people. Both lewd and prosaic, always excited but also in drudgery. This is to Ilmajes, their goddess of 'hope in despair.'"
I saw you in the storm,
we were walking in the smog that grows beneath heavy rain,
black air that pools like black blood
as if earth failed to breathe in smothering rain's fabric,
I saw an angel,
and your light bleached the clouds white,
until the rain seemed snowflakes cut from crystal;
your small hand was a bursting sun
on the earth.
There is no solace for the damned
except to dissolve
in your fingers' touch.
Ilmajes, our morning star!
Your grace is all that's left of us!
As the prayer was accepted, a faint drizzle began to pour from the clouds.
A few of the villagers climbed up a hut and precautiously grabbed hold of a large, wooden platform leaning against it, preparing to build a temporary shelter from rain to protect the fire if necessary. But in seconds the drizzle had abated.
Starfighter's sacred ash had flared up, leaving behind what looked like a sword with multiple long, silver blades. However, as he lifted it, it became clear that what had appeared to be the blades of a sword were actually long, bladed whips, and he whirled them lightly in the air to make sure. The silver whips spread fluidly through the air like waves of rain.
Crucis saw that the weapon was named [Urumi].
"That is a special weapon," the guard told Starfighter. "You must know at least basic whip skill to use it. But it is a weapon that is in constant motion, a very dangerous one for both the user and enemy. So you must become skilled to use it well. It leaves deep wounds and bleeding, flesh torn apart, and if against many opponents they will have many wounds even from one Urumi user. But not as lethal as dagger or sword, so we switch to those at the end of fight."
Starfighter tried to whirl the Urumi around and slash it forwards, as a test, but soon stopped after he accidentally cut a small wound on his arm with the whirring blades.
"I have some experience with whips, since I helped some Eastern villagers with quests involving herding animals," Starfighter mentioned. "But this thing is crazy. Its movement speed is way higher than anything else, it's going to hurt if it hits me by accident."
Although he spoke in a resigned tone, he began covertly increasing the level of his [Whip Handling] skill, not one to turn down a challenge like this. Further, the attacks of these long whips were almost akin to AoE, and would be very effective at grinding in the wild if he could figure them out.
"Let us show you," the guard said, smiling. He held out his hand, and Starfighter handed him the Urumi.
Another village guard picked up a grey Urumi of his own, which looked quite battered from years of use, and walked over for a makeshift duel.
Chapter 123: Dance of the FirefliesThe villagers formed a large circle around the fire, and two of them stepped forwards until they were perilously close to the fire. As the ring of villages circled and danced around the fire, the two inside it danced wildly, thrashing their arms in the air and flinging their upper bodies dramatically up and down as if to dislocate their body."Quite a dance, eh," Danemy said. "Is that safe?""Ah, we would never come up with something like this," the guard said, smiling. "It is the dance of the Emati people, because we are sending a prayer to their gods. In the earlier times, many of them had died in this way, to the fire. But they have pared back the dance slightly since then, and now we can follow it easily. It only looks dangerous, but we don't find it difficult."Soon, the loud chanting and dancing stopped, and the villagers stood in place, shuffling around disappointedly."This prayer didn't work," the guard sighed. "Well, this happens sometimes. It was a prayer to the Emati god of fortune, now we shall try a prayer to Aluriel, what is called in your language books their 'God of Witnessing Transcendence.' But that is not exact, maybe better is 'God at the doorway to transcendence.' The Emati say he stands at the gateway to heaven from earth, and shows the glory of heaven like a firefly in a dark night. The Emati say that moments of great beauty in nature, like pure waterfalls and mountains, are a display of heaven. That is why they are so frantic in their dance, they think that the fire is a gateway to heaven, and they hence act wild as a fire in order to try and commune with the gods.""'Doorway to transcendence'? That's quite a complex image," Crucis said. "What kind of prayer will you offer?""He is also their god of ceremony and ritual, so if we can send a prayer to him, then maybe we will succeed at contacting more of the Emati gods. Listen, I will tell you our prayer."The villagers began to dance again, similarly to the last time, but this time their shrieks were louder and almost sounded aggressive. As Crucis listened closely, he could make out that the beginning of the chant sounded like, 'chii ai sal aichii.'"Here is what they are singing, in a way you could understand:"Over the charred earththe wave of firelight flies,and beneath it our worldis twice benightedby the fire's scars and by its shadows."O, star over the earthspreading your wings,you cast two shadows.No beauty resists your touch,no hope does not wither,and every king shall turnto find you staring there."Alas, he who mounts a throne,shall someday see your fiery eyeswaiting behind it,or he who vaunts upon the world,shall someday see the earth palewhen a golden seed of your primrose is planted.""'Over the charred earth' was the part which sounded like 'chii ai sal aichii'?" Crucis did, doing his best to sportingly imitate the strange, bat-like language of the villagers.The guard chuckled and patted him on the back, taking this attempt at the language in good faith, but responded seriously."Yes. 'Sal' means 'debris left below by something above,' it is typically used for hurricane or storm. But here, since the fire is above the earth, I say 'charred.' The word for 'benighted' here is also like that, it is similar to 'shadowed' in your language, but for us it is more strong, like eclipse by shadow. 'Firelight' is maybe a strange word, but it is close to what we said.""I see. Well, that's a good translation, then, well done.""Thank you. This prayer was a success, and we are rewarded with increased damage when we use magic, and better luck when forging weapons. Also, the 'success rate' of our prayers has increased for the next four attempts, especially for prayers to the Emati gods and those of their sister people, the Arkeet. Now we are debating which gods to try next."As the villagers huddled around the fire and talked quietly, Crucis noticed a loud, bell-like noise from the side, as Grisier's Sacred Coal erupted into a heatless, magical white flame. Soon, it had transformed into a Black Powder Spell Scroll, a spell which allowed Cryomancers to summon and cast a black powder that would cause intense cold if it touched the opponent. It was especially effective in a cold area, or if used in conjunction with ice.Crucis guessed that the 'black powder' might be the colder equivalent to the white powder which the villagers had used to heat the iron mask before placing it onto the witch.Now, the villagers began to form two large rings around the fire, each rotating in opposite directions as they danced. The outer ring moved in a ceremonial, slow counter-clockwise direction, while the inner ring was even more slow and only made small, fragile movements and steps."They have decided to give a prayer to a god of the Arkeet, name is Dorotea, she is known as the 'goddess of wretchedness.' She inhabits all wretchedness and frailty, they say, and gives comfort to the damned. The Arkeet are mostly extinct due to constant plague and disease, but we found a small outpost and killed them. They are a strange people, but also more powerful than the Emati, and that is why we send prayer to Dorotea."This time, the chant was more high-pitched and stately, and at times almost sounded like a slow, elegant rendition of 'O Fortuna.'The guard explained the chant."Misery loves company."My sole bride is the flowers upon my grave,"Dorotea, sweet bride of pain,"you are the lithe shadow that followsthe leper, in time with his step,and mirrors his sufferingand never flees his side,"your pulse withers away each winter,like the song of a frail lyre,within the heartsof those who wander lost,"you are death to the dyingL1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Nvl--B1n.and wail, by all suffering scarred."You are the angel that follows usto the place of execution,and the noose is your lips,"eternal bride of the damned."You are the tear in the sapphire."After the chant was done, the flames leapt notably into the air, but from the ashes a still, silent voice called out in an unfamiliar language. The villagers talked among themselves quickly, then prepared to chant again."The prayer was valid, but now she will 'interrogate' us," the guard said. "Sometimes, even if the prayer describes their domain, they will ask further, more specific questions to make sure. It is a tricky matter."Crucis felt the sacred ash in his hands beginning to stir slightly, as if a fire occasionally flared up within it."What's their first question?" Danemy asked."A voice whispered it from the ashes," the guard answered. "It is, 'How am I an angel in the place of execution?'""She's fishing for compliments, is she?" Crucis laughed. "Well, hopefully you pull this off.""Yes, yes. If she accepts our answer, I think she will have another question."Q. How am I an angel in the place of execution?You are the shadows that haunt the gallows,the hanged man's choked cry is an echo of yours,your voice is his last thought.Your lips purse in silken penitence,as you turn pale in his suffocation,and your body wiltsbeneath a lifeless stare.Q. If this man wanted to see me, where could he find me?That is why you are seen in her mirror.Q. What is love?It is a conjured painwhen the soul is born in strife,and needs this hurt to feellike itself.It is the song of the emotions,which bleed life's vividness awayuntil they can reposein their home, the grave.It is the marriage of your sufferingwith death, where it belongs,and it is the vigour of wretchednessas it haunts the diseased sufferer,envious that death shall take himand end their lovely grotesque.It is the hope of hearts long-dead,and the answer that exults in ringing hollow.Q. I sang to Dorotea once, and won her over, birthing my son Hysteria. How did I sing, according to the legends?'The world has turned cold.You will not know your hopes,you will not dream;just lie here with me,and we will dream in death.There forms nothing new hereto unparch us with new sensationsand even the sun is a fearsome lancethat hisses its flames at us,so talk about nothing.Let us go. We shall find what dreams,what beautiful pallid dreams, you weavewhen the night has envelopedso deep that we cannot dream.You'll find a home from home,furnished with the hearth of my desire.I know your heart will never stop,it is the leaping light that guides uslike a star.'The fire flared up, and the prayer was successful."Excellent, but all of these interrogations make me nervous," the guard said. "It is often better to try and find a god who can be reached in one prayer, because the longer an interrogation, the more time for it to be discounted pettily. But the Emati and Arkeet gods are like this, and it was worth trying. Now our 'Constitution' will be higher, and we will get stronger the more that we are attacked. But we can move on to other gods now."In the meantime, Crucis noticed that Danemy had a new, triangular black dagger which had emerged from the sacred ash. As Danemy tested it out, it was clear that this blade was incredibly sharp, despite its simple, short, blocky appearance.The villagers had already begun a new dance, now all in one, disorganised ring around the fire. They began to shriek loudly, but in an almost colloquial, understated rhythm."What's this new chant?" DicingDevil asked the guard casually. "By the way, this ritual is impressive. I think we have some idea of how it works, is there any way that we could help out?""Hm. You could, in fact, and you may also get some rewards. But it is unsafe for you to come near the fire. There is something else. We mostly live in this area, but some gods are based on things you might know more. We would like to try challenging these gods. You could etch a chant on a stone like this, to guide us."He picked up a red, cuboid stone, that looked like a less decorated version of the ones which Crucis had taken for lag purposes.Holding out the stone, the guard said, "You may all write one or two lines on paper, if you have it, and I will try to translate them onto this stone. If you do well, then it will help us, by showing the way, also kindling the fire further. And you will also get some benefits if the prayer succeeds.""Alright," DicingDevil said. "We can start with the next god. But which god is the current chant for? It's very calm.""It is for a goddess of the Mikan people, they are a strange people. Both lewd and prosaic, always excited but also in drudgery. This is to Ilmajes, their goddess of 'hope in despair.'"I saw you in the storm,we were walking in the smog that grows beneath heavy rain,black air that pools like black bloodas if earth failed to breathe in smothering rain's fabric,I saw an angel,and your light bleached the clouds white,until the rain seemed snowflakes cut from crystal;your small hand was a bursting sunon the earth.There is no solace for the damnedexcept to dissolvein your fingers' touch.Ilmajes, our morning star!Your grace is all that's left of us!As the prayer was accepted, a faint drizzle began to pour from the clouds.A few of the villagers climbed up a hut and precautiously grabbed hold of a large, wooden platform leaning against it, preparing to build a temporary shelter from rain to protect the fire if necessary. But in seconds the drizzle had abated.Starfighter's sacred ash had flared up, leaving behind what looked like a sword with multiple long, silver blades. However, as he lifted it, it became clear that what had appeared to be the blades of a sword were actually long, bladed whips, and he whirled them lightly in the air to make sure. The silver whips spread fluidly through the air like waves of rain.Crucis saw that the weapon was named Urumi."That is a special weapon," the guard told Starfighter. "You must know at least basic whip skill to use it. But it is a weapon that is in constant motion, a very dangerous one for both the user and enemy. So you must become skilled to use it well. It leaves deep wounds and bleeding, flesh torn apart, and if against many opponents they will have many wounds even from one Urumi user. But not as lethal as dagger or sword, so we switch to those at the end of fight."Starfighter tried to whirl the Urumi around and slash it forwards, as a test, but soon stopped after he accidentally cut a small wound on his arm with the whirring blades."I have some experience with whips, since I helped some Eastern villagers with quests involving herding animals," Starfighter mentioned. "But this thing is crazy. Its movement speed is way higher than anything else, it's going to hurt if it hits me by accident."Although he spoke in a resigned tone, he began covertly increasing the level of his Whip Handling skill, not one to turn down a challenge like this. Further, the attacks of these long whips were almost akin to AoE, and would be very effective at grinding in the wild if he could figure them out."Let us show you," the guard said, smiling. He held out his hand, and Starfighter handed him the Urumi.Another village guard picked up a grey Urumi of his own, which looked quite battered from years of use, and walked over for a makeshift duel.
