“I’m surprised to say it, but I slept rather well.”
Lyssa yawns and stretches her arms out as she walks out of the dark room. She lifts her shoulder and rubs her cheek against it. She’s trying to properly wake up, but she’s still a little drowsy.
“I expected worse when Daemion said we would ‘enter the realm of nightmares’, but I haven’t had a single bad dream.”
Oslando sounds rather positive as well. He clears his throat. Maybe it’s because of what occult ritual the fihyr performed, but his mouth is as dry as parchment. He licks his lips behind his hand.
“I’m glad to hear you all had a good rest.”
Daemion appears out of the thick smoke, his eyes glowing bright. The mist hides his smile and the drop of saliva running down at the corner of his mouth.
“If you can all make your way to the central room we can begin the ritual. I’ll join you after I collected my beverages from the fihyr.”
It still sounds rather ominous to them, but they have made their peace with it. Maybe, in a world like this, this is a very mundane thing. Besides, so far these priests have been nothing but helpful and understanding.
“Unless…” Daemion stares at them. “Has anyone changed his or her mind? When we begin, I don’t want to interrupt the ritual. I could, but it will displease the Father, potentially influencing the other blessings.”
Dargothoth looks up from the ground. It’s now or never and he has to know.
“In my world I am a follower of the mighty god Nerull.” He overcompensates the shred of uncertainty with exaggerated pride. “I will not test and challenge a grand deity like him by showing signs of disbelief here. What does your go-” The sivak clears his throat. “What does your Father think of this?”
Daemion smiles with sympathy. It’s the question he expected him to ask, he only guessed it would be sooner.
“None of the Parents holds grudges for this. Every demon and devil can worship whoever he or she wants. There are a few rules however, all just plain common sense. If you are blessed by a Parent, the boon will be taken if the follower acts against the explicit will of their Parent. Also, killing another follower or defiling a temple or holy altar can have the same consequence. You can always change the blessing. You can just go the a different guldûn and replace it. You can’t have multiple ones. It’s all very reasonable. If it applies to us demons, it also applies to ucha’ari. As for your own god… I think you know his will better than I do, my fellow priest. And I think you fear the answer to that question.”
They sit on the first pew, close to the dreadful statue. Its terrifying shadow dances on the walls behind it. They don’t know exactly how long Daemion has been downstairs to collect whatever concoctions he wants to drink, but it feels like he’s taking too long. Maybe the anticipation for the horror show that will take place is part of the trial. If it is, it’s working for Bruq and Lyssa. The satyr’s hooves create a slightly annoying tapping sound with every nervous step he takes. The siren sits with one leg across the other, shaking her boot uncontrollably.
“You’re making the entire bench shake.” Oslando laughs and puts his hand on her knee, trying to stop the trembling. “I’m anxious too, but whatever we’re going to face, it’s only temporary. Just like pain, you’ll have forgotten it by tomorrow.”
A restrained laugh draws their attention. Daemion walks leisurely towards them. With every step, the sound of scraping glass fills the room. He holds five strings in his right hand, all tied to the neck of a bottle. It’s the size of a bottle of wine and see-through, so they can see the pearly liquid that fills them.
“I don’t know if you forget what you’re about the experience tomorrow already, but it will not hurt you. At least not physically.”
He puts down the bottles next to the altar and turns to the doorway he just came through. He raises his hands and his white markings light up.
“Let me introduce you to the creature that makes this trial of fear possible. This, followers-to-be, is a fihyr.”
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten