“You’re distracted.” Auriëlle said as she walked beside Esiré. A girl who was quickly becoming a close friend. All of those who had come from Nallan were getting dear to her. They fought with a  ferocity she could only respect. But ever since they burned the farmstead, the young girl had been obsessed with a  satchel filled with clay tablets. Right now she was holding one with a flame etched upon the clay.

Esiré looked up only moments later. “Oh, I’m sorry I just…it’s fascinating.” She handed one of the tablets to Auriëlle, before taking another one out of the satchel. “It’s magic etched in stone. I didn’t think it was possible.”

The sorceress let out a laugh, a genuine one, as she listened and observed the tablet. “Because you saw me just moving my hands and cast magic?” She asked.

“Well…yes. I’ve tried it, it didn’t work.” Esiré admitted, as she received the tablet back from Auriëlle. Quite gently she put both pieces back into the satchel and let it hang off her shoulder down to her hip again. “It seems as if I don’t have a talent for magic.”

“Neither did I when I was your age.” Auriëlle noted. “Day and night I tried to get a fire going. Never worked. Where I come from, you were either taught how to fight or how to cast magic. So we approached magic like others approached swordfighting.”

“So it can be learned?” Esiré asked.

“It can, but it’s not easy. I’m not entirely sure what happened. One day… a stone just came falling down from the night sky. Shadows appeared but I burned them. Then I ran.” Auriëlle never felt homesick. She never even missed Acadia. But those memories did make her feel a little sad. “Since then my power only grew and it would seem it gained me the attention of several gods.”

“You think… I could learn?” Esiré asked, enraptured by the idea of using magic.

“Sure you can!”
[hr]
That night Esiré took three more of her trusted people with her, away from the fire. It was early in the evening but the purple moon was making enough light for them now. She led them to a secluded clearing, where several bowls of water were waiting. And Auriëlle, sitting crossed-legged in front of one. The member of the cult greeted her by bowing deeply and sitting on their knees before the bowls.

“You know why you’ve come?” Asked the sorceress as her pupils sat down. It felt strange to have actual students now. She never saw herself as a teacher. Then again, she really wasn’t. She was just going to show them how to summon a demon. It was a spell even she could use.

Everyone in the circle nodded. They came for magic. To learn the easiest spell according to Auriëlle. The spell to summon a demon.

“Good. Then let us begin. I’m going to recite the spell and then I want you all to repeat it again.” They nodded, and Auriëlle said the spell. Some of her students had to be corrected. While it was a simple spell, Auriëlle didn’t want to know what would happen if you bungled it up. When she was confident the spell was well memorized, she silenced them all. Then she actually summoned a demon from the bowl before her. Outstretching her hand above it as she spoke the words of the spell. Golden fire rippled across the water’s surface, before the water turned dark with a red glow. Slowly she raised her hand. Drawing up a blob of the strange liquid. Once the mass was drawn out and separated from the water, it began to take shape. Within seconds it was shaped like a wolf with a split mouth and two eyes too many one side, with a scorpion tail. Once dropped to the ground, it walked around Auriëlle and obediently sat down next to her. Then she bid her pupils to do the same.

The spell was carefully recited but one man held his hand far too close to the water. Before he could finish, she pushed his bowl away. Probably saving him from being consumed by the dangerous mass. “Never touch it.” She almost hissed, before drawing the bowl closer and letting him try again. The others were more careful. Within moments the golden flames appeared, and minutes later the first demons spawned. They took various but small shapes. A bird, an small rat, a cat-like creature. Esiré’s demon took the shape of a snake, which soon slithered up around her arm. It was by far the most intricately formed demon.

With the lesson completed everyone dispelled their demon. Some already felt exhausted by the effort of summoning the creature. Most slipped in a dreamless sleep. Most, but not Esiré. Who sat wide awake watching the stars. Her mind obsessing over her Prophetess’ magic, the runes on the clay tablets and the demonic mass she had conjured up.
[hr]
In the early morning Gundurr approached the young pupil, leading her away from the group. “I know what you’ve been doing. I know what you are.” The chieftain said as he grabbed her arm to make her stop.

Esiré just looked up with a frown. “What have I been doing?” She asked, yanking her arm free.

The chieftain let a small smile crack. “Nobody sacrifices people around here.” He whispered.

“Maybe they should.” Esiré sneered back.

Gundurr got a dark expression. “Careful, girl. If you’re talking about the matters of gods you might be blaspheming. No god in this land asks for blood.”

For a second Esiré kept silent. But then she said: “Yes they do. They ask for it all the time. I’ve heard the story of Evenstar. Cadien demanded the blood of your village when Carn and Auriëlle came. You and yours bled for them.”

“We did it to get rid of bandits.” Gundurr defended. “Gods or no gods, they had to go.”

“Did they?” Esiré shot back. “I heard the story. Your village only rallied because Carn called for it. Carn, who was declared leader of your village by some madman speaking in the name of Cadien. Your gods ask for blood too.” She turned around to march back to the rest of the group. But Gundurr grabbed her by the arm again. Suddenly there was a bone knife against his throat. “Want to be sacrificed as well.

“No.” He said, softly, as he released her arm. “But you speak of my gods. Then who are your gods? Who do you worship that you’d bleed a man dry for him?”

Esiré grinned. She was alone with him. For the first time she could enjoy to speak freely of what she believed. “The gods that will kill us all. The gods that will destroy this world. The gods of the end. This world is already doomed. But we will be reborn in the next one. Free of all that burdens us now. We shall bring it about. By our blood and stone.” With those words said, she put the knife away and walked away. Leaving a stunned Gundurr.
[hr]
That evening Esiré sat hunched over a coyote. It was dead. A clean arrow to its head finished it off quickly. It was a scrawny thing, with little meat. She didn’t kill it for the meat though. With her copper knife she was deftly cutting away the connective tissue between the skin and the body at large. The meat that it had would be scrapped off and used in a stew. While the bones would act as trophies perhaps. Some of the viscera she had removed already laid in a pile beside her. By the end of tomorrow it would all be gone. Consumed by carrion eaters.

Quite wordlessly she was spinning her prayer with every cut. Praying to the god of Auriëlle. Praying to Thaën, god of death. Praying to the nameless god of magic, and then the nameless god of destruction. For the first time she realized how little she knew. She knew Oullena, goddess of the moon. Oraela, goddess of the sun. There was the famous Cadien. Yet at least two great gods had not offered up their names. She lookd up at the sky. It was twilight. One half of the heavens were dominated by Oraela’s sun. The other consumed by Oullena’s darkness. With Sigirus’ stars glittering in the night sky. Soon the pale moon would rise as well.

She stopped musing about divinity the second she heard the crack of branches. Instantly she shot up, pointing her knife towards whoever was coming, while she clutched for a tablet in her satchel. Gundurr, with his hands in front of him, appeared from the half-beaten dirt path. “Just me.” He said, carefully. Esiré lowered her blade, then turned around to continue her skinning.

“I knew you’d come.” She said facing away from him. Still sounding exceptionally confident. She didn’t really know why. Maybe it was the conviction with which she spoke her words early today. It felt as if they were more than just sounds. They were truths everyone would have to accept at some point. Truths that would not let go.

Gundurr kneeled before her, with the coyote in between them. For a moment he observed her work in silence. “Clean work.” He eventually said. “Who taught you?”

“My father. Before he died.” She answered, as she cut around the claws of the animal. Keeping them on its pelt. “Why are you here?”

Gundurr kept silent for a while. Esiré didn’t mind. The longer he was quiet, the further she’d get with the skinning in the twilight. Removing skin in the dark was a rather tiresome process. It would seem as if Gundurr understood this. Somehow. As he remained quiet until it was quite dark already. “You really believe the world will end? At the hands of the gods. Your gods?”

“I do.” Esiré said, without pause.

“How can you be so certain?” The chieftain asked.

“What do you know of Bul’Gadin?” Esiré asked as she removed some more viscera to throw on the pile.

“Nothing.”

“We burned it. To the ground. In the same way as we burned Teperia.” Esiré grabbed a piece of cloth and cleaned the blade. Quite surprisingly, there was that much blood on it. “But Auriëlle and a select few weren’t there. We were watching from afar. At a stone circle made by the druids. There, Auriëlle talked to the gods. One god told her that what she did, the destruction she had wrought was nothing compared to what’s to come.” She looked up, an intense fire burned in her amber eyes as they locked with those of Gundurr. “This world is doomed. It is wretched. False. Wicked. It took from me my parents. My life. My future. It would’ve taken my life, if I had let it. It was me against the world and she showed me that I was not alone in that fight.”

“I have people to care for.” Gundurr said, trying to defend the thoughts he could not deny any more. The world had taken things from him as well. Yet he was a chieftain.

“So do I.” Esiré said as she continued her skinning. “Believing the world will someday end does not mean you should resign from life. We don’t. We prepare for it. Auriëlle is the prophetess. Someday the gods will tell her it is time. This world will not end by divine hands. It will be mortals. Tearing each other apart. Ruining this world until there is nothing left but ash and blood. When that day comes, we will be ready to make sure there are no stragglers. No lose ends. A clean cut. So the next world can begin completely unshackled from this one.”

Again silence reigned for a few minutes. Until Gundurr asked another question: “By blood and stone. What does it mean?”

Esiré chuckled. “It means we sacrificed our blood. Not just us. Our children as well. And their children as well. We don’t know when the end comes. Tomorrow. Next winter. In a next life? Maybe someday our ancestors will have to carry our burden. By stone means by our every action. With every stone we lay, we accept and make sure that someday it can come crashing down.”

Gundurr grunted and gave her a curt nod before walk away again. Esiré kept to skinning the coyote, though she had a rather confident smile now. Next night, he’d be back. Asking more questions.

[hider=Summary]
Auriëlle and Esiré are travelling back towards Carn’s camp. Esiré is enamored with the clay tablets the nobleman used to cast his magic. They have a short discussion about magic, during which Auriëlle explains how magic is a skill that can be learned. Then she tells Esiré that she’ll teach her how to call upon a demon.

That night they practice the demon spell. Five cultists including Esiré managed to successfully summon a demon without injuries and threats.

The next day Gundurr confronts Esiré about her blood sacrifices. Specifically that that no god in the Highlands asks for blood. The cultist snaps back, telling him (because they’re in private) that they do call for blood. Just not as blatantly. Eventually Gundurr asks about which gods she worships and she reveals that she worships the gods of destruction that will bring about the doom of this world before stepping away.

Somehow feeling intrigued about this idea, Gundurr approaches Esiré that night when she’s skinning a coyote. She explains what the cultists believe, answer the questions Gundurr has. Gundurr walks away again but Esiré knows he will be back. Constantly.
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[hider=Prestige]
[b]Post Length:[/b] +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Auriëlle
+5 Prestige >> Cultists of the Destroyer
-20 Prestige >> Cultists of the Destroyer for receiving title: Phemians II – Certain sacred words spoken by a cultist linger in the minds of mortals. Snaking their way into their thoughts and ideas if allowed and able to fester. These whispers generally remain with individuals who experienced great loss, pain or desire vengeance and destruction. While those less conforming with the ideal of the sacred words will soon forget them. Should one not act upon the whispers and reject them, they will quickly fade once more.
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