{Verdandi} To honor with blood: Part 2
She passed down the slope into the valley's heart, the sand still pulsing underneath her feet, subsuming itself in her clothes. To both the left and the right, large stone doorways loomed into the stone face; living quarters. She altered her course to the lake slightly and angled up into one of the alcoves.
Dinner tables still sat on the floor, their contents having long ago been consumed. Cutlery sat out just as it had been left. Clothes hung on airers. Children's toys lay scattered across the floor, untouched. She looked on in silence, the sorrow bleeding out from her. They had gone, whomever they were. They had gone with but a moment's notice. All their life left behind. Here. She wondered if the same would happen to the Sleepers when the world had gone. All that remained behind was the wind to hear their story.
She sighed deeply and turned away from the hall, heading out once more into the sunlight towards the lake. An altar lay on the opposite shore, imposing and glistening with gore both fresh and ancient. Her gaze travelled longingly to the lake's liquid surface as she passed by it, the reeds steady in their still waters.
Eight figures stood tall and imposing, a slab held aloft between them ten feet high. A ninth figure stood alone at the fore, just before the lake, the bloody altar in his hands, scales carved into excruciating detail with the Dragon-god's head at the top. His toothy maw law open in a viscious cradle. A tablet lay concealed at his base.
She approached it, kneeling down to get a better look. The congealed blood blocked out most of the meaning so she took the scarf she had formerly been using as a hijab to unveil its secrets. She read it's words as they came uncovered.
"To look upon me, is to see that which has passed. To look upon me is to dream what was, what is, what will be. Beware, children of Sobek, if you have falsely betrayed my teaching, for I shall cast you down from your high estate into the darkness of the caves from whence you came."
A voice spoke quietly behind her, somewhat familiar, "Lost in a book again, I see."
She jumped, spinning up quickly, looking for who spoke. Her eyes landed on a contrasted body, the man's right side was hale and hearty, but the left appeared to be suffering some form of degenerative condition. His cheek was sunken and sallow, his eye drooping and haggard, with rough facial hair growing patchily. He strongly favoured his right side, but signs of the necrosis appeared to be spreading to the other side as well. Ethan Kassidy, once Primus of House Thig within the Order of Hermes... but what was he doing here?
Verdandi took in his appearance, appearing undisturbed as her fluttering heart slowed. "All knowledge is worth having. It is the effort that makes it more so."
He watched her evenly, "Not all knowledge is worth having, I'll think you'll find. Even those who remembered everything sometimes wished they didn't. Is knowledge of how Hitler's butchers in Auschwitz felt as they fed victims to the chambers of any real use, for example? or is it merely a side note, that changes nothing about what happened?"
She responded in kind, "What we know, shapes who we are. We cannot change what the Sisters decree we should know, what paths we should follow. Certainly, there are things which I know that pain me or others, that expose the dangerous underbelly of all we fear and abhor, but that does not change that I know it, or that it has not changed me in the process."
"Then the question becomes, what cost knowledge?"
She considered, "That is for the individual to decide. Some carry more courage inside them for the things which must be done. Others flee before it."
His eyes were cunning as he responded, "Then to continue, what price do you place for yourself? By your original train of thought, the path of a Marauder is legitimate - or a Nephandus."
She shook her head slowly, "No, their power is for themselves. I cannot follow such a shallow path." She paused, "As for my price... that depends on what it is I am sacrificing for."
He nodded, "Good answers. About bloody time someone thought about this properly."
She smirked slightly, but it went almost as soon as it had come. Skeptically, she asked, "What do you mean?"
He rolled his eyes, "Oh come on - you mean to tell me you've never seen it before? There're a lot of idiots out there who seem to have the knack of sacrificing everything before they even know what's actually on the bloody line. Like this one bloke, Krispin Kleen. Euthanatos. Nice enough guy to have a beer with, but thick as a donkey....ask Nicodemus about him at some point."
She made a mental note of it and went on, "I think I misunderstood your statement then. I have seen numerous people who, when the Gods or men asked something of them, walked blindly without any clue. They do not realize that we are a game to them sometimes. That that which they ask is for nothing more than their amusement. Everyone loses in that case."
He shrugged, "I could say some corny crap about all the world's a stage - but I think you get where I'm going with this. Look about you, Verdandi. This place has been deserted for months now. Gaia called those who lived here back to the cycle. The remnants....well, I have no idea where those spirits who resided here have gone, truth be told. All I can tell you is this - the deal here is very straightforward."
The wariness in her voice was noted, "And the memories... are they for my own experiences or may I choose any in existence?"
"Dragon has no particular desire to double charge you for your own memories. He's not an Indonesian landlord, y'know. There's an element of choice involved, but there're also certain rules. For instance, you can't see the start of the universe. That's fluid. There are as many different beginnings as there are beliefs. Each has as much or as little validity as you choose to place on it. Nor can you be shown the future."
Fair enough. She refrained from laughing.
He continued, "At the end of the day, what you get is a memory. Not cold, hard facts, sealed up in a nice, neat little package."
She nodded slowly, looking at the slack skin on his body, "Anything else I should know then? You look as though you have experienced this for yourself."
Ethan shifted slightly, "You could say that, I suppose. That's pretty much it. Each memory is one drop of blood, fed directly to the altar.just push your finger, or whatever it is you crazy kids do, against ol yeller's teeth. Say what you wish to be shown. Oh - And the limit is 5. Dragon don't plan on giving up the secrets of the universe, y'know?"
The Norse woman smiled, "I can imagine." She looks back up to the statue behind her and then to the Hermetic once more. The pack on her back swung to the front as she pulled it open and dug through it, fishing out an old, sharp knife with a polished black handle. She knelt beside the statue. She pierced her thumb easily with the knife and pressed it to the statue's base, forcing all other thoughts from her head save the question she wished to ask the God. The blood trickled forth from her finger, slowly joining the myriad other stains upon the altar's teeth. She did this twice more, pausing between each to absorb the gravity of her questions. Each time, the hungry statue drank up her offering as a newborn to the teat of its hunger.
She pulled the cut thumb to her mouth and rose slowly. Ethan's voice echoes in the background. "Twice more you can visit, Verdandi. Eventually, all things fade. Even memory."
She shook her head, still staring at the altar, "It is never wise to press your temperance with the Gods, even when permitted to. There are more questions I could ask but three is a number of power, and so it shall remain."
He laughed behind her, "A child who doesn't eat more than her fill. It's refreshing."
She pulled a small fist-sized pouch from her pack and opened the contents, exposing tiny irregularly shaped river pearls. She took her thumb from her mouth and dripped a few drops onto the offering. "This Child of Water honors you. May her offering please." She knelt down and left the pearls at the base of the altar, rising once more.
The man behind her twisted his head, quizzically. "Go with sun's blessing, Verdandi. When you exit the gate, you will find yourself back where you came."
She nodded and turned back to Ethan, nodding respectfully to him, "Thank you for your help this day. It will not be forgotten."
He snickered "Of course it won't. It's a memory." And with that, the wind whipped about him, leaving behind a shrivelled husk of flesh.
Verdandi looked on fondly for a moment, a smile teasing her lips. Her steps gradually begin to take her back towards the gate. When she remove her backpack next, her hands found the stone tablet from the city within. Attached is a small paper note, with neatly written English upon it.
You're an odd one, Verdandi. I like you. When next you sleep, the answers you came here in search of will join you in your dreams. In the meantime....take the tablet. When you do sleep, place three drops of blood upon the crown, two atop the text, and a single drop upon the base of the tablet itself. Keep it besides you as you rest, and Dragon will give unto you your final gift for your respect. This place will soon pass from memory too - but perhaps there is another path, to preserve that which was.
She smiled and laughed a little to no one imparticular, tucking the note away and nodding. "My thanks, Ethan. I'll look into it."
That night, she did exactly as written...
Dinner tables still sat on the floor, their contents having long ago been consumed. Cutlery sat out just as it had been left. Clothes hung on airers. Children's toys lay scattered across the floor, untouched. She looked on in silence, the sorrow bleeding out from her. They had gone, whomever they were. They had gone with but a moment's notice. All their life left behind. Here. She wondered if the same would happen to the Sleepers when the world had gone. All that remained behind was the wind to hear their story.
She sighed deeply and turned away from the hall, heading out once more into the sunlight towards the lake. An altar lay on the opposite shore, imposing and glistening with gore both fresh and ancient. Her gaze travelled longingly to the lake's liquid surface as she passed by it, the reeds steady in their still waters.
Eight figures stood tall and imposing, a slab held aloft between them ten feet high. A ninth figure stood alone at the fore, just before the lake, the bloody altar in his hands, scales carved into excruciating detail with the Dragon-god's head at the top. His toothy maw law open in a viscious cradle. A tablet lay concealed at his base.
She approached it, kneeling down to get a better look. The congealed blood blocked out most of the meaning so she took the scarf she had formerly been using as a hijab to unveil its secrets. She read it's words as they came uncovered.
"To look upon me, is to see that which has passed. To look upon me is to dream what was, what is, what will be. Beware, children of Sobek, if you have falsely betrayed my teaching, for I shall cast you down from your high estate into the darkness of the caves from whence you came."
A voice spoke quietly behind her, somewhat familiar, "Lost in a book again, I see."
She jumped, spinning up quickly, looking for who spoke. Her eyes landed on a contrasted body, the man's right side was hale and hearty, but the left appeared to be suffering some form of degenerative condition. His cheek was sunken and sallow, his eye drooping and haggard, with rough facial hair growing patchily. He strongly favoured his right side, but signs of the necrosis appeared to be spreading to the other side as well. Ethan Kassidy, once Primus of House Thig within the Order of Hermes... but what was he doing here?
Verdandi took in his appearance, appearing undisturbed as her fluttering heart slowed. "All knowledge is worth having. It is the effort that makes it more so."
He watched her evenly, "Not all knowledge is worth having, I'll think you'll find. Even those who remembered everything sometimes wished they didn't. Is knowledge of how Hitler's butchers in Auschwitz felt as they fed victims to the chambers of any real use, for example? or is it merely a side note, that changes nothing about what happened?"
She responded in kind, "What we know, shapes who we are. We cannot change what the Sisters decree we should know, what paths we should follow. Certainly, there are things which I know that pain me or others, that expose the dangerous underbelly of all we fear and abhor, but that does not change that I know it, or that it has not changed me in the process."
"Then the question becomes, what cost knowledge?"
She considered, "That is for the individual to decide. Some carry more courage inside them for the things which must be done. Others flee before it."
His eyes were cunning as he responded, "Then to continue, what price do you place for yourself? By your original train of thought, the path of a Marauder is legitimate - or a Nephandus."
She shook her head slowly, "No, their power is for themselves. I cannot follow such a shallow path." She paused, "As for my price... that depends on what it is I am sacrificing for."
He nodded, "Good answers. About bloody time someone thought about this properly."
She smirked slightly, but it went almost as soon as it had come. Skeptically, she asked, "What do you mean?"
He rolled his eyes, "Oh come on - you mean to tell me you've never seen it before? There're a lot of idiots out there who seem to have the knack of sacrificing everything before they even know what's actually on the bloody line. Like this one bloke, Krispin Kleen. Euthanatos. Nice enough guy to have a beer with, but thick as a donkey....ask Nicodemus about him at some point."
She made a mental note of it and went on, "I think I misunderstood your statement then. I have seen numerous people who, when the Gods or men asked something of them, walked blindly without any clue. They do not realize that we are a game to them sometimes. That that which they ask is for nothing more than their amusement. Everyone loses in that case."
He shrugged, "I could say some corny crap about all the world's a stage - but I think you get where I'm going with this. Look about you, Verdandi. This place has been deserted for months now. Gaia called those who lived here back to the cycle. The remnants....well, I have no idea where those spirits who resided here have gone, truth be told. All I can tell you is this - the deal here is very straightforward."
The wariness in her voice was noted, "And the memories... are they for my own experiences or may I choose any in existence?"
"Dragon has no particular desire to double charge you for your own memories. He's not an Indonesian landlord, y'know. There's an element of choice involved, but there're also certain rules. For instance, you can't see the start of the universe. That's fluid. There are as many different beginnings as there are beliefs. Each has as much or as little validity as you choose to place on it. Nor can you be shown the future."
Fair enough. She refrained from laughing.
He continued, "At the end of the day, what you get is a memory. Not cold, hard facts, sealed up in a nice, neat little package."
She nodded slowly, looking at the slack skin on his body, "Anything else I should know then? You look as though you have experienced this for yourself."
Ethan shifted slightly, "You could say that, I suppose. That's pretty much it. Each memory is one drop of blood, fed directly to the altar.just push your finger, or whatever it is you crazy kids do, against ol yeller's teeth. Say what you wish to be shown. Oh - And the limit is 5. Dragon don't plan on giving up the secrets of the universe, y'know?"
The Norse woman smiled, "I can imagine." She looks back up to the statue behind her and then to the Hermetic once more. The pack on her back swung to the front as she pulled it open and dug through it, fishing out an old, sharp knife with a polished black handle. She knelt beside the statue. She pierced her thumb easily with the knife and pressed it to the statue's base, forcing all other thoughts from her head save the question she wished to ask the God. The blood trickled forth from her finger, slowly joining the myriad other stains upon the altar's teeth. She did this twice more, pausing between each to absorb the gravity of her questions. Each time, the hungry statue drank up her offering as a newborn to the teat of its hunger.
She pulled the cut thumb to her mouth and rose slowly. Ethan's voice echoes in the background. "Twice more you can visit, Verdandi. Eventually, all things fade. Even memory."
She shook her head, still staring at the altar, "It is never wise to press your temperance with the Gods, even when permitted to. There are more questions I could ask but three is a number of power, and so it shall remain."
He laughed behind her, "A child who doesn't eat more than her fill. It's refreshing."
She pulled a small fist-sized pouch from her pack and opened the contents, exposing tiny irregularly shaped river pearls. She took her thumb from her mouth and dripped a few drops onto the offering. "This Child of Water honors you. May her offering please." She knelt down and left the pearls at the base of the altar, rising once more.
The man behind her twisted his head, quizzically. "Go with sun's blessing, Verdandi. When you exit the gate, you will find yourself back where you came."
She nodded and turned back to Ethan, nodding respectfully to him, "Thank you for your help this day. It will not be forgotten."
He snickered "Of course it won't. It's a memory." And with that, the wind whipped about him, leaving behind a shrivelled husk of flesh.
Verdandi looked on fondly for a moment, a smile teasing her lips. Her steps gradually begin to take her back towards the gate. When she remove her backpack next, her hands found the stone tablet from the city within. Attached is a small paper note, with neatly written English upon it.
You're an odd one, Verdandi. I like you. When next you sleep, the answers you came here in search of will join you in your dreams. In the meantime....take the tablet. When you do sleep, place three drops of blood upon the crown, two atop the text, and a single drop upon the base of the tablet itself. Keep it besides you as you rest, and Dragon will give unto you your final gift for your respect. This place will soon pass from memory too - but perhaps there is another path, to preserve that which was.
She smiled and laughed a little to no one imparticular, tucking the note away and nodding. "My thanks, Ethan. I'll look into it."
That night, she did exactly as written...