Novels2Search

Chapter 219

For nearly two centuries, we have abandoned all proselytism due to previous failures. Instead, the Holy State has allowed itself to focus all possibilities of foreign conversion on warfare. The Veratocracy’s military might is, of course, the greatest on the continent, but if we make an enemy of every nation on Elioloi we will be unprepared for any incursion or aggression attempted by one of the savage continents to the northwest or far east.

Therefore, it is the progressive body’s suggestion that the august body of the Synod reintroduce more peaceful proselytism–missionaries and lessons and nonviolent teachings! This way, we can unite all the lesser races under the Gran Verat’s guidance and lead them to a higher existence!

-From an address given to the progressive body of the Synod by High Veran Djallma

Ana had good and bad news for me; the good news was that Ana knew of a different nest of keelish, while the bad news was that it was outside of the bounds of the territory she frequently visited. Thus, my plans for an immediate bolstering of my troops were set aside for now.

As we began our journey, the Moonchildren were more relaxed than I would have begun to expect was possible when traveling with a large group of people who were, self-admittedly, our enemies. We had fought violently and without restraint, the swarm had killed five of their number before eating them, and… every one of the Moonchildren (a group of which was called a kamory, or pool of blood in their language, according to them) was happy and willing to try to communicate with the swarm. I was surprised to see the Moonchildren themselves attempt to initiate conversations, and asked once why they would do so. The response varied little from one individual to the next: “You are fahvalo. Sometimes that means that blood is spilt, and sometimes that means that conversations should be had.”

Regardless of any individual desires for communication, it was far from simple for anybody involved since the two keelish other than myself that spoke any amount of the common tongue were Sybil and Shemira. I’d never considered myself a teacher, and as I tried to teach the common tongue to my swarm, there was limited effect. Unsurprisingly, Sybil remained the most adept at learning the tongue, but Shemira and Trai both threw themselves enthusiastically into the effort.

While the rest of the swarm struggled with their language lessons, I found myself cursing under my own breath as the night continued as I struggled through the last night without thermal vision to evolve [Improved Vision]. Of course, the Moonchildren lived up to their names and preferred to do the bulk of their travel at night, just as Ana had told me just before we had begun our journey, and I stumbled, careened, wobbled, and fell a dozen times that night as I stubbornly continued using exclusively my limited, very ordinary vision. I could feel my night vision improving as my [Tremorsense] struggled to give me the information necessary to continue my journey. That first night, my stubborn desire to evolve my [Skill] was the origin and the cause for the single exception to our relaxed journey eastward.

Ana approached me, her face completely unseeable for me in the darkness, but for her eyes. They reflected the faint light of the stars and moon, and her tone was confused and bemused. “Why are you so clumsy?”

“Because I cannot see, Ana. That’s why.”

“And why do you not use your ability to see much more clearly in the darkness?”

“To improve my vision.” I didn’t see any reason to expand on it, and my mood continued to sour, but Ana didn’t care as she laughed, or, more correctly, giggled. Like a little girl. At my expense. I found myself gritting my fangs hard enough that I felt them begin to creak as she gained enough control over herself to finally respond.

“To improve your vision… you cripple your ability to see?”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I couldn’t bring myself to verbally respond and simply nodded. The humiliation I felt began to pique my rage, and I considered lashing out at her, but I was desperate and sensible enough to keep myself from taking such a stupid action.

“I must be getting old, since that makes no sense to me.”

I sighed. “I have an innate understanding of myself. I know what things I must do to improve myself, and I do them. This will improve my eyesight.”

Immediately, Ana’s laughs ceased and she stood, unmoving, directly in front of me. Even with [Tremorsense], I wasn’t paying enough attention and stumbled into her. Before I could ask what had happened, she bowed, low, and spoke softly.

“I apologize. I did not realize that you were walking under the inspiration of the Gods. I had realized that you are god-touched, but even so, my ignorance galls me. I insist you extract a blood-price from me in penance.”

I came closer to falling in surprise to her obviously sincere words than I had from running into her. “Um… I don’t follow.”

Ana stayed bowed, submissive before me, and Sybil, staying nearby, hissed, “The rest of them are approaching. Careful.”

Ana spoke, head still bowed, as I barely noted a couple crackling branches around me. “You are operating under inspiration, and I mocked your efforts. Narsha’at demands that my blood be spilled in recompense for my impertinence and disrespect.”

There were some worried tones from the Moonchildren around me, surprisingly close, no more than a dozen feet away, but at her words, they all seemed to accept whatever it was that was going to happen.

“I… do not wish to slay you, but neither do I wish to disrespect you and your people. What does tradition ask that I do?”

“Spill my blood. If I deem it to be insufficient, I will enact a second, worthy wound upon myself, which will claim my life.” As she spoke, Ana remained hunched over but crossed her curved, bladed fifth fingers behind her neck. I had no doubt that she could and, apparently, would decapitate herself if she deemed the blood-price extracted insufficient.

My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do. I couldn’t have her die here–I couldn’t guarantee that I would retain my fahvalo status if she died, and, beside that, I liked her as a person, strange though she was. After a heavy moment’s silence and panicked contemplation, I spoke.

“Your sins were three, thus I give you three cuts: First, your tongue.” Ana extended her tongue at my words. It was longer than a person’s or even a keelish’s, coming out nearly three inches. I extended a claw and quickly sliced the tip of the tongue off. Ana’s blood began to pool on the ground before her as she kept her tongue exposed. The steady dripping of her blood accompanied my words as I continued, “You spoke impertinently and hastily, so I offer the flesh and blood of your offending tongue to the gods.

“The second: your knee.” I slashed three claws across the thin skin of Ana’s left knee and cut the flesh shallowly, but still to the bone just below the surface. Again, the blood began to course out of Ana’s body, and she didn’t make a single sound of protest as the mud under her feet became a bloody slurry. “You forgot that the gods are above you, to stand in the way of their blessing, so I offer the blood of your knee, forever bowed before them.” Ana knelt as I continued.

“Finally: your head.” There were muted words of anger in the forest, and I hoped I knew what I was doing as I ran one, long, sharp claw down the entirety of Ana’s lupine face, from her hairline down to just above her nose at the tip of her snout. This cut was shallow and deliberate, but it immediately began bleeding profusely, the blood shining in weeping rivulets down her face. “Your final sin was undervaluing your own worth to the gods: You are a Bloodpriestess, and your life is of more value than to pay for a simple slight made from ignorance of the actions of a fahvalo. I am one you are meant to learn from, so I invite you to learn, and to continue on your path.”

Ana bowed her head, tongue still extended, and the blood from her face, tongue, and knee mixing together into a thick, irony mud at my feet. After a painfully long but objectively short minute, Ana raised her face and stood before me.

“Thank you, Fahvalo Ashlani Indraymaf. You have helped me on my way.”

I remembered her words from earlier. “I have only done what is honorable. No thanks necessary.”

Ana chuckled lightly. “You speak well. Let us continue our journey.”

With little more incident, ten days later, we found ourselves about to enter the capital of the Wilds: Dunbach.