If the smell of food had not coaxed her out of hiding, she likely would have stayed down there long after the sun started coming down.
At the very least, she was not going to be late for the effigy ritual. Amaro and his brothers along with any of the other travelers taking part in the Siren Ceremony. After drawing some blood, having them recite the oath of the Tibur, and plucking a hair from their heads, they would hang up the doll as an offering to the Malaki.
Since Amaro, and more importantly, Sancta was going to be there, Kaara had planned on vanishing for the afternoon and pretending like she had gotten lost hunting a rabbit.
She slapped her cheeks, shoring up her resolve. She did not need to talk to either of them, but without her there to help it would just be Arik helping out. She came upon a circle of adults wherein all the noble children had gathered. Some were missing the tips of their horns, while others seemed to be carefully scanning the area for a potential ambush.
There was no point to being so cautious. Just like dinner, they were not allowed to fight during rituals. Kaara noticed more familiar faces than she initially thought she would. Gornax was standing head and shoulders over the other children. As far as Kaara recalled, he was around Tadios’s age. Stood next to him must have been his companions that he had joined the camp with. Another xio with wings around his height, and two concealing themselves with cloak and hood. They must have been cold.
She waved to Gornax, and he returned it two-fold as usual.
“Kar-Kar!” Arik said, nearly toppling her over with a hug.
“Hello!” She giggled.
“Are you doing alright? I heard about last night from mom.”
Kaara nodded, “I’m alright for now. But- er- could you…”
“Say no more, I’ll deal with the Xirxus for the ritual.”
“Thank you.”
She looked around, “I guess Rorik isn’t coming?”
“I’m right here.” Rorik said behind them, “Sorry I’m a little late. I was practicing something and got distracted.”
“You’re right on time, actually.” Arik said, leaning forward with her arms behind her back, “How are things with you?”
“I’ll live.” He said simply, “Thanks for your concern, though.”
Kaara smiled. Rorik had been growing so fast without her. She noticed a few more Tibur children showing up nearby, led by Tadios, “Looks like everyone came.” She said.
“It would raise more eyebrows if someone did not come.” Rorik said, “I’ll admit, though, it’s weird to be on the other side of this ritual after having gone through it, this year.”
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Kaara nodded, looking over the crowd of adolescent and teenage outsiders. Every year, children of her tribe would partake in this ritual at least a month or two before the nobility and other travelers started showing up.
When everyone had filed in, her father stepped forward. He was donned in a scaled head dress with numerous beads and tokens glittering across its frame.
“Thank you all for being here. We have prepared effigies for your souls to inhabit, so that they may be offered to the Malaki during the Siren Ceremony.”
There was a murmur among the crowd. It seemed not everyone knew the true nature of the Siren Ceremony.
“I understand your concerns, but know that this ritual is one for which many before you have undergone. It has been our tradition since the reign of The First King, Atriux Xirxus. The very same which provided us all the power to fight back against gods, magakos, and malaki alike.”
The promise of power seemed to return the confidence in the crowd members. Kaara knew the steps of the ritual like the back of her hand by now.
“For any who wish to bow out now, know that there is no dishonor in doing so.”
Hardly anyone moved. Their parents were likely watching closely. She wondered what happened to the noble children if they opted out. She rarely saw them return to the Tibur camp.
“For those who remain, I will ask that you put your hand over your heart, and answer my questions with truth and conviction. Respond with ‘I do’ if you accept,” Septis said firmly, pausing to ensure each of them understood.
Kaara had seen this time and time again. The first step of the ritual was for the children to opt into the Siren Ceremony. Anyone aged ten to seventeen could volunteer. Someone older than that would be undergoing an entirely different series of rituals. For Kaara and her fellow tribesmen, it was expected that they either return to civilization or partake in this ceremony by the time they reach thirteen. Of course, there were exceptions, such as Tadios, who were purposely held back from the ritual for one reason or another.
Kaara wondered why their age mattered, and why there was so much pressure for all of them to opt in so early in life. She had heard a few explanations over the years. One being that Malaki were more easily lured by children’s souls. Another was that the ritual itself required a level of vulnerability.
She listened to her father’s questions as she was given a bowl filled with ceremonial paint.
“Firstly, do you understand that your souls will be offered to the Malaki on the night of the Siren Ceremony?”
A resounding ‘I do’ rang from the crowd as Kaara painted runic symbols on her face along with the rest of the Tibur children at her sides. They moved together in practiced synchronization, pausing as they awaited the next question to be answered.
“And do you understand that your safety, survival, and future is not guaranteed nor can it be protected by anyone outside this ritual?”
Another “I do” sounded off as Kaara and the other Tibur children resumed painting the runic symbols on their faces. When they had been the ones answering these questions, it had been the adults painting themselves.
“Do you understand that with the completion of the Siren Ceremony comes the duty to hunt down and exterminate any Malaki you encounter as though you were a Tibur?”
A final “I do” sounded off, as Kaara and the others completed their body paint.
The ritual required the full knowing consent of the volunteer in order to form a contract that could lure Malaki to it. Those who formed the contract could opt out of the Siren Ceremony at any point before the final day. Kaara stood up with her fellow tribesmen as her father continued to speak,
“We will require each of you to offer a single piece of hair, and your blood for the creation of your effigies. Listen to my explanation carefully, and allow those who have painted themselves to collect what they need.”