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Prologue

ㅓᆰSᓅᆵ Seᓅㅓㅓing ᙛᖺ.. the scene

The air crackled with a nervous excitement that only eight-year-olds could muster.

We, two novice initiates, huddled together on the cold stone floor. My head, freshly shaved, felt oddly light, and a few scraggly hairs sprouted where a beard might one day appear.

Beside me sat my friend, our legs crossed in a clumsy attempt at composure.

Across the vast ceremonial hall, a figure shimmered in the flickering firelight. Clad in ivory-white armor adorned with shimmering gold, they held the weight of a gilded god – the leader of the god's agents, we whispered to each other, eyes wide with a mixture of awe and agitation.

The vedic adults around us moved with practiced purpose, tending the growing ceremonial fire in the center of the hall. Its flames cast dancing shadows across the cold stone floor, where we sat huddled together.

Unable to contain our youthful exuberance, we started a game of wordplay, each taking turns to complete the next line of a silly rhyme.

"After bowing to the gilded god," I whispered, "the bald and bearded gets his nod."

"Against the wall sits the unfashionable lord," my friend chimed in, barely containing his giggles.

"He'll smite you down if you speak a word!" a hushed voice hissed from somewhere nearby.

We stifled our laughter, but a shared, silent amusement continued to bubble within us as we observed the head priest, his face flushed with frustration.

ㅓᆰᙛᖺOmin...ᓅᆵᖺ ᓅᙛᓅ..Discovery...The Ominous Silence and the Strange Discovery

"It's eerie how none of our group made it but us," my friend blurted out, oblivious to the tense atmosphere. A sharp reprimand silenced him instantly.

"And what's even weirder," I murmured, leaning towards him, "is that scrawny black thing tied in the center of this great hall."

"Now that you mention it..." my friend began, but a swift blow landed on his head, cutting him short.

ᓅᙛᓅThe DreamlikeᓅᆵᖺPainᆰᙛᖺOand the Mysterious Ritual

A similar blow landed on my head, sending a jolt through me. It was light, yet felt surreal, almost dreamlike.

"Quiet down, that's your second warning," our master's voice boomed.

"Just children being children," a woman beside him spoke softly, a gentle chuckle escaping her lips. Her movements, as she began her pre-ritual preparations, were fluid and graceful. Dressed in simple cotton, her bare feet adorned only with sandals, she seemed more like a wise sage than a temple official.

"Are these... yours?" she inquired, her voice muffled by a veil.

"My brightest students, yes," our master beamed proudly before his expression darkened. "They were," he corrected himself softly.

A knowing silence descended around us. The woman poured a strange, viscous liquid from a battered flask onto the embers. My gaze flicked to it, inexplicably drawn to the two dark orbs suspended within.

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The Interrupted Ceremony and the Glimpses of the Future

Suddenly, the woman's gaze met mine. "They were the best," she began, her voice devoid of emotion, "the best for..." She trailed off.

Just as a tense silence threatened to engulf us again, our master interjected with booming confidence. "The best, indeed! Prodigies, both of them!"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd of onlookers.

"And they will be received for their tolls, as told," his voice declared, as he hugged us tightly.

ㅓᆰᓅᖺAC..CA..Cause and Effect

"That's what I pray for too," the woman whispered, her voice barely a rasp. Her gaze, however, remained fixed on the stunned head priest, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes.

The commotion from the onlookers had momentarily broken his concentration, drawing his gaze in our direction. But the sight that met his eyes seemed to leave him utterly paralyzed.

Ensemble of Chaos

A sudden commotion erupted at the entrance, behind us, shattering the fragile applause and well wishes.

A battered figure, one of the god's agents, stumbled through the doorway, it's armor dented and its face plate demented, streaming black with blood.

The onlookers, abandoning their polite charades, erupted in a flurry of questions and gasps. The sudden commotion shattered the fragile applause and well wishes, sending a wave of disquiet through the hall.

The blackness of the agent's blood, a stark contrast to the crimson they were used to, added a layer of horrifying unease to the scene.

Heightened Tension

In the ensuing chaos, startled by the sudden uproar, my friend lurched forward.

With a yelp of pain, he brushed against a scorching ceremonial spoon left unattended near the fire pit. His agonizing scream sliced through the din.

Primal Fear

Pillars of fire flared to life from several thousand ceremonial pits, bathing the hall in an infernal glow.

Despite the pandemonium, orders barked for the ceremony to begin sent shivers down my spine.

A cold dread, unlike anything I'd ever known, gripped my heart.

Flashes of horrifying visions assaulted my mind – visions of myself, engulfed by flames, my screams lost in the inferno. A chilling whisper echoed in the recesses of my mind, "This time, please... this time, let it be quick."

"This time, please," I muttered under my breath, the weight of the visions pressing down on me, "let this be the last."

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