The evening came both faster and slower than Ilyash had expected. He’d spent more time with Laura after the morning’s chores, but neither one of them wanted to continue talking about what would happen that evening, or tomorrow. She’d be leaving soon and he…he still didn’t know what he was going to do. On the one hand, he’d dreamt of going to the academy in Typhiria ever since he saw the wizard when he was little. On the other hand, he didn’t want to leave home. This was all he’d ever known.
He also still hadn’t dealt with the voices. They’d interrupted a few more times throughout the day, but he’d learned to ignore them unless they truly managed to startle him. It was always the same ones, or so he thought - he’d recognized a dozen or so different voices over the past few months, but they only ever spoke a few words to him. Vengeance this, and murder that…it’s funny how even something so dark could get repetitive.
Laura had left him a little while ago to get prepared for the evening’s ritual, so Ilyash was sitting by himself, now bundled up in a warm winter jacket as dusk set.
After the day’s chores, the pair had retreated to their favorite hillock near the road east of the village. Over the years, the pair - and the last of their trio, Benjamin - had used the spot as a sort of retreat away from the village where they could hide from the adults, play games, and relax, while keeping a careful eye on the road leading to Typhiria, just in case they got to see something interesting.
A series of trees topped the hill and the friends had long since hung up hammocks between the trunks to allow for afternoon naps. From the heights of one of the trees, a rope ladder fluttered in the wind, waiting for someone to climb up and perch in the branches, boards tied together to allow for easier sitting positions and observation posts.
In the distance, Ilyash heard wolves howling the start of the evening’s hunt, no doubt having found a herd of reindeer in the midst of their migration. The sun was setting behind him as the young man continued to stare blankly towards the eastern horizon, his gaze uninterrupted by the barren wasteland as his village’s hills turned into a flat plain as far as the eye could see.
“Hey…are you there?” He inquired into the empty air, not really expecting a reply after his hundredth attempt to communicate with the voices in the months since they’d first started speaking to him.
Silence answered him.
“Don’t know why I expected anything different tonight.” Ilyash muttered to himself.
“Who’re you talking to, boy?” a voice unexpectedly responded, causing Ilyash to jerk.
“Wha- who’s there?” The young man looked around, trying to figure out if he could see the spirit that had answered his call.
“You have eyes boy, but you don’t use them much do ya?” the voice spoke again, coming closer now.
Frantically, Ilyash jumped to his feet, turning every which way to try and find the speaker. “Are you…a ghost?” he half whispered, half shouted, his voice uneven.
“Don’t be a fool boy, the spirits can’t hear you. And you’re too blind to see them.” The voice replied, now appearing to come from right beside him.
“But I can hear them…” Ilyash whispered to himself, before finding the courage to speak up louder towards the voice. “Who are you, show yourself?!”
“Calm down boy, it’s just old Zofia.” the hunched old woman replied, his eyes finally focusing on her figure standing no more than a foot away.
“Wh- where did you come from? You weren’t there a moment ago.” The young man backed away slightly, terror apparent on his face.
“I said calm down, just because you don’t look doesn’t mean old Zofia wasn’t here.” the woman replied, smiling up at him from beneath the dark she wore.
Calming slightly, Ilyash tried to make out more features of the woman before him. He’d met Zofia before, of course - everyone had. Noone knew where she lived, but everyone had met her at one time or another. Taller than Ilyash by over a foot, a cowl covered much of the woman’s face in shadow, but he could still make out a rather long, broken looking nose. Straight, uneven hair peeked out from underneath the hood reminding him of hay. He was unable to make out much of the rest of her figure, hidden as it was underneath the folds of her robes, with merely a single arm evident as it supported her frame with the aid of a cane, a twisted and gnarled thing, seemingly just the branch of an ancient, broken tree, picked up to serve as a crutch.
Blinking a few times, Ilyash refocused his gaze on the woman, though his mind whispered that he’d missed something about her cane and his eyes kept wanting to drift back towards it.
“I’m sorry, I…” he trailed off, unwilling to admit that he’d been so distracted by her appearance that he’d missed whatever she’d been saying.
“Pay attention boy, you’ve that look about you. Is it tonight?” Zofia asked him cryptically, her hooded face looking down at him, but Ilyash was still unable to make out any features besides her nose from within its shadows.
“Is…what tonight?” Ilyash asked, confused.
“The ritual. Are you joining me tonight?” the crone replied before revealing oddly sharp-looking teeth in what he assumed was a smile.
“Joining you? I don’t know what you’re talking about. The Age ritual is tonight, just a few of us this year. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there.” the young man replied, trying to ignore her smile.
The old woman nodded at his words and began walking in the direction of the village without saying another word to Ilyash, leaving him to stare at her receding back, trying to understand what had happened.
“Crazy old woman…” Ilyash muttered to himself under his breath, watching her walk away.
The woman’s cane came down on the ground a little bit harder with her next shambling step, giving the young man a moment’s pause. No…she couldn’t have.
Attempting to dismiss the woman from his thoughts, Ilyash returned to his contemplation. He didn’t think he was ready to leave the village, for all that Laura seemed set on going off on her adventure - she’d always been the most adventurous one of their group of friends; going out hunting, practicing her knife and bow skills with the hunters…Ilyash just existed. He always told himself that if he had the opportunity, he’d train and become the greatest mage the world had ever seen but…the opportunity had never appeared, and so he just existed. Doing his chores. Helping his parents. Minding his two younger sisters. Living. That wasn’t bad, was it?
In the distance, Ilyash heard the sound of drums beating out the call for the Age festival, bringing him back out of his reverie. So, it was time.
Sighing, Ilyash got to his feet and began to trod down the hill, towards the village. He’d been excited for this day for so many years, but now that it was here…he wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what to do.
Rejoining the main road, the young man walked towards the village as the pathway wove its way through the hills. Rounding a bend in the road, Ilyash continued to put one foot in front of the other in time with the beat of the distant drums, even as he began to make out the flickering shadows created by the celebration’s fires. As he walked, he was joined by other villagers, also making their way towards the square as they finished up their own daily activities.
Approaching his home, and the central square of the village, Ilyash saw that the benches there were already half filled with people. Children and adults all buzzing with excitement and anticipation of the evening’s festivities, the smell of roasting meat permeating the air from the dozens of fires in the picnic area. Tables already filled to the bursting with food, Ilyash could almost imagine their creaking from the sheer cornucopia that was present there. Carafes of water, mead, and stronger drinks were in abundance, everything prepared for a night of excitement.
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First to spot him was his mother, giving Ilyash a reproving look and beckoning for him to join her.
“Ilyash, you’re late. Go get changed, Tod sent over a new shirt!” Elly mock glared at him, hurrying him along. At her side, Ilyash could see his father’s smile, while his sisters, Dora and Rosa, mimicked his mother’s glare.
“I’m going, I’m going.” Ilyash replied even as he dragged his feet as much as possible in returning to the house, dread rising as his nerves grew.
Despite his efforts at procrastination, Ilyash couldn’t delay getting changed for long, knowing that the ritual would probably be getting set up before too long. Making his way back to the house, he spotted Laura and Benjamin standing in front of the round door leading home.
His two best friends made for an odd pair, Benjamin towering heads and shoulders above Laura even as he slouched to try and appear shorter. Powerfully built, Benjamin had broad shoulders and muscular limbs from his work in his father’s machine shop. Completing his appearance, the young man was draped in oversized clothes which did little to hide his build but removed some of the intimidation factor that people would have otherwise felt at his presence.
Ilyash knew that while Benjamin did everything he could to appear smaller, the clothes were mostly that size because his parents didn’t know when he’d stop growing. The young man had sprung up faster than a tomato plant in summer over the past few years and so far hadn’t stopped growing out of his clothes almost as fast as he received them.
By his side, Laura appeared diminutive, though Ilyash couldn’t help but notice that she’d also grown and filled out over the last year, even if her growth was negligible next to their giant friend. Like Ilyash himself, the young woman seemed to have changed into some new clothing for the festival, though in her case she appeared to be wearing some sort of leather and hide armor that he’d never seen before, while a pair of familiar moccasins adorned her feet - his mother’s work, he knew.
“Hey Benjamin.” He greeted his friend, not having seen him earlier in the day, before turning to Laura and asking, “What’re you wearing?”
“Armor.” She answered, failing to elaborate beyond that.
“Oookay.” He thought to himself, but elected not to say anything out loud.
“Hey Ilyash.” Benjamin’s deep voice greeted him.
“What’s up man?” Ilyash nodded to his friend as he joined the pair at the door. “Ready for this?”
“I guess?” the larger boy answered, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly before gazing at Laura.
“You’re quiet today, doing okay?” Benjamin asked the young woman, a slight crease of worry on his forehead.
“Fine.” Laura answered tersely before seeming to shake herself and look up. “I’m ready! I’ll be a great adventurer. I’m just…nervous.”
Benjamin nodded knowingly before speaking. “Still leaving tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?!” Ilyash jumped in surprise. “You said with the next caravan!”
“Yea…next caravan, tomorrow.” Laura replied, looking away from him and staring towards the fire.
Speechless, Ilyash stood with his mouth open for a moment, his mind whirling. He wasn’t ready for this! He knew she was planning to leave, she said as much but…this was too soon!
“I..uh, need to go get changed.” Ilyash said as he opened the door and went inside the house to catch his breath, needing to clear his head after the latest revelation. Once indoors, the young man paused for a long moment before looking around the kitchen and spotting a new set of trousers and a woolen shirt hung up for him on one of the stools in front of the hearth.
Grabbing both, he made his way into his room and began discarding his clothing, much of it joining the piles already existing on the dirt floor, before donning his new clothes and bundling up in his winter coat once again. Ready, Ilyash grabbed a cup of water to delay the inevitable as much as slake his thirst and proceeded to sip at it for the next few minutes.
Loud knocking at the door forced him to finally set the cup down and walk outside, Benjamin and Laura glaring at him for forcing them to wait.
“What was the point of changing if you just bundled yourself up again?” Laura asked, her voice testy.
“Mom told me to.” Ilyash shrugged, unwilling to engage. “Shall we go join the group?”
Without another word the trio started to weave their way through the crowd of people gathered in the square towards a smaller gathering standing just a short distance away from the fire. Familiar faces greeted them as their peers waved the trio on, nervous expressions on every face.
“Ahem.” A voice interrupted the gathering, an older woman approaching their group, her gaze encompassing both the trio and the other young men and women gathered around them. Powerfully built despite her advancing age, the woman was dressed in well-worn hide armor made of some leathery creatures that Ilyash had never been able to identify, nor had she ever replied to his queries about where she’d gotten them.
“It’s just about time.” Old Maise told them, her piercing gaze making sure that everyone was paying attention. “You all know the drill, but let’s make sure in case some people haven’t paid attention the last seventeen times they saw this.”
The woman’s gaze paused on a group of youths near the back of the group before she resumed speaking.
“This is the most important ritual of our people, so don’t fuck it up. Come up one at a time, we’ll draw some blood, you’ll toss it into the fire, see the ancestor’s reply, and then join your families - got it?” The woman’s brusque manner typical for her, avoiding any of the pomp and ceremony that the other Elders usually spoke with.
A series of nods greeted her, though no one spoke as everyone was too nervous to say anything. Maise stared at them for a moment longer before nodding and walking off in the direction of the large fire. Now left alone, the group stood in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the event to begin.
While Ilyash had been getting dressed, the rest of the square had completely filled up. Hundreds of people were standing, sitting, or walking about with food and drinks. The noise level continued to rise as friends connected and alcohol was imbibed in liberal quantities. Ilyash watched as a couple of the hunters went to remove a hog from a spit, deeming the cook complete and carrying it over to an empty table to begin carving up the meat into portions, quickly gathering a growing crowd eager to get a piece of the roast.
Many of the young men and women shifted in their positions, regretful that they weren’t able to walk over and grab some food of their own yet but…tradition was tradition.
“Stupid tradition.” Benjamin rumbled behind Ilyash, his gaze fixed on the quickly disappearing boar. “Just because we’re doing this ritual doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be able to eat until later. I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry, big guy.” Laura joked with Benjamin, but her own gaze was also intently fixed on the meat.
“You’re both gluttons. But also, I missed lunch. Ugh.” Ilyash grumped, his own stomach rumbling to remind him of his mistake.
“How much longer until we can get some food? They’ll finish it all before we get to eat!” Benjamin growled under his breath.
“You know not tonight. We’re with the spirits tonight.” A quiet voice came from behind the trio, prompting all of them to turn and look at the young woman standing behind them. Taller than either Ilyash or Laura, but still feet shorter than Benjamin, the girl had shoulder-length brown hair and big, blue eyes. She had a round face and a slightly curved figure, with full cheeks and a tentative smile on her face.
“Hey Liz, you know we’re just complaining for the fun of it. It’s tradition, I think anyway - first time I’m on this side of it.” Ilyash nodded to the girl, welcoming her into their circle. “Another half hour before everyone’s settled down enough for this to start, I think.”
The newcomer nodded in agreement before turning to gaze at the gathering and speaking, “What do you think is going to happen?”
“I’ll be a great adventurer, Benjamin will work in the machine shop, Ilyash will…make moccasins? And you’ll be a priestess.” Laura replied cheerfully prompting noises of complaint from her friends at her description of their futures.
“Priestess…yes I agree. I will be a priestess of Zoryn.” Liz replied, nodding her head slowly.
“Ha. Ha. Yes…funny…” Laura trailed off, uncomfortable at the mention of the blood god, lapsing into awkward silence.
Ignoring the attempted dismissal of the idea, the other woman continued speaking, “I’ve heard His call in my dreams lately, maybe I will be able to aid in the Awakening.”
Concerned, Ilyash voiced what the other two friends were thinking, “You’re not serious, are you? You’ve not been seeing visions from the End?”
Liz turned her steady gaze towards him, her face devoid of mirth, “The End comes for us all, Ilyash.”
With those words, the young woman nodded to them and left the group to join another grouping of teens a few feet away.
Laura was the first to break the silence, “Well, that was creepy.”
“Yes, although…” Benjamin sounded contemplative in his response.
“Although what?” Ilyash prompted.
“I’ve been having dreams as well.” Was the response he gave, causing both Ilyash and Laura to stare at their friend.
“And you’re only now mentioning it? What dreams? Are you joining Zoryn too?” Laura demanded, staring up at their friend, her hood sliding backwards on her head slightly as she glared at the larger man forcing her to adjust it.
“Fire. I saw fire. I don’t know what it means.” The large man replied, shifting uncomfortably.
“Fire, blood, spirits…sounds like this is going to be one heck of a party.” Ilyash grumbled, earning an inquisitive look from his larger friend, and a knowing, yet concerned one, from Laura.