Once more I dove deep into the bowels of the Wreckage, that labyrinth of stacked and smashed ships that was the underbelly of Ravenport, where the efforts to prepare and repair our home had not yet yielded visible results.
I just wanted to know. I felt shame, sure, knowing that at this very moment a couple of dozen people were praying to me. Let me repeat that: Praying to me.
What did that even mean for me? I was close to being a mortal still, sure I was faster and stronger than I had been, I commanded a few hundred souls, and had a few tricks up my sleeve, but nothing that was outside of the reach of powerful mortals or high-leveled individuals. Most mages would be able to summon far stranger powers to their side.
What was I to do with prayers? How was I to answer them? To fulfill the wishes and swipe away the worries? The sheer weight of expectation that just had been burdened onto me was staggering.
I snuck through the half-light of the chambers below Ravenport, where seldom people came to change the oil in the lanterns. I had somewhat awkwardly asked around and had received equally awkward answers.
In the end, I found them near the kitchen, in a storage hold that had been marked for repairs for its proximity and stability. They had not even tried to hide the coming together. I had not expected that, obviously, as I had just wasted an hour crawling through tight spaces. It was so absurd in my mind that I had somehow expected them to find it equally shameful and worth hiding.
But no, there they were, in a brightly lit storage hold that had seen better days, sitting in a rough circle, eyes closed. Painted on the ground was a stylized raven, the stylized raven I had designed for my own purposes, and in the middle of the group sat Valny, the [Stargazer] I had rescued from the imprisonment of the siren‘s patriarch.
I had not spent much time with the people of Ravenport, to be fair, so I did not know most of their names, but they seemed to be just that. People of Ravenport. A good two dozens of them.
It was a quiet congregation. Valny was not holding a sermon or anything, they just sat there quietly, around the raven on the ground, while every now and again Valny spoke up to correct a breathing pattern or instruct someone on the meditation technique.
It was nowhere near what I had expected. It did neither look like a religious ceremony nor like even a prayer to me. It had an exotic, mystic air about it, sure, two dozen people meditating around my symbol, but as a noble growing up in the religion of the Empire of the Sun, I knew religion to be power, pomp, and excessive ceremony of devotion.
Valny smiled at me.
He still was a frail man, harried by his unnaturally long life in the chains of the sirens, his torture, and the death of all of his crewmates. His skin still was stretched too thin across his bones, his smile was still sad at the edges, but the eyes...the eyes burned bright like the stars in a pitch-black night sky.
“Continue the breathing exercise. Mind the rhythm, I will be right back.“ He said into the silence as he stood up and walked over to me.
I waved him around the corner, out of sight and out of earshot, and received him with arms crossed and an inquisitive gaze.
“What are you doing, Valny?“ I asked. “I just received notification of people praying to me.“
Valny still was smiling. It was a little strange to me. The man had not stopped smiling since we had rescued his broken body from the brink of death. Maybe I was strange for thinking that because suddenly his constant smile sounded very appropriate even as I had the thought.
“I, oh savior of mine, am teaching a group of your people meditation techniques of Fjelgard. Those exercises are good for body and soul, I can assure you. In Fjelgard, even the warrior sects rely on breathing techniques to prepare for battle.“
“Meditation and breathing? Is that what you are doing? Why?“
“Your people have taken me in with open arms, for which I am beyond grateful. After my broken body was on the mend and I found myself with naught to do, I left the sickbed and walked among your people, seeing distress and unrest among them. They felt powerless, oh savior of mine, and I know that feeling all too well. There was a void in their hearts where their gods had been, and with no one to turn to, and no power on their own to ensure their safety, they ate themselves up in worry and lack of agency. I simply made a few suggestions and led their efforts to calm their souls.“
“I don‘t...“I was mumbling. I had not thought about that. I had not thought about my people in earnest for a very long time. I had been chasing adventure while those people had been stuck in the Wreckage seeing their liege and his knights leave again and again, leaving them behind in a castle made out of wooden ships with the light of the fires and lanterns the only protection they had from the Nightmares.
Of course, they would feel powerless. What were they to do in a world that wanted them killed? I always had said that dangerous surroundings made strong men, but those were not here now, were they? These were just people. People who took up arms to defeat their slavers, sure, but who were not suited for braving the wilderness to level themselves.
These were the men and women we fought so hard for to protect. These were the people I wanted to live.
But I had not thought to consider what they were feeling.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“Do not concern yourself too much, my savior. What do you know about Fjelgard, really? We do not pray in Fjelgard. We empower. We do not grovel before the mighty. We stand proud at their sides, supporting them. The weak give what they can to the strong so the strong can protect them. I never understood the practices of the foreigners, sinking to their knees at every opportunity. It is not what this is. This is people learning to give back, to play their part, despite them being bad at swinging a sword.“
“Is that so?“ I mused, thoughts running wild in my brain. It sounded...right. And so different from my expectation of praying and religion. It felt like a bucket of cold water, the realization that religion did not have to be what it had been. I was a product of my upbringing, and even though I had looked behind the curtains of the gods, me being a Twice-Born, I had not thought to question religion. “I...that feels like I could live with it.“ I finally said.
Valny‘s smile grew ever brighter. “Of course you can. And, not to be uncouth, it is not your business anyway. People do what they do, [Stargazers] just offer guidance and encouragement. Let me finish instructing these, my savior, I can tell you of the customs of my people in length afterwards if you so desire.“
I nodded, somewhat light-headed. “Come visit me on the Raven‘s Nest when you can. I think we should have a talk.“
Valny bowed his head, still smiling, and returned to the group, settling down in a relaxed but controlled posture. I left them to it.
I walked straight out into the cold of Shipwreck Bay to clear my head. Religion did not have to be what it had been, with the gods dead and all. What a simple thought, how had it eluded me all this time?
----------------------------------------
The evening proved to be pleasant enough. Of my companions, only Veneir was free to join me for bread and rum, listening to the stories of the frail man from Fjelgard.
“I like the artistry, if I may be so bold.“ Valny said as he came aboard, eyes glinting with meaning as he held my gaze. He was referring to the shrine to the Wanderer and the imagery of the Raven I had put up all around the deck. He knew. He knew that I had been working on the very issue he came here to talk about.
“There is a conundrum I have not been able to solve.“ I sighed in agreement. “There is dire need for a structure in Ravenport that can function as the symbol of my connection to the place. And yet,“ I threw him a look, “the thought of people praying to me in a temple devoted to me had me disgusted, to be honest.“
“We need a temple,“ Veneir interjected, explaining the things I had left unsaid, “because certain Skills can only be anchored to a temple, as it seems. I am sure you are aware that the gods of the Empire of the Sun, our gods that is, have perished prior to the fall of the empire? We, as people, are somewhat...leery where religion is concerned since they have failed us.“
Veneir, and the rest of the Wounded Pride, knew most of my thoughts on most topics. We have a rich history of discussing our problems for hours, after all, and the thing with the temple and the Skills I could use to the benefit of Ravenport were an issue of, let me be grandiose, national interest, so to speak.
“No one thought to mention the demise of your gods, I had thought your people to have cast them away for letting them fall into misery in the first place. It is what my people would have done, proud and cold as they are. That explains the spiritual turmoil and void in the heart of Ravenport, I dare to say.“
“It just feels wrong.“ I sighed. “Religion that is. To replace them all with me, a mortal in all but name. And yet, I am what I am. And the system is what the system is. And the system wants a temple for me to use Skills that benefit my people and Ravenport as a whole. Well, a temple or something like that. And to build a temple I need a religion and someone with faith. Those are the rules of the system.“
“I see.“ Valny put a finger to his chin, thinking about the problem.
“Well,“ I continued, “things are easier than one might assume, more often than not. It is as follows: To create the anchor, I need someone with faith, a place of significance for people to gather, and a ritual to consecrate the space. That is all. And yet, difficult to achieve.“
Valny cocked an eyebrow. “Is it now? Our societies must be more different than I had thought. See, we do not have a pantheon of gods in Fjelgard. We have the Saints, each one protecting a city, clan, or specific region. It is more complicated than that, of course - very complicated in fact. But the truth is, that we have hundreds, nay, thousands of spiritual figures to pray to, or so you would call it.“ He took a sip of the rum. “As I have already told you, we do not pray, we choose to empower. It is a proud thing to do. I have an idea for the ship, though. I was the [Stargazer] on board of the Manticore, after all.“
I shared a look with Veneir and then nodded. The three of us left the cabin, heading for the deck.
Valny strode to the middle of the deck. “Stars be my witness.“ He stated with gravitas. The stars were a sight to see indeed, up here in the cold and clear night in the middle of winter. They shone bright and mysteriously from their throne upon us, illuminating Ravenport with their cool light.
“I am Valny, Stargazer of Ravenport, and I declare Hannibal, called the Raven, to be worthy of my Soul-Sanction.“ He shouted into the night. Then he activated a Skill and the light of the stars came down from the sky, wandering across the aged woods of the Raven‘s Nest. Soon, the constellation of the stars was projected onto the deck.
“May the light of the stars burn any lie out of my heart, for I am speaking truth. Far from the soil of the motherland that birthed us, I declare this ship home instead. May the stars guide its journey without fail.“
Now, he went around, touching the glowing lights upon the deck. “Let the souls lost at sea be tied to the ship. Let the ship be vessel of their death. Let it be sailed upon the sea of stars when it sinks. For the crew and ship are one, and no darkness of the endless ocean will lay a claim on either of them.“
A cold wind began to pick up around us as Veneir and I, quite astonished, watched the needle-thin man make his rounds. The man had a warm, carrying voice that soon had caught our attention. He had been a spiritual leader and obviously was a trained orator.
“I declare Hannibal, called the Raven, to be the Saint of the Raven‘s Nest. I declare him worthy of my Soul-Sanction. I declare him Shepherd of our souls. I declare that I will lead the crew in meditation to empower and Soul-Sanction him for his duties, that he may steer the Raven‘s Nest through danger and turmoil, through storm and dead calm, victory and toward unknown horizons.“
He turned to us as the light faded from the deck, leaving behind just the memory of the heavenly glinting. I thought to still catch it every now and again when I was not really looking for it.
“Well,“ he shrugged with a lopsided smile, “this is what I did to consecrate the Manticore, all those years ago, or something akin to it. It is the way we [Stargazers] protect the souls of our crews on the ocean when they are far away from the motherland and in danger to never find the shores of their home again. Plus a little extra of course, there was no saint on board the Manticore. There are many similarities with the ship and the people far from home ...did it work?“
Judging by the long and barely coherent notifications that Lily was still sending me in a hurry...damned be the forgotten gods and the dead ones, it had worked!