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Pilgrimage
Chapter 18 (Part 2): Head rolling to the town

Chapter 18 (Part 2): Head rolling to the town

Eithne silently sat on the thick fallen pine to see the lambent dawn. The red sun wearily dragged their body behind the gloomy clouds, just like a tiring worker before their morning coffee.

Serious thinking almost petrified Eithne. She sat still like a stone to organize her thoughts. Her anger subsided after some time, as her head was cooled down by the fresh wind in the morning.

She wasn’t planning to enter the town early. There wasn’t much food fragrance coming from the town, so the town’s restaurants must still be closing. Eithne would come into town when the restaurants were opened, as for now, she would just sit there to enjoy the view. It had been a long time since she could have some tranquility for herself before rolling into another pile of troubles.

“…”

Perhaps Eithne blended in nature too smoothly, a bold blue jay bird landed on the pine log next to her. The bird tilted its head to stare her down with one eye, like a street gangster checking a tramp in its territory.

Eithne raised her eyebrows. The dark domain with corrupt eyes was still running around her feet, so she should remain invisible to naked eyes.

‘Can birds sense my existence? Is it possible because they come close? No, wild birds in the woods shouldn’t be familiar with humans enough to act boldly like this. It probably hasn’t fully seen me yet.’

When the bird came closer to check on her, Eithne noticed a small spark of light under a fern branch nearby. A squeaky voice came out from the spark.

“S-Sky, come back here! Don’t go any further.”

A spirit!

Eithne’s pupils shrank.

‘How am I hearing a spirit’s talking?! Wait what- ‘

The forest spirit hiding under the fern branch cried out loud.

“Sky! Insolent bird, come back here!”

“Feathered brat!”

Obviously, they didn’t worry that any human could hear them. Humans with mana could see spirits, so spirits normally hid when they saw any human. If this spirit still stayed out, it likely hadn’t realized Eithne as a human, but it must have detected her presence. Eithne’s hands trembled, but she sat still and kept her dark domain’s camouflage.

The spirit did not know how important its voice was to Eithne.

It cried for the blue jay bird one more time:

“Oh Mother of Gods! Curiosity will kill the bird! Come back here! There’s a beast in hiding. It will slander you by its wretched toe!”

Eithne mouth’s corner slightly lifted. She must be ‘the beast’ that the spirit called. Sky - the blue jay bird glanced at her warily, then it quickly took off to follow the spirit back into the woods. They had finally left, leaving behind a blueish white bird feather next to Eithne.

Their fateful encounter was fleeting.

Eithne covered her mouth to not shout out loud.

‘I’m not mistaken! Though there’s an accent, it is speaking almost like my praying language to the Order!’

She yelled out in her mind, still worrying that she might startle the spirit if she made noises.

What was happening? The spirit language sounded almost the same as the mysterious castle’s language!

‘Do the spirits originate from the same place with the mysterious castle and the Primordial Serpent? Are they possibly connected? Shit, I have to ask Barty about this.’

It was truly a discovery!

History recorded spirits existed along with Gods. Their exact lifetime was unmeasurable. Among humans, only spirit mages could communicate with spirits through a contract between their souls. The contractors would understand each other’s feelings and intentions, but never on language level. Eithne knew this clearly because the heroine of the comic - Noori Gynren would be the best spirit communicator besides being a Saint of Peace, but even the heroine couldn’t talk in spirit language. It wasn’t a big deal if Noori couldn’t understand the spirit language since she was able to feel the spirits’ emotions.

However, Eithne could verbally understand spirits!

Reminiscently, she thought about the long forgotten corrupted Isny village’ spirit, wondering how the guy had been. When she recalled the gibberish that the Isny’s spirit had told her, the sound’s syllables did make sense now that she knew the strange castle’s language, though Eithne couldn’t remember exactly what it had said.

Eithne tapped her fingers on the pine log, dispersing the dark domain’s camouflage.

“Hm…”

She didn’t know why, but the appearance of the spirit and the bird earlier still bothered her mind. When the initial surprise of discovery faded, Eithne felt something was off.

After a short pause, she urgently activated divination.

“Honor the prestigious Order, let me see my destiny in the vast sea of Fate.”

Eithne spoke in the mysterious castle’s ancient language. With each spoken word, the difference between the castle’s language and the spirit language became more indiscernible to her.

Her consciousness hurdled into the darkness as the Order navigated her to the sea of Fate. Submerged in the arcane expanse, Eithne conjured her nine eyes and cast her gaze upward. Above the sky was a boundless field of red threads swaying, crocheting Fate’s ominous swirling thunderstorms.

Cling… Clang…

Eithne’s consciousness appeared standing on a giant crimson chain. It was the Order’s chain.

Swish!

A fierce wind blew across her, almost sending Eithne off the chain. Coldness brought by the wind gnawed at her like termites digging in the wood, numbing her pain receptors.

Cling… clang…

The chain slowly clanked, seeming too heavy for the wind to shake it. Eithne crouched down to steady herself on it, taking the chance to locate her destiny thread in the sea of Fate.

‘Here’s it!’

Amidst the chaotic entanglement of threads, Eithne found her own destiny thread.

There were two other red threads sweeping past her fate line without clinging on to it. Her nine eyes captured the flashing vision of the blue jay bird and the spirit from those two threads. After a brief contact, they gently flew away from her fate and sank into the radiant red sea, never to be seen again. Eithne glanced at them as quickly as she could, then she bent down to touch her forehead on the crimson chain, prostrating to the Order.

The divination ended.

Eithne returned to reality with a sharp pain in her head. She resisted the crazy urge to chirp like a bird and fly like a spirit. Thankfully, the identity-loss effect was endurable because she had only peeked at those red threads. After ten seconds, she recovered.

“Phew!” - Eithne exhaled heavily.

Nothing suspicious caught her attention. Perhaps she was too sensitive, Eithne had a hunch that the encounter with the spirit before was deliberately arranged. The spirit’s arrival seemed too perfectly timed, and Eithne’s smooth discovery of the spirit language made her question if this event was planned by someone.

In fact, the spirit and the bird might not see her again, since their fate threads didn’t intertwine.

‘Am I overthinking?’

It seemed that her mind had been triggered for nothing.

Since Barty warned Eithne about a possible ally of the Primordial Serpent, she had remained vigilant. Her battle had extended beyond the physical world and reached into mystical realm, so Eithne did not want to disregard any sign. However, overthinking was just as bad as unawareness.

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“Welp. It’s time to enter the town.”

Eithne stood up from the pine log. She brushed her hair backward and put on Barty’s hat. Her mouth opened to release a corrupted eyeball. The floating eye stared back at her, transferring its vision of herself to Eithne’s mind.

‘Looking fine.’

The scars on her face were healing because she was able to stop the corruption from bursting her skin. Eithne smiled. In her shameless complacency, Priestess Eithne Noceur was always handsome even beyond her ‘death’, so putting on a suit further graced her composure as a splendid ‘gentleman’.

The least she wanted was being noticed by the War priests as an outstanding tall woman who looked really like a certainly dead War priestess. The Fox’s body looked like a male version of hers, so Eithne would disguise as a man from now on. Wearing eyeglasses and a fake mustache later wouldn’t be a bad idea, she thought.

The corrupted eye worked well as a 360-degree self-camera. Eithne swallowed the eye back in her mouth. She could feel its energy run to the deepest core of her brain.

Assuring her outfit had no problem, Eithne strode toward Stero town.

‘What’s for breakfast?’ – Is the only goal in her head.

___

Eithne purchased a freshly baked wild berry pie. While munching on the crusty pie, she toured Stero town looking for a place to stay. The pie’s warmth and sweetness surely made her happy, but unfortunately for Eithne, she couldn't find a suitable shelter due to their procedure of asking for identification. Eithne had spent some time observing receptionists at all hotels in town, but all of them needed customers to prove their identity.

Eithne used to think that she could pay a really poor person to stay in their home or find a shady tavern which possibly housed criminals as long as they had money.

‘Devastatingly, this town’s security is too good for a dubious place to exist.’ – She thought.

The Stero town’s locals were kind and happy. They weren’t rich, but neither desperately poor nor greedy to be tricked easily. The streets were clean and tidy. No brothel, no casino, and wine taverns were closed during daytime, sparring the town from unruly drunkards. Moreover, the town guards were patrolling at least ten times a day to prevent monsters, and also to stop random street fights from happening.

‘This place can be safer than the capital.’

Eithne thought, finishing the pie in her hand. Creampuffs were going to be her second breakfast. Stero town must be proud of their delicious pastries, which were just as good as the capital’s products. One extra goodness about this place!

‘Ten over ten would recommend this town for tourists!’

Bing… bong…

Bing… bong…

Bing … bong…

Bells chimed melodically in the air. It was a pleasant rhythm that drew Eithne's gaze toward the town square. There, an elegant shrine stood proudly, its bells tolling to signal the commencement of morning prayers. The warm, yellowish hues of the shrine exuded a sense of comfort akin to a home. Its wooden doors were wide open to invite all the people to come inside. Amidst this scene, a priest garbed in red gently waved a smoldering bouquet of herbs, allowing their fragrant smoke to gracefully waft from the entrance toward the center altar.

“Death temple’s diocese…” – Eithne murmured.

The smell of herbs entered her nose, its sweetness warmly pleased her senses.

Atop the gate of the shrine, a line of black bronze bells hung in straight formation, gently swaying in a synchronized wave-like motion. Among them, the central bell was the largest, adorned with a stone sword crossing its handle. Believers would clasp their hands and bow to the bells in reverence before they passed the gate.

‘The regulation of Stero town must be done by the Death temple.’ - Eithne thought.

This explained the reason behind the locals' remarkable discipline. The stringent doctrines of the Death religion were pivotal in shaping the community's orderly mindset. Eithne heard that the rules in Death temple was equally strict as the War temple. Given the smaller scale of Stero compared to larger cities, the Death temple managed to form a unified community of devout Death believers.

Eithne hesitantly followed the crowd to the Death shrine. She imitated the bowing action of others then headed inside the building. Finding herself an obscure spot behind many people with large coats, she silently listened to the preaching of the Death priests.

“… The omnibenevolent Creator poured the stream of lifeforce down to the earth to create all creatures. By finite might, He shaped the first Gods of this world.

…Through eons of tumultuous strife against the malevolent forces, the Creator sealed the wellsprings of darkness and descended upon the everlasting icy peaks of Azure. The first Gods transformed into the Sun, the Moon, the Stars to protect their children from the ravage of the Devils, guiding humanity from the primordial ignorance.

Yet, darkness rekindled, threatening the very existence of mortals. To save the wretched humans, the Father of all Divinity reincarnated as the Sovereign of holy Gare, raised his divine sword to repel the infernal Devils back to hell. Assisted by the celestial triumvirate - Sun, Moon, Stars and the Queen of Spirits, the King of Gare had confined the darkness to the abyssal hell. As He traversed the bridge of Death, the King of Gare ascended to the throne of Netherworld, shepherding departed souls to their destined next life. Thus, He became known as the God of Death.”

Among the listeners, Eithne was even more attentive than some others. Perhaps because it was her first-time hearing all of this, her curiosity was intrigued by the Death priest’s perfect pace of storytelling.

The War temple also recorded a part of history in their sacred texts, but their view mostly focused on the War God. From what priestess Eithne Noceur knew, the Death religion was oldest, then later, Peace and War religion appeared at the same time to oppose each other’s presence. The War temple recorded the birth of the War God occurred amidst the most devastating war between the immortal deities, which was much later than the period when the Death God was still active. As for the Peace Goddess, Eithne wasn’t sure.

The Death priest continued.

“Death was the end, but also the beginning. It was time to let go of all of your sorrow and head to the next life. If your soul is consumed by hatred even after death, your eyes will be covered by sins and you can’t see the guide light toward the passage of next life as a human. Your soul will fall into the pool of cold blood, becoming one of the starving devils or turning into unfortunate animals in your next life. Those who have committed grave sins won’t be forgiven in hell, and they would reincarnate perpetual lives as damned and sorrowful monsters on earth.

Monsters are forever starving, cold, hurtful, and hunted. They can’t feel love, warmth and are stuck in ignorance.

Ignorance will tempt us to commit sins. Therefore, we need to take the chance as humans to practice kindness and eliminate foolishness within us, so that we won’t be surrounded by sadness and anger at the end of our lives.

The teaching of Death God will enlighten us. You shall follow:

We - as His children - must accumulate good karma for our lives. Good karma is granted when we help another creature, be it human or animal….”

Eithne stared at the Death priest. They taught about karma, the same karma knowledge that the Fox told her! Could this be evidence of the mysterious castle, the Order and the Fox’s existence in this world’s history?

The Death priest was delivering his sermon with fervor. His words effortlessly etched wisdom into the minds of the listeners. While Eithne stayed in the Death temple’s area, a latent anger deep in her soul slowly dissipating. The weight of her stress gradually lifted, and her frustration began to melt away.

‘Just like returning to the Void. How amazing… I feel like I can rest in peace now, die without regret.’

Eithne was experiencing emotion purification similar to the Void’s profound cleansing that had occured after she received the visions from Barty. It was uncertain whether the priest was using some sort of mind-calming magic in his voice, Eithne unconsciously followed the Death priest’s guide to pray along with others:

“May all the sentient beings be strong and happy. May all of His children be free from suffering and wickedness. We pray for His empathy to guide us toward the light of reincarnation!”

“Hasu kimide Gare!”

When they shouted out the last statement, Eithne flinched since she could not repeat after them.

“What Hasu…” – She confusedly mumbled.

A believer next to her kindly repeated:

“It Hasu ki-mi-de Ga-re.”

“Thank you.”

Eithne nodded at them, then repeated the term multiple times to remember.

‘Shit, what if the Order will be mad at me for worshipping another God?’

She suddenly remembered that she was always under the Order’s supervision, so she immediately confessed in her mind to the mighty existence.

‘Please forgive my tottering devotion .’

Eithne sensed no reaction from the Order. Fantastic! She would be very afraid if a God actually reacted to her wrongdoing. Eithne still had vivid impression of the day she tried to test for any sign from the War God when she was still in the temple. The thought of raising her middle finger to His statue had just crossed Eithne’s mind, but the sudden feeling of iciness on her back crumbled all her bravery. Who would know if a wrathful God might send a thunderbolt to erase her in that very moment?

Even though Eithne was scared, she still had audacity to test God’s boundary sometimes. After all stressful shits, she only wanted to be an atheist.

Well, if the Order had no objection, she would continue to venture into this Death shrine.

After the morning prayer, people started to leave for their work.

‘Interesting place.’

Eithne’s hands touched all the walls, the pillars, and religious objects that she was allowed to touch. Like a kid for the first time in a playground, she curiously toured around the shrine, admiring the warm-colored murals that retold the myths about the God of Death. When she was observing the gorgeous image of the Spirit Queen, Eithne noticed other people were burning incense in front of the main altar.

Many people were offering incense and candles on a large table, which had sweet and relaxing fragrant.

Eithne approached them. She finally had a chance to see the altar and the statue depicting the underworld’s ruler.

At the heart of the space stood a five-foot-tall ebony statue. Though the craftsmanship was rough, Eithne could discern the figure of the Death God which was a crowned man seated atop a regal lion. Wisps of white smoke encircled His statue like lingering dead souls, whereas the illuminating butter lamps bathed the deity in its golden warm glow and comforting aroma. His countenance bore a benevolent expression, mirrored by his lion companion who was reclining in serenity. Crossing His leg like a meditative hermit, the God of Death kept a long sword by His side and held a bronze bell in His palm. Far different from the intimidating, majestic War God and the stunningly beautiful Peace Goddess, the Death God bore an exalted composure of a very ancient being. Simultaneously, He radiated compassion and generosity of a fatherly figure, dispelling fear and effortlessly earning respect with every glance.

Eithne studied the statue for a few minutes, then she stepped forward to offer incense and candles like everyone else. Unexpectedly, her pretense to be a Death believer had been exposed by a Death priest at the moment she ignited the incense.