Lying on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room other than a small trunk and bedside table with a missing leg, was a younger female monkey person. Her face was smooth, missing the wrinkles lining the face of the [Priest], and her fur was a dark brown with streaks of gold interspersed throughout. Her hair may have been lustrous at one point, but now it was matted to her body as she lay on the bed sweating. Covering her was a thick blanket and the room was filled with a powerful incense. Lucas didn’t know what was wrong with her, but it was obvious she was sick.
He couldn’t see his host’s face, but the look of chagrin that came upon the young [Hunter]’s face after glancing at the [Druid] was enough to tell that he clearly disapproved of the steps taken so far to heal the young woman.
With a brief delay as the [Priest] fiddled with the incense in the burner and placed the palm of the hand to the female’s forehead, the [Priest] began to set up for the sacrifice to Lethe. Lucas didn’t know who Lethe was, but he was starting to sense a pattern in his dreams of the gods not liking his hosts.
Lucas took a moment to try to lock the vision of the ritual in his head once it was set up. In the center of the room, which was near the foot of the bed, sat a small altar to Lethe. On the altar the rodent was laid out with its limbs tied still. It had not awoken yet, but Lucas could see the rapid rise and fall of its chest. The small animal was breathing almost as fast as the female in the bed.
Gunta, the [Priest], began to chant in a second language that Lucas had never heard before. The [Druid] must have been fluent though because Lucas could understand the meaning behind the harsh syllables.
“Oh great goddess, your servant calls upon your might. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel.” After this initial phrase the [Priest] lit candles at each edge of the altar. The cloying smell of the candles quickly mixed with the incense to create an almost overpowering odor.
“To you we sacrifice. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel,” She continued, ending with the same ritualistic phrase before driving the dagger in her hand deep into the rodent’s breast.
“To you we submit. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel,” With another verse complete, the [Priest] pulled the dagger from the rodent and slashed her own palm. She then stepped to the head of the bed and slashed the palm of the young female, which elicited no response from the comatose woman.
“Pull from this youngling the source of her weakness. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel,” She canted again. This time the dagger went into the flames, adding the stench of burnt blood to the already overwhelming miasma in the room.
“Cast it out, great goddess, so she may be whole again. Flesh is the channel by which your power flows, spirit is the fuel by which you force your will upon the world!” She finished with a yell. The candles flared and went out, an expected response judging by the smile covering the older [Priest]’s face, revealing sharp canines and a look of triumph as she glared at Lucas’ host.
Lucas, through his host’s powerful senses, felt as if the very air was growing heavier. Suddenly, the rodent on the altar disintegrated into ash. There was no flame or heat, just a sudden crumbling of what moments before had been flesh and blood.
“Lethe has accepted the offering. Bez’trice will be healed, and your presence is no longer required.”
“That is possible, I shall wait here quietly still and see this through to the end. That was a powerful ritual you just enacted and almost all of the power is consumed by the sacrifice. Tell me, Gunta, how much experience do you think that rodent is worth?” asked the [Druid]
“What does it matter, heretic? Lethe accepted the offering,” replied Gunta.
“Yes, but what happens if the offering is not powerful enough?”
A brief moment of doubt flickered across the face of the [Priest] before she replied. “Then the two channels will give of their spirit to offset the cost. I have much mana and a powerful spirit. Should it come to it, the goddess may take a level or two, but it should not be necessary.”
Lucas’ host nodded his head. “You may be right,” he replied. “but I doubt I would have been CALLED had this been a matter that could be solved by sacrificing a level fifteen rodent.”
Gunta didn’t respond, she simply sneered at the [Druid] and turned to look at the female lying in the bed. After a few moments the feeling of heaviness in the room was clearly starting to have an effect on the [Hunter]. His face became tense and his teeth were clenched. Both hands were balled into fists and his prehensile tale was wrapped tightly around his waist where before it followed along behind him drifting side to side.
A few more moments passed and Lucas could tell that something was not going well. Gunta’s face was drawn into a grimace. He felt his host activate a skill and suddenly the world exploded around him as the very air seemed to be made up of colorful motes of power. Some sat, barely moving, but most of the motes were moving in channels, like small rivers, through the air and towards the altar. Coming from Gunta was a dark red stream, matched in color by a stream that was pouring out from the female on the bed. Slowly the stream coming from Gunta became narrower and narrower until it was almost non-existent. After a few moments the stream of red coming from Bez’trice trickled down to nothing. With a shift, the red stream flowing to the altar came from the female’s navel rather than the chest as it had previously for both Gunta and Bez’trice.
“You hypocrite. You would sacrifice the child to save the mother rather than lose a few levels?” The [Druid] asked with his voice dripping with contempt.
“Twenty levels!” she replied back. “That would set me back two decades. I would never have the chance to rank up before I die. She can make another child, it is sad but necessary.”
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“Step away, [Priest]. I shall do as I was called.”
“NO! Do not interfere with the ritual. If Lethe does not get the sacrifice she was promised, there will be a backlash.” The [Priest] responded with panic.
“Then you should have prepared better,” replied the [Druid]. The contempt was still there, but it was tinged with sadness. “The child may still be damaged irreparably by your lack of conviction.”
His host stepped forward and reached to place the palm of his left hand over the females belly. Just as he was about to make contact, a bolt of energy slammed into his back. Lucas felt the gathering energy before it was released so he was certain his host had been prepared for it. He didn’t sense any pain from the [Druid]. His host turned and as the [Priest] prepared to unleash another attack on him, the floor under her split. A branch from the tree the house was built on slammed into the [Priest]s belly and carried her to the far wall. She struck with a loud thwack and almost immediately vomited on the floor.
From the first leg sized branch many smaller branches sprouted and wrapped the [Priest] tightly in a cocoon of wood and leaves. Lucas doubted that the [Priest] would be able to breathe freely, let alone cast offensive magic.
His host turned and placed his hand against the belly of the pregnant female. Lucas could feel the heat radiating off of the febrile mother-to-be. With an effort of will, the [Druid] began to pour energy into the female’s belly. He could see the deep green energy begin to form a ball and the transfer of energy to the altar eventually stopped. Another mental tug and another skill was activated. Lucas attempted to focus on how the skill was working, but it was far too complex for him. He instead focused on how the mana moved outside of the [Druid]. His book spoke of external mana manipulation as the foundation for all external magic. The mana seemed to travel from deep in the belly of the [Druid] and out of his hand. As it reached his palm, the stream of mana made a specific pattern, almost like a corkscrew, and narrowed down to become far denser.
Lucas committed the shape of the mana to memory and waited for whatever was going to happen. The second skill seemed to create a small suction effect as mana was drawn from the air. Each of the many currents in the room slowly began to shift from the altar to the woman and her unborn child. Most of the mana was green and blue and white. There were occasional flecks of other colors, but they made up an incredibly small amount of the total.
Shortly after all of the mana streams in the air shifted to the female and child, Lucas began to feel the pressure in the room increase through his host’s skin. The pressure grew, but the [Druid] did nothing. With sweat beading his forehead, the [Hunter] was glancing around with obvious anxiety. He was gripping the dagger on his belt so hard that Lucas was worried that it he would hurt himself.
After a few moments of no mana flowing to the alter, Lucas heard a muffled scream from within the wooden cocoon. Within a few moments, a new thick red stream of mana tore from the cocoon and headed towards the altar. The [Druid] did not seem surprised by this development. Instead the mana feeding to the female and child slowly trickled to a halt. The makeshift altar sitting atop the three legged table soon seemed to reach a critical point and the small effigy of Lethe burst into flames, releasing acrid smoke into the room as the mana trickled and then stopped coming from the [Priest]
With a gesture and release of mana too quick for Lucas to even attempt to follow, a swift breeze started at one end of the room and pushed the smoke out of the windows as the tree seemed to reach down and pull the shutters open from the outside. With it, the gust of air took the various cloying smells created by the incense that had been burning in the room previously.
The [Druid] Turned to the hunter and spoke with his soft, baritone voice, “I believe that I intervened in time to save your child from any truly permanent damage. That doesn’t mean that he will have an easy life. He will likely level slower than others. He will probably be weaker physically than others his age. To offset this, he will also likely have more affinity to life mana and spirit mana as well as be able to sense and work mana at an earlier age and with less difficulty than his peers. The mother will simply have to regain her levels. This might actually be a boon to her as she may have class opportunities that she thought locked to her.”
“My son?” replied the [Hunter]. “I knew it was possible. The Hima ritual night causes the women of child bearing age to take many lovers, but I wouldn’t have known for sure until the child was born. Thank you, [Druid], for all that you have done. My debt to you is beyond measure. If at any time you need a member of this tribe for to lay down his life for you, call upon Alt’ark. I will come, no matter the time or place, this I do swear by my life and mana.”
There was a brilliant flash, and the oath settled on the [Hunter] and [Druid]. Lucas was so surprised that he was only able to catch a small portion of how it settled in a place near, but not the same as, his host’s mana.
“That was a powerful oath, Alt’ark. Worry not, I do not plan to call upon you to fulfill it. I consider there to be no debt between us,” the [Druid] paused for a minute then with another quick tug of his mana, the door to the main room shot open to reveal the four elders monkey men standing and clearly listening in to the conversation.
“I say this to all of your people, Alt’ark. Trust not the sweet promises of these new gods with their powerful classes and miracles. They will fulfill the bargain in word only, but almost never in spirit. They do not care for the welfare of your people or your culture, as you have seen today. They care only for power,” the [Druid] paused for a minute to stare each of the elders in the eye before continuing. “The Jungle Spirit may have been slow to act and rarely performed miracles, but it always worked to the best interests of your people and the jungle.”
“Tell us what to do, Green Walker,” said Alt’ark.
“Destroy all of the fetishes and altars to this Lethe. Perform the rituals of cleansing that your grandsires taught you. Do not follow blindly any priest of a young god,” said the [Druid]. “Alt’ark, you lead these people in the hunt, and your voice is a powerful one in the village. I believe that you will do what is best for your people.”
“I will, [Druid]. Thank you. What should we do with the [Priest]”
“You may call me Luke. Worry not about the [Priest]. That ritual likely withdrew most of her levels. I will be taking her from here and will handle her myself,” as he said the latter part, the great pressure in the room seemed to return to the four elders and the [Hunter]. This time it seemed to emanate from Luke directly.
“As you wish, Green…I mean Luke. Again, thank you,” said Alt’ark.
“I must return now. If I am needed again, I am sure the Jungle Spirit will call for me. I may return to visit the mother and child and make sure they are recovering well,” with that final statement, the [Druid] began to walk from the small tree house. The elders did not attempt to bar his way. Behind him, the wooden cocoon tumbled over and vines shout out from the front that pulled it across the floor like a swarm of tame snakes. The [Druid] did not appear concerned about the safety of the cocoon’s occupant because the vines simply pulled the cocoon from the porch and allowed it to drop the four meters to the ground. Again, the druid began to walk through the jungle as if it was his own personal highway. Behind him came the cocoon containing the pitiful [Priest].
As the dream began to fade Lucas was glad that he learned so much about other magic with this dream. He was doubly glad that he didn’t have to watch what that [Druid] was going to do to that [Priest].