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Tur Briste
186 - Necropolis

186 - Necropolis

A simple act of kindness is never trivial.

~Mother Danu, The Primordial Goddess of Nature

Mausoleums lined the walkways like a row of houses for the interred. Alongside, those were sets of stairs leading into darkness, as if ancient cellars, but were, in fact, crypts. Tombstones and monuments lined the ‘backyard’ of the mausoleums, which could be mistaken as a fence. Everything in the necropolis was crafted from old, crumbling stone. The stone was covered in moss, fungus, and random plants that would only grow mana heavily influenced by ghosts, death, or spirits.

All paths led to the central temple, which was a three-sided pyramid. Each corner had a three-sided pillar with a ghostly blue flame burning atop it. Those flames fed the fire bowl at the top of the pyramid.

Kafele tried to enter the temple many times over the last month but to no avail. Each side had a doorway leading into a dark tunnel, but those eternal flames formed a barrier. Nothing he did could push through it, and he was positive he could not brute force his way past it. However, he noticed that ghosts, souls, and spirits could pass through only to be cleansed by the flames. It was like they were moths, and nothing they could do would course-correct their path.

One thing he was confident of, the temple was his way out. He’d long explored the surface level of the necropolis and found that it was an island. The waters surrounding it would dissolve most materials.

There were times he could see the outline of a boat out on the water. However, none of those boats came close enough to the necropolis for him to confirm.

Kafele hadn’t slept much in all this time. At first, it was the howling sound that came from the wind. Or so he made himself believe. He tried hard to convince himself it was just wind creating noises as it went through the various structures. Sometimes it sounded like a soft moan, and others, it was a high keening wail. Always, it made the hair on his arms stand on end.

Ghosts and the dead had never bothered him all that much. As a Hex Vodun, it was an occupational hazard, but that did not mean he underestimated those things. This necropolis was different from what he expected, and he could only blame his hubris for entering here. Since the entrance was on the first floor, he didn’t believe he wouldn’t find a way to return.

His own ghosts haunted him here. It was inexplicable that the people he’d killed, especially in cold blood, were deeply connected to him through karmic links that wouldn’t dissolve even after death. A necropolis such as this would definitely have a thin barrier between it and the underworld and the Spirit Realm. Daily, his ghosts would haunt him. Scenes of his past deeds would haunt him.

Ever since Crow had saved his life, his fate had already been altered. He’d lost his single-minded devotion toward the Hex Vodun, and he’d been straying from the radical ideals of his people. If Crow was the crack in his armor, Nadia was the blow that shattered it. What he’d done to her kept replaying in his head. Kafe could rationalize his behavior as self-defense since she tried to kill him first, but he knew she wasn’t aware of her actions. Even if those around her were.

Now that he commanded her to share Crow’s bed, he was most tormented about this decision.

His sins had nearly driven him to the brink of madness, and it was worse when he slept. Now, he explored the place absent-mindedly, as if he was already a ghost. Crypts and mausoleums were explored equally, but other than the mute ghosts that randomly showed themselves, he couldn’t find any clues on how to escape.

Vodun had been here in the past because they left their own markings behind. Various chalk markings from rituals could be found, but those were usually the blood rituals he didn’t like participating in.

There was a veritable treasure trove of objects within the necropolis. Still, after touching one, Kafe refused to touch anything else. He could still feel the burn of the curse tormenting him for several days until his Shield managed to dispel it.

If Crow saw him now, Kafe was sure the man would pity him. Maybe, considering his status and heritage, the guy would find it outright hilarious. He hated owing Crow a debt because it hovered over him like an executioner’s ax. But in this place, that one good act toward him had left the deepest impression, and Kafe held onto it as if it was the only thing that could protect his sanity.

Today was different. Kafe rubbed his bleary eyes as he forced himself from his restless sleep and saw a ling of ghosts walking toward the pyramid. He looked around and saw all the pathways had ghosts lined up. In his half-delirious state, he realized it was the quiet that woke him.

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Ignoring the lines, he moved forward and found his Rock of Pondering. It was a large flat stone near the pyramid that he’d spent time sitting on while observing. Each ghost touched the barrier, but most were rebuffed before they scattered into nothing. However, a few managed to slip inside, and their souls were purified within the fire bowl, which contained three separate flames. As the soul was bathed in that light, it looked like it faded out of existence, but he suspected that wasn’t the case.

“They are leaving for the real underworld.”

Kafe looked over nonchalantly because it wasn’t the first time he’d heard voices in his head. Tuning them out was usually safest, but his eroding mental state made it, so he wasn’t sure if he ignored them or not.

“That’d be nice. Maybe I can join them.”

“If you approached the temple today, you will die. Those flames are called the Light of the Awen, and with a soul as tainted as yours, it would simply destroy you.”

“Either way, I’ll die soon enough,” Kafe said. It was true that he’d stocked up on a lot of food and water within his Shield, but that supply was finite.

“Then change.”

Kafe felt more and more that he wasn’t having a conversation with himself. The man next to his appeared ancient but was once a large warrior based on his bearing and scars. It didn’t look like his size had diminished with age. The thinning snow-white hair on his head and skin translucent as ice gave the man a ghost-like appearance.

“Who are you?”

“Finally noticed I’m one of the living, eh?”

Actually, Kafe thought the exact opposite but reached out and poked the man. His finger met resistance, but he was still unsure, so he pinched the man. The old guy let out a small yelp.

“You done?”

“Sorry…” Kafe mumbled, now fully awake and more alert than he’d been in weeks. “Wait, how did you get in here?”

“I can come and go as I please because my soul is clean. That barrier prevents those entities with sinister intentions from leaving this place. Including the souls of the living who’ve darkened their own souls.”

“So you are saying there is a way for me to leave?”

“Well, this is a necropolis. It isn’t meant to contain the living. The problem is your cultivation has infused your body with too much death and resentment of departed souls. The barrier can’t distinguish the difference between you and an evil spirit.”

Kafele sighed and resigned himself to becoming another ghost of this place. One that would remain repentant to leave through the Light of the Awen.

“Don’t fret. I naturally have a way to help you.”

“Who are you?”

“My Tribe name is Dashes Through Snow, but you can just call me Old Man Snow.”

“You are a Shaman?”

“Was… sort of still am, but life doesn’t always go the way we’d like. Now I’m the caretaker of this place. Once every five years, I activate the cleanse, which is what you are seeing now. It helps transition the souls ready to move on, who have given up on their sinister ways. Imagine if arrived here a week from now. You’d have to suffer for five years before I came.”

Kafe shuddered thinking about it, and unbidden tears came to his eyes. It was the first time in his life he’d ever cried. But he hadn’t reached a stage of being remorseful, more like he’d had a taste of what it felt to be human.

“What do I need to do?”

“Just so happens, if you enter the water surrounding this place, you can choose to forget your current cultivation. Cleanse your Body of the dark ways, scrub away the malaise on your soul, and purify your Spirit. It can’t fix your Mind, but you can do that independently. If you truly want to change, you need to acknowledge your wrongdoings and seek to amend them. It won’t be an easy path, but you are extremely young, so the darkness in you isn’t deep.”

“And then what happens?”

“You give up on becoming a Witch Doctor. Becoming a caretaker of a necropolis has a certain perk. Within this place, I can teach you how to become a Spiritualist. With your high Spirit from your current cultivation method, it should take much for you to build a foundation. Then you’ll be able to walk through that barrier and leave.”

“So I’d become… part of the Tribe?” Kafe asked, not sure what this old man was trying to do.

Old Man Snow burst out laughing. “Oh, gods no. But the cultivation is within the same realm, I suppose. Shamans study the Spirit Realm to pay respects to our ancestors, and since we are deeply connected to them, we can summon them to our side. Those summoned spirits can aid us, provided we have enough spiritual energy to keep them here. Once we deplete that, they return. Or if they are dispersed, they’ll return too.”

“Then what does a Spiritualist do?”

“They take the spirit inside their body and use it to enhance their abilities. Summoning a spirit from the Spirit Realm will be tough, and you’ll need a new ritual every time you want to form a link to another spirit. However, once you’ve linked to one, you’ll be able to summon it easier. As far as I know, you can only summon one spirit into your body at a time.”

“Isn’t that incurring more karmic debt?”

“Heavens no. That’s the best part. If you think of the cycle of rebirth in three parts, then the Spirit Realm is the third and final leg before rebirth. You live, die and enter the underworld to be processed, and enter the Spirit Realm to await rebirth. Only all your memories of previous lives have been suppressed. That spirit can then take on the form of a beast, man, or elemental embodiment of some power it once wielded. Depending on what your ritual was trying to summon.”

“Is that really an answer?” Kafe frowned.

“Oh, right. I don’t get a chance to talk to people much, so I ramble. By bringing them here, you strengthen their spiritual power, which will aid them in rebirth. You aren’t creating karmic debt but paying it off instead. You are doing them a favor. Even if they are dispersed forcibly, they won’t be harmed. So… how about it, kid? Want to be my disciple?”

“Do I have a choice?” Kafe grumbled but wouldn’t dare disrespect a benefactor. Now there are two people he owed a life, Crow and Old Man Snow. “I accept.”

“Wear this and relax for the next few days while I finish up. Then we’ll begin.” Old Man Snow handed over a pendant. “It’ll protect you from the malevolence of this place. In other words, you’ll be able to sleep like a baby.”

Kafe nearly dropped to his knees in gratitude.