Be it hereby declared and ordained, that no practitioner of the magical arts shall dare or presume to employ the lifeblood of any living creature in the casting or working of enchantments, spells, or other conjurations. For such an act grievously transgresses the natural order, mingling the sacred essence of life with arcane forces, thereby diminishing the immortal soul of the victim, rendering it incomplete and maimed in the life to come. Whosoever shall be discovered in willful breach of this solemn prohibition shall forthwith suffer the gravest penalties. The offender shall incur immediate and irreversible excommunication from the Grace of the Goddess of Light. Thereafter, the said transgressor shall be subject to summary execution, and their mortal remains shall be desecrated as a sign and warning unto all who might entertain similar abominations. – Inscription found inside the ruins of the Liopasto
ELA
Tyrell followed Ela to where their fellow Acolytes were waiting for them. Surrounding the Acolytes were the sixty members of the Faithful. Half wore red armbands while the rest wore black. Ela protested the colors. The Red and the Black were Cull’s minions – and they failed to stop the others from rescuing the bitch. Palin argued the link to Cull was important. The former cleric failed, but his failure brought the rise of the Purist movement. The others agreed with Palin, and Ela trusted her friends’ judgement. These friends wouldn’t betray her.
“Everything is assembled, Tyrell,” Tanus said. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. It is time to finish this.” The group split as Tyrell and Tanus walked across the Purist camp to the base of the ruined tower. Tyrell assured her the towers were helpful, but not critical to their plans. She knew he was lying. Well, not lying exactly. More the reassurance one gives a lover that everything will be fine when a new obstacle arises. She trusted him that he could still do what needed to be done.
Just in front of the ruined tower was a square about ten feet on a side drawn into the ground. Standing inside the square were four naked men. From their tattoos, they were early members of the Purist movement. These men were who could be trusted to be loyal, but not with any real responsibility. They were perfect for this part of the plan.
Amar stepped into the square and drew the Gray Dagger. Ela recoiled involuntarily as the blade came out. The ancient weapon was one of the artifacts Tanus brought back from his time wandering the Badlands. He said that one morning he woke up with the Gray Dagger lying beside him, wrapped in parchment explaining its purpose. If the parchment was to be believed, the Gray Dagger was created by human sorcerers during the Daemon War to amplify the humans’ magic and turn the daemons’ magic against them. Amar already proved the dagger’s capabilities by using it to destroy that human ship. Amar walked up to the first man.
“Thank you for your sacrifice,” Amar said. He whipped the Gray Dagger across the man’s throat. Amar grabbed the man, holding him up as the blood poured down his chest. Tyrell and Tanus held their hands up to the gash and cupped some in their hands. They walked to one side of the square, chanted in barely audible tones. They dribbled the blood in the dirt. As they did, the blood thickened into what looked like a red cable. Satisfied, Tyrell and Tanus turned back to Amar. He walked to the next man and repeated the sacrifice. To their credit, none of the sacrifices flinched or cried out as the Acolytes harvested their blood and lives.
Once the square was outlined with red, Tyrell, Tanus, and Amar joined Ela and the others outside the square. Wiping his bloody hands on the Gray Dagger, Tyrell pointed at one corner of the square. The red line smoldered. It reminded Ela of one of those fuses on the human cannon. Such a small bit of fire for such a large event.
“The ritual is now in motion,” Tanus said, “It is time for us to go into the city for the purification of the Crystal Blood.” The Faithful kneeled as Tanus and Tyrell chanted again. The world around them shimmered as the spell took effect. The Acolytes gathered in front of the kneeling Faithful. Ela stepped in front of her friends. She motioned for the Faithful to stand.
“You have your orders,” Ela told the gathered Faithful. “Move silently and swiftly into the city. Once on Aponte Hill, we will find our brothers who have secured the Crystal Blood. Then we will purify her. By this time tomorrow, we will be setting the empire on a new path to regain its soul.” The Faithful kept their stoic masks, but Ela saw the gleam in their eyes.
“Faithful, follow me.”
