by Tracey Alley
from sneaking glances at the roiling festival. The Sun Ascension Festival always began with the sun’s first rays. A whole day dedicated to drunken revelry and orgies designed to encourage the sun, now at it’s weakest point of the year, to rise strongly once again. In truth the worship of Vadatajs was more common in the far south, even among Tares’ own people, to his very great shame, where winter truly did seem to weaken the sun, with each day becoming noticeably shorter. Here in the north there simply was not that much difference between the seasons. That fact had not stopped The Dark One from introducing the perverted religion to the people of Ixlan.
The Sun Ascension Festival was the single most important rite in the worship of Vadatajs, bringing together the three elements of fertility, blood and chaotic behavior, which were all beloved by the daemonic god of debauchery. Everywhere Tares looked he could see that the city had been decorated for the festival. Garlands of blood-red flowers had been hung from doorways, phallic symbols and crude images were strategically placed in every available location and the wine, ale and mead flowed in an unending river. Already many of the drunken citizens were indulging in lustful activities, doing openly on the streets things that should have remained private. The minotaur barely suppressed a shudder; the activities going on behind closed doors would be that much worse. Knowing that for many of the citizens of Ixlan this vile worship was imposed upon them against their will did little to ease Tares’ troubled heart.
As they drew closer to the eastern gate Nikolai began to steadily increase the tempo on the drum beats, walking faster in time to the music. From what Tares could see there were at least three other processional marches all converging on the eastern gates at the same time each one with cold and deadly precision. All around him the people lined the streets cheering drunkenly, becoming whipped into a frenzy of blood lust at the prospect of seeing the ‘chosen ones’ torn apart in honor of Vadatajs. The display and their behavior was sickening, yet Tares reminded himself that if they knew no better he did not have the right to condemn their form of worship, but he longed to be able to enlighten the people about the joy of following Belenus rather than the evil Vadatajs.
It was a crucial part of Nikolai’s plan that their procession be the first out of the gate; that way as they marched toward the altar they could steadily increase their pace until they were out of sight of the following processions. Unfortunately as they drew closer to the gate Tares could see that there were at least two other processions in front of their position, and likely the third as well. The necromancer was obviously aware of the situation as he began to beat his ceremonial drum a little faster, urging them all forward.
Even as he increased his speed Tares saw that it would not be enough. The first of the other processional marches was already too close to their position; it would look out of place and draw too much unwanted attention if their march were to break formation any more than they had already done. They would simply all have to trust that Nikolai had some alternate plan in place for this eventuality.
As it turned out their processional march ended up being the second last to leave the eastern city gate. Just being out of the accursed city came as a relief to the big minotaur, who felt as though he were able to breathe cleanly once again. How Nikolai intended to deal with the situation once they reached the stone altar, roughly three miles north east of the city, Tares had no idea but he was felt sure the necromancer would come up with something.
The western side of the city near the harbor they had come from was made up from the impoverished, decrepit remains of the original fishing villages. The eastern side where they now were, however, was vastly different. Obviously once used for farming purposes it had long ago been abandoned leaving the fallow land to revert to a natural state. Wildflowers grew in abundance alongside myriad herbs and other shrubs, the landscape sloping steadily upwards to the hills. Tares sighed deeply; this would be a beautiful country if only it were not so oppressed by The Dark One and his perverse preference for Vadatajs.
The Dark One’s Justice
Looking up the hill towards the stone altar Tares stopped in sheer shock. Standing there as if Tares had somehow conjured him with his name, was The Dark One himself. As usual he was heavily robed, the black linen cowl covering his entire body and leaving his face shrouded in deep shadows. Standing to his left was an equally robed, although not hooded, dark skinned wizard Tares recognized as Malachi, The Dark One’s chief lieutenant.
On his right was a tall elven woman, wearing the same elaborate heavily embroidered white robes that the creatures they had encountered within the prison had been wearing. Her long shiny blue-black hair was held back from her face with a thin gold band bearing a large opalescent crystal in the centre and similar crystals adorned her delicately pointed ears. Her features, like the majority of the elven race, were beautiful. She had large, almond shaped eyes, dusky skin, wide, sensuous mouth, yet in this woman those very features were cold and repellent rather than attractive. Her eyes were narrowed almost to slits in arrogant disdain, the clear skin stretched too tight over her prominent cheekbones and the sensuous mouth was pulled into a thin, cruel smile. At their feet, kneeling with his hands tied behind his back and his feet tied together was a human male.
“Come closer my people,” The Dark One began, spreading his arms wide as though welcoming them into his presence, “come closer you who are to be privileged above all others. You, priests of Vadatajs, chosen from birth for the honors you receive this night have come here, as you have done every year to honor the sun, the great symbol of our beloved deity. You bring with you those special few so carefully chosen to spill their precious life blood in honor of the great Vadatajs.”
Tares noticed that the tall elven woman was openly sneering at this speech of The Dark One’s, clearly displaying her disdain for the worship of Vadatajs. The big minotaur wondered with a growing fear how The Dark One would react should he notice what he would undoubtedly consider blasphemous impiety.
“Yes, you have come again, as you always do and let me assure you first that you will continue to do so. This celebration is too important; it holds too much meaning for our beloved citizens to abandon it. So fear not. Although many, many things will change in Ixlan, this day and most especially this night, will not be one of them.”
Tares could hear a low, questioning murmuring spreading through the priests that surrounded him. Obviously The Dark One’s presence and his cryptic remarks were not a typical part of this ceremony. Glancing around the minotaur could see the other members of the various processions beginning to mill around, moving closer together as if for protection. In the deepening shadows and growing confusion the big minotaur moved forward until he was standing next to Nikolai.
“I don’t understand, this doesn’t appear to be a usual part of the ceremony. Do you know why The Dark One is here?” he whispered to the necromancer.
“No, I don’t know but I don’t like it. Something is wrong.” Nikolai whispered back, falling silent when The Dark One began to speak again.
“You have no doubt heard many rumors, hints of great things to come and I have come here this night to assure you that the rumors are true. No longer will you, or I, or any of us remain in subjection to any of the gods, not even Vadatajs.”
At this statement the gathering crowd gasped openly in amazement. Tares was utterly dumbfounded; for The Dark One, for any one to make such a claim was completely incomprehensible.
“Fear not, my people; although this is new to you soon you will come to see the beauteous liberation that awaits you. No longer dependant upon the gods, any of them, for our lives, for the bounties of the land of Kaynos, to be able to rely only upon ourselves and the power that lies within. The gods have been as a huge rock around our neck for far too long, with their demands for tribute and sacrifice. Well, no longer,” The Dark One’s voice rose, yelling defiantly into the growing darkness, “from this day forward we pay homage to ourselves! We
render tribute unto us!”
As he finished speaking The Dark One raised his hands high above his head, pointing towards the darkening sky. As if in response to The Dark One’s thoughts came a sudden rumble of thunder, loud and menacing, followed by bolts of flame that struck the great stone altar with a fierce heat so intense that the heavy rock actually began to melt. Over the noise of the crackling flames and the still echoing thunder Tares could hear those around him beginning to whimper in fear, some openly crying. The minotaur priest found it difficult to believe that The Dark One was responsible for the powerful elemental display, yet that must mean the magic had been performed by either Malachi, or the elven woman.
“Behold,” The Dark One spoke into the mayhem, “the power granted me by Shallendara, our new high priestess, the mediator of a power unlike anything seen before in all The Kingdoms. Power not dependant upon gaining or retaining the favor of the gods, power not restricted to mages, power for all. But,” he held up one pale slender hand, requesting and receiving silence, “there must still be sacrifice. There must always be sacrifice, for how else would we learn?