Aperio raised a brow at the magic that flowed from the makeshift chalice. It looked much like the one Moria had used to share her mories, but the way in which the mana clung to her surrogate mother reminded the All-Mother more of the ritual that had set her free.
How she had such a vivid image of the Emperor being burned to death by the flas of the ritual was not sothing she knew. By every account, it did not make sense; she had been dead by then. But here she was, with the mory of seeing Emperor Jenario Xenthis desperately trying to get the magically-fuelled flas off his body. Unlike that ti, the mana that clung to Moria did not try to burn her; quite the opposite in fact.
If Aperio's senses were not tricking her — and so far they had not — the mana that ca from the chalice was giving information to her surrogate mother in a way that was a little too close to her own thod of telepathy.
Just as she was about to question it further, the magic of the chalice widened to offer everyone nearby the chance to view what Moria was seeing. There was no System notification or voice in her head, just the knowledge that information was offered and, should she wish so, it would be hers.
Neria took the offer imdiately while Caethya hesitated, asking Aperio if it was safe to do so. The simple answer was that she did not know, but neither did she have to. A thought was all she needed, and invisible strands of her own mana flowed into the rather crude magic that ca from the makeshift chalice. She tilted her head at the sensation that spread through her mind. Aperio could sll sothing she could only describe as nostalgia as she tugged on the unseen strings of the magic that the chalice's mana tried to make a reality. Another gentle twist, brought on by a thought, caused the sll to turn into a tiny echo at the back of her mind. Then, she simply showed her love what she saw.
The first thing to enter her mind was a sense of foreboding that was contrasted by a weird note of happiness. It only took a mont longer for the hazy feelings she received from the mana to resolve into a proper image in her mind, showing her what the mory of the [Keeper of Voices] held.
Aperio had expected to see sothing nefarious, like a dark room filled with the leaders of the [Ancestral Guard] in the process of planning how best to enslave their own people in order to further whatever their goal actually was. Instead, what greeted her was simply the sight of various Beastkin pouring over a vast sea of scrolls in what appeared to be a makeshift library. Light flooded the room, and where it could not reach, there were large crystals that provided illumination.
"Are we sure it will work?" one of the Beastkin asked. "I thought it was pretty clear that he was gone for good."
"The All-Mother is not infallible," the voice of the [Keeper of Voices] replied. "She said so herself." His voice carried a note of truth, the sa Aperio had felt when she had spoken to Neria before. "How can he be dead but still give us his blessings?
"Because his power remains," he continued, answering his own question. "And if his power is there, I am sure that we can bring him back."
The Beastkin who had asked the first question gave a slow nod. "But why this ritual? It is nothing more than theory — conjecture even. Combining the Ritual of Rembrance with an untested one for transferring power between dungeons cannot be safe."
"If Moria was here it would be guaranteed to work," the Keeper said. "She has the bell and the focus, but as she has forsaken us we will have to make do with what we have."
The other Beastkin shook their head. "While I do not agree with her decisions, throwing out everyone not of the tribes is not the right call either."
So the plan was not to make so dungeon hybrid? Aperio wondered, tilting her head ever-so-slightly. At the mont, it seed like they were trying to revive Chellien — a rather stupid idea as far as she was concerned. The orb they had was not the God himself, but rely the essence of power that she had made for them. Chellien had passed on to the next life. She knew this with a certainty that almost hurt.
Rembering what she had done that day — even though it had been her old self — felt different. There was a sadness she could not quite place, but could definitely not refute. She could feel that there was more to this mory, but no matter how hard she tried to rember it stubbornly remained outside her grasp, only giving her another wave of sadness. Since when does a mory hurt?
The content of a mory could undoubtedly hurt, Aperio knew that well, but this was different. It was almost like the act of rembering itself brought her pain, not physical but rather sothing deep down.. Like it hurt her Soul… that was, if she had one.
Aperio was taken from her thoughts by a shift in scenery brought forth by Moria physically pushing the mana along. The new mory that took shape before her mind's eye was at first nothing more than a dark room, but soon she could see the [Keeper of Voices] as well as the effectively dead grouping of Beastkin she had seen in the council chambers, still very much alive in this slice of the past.
They were inspecting runes they had carved into the floor, ones that did not only look like the ones currently active around the makeshift chalice but also the ones Aperio could so vividly rember from the day she died. Is that the Ritual of Rembrance they talked about?
It was the only thing that would fit, and the fact that Moria used it to view this mory only furthered the thought. The more she thought about it, the more it seed obvious that this ritual was the very sa the Inaru Empire had tried to use on her. And it did not work because I am the All-Mother?
If that was indeed the case, Aperio would have liked to know if the Emperor saw parts of her own mory before he died. Or did they kill him before the fire did? Without an awful lot of care, the act of sharing a mory with a mortal was enough to kill them. The tests in the Ebenlowe dungeon had proved as much. How ironic. The man had wanted to beco a God, but could not even survive a few of her mories.
"It looks good to ," one of the Beastkin said. "I still think it is a bad idea, however. There is a reason nobody has tried to revive Chellien throughout the entire history of our order."
"Because they were cowards," another Beastkin that stood next to the [Keeper of Voices] replied. "They tolerated the filth that lived off our land and our accomplishnts because their Gods were not dead. Now that those traitors have been disposed of, we can bring back our Chellien. He will tell you the sa thing I did, I am sure of it."
You would be wrong, Aperio thought as a bit of her magic flowed around what was left of the Beastkin who had spoken in the mory. For a mont she considered simply crushing her then and there, just to make sure that she could not co back even if they managed to reverse whatever it was they had actually done.
"It does not matter," the [Keeper of Voices] said, silencing the other two Beastkin. "The decision has already been made. The ritual will comnce tonight, with or without the help of the [Keeper of Relicts]."
"What about her daughter?"
"She can stay in her room," he replied. "If we have need of her title, we will get her."
Aperio would have liked to give them all a slap in the face for this hair-brained sche, but it was already too late for that. In what world would this ever go well? And why would they think that Chellien would be in favour of sothing like this when he had quite explicitly asked her to just give them his power? Unless they forgot that?
She wanted to say that mortals were awfully forgetful, but so was she. And they have to pass the info along by word of mouth or writing. Things were bound to get lost to ti, but she still thought that care would be taken to pass along sothing as critical as the fact that Chellien's Soul was no longer there. It was important, after all.
"Let's hope we don't need to do that," yet another Beastkin said. "Her mother will be furious if she finds out about this."
"What do you an 'find out'?" the [Keeper of Voices] asked. "We told her that we have her daughter and that she will have to co back if she wants to see her."
The Beastkin who had spoken before simply rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. After a brief mont, he set his eyes on the black marble in the center of the room and mumbled a few words, undoubtedly a prayer to his dead God. "I would like the record to state that I am voicing my objection to this ritual and the alternatives yet again."
"Noted," the Keeper replied, then shook his head. "Our descendants will rember your foolishness. Even if we fail to revive him, the ritual will give each of us a fraction of his power. There will be enough mana for every mber of the guard to live free from the shackles of ti this weak flesh imposes on us. We will live forever!"
"Heresy," Moria mumbled, her voice cutting through the mory like a hot knife through butter. "Idiots, all of them."
The words of her surrogate mother were followed by another shift in scenery, a leap forward in ti. This ti, the view was split; part of the mory still with the [Keeper of Voices] inside the chamber with the remnants of Chellien's might, and the rest with the council in their chambers.
"Is everyone prepared?" he asked as he inspected the runes in the square at his feet yet again. "There can be no mistakes."
"Everyone is ready," one of the council mbers said, lifting a small, pure white crystal in front of her eyes. "The sacrifices have been prepared."
Aperio's eyes narrowed at the ntion of sacrifices, and she forced herself further into the mory in hopes of getting a better view of the crystal. Sadly, it yielded no results. It seed that she could not will detail into existence where there was none to begin with, and she watched with unsated curiosity as each of the council mbers in turn brought forth their own small crystal.
"Good," the Keeper said. "Then we shall begin."
There was no grand speech or anything. The Beastkin simply closed his eyes, raised his arms towards the ceiling and, much like the ritual that had reinstated her as the All-Mother, white flas spread across the entire formation as the [Keeper of Voices] recited the sa chant the mages of the Inaru Empire had used. Unlike that ti, however, there was no corpse that she unwittingly inhabited to spell the end of yet another continent. Only a group of stupid Beastkin.
The All-Mother watched with furrowed brows as the mbers of the council lifted the crystals they had, joining the [Keeper of Voices] in his chant. A mont later, the light inside the crystals gave out and what seed to be white magma dripped from them onto the floor, where it turned into the sa fire that had spread through the chamber that held the remnants of Chellien's might; the husk of his Soul.
None of the Beastkin seed to mind the fire as they continued their chant, their voices growing more and more discordant as they slowly raised their hands above their head, almost as if they had to lift sothing only they could see. A mont later, their bodies went limp as white flas began to flow like liquid from their eyes and ears.
The [Keeper of Voices] ceased his chants, the final words seemingly spoken. He opened his eyes and breathed in, the fire in the room dimming slightly. When he let the breath back out, the flas grew in response.
"Finally," he whispered, setting his eyes on the black marble at the center of the room. "We will have a God again."
He lowered his arms to point at the sphere, and the fire that had spread through the entire room rushed towards the remains of Chellien. As it entered the sphere, the black fog inside turned a murky grey and a mont later the fire lashed out from the orb to strike at the [Keeper of Voices]. He let out a scream as the flas made contact with his flesh, and tried to remove them, but the magical fire would not co off. His panic only grew as the flas themselves started to drag him towards the fog-filled sphere.
No amount of struggle seed of any use against the flas he had brought into this world with his ritual. Soon, the [Keeper of Voices] found himself floating above the pedestal in the center of the room; the fire of his surroundings closed in around him, coating his entire body in layer upon layer of flas that slowly lost their fiery nature and transford into a largely translucent crystal.
Aperio let go of the magic that flowed from the chalice and set her eyes on the physical body of the [Keeper of Voices]. "What a fool."
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