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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Dec 21, 2020 22:42:39 GMT
"Captain, what are your orders!" I run to the railing to which they are approaching.
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Post by Diocles on Dec 21, 2020 23:08:08 GMT
The captain watches the approach of the Ithacul raiding party with open fear in his eyes, but he sets his jaw. "The Sacrifice must be given!"
The first mate then whispers something in his ear, and the captain, after a moment of surprise, gives a grave nod. The first mate runs below decks.
There is a knock at Iri's cabin door, Mairwyn, and you hear the voice of one of the sailors. "The captain asks you to prepare the Sacrifice, little mageling"
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Post by Storyteller on Dec 21, 2020 23:19:13 GMT
"Tell him I obey," I answer, forcing my voice past the lump in my throat. "Iri," I say. "Let me do the offices of love for you. Let me array you."
Tears are flowing down my cheeks, but I take from its place on the wall the pure white gown.
My mind whirls. What gift can I give to him at parting?
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Post by Diocles on Dec 21, 2020 23:22:07 GMT
Tears stand in Iri's dark eyes. "I don't want to go down into darkness." His hands shake.
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Post by Storyteller on Dec 21, 2020 23:31:39 GMT
I take his trembling hands and kiss them. My broken heart swells. "Let me give you light, Iri my love." I take from my wrist the old silver bracelet given me by the Mind Master at the Academy to celebrate casting my first spell. It is hardly valuable, but it has a locket, which can be closed.
I cast continual light on the inside of the locket. "Let this burn so long as I love you," I say. "Light, my beloved." I close the locket, and the light vanishes. "I think that the Ithacul do not like light much, but this can comfort you." I fasten the bracelet around his wrist.
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Post by Diocles on Dec 21, 2020 23:38:00 GMT
Iri hugs you and softly weeps, as do you, and then he wordlessly shows you the small oaken chest that holds the ceremonial bracelets and anklets of coral and aquamarine he's supposed to wear. You dress him in the ceremonial white gown, fasten the ornaments onto his black limbs, and place the crown of lilies on his head. He is beautiful beyond mortal imagination. Then lastly you clasp your gift around his wrist.
The door opens, and sailors stand ready to escort the Sacrifice above decks.
Meanwhile, Cian, you are surrounded by Ithacul warriors, sniffing the air as they inspect you. "This is the Sacrifice?" they ask no one in particular.
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Post by Storyteller on Dec 21, 2020 23:42:23 GMT
I lift Iri's hand to my lips one last time and prepare to have my heart taken from me.
(Do I hear the warriors' words, asking about Cian?)
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Post by Diocles on Dec 21, 2020 23:44:03 GMT
You don't hear the words, Mairwyn, but you walk slowly behind Iri as he is led above decks.
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Post by Storyteller on Dec 21, 2020 23:48:01 GMT
I cannot stop the tears, as I follow Iri. He is indeed too beautiful for this world!
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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Dec 22, 2020 3:52:49 GMT
I stand impassively among the Ithacul and do not reply.
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Post by Diocles on Dec 22, 2020 8:15:16 GMT
Your stoic, wordless response invites the slavering Ithacul to gather close around you, hemming you in on all sides. "A redhead? My favorite!" one cries out. And the raiders make ready to lay hands on you.
The captain cries out, however, that you are not the Sacrifice. A single deep drum beats, and a sailor drummer leads Iri, the ornamented Zenji youth now clothed in a ceremonial white robe, up to the deck, with Mairwyn following and silently weeping.
The Ithacul move away from Cian and surround Iri now, and they sniff the air. "Ah yes. He, too, is acceptable."
"But I want that one!" the first merfolk cries out, pointing back at Cian. Apparently you, Cian, qualify as a sacrifice, too!
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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Dec 23, 2020 2:14:15 GMT
I ready a Sanctuary spell just in case.
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