The Ritual

It was almost time. Their arms were raised high towards the stormy sky, the language of the ancients spilling from their lips in a dark murmur. The temple, long since abandoned, rumbled around them. They looked ahead, unwavering, eyes as cold as the air around them. But that turned into pain when they heard her voice. They stopped. No. Not here. They squinted their eyes shut, praying, pleading from the gods that it wasn’t actually her. Anyone but her. But they heard her again, calling their name, closer. They turned to look at her.

“What are you doing here?” they asked.

She stopped in her tracks at the entrance. Her short hair was dishevelled from the winds blowing around the mountain, and a cut on her cheek was painting her skin with crimson droplets. Her armour was damaged, but not pierced, her shield dented and scratched. The sword hanging from her hand was covered in the black blood of the golems they had summoned to protect the temple. They let their arms fall loose.

“What are you doing here?” they repeated, trying to mask the quiver taking hold of their voice.

“Stopping you.” Her voice was stable. There was not a hint of hesitation, nor exhaustion. They had to hold their ground.

“From doing what? Performing the ritual? You’re half a century too late for that.”

She stepped in. She needed to take only two steps before her presence was rooting itself into every orifice of the temple’s cracked stone tablets. She had always felt like it. Commanding, invasive. They took a step back.

“Don’t”, they said.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not after all of this.” She was closing the gap between them.

“This is outside of your duties to the king. We’re far beyond politics.” But they knew it was useless to argue.

She was in front of them now. She was seeping into the very essence of the temple, as well as into the mind of the cloaked figure facing her without meeting her gaze. She towered over them, her rage stripping down all their carefully curated defences. They took another step back, keeping their eyes shrouded in the shadows of their cloak and regret.

“Don’t do this.” Their voice was barely above a whisper.

“How could you?” Her voice faltered. Her façade broke. And she dropped her weapons. “How could you?” she repeated, much softer.

“You know I had to. We know of no other way to control the slumber cycle, and we must do our duty. I didn’t sign up for this role, but I can’t subject anyone else to it either.” Guilt was dragging at their every limb, snaking its way to their heart. They looked up at her now, meeting her softened eyes. They knew it would be the last time the two of them would stand face to face like this. Tears were glistening in her eyes.

“It doesn’t have to end like this”, she whispered.

They knew that, but they couldn’t force another to carry their burden. They had pushed all feelings away like all those chosen before them. It was part of who they were, the culture of the keepers. They knew the kingdom hated them and their kind and they intended to keep it that way. But somewhere along the way they made a mistake. Then something happened. She happened.

The king, fool as he was, had decided to get rid of the keepers. He had accused them of being heathens, a cult of the ancients, and had sent his guard to hunt them down. And as a knight of the king’s holy order, she was one of the commanders of the guard. The keepers had lost some novices to an ambush and had retreated to the tunnels to treat those that were injured. They were hauling an injured child to the tunnels, when their paths crossed with the commander’s regiment. She had compassion for the unarmed and the injured, so she let them go. The keepers retreated. No one knew the cave system of the kingdom as well as they did, so they were safe in the depths. But the ritual was set to take place soon. So, they had gathered a group to make preparations and had ventured out towards the temple.

She had been there. She had been at the temple. They had ushered their companions to hide and set out to complete the task alone. But they were careless. She noticed them sneaking in the shadows behind the pillars, so she had called out to them, sword in hand. She was determined to stop them from waking up the ancient ones. That had made them laugh. They had had no part in the ancients waking, nor had any of the other keepers. The ancient ones were waking on their own.

Eventually, the two grew to understand one another and became unexpected allies. Once she understood what the keepers were doing, she spent most of her time getting the king’s guard off their trail. They had all the time in the world to prepare for the ritual. And in this allyship, the two grew to be friends, sworn and trusted in all.

Except for one thing. They had never mentioned their role in the ritual. And now they knew she had found out.

“I know you think so, but I couldn’t do this to anyone else. It’s my duty and mine alone”, they said. They lowered their gaze again. It was almost time.

“But it’s unfair. What about your family? Your friends?” She took their hands into her own. “What about me?”

“I was chosen. We all know what that means. A sacrifice must be made to keep their slumber deep. It will end for us all if I don’t do this.” They hated it. They hated it, but it was for the greater good. They would die a villain to the people, but they did not care.

“You don’t have to be the only one.” Their eyes shot up to meet hers once more.

“…w-what?”

“You heard me.” She squeezed their hands in hers.

“But… This is my duty, you have yours to the king. And your family, and your life, and…”

“None of that matters to me more than you. I don’t know how I’d live with myself, knowing that I could have prevented losing you. So don’t make me.”

They could only stare at her in stunned silence. But she knew what they were thinking.

“I know. I know there is no way of knowing whether or not we’ll wake in some dreamscape or afterlife. We could wake up floating in the river of sinners. Or haunt the ground we walk on for an age. Hells, we may even be absorbed into the consciousness of the ancient ones, but who cares? If there is no way to prevent this, at least let me go with you.”

“I…”

“Don’t leave me.”

They stood for a moment, unmoving. The wind was howling around them, but neither could hear it. In the entire world, nothing mattered to them as much as this moment. As much as the other.

Finally, they broke the silence. “Do you know the ritual text?”

“As a scholar of the ancients, I’m offended you even ask.” She looked almost amused.

“Yes, but in the original language. We don’t speak as the ancients used to.”

“Of course.” Her confidence reassured them.

“Good.”

“Shall we then?” she asked.

Hand in hand, they stepped towards the altar.

“I love you”, she whispered.

“I love you too” they answered.

They raised their arms. It was time.