Open The Dedication of a God

[Prophet]

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Solar Eclipse

81st of Summer 517
14th Bell

The bright orb of Syna was starting to track westward in the sky. Things had been relatively calm since the great storm several days ago. Life had resumed to its normal pace of good living. The season was coming to a close, despite the troubles of the rest of the world; Ravok was poised to turn the page on yet another successful chapter of society, civilization and prosperity.

It was around this time when a shout rang out through the City Center and the bell was rung shortly thereafter. The sun had literally turned black. Now, in some worlds and realms, this was a normal occurrence where the moon blocked the light of the sun from the planet but not on Mizahar. Syna and Leth can never catch one another. No, this was a different type of ordeal.

Rhysol had delighted in the sudden revelry of his people when the massive storm clouds rolled through and blotted out the rest of the sky. His people worshipped him and celebrated which provided ample opportunities to spread his gifts. In that same spirit, the Great Deceiver took hold of his influence which surrounded the floating city and cast a curse of the eyes upon everyone in his realm. Those who have been touched by the god on the nearby lakeshore would also experience the spectacle.

The sun was still there, Syna’s light was unaltered except by those under the sway of the Lord of Evil. Rhysol spread his essence like a filter which turned the golden orb black and sent waves of fiery orange and red light cascading down around it. Day was still bright but in a strange way. The warming affects normally felt were lessened and flowers which only bloomed at night would begin to open.

Iridescent Purple Blooms :

Any individual who was fortunate enough to catch a purple flower from the storm thread (Red Sky) would see it open in the light of this eclipse. The flower sprays pollen into the face of its owner with unpleasant results. The smell will be bitter or rotten and the taste will be even worse but the reward will be worth it. For a bell or two, the PC will get to experience a new magic (not a lost discipline) though this is purely a hallucination. If one tells his or her story to the Black Sun and swears a Grand Oath, the Institute of Higher Learning will teach this individual the skill for free. It will be one thread only.

People flock into the alleys, the canals and the plazas to stare at the sun in its dark glory. Rhysol’s praises are shouted from every corner of the city. The City Guard distributes free lotus wine and cattail juice to all while the Black Sun is out in force to lead prayers, chants and songs in honor of their lord.

Music, art and many other forms of celebration quickly swing with the day’s turn of events though not all are joyous. Ebonstryfe members in plain clothes use the merriment to their advantage and snatch men, women and children for a variety of reasons. Some had prices put on their heads, some were painted as traitors and still others were marked as sound investments for one project or another. Always masters of their crafts, these men and women were nothing more than shadows in the weird light of Rhysol’s trick.

A bell later, the curse is removed from the eyes of those in Ravok but the party does not cease. Fanned by the practiced liturgies of the Black Sun acolytes and agents, Ravokians party well on into the evening and night with tasty eats, strong drink and great company. In times like this where all are equally blessed by the protector of their fair city, commoners and elitists join together to give thanks and celebrate their superiority above the rest of the world. Ravok is paradise and Rhysol is her groom – the black sun sailing overhead is the proof.

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Template inspired by Isaac Iceglaze

[Sayana]

Ever since her attack, each day she considered carefully whether or not she in good enough shape to leave the house. There was a new caution and wariness about her. Ravok was not a city to mess with, and she needed to be smart about it. Today was one of those days she would take the risk.

Her right mid was still healing and she wasn’t yet confident about her low right, however her two upper arms were faring much better now. Sayana dressed in one of her finer gowns and tied her belt of daggers around her waist. Her highs would be good for show, and her lower lefts would be ready with her blades. However, before she donned her cloak to head out, there was something important to be done.

She didn’t yet feel comfortable morphing her arms away, and she still wasn’t sure if she could, given that they were injured. However, her dark complexion made her equally recognizable. Stirring up her djed, she felt it tingle beneath her skin. She wasn’t quite sure of how it was to be done, but if it failed, she could always resort to some whitewash makeup. Yet she felt as though the magic would do a more thorough job. With the feeling of djed pulsing through her veins, she concentrated on a lighter paler colour she had seen on the majority of the Ravokians. Even her own slave, Shiress, had a fairer skin.

With the goal in mind, she started with her high arms. Focusing alone was proving to be difficult, so she began making gestures to rub her hands over her arms. It was almost like a washing motion. Using her djed she concentrated on cleaning, lightening, and removing the dark rich colour of her skin. As parts of her skin paled, she was encouraged. The challenging part was to keep up the concentration and obtain a consistent colouring without varying patches. It took nearly five chimes to complete just her arms, but she felt very pleased with the results. The next step was to move onto her face, shoulders, neck and neckline. Anything easily visible.

Slowly but surely, the colour was washed from her features. In a similar fashion, she added lighter brown streaks to her hair and combed through it with her fingers. Holding up a mirror, Sayana studied her facial features, but that’s where she faltered. You must only change what you are prepared to keep forever… should it never change back. Instead, the Eypharian rummaged through her belongings to find some makeup and elaborately did up her eyes, lips and cheeks. The rosy blush felt strange, and looked even stranger, but she did her best to mimic the look of what she had seen on others.

Using her cloak to hide her mid and low arms, she was ready to set out. The guise was strange, and stranger that she had to keep her djed active to keep it in place. But it would be well worth it for a chance to leave the house.

---

It had reached the afternoon and Sayana was still out and about in her ravosala. People had hopped in and out of her boat throughout the morning. She ferried one woman to visit her daughter-in-law, a man to pick up ‘supplies’ from the Black Tar’s Alchemical Services, and a couple of upper class ladies who were picking out various garments in the noble district. At first, the Eypharian hadn’t felt so bold after the recent incident, but if she was going to be out, she might as well be earning a profit.

She even went as far as casually chatting with one fellow, while occasionally glancing in a small mirror to ‘fix’ her hair. Sayana was more concerned that her morphing was holding up. Every so often, she would reassert her djed, although preferably when she had no passengers.

Tucked away within her cloak and held with her left low hand was a small flower. It was a curious thing that she had hardly let go of since acquiring it. No matter, it hardly inhibited her motions as she gave a shove with her pole to thrust the ravosala forwards. Her high hands were carefully out from under the cloak, yet still keeping her other arms hidden away. They were the ones that manned the ravosala pole and sent her moving along the canals with her current passenger.

Regardless of what Sayana thought the day might bring, the last thing she expected was for Syna to be suddenly consumed by darkness. It came swiftly, catching her unaware, but the noticeable change in lighting caused her to look up as though there might be a dark shadow blotting out the sun. But it was no shadow. No cloud. Only a perfect black void of nothingness covering the center of Syna with peeking rays surrounding the edges.

“By the eye of Rhysol…”

Sayana glanced quickly at the nobleman who had muttered the exclamation. Her passenger was staring up in awe and making quick gestures about himself. She only then realized the significance of the spectacle in the sky. It wasn’t like the star she had seen. It was the sun, but blackened. The Black Sun.

Sayana set down her pole and stared up at the blackened sun in awe. Was it real? Was it her own imagination or was it a sign from Rhysol himself? In that moment she felt overwhelmingly humbled and her immediate concerns seemed to pale in the presence of the void filling the sun. All she could do was gape and wonder at the god’s power as her ravosala drifted upon the canal.

[Sayana]

“Is it… is it a sign from Rhysol?” Sayana asked in a hushed tone, not knowing what else to say.

“Of course it is!” The noble replied, yet in an equally softened voice.

From within her cloak, she felt a slight tickle upon one of her left hands. She was about to scratch the itch when she recalled the flower she held, tucked away. The Eypharian glanced up at the sky again, as if to confirm that the black sun was still there, then discretely slipped her left high into her cloak to emerge with the magenta flower.

The noble, on the other hand, was transfixed on the eclipse in the sky, whereas Sayana looked at the flower as its petals slowly began to curl up. She let out a groan of discontent. She hadn’t seen the blossom open for days. Maybe even a dozen days. Why was it closing on her now?

“What’s that?”

Sayana looked up in surprise as she realized that her passenger had taken his eyes off the blackened sun.

“It’s, um…”

“One of the divine flowers from Rhysol? I wish I had managed to catch one. You must have been one of the ones he had chosen.”

In all her time in Ravok, she had hardly felt ‘chosen’. Not chosen, not blessed, far from it. At the citizenship office it had been made pointedly clear that she ranked low amongst the people of Ravok. And without the citizenship card, probationary as it was, she was nothing. Even lower than nothing.

Yet here she was, receiving Rhysol’s blessing in whatever form he sought to give out. Here she was, gazing up at Rhysol’s creation. A black sun with only thin fiery rays of orangey yellow light shining out at the edges. Here she was, an Eypharian in a human world, holding a… beautiful magenta flower.

As she looked down at the flower once more, it had fully spread its petals in the palm of her left hand. It was beautiful, and practically glowing in the center. She held it up and breathed in deeply to catch a trace of its scent.

Mere ticks later, a sudden vision took hold.

[Sayana]

There was a couple standing on a bridge. They both gazed up into the sky watching the celestial event of the eclipse. The man put his hand tenderly on the woman’s.

“You see, it is a sign from Rhysol. You believe in him, don’t you?”

“Yes of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” The woman replied in an irritated tone, yet her body betrayed her discomfort.

“I have loved you the moment I set eyes on you. And I have tried… tried to show you the way. Look at me Laura, and know that I wish it could have been otherwise…”

He held her hand tenderly as registration slowly showed on her face and her eyes began darting around. In moments, a group of six armed men appeared on the bridge and quickly surrounded her. They looked like either guards or Ebonstryfe, but it hardly mattered as they man handled her and strapped her arms behind her back. One of the guards pulled open the back of the dress's neckline to reveal a mark on her upper shoulder. It was a swirling shimmering opal. The mark of Healing.

As the men took her away, her husband, lover, whoever he was watched with a pained expression on his face. Yet all the while he stood with a sense of righteousness about him. He believed in Rhysol, just as much as he believed in his betrayal of the woman he loved. And upon this day of the black sun, it had been the right thing to do.

--

“Hello? Are you okay?”

Sayana felt a nudge on her shoulder and she shuddered out of the vision. It had been like a waking dream. So real, and yet also so relevant.

“I, um, got lost in his glory…” She muttered and gazed back up at the eclipse which still hadn’t faded from the sky.

“No shyke you did,” he replied with a laugh. “Let me off right here. There looks to be like some festivities in celebration of the black sun. Not going to miss a chance of free ale if they’ve got any.”

[Sayana]

Sayana silently steered the ravosala towards the nearest dock. She was still feeling overwhelmed by the vision. She gave a hypnotic hint of generosity, targeted at her passenger as he stepped out of the boat. As she caught his gaze she provided the subtle suggestion that it had been good fortune he had been on her boat when Rhysol’s blessing blackened out the sun. As such, he was more than willing to double the usual fare, and she smiled faintly at the pocketed coins.

Yet business aside, her sense of the world was radically shaken. Cries of praise for Rhysol echoed about the city and people clinked bottles and mugs with cheers and celebration. She was a believer in the gods, insofar that they existed. How could one not believe that there was a god of illusions when the streets of Alvadas changed and shifted everyday with the creativity and mood swings of a child? But had she really been touched by a god? Had she really been chosen? No. Of course not. It was just a flower. Yet all the same, she had never felt closer to the mystical and divine. Not even Clyde’s magic could make the whole city see a blackened out sun. Not even her magic.

As she sat in her ravosala pondering on what Rhysol really meant to her, she caught a glimpse of the flower starting to open up again. Full of excitement and anticipation, her attention immediately redirected to the bloom. Except that’s when it started to close. As she sighed, puzzling over the strange behaviour of the flower, a voice called out to her.

“Ravosala? Can you take me to the Temple?”

For the first time since taking on the role of a ravosala woman, Sayana had to decline. She had something much more important to investigate.

“Sorry. Personal matters, religious matters. I have somewhere I need to be.” She answered, although a bit sharply.

Within ticks the Eypharian had pushed off from the dock and was making her way down the canal. She had to see if the bridge from her vision was real. Had there been people standing on it? Had the incident happened? Or was it about to happen? The black sun seemed to show no sign of waning and she pushed off the side of a building to glide along faster with her ravosala.

Tucked in at her side was the flower. It was closed once more, but she held it out almost like a compass in case that were to change. Her closest guess to the strange behaviour was that it seemed to blossom with the events related to Rhysol. When the flowers had first rained down upon the city it had opened, and now when the god was influencing the sun, it had also opened.

When she glanced down she saw that the blossom was again starting to curl back up, as if it had just partially opened again. Inwardly she cursed at the frivolous nature of the flower, but hoped she would catch it once more when it was fully opened.

Still set on her task to find the bridge she had seen, she found herself constantly looking around. Crowds of people gathered in revelry and priests called out prayers to the masses. Despite ravosalsas being the main mode of transport, there were hundreds of bridges connecting the city on the lake. Some were stone, some were wood, some a combination. She had never thought so much about bridges and yet each was just a little different from the next.

What if Rhysol really had chosen her? What if the flower was some sort of means to show potential candidates of the Ebonstryfe or the Black Sun? What if it was some way to commune directly with Rhysol himself?

This time she didn’t even notice the flower open before the vision hit her.

--

“Mommy, does Rhysol love me just as much as he loves Adam?”

The scene was of a woman and three children sitting on a dock looking up at the eclipse.

“Yes he does Julie. He loves all three of you just as much. Just like I love all of you equally…”

--

The vision was substantially shorter than the earlier one and the moment Sayana came out of it, she glanced down at the bloom which was slowly closing up once more. The latest vision didn’t seem to add much, but it served as new motivation to find the bridge she had seen in the first.

[Sayana]

When she finally passed under the bridge, she had to do a double take. Was this… was this really it? The railings looked familiar. The stones, she couldn’t quite tell. But there was also this combination of both stone and wood like what she had seen in her vision. And it looked like an older style of bridge, closer to the heart of the city. More rounded and simple, rather than long and elegant.

She had been poling her way through the city for nearly half a bell. She looked up at the sky and wondered just how long Syna would remain blackened. But yes, if the couple really had been standing here on this bridge, they would have had an excellent view of the black sun.

Sayana found a small platform to dock her ravosala and she tied it up before heading to the bridge. As her memory tried to recreate the scene, the city skyline was suddenly acutely familiar. It was here. It had to have been here. But had it already happened? Or was it about to happen?

There was a peddler calling out his wares. Food, drink, trinkets, all in a little cart. Sayana quickly approached the elderly man and pointed up at the bridge.

“Did you see a couple standing up there? Within the last bell or so? Since the black sun appeared?”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I ain’t. Couldn’t say for sure.” He answered, not committing either way.

Regardless, she purchased some fine wine and promised to return the glass. She followed the cheers and revelry, and soon found a group gathered singing a song of praise to Lord Rhysol. In the thick of it was a man who had perhaps seen too many drinks that night. His voice was by far the loudest, but also seemed to slide up and down the notes with the grace of a donkey.

The man in question was being half held up by two others and his shirt was stained with sloshed lotus wine. Sayana nearly turned away to find someone better suited as a witness, when she suddenly realized it was the same man from the bridge. In less than half a bell, the free drink had really done a number on him.

But had the scene really happened? Or was he just a man out celebrating? As she took a long sip of her own wine and stood along the sidelines watching the rowdiness of the crowd, her eyes were practically fixed on the man from the bridge. He was drunk, that’s for sure. There was no restraint from such excess and free drink. Yet despite the laughter and the songs… He looked at her for a moment, almost directly at her, and in that moment she could see the lines of sorrow on his face. His eyes didn’t contain any sort of twinkle of real joy, and his posture was slouched in defeat, not just from lack of balance from the drink.

That moment sent a shiver down her spine, yet the revelries grew even louder. She looked at her small flower and then at the black sun high in the sky. This was not just some parlour trick. It had been real. All her heart and soul told her that.

Through some sort of divine connection, she had witnessed a most basic and pure act of betrayal.

[Alija]

GRADES WITHHELD

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