The room had chilled as non-Dhrami were herded towards the outside. Right at the exit, Da Hote led most of these efforts as he gave out a variety of hugs and shaking of hands. However, as the Dhrami were the only one’s left inside, glints of light & the cnking of expensive armor summoned Mahal’s attention.

  “Sir Da Hote,” the Captain spewed a thinly-veiled sense of disgust as he said his name, “I’m under direct order from the Elven Admiralty to act as witness for your Dhramian... rituals, as your kind would say,”

  “I’d like to affirm that I’m an advocate for developing an understanding other cultures,” Da Hote studied the captain from head to toe as he continued, “but a smart, well-mannered, and respectable person would have a royal decree of their government before becoming involved, wouldn’t you concur?”

  “I’m not here for a battle of wits, old man. Let my men and I through, and we’ll both have a sound night”. As the Captain said this, Mahal watched as a team of elves gathered in formation behind him. They all dressed in long and drooping robes, which were flooded in a midnight blue hue. Each was adorned with a set of decorative stars that sparked in the light, but became smaller as they went up the robe.

  “No” Da Hote then stared bnkly at the Captain.

  The Captain walked to where only a few inches separated them, “I have given respect to your station, despite how idiotic it may be. Despite your insubordination, I would not have you kneel. And perhaps most mercifully, despite the Dhramian ooze, I choose to recognize the Elven ichor within you”

  Guests who were near the door froze for a second, before quickly moving out of the premises. Some Dhrami, especially the younger ones, couldn’t help but stare at Da Hote. Some did so in horror, others as something altogether alien.

  Mahal heard stories of people known as ‘half-breeds’, a term he learned about when he and his father were in a Halfling port. He had seen a Dhrami adult that was shorter than him in that port when the conversation happened. His people never used the term, but he guessed that didn’t extend to other races.

  As both of them went back and forth, Mahal watched as his father neared the Captain. “I am all the more blessed to share the same blood-”

  “Save that shit for those who care, Sir”

  Mahal’s father took one of the loose rocks, before swinging it widely at the captain. Da Hote caught Marcio at one second, before tossing himself in the midst in the next. The stone cshed right with Da Hote’s cheek bones.

  “Steel yourself, Marcio!” Da Hote’s breathing was bored as he brought his hand up. Softly chanting, a soft green rune glowed on his cheek, slowly closing the wound. “And Captain Il’n, as one who shares the same wasted potential of the elves, I’ll gift you a singur line of advice: Trotil I, ikil rukiscolo ti il Ilici pili”.

  The Captain back-stepped as he unsheathed his bde. Mahal could tell it was a brilliant sword, even from the back of the temple. The Slight curve of shape, the handle, and even the bance seemed to meld with the Captain and how Mahal guessed he fought.

  “I’m happy to see the sword, Captain Il’n. I remember when your father asked me to make it two inches longer to be more proportional with your predicted height. If memory serves, I correctly predicted you’d be shorter, just like your temper”

  The Captain let his face bend down as he stayed silent. Holding his stance, he kept his sword forward, but only slightly. The end drooped down towards the ground. Da Hote held the pommel of his sword, but kept a rexed handle on it.

  However, with the moonlight lighting up the isnd in a more clear light, and the waves now calm, Mahal watched as the Dhrami, one by one, inside the temple arose as they gathered near the front. The Elder led the effort as she took out her wand, and stood with Mahal’s father and Da Hote.

  Both sides stood still, neither one willing to become the aggressor fully. In one moment, it seemed like the Isnd was about to explode into war. But in the next, one of the cloaked figures walked forward. First looking at Da Hote, they then met Mahal’s gaze. It felt like a ray of heat was centered on Mahal as he met the fiery-yellow eyes.He couldn’t see a face, or anything else for that matter. The eyes. He kept coming back to them, they felt there was power behind them, it wasn’t Elven. But he could only afford to sustain it for a moment, before feeling like his eyes were burning just from a single look.

  “War this early, Captain?” the words came out honeyed, yet Mahal instinctively kept his guard up. He could feel the power behind the words, the magic that incidentally seeped from them.

  “Kil’yan,” It was a memory Mahal would tch on to for a long time, watching as the captain reluctantly bowed to her. He looked at her, and whispered “Ignore the filth, and they’ll crash like a tidal wave onto the main nd”

  “Behave, little ember. I didn’t ask you to py warrior today, just to look it”

  The Captain continued to fix his focus to the ground, before sheathing his sword, and turning about as he walked away. He and some of his men then sat near the docks, and sustained a lingering gnce towards the Dhami and their temple, but nothing more.

  The cloaked figure turned to Da Hote and summoned him forth. Inching forward, Mahal watched as Da Hote first looked at her with suspicion, before his face shifted into an almost pasty white.

  He tried desperately to listen in, but the words traveled through mush to Mahal’s ears. But Da Hote’s posture continued to remain straight, and his attention seemed affixed. In addition, Da Hote no longer held the butt of his sword. But whatever they had said was lost to the wind.

  “I apologize to you all. May your night be peaceful” The cloaked figure said as she nodded slightly. When her head came up, Mahal again found himself staring at the same blinding yellow eyes. But instead of an empty void, silked and smooth words surrounded his mind.“Mahal Ato Auroret of the Dhrami, steel yourself, and I shall ensure brighter days are ahead”

  The cloaked figure turned and then walked away, with the researchers following in-tow. The temple was now silent, and with it, everyone started to recede into the floor. The Elder chanted “Kankor Buwa”, changing the lights from the silver of before, to a dark red maroon.“Marcio Aurao Auroret, and Mahal Ato Auroret, come forward” the Elder said as she stowed her wand as both came over and bowed.

  “The ritual must not be deyed further. The Elves will not be silenced for long”

  “Yes, Elder” Mahal’s father agreed as both he and her walked briskly to the front. Mahal walked forward but slowly. He had hoped that somehow, both of them would forget to perform the Murkna, but now, it could not be avoided.

  Mahal watched as the Elder chanted in Maharian, more so than he knew existed. As she did, stone pilrs rose from the floor. Four were risen in total, each with words etched into each stone, which also revealed the faded blue inside of the stones as well.“Mahal Ato Auroret, come forward, and cim your destined path”

  He followed the instructions, before staring at his father. Tears were welling up in his eyes as he mouthed the words, ‘I love you, son’. Mahal wished at that moment, that some sort of rain would come and cover his own tears. He willed himself forward, forcing his legs to comply with his duty.

  “Take out your wand, Mahal, and be prepared to repeat after me” the Elder said as she held a small, aged, leather bound book. As he did, the Elder continued, “Ip kaknor dilka ab ma mukali, il ip palidor ir pak creta buwari”, and Mahal followed, word for word. As he did, a small and pulsing blue arcane light created a path to all four stones. With it, the text on each stone started to glow in the same soft blue.

  He looked to his father. The soft glow of the magic came and went much like the waves against nd. His crease lines, the almost completely healed scars, every dimple, all of it was clear. Mahal had never studied his father much before. He knew what his own father looked like, of course. But he realized that despite all the mulling over various details on swords, axes, and other pieces he had made in the past, he had never had a terribly close look at his father before this.

  He was an old man. This was the complete image of his father.

  As Mahal sat there, he felt a hand take his left, before another hand completely surrounded his hand. He felt a gentle but firm squeeze from his father, who now closed his eyes as he smiled. Tears still seared his father’s and his own cheeks as the elder said, and Mahal followed,

  “Ip majilor ahoni ma, daga palor melidor ikig naga”

  The text shifted to the same dark red maroon from the nterns, as it now masked parts of his father’s face. Mahal held his father’s hands tighter as the storming in his body and mind tried to compel him to do anything else.

  “Ip muka ab ma, ilir panir bukr nesa ahono nir akil naga” the Elder said as she held her hands up high. However, she looked over to Mahal, who had his eyes closed as his hands shook.The elder again said the line, saying it slowly as she closed her eyes. But Mahal’s voice refused. His body stiffened.The Elder whispered, “What are you doing, Mahal?”

  “I-I…”

  As this was going on, voices near the front of the temple started mummering. Before Mahal could even chance a look, a familiar cnking of steel on steel neared, followed by multitudes of other steel pted individuals.

  “What is this? Are these the infamous blood rituals?! How many have been killed by you barbarians!”Dozens of the Dhrami started to stand up, and pushed against the groups of Elven soldiers as the Elder grabbed Mahal’s head, spinning it to face her “Finish the ritual, Mahal. Repeat after me: “Ip muka,”

  “I-Ip muka,”

  “ab ma”

  “Ab…” Mahal’s heart actively hammered his chest, his grip now the only thing keeping him up.

  “Ab ma,”

  “...I can’t, I can’t!”

  The Elder held the top of his head with an iron grip as the chaos in the background kicked up. Spells and swords cshed, with the Elves slowly pushing back against the Dhramian crowd.“You must Mahal, you have to!”

  Mahal wanted to say something, anything. But as his words abandoned him, he felt his father’s grip loosen. A spt of blood coated his face and body, and a huge thud rung out against the ground, as it echoed in his ears. Mahal turned around he saw as the Elven captain held his wand in front of him, and wisps of blue magic dissipating from around his wand.

  He stood there.