Chapter: Love that was left Behind

The party was winding down as the crickets songs filled the cooling evening air. The pleasant chatter of guests from all walks of life adding a backdrop to the conversation held at the main table. Sitting atop the new mezzanine that now lined the face of the bluffs in low three tiers. Built predominantly for the Goblins and the Dwarves that slowly began calling the village home. It did however, consider those of height, mainly humans.

Each level filled to bursting with tables and arcane lanterns, the Dwarves had been spending the last few months teaching the Goblins on stonework and structural elements. The passing of hammer and chisel to the Goblins had lent them the knowledge and ability to craft a true city, one of the elements that High Priestess Ilgor had wanted in the deal made with King Berthelot.

Notable attendees from the Mhuzulti Empire as well as the Dwarven Wandering State commingled in this neutral territory. Their own squabbles and issues left at the gates of the village, Ilgor allowing no conflict inside her walls. As Glaion had the Pomerium, a line in the sand that left all at the door so to speak. Galuses culture and Military being the enforcers of this tradition, Ilgor was harsher.

Only one incident had occurred at the start of the Gala. A Dwarven Noble and a Mhuzelti Courtsman had begun arguing at the gates over their eons old War spanning as far back as written history. Lucas and the Goblin Raiders had interjected to make sure that all knew the law inside the village. However, Ilgor had strolled over, with but a whisper Silenced all within a half mile.

Her voice; the only thing audible, no bird song, no wind through the trees, not even the chirp of a mouse. She spoke to them, magic arcing across her skin in rage. "Under no circumstance will anyone treat each other with disrespect within the Village. You will honor our traditions, you will honor our law of everyone is family. You will not speak down to anyone inside my walls, am I clear?" Her voice was heavy in that moment, a physical weight to it.

When the Gnome had tried to speak in anger, she branded him with a rune. A rune that reads simply, disrespect. It seared into the Gnome's hand, in the same quick use of power she healed it, a thin barely visible scar forever etched into his skin. In a show of consideration to the Gnomish Courtsman, she gave him a glove to wear over his hand. Sparing him the shame of having been the first to break one of her laws.

After the incident, there were no other issues. The Gala having gone off swimmingly, being held in the main square of the village. Gnomes and Dwarves behaving amicably, even to the point of new discussions being had of talks of peace between the two nations. Ilgor had been dragged from conversation to conversation chatting politics, magic, philosophy and any topic under the sun. Her long lessons with The Sorcerer and Gjorn finally paying dividends to her political status in Galus.

The event was filled with lively dances and rich food. Many cultural motifs of Galus and the Dwarves on showcase. Decadent desserts made of the fruits of Galus and its fertile farmlands and vineyards. Hearty meals of the Dwarves, meats cooked to perfection, glazed in sweet sauces. Accented by exotic spices that wafted through the air like a sibilant song.

Though this whole event was requested by Berthelot as he wanted to try and smooth things over with the Goblins. The events of the past left a sour taste in the mouths of his own citizens, the skirmish that had claimed nearly a quarter of the lives of the Goblins. The Citizens' outcry at this despite them having caused the new war with the Caliphate, was turning into a PR nightmare for him. The Dwarves stepping in and giving the Goblins the full protection their nation had to offer, courtesy of Gjorn, did not help his own case.

The Dwarves were highly respected inside the nation of Galus, and a close knit ally to them to add insult to injury. Them stepping in the way of Glaion's fury only highlighted the overreaction in the minds of the people. Thus, after the Dwarves had begun rebuilding their people and teaching them the skills needed to raise a proper settlement solidified the animosity to the King felt by the people. Lucas in the weeks following the Skirmish with the Goblins, extended a branch of peace, offering resources and trade to stimulate their growth.

After all this time, their walls were nearly complete, their homes comfortable and welcoming. Lucas had deemed it necessary to try and spin this effort into a good light for himself and his Court. He had proposed this Gala as a showcase for the Goblins and their culture. As well as to show the goodwill of the Dwarves and their willingness to aid those in need. However, unaware he was of why Gjorn had threatened war with Galus over the Goblins. The Dwarven King had higher powers to answer to.

A courtsman of the Galus political faction had told all this to the group seated near the edge of the mezzanine some hours ago. Cori, Knoll, Ghet and King Halgier seated discussing the information as the night progressed. "So, this show of wealth and support is all to repair his image." Knoll commented as he sipped from a heavy glass of thick Mhuzelti spirit.

"I can't say I'm honestly surprised. Quite a few very notable individuals having shown up over the last few Seasons, only put his orders to attack you all in even worse light. The Necromancer having made her residence here, Ilgor being a particular interest of The Sage of Huron: Emily Von Eule. I mean she is a true war heroine of Huron, an important ally to have all things considered." Halgier answered, setting his stein of beer on the table.

"Well it helps that a certain Dwarven King has taken an interest in our darling Priestess as well." Cori prodded, swirling her own drink in her hand.

"Well..." Halgier said, raising his stein back to his lips to hide his reddening cheeks. "It certainly gives me motivation to protect the village." He changed the subject quickly, "We have seen you two fight in duels with the Knights. We have heard the songs as well as a full look into your peoples faith during this little festival of nations. We have showcased our artwork and design philosophy with your walls and settlements. We have seen the cultural intricacies of Galus culinarily speaking tonight. What is going to be the capstone to all this?"

The three Goblins looked away, Knoll's darkening bruise of his face from where he had taken a gauntleted punch from a knight only moments before downing the much larger opponent with a quick sweep of his legs and a chop to his neck. Cori's messy hair tangled from her fast paced sparring with six different opponents at the same time. Ghet turned pale, his voice horse from recounting the Clan's history over the long day.

"What's with this hesitation?" Halgier asked, puzzled look on his face.

"Illy wanted to show everyone how we honor our dead. A ceremony we do not take lightly, something meant for our eyes and our hearts alone. She said it would humanize us in the eyes of the Nations, that we are not the raiding savages that we are still believed to be in some parts of Galus." Cori spoke, her drink abandoned.

"What is this ritual, it isn't graphic is it?" He asked the three.

"We call it... I'm sorry I'm trying to find the words in common for it. We call it The Ritual of the Stars" Ghet answered slowly, though his accent was still thick to Halgier ears, his common was getting much better day by day as he was forced to use it repeatedly. "Ilgor is going to choose a keystone from the cairn of the graves in the main chamber, and offer a prayer to it. Hopefully the fallen will be able to see the stars once more, to rest easy knowing the family hasn't forgotten them. Allowing them to see the skies we find so much peace in, once more." He finished.

Halgier noticed that Gjorn had leaned against the railing of the stonework overlooking the beach below. Strumming softly on his Zitar, if he hadn't been looking for it he would have missed what he was doing. The few clouds left lingering in the setting sun, lit like fire in the fading light, began moving away. Allowing a clear night sky for the event. "It's starting soon then, he said flicking his eyes down to a timepiece in his pocket."

Movement to his left caught his attention, a familiar face to Halgier, came and sat beside the little party. Raising his glass in acknowledgement of the three Goblins. "'Ello, my name is Rhin Rhojic, I am The Warlord's Captain of the Warboars, his Vanguard fighting force. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

Halgier answered for them, with each name Rhin felt a little more out of his depth, not expecting to have invited himself to the seat of Ilgor's inner council. "This is Ghet, head of Skullbrood diplomatic relations. Cori, Ilgor's personal Guard and advisor. Knoll, Captain of the Village Guard. Do you know who's keystone she picked for the event?" He said directing the question to the Goblins.

"No, she kept that piece of information to herself. I'm assuming it is going to be someone influential to our past, maybe a past Chief or one of the ancient Priestesses." Ghet answered, taking a long pull from the cigar in his hand. The cinnamon smelling smoke filling the table.

Halgier noted Alorez sitting down on the beach. The Necromancer had set up a small circle of candles around herself, scribbling runes into the sand with the help of that little girl the denizens of Skjalich had given her. He wondered if she treated her well, having heard she was an outcast by the people of the ruins. Though these past few weeks, he always saw her happily chattering away with the Witch. He only assumed she did. He also wondered why the Necromancer was taking such a front stage to this ceremony. Noting a small change in tone from Gjorn's Zitar, a soft and somber song filling the mezzanine.

The beach below them had a small sitting area ringed with hundreds of candles, names scratched into the wax by the Goblins. A trio of chairs having been set up with a very rare bottle of Dwarven brandy given to Ilgor for the event by the Wandering States. "I thought this was meant to be a one on one thing. So why are there three chairs?" Rhin asked, having been given a brief run down of the ceremony days prior to the Gala.

"I don't..." Halgier was cut off by the amplified voice of King Berthelot speaking to the audience that had gathered by the three levels of cliff faces.

"This event has been a pleasure to attend, here we were given the full opportunity to witness the Goblins and their culture. Their work to incorporate themselves into our societies, they have been working tirelessly with the Dwarves to build this beautiful village you all see now. We have seen that they are not the monsters that we thought them to be, only misled by shortsighted individuals!" He raised his glass of wine, turning to address the crowd proper.   "We have been given witness to their kindness, their graciousness. I can tell you this, I have never been treated like a member of someone else's family like they have treated me as well as you all. I had no notion that they were such a welcoming and heartwarming group. I know some of you may harbor resentment for their continued worship of Bhal and his endless ambition. However, I beseech you all. Do not harbor them ill will, as their belief is not the same as the Caliphate, nor any rendition of it before known now. I have had many enlightening conversations today with the various members of the foreign delegations as well as the members of the Family here."   "What I can tell you is this, Ilgor of the Skullbrood Clan is going to be an immense historical figure. Her vision for the future of her people, her aptitude for diplomacy and trade, as well as her might in magic, are going to lead her people to a Golden Age! We can but look on in optimism to see where her vision will take the Goblins! We have nothing but benefit to work with her and her people, their ability and their worth to us is not measured in gold."   "Let us see now and understand the lives of their fallen. This ritual conducted by the High Priestess herself is a deeply sentimental one to the Goblins. We should feel honored that Ilgor has allowed us a glimpse into this intimate aspect of their culture. This ceremony is meant to allow their fallen to see the skies once more, and to be spoken to like the family they are. To make them feel alive once again, to know that their family has not forgotten them in the slightest. To the Goblins, the open skies are a comfort, a connection to the family sacred."   "Without further ado, Accueille-la!"

He turned, pressing a button to extinguish all the arcane lanterns lining the village. Plunging the settlement and Gala into a soft darkness, as all their eyes adjusted, the full glory of the skies above them made itself known. A dazzling array of colors from the slowing shifting nebulas, backlit by the countless stars and constellations. The low curious murmurs of the guests spilled out over the rails as the small party at the table got up and made their way to the balcony.

Halgier whistled, Ilgor had gone all out for this ceremony. Her small form moved slowly holding two keystones in her arms. Her dress, newly tailored by the women of the clan. The simple white garment slit up the sides revealing her legs, stitched in gold thread. Though this isn't what had elicited his response, it wasn't that her long braid dragged in the sand behind her, woven in with brass beads. It wasn't that her hair was flawless to his eyes, silky and bouncing softly with each step.

It was the fact that every inch of her skin was painted in intricate runes used by the Family. Runes of power, family, dreams, memories, air. Each one glowing softly as she hummed a mournful tune that drowned out all sound around her. Reaching the trio of seats she gently set the keystones down on the cushions of the chairs.

Just before she opened her mouth to begin her prayer, the runes on her skin glowed far brighter than before. The pleasant sound of Gjorn's Zitar filling the air to accompany her own song in harmony. A thin stream of white lined power tracing its way from the Necromancer to Ilgor. She turned and looked at both of them, a small touched smile graced her pretty face. Eyes glowing dimly in the darkness on the beach. The ever constant crash of waves, the drum beat to the song she sang.

"Time echoes forward as we wade through our battles, each day regaining a renewed sense of purpose. Oh Mother and Father of mine, have you rested well? Has the Great Father in his graciousness treated you kindly? Please tell me about your minds." Her prayer held a palpable weight, the world itself seemed to hold its breath while the magic filled the keystones.

Halgier heard Ghet mutter to himself, "Mother and Father of mine..." Turning he saw the old Goblin had gone pale, a lifetime of regret visible in his eyes as tears welled up in them.

"To those who have fallen, Family dearest to us, see now that we wish to welcome you home once more. Tek, Ysry. Speak to your daughter once more as you had in life." Her voice warbled as she spoke, as if she were fighting back tears.

An explosion of murmurs bubbled out from all the Goblins present at the names she spoke. "Who are Tek and Ysry?" Rhin asked.

Cori who had stifled a gasp at the names, covering her mouth with her hands as tears fell from her face. "Tek is her Father, Ysry is her Mother." Both Cori and Knoll turned their heads to Ghet, an expression Halgier didn't quite recognise. Something not quite blame, not quite accepting, closer to grief. Halgier looked over to the old man expectantly.

"They were my raiders, I'm the reason her and so many other children are orphans." Ghet whispered, not trusting himself to say much more. Halgier's brows shot up in surprise, though, anything anyone would have said was cut off by the two spirits that had appeared on the beach below. Only a stunned silence filled the village, they were all told that a physical manifestation of the fallen would be exceptionally rare.

Halgier only nodded as he now understood why the Necromancer and Gjorn were pouring an unimaginable amount of magic into the ceremony. A gift, a real and truly altruistic gift to her. The two spirits were the same as the night sky, only their eyes being distinguishable from the stars. The cosmos given form, a call from beyond distant shores. The woman had the same build as Ilgor, the same face. While the man had her eyes, almost identically. Ilgor faltered, trying to find the words to speak.

She was spared having to find the words though as both the spirits embraced her. Lifting her up in their arms, the wind picked up as the Tek played with her long hair. Yrsy planting kisses on her wet cheeks. Words and phrases drifted on the wind as the touching moment hit the hearts of all the onlookers. "Are you proud of me?" "What do you think of what I have done with the Clan?" "How could we not be proud?" "We missed you".

The moment backlit by the heartbreaking knowledge that this was but a single moment, not a reunion. Most of the Court, over the brief spells of having her inside the political spheres, had learned she was an orphan. Having been raised mostly by the former High Priestess, apparently she had lost them young.

To most, this would have meant that she never had time to truly grow attached to them. However, as the Gala progressed, a certain understanding was made evident to all the guests. The Clan was, is, a very tightly woven fabric built on connection and family. A child to grow up having heard of their parents their entire life, would still feel that same closeness even if they weren’t alive. There was a feeling of abject shock at hearing that information, he had seen it a few times tonight. A single loss to the Goblins was a horrifying tragedy, so to be shown something like this?

Looking around, he did not see a dry eye in the crowd, open mouthed stares from the non-Goblin attendees at the might of the ceremony. An opportunity to speak with the dead like this was, at least to common belief, restricted only to the abilities of the gods and Alorez who sat on the beach. "I think she got the effect she wanted. Humanize the Goblins she did." Halgier whispered, not wanting to interrupt the moment happening before him.

He heard Ghet whisper so quietly that he thought he was the only one to hear, though fully believing that he intended for no one to hear it. "I took this from her." The elder Goblin was the visage of remorse, his heart visibly breaking to the King's eyes. All he could do, having heard rumors of the event in question, was set a heavy steadying hand on the old man's shoulder. Words would do nothing.