Many of the initiates thought that Betzal's disappearance from Aric's shoulder boded ill for Semnemac. The large raven left the Shepherd's side immediately after the morning rituals- he came after Aric called him, but only to leave again, so Aric calmly left the catacombs without him. Instead of accompanying the man in whose room he suddenly appeared the night after his own initiation, Betzal elected to spend time with Niku and Silveredge. While Shanna and Sakhma both attempted to convince their own people and the gathered Firebirds that Betzal had always gone where he pleased, the catacombs were even more silent than usual.
Silveredge was deeply concerned about moving forward with her induction into the fold of the Raven Queen without Svaentok, but Shanna explained that because he was not her direct elder- as he would have been, had she chosen the monastic path- his absence would be of not consequence to her. Still, the Shadar kai was uncomfortable with the step, and it showed- until Betzal appeared to make every attempt at preparation more challenging than normal for her. The completely black dress got picked at, talons kept getting wound into her hair, and Niku was consistently pestered with wings flapping in his face. He strangely knew better than to snap at the large bird, but Silveredge still spent time putting her hands over his muzzle so that his barking would not echo throughout the halls. Eventually, she had to stop giving so much thought to concerns about Svaentok in order to get anything ready for her own step onto the unfamiliar path of spirituality.
The day burned quickly into sunset, filled with activity and preparation. Black feathers were gathered, then handed to each initiate. Willow branches were cut to be strewn along the path to the sacred space on the second level, and torches were dyed black and tied with deep, royal purple ribbons for the mage initiates. Martial initiates lined the catacombs, their weapons cleaned for the occasion. Monastic initiates meditated in the central sacred space, seated in a circle with their palms upraised to encourage openness. Sakhma had encouraged them to dedicate any spare thoughts to Svaentok, which caused a few worried tears at first. Aric, who had been obviously tested by his early morning summons to the Bone College, had been encouraged to rest when he arrived back at the bustling catacombs, but he insisted in having as strong a presence as he would have in any other initiation ceremony. He took a nap when he was certain that the sacred space was spiritually balanced, then reentered it to sprinkle it with ashes afterward just to be sure. To calm the fears of those who were deeply pricked by Svaentok's absence, he took a moment to lead a mediation centered on the direction of his fate, whatever that may ultimately become.
Once Silveredge had been dressed in the long-sleeved, empire-waist dress with long train, she had been led out of the catacombs and not allowed to return. Her long silver hair had been washed, trimmed and braided back so that her face could clearly be seen. This had the startling effect of showing off her slave ring piercing, which no one knew how to safely remove. Silveredge suggested simply braiding back the hair near her face and leaving the rest of it to veil the piercing, but when Aric asked her, via he courier who scampered back and forth between the shore and the catacombs, who she was hiding from, she smiled shyly and sent word that she would allow her hair to remain as it was. Much of her time since then had been spent in meditation, during which she seemed to take comfort in the rolling of the sea tide as it ate away at the sand near her bare feet. Niku, who seemed to be aware that this was an important moment in her life, refused to be separated from her for a moment. He lay at her feet, refusing food, water and attention from all others.
When the moon rose, Vhalan appeared behind Silveredge suddenly enough to spook Niku for a few seconds. He barked a few times, putting himself between the vampire and Silveredge. Vaguely amused, Vhalan squatted down in the sand for a few moments so that Niku could sniff him. Beyond him, eight warrior initiates, eight mage initiates and eight monastic initiates waited, their weapons reflecting the moonlight and their dyed torches illuminating their encouraging faces.
"I promise you, pup, I've not changed since the last time you checked for warm blood," Vhalan sniped quietly. When Niku sat down, satisfied but still watchful, Vhalan stood up and offered the hand that Niku had so closely inspected to Silveredge. "Come, seeker."
Silveredge, who had gotten up the moment Niku began barking, first curtsied, then took Vhalan's hand. She fastened her platinum eyes on his own infliction-tainted ones, eliciting a smirk from him. The two walked up the beach, led by the large hound until they reached the first of the initiates, who parted in half to make way for them. As they passed, they fell into a line behind them, softly chanting until they reached the top of the beach, where Vhalan turned and placed a blindfold on Silveredge. Both couldn't help but smile at the strangeness of it- normally, it was Vhalan who was left blindfolded in his room after a feral episode. This night, the vampire calmly led the warm blooded Shadar Kai down into the catacombs, trailed by Niku, who somehow knew that he couldn't run in front of them any longer. When the pair arrived at Shanna, who was standing at the first warrior's post, she positioned Silveredge's arms so that they would be a cradle before her, then laid something heavy and covered in velvet into them. Vhalan placed his hand at her elbow as Shanna turned and preceded Vhalan into the central sacred area.
"Who enters this sacred place?"
Silveredge caught her breath, stunned at the full force of Aric's rich tenor voice. The vibrations seemed to sink into her skin and rattle in her bones.
Vhalan let go of Silveredge's arm and knelt, his features made all the more gaunt by the flickering light of the torches held by the initiates. "I, Elder Vhalan, Lord of the Warriors, bring to you this seeker, who wishes to know the chill of winter, the weight of the thread of fate, and the gates of death. She wishes to use her talents for the honor of the Raven Queen, and for the betterment of all creatures. I have tested and seen the beauty of her soul; now, let her speak for herself."
"Seeker," Aric called, sending a shockwave through Silveredge's bones, "the elder has ushered you into my presence, and into the sight of the Raven Queen. By what name shall you be known unto me, and unto Her?"
"Jyklihaimra," Silveredge replied without a second thought. In seconds, she heard the shimmering sound of chains, then suddenly felt the piercing of talons into her right shoulder. Behind the blindfold, she squeezed her eyelids slightly- though she was used to many different types of pain, Betzal's talons were somehow more difficult to tolerate.
"Seeker, the Raven Queen has opened her hands to you. Step forward, as into the throne room of Letherna. Let the elder who has taken your soul in his hands now take his place in the inner circle."
Silveredge waited for a few moments, thinking that someone would usher her forward, but realized that she would have to carefully make it to Aric on her own. Betzal shifted on her shoulder, squeezing his talons slightly. Her heart quickened as she took one tentative step forward, then another, then another, and still another. Then suddenly, she remembered the look of the room in which she had seen the woman who was surrounded with chains, and as she did, the memory stretched itself into a vision. At the dais, the woman- the Raven Queen- stood, surrounded by the many ravens that had cawed at Silveredge's presence when she first entered. The Raven Queen's arms, still laced with chains that sprung from her skin and wrapped around her like vine tendrils on a sturdy tree, stood open, and she slowly nodded just once, her dark tresses tumbling around her shoulders as she did. Silveredge moved forward, hearing the willow branches scrape the walls as they dragged in the train behind her dress. After a few moments, she could hear Vhalan's footsteps- a whispery sound, just before her own quiet footfalls, and she used them to help her avoid bumping into a wall or an initiate. To the world behind her closed eyes, it seemed as though she were descending from the back of Letherna, past the black flames and the chain bedecked pillars, under the leaf-less trees filled with curious dark birds, and toward the pale skinned Queen. It seemed the goddess of fate and winter was prepared for the event, with her black tresses pulled away from her face into a cascade that flowed behind her back, and a jagged, perfectly carved crystal crown gleaming as it thrust angular arms into the air around her. It seemed as though she had pulled icicles down from the parapets of Letherna and set them onto her head.
"Seeker, before you come out of the glare of the outside world into the dark silence of the Queen's knowledge, are you prepared to be purified?" Aric asked, his voice seeming to come at Silveredge from all sides of the palace in Silveredge's vision. She stopped moving forward, but resisted the urge to look around herself in the attempt to find him. The Queen lowered her arms to her sides, looking Silveredge over with a stern gaze.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Before her, the Queen raised an eyebrow, and Silveredge wondered if her response had been distastefully weak. She had to resist the first tell-tale belly quivers of fear.
"Elder Sakhma, proceed with the blessing of the elements."
The inner circle suddenly materialized in the vision- Aric standing just to one side of the Queen, Vhalan and Sakhma. Sakhma rose from her place, turning behind her to take a bowl from the consecrated table on the right side of the large cauldron. "Water," she proclaimed simply as she flicked cool water from the bowl to Silveredge three times. "The first element; let the seeker be cleansed. Fire-"
Silveredge closed her eyes behind the blindfold, expecting to be engulfed with a balefire spell, but instead heard the creak of the chains of a censor being waved in front of her, then on either side of her. Feeling a little silly, she opened her eyes behind the blindfold again, and the vision engulfed her immediately.
"The second element, let the seeker be cleansed. Earth-"
Sakhma moved toward her quickly, and Silveredge felt crumbly dirt being rubbed on her right cheek, then her left, then on her forehead. She sneezed, and Betzal shifted on her shoulder again. Silveredge, wincing, wondered if his talons had yet drawn blood.
"The third element, let the seeker be cleansed. Breath-" Sakhma leaned forward and breathed lightly into Silveredge's face. "The fourth element, let the seeker be cleansed. Bathed of water, warmed of fire, clothed in earth, given life in breath; let the seeker find her true path, her final home, her blessed thread. So may it be."
"So may it be," everyone in the sacred space replied. The voices seemed to vibrate in the vision, blurring it slightly, then bringing it into an even stronger focus than before. Silveredge saw each person in the gathering in it- and above them, the ravens in the branches of the bare trees looked down lovingly. Svaentok, whose place in the inner circle was conspicuously empty, had been paid homage with a sewn image of the House of Yrel-Ades laid atop two of his favorite books. But Silveredge could see a spectral image of him sitting crosslegged with palms upraised and closed eyes- as though he were meditating, as he would normally have been doing early in the evening. When she looked up from the image to the Raven Queen, a knowing smile crossed the pale woman's face.
At that second, Silveredge knew that Svaentok was alive, and could have burst with the desire to speak right to his image, or to touch it. The image of the Raven Queen lifted her right hand, fingers curled, and moved it downward slightly, and Betzal turned his head into her dirt-crusted cheek, nuzzling against her comfortingly.
"By joining us, you joyously enter the serene circle; you walk with those who value life, and welcome death. Hear us, Nameless Matron, Lady of Fate, Spinner of Winter. Give ear, all you who have gone before us into the halls of Letherna. Look up, dedicants, initiates and elders gathered. Here among you stands Jyklihaimra, who will put her feet in your path and her mind to learning the way. Guide her, encourage her, strengthen her, protect her, and love her, with all of your beings." Aric moved away from the dias, picked the cloth out of Silveredge's arms and handed it off to Vhalan, who got up and placed it on the consecrated table. While he worked with it, Aric turned back to Silveredge and opened his arms. "Are you willing and able to uphold the ways of this gathering of followers?"
"I am," Silveredge replied, with much more of her voice than before. At her feet, somewhere behind her, she could hear Niku giving that whine that happened just before a full blown bark, and wondered if someone new were entering the space.
"Will you allow us to bear witness on this night to the first step of your journey, to become part of your spiritual family, and to give you the best of our love and understandings?"
"Yes."
"Then go forth, Jyklihaimra, and be welcome forever under the wings of the Raven Queen. You walk no more a seeker, but a dedicant of this place. Let the Elder whose path you will walk now give unto you the blessing of his house, and the implement blessed on your behalf."
Betzal opened his wings and took off, pulling the blindfold off as he did. The vision dissipated, and Silveredge opened her eyes to find Aric standing just behind Vhalan, who presented her with a highly polished spiked chain- different from the one that she had seen in her first vision of the Raven Queen only in that it seemed heavier, and capable of doing serious damage.
"I, Vhalan, Elder of the Warriors and sole chain master, give you this weapon, that it may become a clawed extension of your arm. May you send many souls before you through the gates of death," Vhalan said smilingly. "This implement was chosen by Shepherd Aric for you, for he understood that the Queen has made it to sound in your mind from the very first day that you arrived here. The chain is a symbol of acceptance of the strength of fate, and the Queen's ability to wind it as she sees fit- to prevent a falling, or to ensnare us; to crush us, or to embrace us. May it and your ever-learning, merciful heart be greater benefits to you than can now be assessed. Use your implement wisely, lamb." Vhalan watched as Silveredge accepted it into her arms, then kissed her hand and turned away quickly.
"Welcome, Dedicant Jyklihaimra," Aric soothed, lowering his voice to its normal, calm rasp, "May your path be blessed." He moved forward slowly, hugged her, then kissed her on both cheeks. Betzal came to rest on his shoulder as he backed away, comfortably lodging his talons in the worn spots in his robe. The assembly seemed to collectively breathe a sigh of relief as they all arose from their places in the large, circular ceremonial space to embrace her before they returned to their normal duties or meditations. Sakhma sighed as she picked up Svaentok's books and family crest, then turned away to put them in his room, just a bit farther down toward the catacombs that were still being carved and cleansed. Niku barked, and Silveredge turned over her shoulder to see that Deadriver was nearly physically holding back a male nearly twice his size.
Aric noticed Deadriver's struggle as well, encouraging those initiates who were slow to leave to move a bit faster. "It is good to find moments of rejoicing in the midst of concern or sorrow- come, Deadriver, you can let him in now."
"Why did that take so long?" the male instantly demanded, sending a few initiates skittering from him as he pushed his way past Deadriver and into the central area. Niku shot from the arms of the initiate who had been holding him and straight to Silveredge's side at once, snarling at the ruddy skinned male as though he would soon attack. Silveredge sunk to the floor, wrapping her arms around the hound in an effort to calm him down again. Vhalan, for his part, reacted rather similarly to him, hissing through bared teeth. Shanna, immediately concerned, bounded forward to blindfold him.
"Respect their space, Smokedog, c'mon!" Deadriver prompted. "You can't tell an initiation when you see one? And you disturbed the blood brother-"
"You feel okay with holding long-winded ceremonies?" the large Human scoffed. "Are you missing a ranking member or aren't you?"
"That- thing- has a greater need for a leash than the hound," Vhalan spat, crossing his arms in a rather obvious attempt to control himself. "What has his handler to say?"
"Respect, Elder Vhalan," Aric smiled, looking from Vhalan to the male- whose name was apparently Smokedog. "I shall speak to the male who has done the reconnaissance. Now, sir, what information have you for us concerning Elder Svaentok's location?"
"Nasty. Looks like it's been hit with a blight. I saw plants out there that I've never seen anywhere else- and it smells like death," Smokedog replied, still glaring at Vhalan.
"As long as it doesn't smell like undeath, Svaentok does admirably well," Vhalan reasoned, purposefully directing his comment to Aric.
"Not willing to share your prestigious position with any of the other corpses around here?" Smokedog shot, moving toward Vhalan menacingly.
"Come on, brother, you know that ain't right to say to him," Deadriver groaned. "How'd you like it if some jerk talked to Snakesoul that way?"
Vhalan, unimpressed, simply snorted. "The trappings of my office have come at a cost beyond your pitiful comprehension, mortal."
Oakarm, accompanied by a returning Ironfeather, poked his head around the corner, catching Deadriver's attention at once. Upon receiving the direct attention of the Shepherd, Oakarm stopped in the entrance archway as though frozen solid. Darelove followed closely behind him, so that she almost crashed into him when he began to attempt to give his message. "Hey! Gra go deo, Papa- and, um...Shepherd. Um, hello- um, well, the Major- um..."
"Master," Aric corrected gently, moving toward the young man. "The Master Inquisitor- and how is he?"
Oakarm shifted from foot to foot, looking down at the floor as Ironfeather laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He's a-ok and has allowed the people over there to get their hands on all the bruises and scrapes he's got. Seyashen's still running the wheel, says he'll get you wise before any contact's made with the family. The Master Inquisitor thinks there's something between Svaentok's disappearance and Arlwynna's, and is gonna chat up the She and Dresden- um..."
Aric's grey eyes grew stormy with distaste. "Dresan- I would rather he didn't get into the same room with that particular gentleman. There are a few too many angry spirits in his wake, but- ah, well- Semnemac has more than proven that he knows where his own limits are. I suppose I had better focus on getting Svaentok back, and then we can talk about whatever connections he likes."
"So like I was getting ready to say," Smokedog continued brusquely, "it's this tumble down shack, more like a forgotten manse than a jail fort, sitting in the middle of the most bizzarro patch of land you ever saw. About every half hour, two or three creatures take a turn at dominating him or fighting him. Some of 'em shamble, some of 'em don't, but they all smell like burnt graveyard. The ones that don't are the dominators. They get totally ignored- he's like, this crazy willpower wall made of 'fuck you' for them, and it drives 'em bats. Those who try to fight him are the shamblers- they wind up getting run through with their own weapons- say, you're sure he's a monk? Nobody learns to fight the way he does locked up in a cloister."
"He's about as monkish as I am, but he is the monastic elder," Vhalan replied with a bemused smirk.
"Elder Vhalan," Aric counseled, throwing the pleased vampire a look of gentle warning. "Forgive him, but his approval for Elder Svaentok was hard won- he may have been where Shanna is now, were it not for some... minor meddling on my part. You must understand, my children, that his title has less to do with his abilities, or the time spent within these walls, and more to do with his responsibilities here. Monastic initiates, be they martially minded or magically bent, are expected to one day tend a burial ground, and a worship center, of their own."
"Thank you, at least you're civil. Say, does anybody think of muzzling that creep?" Darelove complained, rolling her eyes. "You ask an honest question and get a smartass answer."
"How about we just get the Shepherd wise so we can plan the next move, huh?" Deadriver prodded. "You ain't gonna rattle the vampire, just tick him off worse."
"I can take Snakesoul, Darelove and Oakarm and have the monk back in a day," Smokedog reasoned, speaking directly to Deadriver.
"No go, brother," Deadriver replied. "Snakesoul's still sitting with Greenstar and Fairwillow at Udala and Amilie's place- their big papa got arrested, and it really gave Amilie the spooks. Snakesoul didn't like the way big papa got marched out by the folks doling out his gold as though he were some creep, so she's sticking around to make sure things stay gravy for the ladies."
"It'd be tough by ourselves, but we can probably handle it," Darelove shrugged. "Oakarm shouldn't even see much action, if I time my shots well."
"Assuming you intend to return as warm blooded mortals, I suggest you leave Oakarm out of this situation entirely," Vhalan stated matter-of-factly. "I would be remiss if I didn't mention that your 'little brother' would be my thrall by now, had there been no outside interference. His willpower and martial prowess leave a great deal to be desired. And creatures more fantastic than I will be haunting the strange-looking grounds near the sacred area of a known lich, don't you think?"
"You saying Oakarm's a pushover?" Smokedog dared, whipping himself back around to glare at Vhalan.
"I'm saying he's weak-willed and under-trained for the mission," Vhalan replied, raising an eyebrow. "And I am well-qualified to say so. If you are insulted because you are his mentor, it would behoove you to work him harder."
"Why you-" Smokedog began, his voice deepening into a threatening growl. Niku, in response, began a growl of his own, and Silveredge put more strength into her arms.
"It's okay, he's right," Oakarm piped up. "It took the quiet sister to get him off me- she did some magic thing, put us all near deaf for a good couple seconds."
"I think you have it in you, but this is a big job, so I won't put you on it if you don't wanna be. Now that means that basically, we need a major melee and a spellcaster," Deadriver nodded. "Any of your people make the grade?" he asked, turning to Aric.
Aric thought for a few moments. "I am likewise loathe to send initiates out into strange territory. I suggest Elder Vhalan for the melee, and Dedicant Jyklihaimra for melee and spellcasting- she has a unique gift, and can handle both with stunning natural dexterity. She also serves her elder as intuitively as does Sister Shanna, who will hold her elder's post while he is absent from us."
"I ain't gonna work with a blood sucker that needs a blindfold so's he doesn't put the bite on people he's supposed to be allied with," Darelove objected at once.
"Well, I can always-" Shanna began hopefully.
"And what use is this cat gonna be, to hold him back if we need it?" Darelove charged on, railroading Shanna's suggestion. "She hasn't even picked up her head through this entire conversation."
"But she's the one who-" Oakarm charged.
"Don't bother, boy, she clearly didn't listen the first time you told her. Perhaps I should educate her about the value of her blood," Vhalan cooed as though he were speaking to a three year old. "It's about as appealing as a bowl full of plague boil pus and vomit, which is probably why the 'blood sucker' in your own ranks has no problem leaving her alone. I wonder about your 'spirit name'- what was it, 'Darelove,' little mortal?- since you seem awfully 'square' about daring to even place the lightest of trusts in the word of people with whom you are supposed to be allied."
"Oh, that tears it," Darelove crowed, frustrated. "I'm going back to the tribe, Papa; you let me know when we're out of here. We could stand to stay away another couple generations, if you ask me, and frankly, old man, I don't know why you all don't just put a damned stake through that thing's head, promote the poor chick that pretty much has to do his job for him, and be done with it!"
Silveredge tapped a single finger on her right hand onto the stone floor, and everyone in the room except for herself and Aric was stunned into confusion for a few moments. After everyone had regained balance, she looked up at Darelove, who had turned to glare at her. "Perhaps we should take some time to get to know one another," she suggested quietly. "My lord Svaentok is a great warrior, and can probably spare us the few more hours we need to stop ourselves from making mistakes that future generations will speak of with deep regret."
"Righteous, little mama, that's righteous," Deadriver smirked, shaking his head clear of the remaining soreness. "I dig your set up, old man- Smokedog, Darelove, there go your hunting partners, so treat 'em right. And I think you're gonna have your hands full with quiet mama down here."
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