Ritual

Northern Basin - Great Desert of Skulls

Two years ago

Amalu sat crossed legged in the centre of the stone hut built into the side cliffs of Jarkat. A small settlement long abandoned by the Ozainae centuries ago after the last great war against the Skara.

He was alone now. The others had died while when they fought the beast that still haunted these ruins. They had slithered back to their underground mounds but would return soon. He had very little time left.

The three black candles burned at the edge of the red triangle he had drawn in red chalk on the smooth stone floor. Sitting inside the triangle he had poured camel's fat over the small fire that burned inside the ash tinted jackal's skull.

The horrible smell drifted up into his nostrils and he grimaced. It was not called 'The Putrid Rite' for nothing. The smooth shadowy smoke that rose from the fire seemed to cling to his dark robes for a few seconds before drifting upwards towards the cracked ceiling.

He started to chant slowly, low in tone, almost as a whisper, in archaic Ozainae. He drew a few more symbols around him in red chalk inside the triangle, before crumbling a few lotus petals over the crackling flame.

He felt the weight of the Hammer's shaft around his neck like a ledstone. He could still scarcely believe it that after so many centuries they had found it. Despite his doubs and misgivings about Tamazzalt, the man had come through for the Brotherhood of the Ebony Hand. He had led them to the first piece of the tool they so desperately needed to bring back the Goddess. To break her chains.

He pulled the dagger from his belt and drew it across his open palm letting the blood mix with the fire and smoke. The words came faster and faster to his lips now as he inhaled the acrid smoke, deeper and deeper into his lungs.

His eyes rolled upwards in his head and he felt his mind reach out to her. To her prison. The rage and hate he felt were almost overpowering. Still after millennia She struggled against Her chains. He was pulled deeper and deeper into the dark pit until he could almost touch her ravenous mind.

She would know they had part of it by looking into his mind. She would know that the long wait was almost over. Her boon would make him stronger than ever before.

'But The Putrid Rite' always came with a price and for Amalu that price would be his eyes...