31. Nightmares

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They stood at the entrance of a huge crypt. The air was filled with faint whispers, but there was still no living thing to be seen. Fharan noticed a few skeletons leaning against various stone coffins.

He had just taken a few more steps forward when clouds started to take form in the far corners. They drew closer, almost as soon as he had noticed them.

"They are called nightmares. The lost souls of the people who fled from the surface into these holy halls to escape their dawning doom.
In the end they managed to only curse themselves.", Aeithalis surveyed the grey clouds surrounding him.
"These halls are sacred, blessed by the stars. Only upon death may unworthy mortals walk among their brethren. This rule was broken, disregarded upon the looming danger.

The magic dwelling in this place is rather unique and slowly unfastened their souls from their bodies, trapping them forever.
They are not able to interfere with the living world anymore, other than 'obscuring' one's vision.", he explained, the spirits slowly taking form.
There were as many old as there were young.

"They managed to escape their enemies, but died regardless. Existing in an everlasting twilight between realms.
Fate can be quite cruel to its children."

Aeithalis fell silent and Fharan could not help but wonder. Would these people have made the same choices if they had known what would become of them and their children? Could they even have acted differently.
Fharan shook his head to chase away the rising thoughts. The past could not be changed.

"Well, why are we here?", he asked.

He was sure that Aeithalis must have recognized the change by now, he had displayed his magic quite boldly after all and he could feel the pull himself. It was almost like the other side was calling him back, as if he didn't belong here.
It was too easy to forget that he wasn't in his real world, in his real form.

Aeithalis closed his eyes for a second and then caught Fharan's gaze before he started to speak: "We are here because of you. Because you were not meant to stay alive.
If things had gone their predestined way you would not have been born for that matter, not like you are now anyway."
Fharan stayed quiet. It was not the first time that someone had told him these things, but Aeithalis did not mean it as an insult or anything. His voice was bland, void of any emotions. It seemed as if he was only stating facts.
He waited.

"What many have forgotten is, that there was much more too the fallen kingdoms than the believers of a dead faith.
Religions are based on the gods they serve. It has always been like that in this world.
It is as true today as it has been a thousand years ago.

The people you see around you did not simply oppose a new king, but refused to abandon their gods which had sheltered them for centuries."
He turned his gaze from Fharan and let it wander over the shadows around them.

"The followers of the 'new' gods did not tolerate any power beside their own. They forced the people to swear upon the new rules, to turn their back on their 'false' powers.
There was only one problem.
The gods of old were different from today's gods. If you wanted their blessing, you had to direct your prayers towards the deity under whom's star you were born. They seldomly gave out big blessings on their own accord and acted more as guardians. They blessed people with health, good harvests and occasionally strength. Their magical gifts were always in harmony with nature.

But there were also the few lucky ones, if one could call them that, that received immense powers from a very special deity.
They received them before their birth, even though they tended to only surface under dangerous circumstances or by the time they reached the brink of adulthood.
It was said that they had a close connection to 'their' god and held immense influence, power and respect, once they had awakened or were recognized as such.
There were seldomly more then four of them at the same time and to many, even in these times, they were barely more than legends."

It fairly quickly dawned on Fharan who Aeithalis was talking about. If his suspension should be true...
Aeithalis continued.

"The new rulers obviously wanted to erase them from the equation. They were far too powerful and unpredictable for their own good. No one could control them, especially since they could not give up their power even if they wanted to.
They had to eliminate them before the old believers had a chance to gather under their banner to fight back.

They would probably have lost if they had just tried to hunt them down. Rather than doing that, they started small, even before the fights really started.
Why shed the blood of their own if they could simply let others do it.
A dropped word here, a nicely placed rumour there and in less than a decade the reputation of the white stars had been destroyed. And even without further provocation, people started to hate them. It was not long after that that the first one of them died by the hands of others.
There wasn't much more before most of the citizens collectively turned against them.

In a span of less than a decade the born heroes became hated outcasts. Only the order of stars stayed loyal to their 'saints'.
That served their enemies just as well since it brought down a huge blow upon the reputation of the order, the whole belief in fact.
The matter didn't end, even when the war broke out and every last one of them lost their lives.

That didn't solve the problem though.
Just six years after the new belief had taken over a new blessed child appeared, a few years later another.
The people in power decided to create an organization which's sole purpose it was to eradicate the silver-eyed as early and through fully as possible, even going so far as to use the rituals of old to predict where the next one would appear.
The blessed children started to appear less and less and were eventually forgotten.

It has been a long time now that anyone called them the blessed ones.
Not only because the rumours circulating around them and the hate directed towards them but also because the terrible fate that awaited them.
Now they are only ever called..."

"Hanju.", Fharan cut him off and stared into the clouds of whispering souls. "They were called Hanju."

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Merry Christmas 🎄

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