For Peace

20. Chimera

A roof of dark grey clouds rolling with thunder greeted the travellers as they ascended the hill that seemed to point directly into the sky. Only the ominous obelisks pointing their heretic fingers at the Lord's residence called for caution. If they didn't hinder the path, Seonghwa would have felt as if stepping right into God's welcoming embrace.

The top of the hill was covered in short grass, cut from wind and weather and trampled aside by the feet of the Reds crossing through.

Five obelisks of varying size stood in no particular order. They loosely circled the man-made shrine in the centre, comprising a stone altar and a sacrificial platform. Blood stained both in a muddy brown, and the food and coins offered to their fae deities were mouldy and stained.

Seonghwa tried not to think too hard of what might have got sacrificed on that table just large enough to fit a human before. The weathered stone was marred by the dips of liquid eating into the rock over the years and the nicks of countless weapons.

Too intimidated to touch anything, Seonghwa stood aside and clutched his cross. He left it to the others to explore while Mingi trailed his black fingers over the stones and soaked up their cruel magic like a delicacy. His runes thrummed with magic, but instead of their usual silver glow accompanied by an aura of black void, they shimmered a faint red. The opal on his staff was no different.

With a huff, Wooyoung sat down on the sacrificial table and took a breather. He picked at the bowl with coins, whining to himself whenever he was hit by zaps of pain. Fléau sat by his side while Perie preferred to perch on the highest obelisk to supervise her surroundings. Receptive to her chirps as she kept guard, Yunho investigated the shrine.

"Are you sure it's wise to take those sacrifices away when we seek the kindred of these spirits?" San asked, as uncomfortable with the place of ominous energy as Seonghwa. He rubbed his arms, feeling as if fingers reached for his neck to chase chills down his spine.

"They were for a past ritual. I gave up a good coin for this one, so they better not be greedy." With shining eyes, Wooyoung continued his ransacking. Mingi halted at the back of the altar. His fingers painted over faint carvings in the stone.

"This site was erected to honour one of these country's heroes, a savage formidable in battle and spilling the blood of Christians," he recounted, not minding how Seonghwa wrapped his cape tighter around himself. Hongjoong stood by his side, watchful of any vengeful ghosts that might reach for him.

Yeosang sniffed the air, displeased with the stench of blood that drove tears to his eyes.

"He was called 'The Matagot'," Mingi chuckled, tasteful at the joke. Fléau perked up to listen closely. "A word used in the language of Alverton for the worst of their enemies, but he wore it with pride." His hand trailed away.

"This shrine is made to sacrifice those whom he killed so successfully."

"People like me," Seonghwa whispered. Behind him on the stretcher on the ground, Jongho's shoulders flexed weakly when his flailing hand sought the grip of his sword, not pulling it. Just protecting.

Mingi's cruel grin darkened.

"Precisely."

Yunho gave a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Let's not linger on that thought. Do you need our help to prepare?" He asked with politeness, but no genuine interest in aiding the foul ritual crossed his mind. If need be, Yunho would dissect a corpse to promote Seonghwa's healing. In case Mingi managed himself, however, everyone would gladly keep their fingers from such vile deals.

Mingi considered the shrine with his black eyes. When they lifted toward the sky, the charms on his headdress jingled with the tilt of his head.

As if aware of his gaze, the skies roared at him. Trickles of rain brushed Seonghwa's skin, but the wind carried them off too fast to become a downpour.