Roots | ONC 2024

XVIII : Mend

Umirin sits still, the weight of the fawn's gaze on his body far too heavy to allow him to move. He feels—pierced, by those eyes.

This is no fawn that he is looking at.

When it speaks, its voice does not come from the fawn's body itself, no, it comes from—from everywhere?

Umirin can hear it in the echoes of the cave around them, he can feel it rise out of the ground beneath them, he can sense it come from within his own bones. The voice of all that has been, is now, and is yet to come.

"Blessings," it says simply.

Umirin swallows a lump, overcome by how small he feels. How stricken.

The Elders have broken their circle, the five hulking forms having moved and cowering behind him and Shani, as if the two of them could possibly protect them from anything that may come now.

"B-Blessings," Shani is the first one to muster up enough of himself to speak, his voice shaking with uncertainty. Umirin can merely stare at the fawn. At the God before them.

He feels gooseflesh rise over his skin as the Divine Beast replies, the flow of time itself seeming to shiver as it speaks, "I know you," it tells Shani, "you called me to life."

Shani stays plastered to Umirin's body, but nods slowly, taking a deep breath, "I—yeah, I d-did. That w-was, uhm, the deal with the...Elders," he explains, likely unnecessarily, as Umirin suspects the deity before them already knows all of this.

The fawn tips its head upward then, gazes at the Elders huddled behind them. Umirin glances over his shoulder to find their heads ducked and eyes averted.

"The Elders," the Divine Beast remarks, and rises to its feet, walking its way around Umirin and Shani to approach the Soulbiters. Every tap of its hooves against the stone floor of the cave echoes with a depth and volume it should realistically not have to it, "is that what you have come to call them?" it asks as it approaches the Soulbiters, comes to a stop before them.

"Y-Yes," Umirin finally finds his voice, feeling too guilty letting his poor husband handle all of the talking, "B-Because they were the...first. They are the oldest," he explains, his voice trembling just as much as Shani's. He can't help it. His heart aches with the ethereal wave of sanctity that grips it. He is unnerved at having the fawn behind him, but too afraid to move himself around to face it.

"How many have come since them?" the Divine Beast asks, then seems to consider its words, "How many have come of them?" it corrects.

Umirin swallows, shuddering at the weight of such an inquiry, "N-No one knows, b-but, each stripe on them was a life t-taken," he replies, shifting his head back to study the completely silver speckled Elders, whom still remain deathly silent.

"Much has been lost, then," the Divine Beast concludes, and Umirin trembles when he hears it walk back around them again, standing in front of them. Its footfalls echo heavily. As heavy as the earth. As heavy as their sins.

"Y-Yes, o-over the g-generations," Shani confirms meekly, still clinging to Umirin. Umirin holds him close as he has up to now, though he isn't sure there would be anything he could do should the Divine Beast decide to turn hostile.

The fawn merely regards them in silence for a few long moments. Umirin has to close his eyes as the silence engulfs them thickly, reveling in the comforting blackout for a moment. He belatedly realizes that there is a faint, deep thrum emerging through the quiet.

He can hear the Divine Beast's heartbeat.

"And yet, you gave up even more to bring me here now," it finally speaks after far too long.