Valhalla

“Ladies, I appreciate your affection, however I must ask that you return my clothes immediately.” Wilhelm said flatly.

The gaggle of women that made off with his cloak and shirt when he tossed it away before the performance returned it with no small amount of reluctance. He then promptly clothed himself, feeling no small amount of flattery.

As Wilhelm waited for Titania to change back into her armor thought about the message that they seemed to have received from Synthara. This was the first time his goddess would communicate with him like this. He would not ignore a command from his goddess, but ‘do not resist’? Wilhelm could not help but feel apprehensive.

Camilla approached Wilhelm with trepidation, unsure of what exactly to say.

“Uh, congratulations on your victory? I-I mean, I suppose that was alright for a pagan ritual.”

Wilhelm buttoned up his shirt. “You sound disappointed, were you expecting some sort of animalistic ritual where we kill and cannibalize each other?”

“N-no! I’m not disappointed, though…yes I did expect it was something to that effect.” Camilla looked away from Wilhelm’s eyes.

Wilhelm looked at Camilla with pity. Before him was one of his sworn enemy’s agents sent to kill him and bring down his kingdom, for all he knew she had already committed crimes against the Ragna Kingdom that he had yet to know of. But he felt no hatred for this woman before him. He did not know much about her but the sadness in her eyes was telling. The joy he saw on her face during Elddans was genuine.

“You admit you are wrong, that is enough. Now come,” Wilhelm gestured for Camilla to follow him. “Enjoy the rest of the festivities with me.”

Camilla looked surprised, he was more merciful than she thought. She followed his lead into the rest of the festival. Her stomach then rumbled loudly, too which she blushed.

“I suppose we can start with some food, unless you would rather start fasting day early for yourself.” Wilhelm said with a hint of a smirk.

Camilla opened her mouth to say yes, but she had not eaten since morning. On top of arriving to Rok early in the morning and receiving intel orders from Julius, she also had to perform maid duties and make a long trek tailing Wilhelm in the span of a single day. Those who wield Soul Armaments can normally last for a month without food, but their abilities would be severely reduced. If she found an opportunity to escape and report back to her superiors, she would need every bit of strength to take it.

“No, I do not mind.” Camilla said sheepishly.

The prince and his retainer partook in many of the festival’s activities, each time pointing out the discrepancies between what the Ultimatum says about them and what they actually are. One such activity was said to be a method of communing with the demon goddess by sacrificing sentient or animal flesh into a fire. This made the act of throwing items that aren't made for the specific purpose of fueling a fire like wood into an open fire banned throughout the Ragna Kingdom.

In reality it was an act of personal sacrifice where worshippers would throw items representing something important to them that was also holding them back into a fire. That fire would then be used to cook a meal that represented the goal they were making the sacrifice for, usually by carving the word into the meat they would consume. This made a covenant with Synthara to advance in whatever their goals were at any cost. The priests would hold a public version of the ritual by setting up a massive magical oven and covering it with logs which would then be lit aflame into a large bonfire. Attendees would offer up their own contributions, and receive a portion of them when they were sufficiently cooked.

“But what if someone were to poison their offering or offer up rotting meat?” Camilla asked as she received a healthy portion of pork and chicken in a bowl filled with gravy which was also made by offerings in a separate cauldron.

“The priests use blessed fire that purges any impurities to cook everything.” Wilhelm said.

Camilla looked at her food with fear.

“Dont priests of the Ultimatum also have a miracle for blessing food that achieves the same result? I have partook of food from both and they have the same effect.”

Camilla still frowned but realized he was correct and finished her food.

As they ate their meals, Wilhelm felt a familiar armored embrace wrap around his neck.

“Hey Willy~ How are you doing on your little date?” Titania was slurring her words, clearly drunk.

Camilla looked down sheepishly while Wilhelm twitched. “It's not a date Titania, can you not think of anything else beyond base desires?” Wilhelm felt Titania tap her fingers on his shoulder in the way she was taught too when she needed to speak to him covertly.

“You know, now that I look at you like this, I can kind of see what Camilla there sees.” Titania said as she moved her face close to his with a drunken smile.

“You clearly had too much to drink. I'll take you somewhere you can rest, such a nuisance, please excuse us.” Wilhelm said as he sat up and held up Titania on his shoulder. Difficult to do considering she was more than a foot taller than him. Once they were out of sight from Camilla, she got off his shoulder and spoke normally.

“That message we heard, are we going to do something about it?” Titania said seriously.

“I know what to do. After the parade of the dead we will be heading towards the Cathedral.”

“What about little miss assassin there? You’re not gonna let her follow us are you? Why don't we just off her?”

Wilhelm paused. Letting her come with them was out of the question. “Killing her is too risky. She’s a Soul Armament user, they have strength far beyond a normal human. If we fail to kill her quickly enough, she will see through our ruse. No, we’ll send her away and have Rusalka deal with her. Ensure that we are ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”

Titania narrowed her eyes. “How do you know she has a Soul Armament?”

“Think about it, why would she be trusted to follow me alone knowing my abilities? When I subdued her earlier, I noticed for an instant that there was ice forming around her hand. It is nothing concrete but if we fail to kill her quickly, she could escape and endanger the people here.”

“Fine.” Titania nodded. “Be careful around Rusalka, that hypnosis ability of hers is stupidly strong. I don't like her.”

“She is dangerous, but if she wanted to take over the Kingdom or sabotage it she would have already. Morgan assured me that we can trust her. She is her sister after all.”

“I never trusted Morgan either, those mage types always have some sort of ulterior angle. Just be careful ok Will?”

Wilhelm nodded and returned to Camilla with Titania leaving.

Wilhelm took Camilla to another festival activity where the children were playing Fireball, a game involving tossing a red ball over a net using only their hands. The two sides start with a set amount of points. If they let the ball touch the ground the ball figuratively explodes and damages the team on the side of the court the ball was dropped on, taking away a point from them. Whoever loses all of their points first loses. It was a popular game among children, though teenagers and adults played it as well though usually with added rules. It was banned by the inquisition for ‘negatively influencing the youth’ and for imitating a blood sport played only by heathens.

Camilla was shocked that the inquisition would persecute children over such a harmless game when the ‘fireball’ was clearly figurative. Why would the Ultimatum order these children’s parents to beat them over this?

Soon the festival’s finale began. The parade of the dead. The Ultimatists would hold funerals in a solemn, almost impersonal manner. They would sit in a temple and listen to an hour long sermon praising the mercy and greatness of the Ultimatum. That they should not mourn, but rather use this opportunity to further improve their service to the Ultimatum. Mourning is pointless and a sign of impiety, for all Ultimatists have the same destination, becoming one with the Ultimatum. It is the highest achievement a mortal can acquire. If they were unworthy of joining the Ultimatum’s embrace, then we should rejoice in that such weakness did not mar their god. If they were worthy, then all they need to do is become worthy themselves to join them. Hence why mourning is futile.

In contrast, the Syntharans celebrated and revered the dead. People wearing colorful skull masks would move throughout the camp dancing, laughing, and just doing whatever they can to make people smile. Some even did short Elddans routines with their flaming bladestaffs. Then they would converge and re-enact the Battle of the Cradle. 

The Cradle was a place said to be where the world was first created, divided into four sections corresponding to each of the four realms. Grassy plains led to the Ougon Empire. The Marshland section led to the Bolotnyy Tribes. The Desert section led to the Qin Empire and the volcanic ashlands led to the Ragna Kingdom. The one who holds the entire Cradle has direct passage into the other three realms.

It is the Ragna Kingdom who has held the cradle for the past 500 years after wresting control of it from both the Ougonites and the Qin.

The reenactment included people in costumes representing the Qin clad in wooden armor painted to look like shining metal. The Ougonites in White-Gold cloaks. The Bolotnyy wore light clothes with yellow turbans. The Ragnans in replicas of the black plate of the Kingdom’s army, some orcs were also among the Ragnan side. An Orc was also playing the role of Bergzak the Unbreakable, the legendary Orc general leading them.

The play depicted the Bolotnyy as cowards who immediately abandoned their holdings in the Cradle while the other three nations fought bitterly for control over this small piece of land. The Qin and the Ougonites then formed an alliance and together they nearly drove the Ragna Kingdom out of the Cradle.

Bergzak pleaded for help from their goddess. Then, the actors who were dressed in blood red armor and carrying Elddans bladestaffs jumped onto the makeshift stage at the center of the camp. These warriors were Einjerjar, warriors who descended from Valhalla at their goddess’ command to fight for their kingdom once again. Together with the remnants of the Kingdom’s army, they overwhelmed the Qin and Ougon forces and forced them to retreat. Bergzak even managed to personally cut down the Ougonite general. But the Einjerjar were blessed with godly stamina, so over the next seven days and nights they destroyed the enemy forces before they could retreat back to their castles. Every last one of them had fallen with their castles ripe for the picking.

The crowd cheered, memories of glorious victory and national pride restoring their energy and strengthening their faith after spending their lives hiding from persecution. Even Wilhelm could not help but smile.

“Synthara will return, I know she will. In the meantime, I can only hope that my deeds are worthy of her attention.”

Camilla was amazed at the sheer passion the play displayed. Though she did not appreciate her people being depicted in such a pathetic manner, there was still nothing like it in the Ougon empire. The closest she could get was dryly reading historical events in the libraries. The Syntharans honored the ones who had fallen in service of the goddess.

If she were to die today, would the Ultimatum even notice? Surely they would for a member of the Imperial Guard, right?

After the crowd finished their applause they became deathly silent, followed by the slow rumble of drums.

Camilla turned to Wilhelm. “What’s next?”

“Normally we would end the festival here, but now is a good time to hold the funeral for Morgan.”

Camilla looked back as the four orcs held a casket on their shoulders and solemnly walked towards the center of the stage, where another group was preparing a funeral pyre before the stage.

The casket was open, revealing Morgan’s black hair, brown eyes and her slashed open throat. Some gasped and cried at the sight.

Once the procession reached the center of the stage, they laid the corpse on the pyre, four mages standing ready with fire spells to send Morgan off to Valhalla.

Wilhelm walked up onto the stage.

“Brothers and sisters, we are gathered here today to send off one of our goddess’ finest. Morgan Malefia. In necromancy she was unrivaled. In faith she was unshakable. To me…” Wilhelm paused to take a breath.

“...she is irreplaceable. She was a strict tutor, but she wanted me to be the best king I could be. In a way.” Wilhelm closed his eyes. “ She was the closest thing I had to a mother.” Wilhelm opened his eyes. “ I am truly blessed to not only have been born your prince, but to have had the opportunity to have Morgan as my teacher.” and my savior. Wilhelm thought. “I will continue to protect and guide you all to the best of my ability, including those who were unable to make it here today. For I know that is what she would have wanted. But now she must go and take her place among Synthara's finest. She will feast alongside heroes like General Bergzak the Unbreakable and Queen Maeve. Let us send her off with pride and joy, knowing that our parting is only temporary!” Wilhelm said with increasing volume. “Til Valhol!

The crowd responded in kind. “Til Valhol!”

The mages responded by blasting the pyre with a steady stream of blue fire, consuming the casket and corpse within rapidly in a pillar of blue fire that was almost taller than the trees surrounding them with a loud roar. As the flames rose, the corpse disintegrated, and eventually the pillar wavered and extinguished itself. The soul has ascended and left behind naught but ash.

The mages then closed the festival by gathering the ashes with wind magic, excavated a small hole with earth magic and buried the ashes.