Chapter 4: Banquet of Mourning
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Chapter 4: Banquet of Mourning

Igysil’s villagers gathered around a fervent bonfire beneath the shining gems dotted on the black canvas that was the night sky.

The villagers’ verdant eyes reflected the crimson flames; their bare skin felt the heat of the fire. Despite the large gathering, they all remained silent. The heavy mood squashed the clueless younglings’ excitement about the gathering. They sat still next to their parents; their eyes glued to the brilliant fire.  

A hefty burden weighed down on the villager’s hearts, and the tension in the air was as oppressive as the loss they felt in their souls. Yet in this moment of stiffness, a string connected their hearts and a wave of melancholy washed over them. A bond of sadness that melted their hearts into unity.  

As the night darkened a figure stepped out from the ring of villagers, walking closer to the blazing flame. They donned a pitch-black robe that would have blended them in with the darkness if not for the scorching flame they were heading towards. A wooden mask was fastened upon their face, revealing nothing but their sharp green eyes. Branch-like horns protruded out from the top of the mask while white fur draped down from behind the horns, covering their hair. 

Held within their right hand was a wooden staff covered in luminescent spiral engravings; circular green light floated around the cane, resembling brilliant fireflies. 

Once the figure stopped moving, they were a mere inch away from the fire. 

The crimson flare grew, almost as if it wanted to reach out to the mystifying figure. The distance between the figure and the fire shortened until only a hair’s breadth separated them. Yet the figure stood his ground, unfazed by the flames. 

Abruptly, the figure thrust their staff into the eager inferno. The flames instantly charged forth once more, this time wrapping around the mysterious figure and swallowing them whole. As if pleased with itself the gluttonous fire burst out, flaring up into the blanket of darkness above, seemingly wanting to pierce through the black curtains and set ablaze the distant frigid sky. 

The children’s eyes widened at the sight of it all. An urge to flee overtook their bodies upon seeing the figure disappear into the flames, yet the firm hands on their shoulders splashed cold water over their impulses; preventing them from moving. They could only stand still and witness the daunting but breathtaking scenery. 

Over the course of mere seconds, the meagre bonfire transformed into a pillar of fire that stood intimidatingly in the centre of the village. Thankfully the flames had only grown in height and not width, sparing the ring of villagers around the pillar from a crispy death. 

Then the mysterious figure reappeared, stepping out from the gluttonous tower of fire that had devoured them. Somehow there was not a single scratch or burn mark on the figure’s body. There wasn’t even a bit of soot on the figure’s robe. The villagers remained calm at the figure’s reappearance yet the children’s hearts birthed a feeling of curiosity towards this mystifying person. 

Excitement resurged within the children’s minds, cleansing away the prior gloomy clouds that had occupied them. They all shared one single thought at that moment: Who is that? Their clear round eyes were glued to the mysterious figure, trying to guess their identity. They waited in anticipation of what would happen next. 

As if not to disappoint them, the figure raised their hand and removed their mask. It was Polius! In contrast to his prior weakened self, Polius currently had a rosy complexion and could stand firm in place even without Theo’s help. 

“We stand before the fire of prayers, under the watchful eyes of the Astral Spirit, to mourn those that were lost,” Polius’ deep voice rang out, carrying with it an undeniable conviction. He spoke from the heart, a heart that was heavy from the burden shared by all of the villagers.   

“In the celebration of the life that they lived, and the lives that they sacrificed for.”

Polius placed his right hand against his left chest, and the villagers followed suit.  

“May our lost brethren safely find their way home. May our ancestors bless our banquet. To the future days and the hardship they will bring.” 

The villagers’ heartbeats were the same rhythm, in true complete unison.  

“We shall never yield to anything that’ll come our way. The Banquet of Mourning shall commence!” Polius announced.

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Everyone shouted out from the top of their lungs. 

This was the storm that came after the calm.

Cups and mugs of various drinks were distributed between the villagers. Their stoic masks were torn down, and emotions flared out in all directions. Crying ensued, followed by shouting and screaming. Everything was released in full towards the infinite black sky.

Nothing was holding back the villagers, their manners and politeness were stashed away for another day as the barbaric feast began. 

***

Polius stood at the side, watching the banquet in silence. His heart was dyed in different emotions with each passing second; regret, sadness, relief, frustration and more. 

“And here again, I find you doing nothing once more,” a voice rang out from behind Polius, followed by the sound of footsteps. 

And here again, I find that you are questioning me once more. Polius thought to himself. 

“You’ve never changed, even back then, when you were just a kid.”

Appearing out of the shadows was Empedocles, tearing a gigantic meat kebab apart with large bites. 

“... It’s different,” Polius muttered. 

“What’s different? Just slightly over fifteen years ago, you stood at this very spot while everyone else feasted.” 

“I didn’t know what the banquet meant, what it stood for. Clueless of everything.” 

“So you are different now just because you know more?” Empedocles took another huge bite. “HAHAHA! Don’t make me laugh, you’re still a clueless moody child.” 

Polius’ brows furrowed at Empedocles’ words. He shifted his sight, glaring at the old man who was only two-thirds his height. 

“If you knew better, you wouldn’t be here but over there.” Empedocles pointed at the villagers stuffing their faces without constraint. “You are the Chief, and a Chief must stand with his people.” 

Polius relented and stopped glaring at Empedocles. His head dropped as thoughts rummaged around his mind. He’s right…

“Of course I’m right. Now go on. If a vegan like me can eat some meat then so can a youngster like you, Chief.

Empedocles walked away, not letting Polius retort or question how the old man knew what he was thinking. 

Polius remained in place, watching the old man leave. Was his back always that small? A question reverberated in his mind, louder than any other thought.

Once Empedocles faded into the distance, Polius turned to the feasting villagers in front of him. The words of the old man echoed in his heart and mind. He’s right. 

At last, Polius moved from his spot, walking towards the pillar of fire and the clamorous villagers.

While the Chief was realising his duties, another figure sat in silence watching the brilliant pillar of flames. Theo sat with one knee up, using it to support his arms. His delicate features were highlighted by the fiery flames, causing him to appear to have been painted there by the Faes of myths. 

He sat alone, spectating the entire event without saying a single word. From the ritual to the feast, he didn’t take a single action. 

His Acolytes had been sitting next to him, but had left to join the banquet once the feast began. In contrast to his chaotic surroundings, Theo’s heart was as still as a tranquil lake, completely unbothered by the rowdy villagers and their barbaric actions.  

Out of nowhere, a burly figure plopped down next to Theo. They munched on a leg of meat without restraint or care; the sounds of their chewing as obnoxious as it can be. 

Theo turned his head to discover that Yzel was the one who had taken a seat next to him. A tiny ripple appeared within the previously serene lake. Questions rose up inside Theo’s mind. 

Before Theo could say anything, Yzel shoved a kebab into his face. The numerous questions in Theo’s mind begged for an answer but his voice failed to articulate them when he saw the nonchalant expression in front of him. 

Since sitting down, Yzel had not spared a single glance towards Theo; simply observing the flames in front of him. Hence, Theo could do nothing but take the kebab that was given to him. 

The two ate without speaking, creating a sole tranquil point amidst the boisterous storm.

The long black curtain of the night slowly rescinded as the blazing sun rose, and with the ascending light, the Banquet of Mourning concluded. The fire tower slowly dissipated, leaving only ashes behind where it once stood. 

The villagers sat together, witnessing the distant star set ablaze the sky with all its might. Words couldn’t portray the influx of emotions that they all felt. This was their last farewell for those that were gone. 

From now on they had to keep moving forward, leaving behind the souls that couldn’t go any further.  

A clap abruptly echoed through the village, causing everyone to turn their heads. 

Polius stood at the centre of the village. He was bathed in sunshine, and a massive shadow was cast at his feet. 

“It’s hard but it’s time to let go, to live our life to its fullest for those that couldn’t. The Banquet of Mourning is over.”

His words etched themselves into their hearts. They understood what he said, yet they all remained still. Taking action now would mean acknowledging reality. Even though they had let out all their emotions in full last night, they had yet to accept what it truly meant. 

To never share a greeting again, to never argue again, and to never see them again.

A loud sigh was heard and a figure stood up from the sitting crowd. In doing so, they stole away everyone’s attention. The person in question was Yzel. His face was devoid of all emotion, and his eyes remained steady even when hundreds of eyes bored into him. His heart stayed indifferent.  

Without saying any words he reached down, picking up the trash and bones left behind from the feast, and stuffed them into a basket. Although no words were said, his actions alone spoke volumes to the villagers.

He wasn’t slow or fast, just moving at his own pace. As if there was only him in this world—completely unbothered by the villagers around him. 

One by one the villagers began to take action, moved by Yzel’s effort. Polius was among the villagers as they slowly cleaned up. 

Then a powerful gust of air swept away the bonfire’s ashes, scattering it into the sky. The villagers that had remained motionless watched this scene and felt that something else was stolen away with the breeze. 

The weight of their hearts lightened with the ashes dispersing in front of their eyes as they too left the cages that had entrapped them.

It wasn’t long before everything was cleaned up. There was no evidence left behind to prove that a banquet took place, and only the villagers would be the sole reminder in this world that it did indeed happen. 

Once the work was done people started to disperse, leaving the significant events in their pasts behind to carry on with the present. 

Polius remained mute at their actions, as words at this moment were unnecessary. He had already said his piece. Now it was up to them to move on.

A voice called out to him from behind, “Chief!”

Polius turned around to face the voice, “Yes?” 

A young woman in her twenties stood behind him. Her shoulder-length verdant hair glittered in the morning light, and her shining green eyes drilled into Polius, briefly petrifying him. Unlike the others, she didn’t seem to be affected by the battle or the losses that were incurred.

“Ah, Chief! Reynold has woken up.” 

Her words snapped Polius out of his daze.

“Reynold? I see, I’ll go meet him now.” 

The woman nodded at Polius’ words. Her lips quivered as if wanting to say more, but in the end, she turned around and left. 

Polius glanced back at the dispersing crowd. The pages of the book of life were being flipped, and a door to the future was opening with a creak. He turned and left the area. 

Credit: KuroYousei (Editor/Proofreader)

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