The White Moon Tribe - BL

Nyell followed behind the elder as they ventured further inside the gloomy forest, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to verify if his father and Lapis were still in tow. Although the shaman was livid, he did not complain, barely making a sound. He kept his eyes on Nyell's broad back and focused on it, pretending the carnage spreading over the forest ground didn't exist. 

But it was easier said than done. 

The number of corpses grew exponentially as they approached the forest's heart. The trails of blood and battered organs seemed to converge toward it, almost like a vast network of veins and arteries. The soil, which had been grey as if a thick layer of ashes covered it, gradually took on a brownish-reddish hue. It softened, too, turning into mud. Every step they took left deep footprints behind.

For how long have they been walking? Nyell couldn't tell. It felt as if it had been an eternity, yet it also felt like seconds. The time flow in a dream was a strange thing and didn't follow common sense.

And so, Nyell started to count the minutes, to give himself a repair in time and distract his mind from the corpses. Whenever his gaze landed on an intact head, it felt like its lifeless eyes were staring at him and accusing him of something he hadn't done. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. 

When the fifteen-minute mark minus a few seconds was reached, the trees grew sparse until a clearing appeared before the group. Burg stopped dead in his tracks, and Nyell almost crashed into his back.

"Weird. How come your body is still here?"

The words sent an impending doom loom over Nyell's head. He gulped and forced his legs to move, passing by the elder to see what lay ahead.

And he regretted it immediately.

It was a sight he would never be able to forget for as long as he lived, now forever etched into his mind like a scar. Before Lapis could glimpse the horror standing in the middle of the clearing, Nyell turned around and covered the older man's eyes. He might be the same age as his dad, but unlike him, he had a sensible heart, which was easily shattered. He didn't want to impose such a nightmare upon the shaman, who shouldn't have to bear such trauma for the rest of his life when he held no responsibility in the Black Moon tribe's dark past.

However, Nyell miscalculated how his father would react. When Corriel's gaze fell upon the altar, he couldn't swallow the sight before him and retched. Nyell felt him. His stomach was still churning, and he barely managed to keep himself from puking his guts out.

"Weird. Really weird."

Burg repeated as he scrutinized the altar on which Dangu laid, his wrists and ankles still chained. The ceremony had been well undergone before he lost his mind and thus had the ritual mutilations begun. This particular sacrificial ceremony required a good amount of pain from the sacrifice to be effective, and Dangu had gone through a peculiar type of torture that turned the body into a mess while keeping him alive, leaving him in such a sorry state that it was impossible to tell whether he was human or a lump of meat. Only his face was left intact, save for the tongue and eyes that had been removed and placed beside his head on each side like offerings.

"Usually," Burg started, forgetting the weirdness of having the dead man standing beside him, "the god summoned through this ceremony listens to the shaman who conducted it, but this time, for whatever reason, he listened to your silent pleas instead and granted you the strength to fight back. He even healed your body from its wounds and also the incurable disease you had since birth."

Nyell pinched his lips, anger welling in his stomach. Sacrificial ceremonies had long been banned, yet this tribe conducted one regardless of the consequences. Gods that took sacrifices and rejoiced in pain were considered foul and demonic, the kinds that should never be worshiped. They did grand wishes that often went beyond what the righteous gods could do, but at what price?

"Then," Burg continued, his voice shrouded in disappointment, "you went mad and killed everyone. The whole tribe is dead because of you."

"Did I agree to become a sacrifice?" Nyell heard himself say as he felt Lapis' eyelids tremble under his hands. The disgust coursing through him was palpable, and he now seemed to understand why Nyell was blocking his vision.

"Of course not," Burg shrugged as if the man's agreement didn't matter. "We sent you to help with their ceremony without telling you what the ceremony was exactly. This tribe was a long-time ally, and its people were dying of an unknown disease. They came to our council of elders for help. How could we turn them down? We need their warriors' strength to control this monster breeding season. You know it's particularly violent this year. So, yes, we agreed. It's not like getting rid of you will affect our tribe much. You might be the chief's brother, but you have no talent and no use whatsoever. You're a burden whose only purpose is to add a mouth to feed."

About two decades ago, the monsters were much more abundant and violent than today; even Nyell knew that part of their history. The Black Moon tribe hadn't always been thriving. But was it worth sacrificing someone to ensure an easy way out for the tribe? Especially in such a brutal way…?

"Was my sister aware of the real purpose of my visit here?" Again, Nyell spoke through gritted teeth.

"Of course not! She's a young chief who's still too sentimental to see the grand picture. If she had known, she would have opposed it. She came after we called her over. You were uncontrollable and were about to let your wrath befell the neighborhood tribes. You can guess that she went white after learning what happened to you. We told her that we also didn't know the tribe would do such a thing to you, or we would have stopped it. There are things better left unknown."

Nyell sighed in relief. He had feared for a second there that his mother had been in it too. But after the relief came a sharp pain. So his mother killed her little brother, who she said she loved just as much as her children, to protect the innocent tribes. He could not imagine her agony, for she shouldered the responsibility of a chief and elder sister. She couldn't allow her brother to run rampant, even if he had all the rights to.

"But all of that doesn't matter," Burg said, a mad smile stretching his lips. "You're still alive! And the blessing the God of Plague has granted you seems to have dissipated. We can start the ceremony all over again! We can ask for the fallen tribe's revival! And the cure for the disease! Nothing is lost yet!"

"You crazy son of a bitch!"

Fury clouded Nyell's mind, and he turned around to strangle the man. However, his father stopped him. His face was somber as he shook his head. Lapis had warned them to be careful before entering the dream, lest they get ejected from Burg's dreamland in a not-so-gentle way. Antagonizing the dream's owner would lead to irreversible damage, just like when Tuppel's dream collapsed. Lapis wasn't as good as Allen and was aware of his limits. He couldn't bring everyone out in seconds if an emergency arose, meaning they would most likely either get stuck in the dream realm or manage to leave but suffer long-term after-effects.

"I think we've heard enough to get the picture of what happened," Corriel said. "This unfeeling monster seems to be stuck in this time frame, and he doesn't seem to have knowledge beyond what followed after Hulien went after Dangu, considering how he reacted after seeing Nyell. It's useless to stay here any longer. We won't be able to figure out why Dangu was collectively erased from our tribe's memory or why it took him years before launching his attacks. But at least, we've gotten a good idea of why he's out to wipe our tribe. If he thinks the whole tribe was in it and sent him to his demise, knowing what kind of painful fate awaited him… Well, no wonder he turned into a wrathful ghost." 

Anger made Corriel's voice tremble, but he still softened his tone when he switched his attention to the shaman, ignoring the confused elder. 

"For now, can you get us out, Lapis?"

The shaman nodded, readily beginning the incantation to bring their consciousness back to their bodies. He didn't want to stay in this dreadful place a second longer.