《Rites of Blood》


 1 - Rites of Blood

    Today was the day of the initiation. His vows to the brotherhood. Kinst knew he couldn''t have studied more, every waking minute he''d spent nose deep in old musty books and scraping his ink across cheap parchment. He sighed deeply as he paced the floor, five steps forward, three steps left, five steps back. He hated his cold, cramped cell with not even enough room to pace properly in but at least next year he''d be with the second years in their larger and more comfortable rooms - well if he passed anyway. He didn''t want to think about what would happen if he didn''t. It was less than an hour away and time was going too fast and too slow at the same time. The clock-tower rang out half past the hour. Soon now. A creeping nauseous feeling crawled up his body like he had a stomach full of ants.


    A familiar face popped around the door of his cell; dark brown hair, blue eyes with a little something extra behind them and a large toothy grin.


    ''Come on Kinst, we''ve got to get going already!''


    ''Okay Ganny. I''m coming. Hold on a second.'' said Kinst grabbing his brown leather bag, he couldn''t forget that, he''d need it for later. They walked together down the long draughty corridor that led to the ceremonial quarters, their footfalls echoing off the hard granite floor. The quarters were usually only for practitioners and third years but, today, only the first years came for their initiation. One master, one boy. You went in as a neophyte and come out as an acolyte. Kinst longed to get that status. One of the ordained. Ganny chatted constantly his arms and head animated as he gesticulated wildly. Kinst didn''t pay any attention, just a grunt now and then, his mind was a blank as if everything he''d learned up until now had just drained out of him like blood through a deep wound. They stopped, joining a larger group of first years. Ganny leaned over and flicked Kinst in the ear sharply.


    ''Wake up Kinst. It''s not that bad: you just have to pass that''s all. It''s not like you would fail; you''re always swotting away.''


    ''It''s not that, it''s well... it is... but it''s more what we have to... you know... do.'' Kinst grasped the hem of his red robe squeezing the fabric tightly as its softness rubbed against his skin comfortingly.


    ''Oh that? No problem at all. It''s not anything important. You just say the lines and complete the ceremony. Just don''t fail,'' Ganny winked and nudged Kinst in the ribs. Kinst looked at him, his heart was still beating too fast and his palms were sweaty but those few words from Ganny sent the ants away.


    ''You''re right and - hey! Who''re you calling a swot?'' Kinst gently thumped Ganny in the shoulder and the two of them started laughing, Kinst grinning just as widely as Ganny ever had.


    A deep black menacing shadow loomed up behind them suddenly. A hand rested on both their shoulders. Kinst jumped with a squeak. Ganny froze mid chuckle with a cough.


    ''Time for joking eh?'' the shadow said in a scratchy tone, half deep and half squeak. Kinst and Ganny turned like two puppets on one string to face the shadow. The head boy towered over them, grinning malevolently. ''Must be confident, eh?'' he said with a snort.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ?   ''No, Rant, we''re not. Just trying to cheer up Kinst. Sir.'' Ganny said with a grin and a mock salute. Rant''s eyes narrowed. With his fists clenching at his sides he leaned forward, the stink of his breath making Kinst''s nose wrinkle.


    ''Well just remember what happens if you fail. Us third years get you for... practice. Well, after the masters are done with you.'' Rant laughed and turned sharply, striding away down the corridor, heels clicking loudly on the stone floor.


    ''I can''t believe you said that Ganny! I thought he''d turn blue!'' Kinst laughed richly.


    ''You''re the one that thumped me!'' Ganny winked. ''Anyway, look it''s starting.''


    The large bronze doors swung open. Kinst had imagined that behind them would be carpeted halls and rich tapestries but it was just the same plain stone walls and floors as the rest of the citadel. The ants started up again with a vengeance as if making up for lost time. They crawled and crept more violently in his stomach than before. The masters were in their best robes. Rich vermilion hoods covered their faces. Names were being read out one by one. His classmates were leaving, with the master that called their name, meekly following like lambs to the slaughter. Suddenly only he, Ganny and a boy everyone called, behind his back, ¡°Nervous¡± Nuk were left. Nuk''s face was pale, like white ash, he was visibly shaking as he mumbled under his breath. Kinst could understand his being nervous but you only got one try at this. Nuk had to pull himself together. A tall hooded master stepped forward and called out the next name.


    ''Nuk Bhanto'' the master said in a deep rich voice. Nuk stepped back trying, as if it were possible, to hide behind himself. ''Come along boy. Follow me.''


    ''M-Master, I.. I.. Can''t.'' Nuk stuttered over the words. Kinst watched aghast. He''d said ¡°no¡± to a Master. Punishment would be swift and painful.


    ''Is that so?'' the Masters voice gently softened. ''Well don''t worry boy, we have other uses for you. Go back to your cell and wait until you''re needed.'' Nuk scuttled off down the corridor, his face visibly relieved, as fast as his short stubby legs could carry him. His master followed after him purposefully.


    ''Ganneth Meda.''


    ''Here Master.'' Ganny sighed softly, his usually confident face furrowed in a frown he followed his Master through the doors. Suddenly  a loud scream of fear, high-pitched like a girls,  filled all the hall. Kinst didn''t even look up. Nuk knew what would happen if he failed. It was his own fault.


    ''Kinst Syte.'' The last Master bellowed. Kinst knew this voice, it was Old Master Spruk the subject of many nightmares since he''d come to the citadel. His bald head and wrinkled face were covered with silvery thin scars, his hands and arms likewise. He seemed ancient, like he''d seen everything, including the inside of Kinst''s head. Classes with Master Spruk were almost as bad as the nightmares. Kinst closed his eyes and took a deep breath.


    ''Here Master.'' He was the only boy left, he didn''t see why he had to say anything but it was part of the ceremony. He''d been through it in his mind so many times, he just had to do everything right and he''d be fine. Master Spruk began shuffling slowly down the cold corridor.


    Kinst followed, his face pale and his mind racing.

 2 - The Ritual

    The ¡°Ceremony¡± room wasn''t what he''d imagined either. He thought it would be... grander, more ornate. Instead it was more like a classroom. It smelled of old meat and rusty nails. A stone worktable dominated the centre of the otherwise plain room. There was a rack of wire cages against the wall at the back and each cage had a rat inside. Most of the rats were trying to get at the others to fight. It reminded Kinst of his past year a little. He glanced over at Master Spruk who was settling himself onto a wooden chair in the corner. He was slightly elevated above the level Kinst would be standing at, so that he could see everything that was happening. Kinst couldn''t make any mistakes. He would have to do everything perfectly. Ganny would probably have finished by now and still be grinning.


    ''In your own time, boy.'' Master Spruk''s withered voice brought Kinst back from his imaginings. He''d prepared for this. He knew what to do. He took his ceremonial instruments out from his bag: a black-handled knife etched with Urtish rune-work; a blood-red flat stone, smooth and warm to the touch, and his unworn bronze chain that he would only have a right to wear when he''d passed the initiation. He laid his things reverentially on the stone table in front of him, carefully placing each one just so, as he recalled from the diagrams in his studies. His dagger went to the right of the table, the stone in the centre and his chain on the left.


    ''Good, you know where to put everything.'' Master Spruk''s dry chuckle filled the room.


    ''That''s a start at least, boy. Now, pick an animal.'' Kinst walked over to the cages trying to look confident in front of the Master. He couldn''t show weakness. He had to show his resolve to pass. There were rats of all shapes and sizes in the cages, white, grey, black and brown. They were all wrong. At least he didn''t have a time limit for this, if he had he would be like Nuk, sent back to his cell to be ¡°Useful.¡± Kinst shuddered as his hand brushed a curiously blue eyed rat. He froze, rooted to the spot, the ants back again. He''d found the one and quickly, too quickly. Could he stall? No. He felt the Masters eyes on him. He took the cage carefully from the rack. This rat wasn''t like the other ones trying to kill or maim the others. It wasn''t furiously trying to escape, gnawing the iron cage futilely, it seemed alert and aware of what was going on. It was waiting for its chance at freedom. He walked slowly over to the table, placing the cage on it with care, its old surface was pitted from countless years of use. He could feel the roughness on his finger tips. Everything felt more real for Kinst; the ants were gnawing at his stomach; his heart pounded in his chest. Surely Master Spruk would hear, smell his fear and stop the test now.


    ''Go on boy, I''m not getting any younger.'' Master Spruk said right on cue, as if he could see into Kinst''s mind. Kinst reached gingerly into the cage. The rat pressed itself into the corner of the cage. The tips of his fingers brushed the bristly fur of the rat. He thought it would be smoother. His hand closed around the body of the oddly quiescent rodent. Kinst took it out of the cage, holding it gently in his hand. The rat sensing its chance, began thrashing violently, its body contorting. It''s teeth found flesh quickly. Kinst bit his lip hard to stop from crying out. He tightened his grip but the rodent still squirmed furiously, teeth snapping futilely in the air, barely missing his hand. Just a bit more strength and he could crush its life entirely. It had bit him, it deserved death. For now though, he held it just tight enough to escape the teeth and claws. His other hand grasped for his ceremonial blade, worn from endless use yet still sharp enough for what he had to do next.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ''That''s right boy: make the cut behind the neck and let the blood drip onto the binding stone.'' Master Spruk''s voice boomed in Kinst''s ears. His face seemed to fill all of the room. Kinst took a slow breath to steady himself, his hand began shaking as he pressed the rat to the blood red stone. He ran the knife across its neck. It was only vermin; it didn''t matter. It wasn''t murder. The rat squealed as its life blood drained onto the binding stone. Its thrashing seemed endless. Even in the face of death it fought on. He''d picked the right one. Finally, after an eternity, he laid the rat to rest on the stone in the growing pool of blood.


    ''An''kah xant hehku unkeht An''kah'' Kinst chanted the runes as he had been taught repeating them over and over; he felt the blood energy flowing through him. ''An''kah xant hehku unkeht An''kah'' Calmly he took the crimson stained blade and sliced deeply into his already-scarred thumb. It wasn''t murder. His blood dripped onto the binding stone ''''An''kah xant hehku unkeht An''kah'' his blood mixed with that of the rat. The lifeless body of the rat began to twitch and convulse, he could feel it as though a part of him. From its claws to his whiskers, the taste of blood in his mouth; he was the rat.


    ''Now complete the binding, young warlock.'' The voice of Old Master Spruk came from far away, echoing oddly as he heard the words twice through his own ears and those of the rats. He worked his jaw and twitched his whiskers, his claws scrabbling for purchase on the slippery wet stone. Focusing hard he forced his own mouth to move, it felt foreign and unreal. He was barely able to croak the sounds out. The dual existence was pressing hard on his mind, he thought he would burst before he got the words out.


    ''Kant Kant X''etah Unkeht Kant.'' Finally. Kinst closed both sets of eyes. The final binding held both his bodies rigid. The tension lifted, the once lifeless rat was on the table staring at him, he stared back. It was his first familiar.


    He was part of the brotherhood. Sacrifices like the rat, like Nuk, had to be made if he wanted power. At the back of his mind though, Kinst knew that the true cost of these rites of blood would be much higher than than a scar on his thumb.

 Interlude: As one

    The world opened wider than he had ever seen but at the same time it was less. It was almost muted, cold blues where he once had seen red accents. The edges of his vision were almost gray, no colour at all, and the light in his room a pale and softened glow highlighting surfaces far far above him.


    Almost overwhelmingly his head began swimming with the overpowering smell around him. The iron tang of fresh blood covered him his head spinning side to side waves washing over him again and again. He tried to bring his hands to his nose to hold it off and took in a sharp breath as he felt his hair, no whiskers, painfully bend back as his claws went to his delicate nose.


    It was too much. Kinst brought himself tightly together curling into a ball. This was a mistake, he couldn''t do it. He should stop the ritual now, escape back to where the world made sense.


    ''No. I''m better th,'' he tried to say but hearing only high pitched screaming he stopped. He took a deep breath and uncurling himself he tried to walk forward out of the pool of blood he''d been curled up in.


    He fell flat on his face.


    ''Four legs, idiot.'' He thought trying to feel how to move. At the back of his head he could feel the rat scrabbling for control. He was holding it tightly in rein but maybe he could just steer?


    Kinst relaxed feeling himself withdrawing. His grip lessened. The rat took over quickly. He could still feel the stone floor cold beneath all four feet, the blood smell still filled his nose but no more than usual. He felt how the rat began to move across the floor 2 legs on the ground while walking like with two but doubled. He could do that, next time.


    Free the rat began to trot across the room. The door at the other side of his cell looked about as large as the bronze doors of the ceremony room. The closer he got the sharper the focus. He didn''t need to turn his head up to see the candles hanging far, far above him. The world was wider than the first time he had seen the sea coming to the citadel. He thought he''d never top that feeling. Until today.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.Kinst focused his will. The twin feeling of his blood and the rat''s. His own heart the bass a single beat against the drum roll of the rat''s. He wanted to stop.


    The rat stopped. He wanted it the rat did it. It was that simple. He was in control here.


    The rat galloped forward again. He felt strong, stronger than any blacksmith. Easily pulling himself up the leg of the chair almost bounding up the smooth wood. He reached the seat in an instant and then leapt. Claws barely reaching the table but swinging himself to the surface with a single grasp and he pulled up short.


    There he was and... there he was. He could see himself sitting in the other chair. His skin was pale and his dark hair tufting at all angles. His eyes remained open and seemed to be the only colour in the room. The dark brown irises pulled him in to the pupil and suddenly he was looking back at the rat. The colour returned the two blue eyes in the grey fur staring into his were the brightest thing in the room. He laid his hand out flat on the table.


    ''Come here'' he thought. The rat approached him and perched on his hand cleaning the blood off itself. ''I wonder'' he croaked. He licked his lips and pulled the gaze of the rat up to his again. Willing himself into its eyes. He felt the pupil pulling him in but with a will he hovered on the edge. His vision opening up again but remaining. Everything doubled. He held on. He was strong. He could feel the claws in his palm pressing in tightly he could feel his claws sinking into the soft skin underneath. He felt the blood burst around his claws the smell of iron stronger than ever he felt the pain as the grip on his hand tightened. He could see the rat shaking in his hand he could feel the hand holding him shake. He felt the drop of blood splash onto him.


    Kinst pulled back out of breath, the tang of blood and salty mucus on his lips. He felt at his nose as a trickle still ran down his face. Not strong enough yet.


    Not yet.