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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 22, 2024 2:25:12 GMT -5
The newborn Hum’s copper eye lights blink, watching Beak with curiosity as the little skeleton lets out a soft cheep and shifts in her mother’s arms, tiny little talons reaching out for the elder skeleton and making grabby hands at Beak as she begins to let out more soft cheeping…
Rena giggles softly, chirping happily and nuzzling the newborns as she smiles down at them…
Bell nods softly, the specter cracking his neck as he moves over to his forge, pressing down the billows a few times to build the heat back up before palming the ashkeeper pieces on the return. The ember specked specter tilts his head after giving the ashkeepers to Beak, before his eyes light up and he scrambles off once again, returning a few minutes later carrying a stick with an oil-soaked cloth on the end, a small tinderbox in Bell’s other hand…
…Nev smiles softly, the wraith drifting away to retrieve the Inkstone Stylus and the Everbloom leaves, gently handing them to their girlfriend with a soft trill…
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Post by Beak on Jun 22, 2024 3:07:31 GMT -5
... And that's everything. The parts that make this ritual a ritual are already accounted for: ashkeepers, leaves, stylus, fire. She writes the names and dedications, burns them, puts the ashes in the ashkeepers, Bell seals them, and it's done. The rest is just a glorified fancy speech, really. And there's a part of her that wants to make this quick out of concern for Rena--the poor dear desperately needs rest after... everything.
But this is the single most important thing Beak has ever done. In her entire life. She's setting the tone for the newborns' entire lives. She'll give this every drop of reverence it deserves and more, or she'll eat her own tail. And she doesn't even eat.
"... In Ibekki culture, the term for the undead was kakk nis darsak," she began. Her telepathic voice is solemn, sincere... for someone who was so nervous about this rite, she seems to have slipped into the role naturally... one would scarcely believe she was a simple uneducated warrior. "Literally translated, it means those who flood the margins, or margin-walkers. Those whose pages have run out, those who have no more paper, and yet they continue to write where there is no room for them. Illegible scrawls in the corners of the great book, from those who should have stopped writing with their last breath, their final heartbeat."
"... Gathered around today, I see four skeletons... two ghosts... a lich... the majority of this family is undead. However, I see not a single margin-walker. Our stories continue, not as puppets, not as bones following some sorceror's will, but as people, as souls. The book has ample room for our stories, our growth, our triumphs, our struggles, the bonds that we forge and share."
"And so it is that we honor two new lives--one who tasted undeath before her story even began, and one who, even living, refused to leave her sister behind in the frozen egg, refused to hatch without her. This night, before the entire gathered family, before the stars and the book-beyond-the-stars, we honor and induct them as Ibekki. We add their names and their chapters to the great book, whereupon their stories will be theirs to write. No margin-walkers, these... tonight, the pages for an entire lifetime of stories begin."
She begins with the skeletal chick who is likely peeping curiously at the display, not understanding the significance of this rite before she can so much as speak... that's fine. She will.
"Somber Hum," Beak declares, writing her name just as she'd practiced; the Inkstone stylus perfectly and permanently adorning the Everblossom leaf. "This One Shall Thrive." She carefully takes the open ashkeeper bearing the chick's name, and inserts the leaf whole... for as ceremonial as everything else she's said tonight has been, this part does look rather oddly like just wadding the leaf up and stuffing it inside. That's to make sure its every ash is kept where it belongs, though, not a single one escaping... this, too, is handled with all the reverence the elder skeleton can manage.
Then, the burning stick is pressed against the leaf until it catches fire, and it becomes instantly obvious why the Ibekki used Everblossom for this ritual. In addition to the symbolic significance of a tree that seems immortal in its ability to bloom in any season, there is, simply put, so much smoke when the leaf burns. Beak holds the ashkeeper high, letting the smoke ascend higher... higher... up into the night sky, then beyond the night sky, where the book awaits. Once the smoke recedes, she lowers the ashkeeper--a brief glance inside confirms it is now indeed filled with the sanctified ash--and hands it to Bell, that it may be forged and sealed shut, the ashes kept permanently secure.
"Morning Chimes," Beak says, now doing the same thing, writing the name and inscription of the other honoree on a fresh leaf. "This One Shall Thrive." Again, the leaf is inserted into the ashkeeper and burned, held aloft until it has no more smoke to give, and then the now-filled ashkeeper is given to Bell.
"The great book sees you, and to you it opens up its pages. We await your stories... Ibekki."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 22, 2024 3:53:48 GMT -5
Bell takes the ashkeepers with a distinct reverence, cautiously stepping over to his forge and cracking his neck before setting to work…first closing the little spheres around their contents, then sealing them shut with dabs of molten metal along the seams…he sets them down on his anvil, a smile on his face as he watches them cool for the next couple of minutes before taking out and opening up a sealed bucket of lacquer and a brush to carefully coat each little metal sphere in the sealant…with that done, the spectral smith seals the lacquer back up and takes a moment to clean the brush before retrieving two spools of wire…it’s several minutes of work, of careful twisting and shaping before Bell feels confident in snipping off the excess, ending with the ashkeepers at the centers of a pair of wire pendants, one formed from copper, the other from brass, both bearing the shape of a star…
…when Bell returns, it’s bearing the pair of ashkeeper pendants, the specter gently placing them in Beak’s hands with a soft, affectionate trill, “...cannae give these to ‘em quite yet…I think it’d be best if’n ye held onto these at least until Rena’s better enough t’ do so herself"
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Post by Beak on Jun 22, 2024 4:05:42 GMT -5
Beak admires Bell's work, giving a curious but appreciative headtilt at the lacquering layer. Oh, there's an idea. Nothing in the rules for the rite about that, one way or the other, and it keeps them from ever getting as rusty as hers was when she first rose again. Three to four thousand years under a flooded marsh made hers look like absolute ruin at first... but after cleaning the rust off, hers now once more looks like the day it was forged, the inscription still preserved and everything. The ashkeeper recipe outlined in the tablet isn't just for ritual ceremonial sentimentality; their construction was built to last. Still, the lacquer is something she hadn't thought of--none of her people had--and that would be incredibly handy should any situations like that arise once more.
She whispers something in Bell's ear about asking if there's room for one more lacquering while he has the bucket out, handing hers over... and then nods at his words, agreeing, and looking at the now-completed ashkeeper pendants for the children lovingly. Adoringly. They're perfect... Bell's work is second to none. "Right. They'll be safe with me until they're safe with her. And... thank you. Truly... thank you. The Ibekki live. I... I never thought I would see the day."
There will be time for that later, though. Time for everything from logistics and deciding the family's next moves to simply gushing about the sentimentality of it all, to assisting Rena as she (hopefully) recovers. For now, the biggest day in Beak's life, and possibly the Blackfeathers' as well, seems to be winding down, at last. Two newborn chicks, two rituals, and... rest. Yes. Rest.
For everything else, there's time. All the time the book has to offer, and more.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 22, 2024 4:31:21 GMT -5
…Nev trills softly, gently scooping the still glaze-eyed Rena into their arms, the wraith gently nibbling at the new lich’s feathers as they cradle her to their chest, a gentle smile in the ruffling around their beak as they slowly stand and move to carry Rena into the barrow, tucking the crow into her nest with the newborns before heading back out to help Bell and Beak carry the rest of the children inside to their own nest…
…soon after, the spirits gently tug the elder skeleton with them as they join Rena in the nest, spectral beaks nibbling at feathers and bone as they nestle in and press close, doing their best to provide as much comfort and grounding as they can…
…and Rena slowly, slowly relaxes, eye lights dimming and eyelids drooping as she curls tight around the newborns with a soft smile on her face…a slow breath in…a slow breath out…a slow breath in…and...nothing…no pulse, no breath, little more…than stillness…
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