Rescued writings of Master Evemer, the Fourth Generation Master

Y144, Master Evemer, of the Glacies Familia

I write this in the dusk of a lifetime of fighting the demons: humans cannot continue the war like this. 

I can no longer lie to my reflection no matter how well I lie to the families of the dead. Hollow victories are bought with the lives of brave front-liners. We have succeeded only in one thing: to defend against the onslaught of demons from breaching the last of Terra’s Bastion. Our claims of victory exist only to suffuse the troops and the Cities with hope – a false illusion that cannot possibly last. 

But I have hope still. An audience with Goddess Glacies today proved fruitful when a young ——- spoke out of turn and asked Her how the Seven fought together when They claimed Sanctuary. I almost struck him down immediately for his mistake— but She, in her wisdom, addressed his question with an answer.

And this is when we learnt of how the Seven split into two groups: a Quartet and a Trio.  The Trio was composed of Molam the Sage, ——– the Champion, and _________ the Defiant. Alas, I am but a mere mortal and was incapable of grasping the Trio’s abilities to function as a group despite Her patient explanation.

The hope lies in my woefully inadequate understanding of her explanation of how the Quartet worked—for Goddess Glacies worked with the other deities Ignis, Ventus, and Terra as a Quartet to drive the demons back from Sanctuary.

My base understanding is how They undertook different roles within their Quartet best suited to their abilities. My hope is that by modeling ourselves after Their greatness, we can more effectively utilize the Gifts They have bestowed unto us in driving back the demons.

Starting tomorrow, my first order as Master will be to form an experimental Quartet. Even today, the front-liners prefer to be assigned with those they share a family with, citing their familiarity with each other’s Gifts. If I can produce results with an experimental Quartet then even the most stubborn front-liners may be more amenable to change. 

May Glacies preserve my determination.

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Under the Great Forge

They sidled into the room, lit on all corners by glowing, orange flames. Rao was the last person to enter, having chosen to not associate with the group too much just in case they found out his heritage. He didn’t want to endure the questions.

The entire room was dry and full of heat. Walking in, Rao’s face was simultaneously blasted by the heat as his lungs felt the lack of moisture. Several other youths tried to cough discreetly or clear their throat.

But their attention was drawn to the center of the room, guarded by more front-line warriors. A circular dais made of white stone was laid there and a man was chained to it, spread-eagle style. His body was bare except for a loincloth and a dark cloth covering his face.

Rao wondered at Damien and why he had done what he had done. Such that Goddess Glacies had sentenced him to be the Sacrifice in another City, for the denizens of another God. But the group kept moving inwards and he followed.

Chaozui walked to the front of the group and gestured for them to arrange themselves around him. After they had done so, he began to explain the Rite.

“The Sacrifice is a Glacies — and a particularly strong one at that — so we’ve taken preventative measures. I know the air is dry but bear with it. We cannot afford to allow him any mediums.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Rao saw Leizuo close the door and lean back against it. They were taking all precaution against the Sacrifice.

About six front-liners in total. Damien Glacies must be exceptionally powerful for six to be assigned as his guard.

Even though the man’s face was covered with a dark cloth sack, the long, golden hair was evident. Rao shifted uncomfortably as he looked at the hair glimmer in the light of the flames. It reminded him of her.

Chaozui clapped his hands, and motioned for all to assemble in front of him.

“You should all know that the Rite involves departing your heart and mind from that which we consider to be ‘human.’ However, what you have probably never heard is that in addition to overcoming your humanity, the rush of power as someone else’s souls energy is absorbed. Be prepared. Do not become overwhelmed. We have specifically allowed for so many of you this time to disperse that much energy among you all so the pressure is shouldered by your group as a collective.”

“What exactly should we be expecting, sir?” asked one of the other youths.

Chaozui stroked his chin. “Well, it’s a bit different depending on the source apparently, but I think all of us Ignis denizens experience a rapid rush of heat. It makes sense, I suppose, as we are all children of God Ignis and our powers are fire-based.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad!” laughed one of the youths, who looked around at the solemn-looking front-liners. The youth’s laughter died almost immediately.

Chaozui tilted his head. “Doesn’t seem so bad? Heh, well, you’ll soon see for yourself what it means to claim the Gift of the Gods.”

The other front-liners began distributing knives to the gathered youths. Rao unsheathed his, looking at the blade. The orange glow of flames reflected against the sharpened blade.

“These are Ignis-quality blades, capable of shattering even normal metal. As a Glacies with such accumulated power, it’ll take at least this much to stab through his skin,” explained one front-liner as they distributed the knives.

“You will all gather around him, and on the count of three, stab him. Make sure you do not look away. The Gift only descends upon those who experience the full horror of departing from purity.”

The other guardsman motioned, and the youths gathered around the raised dais.

Rao chose to stand right in front of the prisoner’s still covered face. He steeled himself, clutching his knife tightly.

“Are you all ready to proceed with the Rite?” Chaozui asked, looking at the gathered youths. Rao looked about him at his fellow Giftless. Some of them were clutching the knife close to their chest, and others looked eager to get it done. Rao wondered what his expression was, then gripped his knife tighter. He wanted to get it done. He wanted his Gift.

“Don’t hesitate. Overcome your inhibitions. And may God Ignis grant you his Gift.”

Chaozui then reached forward and pulled the cloth from over the Sacrifice, his eyes changing to a steely look. But Rao could only look at Damien Glacies.

He was every inch a Glacies, and the blood-ties he had to her were cleanly evident. They shared the same eyes, even if the shade of blue was not exactly the same. The same golden hair framed the noble looking face and high nose. His skin was probably the same pale color as hers if it was not for the orange glow of fire in the room. Rao noticed that despite his position as Sacrifice, despite his nakedness, Damien Glacies’ eyes were serious and calm, glancing around at the gathered Giftless, taking in his surroundings.

“Damien Glacies,” Chaozui intoned solemnly, “For your crime of treason against humanity, traitor of your Quartet, and bringing dishonor to your Goddess and Familia, you have been sentenced to be Sacrifice for a new generation of warriors. Do you have any last words?”

Rao felt as he and the collected youths held their breaths, looking at the Sacrifice. But the Sacrifice didn’t even open his mouth and only stared around at the room. Eventually, Chaozui broke the silence by saying, “Very well then. As Sacrifice, you will repent for your sins and the Gods will wipe your slate clean. Do apologize to your Quartet members in Hell. May Ign- I mean, may Glacies preserve your will.”

Rao steeled himself, readying his knife. Chaozui took a step back and allowed the youths to press forward.

“Stab as one without hesitation on my count. Out of consideration for him being a Scion, be swift and don’t make it painful. This is a Rite in a Goddess’ name, after all. Are you ready?”

Rao wondered if he was ready but did not know it. He wanted to be ready, and he knew he needed to carry out this act. But a fundamental part of him didn’t want to do it. Shifting his grip, he made sure that he angled the blade downwards so that he wouldn’t be able to pull back. For some reason, his mother’s face flashed before him in that moment. He wondered if she felt sorrowful that her son had to participate in a Rite, had to partake of a Sacrifice.

But there was no time to think.

“Three. Two. One. Stab.”