The winter and summer solstices were always an exciting time for the country of Envidia, it was a time for elf-kin and human-kin to pay homage to their gods that watched over them, and to ask for good fortune in the time until the next solstice. Each state within it had different customs for the festival. For the state of Stotle, it was traditional to adorn your home with banners of prayers to the gods, set up altars on window sills with things cultivated and made from the earth, and burn incense that pleased the gods. At the height of solstice a festival would be held on the beaches, where the community would come together and celebrate with food and music until the moon began to lower in the sky.

Anatoly was always fascinated by this tradition and when he was younger begged Gram to let him take part in the celebration. But as a follower of Ria, they were led to celebrate the solstice in a different way. Ria was considered a ‘dead god’, a god unknown to the land of Enriah. Gram would argue that she was the only true god of the realm, and would forever be agitated at the celebrations held for inferior gods.

As such Anatoly wasn’t allowed to join in the village’s festivities, instead Gram and himself would traverse to an empty clearing overlooking the coast. There they would offer their bodies to Ria in the form of drawing a map of the stars on the ground and sitting in quiet meditation. Through this ritual their connection with Ria would be strengthened and their ability to draw from her power more capable until the next solstice.

It was rather hard to concentrate,though, especially when the village's celebration can be heard ringing out in the night. And Anatoly had been chastised more than once to focus instead of sneaking glances at the distant party on the beach. The one year he had snuck off with Millie down to the coast during summer solstice earned him a furious tongue lashing. One that even made Millie’s tough personality shrink in Gram’s presence. Anatoly didn’t try that again. His master was kind but could be scary, even if he wasn’t a pureblood. Not that Anatoly knew the difference between the turned and the pure blooded in the first place.

All he knew was that the fact they were creatures of the night was a secret and though he could coexist with others in the town, like Millie, he had to remember he wasn’t like them. Solstice was a vulnerable time for them, in the end Gram was just trying to protect him, and Anatoly knew that. So he didn’t push the boundaries Gram had set, even though he yearned to.

The leaves of the Mortisberry bushes rustled as the two of them plucked the fruits from their stems. The bushes always grew in circles, mimicking the place where a star fell to the earth. There were a few bushes close to their home in the woods, where they foraged regularly. The two of them were foraging in silence until Anatoly found the courage to speak what was on his mind.

"I've been seeing this man in my visions lately,” he begins, wetting his lips, “He is devilish in a handsome sort of way, with hair that cascades like ink poured straight from the bottle. Eyes that are soft, a smile that is sweet, and a voice that is melodic in a way that soothes all knots in my stomach whenever I gaze upon him." Anatoly has taken to gazing off into space, looking pleasantly spaced out; rolling a single berry between his fingertips.

A cold sweat breaks out along Grams neck. He never really thought about the day that Anatoly might become smitten with someone. He didn't know if he was ready to have this conversation.

"But also," Anatoly continues, "I have this recurring vision, or this feeling really, that something terrible is going to happen.”

This feeling always accompanied the vision of the half-orc. When he looked upon the visage of the beautiful man, when he saw how gentle the man was in his actions and how he would treat Anatoly in the visions, Anatoly refused to believe the doomed feeling was associated with the man in any way. But the feeling was heavy, almost otherworldly, and something he had never brought up to Millie or Gram because even he couldn’t understand it.

“I never see anything but I'm overwhelmed with this feeling that…what?" Anatoly stops when he notices that Gram is staring at him.

"How often are you using Libra?"

Anatoly flushes and stammers out a vague answer because there was no way he was telling Gram how often he used Libra just to look at the dashing man in his visions. Still Gram doesn't look convinced. He comes over and places a hand on Anatoly's head. He can feel Gram’s energy beat lightly against his skin.

"You're spending too much energy on your formations and overworking yourself. At some point it starts interfering with the outcomes. Ria's light is not infinite, you know this."

Anatoly's face falls and Gram releases a huff, pinching the boy's cheek before letting go.

"Don't make that face. You have been working hard to master your formations, but after the ceremony tonight you won't have to worry about such things anymore. Now come, let's feed."

The Mortisberries make a satisfying squish as the pestle grounds them down, breaking the skin and releasing the precious juice that is inside. Anatoly has removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves in order to not get any on his shirt as he dutifully mashes the berries until it is mostly pulp and juice. The smell of them is metallic with an undertone of sweetness and it makes his mouth dry with thirst. Pouring the mashed berries into some fine cloth he squeezes the liquid into a large canteen. 

The leftover waste is tossed out the open window where the garden sits below. They wasted nothing of the Mortisberry, even using it to fertilize the plants that they grew and sold. It made the produce and herbs more palatable. 

Anatoly then distributes the maroon liquid into two tea cups and the rest into a few vials to be taken with them when they venture away from home. The rest is set aside for later to be used to make food and the like. Although they could eat regular food, it was barely as nutritious and filling as something made with the berries. Setting the teacups on saucers, Anatoly places some biscuits infused with mortisberry juice on the side that he baked earlier in the week.

He brings them into the living area where Gram has already settled into the velvet couch with a book. One that Anatoly had bought for him at the store, it was a small tome on the many uses of various herbs. Setting Gram's cup on the end table Anatoly sits beside Gram. He kicks off his shoes then leans into Gram’s side, covering himself up with the quilted blanket that hangs off the back of the couch. He stares into the fireplace while taking small sips of his drink.

“Does it taste similar? The Mortisberries?” He mutters.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had the real thing, but yes if a little bitter, I pray you’ll never know the difference.” Gram replies without looking up from his tome.

Anatoly gazed into his teacup, the light from the fireplace dancing across the surface of the dark liquid. He definitely had no designs on trying blood but he was somewhat curious. It was in his nature, this he knew as a fact, but he never had the urge to drink from a living being. Gram told him he’d been drinking Mortisberries since he was young. His body probably didn’t know what it was missing out on.

Gram shifts beside him to grab his cup and partake from it. His sleeve shifts down his forearm revealing constellations permanently marking his master's body. The lines and stars crawled up Gram’s skin, only to disappear under his sleeve where Anatoly knows they spread over his entire person. Anatoly bites the inside of his cheek.

“You don’t have to be anxious.”

“Anxious?” He darts his eyes away and to his lap,” What do I have to be anxious about?”

“You know when you were younger you used to paint your arms with ink to match mine.” Gram sighs wistfully, “It was cute, until it didn’t come off for a week. You cried after all the scrubbing I had to do to make you look presentable.”

Anatoly looks at Gram, curious whether this story had a purpose other than poking fun at him. Gram runs his fingers through Anatoly’s hair soothingly.

“The point that I’m making is that it’s just a little ink and some pricks, the ceremony will only last for a short time but the benefits a lifetime. There is nothing to be worried about.”

It was a gentle reminder that this solstice was different. They weren’t just meditating in Ria’s presence but performing a ceremony. A ceremony Anatoly has equally been looking forward to and fearing for a while. 

“But the sacrifice, the blood lust required in exchange, it-“

“Scares you.”

“Yes. What if…what if I can’t do it? What if I’m not able to keep the constellations on my person, and-”

“Then we try again at the next solstice. And repeat until the marks stay, but I doubt it will come to that. You’re my child, have more faith in your abilities and don’t make me regret the faith I have in you.”

Anatoly feels like his lips are glued shut, not knowing what to say to that. He wonders what he did to deserve such confidence from his master. He must have something that invokes such faith, even if he can’t see it himself. He gazes into his cup again and knowing that it was to be the last meal before the ceremony, savored every sip.