The Celestial Creed

I believe in the Almighty, Creator of Heaven above, 

and in his incarnation, the Grand Celestial,

who witnessed our wretched existence and delivered our salvation. 

He descended into the sea for thirty days and thirty nights 

to impart unto us the wonders of undeath and eternity. 

On the first day, he breathed out cosmic dust, from which we were reborn. 

On the third day, he bestowed unto us a shooting star, that we may be steadfast, sworn to his light. 

On the twelfth day, he collapsed the moon, that we may learn to forge ourselves into something greater. 

On the thirtieth day, he ascended beyond the sun, from where he continues to bless us, 

so that one day we may join with him and magnify the illumination of Heaven.

Velaris stood at the head of the town square with her hands clasped behind her back, red and white uniform pressed crisp in the morning light, and looked across the line of graduates with quiet approval. This was the day her niece would receive her first Celestial Blessing. Their voices carried well through the empty village — measured, deliberate, shaped by three years of academy discipline into something that bore an appropriate weight. The Celestial Creed, recited in unison, had a quality that a single voice could never achieve.

Their voices bounced against the log cabins surrounding the town square, their doors shut and windows dark. A stretch of damp laundry was still hanging outside, making the village look less abandoned than interrupted.

Velaris' brother and his wife were in direct service to the governor of Celeste, capital of the Celestial Empire, who was himself a retainer to Emperor Mino — which meant they had never had time for Celona. They had entrusted the girl to Velaris, who had accepted, thinking it an honor. 

Then she met seven year old Celona, resulting in her spending the better part of a month heavily reconsidering the worth of her honor; the child was practically feral. Every command dissolved into the air unheard. The only thing she had ever responded to, reliably, was food. How on earth did her brother raise this child?

But looking at her now, ten years later, Velaris' chest filled with something that she’d never felt before. If she could feel warmth, that’s what she would call it.

Celona stood at the far end of the front row, auburn hair catching the flat light, reciting the Creed in an unhurried monotone voice. The words came out loud and clear, albeit somewhat irreverent.

The Creed drew to a close, followed by a solemn silence. Velaris stepped forward, preparing to speak. 

An arrow flashed in between the cabins, flying towards Celona head on, but she wasn’t paying attention at all, instead focused on the grey tree beside her.

Using superhuman reflexes, Velaris moved into its trajectory, catching the arrow, but hiding behind it were two more. She used her other hand to catch the second one, but as for the third, Velaris allowed it to find its mark between her eyes. Unfortunately for the arrow, its impact wasn’t felt at all, and the shaft clattered into the grass.

Velaris narrowed her eyes, scanning the surroundings. She couldn’t spot it at first, but as she focused she could make out the outline of a cloak. It was a particular shade of green that allowed the shape to blend in with the foliage surrounding the village. Once she pinpointed its location, she cleared the distance between them in two strides, appearing in front of the hooded exile in the time it took it to drop his bow. 

The exile was fast with no wasted motion, rolling to its feet and producing a knife from its belt in a single practiced motion. It was a broad-shouldered male carrying a grim demeanor, sharpened as if its body itself was a massive arrow aimed at its target. It drove the knife at her ribs without any preamble, but the knife stopped against the outermost layer of her Celestial Blessing as if she were made of granite.

The exile ignored the failure and continued its assault — short, angled strokes, probing for variation in the surface, but none were found. Velaris stood in front of it, unmoving, three layers of grey mana encased her, dense enough that she felt nothing at all.

“Are you done? You’re interrupting.” Velaris grabbed its head and smashed it onto the muddy ground with immense force, then once more for good measure. After ascertaining that the exile was unconscious, she gagged it with its cloak and snapped its arms and legs to prevent any more ruckus, maintaining her grip on its skull as she dragged the exile back to the cohort.

She returned to her position, facing the two rows of graduates. A few graduates who snuck over, craned their necks to look at the fight, scurried back to their positions. The rest had stayed put, including Celona, who hadn’t fully registered that anything just happened.

Velaris surveyed the scene, each graduate, holding a hollow metal stake, was standing beside a small tree bereft of leaves. The trees were fully composed of grey mana, the surfaces constantly composing unique fluid patterns.

"Apologies for the interruption, let us continue. Take your stakes and drive them into the trunk. Make sure you have your cup ready at the other end."

They knew what to do, though this would be the first — and only — time it was performed in earnest. Every third-year graduate went through the full motions of communion before being permitted to carry it out.

Twelve stakes pressed silently against twelve trunks, sap flowing out of the other end. It was less congealed than normal tree sap, flowing out of the hollow stakes in thin red ribbons into readied cups. Once their cups were full, the graduates pressed a hidden button on the stake, which halted the flow of liquid.

At the edge of the clearing, the exile in the dirt regained consciousness. It made a sound that the gag could not fully contain and tried to move its broken limbs, to no avail. Its eyes, which had been steely and determined when she subdued it, were now wide with fear and desperation.

Velaris ignored it, watching as the graduates filled their cups.

"Now remove the stake," she said.

The metal came free differently than it had gone in — multiple hooks protruding from its end like a grapple, altered by the hidden button they pressed. What it pulled out was a fleshy mass that looked out of place coming from a tree. The graduates took the masses off of the hooks and picked up their cups, holding the mass in one hand and their cup in the other.

Velaris raised her voice.

"On the first day, He breathed out cosmic dust, from which you will be reborn."

She looked at them all.

"You may now take the bread and cup."

They obeyed, finishing the cup before consuming the meaty chunk. A few of the graduates wrinkled their noses, evidently not partial to the flavor, but forced themselves to continue. Celona, on the other hand, was eating very loudly, taking huge bites and having a grand time.

Once they finished, they sat down — each graduate settling into place under their respective trees, cross-legged in the grass, minds descending into the stillness of meditation.

The absorption process was slow and precise. Mana was stripped in threads from the bark — trickling like dozens of ethereal rivers towards the motionless figures beneath them, gathering around them like a gloomy little storm cloud. The trees lost their opacity as the process continued. What had been dense and swirling became translucent, revealing what lay within the trees: emaciated children with jagged bloody holes where their hearts should have been. One was even wearing a necklace with an unpolished mineral on it, its natural sheen distorted by bloodstains. 

She maintained her gaze on the cohorts, only offering a brief glance when the trees were completely absorbed and the corpses thudded to the ground. One by one, the trees faded, the graduates becoming encased in a formless cloud of mana.

The next step was for them to apply form to the formless cloud of mana, transforming it into the first layer of the Celestial Blessing. Depending on the proficiency of the individual, this could take from tens of minutes to hours. During this time, they were helpless, which was why a Moonforged had to officiate the ceremony; they were effectively invincible on this side of the wall.

Movement drew her eye. Celona had finished meditating earlier than most, thirty minutes in, but instead of sitting still and honoring the sanctity of the moment like the other graduates, she turned toward the body beside her. Celona reached for her belt knife and began to work with rapt attention, humming as she did so.

Velaris groaned. No matter how far her niece had come, she was still a glutton with strange habits. 

Velaris glanced at the exile.

It was lying on its side, quiet. It had ceased struggling some time ago, tears pooling onto the ground. Looking away was no longer an option, its red-rimmed eyes fixed on the corpse that Celona was playing with, face warped by an emotion far beyond grief or despair.

Velaris sighed. This was why the Starsworn had to do their job properly. This exile couldn’t even serve as a breeding animal anymore.

“Celona. Come here.” She barked. Celona reluctantly walked over, putting away her newly acquired clippings.

“Put down the exile.”

“Why me?” Her niece's expression was the same as it always was — utterly unreadable to most, but Velaris could tell that she was upset.

“It’s good for character building, and Heaven knows you need it the most.”

The other members of the cohort almost nodded unconsciously.

Celona looked at the exile lying in the dirt, then the body she was working on, then back at Velaris. 

Exasperated, Velaris told her, “No, you cannot.”

Sighing, Celona walked across the clearing lazily and slit its throat, accidentally undoing its gag. 

The exile didn’t seem afraid of death. In fact, with dried tear stains etched onto its face, it seemed to welcome it.

“…Forgive…me……Ro…”

“Can I go now?” Celona confirmed that it stopped breathing, and glanced back at Velaris.

Velaris blinked, opened her mouth, and closed it. She didn’t know what she was expecting, the brat really only cared about eating. “Fine, but put your tools away, it’s about time for the Starsworn to rendezvous with us.” 

Then she spoke towards the cohort as a whole. “For those who have finished, I will be assigning each of you to a member of the observation unit, who will be escorting you back to Duskhold today. Tomorrow, you’ll shadow them to understand the responsibilities of the observation unit.”

Celona grunted, evidently unhappy with the arrangement.