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Dried lavender plucked from His grove in the warm months. Four twigs that had been soaked in water overnight so they would be supple enough to twist into a circle. Ash from their hearth, still warmth despite the chill it had been carried through.
Winter had overtaken the land a month ago. In turn, their god chased the dying sun to the villages, where long nights made His work easier. He sent the people dreams. Omens. Portents of things to come, or consequences to be suffered for choices made in days of endless light. Such was the way every year. He would return once the world grew in viridian green again. But there was no green to be seen at the moment, beyond that of the pine trees. The world was covered in blankets of feather-white snow. His few followers, living in the wilds close to His shrine, could no longer feel His presence.
That meant the watcher in the woods had been all but abandoned.
The Three travelled to His altar with their ritual items in hand.
They had long considered the forest's sacred guardian to be their First. But rather than a number like the rest of them, he bore a title: Vessel. If he had ever been human, it was long enough ago that the memories were nothing more than wisps of smoke; fleeting, impermanent things that were impossible to grab. If he ever had a name other than Vessel, only their god might remember it now.
Silent snow fell all around them as they made their way from the relative warmth of their home to the cold heart of the woods. Their leader, II, had opted to wear the mask reserved for the holy equinoxes and solstices. The winter solstice had not yet passed, but it was hardly like their god was around to correct him. He led the way from memory, from behind a half-skull drenched in gold that dripped into a veil to protect his mouth and throat from the fangs of the wind. The two following him wore the masks they donned for regular worship duties. Gold and gnarled wood, perfect symmetry in reverse of each other.
It was always easy to tell when they'd crossed from the woods and into His grove. The wind was still now, where before it had played with III's blond hair and tried to lift IV's hood right off his head. The feeling that the Three were being watched raised the hairs on the back of their necks, but still, they trudged through the heavy snow. That they were being watched at all was a good sign.
"Think it's gonna take him long to get here?" III asked, voice uncharacteristically soft as they approached the shrine. The air around them felt thick, weighed down by His lingering essence even if He was elsewhere.
"I hope not. I mean, I gotta stay out here first, so if I come back half-frozen and without a huge, six-eyed spirit in tow, then clearly he's taking his time." IV replied in little more than a cautious murmur.
II said nothing. His companions, for all their wondering, had missed the whisper of wind through the treebranches that formed a natural arch above them. It was a chuckle, really. Vessel might not have taken long before. He almost certainly would now.
The great oak at the center of His shrine's clearing was marked by His sigil. Resembling a sunrise, a winged figure, or arms crossed depending on His intention, it pulsed and glowed as if the tree had been struck by lightning when He was here in the warm months. Now, the carved lines were cold and charcoal black. That was just as well. His Three were not here for Him right now anyways.
III started the summons as they gathered around the stone slab that served as altar. He hummed low, as low as his vocal chords would allow, and continued to do so until it resonated with whatever was left of His presence here. The sound shifted steadily from human to something far older, far deeper. The trees used their voices to keep up the drone.
II and IV began placing the items necessary on the altar. The ash kept in a rabbit skin pouch at II's side was spread in two columns of three horizontal lines, with the top and bottom rows being shorter than the middle. No sooner had the last line been created than the ash began to crackle and spit like logs in a campfire. The flowers caught flame immediately upon being placed along the lines of ash. Their scent, sweet with an undercurrent of earth and spice, filled the clearing with sacred vapour that choked the lungs to breathe for too long.
Finally, II placed the circle of twigs on the altar. From it, grey smoke rose in a perfect cylinder until it splashed the underside of the clouds above. When His presence was stronger, signs could be found in the swirling wisps. Shapes of people, of animals, answers to questions posed and commands to be deciphered before they could be followed. Now, it simply served as a beacon.
"Vessel, First of His Chosen, we have something we would ask of you. Please do not keep us waiting. I heard that laugh, you know." II called out. "We will wait here one by one, beginning with IV and ending with myself."
And so, the voices of the trees went still.
The Three set up a shelter of pine branches and furs while the offerings on the altar burned themselves to nothingness. With a small sack of provisions left and a brief lift of the masks for good-luck kisses, III and II left IV alone in His shrine.
"…There's no way he's showing up for IV, is there?" III asked as soon as they'd crossed the border back into the woods.
"Not a chance." II replied with a roll of his eyes.
When IV returned alone two days later, that guess was proven correct. When III returned alone two days after that, all II could do was shake his head.
"If I come back without him, we're hunting him down."
Three days. Three days so far, anyways.
The sun had long since set, but the precious few hours of light were not spent idly. Vessel's absence had afforded the Three time to tend to His shrine in detail. II's gaze roamed over the snow that had been cleared from the hallowed ground, most likely by IV. Next, to the branches of the great oak tree, where gifts and trinkets had been hung by the tallest of them, the only one who could actually reach. II supposed it fell to him to rearrange the golden bowls along the tree's exposed roots and fill them with water.
A shame, really, that he needed that water for himself. Oh, well. If he were to suffer a nightmare for his negligence then so be it. At least it would prove He was still watching.
The night was bitterly cold. Frost clung to nearly everything like lichen in the summer, and the sacred mask donned only did so much to protect against the chill. Vessel had yet to show up.
II was not leaving without him.
"You're an ass, you know." II said as he poked at his small fire. He'd felt eyes on him from the moment he breached the treeline days ago, now.
A chuckle on the wind. No sign of the entity it came from.
Eyes that roamed over the shrine now peered beyond the halo of light cast by the fire, to the darkened treeline. Vessel was close enough to hear him, close enough to laugh in that musical way of his, and yet would not show himself. It could be that he was playing a game. A test of patience, to see how badly the Three truly wanted to speak with him in the official way, before they went searching for him.
Then again, it could also be that something else had his attention. Strange things lurked in the woods at night. II, having been a follower for the longest among those still human, had seen some of them with his own eyes. Shadows that warped and shifted in unnatural ways, deer who's teeth would look more at home in the mouth of a wolf, these things fell to the sacred guardian to deal with.
II saw nothing in the forest beyond. Perhaps that was a good thing.
Fatigue began to overtake him. His eyes were heavy as he searched through his sack of provisions, until his fingertips grazed a smaller bag within. Well… If Vessel was simply performing his duties, then he deserved a reward for a job well done, didn't he? II rose from the safety of his shelter and strode over to the stone altar, which bore no evidence of their ritual days before. On it, he placed a new offering:
Dried apple slices. Six in total.
"For you, old friend. I will see you tomorrow."
The night was still around him. What little breeze there was now blew stray snowflakes skyward from the tops of the piles IV had created, and made the trinkets hung up by III jingle softly as they swayed. The four golden bowls were still in disarray. Some flipped upside down. Others half-buried in snow.
It was with a slightly annoyed sigh that II walked over to them instead of the warmth of his shelter.
One by one, he wiped them clean and filled them equally with the little water he had left. Then, placed them in their proper places along the great oak's exposed roots. Worship, an act of petty defiance, these things meant nothing to a deity who was not here. But II knew for fact that he would never hear the end of it if III and IV had done their parts and he himself had not.
Once back in his shelter, under furs and with coals from his doused fire stuffed between the layers to keep him warm, sleep wasted no time in claiming II. Conscious slipped from him like sand poured into a creek until there were just enough grains left to register the words spoken to him on the wind.
"Have you been waiting long, for me?"
When those grains of sand returned to II, he was no longer alone.
There were always signs when Vessel was present, some of which were audible if one knew what to listen for. Icicles that hung off the trees surrounding the shrine crackled faintly in harmony, in something resembling a music box's wistful tune. The wind, though no stronger than the night before, thrummed at a steady drone that sat just below the hustle and bustle of birds on wing above.
Of course, there was also the signs that were harder to explain. Some ancient part of the soul's reaction to being in the presence of something inhuman; awareness, but not fear. To be near Vessel was to experience a sense of pressure that was by no means unpleasant. It was much like the spirit's embrace.
All-encompassing. Safe.
II opened his eyes and met the lavender gaze of Vessel, who sat cross-legged in front of the stone altar with the offering of dried apples in his large hands.
In warmer months, his cloak was summer leaves trimmed with gold spun from the sunrise itself. The mask that seemed as much a part of him as his skin bore His sigil in the same colours, though the gold bled down into flourishes around the space for Vessel's mouth. Now, the cloak was a shadow defined by the frost that had gathered on it from long nights spent entirely in the wilds. His mask was simple alabaster with His sigil in red over the six eye holes. Sharp edges traced the line of his cheekbones down to the cutout in the ridged lower third for his mouth, turned up in a soft smile upon seeing that II was awake.
"Good morning, dear one."
"Oh, don't you 'dear one' me, Vess. Did we not call for you a week ago?" II grumbled as he sat up, though his half-hearted complains only earned him a poorly stifled laugh from the spirit.
"You did. I have been observing, though I assure you my absence was warranted. Mostly."
The roll of II's eyes was cut short by a slice of apple being tossed to him. An apology, he supposed, though he certainly wouldn't say no if the spirit simply wished to share breakfast.
"You had something to ask of me?"
"We do. And you are lucky the question was not frozen out of our heads."
II took a moment to observe the spirit before him. Not once, even when it was too cold for the Three to go outside, had their god allowed Vessel anything warmer than his thin cloak. No tunic, no scarf, nothing more than the long silver necklaces that cascaded down his bare chest. Not once had Vessel complained. Even when he had every right to.
Even now, as he sat on hallowed ground, visibly shivering.
"Vessel, our question is this: Are you cold?"
The question was simple. And yet the guardian's head tilted to the side in confusion, six lavender eyes narrowed as if it would allow him to see the true meaning of the words. II did not elaborate. Not at first, anyways. He allowed Vessel time to digest the question while he himself ate the slice of apple thrown to him.
"…Is, is that not… simply the way of it? To freeze in the cold months, to better enjoy the warmth that comes at it's heels? Seems to me that a raven could have asked me, to save you all the trouble. It is… cold, after all."
It had always been Vessel's way, for as long as II had known him, to dance around questions about himself like the Three did around midnight fires in summer. That he admitted the air around them held a chill at all was a small miracle. It was true, though. A raven could have been sent to deliver the message. But a raven could eventually be ignored.
His followers waiting at His shrine after an official summons could not.
"I do not think it has to be that way. Creatures with fur grow winter coats to keep them warm, do they not? I have never seen a rabbit refuse to frolic through a field because it did not freeze enough in winter." II replied, his voice much gentler than before.
"You and I are not rabbits, beloved. You are human. I am… whatever it is that I am."
"And if that is true, then why should only the rabbits allow themselves the luxury?"
II rose to his feet and stood in front of Vessel. The spirit's six-headed gaze was trained on him with almost unnerving steadiness, still trying to see meaning through the blindspots trained into him. Those eyes widened and softened at the hand offered to him.
Doubly so when the top pair looked up to see the warmth in II's.
"Come. Join us at our hearth for a little while."
Vessel said nothing at first.
Rather, he took the hand outstretched to him in his own. Gingerly, reverently, as if he had been given some holy favour from the god who was not here instead of an invitation to be with the people who so clearly wanted his company. The thumb that gently caressed II's knuckles had suffered cold indifference for so long that there was no warmth to be found in it. The lips that pressed against those knuckles next felt like they'd been kissed by the spirit of winter herself first. Two pairs of lavender looked over the shrine around them. The last searched II's face for the trickery they both knew was not present, until finally, Vessel bowed his head.
The wind breathed a laughing sigh.
"Your defiance will get you into trouble someday, dear. It seems I have no choice but to accept."
It was II's turn to chuckle, to help the spirit rise from the frozen ground and to his full, looming height. He pressed a kiss as soft as a dove's coo to long fingers that felt like icicles and murmured into the cold silver of the rings that decorated them. "I will tell you until I go hoarse if I must, love. I follow His teachings to the letter. The only defiance that lives in me is for you."
His grove was, at long last, left to whatever fickle mercy winter had. One look at the clouds above, scouts ahead of an army bearing snow and wind as weapons, told II there wasn't much mercy to be found.
He and Vessel walked hand in hand through snow-blanketed fields, retracing the steps taken by the Three in days past. Smoke rose to the sky in the distance. It promised warmth; it promised hot stew and a veritable mound of furs to crawl under, until the spirit's duties to his absent deity drew him back into the woods.
Best of all, it promised the arms of their beloveds around them once again.
"How in hell does II get these stupid birds to listen to him?"
III's loud voice carried over the relative silence of the hillside to the two strolling ever closer. II couldn't help but smirk from under his mask.
"You have not taught him yet?" Vessel asked. The wind wavered with amusement, and II did not have to look to know a toothy grin had settled itself on the spirit's face.
"I will, fear not, but surely you would understand the joys of a little mischief." He replied with a laugh.
"Maybe he gives them food? Ours might be a little too hot for their beaks, but we could pour some in the snow for them?" IV offered, though he sounded just as stumped as III did.
"And waste perfectly good stew? I don't- actually… Hey! Birds! If you go ask II what the hell is taking him and Vess so long, we'll give you some nice food when you get back!"
That seemed enticing enough to the pair of ravens resting on the thatched roof of their dwelling , who flew… maybe twenty metres away and settled on II's outstretched arm. III's palm landed on his own forehead with a smack loud enough to echo off some of the surrounding trees at the sight of it.
IV very nearly fell over laughing.
The ravens enjoyed their promised stew while the four went inside their home of scorched wood and clay. For the rest of the day, there was hardly a moment where Vessel's arms were unoccupied. IV took his place as the spirit's personal heater while they joined the birds in feasting. Sure, the First among them didn't technically need to eat. But II could pinpoint the moment warmth bloomed through his frozen body from the way his shoulders dropped their tension like snow falling from the boughs of trees.
Next, III was adamant about showing Vessel exactly how to throw the dice carved out of deer-bone for their favourite board game, where wooden pieces moved on a checkered board according to the number thrown. Typically, this was a game meant for only two, and typically, it ended up being III and IV pitted against II to account for the odd number. Now, it was III, IV, and Vessel against one. II did consider going easy on them.
For all of three seconds.
"I wish to be on II's team next." Vessel said, after the sun had begun it's early descent to the underside of the Earth and his team of three had been beaten about five times in a row. "Just to see what it is like to actually win."
"Hey!" III and IV shouted in unison. The steady draft around them, a constant whenever Vessel was near, blew a staccato cackle at their sheer indignation.
Finally, as their fire cast long shadows on the wooden walls, II got his chance to feel Vessel's arms around him. The Three had shown Vessel pieces of their world outside worship for the entire time he'd been there. Now it was his turn to show them a little of his.
The spirit's unnaturally long life had granted him many strange and fantastic stories to tell. The gifts bestowed upon him to defend His lands from their enemies allowed him to show the Three gathered around him exactly what he was talking about. From his coveted position on Vessel's lap, II watched as figures of man, beast, and things that defied the Three's understanding of what was possible rose up out of the smoke.
The wind that told them tales manipulated the figures with each word.
A deer strode on grey, wispy ground, unaware of the wolf that hid behind a post not far away. A sword whistled as it's wielder brought it down on some great enemy that looked like an unholy combination of mantis, woman, and snake. The moon itself grew a maw of teeth as sharp as daggers, and when asked if it was really true, what the lesson to this one was, Vessel wore a smile as a veil.
"Whatever it means to you is what it means. I am merely a conduit for the stories as I saw them. I cannot tell you how to feel about them."
The real moon was hidden away behind clouds by the time III and IV softly snored in the single bed shared by His followers. II, almost asleep, was brought back from the brink by Vessel untangling himself from the mess of limbs that had lovingly entrapped him. He made for the door, though a pause and backwards glance at the only one still awake told II he was to follow.
II did so as silently as he could.
Together, they walked from the warmth of the Three's home and back into the chill. The clouds above moved swiftly, roiling and frothing like waves breaking on an icy shore. The wind immediately around them was calm. The wind outside Vessel's small sphere of influence was a different beast entirely. It hissed and moaned, a reminder and a warning of winter's cold cruelty. The first flakes of snow landed on Vessel's cloak, only to melt from the heat that still clung to him. A… slightly morose sigh sent his hot breath skyward as he finally turned to look at II.
"If the storm is as powerful as the clouds suggest it will be, I must ensure all of your hard work at His shrine is not undone. I have… little in the way of words to properly thank you all for allowing me the chance to dwell among you for a time." Vessel murmured. "Only a selfish request."
"If that request is to visit us again, then consider us selfish, too." II replied, stepping forward to take one of Vessel's hands in both of his own. "You are always, always welcome to walk beside us. Encouraged to, in fact."
II found himself pulled into the spirit's warm embrace. The winds around them howled with growing fury, and yet II couldn't help but allow his eyes to slip shut as he sunk into the feeling around him.
It was all-encompassing. Safe. A feeling sorely missed in Vessel's absence.
"I will return to you as often as you will have me, if only to learn what it is I have done to earn your favour."
II moved back just enough to reach up and gently pull Vessel's face down closer by the mask, to ensure he had the spirit's rapt attention. Fields of lavender, verdant in their own right, blinked back at him out of sync with each other.
"Darling, we are not Him. Our favour is not a reward, but a simple consequence of a truth that has yet to make it into that thick skull of yours." II said softly, knocking on Vessel's sigil-marked forehead to prove his point.
"And what truth is that, dear one?"
"It is this: we love you. I love you. The night does not have to belong to He who isn't here, does it? It can belong to all of us. We will gladly help you tidy the Shrine after the storm has passed. Please, weather it here instead of alone."
The wind around Vessel dropped for a few moments. The masked face before II tilted in confusion, as if it hadn't crossed the beautiful mind contained within that the option offered was one at all. Once again, he searched II for trickery they both knew couldn't be found.
"If that alone will not convince you, then how about this: Should III and IV wake up without you, you will never hear the end of their complaints."
A smile broke like dawn on the spirit's handsome face. His wind picked up again and stuttered in laughter that sounded more like a gentle summer breeze than the gale forming around them. "They have only recently stopped sighing about being pushed into the lake when it had not yet thawed entirely, and I am in no rush to give them more to complain about. Once again, it seems I have no choice but to accept."
II couldn't help but think that this was probably some kind of sin committed against His will. But if he were to suffer nightmares for it, then so be it. He led Vessel back inside, back to the warmth and comfort of those who loved him. The winds shrieked and howled furiously outside. So much snow fell from the heavens that there was no treeline to speak of, only a wall of white. That was just as well. None of them would be leaving until it passed, anyways.
II found his head gently guided to rest over Vessel's heart, where the steady rhythm of it in harmony with his sleeping lovers' snores made quick work of transporting him to the realm of dreams. Just before he crossed the threshold, however, the wind whispered softly to him once more.
"I am His, and yet my heart belongs to you. To all of you. Sleep well, love. I will not leave your side until you say the word."
Fin.