Who am "I"? Duskengloam (they/them, gray/white mercorn)
The oldest, the one who bears the brunt of responsibility. A reluctant soldier who knows better than to deviate from the orders of old.
Who are "They"? The restless sense of guilt manifest. A shadow crawling up your back. The moment when, alone, you hear someone call your name. A creeping sense of deja vu. A heartbeat that delays just a little too long.
You were told they were
Awakened, but not wholly what it meant. But you knew the implication: this reality was nothing more than a dream and they had become something
more by breaking free of it
. And all they want to do is bring you down with them, to stop sleeping beneath a fake celestial tapestry and to seek the truth down below. They want you to open your eyes and join them.
To wake up.
What is the Ritual? The ritual is what keeps them asleep. One almost could say they are tucking monsters in every night.
Dinner is served. A simple affair, a small creature is humanely killed, though if it bears any eyes their lids are carefully peeled off. The mers believe that this facsimile of
awakening - that is, a beast that can no longer close its eyes to the truth - appeases any that might have stirred between rituals. Tied to a heavy stone, they sink their offering in the middle of the swamp and hope they have not chosen wrong this time...else They might decide to come from the depths and hunt for themselves.
Fireflies are gathered en mass, jars and jars of the creatures brought out and then released over the murky waters.
Stars, you remind them. It is late. It is time to go to bed. The lights blink in and out, a hypnotic pattern that can sometimes even soothe their keepers.
A lullaby is sung once the lights are dancing. They must keep their voices soft but strong and never out of tune, and they must be still whether in the water or on land. Excessive movement may wake the Awakened, much like an ornery foal.
What is our Chant? Less a chant and more of a song, it is the most important part of the ritual.
Giant sleeps beneath the water
Breaking fast on false-made dreamer
O our awakened redeemer
Filling up from chosen slaughter
Sleep, for there is time to spare
Sleep, and hear our prayer
Nothing stirs above you now
All have gathered here to praise
Silent, they embrace our ways
And sleeping ever disavow
Sleep, for there is time to spare
Sleep, and hear our prayer
The work has already been done
Faithful gathered full of patience
All completed by 3 agents
That know your grace has already won
Sleep, then, with fealty we swear
Sleep, then, without a care
Is it all Real? If it's been passed down from their parents and their grandparents and so forth...It's real enough. For just because it's in the mind doesn't mean it doesn't matter.
And who...are You? medigel