As a faith lacking extensive history and ordained men and women of the cloth, the Order of War and Flame didn't have many orthodox "religious" rites.
After all, the subject of their reverence was not a pious being deserving of upright faith. It was wicked and irreverent, and hated the Gods. And so, the Order's rites were more occult than they were religious.
Led by Cardinal Weiss and a few other notable members of the Order, they made their way through the corridor outside the Pit's doors of heavily tempered steel. It was damp as always, but the pungent scent of blood had vanished, leaving the musk of mildew behind.
All that blood — old and new, virgin and tainted — had flowed inside Kieran, giving him his current look. His fingers looked thicker, slightly larger, and more resilient, with nails tapered to resemble a beast's sharpened claw.
His face had also lost what remained of that stubborn, childish pudge. His cheeks were slender and defined but not concave like the sickly had looked. His devilishly handsome appearance gave off an air of danger and severity like a dark force akin to a demon had been awakened.
Kieran's dark hair had grown in length and thickness, too, falling down his back in a wild deluge. Before, it was abyss-black in color, but now, it seemed a mix of black with vermilion hints.
Lastly, and perhaps most noticeable was the change to Kieran's eyes. Something dark and dire danced within those deep eyes. They were like staring into the boundless depths of an abyssal sea. A sea drowned with the blood of those it had devoured.
An ominous mix of black and crimson spread throughout Kieran's prominent features.
As Kieran walked calmly behind the others, it was as if he represented asperity and grimness.
No other could compare to him in terms of presence.
Soon, they had passed a set of long stairs leading into the Temple above the Stone Hold, not the crypt that passed alongside the underground prison and then led into the outside.
Cardinal Weiss led with a moderate pace before slightly turning his head to look Kieran in his silent eyes. They seemed calm on the surface, but underneath was a raging turbulence. A great storm where chaos and turmoil could be found in abundance.
Looking at him with quiet contemplation, Cardinal Weiss nodded. Then, he spoke.
"First comes the Acceptance, which has been started. You have accepted the Blood of the Fallen and gained power with it, but now it is time for the Order to accept you."
Kieran gave a nod, bereft of much feeling.
When he blinked, it was strange. His eyes remained closed for longer than need be while the absorbed resentments whispered to him, and then he opened his eyes with cold indifference.
A kind of frigid, lifeless flame burned in his eyes. A cold fury so icy it burnt.
Kieran wasn't surprised by what he saw after entering the Temple of War and Flame. It resembled an admirable church building, except it lacked windows that bore art through cathedral glass.
What it lacked in artistry, however, it made up in exquisite runework. At least, that's what Kieran thought they were. They looked awfully like runes.
Cardinal Weiss noticed Kieran's gaze wandering to the inscribed arches and pillars.
"Interested in the marking, yeah? They're sigils. Apparently, it is a language of the Gods, and it was bestowed upon us by the Flame. Our Great One taught many of us the importance of it. Similar sigils exist in that blade you wield."
ραΠdαsΝοvel.cοm Apparently, the sigils Cardinal Weiss spoke of instilled strength and resilience and gave permanence. In those aspects, these sigils were similar to the Supreme Lettering but not as potent.
Lacking, in Kieran's humble opinion.
'The Gods likely derived these sigils from Eni's work… or perhaps Eni used their sigils as the foundation to perfect his craft.'
Kieran didn't know the relationship there, but only one inference could be valid. If Eni was not as ancient as his vast knowledge portended, then it was likely the latter assumption that was closer to the truth.
'Perhaps the Gods referred to beings beyond the Endless. Or, it could be a situation similar to the Myths where they're acknowledged by generations. Maybe the Flame bears unbridled hatred for the earliest generation of Gods. Old Gods?'
Kieran thought about it but soon shrugged those curious questions away because of the upcoming rite. Cardinal Weiss had led the gathering of followers through the spacious vestibule where slightly cracked alabaster pillars rose to support the archways.
From the vestibule, they clambered through the nave, transept, and sanctuary and finally arrived at the altar. It was a spartan altar made to worship the Flame, but it was inscribed with abstruse sigils that, when looked at, depicted an exquisite flame with a gold inlay.
The Flame.
Cardinal Weiss stood before the altar and positioned Kieran so that the sigil's breadth separated them. Whereas the Cardinal of War and Flame stood on unmarked stone flooring, the recently awakened Condemned Fiend stood inside a pentacle.
Where the points met the circles, candles lit with crimson flame flickered. Eventually, the sigil was ignited with that same flame.
"Kneel inside the pentagram and accept this name, glory, and title I bestow upon you the Rite of Acceptance, Bestowal of a Name, and Vows of the Unspoken."
Kieran tarried in place, then finally half-knelt inside the pentacle's clear space in the center.
"The Flame has accepted you, so we welcome you with open arms. Pay heed: We bring no dishonor to the Flame's honor, we do no harm to the Flame, and the Order of the War and Flame exists to fight the Flame's War. We seek to elevate its prestige so it may thrive and be whole again. You were asleep… but you have awoken."
Cardinal Weiss paused as the followers of War and Flame pricked their fingers and let it flow into the pentacle, feeding the crimson fire until it became an inferno that engulfed Kieran's body.
"Though you are awake, you must be purged to become pure. All defiance shall be burnt away as the Flame flows in. Remember well, for you are the Flame's Condemned Fiend, the Great Firebearer, and its Chosen Bathed In Blood. You are the Keeper of the Flame's Duty and Knower of its Valor. Voiceless… you shall be bestowed an Unspoken Name from these merits."
Cardinal Weiss closed his eyes and then continued with spread arms.
"Confluence of Glorious Valor and Grim Duty — your name is Valdu!"
"Valdu!"
"Valdu!"
"Valdu!"
The followers chanted the name in unison, but Kieran remained still as the crimson flame washed over him. However, it couldn't burn him. It only warmed his skin and melted the unseen layer of crusted blood encasing his body.
"Bearer of the Flame's Valor and Duty — Valdu — you are a Voiceless matured. You will win no glory as an Unspoken, for it will all go to the Flame. You shall speak no command and only pay heed to the duty given. You are without a voice, so you shall never lead. You are made to be a weapon, the bane of that which contains. A force to strike at the heart."
An eerie silence spread throughout the Temple's sanctuary and before the altar as Kieran nodded to these vows.
"Arise, Valdu — the Flame's Condemned Fiend — you have gained an Unspoken Name."
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