Double update. Read Lithoniel 9.4 first.

First draft

Lithoniel walked aimlessly, nodding absentmindedly when someone greeted her. She soon left the main hall and moved deeper and deeper into the cave, the temperature suddenly dropping as she left the campfires and walked through those dark tunnels. The sudden silence offered her a bit of solace, but it didn't last long.

Some minutes---or hours---later, she heard something, a voice echoing across the cave. It was low and weak at first, muffled by tons of rock, but as she kept walking, it became more clear. Lithoniel jolted, the fog lingering in her brain vanishing without a trace when she understood who was talking.

Garluin.

She went up, then down, following his voice. The tunnel slithered for about fifty meters before making one last turn. Then it suddenly widened, turning into an ample room. It was much smaller than the main hall, but it was still big enough to accommodate hundreds of people.

Lithoniel sneaked around, hiding behind a wall as she took a peek. Then she suppressed a shudder, covering her mouth with her hands as she tried to dampen the scream rising from her throat. The only thing she could hear was Galruin's voice, but the room was completely full. Hundreds of people were kneeling on the hard stone, raptly listening to the man at the center of the room. Garluin was sitting on a stone bench, slightly elevated above his followers like a king on his throne.

He wore a finely-woven black robe as he looked down at his subjects, his gaze benevolent, though a bit remote. The expression on his face was a bit odd like he was a father looking at his children, and at the same time, a God pleased with his creations.

"...a thousand years had passed, but the humans are still the same." His voice was low and sibilant, but encompassing and dreadfully close like he was whispering in her ear, "Invaders, rapists, murderers."

"Invaders!" "Rapists!" "Murderers!"

The crowd started mumbling, repeating his words until their voices merged and all she could hear was a collective scream, a long and delayed echo.

"They took our magic, destroyed our lands, butchered our children. And now...now they enslave us, treat us like cattle." Garluin rose, his green eyes glittering in the darkness, "Enough."

His whispered, and that single word soon turned into a shrill shriek as the crowd joined him, amplifying his voice like they were an extension of his will, stringless puppets obeying voiceless commands.

"But fear not, the age of death and misery is over. Their time is over!"

Lithoniel bit her lips, shuffling her feet when he theatrically waved his hand. From where she stood, she couldn't see what he was pointing at, but judging from the gasp rising from the crowd, it was nothing good.

Her eyes widened when she saw a few elves carrying something. No, not something but someone. It was a man. He wore a strange ebonwood mask, almost like a twisted and screaming face, but his body was too big and muscular. It wasn't an elf, but a human being.

He was tied to a pole like a pig as four elves carried him, getting up the steps until they reached Garluin. Then they stopped, cutting the rope before putting him down. The human didn't struggle and just flopped forward when they forced him to kneel. He was so weak they had to hold him up.

Lithoniel looked past them and realized Garluin was holding a curved dagger.

"Only through death, life is created." He said.

Then he drew the knife, his followers lowering their heads and joining their hands in prayer as the deep sound of drums reverberated around the cave. Their voices rose as they repeated Garluin's words, and the prayer turned into a gloomy litany.

Sweat trickled down her spine when Garluin approached the man, the naked blade in his hands brushing against his throat as a single drop of blood came out of it, pouring down the floor. Then Garluin halted, turning to face the crowd. The people stood up, then knelt again, lifting their hands above their hands before putting them on the cold stone. They moved in unison like mirror images, repeating the same gesture three times. Then the drum suddenly stopped, that odd litany  dying down as Garluin slit the man's throat. The human gurgled, suddenly opening his eyes as Garluin's hand closed around his throat like he wanted to strangle him. Yet, he wasn't just trying to kill him. He was keeping pressure on the wound, extending the man's agony.

Garluin looked disappointed when the man finally keeled over. Silence reigned in the room as he stared at his motionless body. But then he looked up, his eyes roaming over the crowd like he was searching for a new victim. Lithoniel stopped breathing when he lifted his bloody finger and pointed it at a woman. It wasn't a human this time, but an elf.

She was a bit older than Lithoniel, maybe in her middle twenties. As soon as Garluin pointed at her, she stood up. She walked toward him and knelt, her shaky hands betraying an emotion that had nothing to do with fear. Her gaze was feverish and her lips parted as she looked up at Garluin, observing him while he touched her face, staining her forehead with a trail of blood.

"Only through sacrifice, victory is achieved." He said to the crowd.

Then he abruptly turned, shoving the knife's into her chest up to the hilt. The woman opened her mouth wide, but she didn't scream. She looked in pain, but there was something more beyond that pain; a strange ecstasy like she was enjoying it, feeling some kind of twisted pleasure. It didn't last long and then she was dead, her blood streaming down her chest.

"Only through blood, our land can be healed." Garluin said as he crouched down, his hands and kneels sinking into the blood pooling into the ground.

He anointed his face with it and only when it turned into a bloody mask he stood up.

"Blood, that's the source of our rebirth. Shed it, spread it across the land, let the Sea of Ember feed on our enemies' flesh and bones, their lives nurture our sacred soil." He opened his arms wide like he wanted to hug the crowd, "For their deaths is our life."

"For their death is our life!" The people around shouted, repeating his words.

Fear clawed through her as she looked at their faces. They were grotesque, twisted beyond recognition. Unwittingly, she took a step back, but there was a wall behind her. She bumped into it, and a few people turned their heads to look at her. Panic assailed her, her intentions to stay calm evaporating like dry ice on a hot summer day. Then she ran, ran without looking back.