Soon night fell on Dunul, and all the citizens who had not converted to the Light of Aelius knelt around four inert bodies.
Mothers and wives wept as they embraced their husbands, children, and fathers, seeking comfort in the midst of so much pain.
The old Owen was among them, his face crestfallen and his gaze flickering with a mixture of pain and anger. He had lost his daughter because of his foolishness in trusting a young man who could only think with his little head, and now four good men had fallen in the beginning of the search for her.
If that boy were still in Dunul, he would strangle him to death, but unfortunately he had left for Noster.
At that moment, Rolan's figure appeared, dressed differently than usual. He wore a long black cloak that dragged on the muddy ground, bells that rang with every step he took, and a lamp on a large staff that glowed in neutral light in his hands.
He passed all the kneeling people and the light spread with more fervor as he approached the dead, illuminating the entire village square and causing everyone there to bow their heads.
Standing in front of the bodies, Rolan planted his staff in the ground and prepared to begin his ritual.
This was something he would hardly have done had Lugh been present, mainly to avoid any major friction between them since Greg had banned any worship of his gods. But now, with Lugh gone and Greg dead, he had such freedoms, and though many in the village had already converted to Aelius, Rolan firmly believed that those who still respected their roots wouldn't cause trouble.
"Badb... The warrior who brings wars." Rolan knelt as he spoke, his hands still running over the staff, the light from which had now taken on a red color.
"Macha, the prophetess who carries the souls of the dead..." Rolan used his teeth to tear off one of his fingers, and the lamplight took on a silver color.
"Morrigan... The great queen who brings death." And with the blood that flowed, Rolan wrote three letters on the ground, representing the initials of each of these goddesses, and finally the lamp turned black.
At that moment, three loud squawks sounded, and even Rolan lowered his head as the light from the lamp went wild, alternating between black, red, and silver at irregular intervals, emitting a powerful and oppressive aura.
At that moment, three one-eyed ravens flew through the air, accompanied by the squawking and the oppressive aura. The first was silver and had a single blue eye in the center of its face, the second was red and had a single purple eye, while the last and the one with the most powerful aura was black and had a single red eye.
Rolan then opened another wound in his other hand and poured his blood over the four corpses while chanting in a long-forgotten language.
The ravens seemed to understand and nodded at Rolan's words. They then flew to the ground and landed on the corpses, their eyes filtering the old man with curiosity for a few split seconds before their bodies began to dissolve into light, enveloping the corpses as they fell to the ground.
Suddenly, roots broke through the earth with a deafening snap as they slowly wrapped around the bodies of the dead, and everyone raised their heads to watch with pained faces as the roots pulled the bodies down and the earth slowly swallowed them up.
By the time everyone realized it, the earth had closed in and the roots had disappeared, along with the bodies of the dead.
The pressure stopped and the light in Rolan's lamp went out as thunder and lightning broke through the clouds and rain began to fall for a few seconds before turning into a powerful storm.
Slowly, people began to get up and head for their homes, leaving only Rolan's pensive figure behind.
The old man got up after a few seconds, and without paying much attention to the rain, he walked slowly to the front door of his house, not caring that his wet clothes were dripping on the floor.
He gently opened the door to his bedroom and saw that his wife was still asleep in their bed with a necklace in her hands and dried tears on her face.
"Ah..." Rolan sighed and walked into his living room before opening a bottle of wine on the table and taking a long sip.
He was stressed, and the thought of sleep was not even on his mind; in a single afternoon, his problems had multiplied in size and intensity. He had lost his son, he had lost more than fifty people in a goblin attack and now he had discovered that those bastards were gathering people for a profane ritual and would probably be in Dunul very soon to finish their job.
"I'll need to retire soon..." Rolan leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes for a few seconds, only to be brought out of his daze by a brief flash of light in his vision.
"Hm?" Rolan opened his eyes to see three lights in red, black and silver shining through his window onto the village square.
His eyes almost popped out of their orbits and without hesitation Rolan ran back outside, ignoring all the rain, only stopping when he was back in front of the three crows and the gigantic pressure fell on him again, forcing him to his knees.
"P-please..." Rolan begged, but there was no response from the crows, who just watched him with a cold look on their faces.
Just as the man was about to collapse, they took flight and broke into dozens of rays of light that flew towards Rolan and fell to the ground just below him, destroying the earth and releasing a colossal amount of mana that nearly drowned the old man and turned into letters that formed words.
Only after a few seconds did Rolan recover and finally read what was written on the ground, the words fading as his vision passed over them.
[A traveler from another world, the monarch of the red eyes. He will lead your people to glory].
Monarch of Red Eyes? Traveler from another world? Rolan pondered in his mind, his vision filling with fanaticism, and a single name came to mind.
"Arthur."
[NT: Those who know Celtic culture may be familiar with the three names Rolan spoke of. I just want to say that they're not the same as in the original mythology, and I only used them as a basis to create my own version of them for this novel. And this will apply to any god with a name from any mythology from any culture in the real world].