The promise of Spring was heavy in the air one Winter's morning. It was unusually warm despite the snow still blanketing the ground, but still considered cold enough to don the thick furs and heavy material they called clothing in their time. New grass and budding flowers were just beginning to peek out from under the seemingly endless white, the sky a stunning blue in contrast to the colors below. Trees, though bare of bark from the foraging creatures nearly starved in the cold weather, grew high and tall in the air, awakening from their slumber and soaking in the new rays of light just starting to heat the earth. Now was the time for birds and bears alike, still fat and plumb from their slumber, emerged to find the world once again new. Small houses, carved from wood and packed with long since hardened clay, stood slightly slanted and held up with stilts carefully placed against their foundations that had held strong and true in the bitter winds. Winter had come and gone, taking with it the lives of both young and old who would never again step out of their homes and bask in the sun, such was the way of nature.
With death, however, came new life in these wood and clay homes. As was tradition, men and women conceived their newborns long before the cold came and birthed their offspring well into the Winter, their survival a testament of their strength and their death a display of the weak. New mothers left the warmth of their beds and the comfort of their drowsy husbands to tend to their squalling babes, their stomachs lighter without the added weight inside of them. After the young were fed and quieted, the older children were awoken from their lazy dreams and given their own meals before being sent out to attend to their chores. The young lads were sent to work with their fathers, collecting wood for the hearth and hunting for supper, while the lasses stayed home with their mothers to see that the laundry and other such housework was tended to.
One such house, which stood slightly straighter than the others due to careful framework and diligent care, was no such exception. The mother threw aside her warm blankets, woke her children and husband, and set first to heat water for the laundry after dressing in her furs and thick clothing. As she lugged the water inside from the well not too far from where they lived, she found another woman standing by the hearth where her children and husband sat warming their skin before going out into the cold themselves, using the last of their wood before more was collected to create a well burning fire. The two women smiled pleasantly at each other, glad to be in each others presence and out of the threat of Winter; a great resemblance was held in the faces of these two sisters, both with hair like the earth trailing down their backs in long braids.
"Did you happen to check the sheep while you were out, Ingrid?" her husband asked as he and his two sons pulled on their thick skinned boots and tucked their pant legs in to keep the snow out.
"Yes. They seem to be fairing well," Ingrid replied as she hoisted the water pails up onto the stones of the hearth where she left them to warm, moving a piece of her earth brown hair out of her equally brown eyes. "The Spring lambs should be coming soon, as well. The ewes are looking particularly fat this year."
"Good. At least one of them should serve as a fitting offering to the Gods," Ingrid's husband, Davin, said as he stood from his stool. "Erland," he called to their eldest, "Magnus," to their youngest, "time to be on our way. The hares and squirrels will be out before long and hard to spot come the time the sun has half risen." Erland and Magnus, dead ringers for their mother, hopped down from their stools and raced to the door, Magnus excited to experience his first hunt.
"Be careful with them, Davin. Erlands first hunt, you brought him back bruised and dirt ridden," Ingrid pleaded as she stepped to send off her husband on their departure.
"The boy followed a hare down its hole. Far be it from to tell him to give up so easily," Davin laughed. Ingrid gave him a look. "Fine, fine. I will personally see to it our son stays out of hare holes and the like." He raised his right hand in promise.
"Both of them?" Ingrid raised a brow.
"Both of them," Davin nodded.
"Be sure to bring me back a fat hare or a few squirrels tonight. I would like to make a stew tonight," Ingrid smiled.
"Oh? What would be the occasion?" Davin wondered.
"Unna felt a kick late last night and early this morn. Surely that is a sign her babe is to come soon," Ingrid whispered happily in a hushed tone, she and Davin glancing over at her sister, watching her tend to the fire with a long stick with one hand and hold the swell of her stomach with the other.
"If you say so," Davin said quietly, unsure of that with the current state of Unna's stomach. He turned back to his wife and smiled despite himself. "For you, my darling, I will bring back the fatest hare and the biggest squirrel this world has ever known! The gods will be in awe of our bounty!"
"I feel certain you will," Ingrid smiled before they exchanged pecks on each others cheeks.
"Father, hurry up!" Erland beckoned from where he and his brother waited by the door, itching to be outdoors instead of cooped up like the sheep they raised. Magnus clutched his wooden hunting knife to his chest, the handmade weapon the first of his own creation and not well carved by sharp to the touch, trying his best to stand still beside Erland. "The forest creatures will not wait for us!"
"Alright, alright. Keep your boots on. I am coming," Davin shook his head at his children's patience, and collected his own hunting tools before joining them at the door and stepping out into the cold.
Ingrid could not seem to help the smile on her face as she removed the pails from the hearth and carried them over to the wash bin. "Be glad your kind has not arrived yet, Unna. You will not know peace again for some time."
"I have no wish for peace when it means my *kind will stay hidden from my sight for much longer," Unna sighed as she left the hearth and joined her sister at the bin, remembering the sounds that Erland and Magnus had made when they were just babes. "I long for the cries and bellyaching."
"You will come to regret these words," Ingrid laughed as she and Unna dumped armfuls of sheets and other clothes that needed washed, leaving them to soak for a moment in the warm water. "Soon there will be nothing but cries for you."
"All the better," Unna said lovingly as she looked at her stomach and caressed it tenderly, feeling a small flurry of kicks in reply. Though the swell was smaller than it should have been, she felt strength in her unborns movements and knew it could not be much longer until the child would join her outside of her womb. She felt in her heart of hearts that her child had drawn this strength from her late husband, Aesir.
The winter, unkind and unjust has it was, had seen to take Aesir from Unna during a hunt with Davin. The snow had been so thick and the wind so unrelenting that they could not have possibly seen where they were going. Unna and Ingrid had begged them to stay, but they were low on rations and their supply of meat was next to none. Aesir and Davin had no choice but to brave the storm or else watch their family starve. The choice was easy for them, but even with careful footing Aesir was the first to fall down a steep bank and lose consciousness; had it not been for that, Davin would surely not have had the time to brace himself and would surely have lost consciousness himself. They were found the next morning after the storm had passed, Davin shaken and cold with a swollen ankle and Aesir frozen to death, four large hares tucked in his satchel ready to be prepared for dinner. His death had nearly broken Unna and the Winter had nearly taken her as well, but their child had kept her going and brought her back from the abyss that was death's door.
Since then, however, her stomach had barely grown and she was only half the size she should have been so late in her pregnancy. Davin, as well on Ingrid when she was sure her sister was not looking, feared this did not bode well for the child. Small children tended not to last long in their environment and it was well past time for him or her to be due. Unna remained ever hopeful, though, and made it a point to tell her family when her child stirred inside of her.
"What do you hope of the gender, Unna?" Ingrid asked, trying to distract her from the thoughts she knew plagued her mind so many months after Aesir's death.
"A boy would be nice, someone to help with the hunting and sowing in the Spring, but I have always dreamt of a little girl. One with hair as dark and skin as fair as her father's," Unna said fondly, forgetting her troubles if only for a moment.
"What a handful that would be. Aesir was always a bit of a troublemaker," Ingrid chuckled, not realizing her mistake until after the words had left her mouth.
Rather than sadness, however, Unna found comfort in the memory of her late husband's antics. "One can only hope." She smiled wistfully as she removed a single tear from the corner of her eye and rubbed her hands free of it. "Enough of this melancholy talk. There are chores to be done and your little one is much too young to do them yet."
"Of course," Ingrid nodded, happy to give her something else to think about as she pulled the washing stones from the broom cupboard and handed one to her sister. The work was more or less silent, each finding solace in the quiet slosh of water that slowly began to cool and brush of stone against fabric as they did their best to clean the dirt from the thick fabrics. The sun was high in the sky, offering new warmth and causing many to put out their hearths for the time being, and just beginning to make its slow descent when she realized her family should have been back long ago. Fear gripped at her heart as she worried for a brief moment that the same fate had befallen her husband and male offspring as it had Aesir. "Where do you think they could be? Davin has never taken so long on a hunt before."
"I suspect Magnus is taking his time in trying to find a suitable catch. I still remember the tales of Erlands first hunt," Unna laughed, trying to ease her sisters worry and not think the worst had happened. Still she saw the fear in Ingrid's gaze. "How about I go and look for them? Surely they could not have gotten so far." She dropped the sheet back into the now cold water and made to stand.
"No. I will go. Will you hang the linens for me if you finish?" Ingrid asked, quick to stand and retrieve her thick skin coat.
"Of course," Unna nodded, watching Ingrid hurriedly head out the door with a spring of fear in her step. She fished the stone from the bin and washed the last bit of laundry before taking it over to the hearth and hanging them to dry by the fire. The freshly cleaned clothes steamed from the dampness that claimed them and filled the home with the smell of the hearth once again. She decided it would be best to retrieve the water for the stew now so it would be ready when Davin returned with supper and collected one the pails from where they lay on the floor, hoping the rest of her family would have returned by the time she was done.
Her child stirred inside of her again as she wrapped herself in her furs and made to walk outside. "Calm yourself, little one. We will be back in the warmth soon." She patted the swell of her stomach as she closed the door behind her, but still her child moved about, as if trying to escape the confines of her womb. She wrapped her free arm around her waist as if that would keep the unborn from moving. "Goodness, my little one. You certainly are rambunctious today. Are you worried about the others, too? I am certain they will return soon." The assault on her insides continued on as she made the short walk to the well, smiling at others as they passed to go about their busy days. "Enough, child. What is it that plagues you?" She moved her furs aside, watching as the skin beneath her dress rippled with each movement inside of her. Then, it suddenly stopped. She sighed in relief as she attached the pail to the string of the well and lowered it down into the dark below. As she was pulling the now heavy pail back up, she happened to look into the distance and noticed four figures coming toward their small village from the cover of the trees, seeing the familiar colors of her sisters deer hide coat. "There now. You see. Nothing to worry about. There they are now."
Unna smiled and raised her arm in greeting when they neared, but it was then she realized Ingrid was crying and screaming, one of the figures gripping her hair painfully by the scalp and pulling her along.
The figure in the middle was about the same size as Davin, which was why she had originally thought it was them, and the two on either side were much too tall to be either Erland or Magnus, all three clad in clothing none of them had ever seen before; they almost looked like hunters, but their garb was too well groomed and rich in color for such a thing seeing how the animals would see them coming from far away.
Unna was frozen in shock as she listened to her sisters shrieks, just barely able to realize that her shouting was bringing the other folks out of their homes to see what the noise was. The same shock gripped at everyone else when they saw one of the strangers carrying a heavy looking and blood riddled axe. Waves of gasps could be heard as they drew closer and closer, no one knowing what to do or what these people would do.
Just as Unna saw the blood on Ingrid's dress, clearly not her own, she felt fear grip at her mind. She was rooted to the ground as the middle figure, the bottom half of his face covered by a dark scarf, looked around at the crowd from where they stopped not far from the first wooden house; they seemed displeased as they regarded them, something about them not seeming to meet their standards, until their eyes landed on her. They cocked their head and looked down at the swell of her belly, still visible with her furs pushed aside, a malicious glint coming to their eyes just barely visible above the scarf about their mouth.
The figure spoke, but in a language she had never heard before. "*Quella è con bambino. Portamelo." From the sound of their voice, it was easy to tell this one was male. Something about the way he looked at her and the way the other two regarded her did not sit right with her.
The husbands had now, at least, remembered their roles and slipped inside their homes to retrieve their hunting gear. A few had axes as well, but they were nothing in comparison to the sheer size of the axe one of them carried. Now they at least had some form of protection for their families in their hands. Still, no one moved as the strangers kept their eyes trained on Unna, now just as still as the people around them armed and ready to fight should it come to that.
It seemed nothing was to be done Ingrid started beating at the arm of her captor. "You monsters! I will see you die this day! You will pay for the blood you spilt! You took my babies, you monsters!" Her cries of rage were disrupted in the end by heartbreak. Unna felt her legs regain their movement as she realized her sister's sons had been killed.
The men realized then what had happened as well and why there was blood on the axe. Anger flooded their faces now as she shoved their wives and children back toward their homes of wood and clay and raced toward these murders with revenge in mind.
The man in the middle raised his arm as they came closer and outstretched his fingers so his palm was facing out. Unna's child kicked once more and she turned just in time to run as he said in a strange tongue, "*Per de Inferno ventis, a te peto: cor eorum vanum est."
The result was instantaneous. A shock wave of red rippled out from the palm of his outstretched hand, the men nearest to him feeling the full effect and falling to the ground like rag dolls, no longer among the land of the living. The women screamed as they ushered their children inside just before they were hit as well, not quite feeling the full effect but still feeling the sting of it and falling unconscious to the ground. The children cried out in fright, all safe from the blast, some trying desperately to wake their mothers while others ran and hid under the presumed safety of their parents bed. Unna felt the wave of death hit her, but she fell neither dead nor unconscious. She had run far enough away that all she felt was a mild pain in her chest. She staggered for a step and kept running.
"*Dannazione! Sta andando via!" the figure, male, to the red death wielders right said.
"*Dopo di lei!" the figure, also male, to the red death wielders left said. He and the one to the right pulled down the scarfs on their faces and tried to run after Unna.
"No," the man in the middle said as he held his arm out in front of the two. "Abbiamo bisogno di un live per farlo funzionare e non voglio ripetere l'ultima volta. Voi due rimanete qui e arrotolate quelli che hanno vissuto." He walked at a leisurely pace toward where he could still see Unna running off toward the tree line. "Mi prenderò cura di lei." He glanced back at Ingrid, who was still making threats and bashing to no avail at the arm holding her. "E liberatevi di quello. Mi dà un mal di testa."
"You stay away from my sister, you coward! Come back and face your death! I will see you burn in Hel you miserable-!" Ingrid shouted after the man walking toward her retreating sibling, completely unaware that the man holding her brought up his axe, her head severed from her shoulders quick and easy despite her struggles.
The two remaining men walked toward the house of wood and clay they were closest to after discarding the severed head of Ingrid and her lifeless body so they could begin collecting the women and children. Their eyes showed no empathy or emotion as they threw the women over their shoulders and dumped them in the village center before dragging the kicking and screaming children out from their hiding places, their cries turning to wails when they saw Ingrid's body staining the snow in blood.
Unna ran as fast as she could across the snow covered ground, the hairs sticking up at the back of her neck warning her that she was being followed. She dared not look back for fear of either falling or being caught. Her child, heavy and restless inside of her, kicked at her, urging her on despite her loss of breath and burning legs. She knew she had to make it to the trees. It was her only hope, for there she would be harder to see and could surely hide herself until the danger had passed and then return to her village to collect Ingrid so they could both escape. She could only hope they did not hurt her sister too badly until then, innocent to the fact her sister was as dead as what little of her family was left.
Unna was nearly there. She was so close. Just a bit farther and she could reach her hand out and touch the tree. She outstretched one arm while the other instinctively wrapped around her belly. She felt something bump her palm, possibly a fist, begging her to run faster even as she felt her strength waning. Freedom was just a breath away when she felt the ghost of a touch on the back of her neck, like someone had breathed on her, and no longer had any feeling in her legs or any other part of her body. She could not react when she fell to the cold snow on her side just as she was about to touch the tree she was running for and stared with open eyes at the scenery in front of her. She heard the crunch of boots against the snow behind where she lay in a heap before they came into her vision.
A hand reached out and grasped her chin, harshly turning her face so she was facing her assailant. The man she saw was unearthly. His skin, as well as his eyes and hair, was a stunning gold that reflected the light of the sun so it appeared he was glowing. His hair, which looked soft and fluffy in the wind that blew threw it, was brushed back and fell just below his great, broad shoulders. His pupils were white against the gold of his irises, making it appear as if two dots of light were trained on her. His brows were turned up in a questioning look and his lips set in a scowl. He wore what appeared to be hunting garb, nearly the same color as his skin, that also greatly resembled armor in layers she could not possibly begin to fathom how he put them on or removed them. About his shoulders was a dark brown cloak held together by a stone that very much matched his pupils and a crown of golden ivy sat upon his head.
"Tu sei di gran lunga non Asgardiano, ma lo farai," he said in a voice that matched his unearthly appearance before dropping her head back down into the snow. He stood from his crouching position and started to head back toward the village. As he did, he flicked his hand back toward her direction and said, "Surge."
Though nothing touched her physically, Unna was lifted from the spot where she lay and sent floating on her back behind this golden creature. She could do nothing but stare at the sky as she was carried by invisible hands back toward her home, unable to move or fight back. Her head rolled to the side as they passed her home where she could still see the hearth burning and the linens drying, wishing she could go back to moments before and not have let herself or her sister walk out the door. She saw the other two men gathering the last of the children beside their mothers, uncaringly dropping them from their harsh grasps. With their scarfs down, she could see their faces clearly as well.
The one holding the axe had a boyish but thin face with dark green eyes, pale blonde hair, and dark brown brows. His skin was pale, unlike the golden man, but still seemed to glow in the light. His pale blonde hair had been swept to the side with cow-licks sticking up in his bangs and at the back of his neck, giving it an almost curled appearance and sideburns lined his cheekbones in a clear attempt to make himself look older. Upon closer look, she found he had not green eyes, but eyes like the sea she and Ingrid had once visited when they were children, an odd mix of blue and green. Rather than golden hunting armor, he wore his own variation that was a mixture of sky blue and a strange color she did not recognize because she had never seen anything in nature that was purple. A long purple cape was wrapped around his shoulders and he wore a small circlet of gold with a blue jewel resting in the center on his head.
The other was tall and broad just like the golden man, though he was visibly more muscular than his two comrades. His pecs were large on his breast and the muscles rippled with each movement of his arms and legs. His hair was as yellow as the sun, cut lower than the the other two men, and his eyes as brown as her own, though they were cold as they regarded her. His skin was dark from his days in the light and looked almost leathery, like the thick hide of a great scaled beast. He wore a white sleeveless tunic that accented his broad and muscled torso, white pants that left little to the imagination, yellow boots, gold bracelets that resembled cuffs and a matching belt around his waist, and finally a yellow cloak that trailed behind him as he walked.
"Quello è tutto, padre. Cosa faremo con loro?" the one with the boyish face said to the golden man.
"*Uccidili," the golden man waved a hand dismissively. "Non abbiamo alcun uso per loro." The one with the yellow hair pulled a bludgeoning tool from his cloak while the one with the axe raised it high above his head.
If Unna could have moved, her eyes would have widened and she would have rushed to stop them, but she was stuck in her frozen state and forced to watch as they murdered the children herded together like sheep for the slaughter. A tear rolled from the corner of her eye and soaked into her earth brown hair, unable to end the carnage or even look away. Inside of herself, she cried and cried for the children who would never live to see another day come to rise and she weeped for the mothers who died in their slumber, unknowing of the fact that their younglings were taken too soon.
The bludger and the axe carrier finished their task, not even out of breath from all their swinging. They looked to the golden man and then to her with a look of disdain.
"Dobbiamo usare un Midgardian, padre? Sono così terribilmente plain. Non possiamo usare invece un Elfo della Luce? Sicuramente vale più forza," the one with the bludgeon stuck his weapon in the ground so he would not have to hold it.
"*No. Non ho la magia per portarci a Alfheim e gli elfi sarebbero troppo difficili da catturare. Dobbiamo fare il dovuto con il Midgardian," the gold man replied. "Ora vieni. Ci dobbiamo sbrigare. Sicuramente loro hanno Heimdall che ci cercano mentre parliamo."
Unna instantly recognized the name Heimdall, but new worry and fear picked at her mind. Was Heimdall looking for them, and if so, what they done to alert the Watchman of the Gods? Was it possible that they were Gods themselves? Why had they attacked and killed her entire village, then, for they had done not but worship the Gods since the day they were born? If they were Gods, why did they need a lowly human like her? She had nothing to offer them.
That was when she remembered the way they had looked at her stomach. They were not after her. They were after her unborn. Once again, Unna wanted to kick and scream and claw at these monsters parading as men, but she could do not but lay suspended in the air and held by hands she could not see. She was left to the mercy of the Gods and it seemed even they had forsaken her. What did she even have left? Her husband had died. Her sisters sons and husband were gone. She had not even seen Ingrid since being forced to come back. All she had now was her child, and even that was about to be taken away from her.
The golden man flicked his wrist toward one of the now empty of life homes and a long wooden table came floating out of the doorway. It slid itself underneath Unna and she felt herself and the table being lowered to the ground at the direction of his hand.
"*Non avremmo dovuto venire qui se qualcuno avesse seguito il piano," the bludger said to the axe carrier.
"*Non era colpa mia che Heimdall vide ciò che stavamo facendo e avevamo avvertito Odin. Tu sei tu che doveva tenere l'orologio," the axe wielder said back. Unna had clearly heard Odin's name and knew it must truly be serious if the king of the gods had to be involved.
"*Vero, ma dovresti essere il tutto vedendo uno che può prevedere il futuro. Dov'era la tua magia quando ci serviva?" the bludger retorted.
"*Come provare a prevedere qualcosa per il cambiamento? Perché non provare la tua mano a questo?" he swung the side of his axe at the bludger, catching him off guard and hitting him square in the jaw.
"*Voglio terminare la tua vita, piccolo bastardo!" the bludger shouted once he regained his bearings and moved to swing at the axe wielder.
"*Freya! Freyr! Basta di questo!" the golden man commanded. The two young immediately stopped and hung their heads in shame. "*La nostra magia si trova sull'orlo della dissipazione e tu entrambi vuoi agire come i bambini viziati? Non sento più chi è colpa. Sono chiaro?"
"*Sì, padre," Freya and Freyr nodded.
"*Buona. Ora preparatevi. Il rituale è pronto per iniziare."
The three of them circled around Unna and raised their hands palms up so they were facing the sky. She did not know what they had planned, but she knew it would not end well for her or her child.
Translations: ((The Vanaheims talking was translated from Italian and the spells from Latin. I almost had them speaking German, which is what they spoke in Nordic times, but I didn't think it would suit them seeing how they're from a different realm and decided Italian would be best for the way it rolls off the tongue.))
*Kind- child
*Quella è con bambino. Portamelo.- That one is pregnant. Bring it to me.
*Per de Inferno ventis, a te peto: cor eorum vanum est- By the winds of Hel, I ask of thee, let them fall.
*Dannazione! Sta andando via!- Damn! She is getting away!
*Dopo di lei!- After her!
*No. Abbiamo bisogno di un live per farlo funzionare. Voi due rimanete qui e arrotolate quelli che hanno vissuto. Mi prenderò cura di lei.- No. We need a live one for this to work and I do not want a repeat of last time. You two stay here and round up the ones that lived. I will take care of her.
*Tu sei di gran lunga non Asgardiano, ma lo farai- You are certainly no Asgardian, but you will do.
*Quello è tutto, padre. Cosa faremo con loro?- This is everyone, Father. What shall we do with them?
*Uccidili. Non abbiamo alcun uso per loro.- Kill them. We have no use for them.
*Dobbiamo usare un Midgardian, padre? Sono così terribilmente plain. Non possiamo usare invece un Elfo della Luce? Sicuramente vale più forza.- Must we use a Midgardian, Father? They are so terribly plain. Can we not use an Elf of Light instead? Surely they are worth more power.
*No. Non ho la magia per portarci a Alfheim e gli elfi sarebbero troppo difficili da catturare. Dobbiamo fare il dovuto con il Midgardian. Ora vieni. Ci dobbiamo sbrigare. Sicuramente loro hanno Heimdall che ci cercano mentre parliamo.- No. I do not have the magic to take us to Alfheim and the elves would be too difficult to catch. We will have to make due with the Midgardian. Now come. We must hurry. Surely they have Heimdal looking for us as we speak.
*Non avremmo dovuto venire qui se qualcuno avesse seguito il piano- We should not have come here if someone had followed the plan
*Non era colpa mia che Heimdall vide ciò che stavamo facendo e avevamo avvertito Odin. Tu sei tu che doveva tenere l'orologio.- It was not my fault Heimdall saw what we were doing and warned Odin. You were the one who was supposed to be keeping watch.
*Vero, ma dovresti essere il tutto vedendo uno che può prevedere il futuro. Dov'era la tua magia quando ci serviva?- True, but you are supposed to be the all seeing one who can predict the future. Where was your magic when we needed it?
*Come provare a prevedere qualcosa per il cambiamento? Perché non provare la tua mano a questo?- How about you try predicting something for change? Why not try your hand at this?
*Voglio terminare la tua vita, piccolo bastardo!- I will end your life, you little bastard!
*Freya! Freyr! Basta di questo! La nostra magia si trova sull'orlo della dissipazione e tu entrambi vuoi agire come i bambini viziati? Non sento più chi è colpa. Sono chiaro? -Freya! Freyr! Enough of this! Our magic sits on the brink of dissipating and you both want to act like spoiled children? I will hear no more of who is to blame. Am I clear?
*Sì, padre- Yes, father.
*Buona. Ora preparatevi. Il rituale è pronto per iniziare.- Good. Now prepare yourselves. The ritual is ready to begin.