In Tribute (12) : In the days leading up to the Star Festival, small stone shrines began to appear randomly throughout Destiny City–on rooftops, in alleyways, hidden down long forest paths. They’re small, altar-like platforms with a little bowl in the center and a single glowing stone inside. There’s something peaceful, refreshing, about the shrine, even if no one seems to know who is setting them. However, if the stone is removed, the glow vanishes–along with your sense of peace. This was not your offering to take. Immediately, you feel something breathing on the back of your neck but there’s nothing to be seen. Returning the stone returns the area to an uneasy stillness, but if you attempt to leave without returning the stone, a mounting pressure and anxiety will grow within you. You never make it far from the shrine before some unseen force overtakes you. It feels like a great force collides into your back, and unconsciousness is quick to follow. When you awaken, the shrine is gone. All that remains is pain and fear. If you are tempted to leave an offering of your own, however small, you will find yourself feeling as though you have received the protection of something greater than you can understand. This strange blanket of security will last for the remainder of the day. A shrine never stays in the same place for long but no one ever sees who is setting them up or taking them down.
In Tribute (12) : In the days leading up to the Star Festival, small stone shrines began to appear randomly throughout Destiny City–on rooftops, in alleyways, hidden down long forest paths. They’re small, altar-like platforms with a little bowl in the center and a single glowing stone inside. There’s something peaceful, refreshing, about the shrine, even if no one seems to know who is setting them. However, if the stone is removed, the glow vanishes–along with your sense of peace. This was not your offering to take. Immediately, you feel something breathing on the back of your neck but there’s nothing to be seen. Returning the stone returns the area to an uneasy stillness, but if you attempt to leave without returning the stone, a mounting pressure and anxiety will grow within you. You never make it far from the shrine before some unseen force overtakes you. It feels like a great force collides into your back, and unconsciousness is quick to follow. When you awaken, the shrine is gone. All that remains is pain and fear. If you are tempted to leave an offering of your own, however small, you will find yourself feeling as though you have received the protection of something greater than you can understand. This strange blanket of security will last for the remainder of the day. A shrine never stays in the same place for long but no one ever sees who is setting them up or taking them down.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen them, actually. The stone shrines had started cropping up early on during the DC's summer festivities, possibly even before then, and up until now he'd never paid them any mind, but it was a little hard to ignore one that was perfectly centered at the foot of a rather massive tree in a park toward the outskirts of the city. It was far too reminiscent of a gravesite for his level of comfort, so he had initially tried to just...pass it by.
The last thing he wanted was a ghostly something or other on his tail. Not tonight. Not when he wanted to just...get home. He'd had a great deal on his mind of late, mainly about the recent happenings with the Calamitous Hollow and his unbelievable encounter with the Dark Star.
A far too personal encounter.
Face-to-face.
In the middle of who actually knew where in the galaxy.
The main point was that he had disappeared from Earth during that encounter, leaving Einhornhohle on the battlefield, and his daughter and mother–the only two other family members he had on Earth–behind and without a reasonable explanation for his going missing. Of course, during the actual event he wasn't aware of all this. It was only after the fact, after he'd come back, that it all started to dawn on him.
He denied it at first, imagined it all as a bad dream or bizarre hallucination from something on that battlefield. There was so much going on that even now it all still felt so much like a blur. But the more he thought about it, the more he tried to remember the order of events–from the beginning of the storm all the way to the close of the battle, and everything in between–the more he was forced to accept that it was, in fact, not a dream.
That it had happened, and that he had effectively left all his loved ones behind, even if only temporarily.
When he was finally able to accept it for the truth that it was, it weighed heavily on his mind. A paralyzing agent that rooted him in place to loop imagined scenarios in his mind of what would have happened had he not returned. All "what ifs" that he could do absolutely nothing about, but all still possibilities given his choice to keep on with being a Knight. He considered it as much his responsibility as anything in his civilian life, so abandoning it was not an option (even if he didn't spend as much time as he probably ought to trying to figure out what he was meant to do as a Knight besides being a punching bag for Chaos), which only left the one choice, and up to now he'd been totally fine with that.
Up until he was forced to look at, and to some degree even experience, the very painful possibility of a worst case scenario.
Suffice it to say that Kiringul was incredibly preoccupied for the majority of his patrol. Enough that he was able to ignore the first shrine, but it was a different stone shrine that had gotten him to actually stop.
This one was placed perfectly centered amidst the flowers of a more expansive garden located inside one of his favorite parks. He enjoyed passing by whenever he was in this specific area, usually on his way home. It was often a meditative space for him, so it made sense even to him that he got caught here by a shrine for a second time that evening.
The peace that had settled over him as he took a seat in front of it was...surprising. His shoulders felt lighter, and his mind felt less muddled with what he could only imagine–at least now, while he had a clearer head–were anxious thoughts and generally negative emotions. Pink eyes fell to the glowing stone on one side, and he wondered in passing who put this shrine here in the first place.
Had they been the one to place this stone, as well?
Leaning forward, he tried to get as good a look at the stone as he could manage without touching it. While he wasn't particularly religious himself, if gods were real, then it could only spell trouble if he took an offering that was meant for one. He'd be lucky if it was a benevolent one that would forgive him if he simply put the stone back, but what if it was a vengeful one?
Kiringul tried his best to ignore the chill that ran down his spine at the thought, and instead straightened himself out and tried to think back on the times his mom had brought him with her to her temple visits. The religions may have not aligned, but it...seemed pretty straightforward. Hopefully the thought behind leaving an offering counted more than proper practice, if there was such a thing for this specific shrine.
Plucking a bag from his subspace, he pulled a pebble out from it before sending it back, and he stared down at it in his palm for a moment before closing his fingers around the smooth stone. The Squire then closed his eyes and focused for a moment, feeling the warmth in his hands before he opened his eyes to see a bright light forcing its way out from his enclosed fist.
"I guess I should just be grateful," he said with a little sigh, cutting his focus and watching as the light immediately disappeared. "For these," he went on, leaning forward to set his stone on the altar.
"And for being allowed back at all."
So he resolved to leave it here–the wallowing, the overthinking, the closing off of himself from the people that he loved and that he knew cared for him. There were some things to fix still; things to talk through, discuss, and dissect to make better sense of everything that had happened.
There were priorities that needed doing, too.
Taking a deep breath as he again straightened out in his seat, Kiringul closed his eyes and quieted his thoughts as best he could, trying to bring himself into a meditative state. After a moment, he pressed his palms together in front of his chest in a rather unfamiliar pose as he quietly...prayed, as it were.
To whatever god or guardian this little stone shrine belonged to, if there was one at all, as thanks for allowing him a moment in front of its shrine and giving him clarity on his situation.
Once all was said and done he got up and dusted off his backside, resting his pink eyes on the two stones that were now on the altar, and smiling a small, grateful smile at the sight. And he lingered for a bit longer before finally heading the rest of the way home (or as close to home as he dared to get while powered), a surprising calm still settled over him as he went.
1167 (gdocs)
