“Xito, the Blood. Ah... He's the weird one of the bunch. Patron-god of... well, blood, as far as we know. The doctors like him, I guess. We do sacrifices in his name, sometimes. Gutting dead animals, draining the blood, things of the sort, yep, that's for him. So, depending on the countries, he's something akin to the god of death, I suppose – though some prefer to see Atharemine in that role, or even Irixil and his plagues. It wouldn't be far-fetched to see him as the god of life too, 'cause I mean, blood and all that, but hey, seriously. We already have Viera, Atharemine and Pelirise fighting for the job, isn't that enough?

-unmotivated servant of Xito”

* * *

Rina

Today was the great day. The day her life would change forever. The day she'd say farewell to her parents, Horace, Rickael, and the others.

The day she'd leave the village and go to Callir.

She barely slept, that night. She was too excited, too anxious, too eager, too scared, too everything. Rina feared the whole thing was only a dream, and that'd she's soon wake up – then a moment after, she wished it was a dream. She wanted to go, yet she wanted to stay. All sorts of thoughts were buzzing in her mind, it was loud, frightening.

She barely slept, though when dawn came, she had never felt so energetic. She sat on the bed and glanced to the side. Her brother was still sleeping, so she shook him in order to wake him up.

“Astrael,” she whispered. “Astrael!”

He grunted and finally dared to open one eye. He glared at her from the corner of it. “...Hm. You seem very lively. Is today a special day?”

You prick! She puffed up her cheeks and slapped him on the shoulder repeatedly. I know you're doing it on purpose anyway.

“Fine, fine. I merely quipped, sweet sister.” Ha! Knew it. “No need to unleash your fury on your poor brother.” Since she wouldn't stop, he grumbled. “Now stop hitting me or I won't go with you to Callir.”

She complied, even though she knew he'd still go no matter what. They got off the bed and went to wake their parents. The family had breakfast together, but the atmosphere was slightly tense. It was no surprise to Rina, however. If she was apprehending her departure, her parents were bound to share some of that nervousness too.

Yes, the whole family was nervous. Except Astrael, apparently. He didn't look like he cared about anything at all. Oh! Her mouth was agape at the sudden realization. Maybe he was excited, actually, and he didn't sleep much? He must be angry because I woke him up.

There was no way he wasn't eager to discover the city of Callir, after all. She knew he wasn't only going for her sake, of course. Her brother was smart – smarter than any child in the village, she thought. It was only natural that he would want to go to the city. He would do great over there, she was sure of it. She could not imagine the opposite. She admired him. As far as she recalled, it had always been that way.

It had been like that, too, on the day she learned about the mark. That day, she felt strange. She felt that something was wrong, that she wasn't really the right person for the job, something along these lines. Yes, Astrael was the right person.

Yet she had been the one to receive Xito's mark. Why? It should have been Astrael. Why her? What could she do? Astrael had always been the smart one, the mature one. Always Astrael, so why? As the days went by, she had been getting more and more anxious. That mark meant responsibilities. Expectations. From everyone. A mountain of things to accomplish, half of which she didn't even know about, but she felt all of the pressure behind it.

Astrael, though, he could have done all that, she thought back then. He would have had no trouble. It should have been him, she used to repeat in her mind, it should have been him. She had been dealing with the guilt ever since that day. The feeling that she had been stealing away some great destiny that was meant for her brother. The guilt, and then, the frustration. She would not be able to do anything, the mark was a burden – Astrael's burden. Why was she the one who had to carry it?

Looking back, she felt she had been harbouring very immature thoughts. She had never voiced any of that, of course. It wouldn't have done her any good. Astrael did not speak of that matter either. He kept silent about it, right until the day he suddenly tackled the matter.

He said that he'd go with her. That he'd come with her, if she wanted him to. He promised, and somehow understood what she was going through, even though no one else seemed to get it. He was her brother alright. The following days, she felt dumb. She was angry at herself, angry about the way she had been looking at her brother. With eyes full of frustration, jealousy, confusion.

“What's wrong, Rina?” her mother inquired.

“Hm?” She snapped out of her thoughts, and realized she was frowning with her eyes fixed on Astrael. “Nothing, I was just thinking,” she said with an embarrassed smile.

“Then please don't think too much,” Astrael said. “I feel like it will end up killing me. I must say, beloved sister, you're pretty violent toward me today.”

I guess I was immature back then, she concluded, ignoring her brother's jab, as she swallowed a chunk of hot potato. ...No, I was something like three years old, right? These were normal thoughts for someone that age. I think.

She stared at her brother. He's the weird one, not me. He's only one year older, but I've never been able to guess what was going on in his mind.

“You're staring again,” Astrael reproached.

“...Because you're a messy eater,” she improvised.

“I'm not,” he retorted. “You're the one without manners.”

She glanced at her bowl, and the truth reached her eyes. She was indeed the one making a mess out of her meal. “That can't be right,” she said while chewing loudly. “I'm a lady. Clean and proper as it gets.”

They all laughed, and then she got scolded.

Rina spent the remainder of the morning walking aimlessly in her room, not daring to go outside and meet the happy villagers who would be overjoyed to bid her farewell and congratulate her. Some would even point out how lucky she was, and how this was the happiest day of her life and so on, as if they knew anything. Astrael stayed for a bit, helped their parents to prepare their luggage – which was light, since aside from food, Rina would only bring a few clothes, and Astrael a couple of books. Once they were all set, he went out to see Horace before the envoy arrived.

The wait was killing her. Today was the day, right? What if they were late? What if they got the wrong day?

Before she knew it, noon came. And, as if to put and end to her endless worry, it seemed there was a commotion in the village. She didn't need to think about it, she already knew what it was. It's not like I've been dreading this day for, say, four years. Heh...

She was starting to panic. It couldn't be called nervousness at this stage. She was on the verge of tears. Right now, she wanted it all to go away. She didn't want to leave. She didn't care about the gods, about Callir, about anything. She just wanted to lie on her bed, sleep, and hope that everything would go well.

She heard the hoofs of the horses trampling the ground. People were chatting outside, it made for an annoying buzzing noise. She did not know how many mounts were here – five perhaps, or even ten, she had no idea. Someone yelling, making an announcement. The wheels of a carriage coming to a stop. She closed her eyes, two people had gotten out of the carriage, she believed. Though they were more than two. As the riders dismounted, she could hear the clinking of their armour. Plate! she almost heard Astrael bellow in her mind. Well, there was no one else here, but she was sure he was watching the newcomers with shiny eyes and an excited grin on his face.

That's right. What am I doing, cowering in there while he's probably greeting them already?

Rina opened her eyes, got her act together and stepped out of the house.

The sun blinded her for a second, and then she saw them. Surrounded by the curious villagers, two people in dark red robes, whom she assumed to be priests. One old man, and a young woman. A dozen knights clad in shining steel, and as many horses next to them. Finally, the carriage looked like a giant box made from dark wood, and two more horses were drawing it.

And here he was. Astrael, with their parents, already chatting with the priests. It seemed they were explaining why they would have to go back to Callir with two kids instead of one.

“Yes, yes,” the older man spoke in a calm voice, “we were warned, worry not.”

“I see,” their mother said in a flustered tone. “Forgive us, your excellency, we were just making sure.”

The old priest chuckled softly. “There is no harm.” He paused and he seemed to have spotted Rina as she moved through the crowd. “And, I presume, that would be young mistress Rina?”

He... h-he said young mistress! Rina could feel the flush heating her cheeks. It got even worse when she spotted Rickael smiling at her. She'd definitely avoid Astrael's eyes.

Her father patted her on the back and pushed her toward the priest. Now that she was close, she could see his wrinkled smiling face, and his greyish hair that echoed with the silver decorations on his red robes. “Come then, Rina. No need to be shy. This is his excellency Phiramel, high-priest of Xito.”

She had every reason to be shy, though. She was the centre of attention of the entire village, not mentioning the bunch of knights that she could feel staring at her despite having their faces hidden behind close helms. They gave off a menacing vibe, with their swords dangling at their waist, and their pikes and halberds hammered into the ground, and more importantly, the thin, dark slit on their helmets, that made them look like they weren't human.

Though what caught her attention the most was the crest painted on their armour's breastplate. A dark red droplet running along a thorn. Similarly, other parts of the armour, such as the greases, knuckles, and pauldron, were decorated with steel castings of bramble branches. It looked ominous yet elegant at the same time.

“Young mistress,” the priestess called out. “If you may?” She pointed to Rina's hand. She wordlessly held out her hand, displaying her mark for all to see. The priestess and her older colleague observed the mark for a bit, and nodded to each other.

“One last trial, young mistress.” It was Phiramel who spoke this time. “Nothing bothersome, but it may hurt a bit. Is that fine with you?” Rina simply nodded, she wouldn't have dared to refuse even if she had not been fine with it. The old priest took out a glimmering dagger, embedded with red jewels on the pummel and displaying engravings that she couldn't comprehend on the blade. He smiled at her and slightly poked Rina's finger with the end of the dagger. She barely felt a pinch.

The man and the woman spent the next minute staring wordlessly at the wound and at the drop of blood on the dagger. The silence was oppressing, and the villagers' stares were perhaps even more disturbing than the mad, widened eyes of Phiramel, who looked like he was trying to see through Rina's hand. Then she, too, began to stare at the blood. And then it happened – a flash, perhaps a hallucination, but it was as if the red droplet flew back into her finger.

She gasped and frowned, but before she could ask or even think about what she had just seen, Phiramel and the priestess both sighed in relief. Whatever it was, it looked like Rina had passed the test, and suddenly she had lost the courage to inquire if others had witnessed the same thing.

I'm probably tired, she concluded half-heartedly. They'll look at me like I'm a crazy if I start to ask stupid things...

“Well then,” the priest said while he wiped the dagger clean and wound clothes around it before putting it back somewhere under his robes, “let us not linger here. I know this is sudden, but we should return to Callir as soon as we can.”

Before Rina could suck the wound on her finger, the priestess kneeled to bandage it. The woman then addressed the parents. “We'll give you some time together, and then we'll be on our way.”