Vigil, Part V

Before midday Mograg convinced himself that continuing to search the island of tallstriders would yield no better result. With a heavy heart he took wing once more, leaving behind him the last hope he held for finding Slyvos.

He passed over the wastelands and ruins. He passed through Terokkar Forest. He flew into Shattrath City. He tarried there long enough to make two purchases, one from the tavern and one from a baker. He stepped through the portal and was carried back to his home world in a single beat of his heart. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the cavern. He walked out, crossed the bridge to the main rise of Thunder Bluff, and made his way toward the teepee in which the bankers were entrusted with valuables. Chesmu, with a pretty smile and no question, retrieved for him his ceremonial clothing as he requested of her.

Mograg and his wolf companion Gunnar walked out from the bankers' teepee and across the Low Rise to the lifts. They rode down to the plains of Mulgore. There Mograg continued the preparations.

He had first seen the ritual as a very young calf and had practiced it more times than he cared to think. He gathered from the earth the plants, their berries, and the clay. He gathered the modest amount of fallen wood he would need. He gathered the dried moss. He found the bark. He gathered the water. He gathered the brush.

When all was gathered Mograg and Gunnar walked together across the plains to Red Rocks. The quillboar were nearby again. The bull was still in his full battle gear. They saw him, dressed in bright red, from a good distance. His Surestrike Goggles let him see them from even further. By the time he and Gunnar were in plain view the quillboar had scattered. He knew he would not need fear their interruption.

Gunnar found a spot for himself nearby in the grass. The bull stripped down from his battle gear and carefully placed it just far enough away so he might continue unhindered. He began the chanting of a mourning song. First, he would light the fire in the old way. He shunned the bundled wood in his pack, as well as the steel and striking-stone. He constructed his fire instead from the small twigs and fallen branches he found on the plains, though few and far between they had been that day. He gathered the wood together, forming the teepee shape. Most of the moss went in as the floor to this teepee of firewood.

His hands were out of practice in lighting the fire in the old way. They moved quickly back and forth as they traveled down the stick between them. The stick drilled through the remaining moss and into the wood below. In a moment of frustration, he recalled with slight bitterness how he had just told the story of how Shu'halo were taught by Wolf to get fire from Wood. He considered briefly asking Gunnar to do this work in his stead. He persevered and eventually coaxed Wood to give to him the spark of fire. The smoke of the moss grew to flame as he pursed his lips and blew his wind onto it. He added the now lit moss to the moss at the bottom of his stacked wood. Soon, the fire was burning under An'she's watch.

He began to chant a prayer-song of purification. He gathered together in a bundle the brush he had collected. One end he lit in the fire. The smell of the burning brush was a bittersweet comfort to him. Still chanting, he performed the purification dance. As he danced, he waved the brush through the air to drive away the evil spirits. They, like the quillboar, would now let him complete the ritual unfettered. When the dance was complete, what remained of the brush was tossed into the fire to purify the path to the ancestors.

Mograg then took up a small motar made of kodo bone. Still chanting, he purified it with some small amount of the water he carried up from Stonebull Lake. With a pestle of the same bone, he began to grind together some of the plants, their berries, and the clay into a bright red paint. He emptied the motar onto the dried bark and began to mix a dark blue paint. When enough of it was made, he put motar and pestle aside. Using the bark as an artist would a palette and his fingers as brushes, he began to paint his body as the spirits moved his hand. An'she dried it quickly to his fur.

A prayer-song for ancestral guidance came next from his lips. He donned his ceremonial loincloth. He fastened the leather belt that held to him his ceremonial axe of kodo bone, sinew, and wood. He pulled on his ankle wraps, his harness, cloak, bracers, and leather gloves. Each piece reminded him of the gravity of the ritual, and why he must perform it to the best of his ability.

He took from his pack the bagels and bourbon he had purchased in Shattrath. He placed them near the burning fire, but not so close the flames would come to harm them. He placed in front of them the purple hat that he recovered at the end of Slyvos' trail. These things he would send to Slyvos, in the land of their ancestors.

Mograg chanted a new prayer-song. This was not to the ancestors, nor a song of mourning, nor for purification or even to the Earthmother. This prayer-song was the song in his spirit, a song he made now for Slyvos. He danced around the fire as he sang. His song was joyous at times, recounting when they walked together. His song was sorrowful at times, lamenting when they did not walk together. His song was both at times, speaking of his friend walking among the spirits of the ancestors and not knowing either the pains or pleasures of mortal life. His song at other times was not of words at all, but of the sounds and uluations that the spirits of the ancestors called forth from him.

As this prayer-song ended, his dance brought him to the fire where what he would send to Slyvos waited for him. The bagels and bourbon that his friend had loved in life were added to the fire. Slyvos' hat was the last to be added. In a moment of morbid humor, Mograg thought to himself as he watched the hat burn how mortified Slyvos would be should he have walked up just as Mograg tossed the hat onto the flame.

Mograg watched by the fire, chanting now more softly. He spoke a prayer-song to the Earthmother, asking she bring peace to all spirits. Mograg watched until the very last ember turned to cold ash. He gathered up that which he had brought with him. An'she would leave the sky soon. It was time he returned to Thunder Bluff.