Sreketh and Aurier had positively opposite reactions as we headed out to the meeting with the other cults. The young half-Scalekin girl was more or less bouncing on her feet, so eager to run off towards the temple of the Fire Cult that I almost had to hold her back. Meanwhile, every step from Aurier was weighed down with hesitation.

“My first big cult meeting!” Sreketh said, flashing me a toothy grin. “Thanks so much for inviting me along, Ross!”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Thought it was high time you guys came along.”

I got to see her Aspect at work next. Sreketh was so excited, she painted herself a small deer on the dirt path we called a road here on Ring Four. It was really simple. She pulled out a small jar of paint from her trouser pocket, dipped a finger, then created a public work of art. Sreketh had gotten a lot better at painting in just the week she had been practicing.

Rainbow mana swirled around her hand as she drew, then sank into the completed but wet painting before rising back up. Then she was even more sprightly than before.

She caught back up with the rest of us pretty quickly once that was done.

“Oh, that brought me to Iron III on my Aspect,” Sreketh said brightly. “I was really hoping I could hit higher after a week, but it’s taking effort.”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, they tend to do that.” I turned to Aurier. “How’s your progress coming along?”

“Oh, um…” He looked a little embarrassed at being the centre of attention, but credit to him, he got over it quickly. “Still working on the mace. I want to make it special.”

My eyebrows went up. “A mace, huh?”

Now that made Aurier properly flush. “Yes. You lost one when you were… fighting that guy, right? I thought I’d make a new one. A new, really good one.”

I smiled warmly at my friend. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

There had been a slight hesitation when Aurier had brought up my battle against Glonek. Even Sreketh had grown a little glum at the reminder, her steps losing their exuberance. It wasn’t just because that was the incident that had killed Elder Escinca.

They were also struggling with a decent amount of guilt for not having been present during those crucial moments. Not that it was truly their fault. Elder Escinca himself had sent them away after he had seen the danger looming over the temple.

We arrived at the Fire Cult temple before long. I hadn’t been to this part of Ring Four yet. Not that it mattered much since Ring Four was pretty much the same all over. Ramshackle houses that were one good storm from being blown down, streets that were nothing more than tracks of packed earth, dreary residents with drearier expressions.

Hmm, did this lot look a little more downtrodden than the people around the Sun Cult temple, or was I just biased?

The temple itself wasn’t that different from the one we used as headquarters. Blocky stones, broken bell tower, missing walls and windows and balconies here and there. It was all so familiar that it was almost comforting in a way.

Burning fires made the main difference. Torches here, braziers there, none of them smoking or giving off any burning stench.

“Remember the ritual,” I said to the others. “I’d like for us all to do it, please.”

The last time I had been at a cult meeting, there had been a strange ritual that Escinca had followed. He hadn’t bidden me to do it as well, so I had seen no reason to follow suit, especially since I hadn’t exactly had positive thoughts about the Earth Cult. But now that I had the Aspect of Ritual, I acknowledged I had been foolish to at least not ask if there were other benefits.

Still, I could find out myself now.

It was always nice Ritual didn’t involve any elaborate magical circles drawn with blood or anything like that. All we had to do, thanks to the Structure Affix, was follow established steps of traditional rituals and that would be it.

In this case, Aurier, Sreketh, and I all paused at the doorstep leading into the Fire Cult temple. Unlike us, they actually had a functioning door. We held up our hands and muttered a short prayer.

“Please excuse us as we avail ourselves of your premises,” I said, the other two echoing me. “While basking in your fiery radiance, Uqi.”

Then we entered. Aurier had informed me the name of the fire god, which was honestly a little embarrassing. I had been a cultist for a while now and my knowledge of the gods besides the sun god was limited at best. Heck, the amount I knew about the sun god, Arl, was probably shameful when compared to the treasure trove of knowledge Escinca no doubt had held.

No worries. The gods were banished. It wasn’t like they could smite me with a thunderbolt or something.

“Greetings,” I said formally to the Wind Cult.

“Greetings,” Aurier echoed to the Fire Cult.

Sreketh followed our lead, bowing a little at the Earth Cult. “Greetings.”

“Are you… trying to follow the Ritual of Commonality?” the Fire Cult leader asked.

I smiled, despite not being able to see my fellow leader’s expression under that low-hanging cowl. “We are!”

“You’re late,” said Problem-girl from the Earth Cult. I really ought to ask what her name was, but honestly, just referring to her as Problem-girl was vindictively satisfying.

“No we’re not,” I said. “The Sea Cultists aren’t here either.”

“That makes two of you late!”

“What makes two of whom late?”

Speak of the devil. The Sea Cult arrived, their leader in robes with foam-designs at the hem. His salt-and-pepper hair looked freshly cut, which reminded me that it had been a while since I had gotten a haircut.

“You!” Problem-girl said. “You’re the one—”

“Ahem.”

She thankfully quieted down after her dear leader, Kanis, cleared her throat. Hmm, Kanis. I was immediately reminded of the Anymphea woman, Kyris. Were the names just randomly similar, or was there something deeper to it? The Anymphea had acted like they weren’t unfamiliar with Zairgon, which meant one or more of their members had been here before.

With the Sea Cult now here—and after the leader nodded a greeting at me—the meeting proceeded with the typical updates about what each of our cults were up to. There was an undercurrent of each cult trying to one up the one who went before and I certainly didn’t hold back when our turn came up.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“We’ve added…” I turned to Aurier. “What was it now?”

“Fifteen new members in the last week,” Aurier said, trying to hide his little smile of pride.

“Fifteen?” Problem-girl asked with clear disbelief. “In one week?”

“Fifteen…” Durica, the old leader of the Wind Cult muttered as he shook his head.

There were suitable sounds of awe and wonder from all around. While unprecedented, it wasn’t unthinkable.

People had seen the central stage that the Cult of the Sun had taken against the Scarthralls. People had paid attention to the fact that I had nipped the problem at the bud, taking out not only the Scarseeker directly creating all the Thralls, but also taking to court the House that had allowed him to rise.

The other cults didn’t have as impressive a record to display as we did.

There was the Fire Cult who had apparently secured a new fuel source for people to keep warm during cold nights and in winter, and then the Wind Cult were apparently assisting the local hospital with a new method of dispersing medicine.

Honestly, some of those sounded interesting on the face of things, but most weren’t exactly practically applicable.

It was the Earth Cult who had the biggest announcement.

“We will be constructing our own Ration House,” Kanis announced to a somewhat shocked silence. “That way, we will not need to depend on a communal Ration House directed by one cult.”

The last bit had come with a soft glare in my direction. We were supposed to set up Ring Four’s first ever Ration House with the cooperation of all the cults using the funds that the Council had allocated from House Kalnislaw’s huge fine. It had been planned as a big undertaking where we would all try to contribute our utmost and keep things fair.

And now the Earth Cult was announcing they were going to blow it all away because they had funds for their own Ration House.

“Thanks to your noble benefactors, I presume,” the Sea Cult said.

“Why do you bring it up?” Kanis asked testily. “It feels as though you disapprove of helping the residents who look up to us for guidance.”

“The only thing we disapprove,” said the leader of the Fire Cult. “Is how you might be tied up in Ring Two politics by using Ring Two money. There is no point in enriching ourselves with one hand if we are selling off our freedom with the other.”

The cultist’s scathing tone was familiar. I remembered the last meeting where the Fire Cult had simply walked out in disgust after the Earth Cult had revealed their intention to receive financial assistance from House Drihawk.

I didn’t approve of it either. It was a terrible plan, mostly because I was pretty certain the Great House didn’t have any good intentions.

But there was no solid proof we could muster against the idea.

All I knew was that the Houses’ interest in Ring Four had cooled when the Scarthralls had been causing chaos. Now that they were dealt with, the nobles were back.

“We have discussed the issue,” Kanis said. “And we will continue to assist the original Ration House idea that was proposed. But we will be creating our own one for our neighbourhood, regardless.”

More grumbles followed from that, and though it was clearly a sore point no one besides the Earth Cult really liked, there was nothing truly objectionable about it either. We were all free to do as we wished.

At least it gave me an opening to discuss logistics about the original Ration House. The thing about Earth Cult doing their own meant they would need to handle all its matters on their own too. Good luck to them with that.

As for us, I could once again delegate certain matters to others to lessen the burden the Sun Cult alone had to bear. Oh, what a lovely day.

We discussed who would handle what parts of the construction and establishment. While the Sun Cult would deal with the procurement of food, which would be the bigger cost once it was running for a few years, the other cults would deal with things like procuring the construction material, handling the recruitment of people who could run the place, and so on.

“The next thing,” I said after the Ration House business was dealt with. “Is the issue of the Scarthralls.”

The other cultists tensed. Turned out the Scarthralls were an even worse topic than the Earth Cult resorting to using Great House funding.

“So…” I looked around the room. “No one is willing to take up any of the returning Scarthralls?”

I hadn’t received an answer to the same question earlier, so now I had turned it into a more rhetorical version. And once again, it was pretty clear the Sun Cult was on its own in the matter.

“The Thralls are from your area mostly, yes?” the Sea Cult leader said. “Does it not behove you to take care of most of them?”

“It does, of course,” I said. “The Scarthralls disproportionately affected the areas around the Sun Cult because the Sun Cult was the only one who posed a real danger to them.” I looked at each of the other cults as I spoke. “But I was hoping that we could obtain some assistance in dealing with them, especially since we were the ones who took care of the root of the problem.”

That wasn’t the most diplomatic way to put it. There was an immediate outcry from the Earth Cult about the Sun Cult trying to manipulate things in their favour, and I could sense all the Fire Cultists’ disapproval from within their low cowls.

Thankfully, the Wind Cult’s response was more measured.

“We at the Wind Cult will try to provide what assistance we can,” Durica, the old leader, said. “But ultimately, it is the Sun Cult who are best positioned to make sure the returning innocent Scarthralls do not become a problem.”

All because, unlike the other cults, our Paths allowed people to manifest the Aspect of Light. Or, in my case, the Aspect of Illumination. Aspects that were fatal to anyone even slightly vampiric. Well, maybe not as fatal to half-Scarseekers like Hamsik, but I was pretty sure he didn’t like it either.

Since the rest of the cults were of the same opinion, more or less, and I wasn’t going to be able to make them budge, we moved on to other topics. Though there wasn’t much to discuss beyond that.

But before we concluded the meeting, I reported one last thing I had picked up on Ring One.

“There’s a possibility we’re going to face a Blight Swarm,” I said. “Not sure when, but something to keep in mind, I suppose.”

I wasn’t even sure what a Blight Swarm was as I hadn’t looked it up just yet, busy with all the other things. Maybe I should have, considering the surprise I had seen on the Se-Targa Councillor’s face. Even Wargrog had sounded alarmed.

The same happened here, though only on Durica’s and Kanis’s faces. Everyone else didn’t seem to register it as anything important.

“What is the significance of this Blight Swarm?” the Sea Cult leader asked.

Ah, so most of them were ignorant like me. That made me feel a smidge better. But the two oldest cultists’ expressions drove home the fact that I needed to learn about what it was.

Credit to them, though, they quickly schooled their faces into something a little less worrying.

“That’s certainly some news, Cultist Moreland,” Durica said. “Where did you hear it?”

“When I was attending a meeting with the Councillors,” I said. They couldn’t doubt me now.

“Again,” the Sea Cult leader said. “What is—”

“We can discuss it later,” Kanis said shortly. Her eyes had flickered around to take in everyone present, and I understood that she didn’t want to cause any panic. “It’s just bugs. If it was a real threat, the Council would be sending official notices to the entire city.”

Her tone was pointedly dismissive. I supposed I could appreciate her intention not to cause any alarm among anyone. It just made me even more determined to figure out what was up with this Blight Swarm. Bugs…

The meeting ended after that, though not before I reminded the others to finish the ritual along with me.

“Farewell,” we intoned together as the other cults were leaving. I turned to the Fire Cult, who obviously weren’t going to leave their own temple. “And thank you for hosting us under your fiery auspices.”

That completed the ritual, which was acknowledged by the Weave.

[ Ritual

You have performed 1 [Moderate] Ritual of Commonality. Windfall bonus activated.

Reward: Rank gain hastened by 3x for 1 Attribute until next rank for Fervour ]

Not bad. I remembered getting a similar reward from Sacrifice for an assignable Attribute. In this case, it was limited to just Fervour, which made sense.

“I got a rank gain boost,” Aurier said. He had the Aspect of Ritual too. “For Fervour. One and a half times.”

“Is that good?” Sreketh asked.

“I got three times,” I said. Some of the cultists who hadn’t left were looking at us oddly, but I ignored them. “Guess that’s the difference between having Windfall Affix. It’s not bad, but I think it could be better.”

“How?”

I smiled. “Why, with Sacrifice, of course.”

It had been something I had been thinking about for a little while. Typically, I couldn’t Sacrifice the rewards I got from Sacrifice, which made sense, since I couldn’t Sacrifice any other rewards from the Weave like Attribute or Aspect rank-ups or anything like that.

It especially made sense when I understood that what the Weave stated via its boxes were less rewards, and more notifications about things I myself had achieved.

The Weave wasn’t rewarding me for hard work. It was just telling me about the result of my labour.

But that had started making me think about it in a different way. If all my rank ups were my own accomplishments, if everything I gained were things I was going to attain through my own experiences, then did those experiences—or at least, the effort I outputted via those experiences—count as a tribute under the definition of Experientiality?

I figured I was really stretching it there, but hey, it couldn’t hurt to try.

So, I focused on my Sacrifice Aspect, on its Experientiality Affix, and offered up everything I had done to earn my Ritual reward as tribute.