Cult of Bloodmoon/First Sermon of the Mouth
The First Sermon of the Mouth - A sermon to Visionaries, Seers and Augurs in time of famine
The hierophant walks on the roughly built stage outside the temple. Her gray robe rubs against her legs and hips and the coarse material makes them hitch and hurt. The light of the torches reveals a few hundreds of peasants standing in the darkness of Vakreno Heaps, enveloped by the smell of the marshes pushing upwards towards the sea. Ven sees a marshland of skinny faces and desperate eyes, of famine and protruding bones, of open mouths desperate for any organic matter, be that bread of the flesh of dead comrades. In the front a few known faces, minor nobles and friends yet drowning in the marshlands of famine and despair.
Ven closes her eyes, the air is still and vibrant, and her eyes turned inward see their mouths open in screaming as an endless ocean of baby birds in a giant nest. As a mother, Ven flies through the Folds to gather spiritual nourishment for the ocean of mouths in front of her, and her mouth now opens to their darkness.
"The mouth of prophecy has endless tongues but one giant tooth. Its tongues speak in endless idioms and infiltrate every Fold like snakes in the pits of the desert, have you heard its circumvoluted truths in the feverish nights of the Bloodmoon? Have they entered your snail-like ear-drums in the floating worlds of your dreams? They shine of a saliva that is the matter Folds are made of, absolute knowledge and truth and they move with their hypnotic dance from a Fold to another. Tongues are endless but they are all rooted in the mouth of prophecy, and from the Mouth they convey the voice of prophecy, truths that are constant in every Fold and time. The mouth of prophecy in a cavernous knowledge that hides behind every Fold, infiltrating them with its tongues. Praise this divine invasion! Seek its contagion in your dreams and thoughts! Behind all Folds nothing but one mouth, endlessly reaching out through the gates of Bloodmoon, and yet hiding in darkness. In its cavernous depths a giant tooth lies immobile, a pale light in the warm darkness of truth. This tooth a throne, the throne of the King of all Folds lying immobile in sleep at the center of the Mouth, behind all Folds. When the King of all folds dreams, the tongues take life and move the motion of knowledge, and through all Folds a strange stillness falls like a coat of snow. It is this stillness you have to seek, even through famine and hardship, for its spiritual nourishment is richer than material one. The fruit shall be distributed to you now, so that tonight you may receive the nourishment of truth and dream the dreams of the King of all Folds."
Priests start moving through the crowd distributing small clay jars containing small portions of crimson truth, and Ven enters the darkness of the temple seeking solitude.
