Cult

Dionisus and his father, Griz, were in the small kitchen of their wooden hut, preparing a meal from the Frostfang's meat. Dionisus had already skinned and cleaned the animal, and now he was cutting the meat into small pieces while Griz heated up the stove.

As they worked, Dionisus noticed something strange about his father. Griz was usually a quiet and sedentary man, preferring to spend his days reading or dozing by the fire with hollow eyes. But today, he was unusually active. He had gone out into the snow to collect berries for their meal, and now he was moving about the kitchen with a new energy, chopping vegetables and humming a tune.

Dionisus watched his father carefully, sensing that something was different. But he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He wondered if Griz had perhaps heard some news from the other villagers, or if he was simply in a good mood.

As they cooked, Dionisus tried to make conversation with his father, but Griz seemed lost in his own thoughts. He answered in monosyllables and kept his gaze fixed on the food. Dionisus felt a pang of sadness at his father's distance, but he knew better than to push the issue. Griz was a private man, and he didn't like to talk about his feelings.

As they sat down to eat, Dionisus couldn't help but wonder what was going on with his father. But he decided to let it go, at least for the time being. He enjoyed the meal and the warmth of the fire, and he felt content to be with his family.

Later that night, as Dionisus lay in bed, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about his father. He wondered if he should ask him about it, or if he should wait and see if Griz revealed anything on his own. But in the end, he drifted off to sleep without an answer, leaving the mystery of his father's strange behavior unsolved.

The next night, Dionisus woke up to the sound of heavy snowfall outside. He got dressed and went to the kitchen, but his father was nowhere to be found. The fire was out, and the house was completly dark.

Dionisus put on his fur coat and went outside to look for his father. The snow was deep, and he struggled to walk through it. He called out Griz's name, but there was no answer. He walked around the village, but there was no sign of his father.

Dionisus started to worry. He knew that his father wasn't the type to wander off in the snow, especially not without telling him where he was going.

As the hours passed, Dionisus grew increasingly worried. Griz had never left without telling him where he was going before. He wondered if something had happened to him, if he had fallen ill or gotten lost in the snow. Dionisus tried to push these thoughts out of his mind, but they kept creeping back in, like tendrils of cold mist.

The other villagers were strange aswell, they all seemed hyper active today which was strange for a village like his which was monotonous and almost dead in sound. He came up to a random villager and asked "Why is everyone so excited?"

"An Observer came by. But not just any Observer, a messenger of our god!" the man said in a fanatical way, saliva dripped from his mouth at just the thought of this 'god'.

Dionisus couldnt help but feel that something was strange, 'who is this god?' he asked himself. His people had no religion, yet, this villager was talking about a messenger from 'their' god.

The villager smiled wickedly with drool dripping from his mouth, his body was different than normal, his nose was longer and his skin was darker. Dionisus noticed this and began glancing around at the other villagers, looking for any clue.

The uncanny part about this was that everyone looked like that, even people he once knew were different, like their physiology had begun to change.

Dionisus couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that was growing inside him. A cult? In his village? He had heard of such things happening in other places, but never here.

He decided to investigate further. He went around the village, asking people about this so-called messenger and their god. Most of them gave him vague answers, talking about how great their god was and how he would bring them salvation.

But there were a few who seemed hesitant, like they wanted to say something but were afraid to do so. Dionisus could tell that something was not right.

As he walked deeper into the village, he saw a group of people gathered around a makeshift altar, chanting and praying. At the center of the altar stood a man, with cracked stone armor. Through the cracks black feathers could be seen, the man held a sword in his waist.

Dionisus approached the group, trying to blend in and not draw attention to himself. He listened to their chants, trying to make sense of the words.

Suddenly, the man in the armor looked directly at him, and Dionisus felt a shiver run down his spine. The man's eyes were dark and piercing, like they could see through his very soul.

Dionisus knew that he had to get out of there, and fast. But as he turned to leave, he felt a hand grab his shoulder. He spun around to face the Observer, who was now standing right behind him.

"You should not be here, boy," the man said in a voice that sent chills down Dionisus' spine. "You do not belong to our flock."

Dionisus tried to pull away, but the man's grip was surprisingly strong. "Let me go," he said, his voice shaking with fear.

The man smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Oh, we won't let you go that easily," he said. "You have caught our attention, and now you must be initiated into our cult."