The Hall of Valor (2/2)
Every day before Haalfrin goes to bed Haalfrin starts using his Advanced Syl Name on his men. His power's influence is so subtle that the Arkin aren't even aware of what's going on.
What they do know is that they all start having dreams where they meet another version of themselves – a "them" that isn't a bloodthirsty demon. They see this other "them" living a happy life in the Death Realm with the very loved ones they were beginning to forget. They see this other "them" be disgusted with the blood, violence, and wanton hate.
Needless to say, some of the Arkin completely ignore these dreams; killing is too much fun for them. Others, however, start to change; they start to be more like how they were when they were alive – duty-driven soldiers with (mostly) normal hobbies.
As more and more Arkin regain their sanity, Haalfrin doesn't really have to do anything after that; his now sane soldiers start to act judgmental towards the Arkin who still haven't let go of their hatred.
As the sane Arkin begin to outnumber the vengeful ones, societal condemnation starts to weigh against them, and even more Arkin choose to listen to their dreams.
Over the next few centuries, Haalfrin doesn't even have to organize the social gatherings for his men anymore; they do it themselves.
To them, being members of the Threshold isn't just an excuse to kill Ants; it's a matter of pride! They go from irrational butchers to nationalistic fanatics. (Arguably, that's not much better, but at least their violence is on Haalfrin's behest, rather than their own, and at least Haalfrin is a more trustworthy leader than most.)
When hearing the Arkin talk among themselves, Haalfrin hears them talk less and less about how many ants they can kill, and more about how ridding the world of this plague is doing a great deed.
Haalfrin feels a little corny hearing this, but he hears Das starting to call them "Heroes" whenever he walks through the halls to mingle.
"Good morning, Heroes?" "How did our heroes fair this last battle?" Haalfrin would hear Das say things like this, and the sheer cringey feelings he gets from it make him shiver.
When Haalfrin asks about this, Das just responds with, "What? The dead are more simple-minded than the living. When you die, only the wants and needs most dear to you linger in your soul. Mere things like embarrassment don't exist in them anymore, so it's ok to call them things like 'heroes'."
"Ugh. Do you what you want."
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Apparently, Das calling these soldiers, "heroes" all the time seems to be getting to the soldiers' heads. Haalfrin watches as they start calling themselves embarrassing things like "heroes of the past". They start coming up with strange traditions to celebrate their most difficult battles, and they start writing down every last thing that happened during the war.
Even worse is that many of the Arkin start using valuable mana conductive stone (without permission) to build statues of themselves lining the halls, as if their images are things that the future generations are supposed to remember when they're gone.
Heroes ARE remembered, after all.
Well, the Arkin DO understand that they won't be in the mortal realm forever, and they want whoever finds this floating castle to know one day what they've done for them.
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Soon after the Arkin started building statues of themselves, one of the soldiers had the bright idea to set apart the innermost courtyard as a memorial for all the fallen soldiers. As a symbolic mass grave for all the dead here, they make a huge monument and write all their names down there.
Seeing as how the Ants ate their mortal bodies all the way down to the bone, the Arkin really have nothing to bury, so leaving a monument with their names written down is all they can do.
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Within a mere year after Das started filling the dead with these strange ideas, Haalfrin sees a fresh sign painted over the front gate of the imperial palace. The title of the imperial family has been covered and replaced with a sign that reads, "Hall of Valor".
Yes. His subordinates had the gall to name the place without his input.
Still, the name seems oddly right to Haalfrin; it speaks to something in his soul, so he's not that upset.
In a fit of inspiration, Haalfrin pulls out his sword and carves onto the plaque:
"We lived in blood,
We died on steel,
We lived in blood again,
Heroes of the past,
One day, we die at last."
Of course, Haalfrin was thinking of his visions from his soul realm when he wrote this. He knows very well that he and his armies of the dead will one day perish fighting against Drakavar – the enemy of creation.
In a sense, this poem he carved on the front gates is a real prophecy of the fate of anyone who chooses to serve him behind these walls.
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A few hours later, Freyya pops by the front gate, since she heard some of the men prattling on about how their Commander was staring at the front gate for a long time.
She goes up there and she sees the short rhyme Haalfrin had left, and she slaps her forehead. "Ugh! Just because it rhymes, that doesn't mean it's a good poem!"
So, she quietly rips off his plaque and replaces it with her own…
Over the front gate of the outermost wall, Freyya writes in the big letters of her native tongue as well as the Brancotte tongue, "STRANGERS WELCOME."
She then casts an invisibility spell to avoid unwanted conversations with the Arkin as she heads deeper into the fortress.
Freyya then arrives at the door above the main keep, where everyone lives. She writes there, "FRIENDS WELCOME."
She then goes even further inside and finds a memorial tomb that the Arkin had put up earlier for themselves.
There, on the archway leading into the memorial courtyard, she writes, "FOES WELCOME."
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The next day, Haalfrin knocks on Freyya's door in her tower. Once she answers it, her husband immediately asks, "What does your writing mean? For the life of me, I can't make any sense of it."
"Maybe it's because Myra isn't here anymore. If she was, she could tell you what it is. It has to do with Rehkin culture."
"Oh, I can read the Crow Clan's tongue," Haalfrin sighs. "But What is the relevance of 'Strangers welcome', 'friends welcome', and 'foes welcome'? Just explain, please. I know it has some cultural reference to your clan."
So, Freyya explains, "Rehkin are generally very strict about how close you're allowed to get to them."
"In my native clan," she says, "my people had a custom where no stranger was allowed on your property – to trespass on someone's yard without being well-loved by them is GRAVELY impolite. That's why you never have a business meeting near someone's house."
"Your front yard, however, is a place only friends are welcome. Allowing someone past your picket fence is a sign of friendship."
Freyya adds, "The inside of the house is an even more sacred place; only your close family are allowed inside. You might love your friends, but there are some lines they can't cross too."
"Basically," Haalfrin sums up, "strangers aren't allowed on your property, friends are allowed in your yard, and only family is strictly allowed in the house. Got it."
"That is true," Freyya nods. "However, my father taught me a little differently. When I was a little child, before he was pulled off to war, he taught me that we should treat every stranger as if they were our friends. That's why I put 'STRANGERS WELCOME' over the castle's front gate.
She adds thoughtfully, "He also taught me that all your true friends are your brothers and sisters of the heart, so they should be treated with the same love and courtesy as your family. That's why I put 'FRIENDS WELCOME' above the living quarters, showing the love and care we have for our friends."
Haalfrin grins and finished up for her, "I can guess the last one. You put 'FOES WELCOME' above the mass grave as a threat. If I had to rephrase your 3 signs, I'd say, 'Treat strangers as friends, friends as family, and enemies as corpses.'"
Freyya gives a wry smile. "I like the Crow Clan version of that saying more. 'Invite strangers to the yard, friends to the home, and enemies to the grave.'"
Freyya nods, seeing that he understands. "See? This is how one makes a quote or engraving. Mine was elegant and had multiple layers of meaning. Its purpose was to not only make a promise of hospitality to those with good intentions and death to those with bad, but it also makes one think about it while doing so. Now YOUR little poem at front… it was kind of… bad… and embarrassing."
"Oi, that's going too far…"