MERCURIAL ( paul atreides.. )

019. Sacrificial Rites and Other Worships..

( THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT. )
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'Semantics I' offers Altar is a surface utilized as the dais for a doctrinal ritual, especially involving sacrifices to a deity. (See 'Sacrifice', 'Deity'). Both necessary completions to understanding this definition belong to 'Semantics II': Sacrifice is contoured as an act of slaughtering an animal or person, or surrendering a valuable possession as an offering to a deity for various reasons such as, but not restricted to, veneration, invocation, enhancement and adjuring. The definition for 'Deity' has been censored out completely at an unregistered point since the approval of the Domes of Linguistics. 

However, to reinforce the significance of an altar and the rituals of eclectic importance happening in relation to it, 'sacrifice' gains a note-worthy disambiguation in 'Pragmatics III': In some religious texts, the act of sacrifice belongs to the divinity worshipped. In this sense, the sacrifice becomes a testament, an attestation to the God's superiority. The widespread belief in the resurrection act's testimony to the demiurge's power questions a hidden and supposed union between unrelated cultures around the Known Universe. An example of a sacrificial ritual still practiced for the demonstration of ascendancy to a faith is the Water of Life Ritual. 

"Tell him the truth," Mercury demanded. The council had been summoned and Ghamatt, given a seat at the other end of their table, rightful to a Naib, was the victim of the harshness of her glare. As generously bright as her smiles could get, her sullen expression had just earned themselves the reputation of frightening leaders, bowing heads and, similar to the way the past stirs itself in the cracks of misdeeds, so did her judgment cause the guilty to cower, to shiver and to wish to repent.

"The truth?" Paul held her hand a little tighter.

Under her stare, Ghamatt's influence had turned into a puddle, doomed to be devoured by desert's draught. 

The table was silent too. Ranari was revolted in silence that another Sietch's Naib -one they have scorned at for far too long despite his teachings having been correct in the very end- had to come remind them that the gift of the three dead sandworms could not be wasted so carelessly, especially not as it was written in their stone scripture that it had to be used. Their oldest songs, the one she could not remember the melody of anymore, spoke of dry rhymes, riddles between notes: All that is flesh and soul, with blood they will be whole; all that is meat and ghost, with death they'll be the most.

Stilgar was carefully watching the interlocked perfection of Mahdi and Yurshad's hands, twitching ever so lightly from how they held onto each other. Fascination was understatement, because while most remembered the grandeur promised in their prophecy, he had seen kindness that no wall or writing could have ever given away. 

Mara was on the edge too, hand under the table and on the handle of her knife, ready to draw it and feed it blood if Yurshad were to glare any stronger at this fanatic they've bestowed the blessing of an invitation to their table; deep down, she feared she'd have to be just as cautious with all future allies they'll need to convince to unite with them, though Ghamatt did not seek confirmation or rewards to join. He only demanded to be granted the freedom to nudge them into the right direction. 

Ashosi, next to her, was petrified, seeing for the first time how merciless the eyes of their prophets could be when cutting glares. 

Halleck had grown paler. He was a sheet of paper, waiting to be written but instead brushed under the carpet of a forgetful house with a long gone owner. He was the faint ghost, the insane apparition, the old haunting of a Caladan lullaby scaring children from entering the fog. He was the fog, the hopelessness of getting lost.