The day was warm as Gergori knelt in the soil, the sun was somewhere overhead. The warrior's injuries didn't seem so bad today, he wasn't sure how long had slept after he had over ingested the datura, but Gergori felt much better when he finally woke up. Still, his dream bothered him, it was as though Eguzki spoke to him, Gergori had to know for sure. That's why he came to the deserted spot on the outskirts of the the celebration, with no others around. He sighed and picked his dagger up, holding it with an underhand grip in his right hand. He lifted his left arm and pressed the blade's edge against his wrist. Soon warmth spread across his arm, he heard the droplets of blood fall to the dusty earth.

"May my blood feed your flames, Eguzki." He intoned. "May your light warm me forever." He dropped his arm, letting the blood flow freely over his palm and drip from his fingertips. Gergori let the dagger fall to the ground, landing with a thud. He thought back to his dreams, the feelings had been so intense, the landscape so harsh. His thoughts always turned back to the pit that he had ended up throwing himself into. The long fall meant death, this Gergori knew, and yet, in his dream he had believed that there would be life at the end. In the dream he wasn't killing himself, only a part of himself, something undesirable.

He grimaced and rubbed at his forehead with his uncut hand, thinking of the symbols was making his head hurt again. Zeru might have been able to interpret the dream, he was supposed to have the Ear of Eguzki after all. Still, that particular belief had always been one Gergori disagreed with, Zeru was a fool, too kind on his children and his warriors. Gergori had bested him in combat before, and now his mind seemed to be failing. the blind warrior despised him a little bit, how could he be called blessed? Gergori sighed, no, he would have to figure this "vision" out for himself.

Izotz was troubled.

Renna had made him think. Not that he wanted to convert to her religion. He felt Eguzki's presence deep in his soul, warming the core of him with His eternal fire. It was a certitude. It was a truth, despite all the lies around him.

But he couldn't imagine, and didn't want to believe, that His worship the way the Zerui practiced it currently could be right. Stealing victims from the Endikai, or the interlopers? It was wrong; it didn't work the way it ought to. What ought to happen was this: a soul should go willingly to Eguzki. In battle, deaths were clean. But in ritual? Surely, it was better...

But perhaps not. After all, all victims were taken in battle. Every soldier knew that was a potential price. It wasn't as though they were stealing civilians or women. Women... Renna...

Izotz clenched his fists and continuing his meandering walk, not really looking to see where he was going. He wanted away from this thicket of people.

So it was all right to sacrifice warriors. But--was it? When even the Thiasans' concept of war was different? And then--wasn't blood spilt in battle itself enough for Eguzki? Well, why should there be sacrifice at all? No one was totally useless alive. Surely, no Zerui should willingly sacrifice himself. If Hibai had... but he wouldn't. His blood fed Eguzki in any case.

Izotz sighed, frustratedly, then slammed to a halt when he saw the man he had beaten the day before. Now here was someone he would have no qualms sending to meet the Highest!

"You." It came out a growl. He stood over Gergori, his arms crossed over his chest. "I thought you might want to know. Renna is becoming Zerui and becoming my proper wife, and you will be as dirt beneath her feet."

Gergori snorted, he knew Izotz was coming long before he had said anything. The blind warrior remembered the sounds people made as they walk in the same manner as normal people memorized faces. The cocksure steps that approached him could be none other than that bastard who had defeated him earlier.

"Izotz sem'Hibai..." Gergori stated casually. "I hope you haven't come for another fight, it'd be a little unfair now, don't you think?" He stood up form his kneeling position, though blood still flowed lazily down his arm, and turned to face Izotz. The two men were uncomfortably close, tension raging between them like a wild storm. Gergori had mulled over their fight as well, reviewing just why he had lost. Setting aside Izotz' maddened fury during the attack- something Gergori couldn't explain- Izotz was simply a more practical fighter than the blind warrior. Gergori was well versed in nearly every martial art the Baskar had developed over their history, his forms perfect. Flashy high kicks and the like didn't work well in real combat though, and Izotz had far more experience in that department, his strikes were efficient, and they had left Gergori hurting bad.

"So, your whore-wife seeks to be one of us?" He mulled over that thought. "And will she give her soul to Eguzki? Will she watch other Interlopers die in sacrifice, listen to Zeru and his Ear?" Gergori couldn't help but throw some disdain in his voice when he mentioned the last two. Zeru was no more sacred than any idiot in the Tribe. As for the sacrifices, well, why should killing an Interloper be considered a sacrifice? They fell in battle nearly every day, and they meant nothing to the Zerui, it wasn't truly a sacrifice then.