The water is blessed, said the priests; it is holy. Any evil it touches, it will burn away.
But what if it is diluted? asked the acolytes.
The priests smiled.
It can’t be, they said.
***
The first of the holy water splashed across the brow of the baby, wailing and shivering in her mother’s arms, and the droplets ran over newborn skin to fall upon the soil.
They drained into the earth, mingling with the dew; and the dew became holy too.
***
The grass that grew on the soil drank some of the water in, drawing it into cells that were instantly blessed, filled with purity. Later, the sheep grazed upon the grass. The blades were sweet and lush, fat with rain, and as the sheep ate, the blessing in the grass flourished within it, coursing through now-sacred blood.
***
The rest of the water sank lower through the soil, washed down with the rains. Groundwater flowed, consecrated, sweeping below the earth beneath the reach of roots or the eyes of humanity.
There was more water there, and the holiness grew.
***
It can’t be? the acolytes asked. How can it not be diluted?
It converts, said the priests. A drop of holy water in a flask from the lake turns the whole flask holy.
What if a drop reaches the lake? asked the acolytes.
Why would that happen? asked the priests.
***
The butcher slew the sheep, taking the meat for cawl. It bubbled in its pot over the fire, the water from the cells of the mutton leaching out into the rest of the stew until all the family groaned at the sweet scent.
It tastes better today, they said, as they ate heartily. We wonder why?
***
The groundwater reached the river, and the whole vein became holy.
***
The butcher’s son was caught by the vampire the following night, wandering home just a little too late, a little too drunk, a little too alone. I wonder if you could help me? the vampire asked, and the butcher’s son followed where he should not have gone.
The vampire sank hungry fangs into unwilling flesh, and the butcher’s son accepted the end.
But it did not come for him.
***
What can have happened? the vampires asked afterwards. What strange power is held by the butcher’s boy? What did he do?
It was a mystery, baffling and wrong. The vampire had been strong and savvy, a hunter of renown. Now, her veins burned, her body aflame from the inside out.
Sickness, maybe? they said uneasily; but there was no sickness that could take a vampire.
***
The river gave drinking water to all the people of the region, in towns and villages and farmsteads alike. The holiness grew, spreading from land to bodies, young and old, rich and poor, believer and unbeliever, coursing through veins and hearts.
And the river flowed on.
***
Something is wrong, the vampires said.
It was clear now; every vampire in the land was sickening, burning from the inside out as they fed.
No sickness, said the elders, shivering and broken. A corruption. A taint, spreading unchecked like rot. We must leave this land, move elsewhere.
There is something in the water.
***
The river reached the ocean, and the holiness spread from shore to distant shore.
***
We are safe here, the vampires said, collapsing on foreign soil. We cannot touch the ocean; but why should we need to? The humans cannot drink it either. We are safe here.
We are safe.
***
The sun shone over the waves.
Water rose on the warmth, evaporating to the sky. It greeted the clouds, and the holiness blossomed through them.
***
When the rains fell, the vampires screamed; for they knew the end was coming. Every raindrop burned, every splash agony, and they wept and watched in horror as the rains filled the wells, filled the soils, filled the lakes and rivers and valleys and moors, the corruption seizing the new land in its iron grip.
This is the end, they whispered, crumbling to dust. This is the end.
This is the end.
***
The water is blessed, said the priests; it is holy. Any evil it touches, it will burn away.
But what if it is diluted? asked the acolytes.
The priests smiled.
It can’t be, they said.
I swear I saw a tumblr post on here that said ‘horses have over 4,000 bones’ and i don’t know where it came from because its totally wrong, they have 205, but what kind of fucked up horse has this person seen out there because I’m absolutely terrified of it
Now, I’m not saying romantic relationships are inferior, or that they’re useless, or that you being in one or that you shipping some characters romantically is Bad or something off the walls like that. What I’m saying is that two people (or characters, since we’re talking shipping here) can be just as devoted to each other, love each other just as deeply, mean just as much to each other while being in a platonic relationship. The end point of caring about someone doesn’t have to be romance.
Friendship isn’t a stepping stone between strangers and romantic partners, it’s a different path. And you can follow that path as deep into the wood as a romantic one if you want, and neither is inferior to the other, they just have different views.
Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.
If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.
A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.
There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.
There is no plan.
Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.
Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.
We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.
This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.
We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.
People are dying.
People are dying.
People are dying and there is no plan.
More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.
My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.
Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.
But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.
She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.
So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.
If you can, donate.
Or spread the word.
Help. Please.
do it.
*slides in* *whispers* Keanu Reeves as a water silo... *skitters away*
I love these neat little mushrooms...
I believe you
Wasn’t tagged but thought it’d be fun!
Tagging anyone else!
I thought this was really fun so I brought it to my blog!
Tagging: @imadetheline @not-important-genz-child @simshay @whats-up-my-dudes and anyone who wants to! :)
sometimes i think about narnia and i vibrate out of my skin like...
you walk into a world you cannot understand, frozen and dying, and it is you who thaws it. you who kills the witch, you who breaks the stone table, you who slays the wolf. it is you who is crowned and it is you who wails for two worlds when the wardrobe doors shut behind you.
your skin never sits quite right and your teeth are too dull. there are wars in your bones and decades in your eyes before you can reach the telephone on the wall.
you are king. you are queen. they won't let you read the newspapers at breakfast.
it calls you back from beyond a train and from within paint. begs with bloody palms and salt-crusted cheeks. takes from you all that you can give - and sends you back.
you watch your sister fade.
you are a child twice and an adult once. and when you stand in your home again, with crushed bones and the smell of coal still in your nose, you watch them sneer at your sister.
your sister is the sun above you. she is, beautiful and stone-cast, alive in a world you could never stomach. she smiles, still, and stretches her skin over human bones.
she is no longer a friend of narnia. do you tell them it is her who has to bury you all and the stars that are falling from the skies in shards?
Im definitely the Bull Terrier
Tag urself I’m pug
She/her, aroace ♠️, lover of all things animals, nature, wild, fantasy, cryptid and adventure, or books.
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