Invoking the rage of Imarsi is dangerous.

In situations of dire need, children of the mountains have done so on the spur of the moment. Often times, their wish has been granted. Sometimes, the offended divinity punished them in some way.

Meriem followed all prescribed rites. All in white clad, surrounded with silver receptables and bowls of the purest crystal, she poured the cleanest snow water that could be into a pool of diamonds and sapphires. The blue and white reflections were dazzling.

Her imploration, a song filled with longing, filled the room.

The old man felt some shame at himself. He knew he'd overstepped his bounds, and more than the political cost of his excessive reaction, it was the religious mistep that bothered him. He'd acted recklessly. He shuddered. He realized that he'd acted just like the Knight had. He buried the idea deep in his mind and focused on the ritual. Meriem was almost done, now.