Rogus Timorum

The flames will take it all away, that pain, that hurt... that embarrassment.

— Pyrelighter

Rogus Timorum, also known as the Pyre of Fears, is an old-fashioned rite currently only practiced throughout the northern reaches of the Medimian Empire. It is a festival of dread and fear, culminating in a blazing inferno that is oft poorly controlled, and yet those that still practice this most ancient infernal rite delight in its occurrence. It offers participants a chance to consign representations of fear to the flame in order to overcome them, and in turn, grants them great strength and fortitude.
The Pyre of Fears, unlike many celebrations, has no set schedule. It is instead held whenever there is at least one life ready to give to the flames. Originally, these lives were referred to as Gifts to the Flame, but the terminology has fallen out of favour over the years to instead be replaced with the more simple Sacrifice. In general, these sacrifices are guilty folk who have committed grevious crimes against the Empire. Most frequently, this crime is treason.
The festival itself is thrown in honour of the great archdevil Moloch, who glories in each burning sacrifice. It is said that all who make offerings to the flame, be they human or not, will be gifted strength and focus by the archdevil in their infernal pact. Whether this is actually true is not certain; as typical with the Medimian Empire, those who would usually ascertain the truth of such matters have instead largely ended up in the Pyre themselves under accusations of blasphemy.

History

It began in fire and blood, and in that, it would always remain.

— historian

Rogus Timorum was one of the earliest traditions to manifest in the Medimian Empire, first taking shape in the 1600s, only a few centuries after the Empire's founding. It began with the capture of an avenging angel, sent forth from Heaven to offer help and guidance to the early Medimian nation in hopes of guiding them away from the control of Hell. The angel had been captured and bound, and Medimia's nobility were mocking in how they determined the beautiful being's fate.

The noble being was dragged through the city, its broken wings shredded by the stone of the streets, and it was bound to a post with unbreakable chains in front of the Red Cathedral.
Here, under the horrified watch of the goddesses that had once blessed the Cathedral prior to its corruption, was to be the angel's unmarked grave, their name consigned to the flame alongside them. Here, the executioners paused.
It was not enough to watch Heaven's arrogance burn. They turned to the watching citizenry, and offered an opportunity.
Should they sacrifice their fears to the flame, the angel would be forced to bear the burden for them. Should they know of blasphemers and traitors, then the pyre would have room for more. To give their weaknesses to fire would be to gain power. The crowd swelled with activity, and as the fire was lit, the Cathedral's clerics stood by to ensure the angel would bear witness to every moment of mortal fanaticism.

Angel's Pyre by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

When they were finally allowed to be consumed by flame, their death-scream shook the city's very foundations - and the claws of Moloch reached through the black smoke to claim the soul before it could dissipate.
Afterwards, the pyre became more standard practice. Its name, Rogus Timorum, was drawn from the language that Medimia's forebears had used - a language influenced strongly by the likes of Hell. The rite was heavily used across many corners of Medimia for just over a millennia before the Empress of the time called its practice to a halt, citing the danger of being unaware of one's own weaknesses and the recklessness of taking such approaches.

Angelic Devotion by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

She instituted more reasonable policies of execution and enabled a greater military presence for the nation through aggressive recruitment, driving the commonfolk to the military instead of to the clergy's dark rituals, allowing their infernal corruption to be more brutally useful.
The rite never truly died out, and lived on in the coldest areas of the Empire where the flames were of great use for morale in the coldest times.
Aware of the utilitarian use of death in these distant realms, the Empress constructed prison camps in those reaches and allowed greater access to lives that had outrun their usefulness to the state for their criminal behaviour.
Though many of these camps have been drastically changed in the modern day, and life is somewhat less freely expendable, the rite does still continue in the northernmost reaches to this day - four thousand years after it began.

Execution

Criminal of the vilest sort, I bid thee carry our burdens. Bear our fears. Wear the knowledge that eats away at us. Carry these chains into your eternal damnation so that we might be stronger for your betrayals!

— fanatic

The rite is an easy one, and it owes this to its lingering popularity. One criminal, bound for their crimes, is set alight on the pyre that shall be their grave - burnt at the stake for their crimes. Around the pyre, the citizenry gathers.

Those that wish to join the rite make offerings unto the flame, typically representing their weaknesses (or in some cases, desires). This is often done through written letters or inscribed wood, to aid the burning, but sometimes more literal interpretations of weaknesses are used.
For instance, one scared of snakes might offer snakeskin or even a live snake into the fire. Effigies, too, are common.
There are no grand processions these days. When the ritual was originally held, this was not the case: criminals would be marched to their pyres in processions, and the pyres would be immense in their scale. In these times, the clergy would spend time in the days prior to a scheduled Pyre raising awareness of it and drumming fear into the hearts of their convocations so that they would take part in the dark rite.
As time passed and the rite fell into disuse after that Empress's changes, the procession dwindled until it disappeared entirely - nowadays, the festivities begin when the fire is lit.

Offerings of Fire by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

When the fire has entirely died down and the merriment around it has ended - for the townsfolk gather in great numbers to share drinks and cheer to their benefit - the ashes are gathered and presented to a member of the clergy. This person, often the same person as the Pyrelighter, takes the ashes away to be disposed of. No person consigned to flame is permitted to have a grave, or to even have their name memorialised.

Pyre of Fears by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

First Practiced

1600s

Related Organizations

• Medimian Empire

O Moloch, take from me the fear of being known as this name! Grant me the strength to be myself!

— very misguided soul

Cultural Impact

The horrific normalisation of brutal murder and indeed the commodification of death seen within the Pyre of Fears serves as a perfect example of the infernal indoctrination that the Medimian Empire has been exposed to for milennia.
Those who reject the ritual as too brutal or who doubt its efficacy are seen as dissenters, and are regularly questioned by guards for their unwanted, dissonant thoughts. The psychological impact of the Pyre and the consequences of not agreeing with it have doubtless contributed to many rebellions against the Empire's reign, all crushed with ruthless efficiency and all practitioners consigned to the flame - or worse.
The Empire offers its inhabitants relative comfort in a supposed utopia so long as their morals and soul are abandoned along the way, and the Pyre stands as a perfect example of this principle in action.

Flames, take from me this letter - and see my broken ankle healed in Moloch's unholy light!

— poor sod

Gifts to the Flame by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

I stand in hope that one day, they will realise that fears, weaknesses, flaws... they are what grants mortals life. One cannot live if one has nothing to drive them forward. In the eyes of Hell, even love is a weakness.

— angelic watcher