At first it came in slowly and was an itching surprise rather than an annoyance... but then it just never stopped. Worst still, Cadien could hear every prayer intoned in her exact voice.
“Cadien! It’s me again, your favorite Diana. Listen, you should really start thinking about a much more classy wardrobe fitting for a gentleman. I have some ide-”
“Cadien! It’s Diana. I’d bother someone else about this, dear, I really would, but Illyd Dyll doesn’t have so many contacts you see. Anyways, Illyd Dyll has holed himself up away from the rest of his realm and I need a large quantity of bees-”
“Cadien! I found a rabbit today, it looked quite displeased with life and I couldn’t help but think that-”
“Cadien. Illyd is still holed away, so in all due apologies I must INSIST you bring over a good bundle of poison ivy and the means to form some imps-”
“Cadien. I was thinking about that wardrobe again and perhaps you’d like to try dark dyed and itchy wool?”
“I also noticed -- this is Diana, by the by -- that you could really use a... Well quite frankly, dear, you’re hideous and there is no excuse for a god of perfection to be hideous.”
“Speaking of hideous constructions, Cadien. I am privy to the idea that you change me back to my previous and much more acceptable appearance. This has gone on quite long enough, don’t you think?”
The next prayer seemed to just be a racket from Diana’s old band as well as some colorful insults.
Had it been any other being, Cadien could have simply tuned it out or ignored it. But Diana had received a permanent blessing from him, even if she would not call it that. She had a connection to him, and blocking out her messages proved to be considerably more difficult than it would have been otherwise. Not that such an act wasn’t possible, but it was rather tedious to do when he was attempting to hear the prayers of thousands of other mortals and bench-press a boulder at the same time. Not just tedious. It was aggravating.
“Hmm… this cannot stand…” Cadien finally grunted, launching the boulder he was lifting up into the air and out toward the sea. It crashed down into the water with a massive splash. The God of Perfection rose to his feet, dusted himself off, and approached his portal.
One leap across Antiquity later, and he was standing before the portal to Illyd’s realm. With a shake of his head, he stepped through.
The valley was blustery with rain-swollen wind. Dark clouds loomed above, sending down pillars of electricity here and there. In the distance the creek raged with the freshwater, and the copse was cut off from the realm with a dark wall of stormy wind. Further down and near the slopes of one of the mountains that formed the valley was a beaten up mansion that seemed to just be surviving the pounding of the storm.
Cadien took a single step forward and then came to a sudden stop. “Oh dear,” he said quite suddenly. “I appear to have forgotten something.”
And so, the Lord of Perfection spun about and walked right back into Antiquity.
He returned minutes later with a jar of bees fresh from Artifex’s realm. “Right then,” he said, and began his approach to the rather dark and dreary mansion. The stepping stone path was aggravatingly unaligned and lead not to the center of the slanted stairs but to the side of them, making wonder to why they were even there. In fact, most of the exterior seemed mismatched or disproportioned in just the right way to be a huge annoyance to the skeptic eye.
The door, thankfully, had a doorknob. Unfortunately, however, it seemed to have screwed off its mount when Cadien went to turn it -- releasing the latch just enough for the stormy wind to bust it open with a large slam, leaving Cadien alone before the dimly lit maw of the mansion, a jar of bees in one hand and a broken doorknob in the other.
“This house is poorly built,” Cadien remarked, tossing the doorknob aside and stepping inside.
Inside the wind could be heard pushing the supports of the house into creaks and moans.Only now and again was there a source of light, be it from an unfortunate crack in the wall, a nearly finished candle, or from slips between the boarded up windows (that were oddly enough hiding what seemed to be perfectly fine and artiful stained glass from the inside).
The flicker of one of the candles brought Cadien’s attention to a glimmer that seemed to catch the light. The flames danced in Diana’s eyes as she stood in the shadow of the god. Slowly her cheshire grin stretched across her face, catching more of the light on her pearlesque teeth.
“Did you bring it?”
“Bring what?” Cadien asked innocently.
“Oh Cadien, you cannot lead me to believe that you are that ignorant,” Diana’s smile seemed to grow as she laid eyes on the jar.
“Ah,” mock understanding seemed to dawn on Cadien’s face. “Right. The poison ivy. I’m afraid I did not.”
“The bees, dear, the bees.” Diana corrected and held out her hands.
Cadien shook his head. “I have not brought you any bees, I am sorry to say.”
Diana narrowed her eyes, seeming to sulk in the shadows, “I think it might be best if you just leave.”
“Hm. That’s rather disappointing. I thought you invited me here to discuss my wardrobe?”
She crossed her arms, “I invited you over in hopes of good company, but here you snuck over with the desire to simply disrupt and disappoint.” She paused, “How do I know if you’d even care for my advice if this is how you deign to treat me? You shouldn’t promise a lady just for your own sick gain, dear Cadien.”
Cadien shrugged. “I have made no promises. Anyhow, there was another matter you wished to discuss as well, was there? Something about… hm… what was it again?”
“Don’t pretend that you actually want to talk to me,” Diana said a little quieter than normal, “It isn’t exactly the most flattering look for you, Cadien.” She cleared her throat, “I wager you’re simply here to find a way to silence myself, no?”
“Perhaps I simply came to admire your newfound beauty?” Cadien asked. “But yes, if you could perhaps reduce the frequency of your messages, that would be ideal. I am a busy man.”
“I doubt it Cadien, I truly do,” Diana’s voice was hard before she waved a hand, “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you again, persecution for trying to make a friend isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”
“And what precisely is a friend to you?” Cadien asked her. “In the brief time I have encountered you-”
“Someone who doesn’t come over just to humiliate myself,” Diana shouted, “You understand I’m trapped here, that I have nothing? You’re the only name I really know, didn’t know I’d be damned for knowing it. Was there anything else, Cadien, or do you need help twisting the dagger?”
Cadien frowned. “In the brief time I have known you,” he continued, “you have insulted me, you have laughed at the misfortune of poor Illyd, you have been so intolerable that he left his own realm, all while having a simply dreadful taste in both music and fashion. So, I ask again. What is a friend to you?”
“I suppose a simple yes to my last question was in order,” Diana flinched. There was a pregnant pause, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am not,” Cadien confessed. “I suppose that must bring you some joy?”
“Don’t pretend to be my friend,” Diana said with a hint of sadness before walking past Cadien and up to a chair that had been hiding in a dusty corner. The lady plopped into it, the uneven legs nearly splaying outwards from the sudden weight.
“I make no such pretension,” said Cadien. “But nonetheless, you said it yourself: I am the only name that you know.”
“I’d rather be alone than subjected to your endless judgement,” Diana said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but there may have been an auxiliary glimmer under one of her eyes. “You can leave now, I guess just take the bees with you.”
“You see this as judgement, when it is in fact an experiment,” Cadien remarked. “So bear with it a while longer, and I will no longer plague your life.”
“I said go!” Diana stood up, her tears free now, “I am not an experiment, you don’t have my consent to be here, and most of all I find your attitude towards this disturbing. I only wonder who else may just be an object to you -- get out!”
Cadien shrugged, and began walking toward the door. “One final question,” he said, stopping at the threshold. [color=violet“What is perfection, to you?”[/color]
“You getting the fuck out of my house!” Diana screamed.
“What in the--” A warm voice like a babbling stream came from the swinging door to the outside. Illyd Dyll stared at the scene in shock, “Cadien buddy, what’s going on here?” He ushered with his hands, motioning a shocked Cadien out of the house.
“An error, on my part, I think,” said Cadien after a moment. He snapped his fingers, and in that moment, the curse he imparted on Diana was undone. He was silent for several long moments, and then looked back at the house. “Forgive me,” he said, though it was unclear who precisely he was saying it to. He turned back to Illyd.
“I sought to learn more about Diana and her nature. In the process, I fear I only made myself seem insufferable,” he sighed, falling into a sitting position on the uneven steps. “I do not understand lesser minds, Illyd.”
Illyd put a hand on Cadien’s back and sat down next to him, “We all make mistakes, good buddy.” The god of Agriculture looked uncomfortable, “But ye... well ye know. Ye didn’t touch her did ye? She is a living being, Cadien.”
Cadien winced, recalling his first interaction with Gibbou. “I did not lay a finger on her, no. Nor would I ever do so,” He said to the god. “Still, I conducted myself in a way that I think any other deity would find… petty, and immature.”
Illyd let out a sigh, “Oh boy.” He paused, “Cadien, ye... ye can’t just do that, good buddy. What if ye.” He thought for a moment, “Well listen here, I’ll give Diana a really nice week, yeah I will, and maybe after some time if she is open to it -- ye can come back and make things right? No need to fret, good buddy, I know this isn’t normally ye.”
“Do not feel compelled to subject yourself to her on my behalf,” Cadien spoke ruefully. “This is solely on my shoulders. I did not intend to make your situation worse than it already was, so I apologize for my shortsightedness.”
“No harm done... to me at least,” Illyd gave a reassuring smile, “But listen, it’s no trouble at all -- but maybe ye should take yer mind off of this for a while.”
“It’s a strange thing,” Cadien mused. “When I first met her she was insufferable, and our meeting ended with her trying to strike me. Then she bombarded me with inane prayers, messages, and insults. I came here expecting further attempts at abuse, yet when we met she was civil, and it was I who was the insufferable one.” He sighed. “She is no divine, Illyd. I cannot regard her as an equal, like some of our other kind might, and I fear I may never understand her. Or those like her.”
“Sounds to me like ye got some things ye need to work on, good buddy,” Illyd rubbed the back of his neck, “But ye know, nobody is perfect.. And I know- I know that’s not what ye want to hear, but ye gotta accept some fault before ye can bring it back up to par, ye know? If ye can’t level with someone who is a fragment of divinity, then imagine how that will affect ye relations with the mortals who’s very lives depend on ye understandin’ ‘em?”
“And what of you?” Cadien asked him. “How have your own attempts to understand her gone?”
“Patiently,” Illyd nodded, “Patiently.”
“Has your patience yielded any results?”
“I’m not really comfortable talking about her behind her back, especially after today, ye know? But I can safely say that as far as my concerns about the other gods finding themselves in this situation I am in, I think as long as they approach it with a level head and don’t give in to the temptations of anger or depression, they should be alright -- assumin’ their fragment is as benign as Diana, here.” Illyd slapped his knees and stood up “All we can do is stay strong for Galbar, yeah?”
Cadien rose to his feet. “Indeed,” he nodded, before sighing. “My apologies again. In addition to stirring up Diana, I have also subjected you to my personal anxieties.”
“Nyah it’s what friends ‘r for,” Illyd smiled and clapped Cadien on the shoulder, “I’d say come by anytime but just give it a bit for the water to simmer down -- but if ye be needin’ me I can always meet ye somewhere else.”
“You would be welcome to visit me in my realm,” Cadien nodded. “If I am not… otherwise occupied, I mean.”
“Look at ye, romancin’ it up,” Illyd chuckled as he led the god to the fissure to Antiquity, “Well good on ye.”
“Do give this to Diana,” Cadien said, holding out the jar of bees. “I had intended to give it to her in the end, but… well, I botched that, as you saw.”
Wrapping his hands around the jar, Illyd raised a brow, “Cadien, ye know we have plenty o’ bees in the valley, ye? Wouldn’t be much of a God of Agriculture without a lotta bees.”
“Tell that to Diana, then,” Cadien shrugged. “Perhaps bring her some poison ivy too.” And on that note he stepped through the portal.
“Aha, you got it, friend,” Illyd gave a concerned look but waved goodbye all the same.
Diana has been bombarding Cadien’s inbox with spam messages. Eventually he has enough and decides to go there personally to engage in some counter-trolling. She asked for a jar of bees and some poison ivy, so he shows up only with a jar of bees, but pretends to have no intention of giving it to her.
Diana gets pissed off and asks him to leave, but Cadien remains in an attempt to learn more about her. She becomes increasingly sad and enraged at his presence, until eventually Illyd shows up and escorts Cadien out.
In the end, his attempts at bothering Diana have only served to make him feel guilty. Cadien apologizes to Illyd for his behaviour, and attempts to explain the situation somewhat, revealing that he doesn’t see anything less than a divine as an equal. Illyd is forgiving, and offers to help Cadien patch things up with Diana, but at the same time also says he has some things to work on.
Cadien does not disagree. They part ways on decent enough terms, with Cadien requesting that Illyd give Diana the jar of bees on his behalf.
After the cart’s contents had been distributed, Carn allowed the group a period of rest. It was sorely needed. They ate rations which had been stowed away in the bandit’s camp, cooked over the still burning fire. Some caught a quick nap. Carn went to a nearby stream to wash away the blood and grime from the day’s ordeals.
At some point Edgar returned. He had not run, he had merely gone to check on the wounded who had been left at the road, then ventured off with a team of volunteers to carry them back.
Of the original twenty who first set out from Evenstar, only eleven still remained. Four of whom were too injured for any sort of fighting. All carried at least one piece of treasure taken from the caravan; though Carn warned them they may be required to return most of it.
Eventually Carn decided it was time to head back, and so the remnants of his warband picked their way to the forest until they found the road again, and they began the long walk back.
The sun was low on the horizon when they returned, much as it had been when Carn first came to the village. This time he had a larger party, but more wounded, and was considerably more successful. They had talked about their plan to deal with the chieftain, and it was decided that a public confrontation would be the best.
As they entered the village, a few passerbys cheered, correctly assuming they had been successful. Others worriedly scanned the group, searching for friends or loved ones who had first set out with Carn. Some were relieved. Others were not. The commotion brought more people out of their homes, whose reactions were much the same. Eventually another crowd had formed around them, and Carn called his band to a halt.
The chieftain was the last to appear, flanked by a pair of guards. He looked upon Carn with barely concealed displeasure. “Well,” he said as the crowd parted for him. “How did it go?”
It was the priest who spoke first. “People of Evenstar,” he addressed the crowd. “The bandit menace has been defeated, due to the valiant efforts of Carn and Aurielle, and despite attempts from our own chieftain to ensure he would fail.”
“It’s true,” the sole surviving guard spoke up. “He gave me orders to kill Carn during the fight.”
The chieftain’s eyes widened, and then he began indignant with rage. “You dare slander me!?” he shouted. “Arrest them!”
The chieftain’s two guards reached for their swords, as did those who were positioned elsewhere in the crowd, but Carn and his party drew their own weapons first. “The first one to step forward will be the first one to die,” Carn declared, pointing his blade directly at Evenstar’s leader.
“No more blood needs to be spilled today,” the priest insisted. “I swear by every god that I speak the truth.”
“As do I,” said the guard.
“And I,” said Carn. “I swear it as the champion of Cadien.”
“More lies and blasphemy?” the chieftain snarled. “You forsook that prophecy this very morning.”
“I didn’t forsake it,” Carn shook his head. “All I said was that I didn’t know if it was true. Now, I do.” He ran his blade across his palm, spilling blood. Then, he held his hand to the crowd, and they watched in surprise as the flesh mended itself. “I bear the blessing of Cadien himself. My appearance will be forever unmarred by wounds or scars. I stand before you as the champion of a god, and I say that the only liar and blasphemer in this village stands before me right now. To take his word over mine or the godly man that stands beside me is heresy.”
Carn’s words were pretty and the instant healing certainly gave him some credence but Auriëlle did not believe the chieftain would just surrender his throne up. She kept her eyes on the guard on his right. Ready to cast her sorcery and kill him in an instant. Gods why was she still here? She was carrying the gold she needed. If she had split up then by now she would have reached the lonethorn in the field by now. By the next dawn she would’ve been far away from here. Instead she stood next to Carn, facing down a village’s chief.
All eyes on the crowd turned to the chieftain, whose front began to crack once he realized most of the villagers were no longer on his side. He took a hesitant step back, only for the guard Aurielle had her eye on to place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time for you to step down.”
The chieftain’s eyes widened with shock that quickly turned to outrage. “I am the leader of this village! My word is law!”
“Not anymore,” the second guard said, seizing him as well.
“You have failed in your duty, chieftain,” the priest said. “To both your people and to the gods. You will never lead again.”
“What is the sentence for such crimes?” Carn asked casually.
“Death,” the priest intoned grimly.
“Hm. That’s troubling. You said no more blood needed to be spilled today, did you not?” He turned to the sorceress. “Aurielle. I don’t suppose you can think of something?”
“I could make sure his death is a bloodless one.” She said as she stepped forward. There was a malevolent grin on her face. The heat she had made in the forest, it stuck with her. Its memory would never leave her. Now she was itching to try it again. “Make it so,” Carn said, stepping aside to allow her past. He addressed the rest of the crowd. “As you’re about to see, I’m not the only one who was touched by a god.” The chieftain stared at Aurielle with fearful eyes, as the guards forced him to his knees.
For a moment she glanced towards Carn. What the hell was he talking about? Not the only one blessed by a god? What game was he playing? It didn’t matter. Not now at least. There were more pressing matters to address.
She stepped up to the chieftain. Behind them, people were moving away. “Your guard tried to kill me first, you know.” She said with a cold but hate-filled voice. “That was a mistake.” Slowly she put his hand on his head, holding it down. Power gathered inside of her. It mixed with hate and the memory of the forest. The dead. The bones. The ash. “Release him!” She ordered the guards, who pulled away their hands just in time. Explosive, invisible heat traveled from her hand over the chieftain. One moment he was struggling, the next his ashes were crumbling to the ground.
The guards backed away in horror, and a few in the crowd screamed. The priest’s eyes widened, and he mouthed a prayer.
“The threats to your village have been defeated,” Carn declared. “Both within, and without. Some of you have lost people today, and for that, you have my condolences. They fought well against the bandits, and I did my best to keep them alive, but ultimately it was he who killed them,” he pointed to the pile of ashes. “He should have offered more aid. He should have led us himself. He did not. Those deaths are on him.”
Those who were grieving seemed to nod, as Carn gave them a new target to redirect their blame toward. “But there are those standing with me who still live. Mourn the dead, but do not forget to celebrate the living. Every man and woman who stands with me now is a hero. Never forget that.”
His words were met with several nods and even a few cheers.
“There is still much to be done. You need a leader. The goods left behind at the bandit camp need to be recovered. The dead must be seen to. That will all be settled tomorrow. For now, we rest and celebrate.”
The tavern was busy that night. Those who had followed Carn into the woods and were fit to celebrate still did so. Some were already in the process of regaling others with the story, exaggerating or making up certain details, for none had been present during the final battle at the bandit’s camp. There were wild tales of Carn surviving an arrow through his head, or Aurielle killing ten men with a single lightning bolt.
Carn came up behind Aurielle, and tapped her on the shoulder. “Can we speak upstairs? In private?” he asked her.
She threw him a coy smile. “Thought you’d never ask.” She got up and downed her watered wine tankard in one go. It felt good to celebrate. Though her troubles hadn’t ended yet. She didn’t appreciate Carn calling her ‘blessed by a god’.
They ascended to the inn’s second floor, and Carn led her to his room. He opened the door for her, and followed her inside. “I never had the chance to ask you,” he said, closing it behind him. “How do you feel about how today turned out?”
She sat down on the bed. It felt…too soft. “What does that matter?” She asked. “We won. The bandits and the chieftain are dead and we got the gold.” Some died, yes but that would’ve happened regardless. She wasn’t entirely heartless though. You wouldn’t see her at any funeral for them but some night she would visit their graves and say a little prayer. That was the plan at least.
Carn sat down next to her. “Today has given me a lot to think about,” he confessed.
The moment he sat down, she got up. “Yeah but I’ve got one thing to think about too.” She said as she took her place on the room’s only chair. She still had that coy smile on her face. “Why did you call me blessed by a god when I’m not? And you know I’m not.” Carn winced. “Sorry about that. I sounded like a preacher, didn’t I?” He shrugged. “If I hadn’t said that, they might have come to a worse conclusion. It’s not every day that people see magic like yours. Especially in a small village like this.”
“That’s fair.” She said with a small shrug. People talked though. Suddenly the villages wouldn’t just hear stories about Carn, blessed hero of Cadien. They’ll talk about the red headed sorceress who is also blessed by some god. That alone would come with some annoying responsibilities if she led it. Remaining faceless would be harder now. She’d have to travel up north again, on the west side of the river. Maybe visit the sunlands. They wouldn’t hear her story there. “For all his faults the chieftain was right about one thing: you’re just a mercenary. You might know how to lead fighters but this is a village we’re talking about. You’ll have to tell them where to farm what and then count the harvest. Can you even write?” She wasn’t accusing him, even if her tone was a bit harsh. She just found herself, to her own surprise, worrying about Carn. He was a fighter not a scribe.
“I know a few words,” Carn shrugged. “Though I’m not sure where you got the idea I want to lead this place. I’ve been avoiding the subject all day. To tell the truth, I don’t much care for it. It’s a dull place, with dull people.”
Auriëlle smiled. “Then come with me.” She said. “We’ll be gone before first light tomorrow. They’ll never know we’ll have left. I’ve read about this beautiful land where the sun’s always warm. There is a temple there filled with painted walls. And big, flying lions that never hurt you. Come with me there. Let’s leave this shithole and go somewhere nobody knows us.” In truth she cared more about Carn being with her than going to the sunlands. He was interesting. Though not so interesting that she would stay in one place for him.
Carn’s eyebrows rose, and his lips curled into a smile. “That’s actually what I was leading up to. With your magic, my swordsmanship, and our dashing good looks, we’d make a good team.” He eyed her and down.
She came closer. “Well, we still got some hours before we have to pack.” She was leaning over him now, letting her hands rest next to him. Her lips almost touched his. “How about we have some well-earned fun?” “Once again, our thoughts match.”
Morning came. While Aurielle readied herself for departure, Carn ventured down into the common room, where Ruvar and Rollo awaited him at a table.
“Carn!” Ruvar greeted him happily. “Well done seeing to those ruffians!”
“Or is it chieftain Carn now?” Rollo asked with a smirk.
Carn shook his head.
“Oh, I see…” Ruvar’s eyebrows rose. “Well then. I’ve got some volunteers to help us recover my belongings. What these thieving villagers haven’t filched, anyway. Some will even help escort us to Ketrefa, if we pay them.”
“That’s good to hear,” Carn nodded, ignoring the fact that it was he who gave the villagers permission to ‘filch’ Ruvar’s goods in the first place. “But I’m afraid I won’t be joining you.”
“Oh?” Ruvar’s face fell. “Why is that?”
Carn shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I never liked Ketrefa. The bastards stole my brother long ago. They may offer good coin, but,” he shrugged, “there’s more to life than that.” He also decided not to mention that he had a few gold rings in his pockets, which were more valuable than whatever Ruvar would have paid him.
Ruvar seemed genuinely saddened by the news. “I see…” he said slowly. “May the gods watch over you, then.”
“Good luck, Carn,” Rollo said, raising a tankard.
Auriëlle didn’t do goodbyes. It kept life easy in the last three years. So when Carn decided not to slip away but just go down and tell everyone they would leave, she was a bit annoyed. It was his choice though. She stayed up, getting everything ready. The ruby amulet she got from was hidden away under her tunic, while the few gold coins and rings she had taken from the cart were safely in a purse. That would keep them going for some time. When enough time had passed she came down from upstairs and headed straight for the front door.
Carn followed her. A few dozen people had already gathered outside, the priest among them, awaiting his word.
“Alright everyone, listen up.” Carn said. “On the eighth day I arrived. On the ninth day I slew the bandits. Now, on the tenth day, I must lead you. So, allow me to lead you.”
The crowd began to whisper with uncertainty. Some welcomed Carn’s leadership, but others were more reluctant - though they accepted the chieftain’s deposal, many still shared his concerns about Carn’s experience, divine champion or not. A few had even been sympathetic to the chieftain, disbelieved Carn’s story, and secretly resented his execution.
Luckily for them, Carn was about to put their concerns to rest.
“From this day forth, the position of chieftain will be decided by vote,” Carn declared. “Not by birth or by bloodshed. When a chieftain dies or steps down, the village will come together and choose a new one. That is my first act as chieftain,” he told them. “And for my second act… I resign.”
The crowd was stunned into silence. Then Carn turned away, and everyone began to speak at once. Some shouted for him to remain, while others declared their support. A few tried to shout for order, but only succeeded in producing more racket. One or two were already attempting to make their case for why they should be elected. In the middle of it all, the priest tried and failed to calm them down.
Carn ignored it all, and continued down the road.
Auriëlle was grinning from ear to ear as she walked beside Carn. “They’re going to tear each other to pieces, you know that right? They’ve been farmers and potters and gods know what else for so many years. You think anyone of them could lead a village?” She looked back at the every increasing racket. “They’re already breaking down.”
Carn shrugged. “You’d be surprised. Some people are more skilled than they appear. At least one of them has to be good at it. If not, they’ll pick someone else.” He threw an arm around her shoulder. “But it’s not our problem anymore, is it?”
After resting and dividing up the treasure, Carn leads the group back to the village. They openly confront the chieftain, calling him out for his betrayal, and Carn is able to successfully turn the crowd against him. Aurielle then proceeds to execute him via immolation.
Afterward, as they are celebrating, Carn leads Aurielle up to his room in the inn. They talk a bit about the day’s events, with Carn revealing that he has no intention of becoming the village’s new chieftain. They then agree to hit the road together.
The next morning, Carn says goodbye to Ruvar and Rollo, then addresses the rest of the village. He tells them that the office of chieftain will henceforth be decided through elections, and then immediately resigns. He and Aurielle walk away.
Clad in his armour, Cadien paced angrily across his throne room, hands crossed behind his back, as he reflected on Aicheil’s visit. The nerve! The gall! What gave that wretch the right!?
Deep in his woes, his thoughts were only broken when a new sound rippled through the throne-room; the now familiar quiet creak of the wooden door that led straight into Neiya’s realm. It swung open with clear direction, and from beyond came sounds of howling wind and the rustle of trees. And in the archway of that portal stepped an unfamiliar silhouette. Thinner, sleeker, than he remembered, with skin like snow stretched over a more athletic form. Horns replaced by white bone in few places, a chaotic remnant of her past form, and metallic, jagged edges draped around her like a shield in others. Fingers like talons. Even the eyes had lost their ice-blue hue for a red and black whorl. Even so, between the frown, the stance, and the simple signature of her divine essence - it was unmistakably Neiya. She wore clothes, a drape of blue and black silk that hugged her form tightly, offering an almost metallic sheen. As was common with the Goddess of Love, she hovered across the entryway, and the door flew closed behind her.
Cadien regarded her new form with mixed feelings - admiration, but also a touch of confusion, particularly toward the protruding bones. Nevertheless, he was happy to see her, for it was a distraction from his own inner turmoil. “Neiya,” he greeted her with a signature smile. “I see you have taken on a new form.”
Neiya in turn watched Cadien with no change to her expression, appearing deeply bothered herself - or simply as distant as ever. Still, she drifted over the room towards the God of Perfection, breathing out a sharp sigh. ”Cadien,” she replied briskly, as she closed the distance. ”Do you like what you see?”
Cadien gave her form another look-over, and he extended a hand to touch her cheek. “I do,” he said sincerely. “Can I ask why you made this change?”
Her white, long claw-like nails raised to offer a gentle caress of Cadien’s cheek in turn, as the Love Goddess continued her drift with a direct intent, pressing herself up against him. ”I am expanding my horizons, Cadien. I have sat idle for too long. Drowned myself in woe, when I could share myself with the world beyond.” she responded with some weight behind her words, though her glance fell to the side in thought as she did. The frown deepened briefly. ”I created an independent servant with my essence.”
Cadien’s arms wrapped around her, careful to avoid the sharp pieces of metal on her back. “Is that so? It is good to hear that you are being more proactive. May I ask what your intentions are?”
”My intentions?” Neiya scoffed quietly, managing to look offended despite not really looking directly at him. Her hand gently rested against his cheek, the other running along to grip at his armor. ”I am a goddess, Cadien. I intend to bring love to Galbar.”
“A noble goal. Galbar surely needs it,” Cadien nodded. His hand lowered to her chin, and he attempted to gently maneuver her face though that she was once again looking at him. “But… perhaps we can put this talk of business aside, for now?” And with those words he leaned in to kiss her. The goddess responded in kind.
Some time later, the two stood on Meliorem’s beach. Cadien had an arm wrapped around her, as the two stared out at the water. “I needed this,” Cadien whispered quietly. “It has been a long day. You were right. Some of our fellow gods really can be obnoxious.”
Neiya shifted her head gently on his shoulder, eyes tracking the gentle bob of waves. ”There truly are no two alike,” she sighed in resigned agreement. ”You didn’t seem that upset with… what was his name, again? ... Illyd... last time, though. Anyone particular, in mind?”
“I am sorry about Illyd. Truly. Though, if it is any consolation, I did convince him to offer aid to some of our worshipers.” He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. “As for some of the more unpleasant gods… well, Aicheil came to mind. He came here recently. He refused to engage in polite conversation, and demanded that I shared knowledge with him. When I did - more out of pity, than anything else - he became angry, drove a number of mortals insane, and then saw fit to criticize me.” Cadien shook his head, still bewildered at the Dream God’s rudeness. “Can you believe it?”
”The Dreamer came here?” asked with some measure of surprise. Her head twisted to glance up at Cadien as he described his encounter, and the goddess followed his expression with a mixture of fascination and displeasure. She waved dismissively with her free hand, the other tucked neatly around Cadien’s arm. ”Perhaps that is simply how he is. He became angry with me as well, and treated me poorly,” she sighed quietly. ”Someone should make sure he stays in line.”
“Perhaps. He certainly won’t be allowed back in my realm any time soon. Do let me know if he ever gives you further trouble, my dear. I will not stand for it.”
Neiya ran her free hand over Cadien’s torso with a simple exhale to follow. ”What would I do without you, Cadien? I feel like the others out there will tear us apart, either by force or by trickery. There are none like us.”
“Which others?” Cadien asked. “Gibbou? I do believe you warned me about her when we reunited. What precisely happened between you two anyway?”
The idle caress over Cadien’s chest paused, a clear hesitation in the goddess’ motion before she resumed her gentle show of affection with her talons. ”Before the… change,” she began with a soft tone, a heavy sigh breaking up her sentence. ”...When we still walked Galbar. She came to my lake. I-... she showed me her true colours that day. Spoke with such spite and malice that-...” the grip around Cadien’s arm grew tighter. ”It stuck with me for millennia. She wished me nothing but harm when we parted. When I heard you speak her name, I… I feared she had taken you from me as well.”
Cadien was genuinely surprised, and even somewhat saddened by the revelation. “I see…” he said softly. “I have indeed spoken to her, on multiple occasions. I never would have guessed she was capable of acting like that. This is… troubling. I will keep what you have said in mind.” He took a deep breath. “Are there any others who have troubled you?”
”Well, no. Although some are… off-putting. The shared realm beyond ours is not for me.” she mused with some bitterness to her words. ”And… I worry I may have overstepped with a few. Not all-.. Understand me as you do, Cadien. They think I am a monster. Broken, or crazy.”
“You carry a difficult burden,” Cadien said sympathetically, recalling the memories and feelings she had bestowed upon him in their first meeting. “I can attempt to have a word with a few others on your behalf. Perhaps I might convince them to be less judgemental. You’re no monster, and you certainly aren’t broken.”
The goddess sighed contently, expression mellow as she gazed up at Cadien. She squeezed his arm, and remained quiet for a fairly long time, simply appearing to appreciate their shared proximity. When she spoke, it was of something else. ”I created a new being on Galbar.”
“Oh? Cadien asked, surprised by the sudden turn in conversation. “What would that be?”
”Would you like to see them? They call themselves Neiyari, after their mother.” she chimed in with a new fancy to her voice, watching Cadien with anticipation.
“I would love to,” Cadien smiled. “Let’s have a look.”
Neiya raised her hand from his chest, gently cradling his cheek once more. Her eyes shifted and roiled for a moment, before turning milky white. A brief jolt of energy, before she shared her senses with Cadien’s own. He could see through her eyes, and more importantly, through an avatar down on Galbar. The bright and vibrant colours of the Luminant were instantly recognizable. He felt an intent, a veiled thought, cast through the connection, and the avatar moved in response. The view turned, and revealed a group of winged humanoids, tall and youthful. Each was different, with different hues of pale or darker skin - some as white as Neiya’s new form, and with wings that shifted from black to red and brown in different combinations. The avatar spoke a single command, and they bowed deep on the ground, wings cradling in around them. ”They will spread my love, when I cannot.”
“Beautiful, diverse, versatile, disciplined… you have designed them well,” Cadien nodded approvingly, more taken in at the moment by what he was seeing than what he was hearing. “To my knowledge, the only creature that surpasses their beauty are our Merelli.”
”The merellis’ beauty cannot be matched. But what the Neiyari lack in beauty, they make up for with affinities more suited to their purpose.” Neiya returned with a sigh. Another thought flitted through the connection, and the avatar twisted to leap into the sky, a brief flutter of wings before the vision ended, and Neiya removed her hand from Cadien’s cheek. ”They cannot be stopped. Will not be. I wasted so much time, Cadien. I don’t know what I was waiting for.”
“I would ask that you make my name known to them,” Cadien requested. “Their progress may be interesting to follow.”
”Of course, my sweet. Nothing would please me more.” she professed with a calm tone, leaning her head back down on Cadien’s shoulder. She waited for a few moments before changing the subject again. ”Say, you’ve met a lot of our kin, have you not?”
Cadien nodded. “I have. What of it?”
”Well, we were talking about gods that bothered me, before-... Since you’ve met so many, maybe you know who to stay away from.” She cleared her throat quietly. ”I don’t want to find myself in another situation like… like those.”
“Most of the gods I have met have been civil. Then again, I did misjudge Gibbou. Still, I will offer what advice I can.” He stroked his chin. “Hm… Tekret and Haerthus were quite angry when I first met them, and it took some effort on my part to calm them down. Sirius was somewhat evasive, but otherwise gave me no issues. Genesis has the mind of a child, which led to a misunderstanding when we first met, but one I was able to correct. Only Aicheil was beyond reason. I find that most gods are quite easy to get along with if I pay them respect and compliments - they tend to respond in kind.”
Her long nails ran up to caress his chin and cheek, the goddess remaining quiet for a time as she processed all the names that were offered up. Eventually, she nodded, a gentle shift against his shoulder. ”I think perhaps I should stay away from these angry gods you speak of. When Fìrinn told me about Genesis, they failed to mention it was a child. Oraelia-...” she responded, a brief hesitation as she caught her own words. ”Oraelia seemed to be taking good care of her, though.”
“Well, that is good to hear,” Cadien said. “Though… the possibility that the others might try to tear us apart still remains a concern. I suppose there is only one thing that can be done about that.”
”Oh?” the goddess replied softly. ”What do you have in mind?”
“We must trust each other,” he said simply. “Should I ever hear anything that might sour my opinion of you, I will ask you for an explanation before I jump to conclusions. And should you hear anything about me, you shall do the same. Can you promise this to me?”
”Oh, Cadien.” Neiya uttered with a content mockery of resignation as she sighed. She twisted to face him, leaning in against his arm and shoulder. White talons gently grasped his cheek, guiding him to look her in the eyes. Even now, red and black stirred in a slow vortex in her irises. ”I promise you. I shall never trust another god as much as I trust you. Not for as long as we live.”
Cadien was genuinely touched by her words. “And I promise the same to you,” he vowed, pressing his lips against hers. Neiya responded in kind, closing her eyes as they kissed. Her hand moved to hold the god close, unwilling to break the moment early. Eventually, however, her hand eased away, as did the goddess, once more gazing upon the God of Perfection in silence. It was an intense scrutiny, tranquil - though the roil in her eyes did not cease - and held with fascination. In that moment, she seemed ready to watch him for all eternity.
“Come,” Cadien said, suddenly taking her hand. “You showed me the Neiyari. There is something I must show you as well.” Neiya gasped ever so slightly as he took her hand, and gently released his shoulder, but otherwise did not object.
He led her back up to the keep, through the courtyard, through the halls of his fortress, and finally to the throne room. They came to a stop by the great wooden table at the center. “Let me tell of you Acadia,” he said.
And so, Cadien spent the next several minutes regaling Neiya with the story of Acadia. He began by telling her of the Iskrill, creating tiny live versions of them which ran across the table, until he snapped them out of existence with disdain. “The Iskrill are abominations,” he told her. “Ugly, cruel without purpose, and as far as I know incapable of love. If they had been created as their own unique species like the trolls, they might perhaps be more tolerable, but they were not. They were created from humans, warped and twisted against their original purpose. An insult.” He shook his head with disgust. “And soon, they began to prey on those humans who remained pure. The only ones who weren’t killed were those who fled.”
“But eventually, I took notice, and I inspired the humans to resist.” He created a small mound of dirt on his table, upon which a miniature army of tiny humans held off a similarly scaled army of iskrill. A woman stood amongst the humans, wielding fire and flame, driving the beasts back. Then, a second army appeared, taking the iskrill in the flank.
“The iskrill were driven back,” Cadien continued, wiping the scene anyway. Then he raised another one. That of an iskrill army with their backs to the sea - represented by a small puddle of water. This time, it was the humans who were on the attack. “But it was not just the humans who fought them. I called upon the Merelli for aid too, for it is only natural that they should help their cousins.” Then, dozens of Merelli warriors emerged from the puddle, driving spears into the iskrill’s backs.
Some of the iskrill were able to break away from the human and merelli pincer attack. They fled across the table, where a tiny pine forest appeared. “The few iskrill who survived fled into a broken, shattered forest.” He snapped his fingers, and once more the table was cleared. The model of a city appeared on it soon after. “And to celebrate their victory, the humans and merelli built a city, where they dedicated themselves to perfecting the art of war. The city was intended to act as a shield against the iskrill, should they ever return.”
”You said they were created?” Neiya chimed in with a musing thought. She had paid an inordinate amount of attention to Cadien’s display of war and history, nails gently tapping against the table in idle thought. ”Perhaps someone is trying to destroy your legacy. Who would twist the creations of another into something so-... animalistic?”
“I do not know,” Cadien shrugged. “I can’t help but view it as an insult. Either against me, or Evandra, for she helped create the humans too. Nevertheless, you are right: they are a threat to my legacy, and I cannot tolerate them.” He waved his hand, and the image of the city shrunk. Its surroundings turned into a map, revealing its precise location in the Highlands.
“The iskrill were driven from the northeast, but there was also a large population across the river to the west. I assumed that Oraelia would be able to deal with them, for her worship was prevalent in the area. For a time, they kept the iskrill at bay. But it seems she fell idle. A few decades before we gods were reunited, a city which dedicated itself to her was destroyed.” That very same city appeared on the map, smoking and in ruins. “Now these ruins belong to the iskrill. And if they figure out how to cross the river, they can attack Acadia from the west. Meanwhile, the iskrill who fled into the Abberant have replenished their numbers. In the south, a third species has taken up root in the Highlands, waging war with humans and iskrill alike.”
Cadien shook his head. “As you can see, the situation for Acadia is rather grim. The city dedicates itself foremostly to me, but your name there is still respected and loved - especially among our children. They may require support at some point in the future, and I would ask that you consider providing it.”
The frown that played on Neiya’s lips was one Cadien had seen many times at this point, even though her form was only wearing it for the first time. Though she made a show of watching the map, and even seeming to consider his words, she seemed distant - caught up on some other thought. Not long after, her question confirmed the suspicion. ”You’ve mentioned this-... this Evandra a fair few times now. I didn’t know she was so instrumental. Surely she cares about your joint creation as I do ours, hm?” she lifted her hand from the table, running talons gently along her own chin in sullen thought.
Cadien nodded. “She was the first deity I encountered,” he told her. “And yes, I have considered bringing this matter to her as well. But she spent the entire separation sleeping, and seemed quite shaken upon waking up, so I decided to allow her time to adjust.”
The goddess touched her own arm, pressing out a calm ”How thoughtful of you.” before she gave Cadien a smoldering glower from the side. Lifting her chin, she seemed to battle her own thoughts for a moment before continuing. ”Well. It seems to me if she spent all this time sleeping, she should be eager to catch up with those of us who actually care. I suppose I will provide support for your city. I will not abandon my children.”
Cadien shrugged. “I have not spoken to her since she awoke, so I cannot say what she has been up to. If you wish, the two of us can go speak to her right now. Perhaps the three of us might come up with something together.”
Neiya’s reaction was somewhere between a gasp and a scoff. The pale goddess lifted her last hand from the table, raising it in a mock gesture to place over her heart. She kept a sullen stare on Cadien for a time, before giving a regal lift of her chin once more. ”I think not. I wouldn’t want to stir anyone out of their beauty sleep. I’m certain she needs it to do-.. Whatever it is she rules over.”
Cadien looked at her in confusion, and then understanding seemed to dawn. He stepped closer and gently embraced her. “Neiya,” he said softly. “We agreed to trust each other, did we not? Evandra is my friend, but you are the one I love.”
The love goddess stood stiffly at first, agonizingly quiet. She frowned still, but eventually relented as she gazed away from Cadien. ”Yes. Fine,” she conceded with a sullen tone. ”I’ll not sit idle while your creation is ravaged by these creatures. I do trust you, and I want to help.” Finally, she looked back at Cadien, her displeasure warped to an indignant demand for attention.
“Do you love me?” Cadien suddenly found himself asking.
Neiya stared at him quietly, features softening slowly. Shifting in his embrace, she laid her arms around his shoulders, gaze meeting his. She took her sweet time to reply, but when she finally did, it was with a calmer voice. ”I do. I love you, Cadien. Always, and forever.”
The God leaned forward once more, and the kiss they shared was far longer and tender than any that came before.
Cadien is angrily pacing in his realm after meeting Aicheil, when suddenly Neiya appears looking all new and cool with her new domain form. Cadien asks what brought on the change, and Neiya gives a cagey speech about being proactive in bringing love to Galbar.
Later on, the pair find themselves on the beach in Cadien’s realm, where they share a plethora of details with each other. Cadien asks about Gibbou, and Neiya implies that the moon goddess is more sinister than she seems. They talk about other gods as well, and Cadien pledges to protect Neiya from Aicheil if it comes to that. Neiya shows Cadien the Neiyari through the eyes of her avatar, and neglects to mention Oraelia’s involvement. Finally, the pair promise to trust each other first and foremost, to guard from others trying to split them apart.
Finally, Cadien leads Neiya back to the throne room to regale her with stories about the Iskrill and the city of Acadia, in hopes that she will lend her support to their survival and continued perseverance. Due to a casual mention of Evandra, Neiya turns bitter and jealous, though still pledges to assist humanity while shittalking a goddess she’s never met. Cadien feels like his emotions are being bypassed, and prompts Neiya whether she feels as he does. She says she does, and they embrace in a kiss.
Carn had just finished arming and armouring himself when there was a knock at his door.
He opened it, expecting to see Ruvar, or Arika, or perhaps even Aurielle, but he found himself staring face to face with two of the village guardsmen. The guards stared at him impassively. “You are required to come with us,” one of them said. “The chieftain demands your presence.”
Carn swallowed. Well… this wasn’t good. He had feared that the priest’s ‘prophecy’ would get back to the chief, and now it had. Some part of him had shared Aurielle’s suspicion that this was a mere powerplay, but he had hoped he and his ragtag host would be well away from the village before that happened. No such luck, unfortunately.
He saw Arika being marched down the hall by two other guards. With a frown, he decided to follow his own escort. They had knocked, and they had neither drawn their weapons nor made any threats, which Carn took as a good sign. He was marched down the stairs, through the inn’s common room, and out into the village’s main street.
There, a crowd had formed. The village chieftain stood upon a raised platform. The priest stood next to him, flanked by a pair of guards and with his hands bound.
Oh, great.
Carn and Arika were brought up to the platform, their weapons taken from them.
“People of Evenstar,” the Chieftain declared in a gruff authoritative voice. “There has been a plot to usurp my authority. A plot to use this bandit threat as an excuse to depose me, and replace me with an outsider! The culprit of this plot stands beside me, our very own priest!”
The crowd began to whisper amongst themselves, with a wide variety of emotions. “The priest may be a man of the gods,” the Chieftain continued. “But in this village, my word is law. He claims that Cadien sent him a message, but let me ask you this: when have the gods ever spoken to anyone? Such a thing has never been known to occur, and for a mortal to deem themselves worthy of a divine’s attention would be the height of arrogance!”
Auriëlle sat atop a nearby house’s roof, enjoying an apple she did in fact pay for. Though she only just arrived there. If she had seen the guards march, she would’ve warned Carn. Sadly, the gods were once more cruel. Or uncaring. As the chieftain said, claiming to have the attention of a god is just hubris. She couldn’t save them now. Maybe she could kill two of the guards but then she would die too. It was a shame, really. She had grown to like Carn. At least he gave her some excitement. “Been good knowing you, Carn.” She whispered to herself so she wouldn’t get caught atop the roof.
“Please,” the priest interjected. “I speak the truth!”
“I repeat, to claim the attention of a divine is the height of arrogance! It was you yourself who told us this!” the chieftain declared with an accusatory finger. “Yet now, you claim that Cadien himself spoke to you and decided I was unfit for leadership! So what do you plea? Madness, or treachery?”
The priest frowned. “That isn’t what He said. He said…”
“What you said,” the chieftain corrected. “And though you didn’t outright call for my removal, the implication was clear enough.” His gaze rounded on Carn. “You. Outsider. You could not have known what our priest was planning, and I’m sure you know as well as I do that a mercenary isn’t fit to lead a village. Call these lies what they are, and I give you my word that no harm will come to you or your comrades.”
Carn frowned, his gaze shifting away from the chieftain, away from the crowd, and off to some distant point on the horizon.
“The chieftain asked you a question, boy,” one of the guards growled.
“Sorry,” Carn apologized. “I’m just trying to see if I can spot any bandits out there.”
The chieftain’s eyes narrowed. “No bandit would dare attack us in broad daylight.”
Carn shrugged. “I didn’t say attack. But I’m sure they’re out there. Laughing at us. Must be amusing to them, watching two men fight over who owns a hut even as it burns down around him.”
The chieftain’s face tightened further. “Indeed,” he said through grit teeth. “Now denounce these lies for what they are. Unless you intend to stoke the fires even further?”
Carn shook his head. “I intend no such thing. To the priest’s claims: I don’t know. No god ever spoke to me, but I can’t say for sure that a god never spoke to him. It is the height of arrogance to claim to understand a god’s motives, is it not?”
The neutral response caught chieftain off guard, and Carn took the opportunity to continue speaking. “The way I see it, you have two options. First option: you can punish me, the priest, and whoever stands with us. But then you’ll have to deal with these bandits yourself, with fewer hands to help you. Then, there’s the second option: give me my volunteers, let us head out to the forest, and I will deal with the bandits myself. If we fail, you’ll never have to worry about us. If we succeed…” Carn shrugged. “I just want my employer’s cart back. I’ll be on my way soon after.”
There was a tense silence, as the entire village hung on the chieftain’s next word. He looked to the crowd, and saw that indeed, most seemed taken in by Carn’s argument. If he were to try anything now, he would risk losing the favour of the bulk of the village. He cleared his throat. “Very well. You, and anyone who wishes to follow you may go out and fight these bandits. I will… I will assign you some of my own personal guard as well.”
Carn looked up to the roof where Aurielle sat and gave her a victorious grin. A few among the crowd - those who had volunteered to join him the previous night - let out cheers. Carn turned back to the small mass of people. “So, who is still interested?”
Most of those who had offered to join him the previous night stepped forward, their numbers bolstered by three or four new faces.
“One more condition,” the chieftain added, in a tone that made Carn pause. “The priest must go with you.”
Carn’s recruits were assembled before him; a ragtag militia armed with whatever they had on hand. Only one or two had a full set of hide or leather armour, while the rest had bits and pieces. Their arms were an assortment of spears, swords, hatches… a few even held farm tools and quarterstaffs. There were thirteen men and women in total. The priest arrived in that moment, an old oaken staff in his hand. Fourteen, not counting Carn, Arika, or Aurielle. Ruvar had wanted to join, but Carn turned him away, and Rollo was still unfit for combat.
The chieftain’s men had still yet to arrive, but Carn felt confident in his force, under-equipped as it was. “So,” he whispered to Aurielle and Arika, “what do you think?”
“They’ll do.” She answered. Though any close inspection told her half would die before they got into the fight. Alas, they just had to get her close enough so she could use her magic. That’s why she was there for, after all. The bounty and the killing. Then her eyes turned towards the priest. She still didn’t trust him. In fact right now she found him pathetic, with a weapon in his hands that couldn’t even pierce skin. Gods she wished she could have convinced the chief to just send in all six guards. They would be better armored and would have a lot more experience with the weapons they held.
Arika shrugged. “They’re not much, but… neither are the bandits, I suppose.” Brigands were, after all, not known for being particularly brave or courageous. The experienced ones only lived as long as they did by never picking hard fights.
Carn nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
In the distance, the chieftain’s guard began to approach - three in total, clad in hardened animal hide while wielding spears and shields.
The sight of them pleased Auriëlle. These were proper warriors. Those shields would come in handy. She leaned in to Carn’s ear and whispered, making sure nobody else would hear it: “They’re going to try to get you and the priest killed.” She turned around to look into the open plains and the forest beyond. Where the bandits were. “It’s what I would do.” Maybe they would try to kill her and Arika as well. Carn smirked at the comment. He leaned in more closely to Aurielle, perhaps slightly closer than necessary. “That’s why I’ll be sending them in first,” he whispered, before pulling back. “They have shields, after all.” With that, he turned and waved to the guards. “Good of you to join us! We’ll be setting out soon.”
The guards took position in the line, looking on the rest of the militia with disapproval.
Meanwhile, Carn turned to address a villager who held a bow. “You there. What’s your name?”
“Edgar, sir,” the bowman answered.
“What is your profession?”
“Hunter, sir.”
“Good. We don’t know where their camp is, so we’ll need a tracker. Stick close to me, Edgar.” He looked to the rest of his force. Twenty in total. “We’ll follow the road,” he decided. “Find where the wagon was attacked. See if we can pick up any trails. Assuming the bastards don’t find us first. Now, let’s head out.”
The three guards had been placed at the head of their makeshift column. Carn had positioned himself in the middle, alongside Arika and Aurielle. The few who had bows were at the rear. The rest were in between.
“Remember,” Carn declared as they walked down the road. “They might see us before we see them. In that case, they might attack first. Some of you might want to run.”
A few nodded subconsciously, betraying their fear.
“Don’t,” Carn advised them. “That’s how they get you. If you run, they’ll just shoot you in the back, and more of you will die. But if you keep your nerve, stand tall, and stay together, you can rush them before they get their next arrow off. They won’t stand a chance.”
“Now,” Carn turned to Aurielle. “How do you think your talents can help us?”
“By letting me kill them from a distance.” Auriëlle said as she kept scanning the trees. “It will be arrows against-“ She stopped herself there. Mocking them and taunting them in the safety of the village was one thing but here she needed them to stay and fight. Or rather stay and distract the enemy for long enough so she could kill them. If she was going to break their already shaking moral it would prove to be disastrous. “Let’s just focus on finding them.” Her tone was miles more serious than the tone she used in the village.
And focus, they did. For three hours, the rest of the journey passed in silence. The makeshift warband, once vigilant and tense, became increasingly relaxed. Only a handful of the party were used to remaining attentive for hours on end without anything interesting happening. Although Carn would remind them from time to time to maintain their focus, there was nothing to stop sheer boredom from setting in.
Then, they were attacked.
A dozen arrows flew from the woods. One struck Carn in the face, the arrowhead passing through one cheek and going out the other. He spun and fell to the ground with a howl of pain. Three more soon joined him, one dead and two dying. Two other men staggered, struck by wounds which were considerably less fatal but caught them off-guard nonetheless. The warband let out cries of panic and alarm, as they were gripped with indecision: they wanted to flee but remembered Carn’s words.
It happened before her eyes. Blood splattered around. The arrow went straight through. Auriëlle was stunned for a moment. One moment she was talking with Carn, the next he fell down and bled like some beast. Then she rushed over. She raised one arm like she was upper-cutting the sky. Rocks and earth flowed. Creating a makeshift mound to protect Carn. Then she rand and slid across the ground to get near him. “Stay down!” She screamed in Carn’s face, before looking up. The band was in chaos. “Get behind the trees! Find the bastards!”
The band fell back, taking cover behind trees and foliage, while the arrows continued to fly.
An arrow landed far too close to her. She let out a yelp of surprise. Her heart was pounding now. Something had to be done. She had to retaliate. Carefully she looked from behind her makeshift barrier. She caught a glimpse of the bastard that was shooting at her. “Die.” She whispered with a venomous tongue.
The man was nocking his next arrow when suddenly his clothes just lit up on fire. He dropped his bow, screamed and began to roll around on the ground. The flames never went out though. No matter how much he screamed.
Then another arrow fell far too close to Auriëlle, forcing her back behind her barricade. “Shit.”
Next to her, Carn stirred. A gloved hand rose up to clutch the arrow which had pierced his face. With a wince, he snapped the arrowhead off. Then his other hand reached for the fletching. The white-haired mercenary took a deep breath, then pulled it out with an agonized groan. He was left with a hole in each cheek, both of which began to gush blood.
But then, to Aurielle’s surprise, the bleeding stopped, and the flesh began to knit itself back together again. But before it had even finished mending, Carn spat out fragments of a tooth, and rose to his feet. With a feral roar, he unsheathed his blade and vaulted over the barricade.
Another arrow flew at him, but he brought his shield up to block it, and began to advance. Five more arrows followed in quick succession; two going wide and three embedding in his shield with a series of loud thunks. A sixth arrow grazed his shield, before taking out one of his ears. That stopped Carn’s advance for only a moment, for just as his face had mended itself, so too did his ear. The remaining militia, who had taken cover in the trees on the opposite end of the forest, stared at him in pure awe as he continued his advance. Edgar loosed an arrow in an attempt to support him, and was rewarded by a cry of pain as one of the bandits fell.
Then Carn reached the treeline, and eleven bandits emerged, attempting to encircle him with a rusty assortment of axes and swords.
A face healing that fast wasn’t normal. Hell, that didn’t even feel like magic. It was too fast, too effortless. Auriëlle kept her eye on the man she thought lost just a second ago as he jumped over the barricade and charged the bandits. “Oh gods damn it.” She said, then she looked at the others just hiding behind the tree or slowly advancing. “Well!? Are you going to let him do all the work you cowards!?” She screamed at her companions, before jumping over the barricade as well. Lightning arced across her right arm. With two fingers she pointed at two of the brigands pulling their axes. A clap of thunder echoed through the trees as lighting arced from her fingers and hit the two. The first one collapsed entirely. His body was still smoking and looked thoroughly burned. The other one was thrown backwards into a tree, suffering burns but he was still breathing.
The remaining bandits recoiled at the flash of light and the smell of burnt flesh. They had expected a loose mob led by a core of experienced fighters. A well-time ambushed and a few volleys should have surely been enough to send such a force into a retreat.
What they had not expected was a sorceress, or a silver-haired warrior who seemed impervious to all attacks. Already, Carn was capitalizing on their shock, swinging his sword across one brigand’s throat, and spilling the guts of another with a stroke across the stomach. A third bandit brought his weapon up in time to block, but that attack had merely been a feint; Carn pulled his blade back at the last moment and thrust it into the bandit’s heart.
“Go! Charge!” Arika’s voice could be heard over the fighting, and the Evenstar militia who still remained leapt from cover and began closing the distance. That was enough to break the bandits, who turned and fled into the woods, just as Carn twisted his blade and pulled it free from the bandit’s ribs.
“After them!” he shouted, taking off in pursuit, with his men on his heels.
A bolt of fire flew in between the trees. It hit one of the bandits in the back. He screamed and rolled until the fire was out. As he tried to get up, Auriëlle reached him. Flames flew from her open hand and engulfed her victim. He screamed and rolled but the flames kept flowing over him. Until he stopped moving entirely. She was smiling the whole time. The power, it was beyond anything she had ever felt. It was so much more than just intoxicating. The rest was already too far out for her magic. Which was a shame. She was now at the rear of the warband. Inspired by Carn, the most fervent of the group were ahead with him. The guards, on the other hand, kept in the middle of the group.
That soon began to change, as the forest became increasingly dense, and the pursuit turned out to be a protracted one. Men were forced to leap and climb over bushes, duck under branches, and sidestep around trees. Some bumped into each other. Others tripped. Carn did not wait for them, for fear of losing those sight of those he pursued, and some fell behind as a result.
Luckily, Carn was able to remain within sight of them. “They’re coming!” one of the bandits shouted in an accent that Carn found strangely familiar. Ahead, he could just make out the telltale sights of a camp: tents, shelters, and a cooking fire.
“Camp ahead!” Carn shouted as he quickened the pace. Only Aurielle, Arika, Edgar, the three guards, and two villagers were still with him.
They burst out from the trees, and it soon became apparent that the dozen bandits who had ambushed them were not all of the bandits. Only about four or so had made it back to camp, but another dozen had awaited them, guarding their ill-gotten spoils. Carn could see crates and barrels stockpiled at the center, some of which had been taken from the cart.
The bandits turned to face them. It was sixteen against nine, but the sixteen were scattered and disorganized. Only a handful were grouped together, and among their leader was a man Carn recognized.
The leader recognized Carn too. “Carn!?” Bellowed Yorn, with both surprise and outrage in his voice. He pointed his sword forward. “Kill him first!” And with those words, the sixteen bandits came charging at them from all sides.
“With me! Charge!” Carn shouted, rushing forward to meet them.
A loud bang traveled through the camp. Lighting lashed at one of the bandits, burning him completely and hurling him through the air until he hit a tree. Auriëlle was completely possessed now. She even missed Carn and the bandit leader recognizing each other, or the order to kill Carn first. Her ears were still ringing from the thunder clap. Her eyes were wide open though, taking in everything around her. Another bandit managed to shoot an arrow at her. It grazed her arm. Auriëlle dropped down to a knee and grasped her arm. It was just a small cut but it hurt and bled. She pushed the pain down, got up and raised her hand as if she was squeezing some invisible fruit. As she tightened her fingers, the bandit began to violently cough. He dropped down on his own knees and spat out some blood. Auriëlle squeezed just a little bit harder, causing him to violently vomit and then collapse. Beside her, Edgar loosed another arrow, pausing to give her a wide-eyed stare before he pulled another one from his quiver.
The others followed Carn, and the melee began in earnest. Arika and the three guards had spears, while the bandits did not, so they were each able to kill one as they closed. But then they drew their shortswords, and thus began the clashing of metal. Carn beat a bandit’s blade aside, then ducked under a swing and body-checked another. The momentum carried him past the bandits’ makeshift line, so he spun, swung, and opened the guts of a bandit who had turned to engage him while deflecting an attack from a second. He took a moment to kick dirt into the eyes of a brigand he had knocked over.
Then Yorn’s axe struck him in the back of the shoulder. His hard leather armour absorbed most of the blow, but the shock of it made him drop his shield. Carn turned and swung his blade low, scoring a cut along the old man’s shin. Yorn fell to one knee, and Carn brought the pommel of his weapon down on the older man’s head.
Six bandits remained on their feet, but Carn’s militia was in rough shape. Only Carn, Edgar, Aurielle, and two of the guards still stood. Arika was on her knees, a shortsword embedded in the left side of her stomach. Two broke free from the melee and attempted to charge Edgar and Aurielle directly.
A cold shiver ran through Auriëlle’s spine as the two bandits charged her. She had been barely aware of them until they’ve gotten far too close. Suddenly she was back in Acadia. Chased by specters. She fell on her back as one of the bandits took a slash at her. “No!” She screamed, as she held her arms in front of her, trying to protect her. Her eyes closed. A wave of pure heat erupted from her. The two bandits caught in the blast weren’t just burned or burning. Their very flesh got completely incinerated. The attackers got completely disintegrated. Auriëlle opened her eyes again and saw the ash and bones before her. She scrambled up, kicked one of the skulls away and screamed her lungs out.
By the time she had finished screaming, the fight was over. All remaining bandits were dead. Edgar had backed up against a tree, his hands shaking as he looked upon her with horror. Carn slumped to his knees, exhaustion finally setting in. A nearby bandit, wounded but not dead, stirred, and it seemed to take all the strength Carn possessed to pull out a belt knife and shove it into the man’s throat. Elsewhere, Arika began to cough up blood. The two guards exchanged solemn looks with one another.
Auriëlle hadn’t felt this tired in...ever. She couldn’t even muster the strength to get up and inspect the gold. She just wanted to scarf down half a pig, take a scalding bath and sleep for half a day. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon though. Victory was tasting quite bitter now that everyone, bandit or militia, was laying or sitting on the ground. “We won.” She told Carn with a feeble smile as she dragged her body towards him. “That was something.” Right in front of him she fell down on her knees. Her body was winding down from the excitement. Her arm was still bleeding and her legs were cramping horribly. Then she inspected her right arm. It wasn’t feeling right. It was tingling. The arcs of lightning that travelled over her arm had been far more unstable than she’d wished them to be. They left lines of slightly burned skin all over her, forming a web. “Damn.” Was all she could say. Then she turned to Carn. “You good?”
Carn looked at her and opened his mouth to reply, when he caught movement in the corner of his eye.
Yorn attempted to stand. Carn threw himself at the older man and pinned him to the ground, pressing a knife against his throat. “So, Yorn…” Carn breathed… “explain to me… what you’re doing… out here?”
“Carn…” Yorn rasped. “You killed the last of your people… you stupid bastard…”
Carn’s grip on Yorn’s greying hair tightened. “What do you mean?”
“Open your eyes. These are the same people we left Thyma with…”
Carn looked around, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Then he pressed Yorn’s face deeper into the dirt. “There weren’t this many back then.”
“We picked up… new members… over the years. But the core… we were all that was left.”
“You cast me out,” Carn growled. “Then you became murderers and brigands. No better than the men who destroyed our home. Yet you judge me?”
“We had no choice… your stupidity made us outlaws.”
“I was a boy,” he growled.
“You were the blood of Cadien and the son of a chieftain… you should have known better. You still don’t. You killed us.”
“You’re right,” Carn seethed. “I did.” A sharp tug, then the blade opened flesh, and more blood spilled onto the grass to mix with the rest.
She listened as attentive as she could. Blood of Cadien and son of a chieftain? Thyma? She couldn’t care if they were ‘his’ people. That was a fight for him. One he clearly decided to finish when the ended the miserable bandit’s life. What interested Auriëlle far more was someone else confirming him to be of the blood of Cadien. Which explained a lot. “So you really are blessed by a god.” She managed to say. “That’s why you heals so fast. You could’ve told me.” Then again she hadn’t been particularly forthcoming either.
Carn offered a weary shrug. “I don’t know if I was blessed directly. All I know is that my father had some sort of… bond, with Cadien, and I suppose I inherited something out of that. It… it doesn’t matter much, anymore. My home is destroyed, and if I ever had Cadien’s favour… I never heard his voice.” He cast his gaze down at Yorn’s body. “I just… try to get by…”
A shadow passed over them. Carn looked up just in time to see one of the guards raise his spear, ready to drive it through Aurielle’s back. Instinctively he shoved her aside, then raised his small knife as if it would somehow protect him against the much larger weapon.
It didn’t have to. Carn’s swift reaction gave the treacherous guard pause, long enough for another spear to pierce the guard’s back instead. The tip punched all the way through his chest, and his eyes widened, as blood began to well up in his mouth. He slunk to his knees, to reveal the second guard behind him, with an exhausted and regretful expression.
Auriëlle was about to yell at Carn when she noticed the guard that had loomed over her just a minute ago. Suddenly every bit of pain in her muscle became but a distant sensation. She shot up and raised her hand towards the second guard. An orb of fire formed in her hand, which was trembling at this point. Her eyes were staring at her target, yet her ragged breaths betrayed her exhaustion. Both physically and emotionally. “Give me one reason not to burn you alive!” She yelled at the second guard with a mixture of rage and desperation.
The sole remaining guard’s eyes widened, but fortunately he was a quick thinker. “B-because I just saved you!” he said, taking a step back. “And… and you need someone to vouch for you.”
The situation began to clear up in her rather addled mind. Especially considering the first guard laid dead with the second guard’s spear through him. She took a deep breath and let the orb of fire vanish. “Speak quickly. Why did you kill him and why did he try to kill me?”
“The chieftain ordered us to make sure Carn and the priest didn’t come back alive.” He then gestured to his fallen comrade. “He wanted to carry that order out. I didn’t. I thought it was bloody stupid, and I didn’t want to die.”
“Good idea.” She said, though she didn’t sit down again. Even though every bit of pain and aching returned to her. “So what are we going to do now?” She asked Carn. Yes, she did anticipate this. Yet now that it happened, it felt a lot more personal. She had thought she could walk away from it. Not now. Well the chieftain made a new enemy now. Her eyes betrayed that bloodlust.
Carn surveyed the carnage. Arika had died at some point during their conversation. A pity. Edgar was gone, probably fled. Carn, Aurielle, and the guard seemed to be the only ones left. “The way I see it, only one more person needs to die today,” He said. “But we need to think about our next move. If…” before he could continue, the snapping of twigs betrayed the sound of people approaching.
Carn tensed. Yet the figures who appeared from the brush were not hostile, only strays. Those in the militia who had either fallen behind or deliberately held back. There were only three of them, but two more followed over the course of the next few minutes, both limping from wounds. After that came the priest, who was clutching his side.
Carn explained the situation to them all, and they all became enraged.
“I truly had nothing against the chieftain before today,” the priest breathed. “He was strict, he was harsh, he was rude, even paranoid… but I thought those were just the burdens of his post. Now though… now I see that he must be deposed. He is cruel. Mad, even.” His eyes found Carn’s. “Cadien’s prediction must come true. You must replace him.”
Auriëlle kept her eyes on Carn now. Would he accept the responsibility or just kill the chieftain? She knew what choice she would make. The way she saw it, prophecy or not Carn had no real responsibility towards the village. He just lumbered in with some wounded and took some volunteers to get the gold back. “He’s a dead man walking.” Auriëlle casually said about the chieftain. She meant the words though.
“We can worry about replacing him later,” Carn muttered, rising to his feet. “That’s not supposed to happen until tomorrow, isn’t it?” He stepped over to the crates and boxes stacked neatly in the center of the camp. He picked a sword from a bandit’s corpse and used it to pry a lid off, to reveal glittering gold underneath. “Tomorrow can wait.” He pulled a golden amulet from the crate, with a small blood red ruby set in the center. “Right now, we divide the spoils.” He tossed the amulet toward Aurielle, and his eyes met hers. “Tonight, we take revenge.”
She caught the amulet. It looked beautiful. Perhaps even more important, it looked expensive. Like something she would’ve worn if her parents hadn’t been deadly ashamed of her existence. Without hesitation she put it on and then walked up the box. Jewels were nice but people on the road needed cold hard coins. Gold coins were always taken.
Carn wakes up and is escorted by some guards to the middle of the village. Turns out the chieftain found out about the priest’s prophecy and wasn’t happy about it. He is basically accusing the priest of plotting to depose him and replace him with a stranger.
Carn then tells the crowd he doesn’t know if the priest is correct or not, but the bandits still need to be dealt with. He assures them he has no plans to take over the village, but asks for a team of volunteers so he can deal with the brigands anyway. He makes a convincing speech and the chieftain grudgingly agrees, even loaning him three of his personal guards.
They set out later that day, and eventually walk into an ambush. The impact is devastating at first, but Carn and Aurielle are able to rally the survivors and pursue the ambushers all the way back to their camp, where a brutal melee ensues, with Carn’s forces eventually emerging victorious.
The survivors are exhausted. Arika is dead. One of the guards attempts to kill Aurielle only for another guard to kill him first, explaining that the chieftain gave them orders to ensure Carn didn’t come back alive. Carn and Aurielle are pissed off at this development, so they decide it’s time to head back to the village and deal with the chieftain. But first, Carn decides to redistribute some of the loot at the village camp among the surviving militia.
Carn Beginning: 9 +5 for 10k characters Ending: 14
Aurielle Beginning: 13 +5 for 10K characters -10 to upgrade Hekatiah I to II -3 to for impressive feat: complete disintegration sorcery Ending: 5
As the four crested the hill, the village of Evenstar came into view. “Oh thank Tekret,” Ruvar breathed exhaustedly. The sun was low on the horizon. They had been travelling for hours, and even though they had long since broken out from the forest, the journey had been hard on the soft merchant nonetheless. The wounded guard, who had eventually introduced himself as Rollo, was winded as well.
Carn and Arika, for their part, had been wary. Without the forest, they had only the hills for cover. And while hills offered a great view, anyone could see if you were standing atop one.
Fortunately, the bandits had been preoccupied with looting the village, and there seemed to be no others in the area. They had been able to reach the village with little incident. And now, the four hurried on, eager for the refuge the small community provided.
Another day, another stinking place to call home for the night. Auriëlle knew absolutely nothing about the village of Evenstar except that it existed and that it laid at the end of the mud road she was following. That was generally enough. Most places were alike to her. Except as she crested the hill that looked over the village, she noticed that there was a suspicious amount of desolation there. More than usual. Looting became common in the southern region, or so she thought.
She didn’t care. Auriëlle hadn’t cared about much in the last three years. She just drifted from place to place, doing odd jobs. There were always people willing to pay for a little magic. It was all meaningless though. It was all just survival. The first year she made the mistake of staying too long. People were happy to see water move or the small arcs of lighting in between her fingers. But when the fires danced to her hands, most wanted her out. She understood, though she wished she could go somewhere where she could use those big flames without being forced to march in armies.
From the hill she made her way to the village. Most ignored her. She was dressed like a mercenary, yet lacked any obvious weapon. Save for her copper knife on her hip. Save for a watchful guard who stood at the village’s fringes and eyed her warily as she passed, her arrival went unnoticed. She would soon discover why, for a sizeable crowd had gathered on the other side of the small settlement.
That caught her attention. Crowds could be fun, unless they were happy crowds for marriages. Though generally, when a crowd formed it was more often for a fight. She began to push through the crowd without apologies. They weren’t chanting or screaming and there was no commotion coming from the center though. This wasn’t a fight. She looked at their faces and saw a slight hint of awe. Was some Ketrefian princeling marching into town? She was curious now. Finally she reached the edge of the crowd and saw who they had gathered around.
What she saw was considerably less impressive than what she had imagined. An out-of-breath merchant, a wounded man who wore the battered mismatched armour of a mercenary, and two more mercenaries who were in considerably better condition. One was a woman, while the other was a strange-yet-handsome looking man with fine white hair in bright purple eyes.
Both the woman and the wounded man looked to the merchant for guidance, as if expecting him to take charge, but he was too winded to speak. So instead, the white-haired man stepped forward. “Stop gawking and bring us someone who can treat his wound!” he waved a hand to indicate the wounded man.
For the first time in far too long, she smelled something else than a gods forsaken village. For one, the merchant looked far too plump and far too nice to do much fighting on his own. Especially considering he had his three fairly well armed friends. Which meant he had money to pay them. Yet here they were, winded, dirty and without much else. She smelled excitement.
So she stepped out of the crowd. “Not a healer.” She immediately announced. Someone else would take care of that. Then she turned specifically to the white-haired big guy with the strange eyes. A grin formed on her lips. This day was getting better and better. “You’re Carn.” She was stating it as a fact. Mostly in the hope that they could skip some of the pleasantries and show him that she knew who he was and what he did. “What happened to him?” She asked as she pointed at the wounded merchant.
Carn’s eyebrows rose when she recognized him, but he did not let that distract him from the business at hand. “Bandits,” he answered, waving back the way they came. “They attacked our cart. One of our own turned on us and another two were killed.” Meanwhile, someone in the crowd had peeled away, heading for the village shrine.
Six guards in total? This far south? There was a fair chance the load was gold. Which meant the merchant was more loaded than she first thought. That was good. She turned to the winded trader and asked: “How much if I help you retrieve your cart?”. Bandits were dangerous, even for her. Yet it had been a year now since last her heart beat with excitement. Surely with the locally famous Carn everything would be okay. A skeptical look crossed Carn’s face, as if she was wondering what help she could be with just a knife. But the merchant spoke next, having recovered his breath. “I’ll pay you well,” he said. “The cart was loaded with-”
The wounded guard punched him in the shoulder, and both men let out pained grunts.
“We can discuss payment later,” Carn told her. “For now, we have a wounded man who needs treatment, and the rest of us need to sit down. Now move aside!” That last part was directed toward the crowd as a whole, rather than Aurielle specifically.
The crowd swiftly parted, just as two older-looking men arrived. One was dressed in the threadbare robes of a priest, who stared at Carn with a certain sense of awe, while the other wielded a staff and had the finer robes of a chieftain. “And what’s going on here?” the chieftain asked in an authoritative tone.
Carn frowned, as once more he was required to offer an explanation. “Bandits,” he said rather bluntly. “We have a wounded man and he needs treatment.”
“Mind your manners, boy, you’re speaking to a chieftain,” the leader of the village sneered. Then, he tapped the priest on the shoulder, and pointed to the wounded guard. “Tend to him.”
The priest nodded and hurriedly stepped over to the wounded man’s side. Placing a hand on his good shoulder, the priest began guiding him toward the village shrine. The priest kept glancing back at Carn during the walk.
Meanwhile, the chieftain addressed the rest of the crowd. “Go back to your lives. There’s nothing to see here.” And with those words, the bulk of the crowd parted, as the chieftain turned back toward his hall.
Auriëlle kept her eyes on the priest. There were few people she distrusted as much as a priest. She ignored the chieftain’s call to disperse and turned to Carn while his comrade was helped towards the local shrine. “We should find an inn to stay at.” She said. Then she got closer to Carn. “Why was that priest looking at you the whole time?” She asked, as she followed him towards wherever he would go.
Carn shrugged. “How should I know? People are always looking at me. Either due to my rugged good looks, or my strange hair,” his expression shifted to a smirk. He was considerably more relaxed, now that the wounded man was being treated and he was receiving something close to hospitality.
“You’re not that good looking.” Auriëlle said. It was a lie, but she wasn’t about to admit that he was one of the better looking men she had met so far. Though she didn’t forget the priest watching them. They were always up to something. Spinning stories, telling you what you should and shouldn’t do. Maybe she would pay him a visit later tonight. She wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. “I’m Auriëlle.” She said, to introduce herself.
Carn, Aurielle, and the female mercenary who went by the name of Arika sat down at a table at the village inn. The merchant, Ruvar, had decided to accompany the priest to the shrine in order to ensure Rollo was alright. “So,” Carn said, after Aurielle had ordered a drink, looking around the room to make sure nobody was listening in. “You’re interested in helping us get that wagon back?”
“It’s suicide,” Arika interjected. “There were at least a dozen of them. Probably more. We won’t stand a chance.”
Auriëlle clearly did not share Arika’s concern. She just grinned ear to ear. A dozen, a proper challenge. She even fell back in her chair and took a big swig of her watered wine as she tried to stifle a laugh. “A dozen? Maybe more? Perfect. The more there are, the more fun it will be.” There was a fire in her eyes now. No, there would be no sleep tonight. Then she turned to Carn and leaned in to make sure only those at the table would hear it: “Yes, I’m very interested.”
“I hope you brought more than just that knife, then,” Arika muttered.
Auriëlle hovered her hand over her own tankard and slowly raised it. Droplets of water, suspended in the air, lifted out of it. Not too high, just high enough to show those at the table. Then she dropped them in the wine again. “I can do a lot more but I don’t trust this place. I wouldn’t be surprised if one poor sap was already running to your bandits telling them a redhead joined the survivors.” And she most certainly didn’t want to give away that she was a sorceress. Then she turned back to Carn. “So tell me what happened. I need to know in what sort of place we’ll find this scum.” She sounded almost thrilled.
“A rather pretty redhead at that,” Carn had whispered, much to Arika’s annoyance. Then he got to business. “They ambushed us on the south road, as we were passing through the woods. They cut down a tree to serve as a roadblock, but we saw through it. Unfortunately, one of our own turned on us, and even without that, the bandits still outnumbered us.”
“You were here before we were,” Arika pointed out. “Have you heard anything about these bandits?”
“No.” Auriëlle answered. She sunk back into her chair, this time without laughter. She needed to think. “So what’s the plan?” She asked them, though she was mostly looking at Carn.
“First, we need a few more people.” Carn decided. “Even if Rollo recovers, the four us will be hard-pressed to do this alone. There’s at least a dozen of them, and they all have bows… if I could get in the midst of them, I’d cut most of them down, but I suspect they would fill me with arrows before that.”
More people meant more people with whom she’d have to split her share. Auriëlle wasn’t that thrilled about the idea of sharing that much. Still, he had a point. Four against twelve in unfamiliar terrain. It might be a bit too risky. “I think if you took a tour in this place, you could round up maybe eight or seven men. Especially with your reputation.” Then she turned to Arika. “So are you like, his woman?”
The question made Carn chuckle. Arika narrowed her eyes. “No!” she blurted out angrily, causing more than a few heads to turn. “I met him two days ago!”
Auriëlle sat back in her chair and raised her arms as if she was surrendering. “Was just asking.” She said. “So what’s your story? With the white hair and the…eyes?” She then asked Carn. “And if you tell me it came from a god, I will slap you.” Carn shrugged. “Slap me then, because that’s what I was told since the day I was born.”
She actually did reach over, though she didn’t wind up her arm. Instead Auriëlle just gently tapped his cheek and sat back down. “You don’t actually believe that, do you? The gods aren’t watching us. They don’t care.” Not when things like Iskrill exist. It was impossible to deny their existence but she had doubted their intentions a lot in the past years. “If they did, wouldn’t you think your divine parent would’ve protected you and your friends from that ambush?”
Carn’s languid expression darkened. “The only ‘parents’ I know died, when some crazed warriors attacked my village. My father always claimed to be the Champion of Cadien, but in the end it didn’t do him or the rest of my family much good. But I know my appearance isn’t natural, and I’ve seen a few other unnatural things over the years too. So for an actual answer to that question: I don’t know. But if a god was watching over me, I suspect I would have had better luck by now.”
Auriëlle raised her tankard. “Cheers to that, my friend. Cheers to that.”
“That talk is blasphemy,” Arika whispered. “You should both have more respect.”
Blasphemy, as if the gods cared. Auriëlle knew they didn’t. She just chuckled at Arika and said: “If I have done anything wrong to the gods then may they strike me down with great vengeance and furious anger.” She raised her tankard again in great defiance and this time emptied it whole.
“I’d be more concerned about the anger of those around us,” Carn commented. All eyes were on them now, and her comments had not gone unheard. Some directed hateful stares toward her. Others grew fearful, bowing their heads and praying or even leaving the building entirely, as if her challenge could very well invite the wrath of the gods.
“Alright, enough is enough,” the Innkeeper said, drawing near. “Get out. I’ll not have blasphemers sleeping under my roof.”
The innkeeper got a deadly stare from Auriëlle. She kept at it for a moment, but then released a deep sigh. “Too far again.” She mumbled to herself as she got up. “Alright then. Guess I’ll find somewhere else to get some sleep.” She offered no other resistance as she got up and walked towards the door of the inn.
And in that moment, the door swung open, and in stepped the priest. He stood in Aurielle’s path, but did not move aside, and instead scanned the room. His gaze settled on the white-haired man who had just risen from his own hair. “You,” the priest said. “Are you Carn?”
“That I am,” Carn said as he stepped up next to Aurielle. “I’m quite popular around here, it seems.”
The priest dropped to one knee, and cast his gaze downward. “You must save us.”
Carn’s face fell. “I must what?”
Auriëlle’s face fell as well. “He must what?”
“Over a week ago, I received a message from Cadien. He said: ‘in seven days, your land will be plagued by bandits. On the eighth day, a white-haired warrior will arrive. On the ninth day, he will defeat them. On the tenth day, he will lead you.” The priest looked up at Carn. “That can only be you. You’re not the first to fall victim to these bandits; they made their first attack yesterday. And now you’re here. Just as foretold.” He dipped his head down again. “F-forgive me. I thought I was hallucinating. Or dreaming. Neither I nor my predecessor have never known the gods to speak to a mortal directly…”
She managed to keep it together throughout the explanation the priest gave. In fact, Auriëlle made an effort to hear every last drop of what he had to say. Yet when it was clear he was finished, she couldn’t contain herself and burst out laughing. She even bent over clutching her stomach as tears came out of her eyes. She then pushed the priest back out of the inn and looked around. It was dark and there was no-one around. She managed to gather herself for a moment and asked: “Okay so obviously you’re lying but I want to know why. Do you like Carn that much or do you hate the chieftain that much?”
The priest gave her a hard stare. “I have never known that man before in my life, and I have nothing against my chieftain’s leadership. Now move aside, girl. A divine command is no laughing matter.”
Auriëlle frowned, but let him through. Though she kept her eyes on him. He was lying, he had to be. Gods didn’t talk to mortals. Gods dumped obelisks on your head, sends shades after you and then gives you magical powers without explaining a single word.
The priest entered the building. A fortunate thing, too, because an angry crowd had gathered near the door, and Carn seemed to be the only thing preventing them from pouring out into the street to give Aurielle a piece of their mind. But as the priest re-entered, unharmed, they fell silent.
“Who will aid this holy warrior on his quest?” the priest asked.
All fell silent, until one voice spoke up. “I will!” said one man, whose armour suggested he was part of the village militia.
“So will I!” a female voice pitched in.
“Me as well!”
“And me!”
“Aye!”
And on the voices went, until at last Carn had a good eight or nine volunteers, not counting himself, Arika, or Aurielle. “Well,” he said, as he turned to Aurielle. “It seems we have our reinforcements.”
“Idiots.” She mumbled under her breath, making sure nobody heard them. Gods didn’t talk, didn’t give visions and certainly didn’t help mortals. It was all ploy to get the chieftain out. Screw it, she couldn’t care less. If others died so she didn’t have to, it would be fine by her. “I’ll find you when the sun’s coming up.” She casually told Carn as she walked away. Maybe she could find another mossy stone to catch some sleep on.
Carn arrives at the village of Evenstar. Aurielle arrives at the same time, having been traveling as a drifter for at least a couple of years now. Carn's arrival draws a crowd, including Aurielle, and he tells her about the bandits. After hearing about the number of guards their cart had, she realizes that whatever it was carrying must be very valuable, and therefore they would have quite a lot to pay her should she help them reclaim the cart.
They go to an inn to discuss the matter further, while the wounded guard from before is sent to the priest to be healed. They talk a bit about what to do about the bandits, with Carn deciding that they need more people, to which Aurielle reluctantly agrees. The topic then turns toward the gods, with Aurielle more or less saying that the gods don't care about them. This pisses the other tavern-goers off, so the bartender decides to evict them.
Just then, the priest from before steps in, and claims to have foreseen Carn's arrival. Apparently Cadien gave him a message in advance about how the village would be endangered by bandits, and Carn would defeat them. Aurielle thinks this is ridiculous, but it does help get some more people on her side.
Alys was sat by a fire, eating a handful of blueberries. The fire had been of her own making; all she had to do was pile some sticks and logs on top of each other, and wave her hand.
Well, there was that one time she accidentally caused a forest fire, but that was four days ago, which was basically forever.
The berries tasted good, and the fire was warm, both of which helped alleviate the fact that she was utterly and helplessly lost. She thought she would have found another village by now, but it turned out that aimlessly wandering far from any roads or landmarks was not the best way to navigate.
She did not know it, but she had in fact been wandering in circles.
Mathius had been wandering for some time as well, often cursing his creator for his very existence. He had been told to go south, so, south he was going, he had no idea what for but, whatever Yamat said, he would do.
The darkness had begun to settle into the woods, it admittingly didn’t bother him, he could see fine without any eyes in the first place, but he felt like he should probably find a place to stop, at least to gather his bearings.
Then, he saw a soft orange glow in the distance, a fire? Who the antiquity was doing all the way out here? He slowly drew himself closer to the sight, making sure to make as little noise as possible. From behind the trees he could see a small child sitting by a fire, now that, was not what he expected.
”Very good Mathius,” a voice suddenly spoke in his head, it was him again ”,you found what i wanted, make sure you don’t lose her, she’s important.”
So he wanted a small child? Not the weirdest thing, but how the hell would he not lose her? He could follow her, but he didn’t have much confidence in his skills. He sighed, he opted to do something probably stupider, he stepped forward.
”Hey, what are you doing all alone in the woods?” That's how people talked right?
The girl jumped, startled at his sudden appearance. As she did, a violent gust of wind shot forth in all directions, reducing her fire to embers and forcing Mathius to stagger. She swivelled in place to face him. “Wh-who are you?”
Mathius did his best to stabilize himself, but still stumbled and had to catch himself on a tree, he held his hand out, trying to calm down the child ”It's alright, i'm Mathius, i'm not here to hurt you, just curious why a child is by themself in these woods.”
She looked away sheepishly. “I…” she had been about to say ‘I’m lost’, but then remembered that she was on her own now. She had to be strong. So instead, she met his gaze and spoke in a defiant tone. “I’m not a child. Why are you by yourself?”
”Cause i'm not a child and can defend myself, you never answered why you’re out here.” He looked both at the child and the former fire, the wind was strange, no wonder Yamat had been interested in her.
She crossed her arms and let out a stubborn ‘hmph.’ “I don’t have to. You’re not the boss of me.”
Mathius could feel a presence again, his creator didn’t seem to be happy with how this was going, that's when his perception was directed to a faint presence on the girl, divinity, so that's why. ”Listen, i'm not here to hurt you in anyway, i'm here to help, i was,” he paused, a slight headache told him to not tell the direct truth ”I was sent by the gods to help you out.”
Another ‘hmph’, and she somehow crossed her arms even tighter, this time looking away. “Well I don’t need help. I’m okay just by myself. My father was friends with Cadien and taught me everything I need to know.” Her words were filled with considerably less resolve, however, and it was clear to anyone that this was just an act.
Mathius didn’t recognize the name, but he was getting there, ”Was he now? Just so happens Cadien has been worried about you, so he got the gods to send some help, and well, here i am” he held his hands out in as non-threatening a manner as he could, gesturing to himself which, was admittingly not a lot.
Just then, a voice spoke in Mathius’s mind. I don’t take kindly to those who spread lies about me, Cadien said icily, So mayhaps choose your words a bit more carefully?
Mathius froze, ah, so, that was Cadien, huh, fuck. He looked at the girl, ”Well, it's more like we’re doing it, as a gift to Cadien, make sure his prodiges aren’t, in too much danger.” He could feel Yamat in the back of his mind, the madman was getting intrigued, he had to get the child or else problems would come.
The girl looked back at him, and sized him up. A long silence followed, until at last she spoke. “My name is Alys,” she told him. “If you want to help me, then… alright. But I’m in charge, and if you try to hurt me I’ll burn you.”
He nodded, lowering his hands ”Sounds perfectly fine to me,” He drew closer, looking at the campfire ”Any idea where you’re heading?”
“Um… that way,” she said, pointing in a random direction.
”Do you...have any idea what's in that direction?”
Her eyes widened. “Y-yes!” she insisted nervously.
Mathius sighed ”If i may offer some advice, perhaps it’d be better to head this direction,” he gestured off, towards the direction of Ketrefa ”That should lead us to actual civilization.”
“I-I’m in charge! We’re going my way!”
Mathius just stared at the child, before emitting a long sigh and whispering ”Gods save me.” He looked off in the direction the child had chosen, yup, about what he expected, wilderness. ”I would highly advise my direction...but, you’re in charge.” He could feel a chuckling in his mind, damn his creator.
The girl nodded, pleased at his concession… and then immediately began marching off in her chosen direction, despite the fact that night would fall soon.
”Uh, night is about fall, shouldn’t you, rest?” She ignored him and carried on. Mathius sighed once more, he was going to tear his creator a new one for this.
Not even ten minutes later, she suddenly came to a stop. “I’m tired,” she said, beginning to rub her eyes. “We should stop here.”
Mathius stopped, he was going to kill someone by the end of this, preferably himself. ”Alright, i’ll keep watch then, you get some rest.” he hoped the child would listen to some common sense.
She shook her head. “No. We need a fire.”
”You seemed to be able to make it before.”
The girl let out a frustrated sigh. “No! The fire needs… we need a pile! Away from any grass or trees, so that it won’t spread!” Another sigh. “This is why I am in charge.”
Mathius merely raised his hand, snapping his fingers, a sudden snap of branches echoed through the woods, portions of the trees above them fell onto the ground, and some squirrels and birds, but hey, they were fine, he thought. ”There’s a pile”
Alys looked at the fallen branches with a pleased expression. She quickly knelt and arranged them into a stack. Then, she stepped back, and waved her hand.
A nearby bush set fire.
“Oops.”
Alys is in the woods hopelessly lost, setting for herself a campsite with only minor casualties to the forest. Meanwhile after years of traveling, Mathius finally finds himself in the southern highlands, coming upon Alys, who Yamat tells him to make sure doesn’t come out of his sight. Chaos ensues as Mathius tries to talk to Alys and get her to trust a completely random person, after some aid from Yamat, some lies, and some beratting from Cadien himself, Alys finally accepts Mathius’ help, so long as she’s in charge. Mathius decides to accept but regrets it after Alys chooses to go further into the woods, and stops shortly afterward. A great friendship has begun.
In the earliest days of humanity, trolls were not the only foes the humans faced.
There was another threat. This one far to the north. They had once been humans themselves, but had been changed. Corrupted. They became monsters.
They became Iskrill.
The Iskrill ravaged their former kin who had not been changed. Moving as a ferocious tide, they tore entire villages and tribes apart. When they ran out of victims, they began to migrate southward, intent on slaughtering all that they could find. Resistance seemed impossible, and many chose to flee before this onslaught.
But a few chose to stand and fight.
One such tribe was the Skonos Tribe. Instead of fleeing the danger, their warriors advanced toward it. They took position on a hill, constructing barricades and fortifications. The Iskrill had not expected such a unified defense, and came at them in bits and pieces. For four days, ach attempt was driven back.
But eventually, the Iskrill learned. Their warbands joined together, intending to use the weight of their numbers to overwhelm the hill’s defenders. On the fifth day, their first unified attempt failed, but they inflicted such grievous casualties upon the defenders that they would surely succeed the next day.
Then Simain Flameweaver arrived.
Wielding unmatched magical might, she appeared just as the Iskrill began their advance. She bathed the disorganized horde in fire, and made the ground too muddy for them to find their footing. Once again, the Iskrill were driven back, and with their chieftain mortally wounded, the Skonos chose to make their saviour their new leader. With Simain’s magic reinforcing their defenses, they prepared for the next attack.
But this time, they did not stand alone.
Cadien himself had taken notice. The prayers of his followers as they were consumed for food or driven from their homes had not gone unnoticed. So as the fleeing tribes prayed for salvation, he answered. Rather than offer them the relief or the salvation they sought, he berated them for their cowardice. If they would not fight for their homes, if they would chose to flee while others stood and fight, then why were they worthy of his blessing? Why were they even worthy of their own lives?
And so, the master of mankind had convinced his stray and scattered children to turn back, and gave them directions on where to meet their foe.
So it was that on the seventh day, as the Iskrill were in the midst of another attack, the Skonos Tribe was finally reinforced. Hundreds of men and women arrived on the battlefield, striking the Iskrill host in the flank. The arrival of help gave the exhausted defenders new resolve. Together, the Iskrill army was pushed back, taking heavy losses and once more scattering into disarray.
But they did not stop there. The Iskrill were not just a threat. They were a blight. A stain. An insult. They had to be eradicated, until none remained. So Cadien urged his followers to carry onward, to continue running toward the danger instead of away from it. The Tribes forged an alliance, and under Simain’s leadership, they embarked on a crusade northward.
Now it was humanity that was united, and the Iskrill that were in disarray. The abominations were steadily driven back, and although the crusaders took heavy casualties, their numbers continued to swell as more and more answered the call to flock to their banner. The Iskrill were pushed all the way back to the sea, only for a host of Merelli to emerge from the ocean and attack them in the rear. After linking up, the combined wrath of the Merelli and the Humans drove the abominations eastward.
The Iskrill had been driven back, and the Eastern Highlands were saved.
The crusaders rejoiced. But Simain was no fool. She knew that as long as the Iskrill existed elsewhere, there was still a chance that they might return. So she founded a kingdom. Both the human tribes that followed her and the Merelli who aided her settled down on the land, which was named ‘Acadia.’
Acadia was meant to be an ever-vigilant shield to the rest of Highlands, by keeping the northern front secure. Both the human tribes that followed her and the Merelli who aided her were integrated into this new society.
To this end, they threw themselves wholeheartedly into the worship of Cadien, striving for perfection and efficiency of all else. They created a caste system, with the warrior, mage, and priests being at the top, while the labourers and farmers were at the bottom. Those who were born with noticeable defects or disabilities were cast out, as caring for them was seen as a waste of resources. It was strict, rigid, and perhaps even harsh, but those who disliked it were kept in line either through religious zeal or knowledge that infighting would leave them vulnerable to mankind’s ancient foes.
And indeed, those foes still remained. From the west across the river, and the east in the Aberrant, the Iskrill continue to plague Acadia to this day. For while Acadia’s numbers have grown, so have theirs, and both sides have only gotten bolder over the centuries. Some whisper that a new crusade might be in order, lest the Iskrill become too powerful once again. Others say it would be better to remain on the offensive, and continue to serve as an immovable wall.
“Hmm…” Cadien mused as he surveyed the latest developments of the city which bore his name. “I must say, they’ve done quite well for themselves.”
And in fact, they had. Acadia was one of the largest and most powerful of all the Highland cities. They controlled a vast amount of land, possessed a remarkable grasp on magical talent, and their warriors were some of humanity’s finest. There were certain elements of their society that Cadien found distasteful, such as their disposal of infants with defects - even one who is has been disabled can still find other ways to be useful - and their rigid caste system, which could force people into careers they weren’t best suited for. But despite these flaws, there was no denying their commitment to their cause, or their successful fulfillment of it.
And yet, from his wider view, he knew that Acadia was in more danger than its inhabitants realized. No doubt the Iskrill in the Aberrant had replenished their numbers by now. Then there were the Iskrill to the west - they had spread more slowly, but no crusade had been launched against them, so recently they had been able to lay low an entire city. If they found a way to travel across the river en masse, then Acadia would be fighting a war on two fronts.
Then to the south, there were the strange insect creatures which arrived from orbit so long ago. If they joined forces with the hated Iskrill, then Acadia could very well find itself to be surrounded and cut off. To say that the Acadians had grown complacent would be inaccurate, but they simply weren’t prepared to deal with a threat of this magnitude.
Perhaps it was time to lend them further aid…
As the human King and the merelli Queen of Acadia knelt for their morning prayer to the gods, they made the usual requests. For Cadien, they asked him to grant their warriors the strength to vanquish humanity’s foes. To make it so that neither their valour nor arms will falter on the field of battle. And to ensure that the next generation would not be plagued with sickness or defects.
They made the same prayers every day, as countless generations had before them. They had become routine. That was not to say they did not earnestly believe in the gods, but they knew the chance of such prayers actually being granted were slim to non-existent. Nonetheless, they kept at it, out of respect and tradition, if nothing else.
Which is why it came as a colossal surprise that, when they finished their prayer to Cadien, and were just about to move on to their prayers to Evandra, a mysterious voice spoke deep within their minds.
Granted.
The changes Cadien had made were subtle, but would become known in time.
There was a forge on the western end of the city, where spears and swords were crafted. Cadien had imposed a subtle enchantment on that, while the local smith prayed to him that morning. All metal crafted on that forge would be invulnerable to water damage. This would greatly aid the cause of the city’s Merelli warriors, who frequently engaged in amphibious warfare against the Iskrill across the water.
Throughout the rest of the kingdom, Cadien bestowed a series of blessings. In dire situations, their warriors and mages would be less likely to be crippled by fear. The warriors would remain in their physical prime for far longer. And both the warriors’ and the mages’ children were guaranteed to be born healthy.
It was not just the warriors Cadien aided, however, but the people who supported them too. The labourers were made stronger, while the farmers were gifted greater stamina. All of these boons were subtle, but were immensely beneficial in their own way, and would give the kingdom the edge it needed in the years to come.
This post sums up the early history of Acadia, a city in the northeastern Highlands. Basically, shortly after the gods were banished, the Iskrill became super aggressive and started overwhelming human settlements. To combat this threat, Cadien commanded a bunch of human tribes and villages to band together and fight back, which they did under the leadership of a female mage named Simain Flameweaver.
The humans pushed the Iskrill all the way to the sea, where tribes of Merelli arrived to strike them in the rear. Attacked on both sides, the surviving Iskrill fled east into the Aberrant to replenish their numbers. Meanwhile, the victorious humans and merelli built a city: Acadia, both to honour Cadia, and to also serve as a shield against the Iskrill should they ever return. Eventually, the city became a kingdom.
However, while Acadia grew, so too did the Iskrill they had banished. The Iskrill have done much to replenish their numbers. Additionally, the Vespians had landed in the Highlands, and Cadien suspects they may eventually turn their attention toward Acadia.
In order to help Acadia out, he gives them a series of subtle blessings.
Cadien: Beginning DP: 2 Beginning DP: 5 -1MP to consecrate a holy site with the title: “Waterproof Metal I.” The holy site is a forge, and all weapons crafted on it are invulnerable to water damage. +1 toward the Smithing portfolio. -1MP to provide a blessing: all members of Acadia’s warrior and mage castes are more resistant to fear. This does not make them reckless, it simply means that fear is less likely to cloud their judgement so that they may analyze situations more rationally. +1 toward the Valour portfolio. -1DP to provide a blessing: all members of Acadia’s warrior and mage castes are born without defects or sickness. They can still develop ailments later in life, but in the early days of their birth they are in peak health. +1 toward the Endurance portfolio. -1DP to provide a blessing: all members of Acadia’s warrior caste will remain in their physical prime until they reach the age of 40. +1 toward the Strength portfolio. -1DP to provide a blessing: all members of Acadia’s mage class are born with excellent reflexes and hand-eye coordination. +1 toward the Dexterity portfolio. -1DP to provide a blessing: all of Acadia’s labourers possess greater strength, allowing them to lift heavier objects and perform more work. +1 toward the Strength portfolio. -1DP to provide a blessing: all of Acadia’s farmers have greater stamina, and can work for longer periods of time before they tire. +1 toward the Endurance portfolio. Ending MP: 0 Ending DP: 0
Twenty-three years after Antiquity. Night had fallen on the walled town of Korstone. All was quiet. Until…
“TROLL!” a man screamed, running toward the town with all haste. “TROLLLLLLLL!” he reached the gate and began banging his bare fists upon it, even as splinters embedded themselves into his fingers. “OPEN THE GATE!”
Save for the banging of knuckles against woods, all was silent. Then at last, a guard’s voice spoke up from the other side. “How big is it?”
“FUCKING MASSIVE! LET ME IN!”
The gate swung open. The man backed away so the doors could swing past him, and then as soon as there was enough space he rushed inside. There were two guards on duty. One guard, an older veteran by the name of Garth, seized the man and slapped him. “Calm yourself!” he barked, as the other guard peered off in the distance. “Where is this troll?”
Just then, the ground began to shake. All three men turned their heads, and the civilian began to blubber incoherently. A massive head appeared over the distant hills, followed by a body, and then a pair of thick legs. The beast was massive, easily more than fifteen meters in height. They had never seen anything like it.
“Fuck…” breathed one of the guards. Garth let go on the man, pulled a horn from his belt, and blew it three times, as the man rushed deeper into the town and resumed his panicked screams.
“What do we do?”
Garth blew his horn three more times for good measure. “You run!” he snapped. “We can’t fight that! Go!” He shoved the guard in the direction of the town square, but continued to blow the horn. The town was already beginning to rouse themselves, but they would not be quick enough. The troll was beginning to pick up speed, and the earth shook more violently with each step.
Again, Garth blew the horn three times. Once that was done, he cast it aside. But he made no move to flee. Instead he drew his sword and rushed toward the colossal beast, with weapon in hand. He could not fight it, but he could distract it.
The troll saw his approach, and tried to slam its foot down to stomp on him. He darted out of the way, but the impact of the troll’s foot smashing the ground just behind him was enough to send him into the air. He lost his grip on his sword and hit the ground face first. He rolled onto his back, and saw the beast raising its foot once again. His eyes widened, and he hastily rolled out of the way.
Though he managed to avoid it, the impact once again sent him into the air, and this time his shoulder bore the brunt of the fall. He yelled out in pain as he felt a bone break. Then he leapt to his feet and instinctively dove forward, once again avoiding another stomp, but he fell into a crater-sized footprint and landed on his already wounded shoulder. He howled in agony, while his vision began to blur. He closed his eyes, and waited for the troll’s final stomp.
It did not come, for the troll had found something else to distract it. A bright light in the air ahead, which stung its eyes.
Nightsbane unsheathed and Angelic wings outstretched, Evette soared into battle. Her golden eyes burned with zeal and her halo shone bright like a beacon. She was clad neck-to-toe in form-fitting hardened leather, with only the back exposed to allow her wings freedom of movement.
She was no longer the scared girl who fled while her village burned, or sat helpless in a cave as a vampire’s prisoner. She had grown, she had trained, she had learned, and she had a singular purpose in mind: to rid the world of abominations and monsters. Tonight, that meant slaying this troll.
As she came closer, the troll’s arm swung out, attempting to swat away what it perceived as a mere annoyance. She swerved out of the way, lashing out with her sword at the same time. The creature let out a pained roar, and a severed finger fell to the earth below, rapidly turning to stone. Her course carried her onward toward the beast’s torso. The troll still reeled from the unexpected loss of its finger, as well as the fact that much of its arm was now turning to stone as well.
She raised her blade high and embedded it in the center of the beast’s chest, her momentum ensuring that she barely needed to thrust. Then, she allowed herself to fall, the blade sliding through the troll’s chest as gravity did all the work.
Eventually she reached the creature’s mid-section, and there was no more flesh for her blade to bite into, so she began to fall freely, and rapidly beat her wings to slow her plummet. Above her, the troll let out another roar, as the wide gaping cut down its chest glew and burned with the power of the sun.
The flesh around the wound rapidly turned to stone, which then began to spread throughout the rest of its body. It thrashed and flailed, beating at its chest in the hope that would somehow stop it. As its organs hardened to rock, it suddenly stiffened. Then, it began to fall sideways, its stone arm and much of its torso shattering. What fleshy portions still remained continue to petrify, until at last, the once-great beast was nothing more than a broken statue.
Evette landed on the ground feet first. The impact sent a painful jolt up her body, but she was otherwise fine. She watched the creature fall and allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Then she turned back to see that the village guard had finally assembled outside the gate, staring at the scene in awe.
She approached them. One quickly knelt. A few more soon followed. Several guards went down after that, but they were more reluctant. A handful remained standing, still stunned by her casual slaying of the troll.
She couldn’t help but feel gratified by the display. Praise was not why she had done it, but nonetheless, it felt good, and for a few moments she simply allowed herself to bask in their reverence. Then, finally, she spoke. “I require food and shelter. It is late, and I have been travelling long. I know it may not be the custom for you to open your gates past this time, but may I request an exception?”
The humble request caught the guards by surprise. Once her words set in, they hastily rose to their feet, and moved aside to allow her access.
A Dovregubbe tries to attack a village. A lone guard by the name of Garth runs out in an attempt to distract it long enough for the villagers to flee. Just as the troll is about to kill him, Evette appears and slays it with Nightsbane. She then requests access to the village, which is granted.
Twenty-one Years After Antiquity… For a thirteen year-old boy, life on his own had been hard.
After his murder of the chieftain, the village of Morganstead had named him an outlaw. Stories began to spread of the white-haired purple-eyed boy who murdered a chieftain that had already given him a warm welcome, along with the village hospitality. No such welcome or hospitality had actually been given, but tales tended to become distorted after passing both distance and time.
Before going into a village, he had often had to stain his hair with mud in order to avoid being recognized. Even then, the villagers did not know him, and he had no goods to trade with, so he was often required to steal in order to take what he wanted. Originally he possessed dreams of sneaking into the city of Ketrefa and somehow rescuing Brundt, but those dreams soon became forgotten. His own survival was more a pressing issue; and infiltrating a village or stealing food already posed a considerable challenge as it was.
Even after he had travelled far enough south where he no longer risked being recognized, life only became marginally easier. Most took one look at his unscarred and uncalloused skin and assumed he was unfit for manual labour, and some villages or tribes rejected him outright simply because he was an outsider. He still had to steal to survive.
Eventually, however, he was able to get his hands on a sword. It was a cheap thing, made out of copper - the sort of thing a guardsman from Thyma would carry as a sidearm to their spear - but it was serviceable enough, and he already knew how to use it. At the age of fifteen he entered a new line of work; one that wasn’t particularly more lucrative, but it held some semblance of legitimacy, so he no longer had to rely solely on thievery.
He became a mercenary; acting as hired muscle for merchants. Sometimes this simply meant protecting shipments on the road, while in other cases he would be dispatched to “settle” a debt or property dispute.
He disliked the work. The merchants carried themselves with an air of superiority, believing that their wealth and the fact that they didn’t have to perform back-breaking manual labour somehow made them superior to the rest. Many held no qualms in demonstrating these beliefs, and there were times when Carn wanted nothing more to spit in their face and walk away.
But he needed the money.
So, he worked. He played the part of the thug, the toady, the muscle, the brute. He played the part of the silent bodyguard, observing his various employers as they plied their own trade. He learned much about negotiating and the value of various goods. And if negotiations ever broke down, he would naturally be required to defend his employer - further honing his swordsmanship in the process. He had slain thieves, brigands, and sometimes even other mercenaries who merely had the misfortune of working for someone his own employer was in a feud with.
He was nineteen years old now. Standing at six and a half feet in height, he towered over most Highlanders. His muscled physique and the fierce look in his eye made it easy for prospective employers to recognize his talent, despite his age. His handsome face remained unscarred and unblemished, for his regenerative abilities had never left him. He had upgraded beyond the cheap copper sword he found years ago, and now carried a longer bronze blade. He was no longer clad in the rags of an urchin and instead wore hard leather. Bolstering his arsenal was a round wooden shield, which was battered but still sturdy enough to serve its purpose.
His latest employer was a rather interesting one. In the southwestern Highlands there was a great mountain, and in this mountain was a large amount of gold which happened to be exceedingly rare elsewhere. Unsurprisingly, a number of communities had sprung up with the intent of extracting this valuable resource. Unfortunately, the Highlands were divided by a river, and so these ores had to be ferried across on barges and boats.
Naturally, additional communities had been built on the other side of the river, meant to receive these vessels and provide housing for the merchants and crew. There, these merchants sold the valuable ores to other merchants, who then brought them to more distant regions of the Highlands in the hopes of selling them for a greater profit. It was a merchant of the latter group that Carn was currently escorting.
He had been between employers when he first caught the merchant’s attention, wandering through the market in search of food. “You there!” a voice had called out to him.
Carn turned to see a round-bellied merchant in clean clothes and a green travelling coat. He stood near a cart, which other men were loading goods into. Carn decided to approach. “What is it?” he asked.
“I’ve heard of you,” the merchant said. “Or at least, I think I have. Not many people have that colour of hair. Corn, was it? I’m Ruvar.”
“Carn.”
“Right. Carn. My mistake. Anyway, I’m taking these goods up to Ketrefa, and I could use another guard. I heard you’re reliable, so I’ll pay you well - in Ketrefan coin. Are you interested?”
Carn had frowned at the mention of Ketrefa. He had seen the city’s walls before, but he had never gone inside. He hated to think of the place, for he could only imagine that Brundt was in there somewhere, forced to toil in some mine or to work some field. If he survived at all, of course. He heard slaves were often executed for even the most minor offenses, and even if they weren’t killed outright, then the beatings and the hard labour could result in their deaths anyway. He wanted nothing more than to see that wretched city in ash, but such a task was beyond his power.
Then he pushed his hatred aside, and considered the offer further. The fact was, he needed the pay. He was between jobs, and Ketrefan coins were exceptionally valuable.
Instead of a barter system, the Ketrefans had strange silver discs which could serve as a substitute for goods. Instead of exchanging one good for another, a man could simply hand over a fistful of silver and purchase what he pleased. The other great cities had such a system as well, but in the countryside most settlements lacked the resources or the means to produce similar currencies. And yet, these coins were still valuable even outside of their cities, for they were often made of rare metals, and they were always of use to someone who sought to trade with the more ‘civilized’ regions of the Highlands.
“I’m in,” he finally said, though some part of him felt like he would regret it.
“Excellent!” the merchant said, clapping his hands together. “Now would you help load the cart?”
The cart was drawn by two quillats. The gold was kept in crates, in the form of raw ore, metal bars, and trinkets. There were a number of other handcrafted items as well, made from different materials. Lastly, there were also food and provisions; meant to serve as the group’s rations.
Unfortunately, there was not enough space for Carn and the five other guards. So while Ruvar sat up front directing the quillats, Carn and his comrades had to follow on foot, with three on either side. Their only job was to appear vigilant, keep an eye out for potential attackers, and occasionally help with the wagon if it ever got stuck on the uneven dirt road.
It turned out that three of the guards worked for Ruvar regularly, and a fourth was a freelancer by the name of Roan, who worked for Ruvar multiple times in the past. Meanwhile, Carn and the sixth guard - a woman by the name of Arika - had been hired at the last minute to make up their numbers. Apparently Ruvar had invested heavily in this, and was thus determined to see this shipment protected. Unsurprisingly, the four regular guards were slow to trust the two outsiders, but Ruvar himself remained jovial.
Carn found himself liking Ruvar. Unlike many others of wealth and status, Ruvar didn’t view his underlings as furniture. He actively conversed with them on the journey, encouraged them when their energy was flagging, and allowed breaks when necessary. Small gestures like that went far.
In the meantime, Carn stayed close to Arika. She was a few years older than him, with black hair, tanned skin, and brown eyes. The woman carried a bronze-tipped spear, and was armoured in a mixture of padded cloth and leather. She was more open to conversation than the four other guards, and more relatable than Ruvar, so her company was preferable.
“I’ve never seen hair like that,” Arika commented on the second day of their journey.
“I’m surprised it took you this long to mention it,” Carn replied.
“How did you do it? Is it magic? Some sort of dye? Must have cost you a fortune…”
“I was born with it,” Carn answered.
“Where are you from, then?”
“East,” he said dismissively. “But you’ll find no white-haired folk if you went that way. My father and my sisters were the only ones I’ve ever known to have hair like mine.”
“And where are they now?” Arika asked, curious.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” Carn told her.
“Right… sorry,” Arika said. Most who took up the life of a wandering mercenary typically had no connections, which usually meant they either had no family, or were on poor terms with them. She should have known better than to ask such a question. Minutes passed, before she decided to try again. “You have quite the reputation, you know.”
“I am aware,” Carn nodded, relieved that the conversation was moving on. “I suppose we’ll be swapping stories, then?”
“If you’re willing to share,” she smirked. “Your name and face may be more known than mine, but I’ve been at this longer than you have. I bet you’ll run out of stories before I do.”
“I think you’re right,” Carn conceded, before he offered her a smirk of his own. “Mine are more interesting, though.”
“Maybe,” Arika said with a nod. “I hear no injury will stop you. That you can’t be killed. How’d you get a reputation like that?”
“By not getting killed,” Carn smiled wryly.
Ruvar chuckled, having overheard the conversation, but soon refocused his attention on the road. He squinted. “Hm… looks like a tree is blocking the road,” he observed.
Carn looked ahead, and indeed, there was a tree blocking the road. His gaze followed the trunk, all the way to the stump. His eyes widened. The stump was smooth rather than jagged.
“Stop!” he shouted.
Ruvar complied, tugging the reins to pull the quillats to a halt. “What do you see?” he asked.
Carn pointed ahead. “That tree did not fall. It was cut.”
Ruvar’s eyes widened at the implication. “By the Five…” he whispered. “Weapons out!” Swords were unsheathed and spears were readied, as Carn, Arika, and three other guards stepped forward to form a line in front of the wagon. Five in total.
Ruvar let out a shout, and Carn looked back to see Rorn seize him by the neck and haul him out of the cart, sending him falling to the ground. The traitorous guard then gave the quillat a sharp kick in the rear, causing it to panic and pull the cart forward… directly toward Carn and the others. They scattered, with Carn and Arika diving to one side, and the other three to the other.
In the meantime, Roan hauled Ruvar to his feet and put a knife to his throat. Meanwhile, the cart carried on forward, toward the road block, until a flurry of arrows were loosed from the woods and slew the panicking beasts that dragged it along.
“Don’t move,” Roan threatened, knife still at his employer’s throat, as thirteen bowmen emerged from the woods and began to approach. “Drop your weapons.”
“You bastard,” one of the guards growled, but did not dare approach.
“Drop your weapons,” Roan repeated, pointing the dagger at the man who spoke. “Or you will all-”
The moment the dagger came away from his throat, Ruvar’s hand seized the wrist that held it, while his left hand reached down to his belt to pull out a knife of his own. The merchant was both stronger and quicker than he appeared, and with deceptively quick reflexes he thrust his knife backward into Roan’s gut. “Get back!” he shouted as Roan crumpled to the ground.
The bandits let loose their arrows. Two of the guards fell to fatal wounds, while another caught an arrow in the shoulder. Carn, Arika, Ruvar, and the wounded guard ran for the treeline, taking shelter behind trees and rocks.
“Stupid fool,” Arika snapped to the merchant. “They might have let us live if you hadn’t done that!” Ruvar winced at her words, suddenly regretting his attempt at heroism.
“That bastard,” the wounded guard repeated, spitting on the ground. “He set us up.”
“Can you still run and fight?” Carn asked the wounded man.
The guard reached for the arrow on his shoulder, and pulled it free with a cry of pain. He offered Carn a pained nod.
“What now?” Arika asked.
“We run,” Carn decided.
Ruvar opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and nodded instead. “You’re right. It’ll ruin me... but enough people have died already.”
“On three,” Carn said, and began counting before anyone could object. “One… two… three!”
And then the four leapt into action, rising to their feet and dashing deeper into the woods. Arrows flew, but none found their mark, as the four ducked under branches and weaved between trees.
Thankfully the bandits did not seem interested in pursuing. The goods had been abandoned, and their defenders were unlikely to return. So as Carn and the rest made their escape, the brigands helped themselves to the plunder.
We found out what Carn has been up to ever since he stabbed that chieftain. He became a thief on the run, before eventually taking up mercenary work once he was old enough. Turns out he was quite good at it.
Anyway, fast forward to 21 AA (After Antiquity), and Carn decides to take a new job: escorting a merchant by the name of Ruvar to Ketrefa. It’s an exceptionally valuable haul, so the merchant wanted some extra protection. He meets a woman named Arika who he builds up a decent rapport with.
The caravan then gets ambushed, and one of the guards betrays them, attempting to take Ruvar hostage. Ruvar kills the traitor in a surprising display of badassery, but two guards are lost to the bandits’ arrows, while a third is wounded. Carn, Ruvar, Arika, and the wounded guard then flee into the woods.
Carn Beginning Prestige: 9 +5 for 10k characters -10 to acquire the title “Bladesman I.” Carn is remarkably skilled with a blade, capable of taking on several opponents with ease. Ending Prestige: 4
After exiting Evandra’s realm, Cadien decided to continue seeking out those he had met before the Separation. He had met Gibbou, Artifex, and Evandra already, so that really just left Neiya and Sirius. He didn’t really care for Sirius all that much, so the choice was obvious. The only question was… where was she?
He began walking from portal to portal, briefly looking through each one to see if he could sense any familiar presences on the other side.
Such efforts soon proved to be unnecessary. As he finished inspecting the fifth portal in a row, he turned away just in time to see the familiar figure of a horned goddess disappear through a portal on the other end of Antiquity. There was no doubting who that was, and so the God of Perfection leapt across the arena, and landed gracefully before the entrance. He took only a moment to dust himself off and fix up his hair, and then he stepped through the gateway.
Cadien found himself immediately enveloped by a bleak and desolate landscape. Rolling plains of pale grass and grey dirt, withered trees dotting the landscape in isolated clusters. The only sign of life was the sizable river that cut straight through the ground, and seemed to vanish into the distance, an endless stream. That, and the Goddess of Love, who hovered languidly in the air above the river, arms outstretched as though she was floating on the water below.
His entrance seemed to be enough to stir her attention, disrupting whatever strange meditation he found her undertaking, and the pale goddess spun slowly in the air to face the new arrival. Her eyes, briefly overtaken by a storm of blue, slowly dulled back to their usual tranquility. ”Cadien.” her voice rang out across the realm, spoken with a gentle grace but still echoing endlessly in the endless landscape.
Cadien surveyed the realm with a raised eyebrow. At first he thought something had gone wrong with it, but this was her realm, and if she had just as much power over her realm as he had over his own, then she had chosen for her realm to look like this. The scenery was certainly dreary, and definitely not to his taste, but he decided that didn’t make it flawed. This realm was not built with an outsider’s comfort in mind, so if an outsider like him was discomforted by it, then he supposed it achieved the intended result.
Besides, the sight of the one he had come to meet easily made up for the bleak surroundings. “Neiya,” he replied, a smile returning to his face. “I am happy to see you again.”
”Happy,” she repeated with a thoughtful, distant tone, watching the God of Perfection from afar. Slowly she drifted towards the edge of her river, lifting her chin as her feet lowered to slowly touch the ground, naked toes settling on the dirt. “I was looking for you, out there. I heard you. But our kin are-...” she paused to exhale deeply. “Obnoxious. Some, at least.”
Neiya lifted her hand towards Cadien where he stood on the far side of the small plains separating them, her fingers rippling to a gentle closed fist. ”I wanted to see you. And here you are.” The ethereal energies contained within the goddess’ realm worked to follow her motion, a gust of wind pushing against his back urging Cadien to either let it carry him towards her, or at the very least close the distance.
Not one to let himself be carried, Cadien strode forward to approach her. “Apologies for not meeting you sooner,” he said as he walked. “I would have visited you first, had I known where your portal was. I never did have a chance to take you up on that invitation.”
The goddess awaited his arrival with a regal lift of her chin, offering a frown of either real or feigned displeasure. Neiya lifted her hand to glance briefly at her nails, the power carrying her voice vanishing as he approached. ”Think nothing of it. From the sounds of it, you had your hands full with the Mother of the Moon,” she offered with a resigned sigh. As her gaze lifted to glance at Cadien, it was expectant, indignant even.
“Gibbou?” Cadien asked as he furrowed his brow. “Why yes, I have met her a few times. She helped figure out a way to let us gods reconnect with Galbar. And later she wanted help with one of her creations. Is something wrong?”
Neiya released a long sigh, briefly lifting from the ground to let the air carry her just a little closer to Cadien. Her hand extended slowly, fingers drifting out to gingerly touch his shoulder and torso as she touched down once more. ”I just don’t want you to let her trickery get to you,” she replied with a sadness to her voice, before raising her chin to meet Cadien’s gaze. ”But let us not talk about her now, when time has kept us apart for so long.” Her other hand drifted up to lay gently on his other shoulder. ”I was alone for so long, Cadien. I almost lost myself, living through the eyes of mortals.”
The last vestiges of Cadien’s smile faded, replaced by a sad look of his own. “I know what that’s like,” he said sympathetically. Then he reached his arms around her waist and slowly pulled her in for an embrace. “But we’re not alone anymore, are we?”
Neiya’s arms in turn climbed around his shoulders, her frown thinning and mellowing out slowly. ”No, though I doubt I can convince you to linger with me here forever,” the horned goddess replied with a tinge of her resigned disappointment, though there was no malice to her words. ”That is the nature of peace, though. Fleeting, and sweet. If we are ever to find such a moment, we cannot get lost in the maelstrom around us.”
“That offer is more tempting than you think,” Cadien said to her, offering a thin smile. “I may not be able to remain here forever, but I will visit again, if you allow it. Besides, I have a realm of my own, and you’re more than welcome to see me there.”
Her eyes tracked his face with a tranquil curiosity, and though she did not smile she left little silence in following with a question. ”Is your realm anything like mine? I have only seen one other realm in full and it was-... a sea of colours. Intangible. Beautiful but unreachable.” An arm left Cadien’s shoulder to gracefully sweep out over her ashen plains and sullen trees, with only the soft sound of the river running to break the monotony.
Cadien shook his head. “My realm is quite different,” he told her. “If you wish, we can go there now, and you can see it for yourself.”
There was a short pause, as Neiya watched first her own realm and then gazed back at Cadien in thought. Eventually, the goddess proclaimed with a calm, but demanding tone. ”I wish it.”
“Then let’s make it so,” he let go of her and took a step back. “I never tried opening a portal between my realm and another god’s. Only from my realm to Galbar. But I suppose now would be a good time to try. With your permission?”
Neiya watched Cadien with a transfixed gaze, only looking away to once more study her nails when he asked her permission. ”You have it.” she offered with a quick retort.
Cadien closed his eyes, and pointed an arm at the ground. Then, in one fluid motion, he brought his hand back up. Up from the ground, a door rose, made of the same wood as the various trees within Neiya’s realm. The only contrast was a golden doorknob, studded with an amethyst. Cadien reached for the knob, turned it, and then pulled the door open. Beyond it was another realm. “After you.”
The pale goddess watched the door and what little she could see of the realm beyond, that curiosity seeming to overpower any languid attempts at remaining overtly mindful of her grace. Instead, Neiya lifted from the ground at his words, and gently hovered forwards to drift through the door with held breath, ice-blue eyes wandering to take in all she could of this new place.
She found herself hovering in a large room, with black stone walls lined with golden candles and more doors. On one end of the room, to her left, was a large marble throne with soft purple cushions. On the other end was an opening which led into a hallway. In the center was an ornate mahogany dining table, and above that a golden chandelier.
Cadien stepped through the door behind her. “What do you think?”
The initial breath of surprise said more than the goddess herself would for a long time, as she spun slowly in the air in Cadien’s own demesne, gaze drifting over each new sight with intent and purpose. Lost in the magic of sighting new things, she hovered over towards the grand throne dominating the room with its mere presence, and extended her hand to touch every material at least once. Not long after, she drifted towards the golden chandelier in the ceiling, and gave it a tentative push with a ginger set of fingers. Finally, pleased with her initial exploration, she twirled back towards Cadien slowly and exhaled sharply before offering a question almost reminiscent of her first questions on the planet below. ”You created all this? How did you think of it all?”
Cadien had watched her exploration with a grin, but it quickly faded when she asked how he thought to make it. “I had time,” he said. “I built my realm up and tore it down again maybe a thousand times, trying to find the perfect design, and all of those were vastly different from what you see now. Eventually I went with the one I liked most. This one.”
Brushing past Cadien’s own reflection on the effort, Neiya glanced over to a previously unseen feature of the grand estate as she replied with a simple but breathless ”It was worth it,” before slowly drifting down to a level more conducive to carry a conversation, and refocusing her attention on Cadien properly. ”Is it all like this? Is there more?”
Cadien’s smile returned. “There is,” he said, offering her a hand. “If you would follow me. And don’t be afraid to walk; the floor is quite comfortable.”
The horned goddess extended her own hand to gently take his, appearing hesitant for a few moments before she lowered further to the ground, her feet setting against the floor of the realm’s estate. That alone seemed to be a new sensation, and she glanced down as she momentarily found herself lost in dragging a foot over the carpeting in a measure of confusion and amazement. When that lost its initial novelty, she looked back to Cadien with a growing guilt on her features. ”Please. Lead the way, Cadien.”
So, he did. He led her to the other end of the room, and into the hallway, which had a marble statue of nearly every single one of Galbar’s sapient species. One of each gender, crafted in their most ideal physical form. The Merelli were among them, situated between the humans and the goblins.
Neiya watched each statue in turn, tugging on the precarious hold they shared to approach the statues and take in the masterly depiction. She paused by the first Merelli statue they ended up by, free hand stretching out to touch the stonework gently. The goddess sighed softly, caught up in distant memories that seemed to lessen the toll her internal worries had on her features, and for a few moments her frown evaporated. ”I fear they have forgotten me. I was… too caught up in my suffering. I never stopped to meet our own creation.”
“They haven’t forgotten you,” Cadien assured her. “I heard some of their prayers over the years, and your name was often invoked alongside mine. When it wasn’t, I corrected them.”
”You did?” she intoned rapidly, turning to look at her host and guide. ”You truly are who I remember, Cadien.” the goddess continued, and laid her free hand against his arm briefly instead. ”I’m sorry I could not say the same about myself.”
“The Separation was hard on us all,” Cadien told her. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
She nodded in turn, breathing a slow sigh and tapping his chest briefly before looking back up at the statue. ”Perhaps I will do something for them, to show them that I haven’t forgotten them, either.” Neiya eventually voiced with a serene tone. Her head tilted, and she turned back her focus to Cadien. ”This divine essence, did you send part of yourself down there?”
“I did,” Cadien confirmed. “As we speak, he’s living among some mortals in the Highlands.”
”Didn’t it hurt?” the goddess questioned quickly. ”I’m not certain I could part with… such a fragment.”
“No. It was a small sting, but nothing more. I barely notice it’s gone, most of the time.” He looked away for a moment, then back to her. “But to be truthful, I don’t blame you. In hindsight, it was a reckless act. I was just desperate enough to regain some sort of presence on Galbar that I was willing to overlook any potential risk.”
”But if I’m with you, your fragment could accomplish things for me some time as well, perhaps?” The Love Goddess continued guardedly, sighing softly as she glanced between Cadien and the majestic statuary. ”We could do things together, as before.”
Cadien considered her offer; first with a guarded look on his own, but then his expression softened. “Together? That sounds… nice,” he said softly, before clearing his throat and resuming his normal voice. “Yes, I do believe I will consider it. In the meantime, perhaps we should get on with the tour?” The goddess acquiesced to his suggestion with a simple nod, and slung her arm around his gently.
They continued down the hall, through the large double doors at the end, and out onto a smooth stone path which led through a grassy courtyard, enclosed by a black stone wall. Two stone fountains were placed in the center, and the yard itself was edged by colourful flower beds.
Cadien did not stop, however, and instead led her down the path, past the two fountains, and toward the gatehouse. As they passed the threshold, Neiya would realize that the castle they had just exited was actually positioned on what appeared to be a floating cloud in a clear blue sky. A set of stairs continued downward, and the stone path resumed, carrying on to the realm’s exit portal.
Then Cadien snapped his fingers, and suddenly the realm changed. Instead of a cloud, it was now an island, and instead of an empty void, the island was now surrounded by an ocean. Already the waves began to lap at the newly-created beach. “I thought this would be more to your liking,” he explained.
The goddess has by all accounts seemed to enjoy the walk up until this point, gaze straying in idle examination of all that they passed, but now there was no mistaking it. The appearance of an ocean seemed to catch her entirely off-guard, and Neiya released a sharp gasp. For just a moment, a small smile spread out over her features, as the peaceful waves intoxicated and struck deep into her core. That brief warmth faded into a mellow serenity, and the goddess gently leaned in to lay her weight on Cadien’s side, twisting her head to lay her head against his shoulder. ”You truly are the God of Perfection.” she voiced quietly, lingering in her quiet daze.
“And you’re the Goddess of Love,” Cadien whispered. “Would you object if I kissed you?”
Neiya lounged in silence for a time, before slowly untangling her arms from Cadien’s. The goddess did not move away however, and instead shuffled slowly to stand before him, gently pressing against each other. Eyes meeting his, eternally sorrowful even now, she responded with a simple and soft ”No.”
With permission given, Cadien stepped forward, once more wrapped his arms around her waist, and gently pressed his lips against hers. The goddess’ icy eyes closed slowly, and her hands gently ran up to rest against his shoulders. Caught at last, she responded in kind.
The kiss lasted for several long moments, before eventually Cadien pulled away, but kept his arms around her. “Shall we go back inside?” he asked suggestively.
Neiya hummed a soft agreement, beginning to move before he did.
Cadien goes looking for Neiya, and sees her enter her realm. He decides to follow her. He goes through the portal, and the two enjoy a reunion. They talk a bit about recent events, and how they had both been hoping to find each other. Neiya then asks about Cadien’s realm, so he invites her to come visit.
A connection is then created between both their realms, in the form of a doorway which they both go through. Cadien takes Neiya on a tour of his castle, and she loves it. Remembering Neiya’s love for the ocean, Cadien takes her outside and transforms Meliorem from a floating cloud isle into a regular island in the middle of an ocean.
She is touched by this gesture, and then Cadien asks if he can kiss her. She consents, so he does. They both go back inside the castle.
No Might spent. A connection now exists between Cadien and Neiya’s realm.
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