A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands - Book 2: Chapter 27: The Will of the Goddess
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- A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands
- Book 2: Chapter 27: The Will of the Goddess
In the long, long ago, there was only darkness and the void. No light from Sahel, nor from his brothers and sisters. There was only nothing and the once-eternal great silence. Out of the lonely silence grew a single drop of water. This drop grew into a stream, then into the River. Thus, Time was born. Now there was Water, Darkness, and the binding thread that was the River of Time. These elements grew together, ever intertwining, until one day there was Air, the Laughter on the Wind.
– The Birth of the Gesthe, by an unknown author.
The shock took me in a sudden squall of emotion. Surprise, anger, vitriol, and dread flooded through me, as memories once suppressed rose to the fore. This close, even covered by mud and dirt, the familiar beauty of the terrifying goddess from long ago shone through it all.
Before me was the vision of the goddess, clad in mortal flesh, and I was taken aback by her terrifying countenance. The divine avatar of Avaria, her armor fashioned from fine, delicate plate, now stained with the blood of her enemies. Yet even in this state, her form was visible through the blacksmith’s artistry, the subtle curves and contours of the steel skin accentuating a fierce femininity.
Memories of the past and present superimposed, twisted, and intertwined together, adding to my confusion and stopping my breath. The sibilant voices, now familiar friends, rejected the reality before me. The voices shrieked a denial in my mind. Together, as a dark choir, they told me that this was not truly the Goddess. This was merely an opportunity to be exploited.
Mental exhaustion fell heavily on my shoulders, as I struggled to silence the internal cacophony.
“Herald, please forgive the sinners their willful ignorance. They have met judgment and paid for their sins with their meager lives,” said the shadow of the goddess, the one the armored men had called Cordelia.
At a loss for words, I waited for her to continue, “I humbly offer my name, Cordelia de Aserac, Knight of the Order of the Penitent Heart. All my life, I have waited to be graced with your coming. The goddess came to me in a dream, and told me of you when I was but a girl… I have…” she paused, a storm of emotions leaving her bereft of control for a moment, her face red with embarrassment.
“Forgive me, oh lord, take my life for my impertinence. I am not worthy!” she wailed, in the throes of religious ecstasy. Her face was flush with desire as she clutched at the hem of my dirtied robe.
The initial shock had now left me, and nonplussed as I was, I could see that this was not Avaria. The hair, of a shorter cut and color, the voice that did not command reverence, the aura of humility, and the lack of agelessness around her eyes informed my mind of the stark truth. Before me was a woman who possessed divine beauty, but was mortal, nonetheless.
Eyes glinting with revenge, the men from the caravan, and even some of the women, had started going around and ruthlessly finishing any of our attackers who remained in this world. Unsurprisingly, I heard quite a few of their number mention Larynda with tones of awe, the devastation of the child’s spell clear for all to see. A few of them paused from their grisly work and formed behind me, their presence a comfort and support. In their eyes, I could see that hesitation had found fertile soil, and that they looked unsteady and unsure. Some fingered their weapons or postured threateningly, but I doubted they looked forward to having to kill a woman.
“Relieve her of her weapons and let us bring her to the caravan master. I would have his opinion on the matter,” I commanded in what I hoped was a stern voice.
“I have seen your light, and I know of your truth! Many times has the Goddess graced me with visions of you. This is her will! I know it to be so. This is how it should be. All I wish is to serve as your sword against night! How may I show you the depth of my faith?! My belief in you?” the woman wailed, her beauty twisted by sudden sorrow.
With a swiftness that startled us all, she lunged at me, brandishing a long knife and catching me completely off-guard. The guards swiftly unsheathed their weapons, their actions producing a metallic rasp in response. We found ourselves encircled by the glint of sharp steel. She seized my hands with an animalistic strength, fuelled by her fervor, pulling them towards her. For a moment I thought she had come to end my life or to take me hostage, but what followed shocked everyone.
Desperate tears were tracking a path down her face and she placed the point of the dagger, a poniard, at her own throat.
“If you do not believe me, then this life, this existence, has no meaning. I give myself to you, as is the will of the Goddess,” she proclaimed, her gaze locked on mine. She pressed the dagger’s point to her throat, drawing a single droplet of crimson blood. In that moment, the panicked cries of the guards faded into nothingness. The rest of the world ceased to exist. The space seemed to be occupied only by her, me, and the resounding truth of her declaration.
Was this a chance to get another NPC companion? I mentally rubbed my hands in glee. True, she had been a part of the attacking force, initially, but she had quickly changed her allegiance once she had seen my Holy Aura. On the other hand, this could be another of Avaria’s foul schemes… I would have to be careful. She seemed like she was a fanatic, and fanatics, in my opinion, always had a screw loose, but then again she did not look half-bad… at the very least I could be getting a magic item.
Some of the guards moved cautiously behind her. Even with the blade still at her throat, she swiveled around to face them, drawing me unwillingly with her. She shot them a deathly glare, eyes heavy with lethal warning, causing them all to visibly stiffen. The air grew tense. Seeking to avoid further conflict, I tried to defuse the situation, “If you truly believe me to be your lord, you will surrender your arms to these men, for the moment at least. I will see them returned to you later… once I have discussed the situation with the master of this caravan.” I hoped that my delivery did not betray the sense of unease that I felt.
“It will be as you command,” the woman warrior half-whispered in a voice full of awe and revelation, shivering at being given a direct command. She withdrew the dagger from her own throat, releasing my hands, and sheathed the long knife at her waist.
She was meek and unresisting now, and the guards were able to remove her weapons. They took the sword from her back scabbard, which was an ingenious thing, made from dark leather that opened three-quarters down its length at the side. This, no doubt, allowed the weapon within to be drawn and carried with ease even when sheathed at the back. A feat that would have been impossible with a normal scabbard. What was more incredible was the double-edged sword itself. It was just under a meter-and-a-half in length, with a cruciform hilt inscribed with a delicate gold runic pattern. The weapon’s blade was fullered two-thirds down its length and tapered to a deadly tip. The metal of the blade was like that of fine watered steel.
The caravan guards gave nods and longing sighs of appreciation at the weapon that was so perfectly matched to its bearer. So intrigued was I, that I decided to cast an Identify on the blade with the last dregs of my Mana.
Longsword ‘Weight of Justice’ Mace-Flail
Durability 999/999
Truly incredible! The first magic weapon I had seen in this game and within reach… I was almost salivating, thinking about getting my hands on such an elegant and deadly weapon.
The guards also relieved of her simple no-nonsense poniard, which drew a much less dramatic reaction. It was a relatively long dagger, about half-a-meter from pommel to deadly pointed pit with a bronze crossguard. An efficient tool for punching through the weak points in an armored opponent.
Plans were drawn, and lines of argument were made in my mind as we made our way to find Laes. He was there, in the center of it all, shouting orders at the top of his lungs and miraculously creating some measure of order from the chaos. The injured were gently loaded onto the wagons, their moans of pain a reassurance that they yet lived. The bodies of the caravan’s slain were wrapped in purple shrouds and moved respectfully, if not too hurriedly, onto different wagons. The master was shouting out orders, seeing to the logistics of getting a village on wheels to move.
Khalam, the Guard Master, who was flanking me to my right, was a dour man of dark skin and middling height. He was stern in his commands and scowled often, when not deep in his cups. That same scowl was now plastered on his face as he addressed the caravan master.
“We have repelled the attackers, and have cut them down to a man,” Khalam almost spat, “No doubt they were in search of this one. The nerve of him, to launch the first arrow when we could have negotiated, as we have always done. What have you done, Laes? You endanger us all in this insanity. I have not seen war magic of its like outside the campaigns of my youth. If I had known that we had a Quas-trained mage among us…”
“That is Caravan Master Laes to you, Guard Master Khalam. I want a report, not an opinion on how I run my enterprise. As for who struck first, it could have been one of your men, no? I could see it in that Aigiam fellow’s eyes that they were not here for sport or treasure. They came for blood. But, please, Khalam, continue with your report,” replied Laes, the flash of annoyance in his eyes quickly smothered by his professional countenance.
I saw Khalam bite down a scathing reply, his face red as he finished with his report. “Caravan Master, Abdul is dead, and Catalina took an arrow to the gut. My so… guard Ubaid, will likely never be able to use his sword arm again. Apart from that, we were lucky, as the rest are minor injuries. I never knew we were in the company of great mages. The little one, according to some of my men, unleashed what appeared to be a crystal forest of spears on the enemy, cutting down a great number of them. My newest guard, Gilgamesh here, seems to be one of those goddess-botherers, a High Priest if I am not mistaken, of all things. I saw him myself, fishing his companion from the Shallow River, the big northman, with temple healing,” reported Khalam, his voice steadily growing louder with each sentence.
The names meant almost nothing to me, except for Abdul, if it was the same Abdul, who had been a fellow guard. The only thing I remembered about him was his creepy lazy eye and his wily skill at cards.
“I see… I suspected that Gilgamesh was a man of hidden depths ,and that our little lady was important. She commands a magic that I have never seen before, and so powerful for one so young… I am sure Master Gilgamesh has his reasons for keeping it to himself, and I will not pry. It, however, changes nothing. I will fulfill my promise to Hamsa—a trader’s word is his bond. There will always be death on the trail, Khalam. Their deaths are regrettable, but they knew the risk. Khalam, I have heard that they were, in fact, not cut down to a man. We have a prisoner, do we not?” inquired Laes.
“Yes, one of their Temple knights or paladins. A priestess, if I am not mistaken. We either deal with her or give her a horse and our deepest apologies and beg for forgiveness. There will be no explaining this away, and the goddess of Justice is not kind to those who harm her servants. Gah, Laes, this is a hell’s cursed mess you have gotten us into. I suspect Gilgamesh is one of their High Priests’ get or something. Who am I to know of the intrigue of foreign lands? I am, after all, just a humble Guard Master,” answered Khalam flatly.
“Khalam, to hear you whine and whinge is unsightly. You know of my purpose, when you joined me those long years ago,” replied Laes, sucking in through his teeth, and his brow furrowed in worry as he turned to me, “I know you have your reasons, Honored One, but I have to know, can you save the others of my train?” he entreated, barely able to keep the begging desperation from his voice.
Remembering something Elwin said about Temple healing being valuable… I realized I had a lot of leverage now. It was time to squeeze.
“I make no promises, but I will do what I can. But I have conditions…” I replied, looking him in the eye.
“Of course, anything! Err herm, within reason, of course,” blurted out Laes, his equine face shaded with worry.
“The woman warrior-knight, I want her surrendered to me. She has pledged fealty to me and I would take her on as one of my entourage. I will, of course…” I began, only to be interrupted by Khalam.
“That one is dangerous, Gilgamesh of Uruk. That would be like taming a Zlesh viper,” spat Khalam, his gray eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“You said it yourself, did you not? Avaria is not kind to those who harm her servants. I will, of course, take full responsibility for this Cordelia and keep an eye on her myself,” I added, looking at Khalam before focusing back on Laes, “Her gear. I would have returned to her in its entirety. After all, you would not want to have the Church accusing you of robbery,” I suggested in a reasonable tone.
Laes appeared to be thinking, one hand under his chin before he answered, “This is indeed reasonable, if you swear upon your honor. I will hold you responsible for her good conduct while we are blessed with her company. I am assuming there is more?”
Taking a deep breath, I thought over the current situation before I continued with my requests, “Mana potions for healing those in need now. This little skirmish we had has somewhat drained me considerably of my magical energies. Also, the first choice over the spoils, and an extra silver to the wages of my companions and I.”
The caravan master almost looked relieved at hearing my requests before he clasped me at the elbow, “So it is done, Honored Gilgamesh, in deference to your people’s contributions,” he accepted.
I was genuinely surprised that he had accepted all of my conditions so quickly. It had been my plan to slip in an unreasonable request to increase the chance of the other things being accepted. Perhaps I could have squeezed them for more, but I still needed these people to get me to the city of Al-Lazar. Still, what was done was done and, at the end of the day, I am a reasonable man.