“Is it the Roz'eli?” asked Genovefa, her voice sounding panicky. “Will my Bairre survive?”
“It is not the Roz'eli,” replied the old woman. “But someone much worse and I cannot speak of your husband. It is only your path that I seek.”
The young woman held out her arm without any hesitation. “Show me.”
Honora nodded. “You must not speak of what you see,” she warned. “It may change your future.” Genovefa nodded. “Reach out your arm, Meuric. Though you already dream of this battle perhaps some of the extra information that you seek will reveal itself in this vision.”
Meuric reached out without question and took the prÄost's hand.
VII
Faeder stood in a great room filled with columns of marble that seemed to reach forever into the star filled sky above through the open roof. Between them, statuettes that emulated all known gods and goddesses of the New Gods stood in silent appraisal. All things connected to the Old Gods had been banished under the storyteller's first act as ruler. The power of the gods came from mortal worship and it was his hope that they would someday fade from the memories of man. First he believed that he caused them to vanish from the memories of the New Gods. He should have realised that it would not be so easy.
At the centre of the room sat a throne upon steps of polished stone, similar to those used by the Emperors of the Roz'eli Empire. Like the pillars, it had been carved from marble and layered with gilded gold, decorated on its flanks by a picture of Reume, the goddess and patron of the Roz'eli Empire. Above him, the roofless building revealed the whole of the cosmos to his godly senses and he could see the planets revolve around distant stars that were still invisible to the mortals on Terit're. He could hear the distant pulse of energy beating like a human heartbeat and he understood from this that his great grandfather Junives was already watching.
Nearby, yet at a discreet distance, two servants stood at the ready with drink and food. Both were dressed in pale green togas and sandals of Roz'eli fashion. One bore a platter of fruits and bread, the other a jug of wine with three empty gold goblets. Before him, two female figures made their way hurriedly down a path of purple carpet towards him. It lay over a mosaic floor containing a multitude of colours. As they did so, Faeder stepped up onto the podium of his throne and sat wearily upon his seat of power.
The father of the New Gods looked to each woman in turn. The one on the left, dressed in a plain black toga similar in fashion to that of Roz'eli women, was Fari, daughter of Taim and Goddess of Fate whether it be man or gods. The King grunted at her appearance. Even here, in the Heavens of the Otherworld, the disease that was the Roz'eli Empire infected them. The woman next to her was Wis, daughter of his lineage and Goddess of Wisdom and War Strategy. He smiled at her. To him she was as beautiful as she was wise but he knew that all fathers saw their children as the most beautiful in all the heavens, even if they were gods. He could barely
contain a smirk noting that she wore the same clothing as a Kel'akh warrior woman. The two goddesses stopped short and knelt deep. Faeder looked about, not comfortable with his surroundings.
“Who made this reality?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“I did,” answered Fari pleasantly. “I hope the scene pleases you, my Lord King. As you know the Roz'eli Empire is the next great superpower in the Realm of Mortals.”
Faeder grunted and with a wave of his hand, the scene instantly changed. Gone were the marble columns and the mosaic floor. Now a rough wooden picket fence marked the border of the immense room. Lit torches aligned the walls at regular intervals. Straw littered the floor. Above, a conical roof of mud and wood blocked out the night sky. It was so high that the apex of it was lost in shadow. In the centre of the room, separating the newcomers and their sovereign was a small pit of blue flames surrounded by rough-cut stones that gave no heat. An ornately carved wooden chair of Kel'akh design now acted as the throne chair. The two servants were now dressed in Kel'akh garb. He looked at the two goddesses. Fari looked, as ever, impassive though her eyes flashed with slight annoyance. Wis had a slight smile upon her thin lips.
“Rise and speak,” commanded their King.
It was Fari who began. In a hurried voice she said, “Malitia is gone.” Her dark eyes glimmered angrily. “She has fled to the Realm of Mortals though we do not know where or when exactly she went.”
Faeder frowned. Malitia could have disappeared at any time. It was not unheard of for gods and goddesses not to be seen for an age. That would be something else he would need to take care of.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. He watched as the Goddess of Fate offered a barely perceptible nod. Her lips were tight with worry. “Do we know of her reasons?”
“To destroy The Balance and bring back the Old Gods,” offered Fari. “It can be the only reason. We know she still favours the old ways and relishes any chance to bring them back. Already things have begun to change.”
“She is the daughter of Melevelens,” put in Wis. “Her very nature could destroy both our realms if left unchecked.”
“And yet Melevelens keeps her nature curbed,” retorted the Goddess of Fate. “Why not simply lock Malitia away to protect us all?”
“The Balance,” responded Wis, as if that was the most obvious answer in any world.
Faeder nodded and stood. He looked to Fari. “Leave us.” He waited until the goddess had bowed and vanished in a wisp of smoke before he spoke again. “I would hear your thoughts, daughter.”
“Fari was disappointed with your changing our surrounding, father,” said Wis. “She feels that the Roz'eli Empire is more worthy of a king than a barbarian horde.”
Faeder smiled at his daughter. “And have you dressed in the manner of a Kel'akh woman in the hope that I will listen to you more closely, counsellor?”
“I know how you love the Kel'akh people and traditions,” responded a grinning Wis. She looked to her father seriously. “There is a real danger to us here.”
Faeder nodded. “Do you have any idea how she plans to do this?”
“I have a theory but there is more that I must tell you first,” offered the Goddess of Wisdom. “A male child, blessed of Kazmas, has been born in the land the Roz'eli has renamed as Jay'keb. For reasons yet unknown already a local warlord by the name of Haran has begun to hunt for him. With the child being born and Malitia disappearing you have to consider that it is all too much of a coincidence. My feeling is that she will either use the child or kill him.”
“What can he do?” asked Faeder. His brows furrowed deep.
“He brings the end to magick and equality to all,” answered Wis. “Or at least that is what Fari told me. Frankly I am surprised that she even told me that much. Usually she is so secretive, so as to not disrupt the lines of fate.”
“Maybe she fears the child too,” suggested Faeder. “The end of magick could very well mean the end of us all.” He considered this for a moment then added, “Perhaps the child is going to be used as a weapon against us⦠the New Gods. With our demise man might once again look to the Old Gods. Their path to a return of power will be clearly open to them. Maybe we should just kill the child?”
“Father!” exclaimed Wis. “The Balance must be maintained even if it means the end of us which it will not. Our power comes through the belief of man. As long as they believe we will always exist in one form or another.”
“And when they stop believing?” asked Faeder.
Wis ignored the question. “What we must do right now is send someone in our stead. We cannot physically interfere until we know for sure that Malitia has. But at the same time if she realises that one of us has entered the Realm of Mortals it might inflame the situation.”
Faeder nodded, stood and began to pace. “You are of course correct, Wis. Gods we may be but the varying faiths of men bind us in such a way that to go against our very nature may very well destroy us quicker than Junives.” He stopped walking and looked sharply to goddess realising that he had just said too much.
Wis looked at him, stunned. “Tell me again of Junives.”
Faeder sat upon his throne and sighed. “When I was down in the Realm of Mortals I looked at what the future held for some of them. What I could see was Junives looking back and the further into the future I looked the larger he had grown, consuming the cosmos as he went. He will be the end of everything.”
Wis forced a smile. “Then we must ensure that does not happen. There is still more, father. A shadow has fallen across the whole of Jay'keb. It is one that I cannot penetrate. I fear that there is nothing sufficiently powerful to pierce the Veil. Not even you. It is a shroud that we have not seen in near one hundred mortal years.”
“Since the attack on Isle Gla'es,” said Faeder immediately.
Wis nodded, a little surprised. “It has the same signature as before. It is my assumption that it has been created to blind us and perhaps also to stop the Council of Eight from rescuing the child.”
“How could a mortal, with so much power, possibly remain hidden from us for so long?” pondered the King of the Gods. “Or is it an apprentice of the original person of magick? A mortal could not possibly live so long naturally.”
“I cannot answer that,” responded Wis. “But to have a person with such power in Jay'keb, and Malitia missing, with both happening at the time of the child's birth, I have to ask the questions: are they together or opponents, and what is it that they want from the child?”
“Not simply to kill it?” asked Faeder.
Wis shook her head. “Maybe for Malitia but why would the mage block the whole of the land from our view? Would it not be easier just to send in assassins? No⦠this person of magick has a purpose for the boy.
“I have an idea, father. The Bridge Maker has told me of a mortal by the name of Meuric. He is a former member of the Conclave's Protectorate but he has turned his back on them. I will visit him and send him on a mission to save the child in case the Council is under observation. That will buy us some time at least to plan our next move against Malitia and the man of magick.”
“Meuric of Daw'ra?” asked Faeder, more than a little astonished.
Wis nodded. “The Bridge Maker has spoken of him to me on several occasions. From all accounts he is still a good man, a person of righteousness. The Council of Eight has used him a number of times but he knows not of that.” Seeing her father's face she asked, “You know of him?”
“I have just met him,” answered Faeder in a measured tone. Did Fari know of the meeting? His mind was trying to comprehend whether it meant anything that he should be there when that particular mortal was. “He is a man of power. I saw a vision of him at the end of everything leading the armies of man against the Old Gods with Junives looking on. I feel the tugging of many strands there, daughter.”
Wis bowed respectfully. “I will leave immediately for Meuric.”
“No, not you,” put in Faeder quickly. “We must stay away until we know sure what Malitia's plans are. Does Ladra still reside with Deo?”
“As far as I am aware, father,” answered Wis, a little reluctantly.
Faeder could feel her uncertainty of where he was heading with this. Ladra was distrusted by many of the gods. He was a mortal man with godlike abilities from beyond their universe. Faeder had to admit he liked him though.
“How typical it is of a mortal who cannot die to find solace with the God of Death. We have need of someone who can travel to the Underworld without hindrance to retrieve him.” Faeder allowed his power to radiate out. He could see Wis falter slightly under its strength as if it were a physical object. “Mittere, Messenger for the Gods, I have need of you.”
It took only a short moment for Mittere to appear. He was dressed in a pale blue chiton of the E'del people, with two short swords sheathed at his waist. Sandals covered his feet. Brushing back his blonde fringe from his eyes, he bowed low, his great white wings stretching out from his back to either side until they touched the floor. “I give you greetings, father. What do you wish of me?”
“You must travel to the Underworld and tell my brother that I have need of Ladra. Send him to Wis.”
Mittere glanced at Wis tentatively before nodding. “It shall be as you wish, father.”
Faeder watched as the Messenger for the Gods stood and pushed himself up into the air, his great wings flapping hard as he picked up speed. Straw and dirt billowed high into the air. He could see the servants in the background bowing under the concussive force. He watched his son fly until Mittere vanished into the darkness of the roof above. His majestic white wings were the last colour to be swallowed up by the gloom. Mortals would say that Mittere could travel at the speed of thought. One day, considered Faeder, he would have to test that theory. He turned to Wis.
“We will send Ladra to the Realm of Mortals and recruit Meuric,” he explained to his daughter. “Being mortal himself he should be able to remain unseen by Malitia or any of the other gods who may be aligning themselves with her. At least until we have gathered further intelligence. If all she is doing is influencing, as we are only allowed to do, then we will instruct Ladra to do the same. If she is involved in more direct action⦔ Faeder looked bleak. “Then we had best prepare for war.”
Wis said nothing but she could not remove the grim countenance from her face. She bowed and was about to turn away when Faeder asked, “Is there any more information on the whereabouts of the Kosmos Stones?”
Faeder could see his daughter hesitate. “Not just yet, my Lord King, but I will keep searching. Since they can only be controlled by a mortal, and they do not know that they exist, I think that we do not have much to worry about.”
“Ever the optimist, my beautiful girl,” laughed the father of the New Gods. “The power of the gods held by a mortal⦠What could possibly go wrong?”
Faeder grew serious and looked at his daughter as if studying her for the first time. Did she possess the gems already, he forced himself to ask and not for the first time. Was she bidding her time, gaining allies and influence? Wis was not only renowned for her strength in tactics and strategy but in the Realm of Mortals she was popularly worshipped, which only added to her power. Like his own father's revolt against his grandfather and the Elder Gods, Faeder himself had only come to the throne after overthrowing his own father and imprisoning him and so, on some level, he always expected his own children to attempt a coup themselves.