Among the Fallen

by NS Dolkart

  Narky

  It took them almost two months to convert the former Temple of Magor into an acceptable temple of Ravennis. At first they worked alone, but as word spread of their presence, new followers of Ravennis began volunteering their support. Narky and Ptera set them to work destroying all the statues and figurines that had been so prominent in Magor’s temple and painting over the devotional murals with pitch. It didn’t look beautiful by any means, but it would do.

  During their breaks, Narky preached. Phaedra had once read him a scroll by a priest of Ravennis, and he did his best to recall what he had learned from it. He was lucky that the people of Anardis knew even less about Ravennis than he did, because they never complained about his spotty knowledge, and when he didn’t know the answer to one of their questions, he could always invent one. He wasn’t much of a public speaker, but he was quick on his feet, so he would give only the barest of speeches and then spend the rest of the time answering questions.

  The personal quarters of Magor’s temple had had room for four priests to live there at one time, but Narky and Ptera kept it to themselves for now, luxuriating in its space and making prodigious use of the beds. They pushed two of these together to give themselves more room to sleep once their lovemaking was done, and slept more comfortably than Narky had in his life.

  They made love constantly. The excitement of being newly married was mutual and overwhelming, and Ptera’s reactions convinced him that he was getting better at it. He had never felt so confident, so alive.

  He was starting to really like Ptera. She was a schemer like him, even if she wouldn’t admit it, and they shared a similar sense of humor. It was a wonder he hadn’t discovered this back in Ardis, or perhaps it was no wonder at all. He had barely spoken to her at the time, except when she was delivering news. Their similarities hadn’t come up.

  Twice a week, Narky would go to visit the Great Temple of Elkinar and speak with Mother Dinendra. For all that she had forsworn politics, she was a very practical, political sort of leader, and Narky was convinced that her support was the key to converting Ardis. Elkinar had a real and widely-accepted presence there, and as Magor’s power waned, Dinendra’s influence in Ardis was not to be overlooked. What her priests taught, the people would accept.

  The trouble was Dinendra’s second-in-command and likely successor, Father Sephas. Sephas was a true theologian – Phaedra had loved him – and he would not accept the notion of an alliance between their two priesthoods without an airtight theological reason for thinking that Elkinar and Ravennis were really allies. Dinendra liked Narky and enjoyed their meetings, but she agreed with Sephas on this matter, so unless Narky could somehow convince him on a theological level, her support would remain tacit.

  He thought he could manage it, if he just framed it the right way. Elkinar and Eramia were supposed to be siblings, and the islanders had guessed that Eramia and Ravennis must have been working together to fulfill the Dragon Knight’s prophecy and bring about a Judgment of the Gods. It was the Oracle of Ravennis that had told Hunter’s father to send him to the continent, Ravennis who had kept an eye on Narky and marked him with His power. Eramia, in the meantime, had goaded the island’s patron Goddess just as Narky and Hunter, Phaedra, Bandu and Criton were about to leave. As a result, the five of them had escaped the island at the last possible moment, sealing their fates as wanderers of the continent. Without this, the dragon Salemis might never have been rescued, and Magor’s army never destroyed.

  Narky even wondered sometimes whether Eramia had had a direct hand in turning him into the prophesied murderer. The girl he had loved back in his village had been called Eramia too, and it was her lover Narky had killed. How much of a coincidence could that possibly have been?

  The trouble was that Elkinar did not seem to have had a part in any of this, for all that His sister was so deeply involved. But then, perhaps that shouldn’t have surprised anyone. Phaedra had once told Narky and the other islanders about a theory that all the familial relations between Gods were invented by people, just as the Gods’ genders supposedly were. According to this theory, the Gods were all equally related or unrelated, but had been grouped together thematically into ‘families’ because people understood the world better that way. If this was true, there was no real reason to expect Elkinar to be on Eramia’s side.

  It was interesting that Elkinar and Ravennis were not said to be brothers, considering that Narky would have thought Their domains must overlap quite a lot: the God of the Life Cycle and the Lord of the Underworld should have had a lot in common. But then, Narky was no theologian – he was just some poor sap who’d been named high priest by an Oracle who should, of all people, have known better.

  At least he had Ptera to talk to about it, if he ever had the courage to tell her how little he knew. He thought that if he could only speak freely, as he had with his friends, he might talk his way through to something really meaningful. But he didn’t dare reveal the depth of his ignorance – not yet, anyway. For all that she might enjoy him physically, he knew that it was his supposed connection to Ravennis that had attracted her to him in the first place.

  So he stayed silent, and learned nothing, and felt once again like a coward. And all the while people came to him with their gifts and their labor, and looked up to him as if he knew something. What would they do if they ever realized how little he deserved his position?

  Of course, he also felt ridiculous for failing to appreciate their respect, now that he finally had some. He’d left home less than a year and a half ago, and look how far he’d come! In Tarphae he’d been miserable, alone, disrespected, and full of self-doubt. Now here he was: High Priest of Ravennis, happily married, sought out by followers for his wisdom… and still full of self-doubt.

  Was this something immutable about his personality? He should have been confident, considering how well things were going. The new Temple of Ravennis was looking less and less like a painted-over Temple of Magor, and worshippers were beginning to come by not to help convert the building, but to make sacrifices. They made sacrifices when a loved one died, begging the Lord Among the Fallen to watch over their departed family members in kindness, and they made sacrifices when things went well for them, thanking Ravennis as the Keeper of Fates. Narky did his best for them. They weren’t exactly wrong to come to him: no living person knew more about what Ravennis had been up to than Narky did. The trouble was that only he seemed to realize what a tragedy that was.

  For there had been news from Ardis: the Graceful Servant had been publicly executed, as had every other follower of Ravennis that could be found. General Magerion had been given free rein at home while his companions on the council were at war, and he had made his focus the persecution of the Ravennis worshippers. The remarkable thing was that the cult had survived, even in Ardis. He knew this because a trickle of Ardismen kept making the pilgrimage to Anardis and Narky, to give sacrifices and receive guidance on how to proceed. It had happened just as the Graceful Servant had predicted: she had been martyred to their God, and it had only made Him stronger.

  Narky wished he had a good answer for the Ardismen who came to him. His instinct was to tell them to stay away from Ardis, to save themselves and, if possible, their families, and make new lives in this safer city. Ardis was fighting a two-front war against him and Criton’s army, and things were bound to get worse before they got better.

  But he couldn’t say that. It didn’t matter that the cult of Ravennis was growing in Anardis, and that the people here were safe for now: Ardis was the prize his God wanted. The Graceful Servant had ordered him to come back someday soon, to wrest Magor’s city from its doomed God and make His punishment complete. The Ravennis-worshippers left in Ardis were there to pave the way – they could not flee.

  So Narky told them to go back, and to keep converting their friends and neighbors in secret. Yes, many of them would be captured and killed, but Ravennis would watch over them in the underworld, and He would favor all those wh
o had died in His name. He told them to show no fear, no matter what happened. Life was short; Ravennis was eternal.

  His followers loved that. He wished he did too.

  It was wrong of the Graceful Servant, wrong of Ravennis to make Narky His High Priest. Narky was a coward and a coward’s son, a man who would never give his life voluntarily for any cause. Ravennis was forever, yes, but life was now. How could such a man be asked to send people to their deaths, to encourage them to love their deaths? It was too cruel, to them and to Narky too.

  But this was what his God demanded of him, and he could not shirk his duty. He’d had Ravennis angry at him before, and didn’t ever want to put himself in that position again.

  If only the priests of Elkinar had been able to grant their support and not just their neutrality, Narky might have felt that he could send his followers back to Ardis as the vanguard of an army instead of as martyrs. He must try to convince them. It might be hard, but the options didn’t get any easier from there. It was certainly better than the Graceful Servant’s path.

  This time when he and Ptera visited the Temple of Elkinar, Narky did not shy away from theological debate. They were all sitting crowded around the library table, sipping a strong wine that had been donated to the temple, when Narky asked, “Have you wondered why there haven’t been any real fights between the followers of Ravennis and the followers of Elkinar? A new God has come to power here in Anardis, but Elkinar doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “Well,” said Mother Dinendra, “I don’t mind taking a little bit of credit now and then. I’ve practically encouraged Magor’s followers to turn to Ravennis as a secondary God, once it became clear that they would not turn over their whole being to Elkinar. Magor always satisfied people’s needs for a God of power and domination, and Elkinar was never one to fill that role. Our priests are healers and midwives, and our God a sustainer of balance. Let Magor’s place be filled by your God – as long as there is life-sustaining balance, Elkinar can never be threatened. That was my theory, anyway.”

  “Are you saying you think your God has stepped aside to let Ravennis in, just because Elkinar hasn’t historically been the only God of Anardis? Why shouldn’t He try to take more?”

  “Because ‘taking more’ is not Elkinar’s way!” Father Sephas scolded. “He is not some crafty nobleman, always maneuvering for more power. All of life is His domain.”

  Narky snorted. “In one breath you say that He has no interest in power, and then you turn around and say He’s in charge of all of life. If claiming all of life as your domain isn’t maneuvering for power, what is?”

  Mother Dinendra’s countenance hardened. “Have you come today to insult Elkinar in His own temple?”

  That stopped Narky short. Why was he so bad at this? He was trying to build a theological argument for a pre-existing alliance between Ravennis and Elkinar, one that he thought was really good, and his base rudeness was getting in his way. Even Ptera was staring at him, aghast. She hadn’t understood what he was trying to do either – he’d done a truly terrible job of explaining himself.

  His mistake was that in his attempt to point out how welcoming Elkinar had been to them, he hadn’t expected Sephas to push back against the very notion of godly ambition. That had thrown him off, and he’d fallen back on his usual argumentative style. Idiot. If he was going to make this work, he had to control himself.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I haven’t come to insult Elkinar, but to exalt Him for the warm welcome He’s shown to me and my God. I only meant to say that Elkinar didn’t have to be so welcoming, He could have tried to fill Magor’s role by Himself and become the only God of Anardis. Instead, He and His servants have welcomed us into His city and even into His house, this temple. I meant to express my gratitude.”

  “You are young,” Mother Dinendra said indulgently. “Tact is not one of the strengths youth has over age.”

  Narky nodded, relieved. “Thank you. You’re absolutely right.”

  Father Sephas waved a hand. “Go on, then. Let’s start from the point you were trying to make.”

  Narky looked to Ptera for strength and tried to regain his composure. “Well,” he said, “in any case, Elkinar could have made a play for sole patron of Anardis, but He didn’t. You might say that’s because ambition isn’t in His nature, but I think He’s been uniquely welcoming to Ravennis. I can’t imagine that He’d have supported, say, Atun, if the Sun God had tried to capitalize on Magor’s weakness here.”

  “Perhaps not,” Dinendra conceded.

  “I think it’s not a matter of Elkinar lacking for ambition. I think He wants Ravennis here.”

  “You think They are allies,” Father Sephas concluded. “Yes, Narky, we’ve heard this from you before. You even make a very good case for it–”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” Narky said, to his own surprise. “I’m saying They’re the same God.”

  The room went silent. Narky closed his eye and waited. Would Ravennis slay him for saying what he’d just said? Would Elkinar? What had possessed him to say such a thing? He was practically begging the Gods to smite him.

  Nothing happened. Narky opened his eye. They were all staring at him. Of course they were.

  “What?” Ptera asked.

  “I think,” Narky said, and stopped. His hands were shaking. “I think that may have been a prophecy.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Father Taemon.

  No God had smitten him yet. How could he make sense of this?

  “I don’t think those were my words,” he said. “I mean, I said them, but they just came to me as I was saying them, and, well, and They haven’t killed me yet. Is it – is it possible that Ravennis and Elkinar are one and the same?”

  “We’ve had no reason to think so,” said Father Sephas. “Up until now.”

  “But it’s possible.”

  “Anything is possible, if the Gods say it.”

  “No,” Narky said, “I mean, yes, but I think it’s plausible too. When I was with the other islanders, two Gods were clearly guiding us: Ravennis and Eramia. We had no idea why those two should be allies, but Eramia and Elkinar are brother and sister, right? If Ravennis is Elkinar, the alliance makes perfect sense.

  “When my friends and I came here, to Anardis, it was the priests of Elkinar who took us in and sheltered us before Bestillos invaded. And it was Elkinar’s sister Eramia who gave us what we needed to find the Dragons’ Prisoner and rescue him, and to destroy the armies of Magor and Mayar. I think this really is a prophecy. I think Elkinar is the sole God of Anardis; we’ve just been worshipping His two halves.

  “Their domains are perfectly complementary. Keeper of Fates; God of Birth, Life, Death, and Rebirth; God of the Life Cycle; God of the Underworld. They’re the same God.”

  “If what you say is true,” Sephas asked, “how could Magor not have known it? Why should He and Elkinar live in peace even as Magor sent Bestillos to destroy Laarna?”

  “I–” Narky began, but he had no answer, nothing beyond the fact that he had said the two Gods were one, and neither had killed him for it. “I don’t know,” he finished.

  “Thank you, Narky,” Mother Dinendra said, indicating the end of his visit. “You have given us a lot to discuss – it will take much more than an evening, I think, to tease out the various implications of what you have said tonight. It may be too early to assume that neither God has taken offense, but if in a week’s time you still have not been punished, we may have to accept that both Elkinar and Ravennis endorse your statement. Hopefully by then we will have arrived at a good theological explanation.”

  They bowed to their hosts and left, still trying to process what had been said.

  “She’s being too cautious,” Ptera said during their walk home. “Ravennis spoke through you. Anyone could see that.”

  “Not everyone, I guess. And she’s right that I don’t have all the answers. I don’t think it’ll hurt for them to spend a week figuring out what all this me
ans.”

  Ptera’s mouth twisted. “And making sure that Elkinar remains the dominant half here in Anardis.”

  “You think so?” That gave him a lot to think about. Ptera didn’t stumble into her words the way he did – she always thought before she spoke. If she thought that power-hunger played a role in Mother Dinendra’s thinking, she wasn’t just saying so reflexively.

  Ptera gave him a look that expressed just how naïve his question sounded. “She has a priesthood to protect.”

  “You’re probably right,” he said, when they got indoors. “And she’d be wise to make sure of it, really. Who knows if what I said tonight was even true?”

  Ptera stopped dead, one hand already reaching for the door of their bedroom. “Are you telling me you were lying?”

  He shook his head. “Of course not. Ravennis put those words in my mouth – I’m sure of that much. But what if He was lying? For all I know, the two of Them have been separate Gods all along and now He’s trying to swallow Elkinar while He’s got the chance. The Gods can shield us from each other – if this is a surprise attack, Elkinar won’t be able to smite me unless He wins the struggle with Ravennis first.”

  “Narky!” she cried. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

  He smiled. “You’re only just getting to know me, Ptera. This is how I talk.”

  “But you’re accusing your own God of treachery! You’re His high priest, Narky, you can’t go saying–”

  “Do you think I know how this all works?” Narky snapped. “I’m seventeen, Ptera, for the Gods’ sake! I’m not a theologian, and I was nobody’s holy man until the Graceful Servant told me I was going to be high priest. I’m just trying to figure out the truth for myself, and to follow Ravennis’ path wherever He leads me. If He’s been Elkinar all along, great! If He’s trying to usurp and co-opt Him, that’s fine by me too. Ravennis is my God no matter what. But until He gives me clear guidance, I have to make guesses and talk these ideas through so I can figure out what I’m going to do about it. If He has a problem with that, He can send me a clear message for once and tell me what to do!”