Fate of the Gods

by Matthew J. Kirby

Grace stopped walking. “You think we should’ve stayed with him?”

  “I don’t know. I think that was something he had to do. Or something he thought he had to do. He wasn’t going to leave, I know that, and I’m not sure he wanted us there.”

  “So what should we do now? We could stop and wait for him, I guess.”

  “We could.” Natalya looked forward down the Path, and she glimpsed a small boulder directly ahead. “Let’s keep going for now. I want to see what’s up there.”

  Grace nodded, and they resumed their slow walk through a countryside of white rock ledges and green turf. The landscape felt both old and new at the same time, like a deep layer of earth that had only recently risen to the surface. The Path remained very much the same as it had been, and the wind smelled faintly of sage.

  As they got closer to the stone, which turned out to be about the size and shape of a pig, Natalya saw that it sat by a crossroads where a dirt trail intersected their Path. Carvings covered the stone with geometric shapes, spirals, and figures of men and extinct animals. This was the Crossroads the Wanderer had mentioned, where Owen could find a new owner for the Dog.

  “Maybe we should wait here,” Grace said.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Natalya said, and they sat down on the boulder back-to-back.

  Even though this part of the simulation felt more open than the Forest had, it had its own kind of boundary. The endless rolling hills closed them in and kept the horizon from view. It still felt to Natalya that if she left the Path she could get lost here, maybe forever, just on a larger scale.

  But in another way, this simulation didn’t bother her like the others had. Here she was herself, and she could make her choices. She wasn’t trapped by the past and what her ancestors had done. She didn’t have to shoot anyone with a bow or fight anyone. She was glad to be here instead of the Viking memories.

  “How is David doing?” she asked Grace.

  “He had a hard time synchronizing, but he’s got it now.”

  “Is that why you came in here?”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to sit around doing nothing,” she said. “After I read—” She stopped and looked away.

  Natalya wondered what she had just left unsaid, and she was about to ask when Grace pointed down the road.

  “Is that Owen?”

  Natalya looked, and it was. He trudged along the Path with the Dog trotting next to him.

  “Looks like he’s brought man’s best friend with him,” Grace said.

  “I’d rather have that Dog as a friend than an enemy,” Natalya said.

  She got up from the stone and walked a few steps toward Owen to wait for him on the Path. As he got closer, she noticed his shirt was torn at his shoulder, but she saw no blood, and he didn’t seem to be injured. He smiled at them.

  “You okay?” she called.

  He nodded. “I’m good.” Then he pointed behind Natalya. “You guys found the Crossroads.”

  “We did,” Grace said, rising from the stone.

  Owen reached them, and the Dog stepped forward, wagging her tail, looking back and forth between Natalya and Grace. She was panting a little, with her tongue hanging out, and except for her size, she seemed like any other dog. But her size was enough to keep Natalya uncomfortable.

  “You got her to come with you,” Grace said.

  “Yeah.” Owen looked over at her. “I had to trick her into saving my life, but she came. Thanks for waiting for us, by the way.”

  “Saving your life?” Natalya asked.

  “It’s a long story,” he said. “Between me and her.”

  “So what happens with her now?” Grace said.

  Owen looked in each of the Crossroads’ four directions and then he shrugged. “I guess we wait here for someone to come along?”

  Grace sighed and took her seat back on the stone.

  “You guys can go on if you want,” Owen said. “Really.”

  “No,” Natalya said. “We’ll wait. I think this is a part of what we’re supposed to do.”

  “It is,” Owen said. “I realized this is the devotion part of the Path.”

  That made sense to Natalya. She took a seat on the stone next to Grace, and Owen sat down on the grass next to them. The Dog lay down on the warm red stones of the Path and went to sleep; while they waited, the three of them talked. Not about the simulation, or about the Trident, or about the Templars and Assassins. They talked about stuff that was unimportant, but still mattered, like the shows they liked to watch, and the music they hated, and stupid things they’d seen online. They talked about home, and their pets, and what they had been doing before all this started. But then at once they all fell silent.

  Owen pulled up a handful of grass and threw it into the breeze. “It seems kind of ridiculous to think about going back to regular life, doesn’t it?”

  Grace nodded. “Yes, it does.”

  “But I hope we can,” Natalya said. “I’ll take my ridiculous, regular life any day.”

  “Sure,” Grace said. “But regular life for some people is—”

  “There’s someone coming,” Owen said, rising to his feet.

  Natalya turned. A figure approached them, following the dirt trail as it rose and fell with the swells of grass and land. The three of them said nothing as they waited, all previous conversation lost. The stranger appeared tall and broad, and more details took shape with each of his steps. Unlike the Wanderer, he wore wool and woven fabrics studded with beads and shells, but like the Wanderer, he had dark bronze skin. His black hair and beard were long, but trimmed and clean and free of gray. He walked with a spear tipped with black iron, and when he reached them his eyes went straight to the Dog.

  “That is a fine creature,” he said without any greeting, his firm voice an imposing wall that kept others back. “Is she yours?”

  Natalya wasn’t sure what to think of this man, any more than she had known what to think of the Wanderer. Did these archetypes represent people? Actual people who had lived? Or were they ideas of people, just symbols in the same way the Serpent had been a symbol?

  “She is mine,” Owen said.

  The stranger nodded. “I would have use for a Dog like that.”

  “Use?” Owen asked, stepping between the stranger and the Dog.

  “Yes, of course,” the stranger said. “To watch my tower. It stands on the other side of that hill. No one would dare steal my gold or my silver with that Dog standing guard. I assure you, she will be treated well. I’ll feed her the finest meat from my table, and I’ll give her a bed of clean straw.”

  Owen studied the man for several moments. Then he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Perhaps you misunderstand me,” the stranger said. “I will buy her from you. I will pay you handsomely—”

  “No,” Owen said. “She’s not for sale.”

  The stranger scowled, and Natalya noted his spear again as he stared hard at the Dog. It almost seemed that he was thinking about taking her by force, but Natalya hoped he wasn’t that stupid. Who would try to steal a Dog big enough to think of the thief as dinner? In the end, he lifted his glare from the Dog to Owen, and then he went on his way down the trail, presumably toward his tower, without saying another word.

  “What happens now?” Grace asked after he was gone.

  Owen sat down next to the Dog, and she rolled over to show him her belly, which he gave a rub. “We keep waiting,” he said.

  So that’s what they did, talking very little now. Natalya wasn’t sure how long they waited, because the time of day didn’t seem to change here. They might have even sat there for hours, but the sun stayed where it was overhead, just a bit off center. An afternoon sun. But eventually, another stranger did approach, this time coming from the direction the previous man had left. As this new traveler drew near, Natalya saw that he was a short, round man with a balding head, wearing woolen clothes, and walking with one of those shepherd’s staffs that had a crook at the end of it.


  “Greetings!” he called, smiling, his voice creaking with the softness of an old leather coat. “It is a fine day to be on the Path, is it not?”

  “Yeah,” Owen said. “A fine day.”

  Natalya already liked this man more than the last, but it was Owen who had to like him enough to give him the Dog as a companion.

  “But it’s always a fine day on the Path, isn’t it?” the man said as he came to a halt near them. Then he leaned on his staff, and he puffed air out of his red cheeks. “What are you three doing here at the Crossroads?”

  “Waiting,” Owen said.

  “Waiting?” the man asked. “What for?”

  “Just waiting,” Owen said.

  “Nonsense. We’re always waiting for something.” He looked at Natalya with strange blue-and-gold eyes. “Perhaps you have all been waiting for me, and I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Why would we be waiting for you?” Grace asked.

  “I wouldn’t know,” he said. “You haven’t told me.”

  “That’s because we’re not waiting for you,” Owen said.

  “And yet there you are, and here I am.” The stranger then looked down at the Dog, and his eyes opened wide, as if he hadn’t noticed her until that moment. “What a magnificent animal,” he said. “A breathtaking piece of creation.” He looked up. “Does she belong to one of you?”

  Owen nodded. “She is mine.”

  “That is wonderful.” The man gave Owen a tight-lipped, knowing smile, as if Owen had done something he should be very proud of. “Wonderful, indeed.” He looked down at the Dog again, and his smile loosened. “How very fortunate you are. I am not so fortunate, for I am in need of a dog.”

  “Need?” Owen said.

  Natalya thought that was an improvement on having a “use” for the Dog.

  “I need a dog to guard my herds and my flocks,” the man said. “There are dangers at the borders of my pastures, and I can’t protect my animals every moment of every day.”

  “What dangers?” Grace asked.

  “Great dangers,” the man said. “Unspeakable dangers.”

  “So you need a guard dog?” Owen said.

  “Yes,” the man said. “But not only a guard dog. There are times when a lamb or a calf goes missing. They might get frightened by a storm, or they might fall into a ravine. I need a dog to herd them. To keep them together and safe.” He looked down. “A dog such as this.”

  Owen scratched his chin without taking his eyes off the man, and seemed to be giving this offer more thought than he’d given the first, which surprised Natalya. If they were looking for someone to take the place of the Wanderer, a shepherd and a rich guy were both the wrong choice. Neither life would be like the one the Dog had known.

  But Owen turned to Natalya and Grace and asked, “What do you guys think?”

  Not only had Natalya thought this was Owen’s thing to decide, the decision seemed fairly obvious.

  “I don’t think this is the guy we’re waiting for,” Grace said.

  “But what about my herds?” the man asked. “My flocks are in danger. Why are you taking away the very thing they need for their safety?”

  “He’s not taking anything away,” Grace said. “To take something away from you, it has to be yours to begin with.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed at Grace for a moment, and with a tsk he turned toward Owen. “My need is true and just. I believe you surely see that.”

  “Maybe I do,” Owen said. “But I’m still not giving you my Dog.”

  “I see.” The man turned away from them, shaking his head. He took a few steps, and then he looked back. “I do hope you will not be punished for this choice.”

  “Punished how?” Grace asked.

  “When the Path brings you misfortune, you will know.” Then he continued walking and was soon lost over the rise of a hill.

  Grace snorted. “I’m pretty sure this Path is guaranteed to bring misfortune at some point, but it won’t be because of that guy.”

  Owen sat down next to the Dog, and she inched closer to him and placed her huge head in his lap, just as she had done with the Wanderer. Owen scratched behind her ears, and then he looked at the rip in his shirt. “I think you guys better make the decision the next time, though.”

  “Why?” Grace asked.

  “I don’t think I can choose.” He stroked the top of the Dog’s head, and she closed her eyes. “I don’t want her to go to anyone, really. But she has to. I know we’re supposed to find her a new companion.”

  If the Dog had really saved Owen’s life, at least inside the simulation, Natalya could understand why he would find it hard to part with her. But Natalya had also come to believe he was right. This was something they were supposed to do. An objective in the collective unconscious.

  “Sure,” she said. “We can decide.”

  Grace agreed, and they both sat down near Owen in the grass while the Dog slept, and more time passed without any way to mark it. Natalya found herself growing drowsy in the endless afternoon as she listened to the slow and easy breathing of the Dog.

  “This feels like …” Natalya tried to find the words. “I don’t know. Like we’re in a story. A folktale or something.”

  “Maybe we kind of are,” Owen said.

  When a third figure appeared in the distance, Natalya almost didn’t notice, but Grace did, and then Natalya stood up too fast. She shook her head to clear the rush and focused on the newcomer, who she could already tell was a woman.

  The stranger strode with slow purpose on the Path ahead of them, and the narrow foot of her plain walking staff echoed against the stones. She was young, of the same dark complexion as the other travelers they had met, with curly bronze hair pulled back into several braids. She wore leather clothing, and as she walked, her gaze roamed the land and the sky.

  “Hello!” Natalya called to her.

  “Hello,” the woman said. But she stopped short of them, near the stone, and she walked around it. She seemed to be studying the carvings that covered its surface, perhaps reading them, and Natalya wondered if the rock was some kind of signpost.

  “Are you lost?” Natalya asked.

  The woman paused as though she had to think about the meaning of the word. “No. I’m where I want to be. Why do you ask?”

  “I saw you looking at the rock, and I just thought …” But Natalya didn’t know how to finish that sentence.

  The woman looked at the stone again, appearing confused. Then she asked Natalya, “Are you lost?”

  Next to Owen, the Dog had woken up and taken note of the new stranger, her ears perked forward as she sniffed the air.

  “We know where we are,” Natalya said. “But we don’t know where we’re going.”

  “If that’s what it means to be lost,” the woman said, “then I think we all are.”

  “Where are you traveling?” Owen asked.

  “Where?” The woman frowned, as if once again she didn’t understand the question. “I’m just walking the Path.”

  “So you’re wandering,” Grace said, eyeing Owen, and Natalya knew in that moment they were all thinking the same thing.

  “Yes, wandering,” the woman said. “That’s a fair word for it, I suppose.”

  That was when Owen finally got to his feet, the Dog at his side, as if he meant to say something. But he didn’t, and several silent moments went by. The woman’s gaze traveled from the three of them to the Path beyond the Crossroads, and she seemed ready to move on. But she hadn’t even asked about the Dog, and it seemed as though Owen was just going to let her walk away.

  “We, uh—we met a Wanderer, like you,” Natalya said. “This Dog was his.”

  The woman regarded the Dog then and smiled. “She’s beautiful.”

  And that was all she said.

  Owen just nodded.

  “Have you ever traveled with a dog?” Grace asked.

  The woman shook her head. “No. I don’t have a use for a dog. Or a need for one.”


  Natalya had no idea where to go from that.

  “I’ll be moving along now,” the woman said.

  But she couldn’t leave yet. Not without the Dog, unless Owen planned to bring her with them for the rest of the simulation. He might actually want that, but Natalya still believed they had to do this before they could move on. She just didn’t know how.

  The stranger walked between Natalya and Grace, bowing her head, and then passed very close to the Dog, who looked up and wagged her tail for the woman.

  She smiled at the Dog, and then said, “Safe journey to you—”

  “Wait,” Owen said.

  The woman turned toward him.

  “Do you—do you want my Dog?”

  The woman craned her neck toward Owen. “Do I want her?”

  “I can’t keep her,” he said, and cleared his throat. “She was really only mine until I could find a companion for her. And you’re the only person we’ve met who I think should have her. She belongs with you.”

  The woman stood there for a moment, frowning, and it definitely seemed as if she wanted to say no. But then her frown relaxed, and she took a step toward the Dog with her hand outstretched, braver than Natalya had been. She first let the Dog smell her fist, and then her fingers and palm, and then she scratched the Dog’s fur under her chin. That’s when the Dog sat down and leaned against her with a contented sigh, thumping her tail, and the woman raised an eyebrow.

  “She really is beautiful,” the stranger said.

  “Will you have her?” Owen asked. “I want to give her to you.”

  The woman paused, and then replied, “Yes. I think I want to have her with me.”

  Owen let out a very long sigh. “Thank you.”

  Natalya believed that to be the right decision, and the right end to this story they had just played out. But it meant that Owen now had to say good-bye.

  He did so by digging his fingers into her scruff, and scratching behind her ears. The Dog seemed to be smiling at him, and she licked his face until it was time for her to leave with the new Wanderer, who had already started down the Path.

  “Come!” she called.

  The Dog glanced at her, and then looked at Owen.

  “Go on,” he said. “It’s okay.”