by Ron Glick
Yes, comfort was the feeling he felt here in Scollhaven. After so long wandering, alone and despised, he now had every luxury he could possibly want for, surrounded on every side by devoted faithful who would do literally anything for him. This was a life he could well become accustomed to.
Therein lies the danger, he told himself. Avery had wanted to keep a low profile in this village originally, at least for awhile. Scollhaven was well isolated, deep beyond the borders of the Wildelands. He could have ruled here until he was sufficiently secure in his power before reaching outwards to expand upon it. Before he attracted the attention of the Godslayer.
A shudder ran through his body at the thought. Whatever force had killed Malik and the other Old Gods was not likely something easily disposed of itself. It was still out there, somewhere. And if such a force had set itself up to extinguish the power of the Old Gods, Avery had set himself up as their next of kin. It was not likely that the Godslayer, whomever or wherever he should be, could ignore him once it had learned of his presence.
That, of course, could already have happened, Avery realized. The priest had been a servant of Galentine. Surely that God would have noticed that his devoted servant had not reported in for some time, that his tie to the God had been severed. Not for the first time, Avery questioned why he had not simply killed the old man. Instead, he had let the priest scurry away, probably right out of town and on a direct path to the nearest temple.
Furthermore, he wondered what had possessed him to confront the priest at all. Avery's plan had been to avoid attention from the other Gods or anyone else powerful enough to do him harm. Yet at the first opportunity, he had deposed a priest of the New Order, stripped him of his divine abilities, and then permitted the man to flee, likely into the arms of his fellow clergy. Sooner rather than later, Galentine would learn of what Avery had done. And if he remained in Scollhaven, he was far too visible a target.
And none of this took into effect what the Godslayer would do when he learned of what Avery could do, either...
There was a small chance that Avery could use the two against each other, he surmised. If both Galentine and the Godslayer came after him together, perhaps the Godslayer could be distracted by a real God. Unless, of course, the Godslayer was one of the New Order itself...
Avery sat up and put his forehead against the palms of his hands. If only someone could just tell him what to do!
We will have to leave today, Avery thought. No delays. Just pack up and go. Of course, his faithful would be disappointed, but he would give them promises that he would return. And Viola would be with him. He knew she would go with him. She loved him. More than he deserved...
Wait a moment. Avery stopped himself. We?
Avery looked down at the sleeping beauty beside him in the bed. Had he been thinking of Viola when he had thought that? No, he had added Viola as an afterthought. So who was the other that he had been thinking of leaving with?
Suddenly, it all became clear. The sword. One. He had begun thinking of the sword as a companion – as a person – somewhere along the line, not just as a tool. At what point had that happened?
“Mmmmm,” murmured a seductive voice from his side. “G'mornin', m'Lord.”
Avery moved down to slide up against Viola's body. “Good morning, my beauty.”
“Do you have to leave again so soon?” she asked, stretching her body luxuriously against him. “I miss you so when you leave.”
Avery pulled his lover close. “It turns out, I do have to leave. But this time, it is not you that I must leave.”
Viola moved slightly away to allow for her to prop herself upon her elbow. “What are you saying, my Lord?” she pleaded, panic creeping into her voice.
Avery gave his best disarming smile. “My time here in Scollhaven has always been limited. I have other places to be, others to bless with knowledge of my return. As much as I adore your people, my love, I cannot spend eternity here alone with them.”
Viola pouted. “If I have displeased you in some way, made you grow tired of me, but say the wrong deed and I shall amend it! I know I feel jealousy for all the other women you lie with, but I can change. I will never again think poorly of any of them, Lord, I swear to you!”
“Oh, sweet Viola,” cooed Avery. “you have not displeased me in the least. In fact, you are the one thing I would be certain to take with me when I leave, if I took nothing else, for I have not yet begun to tire of you.”
Viola's hand flew to her mouth to cover a tiny shreek. “My Lord, do you mean it? That we will always be together, even after you take leave of here?”
“I cannot imagine continuing my travels without you by my side,” Avery admitted. “After all, did I not come here to capture your heart? That done, how could I possibly so soon release it?”
Viola shreeked again and threw her arms around Avery. “My Lord, you have made me the happiest woman alive!”
Viola remained clasped tightly to him for several minutes, leaving Avery free to run his hands lovingly over her naked body. After a time, the caressing elicited a response from the woman, and the hug merged into a more intimate joining for the lovers. It was a full hour yet before the two would rise to inform the town of their God's decision to take his leave.
* * *
Kelvor considered himself a temperate God. He was not one to overreact to minor issues, nor be too harsh upon his followers for their failings. He never commanded his faithful to flog each other or themselves, for instance, as some of his more extreme brethren were known to do. He was, though, absolutely rigid in his duties to uphold justice, both in the mortal realm and amongst his fellow kin of godhood.
It was this reputation that had brought Galentine to him. An injustice had occurred in the mortal realm, and Galentine insisted that one of their fellow Gods was the likely culprit. It would take some inquiry to uncover the guilty party, as the culprit had covered their tracks well, it seemed. Despite this, Kelvor was confident that he could root out the one responsible and see that justice was served. He had no doubt that the God of Honor's words were true, either, for nothing short of genuine need would have brought another God to ask him for his services. His temperament towards falsely laid offenses was the only thing to which he was known to demonstrate greater wrath against than those who defied justice.
All of this Kelvor reflected upon as his fellow God presented his initial claim. Despite the vagueness of the charge, Kelvor had absolute confidence in both his capacity to seek justice and in the sincerity of the charge. If he had a moment's doubt in either, he would not have pursued the issue further. Instead, he remained attentive to the issue as both his duties and talents directed him.
“You will need to be more specific, of course,” commented Kelvor. “Generalities will not permit me to dispense justice.”
“Of course,” agreed Galentine. The God of Honor wore a simple white robe to this meeting, symbolizing the purity of his devotion and conviction, Kelvor assumed. The God of Justice was well aware that this was a submissive hearing, and that Galentine sought through subtle manipulations to gain Kelvor's favor towards his claim. Despite their centuries of association, still the other Gods sought to win his favor through such menial gestures, and each time they failed. Yet Kelvor accepted this as part of his duty, to see in the effort to manipulate whether there was attempt to distract him ( a sure sign of deception) or simple flattery (misplaced belief, since Kelvor knew himself beyond such petty influence in the pursuit of his duties).
“I only needed to be assured that you would act upon this affront,” mewed the other God.
Kelvor raised an eyebrow. “You are not being completely truthful in that,” he said. “You, of all Gods, know that I could never leave an injustice unattended. Speak more clearly then and tell me what it is that disturbs you so?”
Galentine inclined his head. “As always, you strike to the heart of the matter,” he replied. “It is the means by which our fellow has acted. It is unheard of. If he or she p
ersists in this, I am troubled that it could devastate the ranks of the faithful. Not just my own, but all other Gods...”
Kelvor held up a hand. “Your words are heavily tempered. You speak of dread without revealing why there should be any. Surely whatever means our fellow God has employed could be duplicated and used against him. Or her. In the end, a balance of power will again be reached, whomever ends up taking advantage of their temporary tactic. At best, a temporary advantage would be gained, and in the realm of immortals, temporary issues do not deserve such obsession.”
“I would not be so certain,” rebuffed the God of Honor. “I have never before seen even a remote ability such as this employed. Not by our brethren, nor by those who came before us.”
“Then explain what it is you speak of, so that I might better judge your words.”
Galentine heaved a great sigh. “As you know, I maintain several shrines and temples within what the mortals call the Wildelands. I even have a monastery there to provide support to any of the lesser conclaves. As the name suggests, the Wildelands are ripe with creatures and peoples that have little honor and it has been my task to bring civility to these lands.”
At Kelvor's nod, Galentine continued. “This very morning, the monastery had a visitor who came through the gates with reckless abandon, mad with need to be heard. He kept bellowing of doom and destruction upon the faithful if his words were not heeded. The man was fevered, a wound in his shoulder spreading its infection to his mind. It took the men of the monastery some time to wrestle the man from his horse and to calm him enough to permit his wound and fever to be healed.
“Once the man had recovered enough, he identified himself as Halor, priest magistrate of Scollhaven.” At the name, Kelvor noticeably tensed, but made no move to interrupt Galentine's oration. “This stunned everyone present, since not a one of them had sensed any inkling of divine power from the man, as any priest of higher status would have radiated. And there was a reason, Kelvor. The reason not a one of my faithful could sense the divine within this priest is that every iota of energy that I had given unto him had been drained, and the link to the divine severed! Worse, the severance is so severe that no amount of ritual could reestablish my connection to him. The man will never again be able to wield the divine magic of the priesthood!”
Kelvor was shaken. “That is not possible, Galentine,” he said. “No mortal can be severed from the divine unless they wish it themselves. It is part of the covenant...”
“And yet it was done! I have confirmed it myself! I went myself to scry upon the man who had been my devout representative, and I could not sense him other than what my eyes could see. His faith did not flow to me, even when his prayers were so fervent that his palms bled from where his nails dug in. It as if the man had no soul, Kelvor. The link that has always been there in every other mortal man, woman and child was simply... no longer there!”
Kelvor sat in silence, letting the words sink in. The power to strip a mortal not only of his link to the divine, but to also sever the divine's link to the mortal – it was effectively the power to deny a God worship! Such a though was... blasphemous, at the very least. And Galentine believed it had been committed by one of their own...
Of course, Kelvor knew of Scollhaven, at least cursorily, and knew that Imery had believed the disturbance in that town to be linked to the Old Gods of the Pantheon in some way. Could she be mistaken though? Could Galentine have uncovered evidence that it was one of their own behind the loss of faith in Scollhaven?
“Did your priest say how this was done to him?” asked the God of Justice.
Galentine nodded. “And a diabolic tale it was! It seems a God has taken up residence in Scollhaven.”
“A God?” scoffed Kelvor in disbelief. “Living amongst mortals?”
“It gets better,” Galentine continued. “The God calls himself 'Avery', uses our symbol of heresy as his holy symbol, and claims to be the heir of the Old Gods. He actually says he is descended from Malik and Charith!”
“That is not possible,” responded Kelvor.
“I know. Had either Malik or Charith – or any of the Pantheon for that matter – begetted a new God amongst themselves, we would have sensed the birth. A new God is a powerful thing. Besides, the Pantheon has had long-standing objection to breeding with their own for fear of their offspring rising against them as they did against their own sires.”
“So the God is not new,” concluded Kelvor.
“Precisely,” agreed his fellow God. “Which means he is an existing God or Goddess in disguise, pretending to be a new God to spread dissent amongst the faithful. Already, Scollhaven's populace had all but cast off its faith in the New Order completely!”
“So why do you believe this 'Avery' to be one of our brethren? Could it be a member of the Pantheon, or even perhaps a demiGod?”
“I will confess that both possibilities had crossed my mind,” admitted Galentine. “But the heresy symbol eliminates the possibility that it is one of the Pantheon. They could not use one of our symbols, anymore than we could use one of theirs. As for a demiGod, what halfbreed could hope to possess enough strength to cut off a God's power? And before you suggest it, the only other possibility would be an Elder Power, but what purpose would they possibly have for pretending to be a lesser being?
“No, my brother,” concluded Galentine. “There is no escaping that the only possible culprit is one of our own brethren. One of the New Order has learned how to sever us from our faithful, a grave injustice to the remaining Gods, and he or she must be stopped before more of the devoted are lost to us forever!”
Kelvor steepled his fingers to his mouth. “I cannot say that I am completely convinced that it is one of our own, nor that the Pantheon is completely free of blame in this. It will require some investigation to learn what has truly transpired in Scollhaven.
“In the interim, take my advice and stay clear of the town yourself. We do not wish to panic the culprit before they can be identified. Further, speak to no one else of what you have told me. The less that know, the greater my chances of success.”
Galentine inclined his head again. “I will follow your advice. I am greatly distressed at this and would not impede your efforts. Nor would I willingly forewarn whomever has done this foul deed that we have learned of their... deviancy.” With that, the God of Honor vanished.
Kelvor sat unmoving upon his throne for several minutes. The implications Galentine had brought before him were staggering. He recalled Imery's thought that Scollhaven was in some unknown way linked to the man Goodsmith, who seemed to be in possession of Pantheon power. And now this Avery claimed to be a child of the Old Gods, as well. Imery was right in at least one respect: there must be a common link between the two.
Tentatively, Kelvor reached out in Scollhaven's vicinity, searching for the presence of whichever God had set up residency there. Yet, as with Goodsmith, the God could sense nothing of this Avery. There was one of the Lesser Gods in the vicinity, but Kelvor could clearly sense no amount of significant power within him. Certainly nothing that would suggest the power level necessary for such as this. Chances were his attentions had been drawn there the same as Imery's had been originally. Still, if Ankor was in the vicinity, perhaps he had gleaned something that would further the investigation. Assuming, of course, that the Prankster could be encouraged to cooperate in the first place...
Ankor was the God of Mischief. However, amongst his fellow Gods, he was known as the Prankster due to his love of tricks and badly-timed jests. He was one of the twenty-four Lesser Gods of the New Order, which placed him at about a tenth of the power of the twenty-four Greater Gods. Yet despite his menial power, he was ever prone to exercise his station against members of the greater order. Were it not for the sheer magnitude of power required to sever one of the Greater God's faithful by force, the entire affair would actually reek of Ankor's hand for mischief. But the Lesser God simply did not have the power necessary to do this. In fact, Kelvor was not
certain if even a member of the Greater Gods had the power to do so. Perhaps there were more than one responsible party?
Kelvor could not help but shudder. Not one anomaly, but two. How many others might exist, there was no way to know. And the God of Mischief somewhere at the scene of the crime, likely watching the whole thing unfold with a smirk on his face.
It had been ever so briefly considered between Imery and himself – and even suggested by Galentine in dismissal – that this might be the work of something more than a God. There were greater beings in the cosmos that even Gods feared – what the Gods referred to as Elder Powers – whose powers made the Gods seem as mortals by comparison. Yet, as Galentine suggested, why would beings of such magnitude bother undermining the Gods? If they were loose upon the world, why not confront the Gods directly?
Or perhaps this was all bait to lure the Gods in some way? Force them to react to these scattered threats and leave themselves vulnerable at the same time? But again, why bother with such tedious efforts rather than declare themselves openly? None of it made any sense.
With a heavy mind, Kelvor willed the creation of two new forms. One he sent to confront the errant fool of a God who would likely avoid any question put to him, and the other to Imery to summon her to a meeting. He needed to discuss these new developments with her before he decided upon a course of action, as was his duty under their pact. He had given his word not to act in this matter without her, and he had no intention of defying his own integrity.
It took only a moment for Imery to appear. “You summoned me?”
Kelvor nodded. “I have news concerning Scollhaven.”
“And I have news of another sort. Since you have summoned me, you may speak first.”
Kelvor rankled over the assumption of control exerted by the Goddess. This was his domain, yet the Goddess of Truth was seeking to dominate the audience. Still, it did not serve him to challenge her arrogance, and so simply bowed his head in acquiescence. “It seems some entity calling itself simply 'Avery', son of Malik and Charith, has taken up residence in Scollhaven. He is the source of our dwindled faith therein. He is actively soliciting worship, using our sign of heresy as his own.”