by Charles Dean
“But, when the night ended, I found myself feeling more tired than normal. So, like a dunce, I went to bed early. They had put a sleeping pill in my drink, knocking me out so hard that I didn’t even notice as they wrenched Kate from the bed. They didn’t even bother shutting the door or silencing her or making it quiet. They . . .”
Miller paused again, this time stopping physically as well as verbally. Lee didn’t know how long the two girls behind him had been listening, but they stopped too, and Lee could see their eyes glued to Miller as they waited for him to continue.
“And . . . And her screams managed to wake me up despite the pill.” Miller’s cheeks flushed red, and Lee could see the anger in him as he talked about it. “I could hear them, and I came down, and it was the first time I felt the power of justice’s call surge through me. I don’t regret what I did. I don’t regret ripping my brother’s life from his limp body. I only lament that I couldn’t kill my father too. I regret that, as I was killing them . . . as I was tearing apart my closest blood relatives for what they had done to Kate, that I couldn’t drag that wench to my home and shatter her too.”
“The goddess?” Lee asked, clarifying the ‘her.’
“Yes, the goddess. When my father had called the church to tell them what had happened, she had devised the plan for my family. She had set the whole thing up and even told them what sleeping pill to use so that I would still wake to see it. She told them to make sure my woman screamed because the anger and hate would wake up my divine blood. This was all a blessing to them. To them, this was supposed to be the night I was baptized as her Herald after my anger ignited the blood.”
“Wait, isn’t she the Goddess of Ice? Why would anger trigger that?” Lee asked curiously.
“She is the Goddess of Ice, and she preaches that everyone should be cold and calculating, that they should strategize and think above all else, but that isn’t her nature. That’s just the nature our goddess wishes was hers. I didn’t know it at the time, but as I studied my enemy, I learned that she is the Goddess of Ice and Hate, and to access her powers, one needs a hate so deep that he can freeze his own heart forever. Nothing can remain but hatred. This is her nature. The Goddess of Grudges is a more apt description.”
“That’s . . .” Ironic. Lee kept the musing to himself, but he couldn’t help from pondering it over. She is the Goddess of Grudges, and the person she wanted to baptize as a Herald only has a grudge against her. “Terrible,” he finished aloud, deciding on a word that was tactful instead. He had somewhat hoped that his Charisma would take over again and sort out his diction, but it didn’t, so he grabbed the first word that didn’t sound like the emotion it really invoked, pity, and threw it out in his place. “I can’t believe she would do that.”
“I couldn’t either. Nor could I believe that my family would. They were going to use some other event to trigger my hatred, but when they saw I was with a Human, they only saw an opportunity. They claimed that she was just a bloodline whore and that death was the best gift they could give her for her crimes. If they had known the real Kate, those words would have never left their mouths. If they had taken a chance and truly gotten to know her, none of that would have happened. Even if Deigha ordered them to kill her a hundred times and begged for them to do it, no one that knew her would be able to do it.”
She does sound amazing, Lee thought, turning his head a moment to meet eyes with Ling and then Amber. Ling seemed to just be depressed now, but Amber was as teary-eyed as Miller. She had overheard the whole story and taken it to heart, and it reminded Lee that she had a sort of empathy that was rare and needed to be treasured in a friend.
“But if you’re not her Herald, how did you get here?” Lee asked.
“I signed up for the games, of course,” Miller answered with a sigh. “Even if I wasn’t first on the list for the player slots, our world was one of the god-aware ones, and it had the first draft for the game. I was in the 150s when the games were announced, and it took me half a year to kill my way up to the top 10. Deigha was furious, but per the rules, she couldn’t do anything to me outside or inside of the game once my name was on the list.”
“And . . . you wanted to come to the game? To do what? Kill her Herald and make sure she doesn’t win? Will that be enough?” Lee asked. “Is there a way to follow you after the games to your world and help you deal with her there?”
Miller stopped again in his tracks. “Lee, do you not know what happens to a god if the Herald dies?”
“They lose the game?”
“The god dies, Lee. The god dies with the Herald. This isn’t just a game of survival for the Heralds: it’s a game to determine which gods are allowed to exist for the next dozen millennia. Only one can be chosen unless all of the world stone fragments are found and even then, only two may live.”
Lee gulped. This was a bombshell of information that he hadn’t expected.
“Yeah, sorry I forgot to mention that,” Augustus chimed in inside his head.
If I die, he dies. These words repeated in Lee’s head several times as he processed what was being said. The arrogant shapeshifter had been a complete jerk to him from the moment he had met him, save a few redeemable moments of comradery that didn’t even nearly make up for the other smart-aleck jabs Augustus threw at Lee whenever the opportunity arose. The broad implication was that Lee had killed a god when he took the life of the Herald of Storytelling, and it put things in perspective as to why Augustus was treating him the way he did. He had lived thousands of years, and his behavior was likely picked to best nurture Lee and increase his odds of winning. When he had rescued Lee, he didn’t do it just for Lee, he did it for himself too. If Lee had died in that slave barracks by Satterfield, Augustus would have died along with him.
“You didn’t know?” Miller asked, his face as blank and confused as Lee’s was stunned.
“I didn’t,” Lee answered morosely.
“Does . . . does that mean that, if Lee dies, the people Augustus is taking care of in the other world won’t be okay?” Amber injected herself into the conversation. “If Lee dies, does that mean David and the others who have gone before us will suffer in the afterlife?”
What afterlife? You mean that story I stole and spun from an actual religion just to comfort the grieving people of Satterfield so they wouldn’t feel as awful about the deaths of their loved ones?
“Even if Augustus perishes, the land he sends his people to shouldn’t,” Lee answered, leaving some ambiguity at the end of the sentence. He wanted to sound like an expert on the subject, but a part of his brain was still calculating the ramifications of what each stance would mean and which would be better for the society as a whole.
If he were to strictly proceed based on which part would be better for him, he would have immediately denied the possibility that an afterlife could exist without Augustus. It would have created an incentive for his people to protect him at all costs; but, even with the sacrifices he was planning on making, he couldn’t justify his or Augustus’s life as being worth more than any other from among the people of this world. They might have just been NPCs to players like Miller, but to Lee, they were just as real as he was--and that meant that their lives were just as important as his own. The only difference was that he needed to stay in control to make sure that as many as possible reached tomorrow. That was a mentality he had to have, and it was quintessential to being a good leader. That’s also why he couldn’t commit to the other answer entirely either. He might need to use religion to entice people to keep him alive just the same in a future conflict, lest his absence create an even larger problem for them.
I can’t believe you left this detail out! Lee cursed at Augustus in his head. How could you not mention that?!
“It felt like a need-to-know basis thing,” Augustus answered, and Lee could almost hear him shrugging through the psychic communication. “You didn’t need to know, so why bother telling you?”
How did I not need to know? I’ve b
een gambling with more than just my life here, and you never thought to tell me?
“Aww . . .” the god replied condescendingly, and his smirk was almost visible in his words. “Don’t tell me that you’re now more worried about dying because it might get little old me killed.”
That’s not what this is about, and you know it. So, spill it! Why the hell did you keep it a secret?
“I had reasons, and I don’t need to explain them to you,” he growled, swapping from mocking to irritated almost instantly. I don’t even need to justify anything to you since you’re going to do what’s best to stay alive whether I say anything or not, so stop being dramatic. The true God forbid, I just wanted to put a little less pressure on you when you arrived in this world. I swear, ungrateful humans are a commodity that never runs short.”
Whatever, Lee harrumphed in his head.
“So, this goddess . . .” Lee tried to change the topic back to the important details. “Do you know her Herald?”
“Yeah, I know him. I’ve met him. When Kate died, I promised myself that I would avenge her. I promised a debt of blood that I have been paying back one sanguine corpse at a time to the Goddess of Justice that looks after me. This one, though . . .” Miller sighed. “This one defeated me. It wasn’t an honorable battle. I was stabbed in the back, but it was a loss all the same. When I first arrived in this world, I trained non-stop. I spent a month and a half building up my skills amongst the evil creatures of this world until I caught word of where the Herald I was destined to kill resided. When I burst through his palace and tried to kill him, however, he had a hundred bowman shoot me down before I could come within ten feet of him. I never even so much as got a chance to swing my spear in his direction before I was face down on the ground. Dead. It was a brutal death, and per the rules of the game, it sent me back to square one. I could have opted to just have my body warped to the next game’s beginning and start over as some players choose to do if they die during the first three months of this realm, but I stayed because he was still here.
“I ended up in Satterfield after that, and you know the rest. I can’t offer much information on this Herald, only that he is every bit as conniving and meticulously detail-oriented as his goddess claims she is. Several challengers have come before him, and each one is picked off in the shadows. Even when he was taking over the city, he never fought his fights fairly. He poisoned his opponents with drugs that would hinder their combat ability, kidnapped the tougher ones and held some of their families hostage. That’s how he fights, and he’s very good at it. I think I could win if I fought him now, but I have no way of saying for certain. He will surely wield the powers of cold and the strength of hate as is the bloodline’s gift, but I don’t know what other abilities he has.
“Do you know him personally?” Lee asked. If Deigha’s Heralds were all picked from her bloodline, and her bloodline was all given royalty, there was a chance that Miller might have run into him at some noble ball.
“Yeah, this one I do. He’s my first cousin from my father’s side. He was a childhood playmate even though his rank was higher than mine on the family tree.”
“What about personal details? Something I might be able to use?” Lee inquired. He didn’t know what to expect, but being able to set a trap that the Herald wasn’t expecting might be helpful.
“I don’t know if it will aid you since you also have that type of rat-like, scheming brain as he does, but I could tell you that he hates action movies and likes to watch romance. He spends most of his time reading books, but he never reads the same one twice. I don’t know anything else. He was my cousin, not my brother.”
Mmm . . . Lee thought to himself. He’s likely to hole himself in his patron’s library then. At least I know where to find him if I ever need to track him down. “Thank you. I’m sorry for bringing this up. I know it must be difficult to rehash.”
“For Augustus,” Miller said, and then the four of them left it at that. Lee knew Amber wasn’t happy dropping it there and that she would have a million questions, but they had slowed down for several minutes and needed to pick the pace back up again if they were going to remain on schedule.
With that, the four of them and their band of merry men traveled a few more hours until Miller smacked Lee on the shoulder. “Hey, you forgot to tell me.”
“Tell you what?” Lee asked, confused.
“Where we’re going. That was the deal,” Miller said.
Oh, yeah. That was the deal. Lee laughed to himself. He had completely forgotten about the fact he had agreed to tell Miller some of his plan after hearing the Firbolg’s sad story. “Well, from the intel I’ve gathered through Connacht, we should be coming up on a rival town’s military expedition shortly. They have four armies, and this one is coming dangerously close to Kirshtein. Apparently, from what Connacht has told me, they make this patrol with their eastern forces regularly. This unit makes up roughly a third of their active forces and circles by this side of the city once every four months. We actually lucked out that they’re this close to Kirshtein since normally we’d have to travel much farther.”
“And . . . why are we on our way to this group?” Amber asked. Instead of simply hanging behind like she did previously, she was now holding Lee’s hand again just like she had often done when walking through towns.
“Because we need to find their messenger and make sure they get the right letter, of course,” Lee explained, pulling out a blank piece of paper. “Their messenger will always come to the town carrying mail from their city some time after the sun sets, so we need to intercept him as soon as possible.”
Amber grabbed the paper from Lee’s hands and studied it, turning it over a few times as she tried to puzzle out the deeper secret she was sure it was holding. “I’m lost. You want to deliver some blank piece of paper? Is there a point to that?”
Lee smiled. “Actually, it’s not done yet. That’s why I brought this.” He pulled out an inkwell too. “It’ll be a completed letter when we get there. I’m just missing something at the moment.”
Amber nodded and then pursed her lips before adding, “Well, I’ll leave you to it, but you’re not going to be doing anything shady, are you? Like you did in town at those bars?”
“Shady?” Ling looked over at Amber. “What did he do that was shady?”
“He gave credit where credit wasn’t due,” Amber answered without explaining it all the way. Lee almost laughed out loud as he felt all three of his golems nod their head in agreement with Amber’s statement.
“Oh.” Ling frowned as she gave Lee a contemplative gaze. “Did you try to take credit for anything in particular?”
“No, it was the opposite,” Amber clarified a little while keeping her answer vague.
“That makes sense,” Miller chimed in, joining the conversation and smacking Lee’s back. “This one has never been good at anything but modesty.”
“You really don’t need to put it like that,” Lee laughed. “I’d like to think I have a ton of good qualities.”
“Indeed, little man. That’s the spirit. Don’t let the bad hand you were dealt get you down,” Miller said with a hearty laugh, causing the two girls to also join in with giggles of their own.
Lee just sighed. “I guess . . . since I’m not good at it, I won’t be making any beer or alcohols tonight.”
Miller’s eyes shot open. “WHAT?!”
“No reason in doing something you’re not good at,” Lee said. “Since you don’t like my drinks, I’ll just have to refrain from making them.”
“Never! You must never stop making them! I will hear none of this blasphemy! As the very son of the God of Alcohol and Crafts, you must work tirelessly to master both beverage and food in his name, or you will bring shame upon your heritage!”
“Nah, I think I’ll just give up. I’m not good at it,” Lee taunted, having way too much fun watching his friend panic.
“That won’t do!” Miller insisted.
“Actually,” he
replied, giving his friend a moment of hope, “maybe you’re right. Since I’m not good, I will need practice.”
“That’s right. That’s the way to think.” Miller nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.
“I’ll simply have to drink it all myself though since it wouldn’t be just or fair to share a bad product with others,” Lee added as soon as Miller looked relaxed, causing the Firbolg to fluster up again in indignation.
“No! How will you know when you’ve gotten better if others aren’t there to taste test?!” Miller protested once more.
“Oh, that’s right. I will need taste testers.” Lee scratched his head and pretended to contemplate it. “Where will I get them?”
“Of course--” Miller started to speak but was cut off by Amber right away.
“I’ll take that bullet for you, Miller. No reason to volunteer. I’ll be the taste tester on all your future batches, Lee.” Amber smiled and squeezed Lee’s hand as she looked up into his eyes with a mischievous and knowing look written across her face.
I thought you weren’t a fan of me playing the cunning crook!
“No, a lady should never have to suffer the indignities of trying a bitter beer. I’ll take that burden on solely for myself,” Miller said proudly, an air of nobility circling around him as he looked up at the sky. “I will not allow an injustice like that to occur even if it requires me to sacrifice myself.”