Zerial's Chambers, Temporary Templar Compound
Sitting at my desk across from the literal goddess of my people as she took my usual spot, staring out at the Ashfields and the melted wall was not where I expected to find myself on any day of the week. Divine visitations were not unheard of, just extremely rare and there were several important times in our history that tell of our goddess in various forms descending from the heavens to speak to some important person and on one occasion smite said important person. Many eyewitness accounts of those times had survived that it was just common knowledge among the educated, the religious, and the nobility that such visitations were not mere myth. But only a crazy person would expect a visit and as I said, it was not high on my list of ways this day was likely to go.
How did I know that this was my goddess? I could be hallucinating, or it could be a mage trying to deceive me. A couple of things put my mind at ease while also terrifying me. One, I wasn't the delusional sort and medically I was fine according to my magical physicians. Two, if this was a mage and they had somehow made it past all of the wards and pickets to be here, in the Templar compound, which had wards and enchantments engraved into the walls even more densely than Gerald's quarters, and past all of the roaming patrols which included mages who were trained to detect that type of subtle magic - it just wasn't that likely. Thirdly, Dorman, Oik, or any other number of mages who were tuned into my security personally would have come running in by now to smite whoever this was.
Very few people could make it into my chambers undetected and unchallenged and, of those rare individuals, the closest one who could do it was still in a coma from what I knew. Finally, what made me so convinced this was a divine being? Simple. I felt it down to my very bones, the quiet power thrumming. It was like watching Tika, only more concentrated into an individual. The Echo of Eternity.
"I favor you, Zerial," Pervalia spoke suddenly in her oddly soft voice, turning to face me. I stopped my fidgeting and locked my gaze onto hers. Though Pervalia was not a beautiful woman by any stretch, those burning eyes terrified me and captivated me in equal measure. "My clergy, bless their devoted hearts, believes that my theology is locked into very specific niches, and I have been looking for a way to change that, since their belief fundamentally changes the power I wield. They believe that I am the Goddess of Victory, and to them that has simple connotations. The victory of a king over his peers, the victory of a general in battle. Large, sweeping victories - and I am. But I am so much more, could be so much more than that, Zerial.
I am the bringer of all victory, the herald of change. The baker who perfects his technique, the mother who raises a proud child. All of victory is in my purview, and I find that the country devoted to me by that beautiful man all those years ago has stagnated from in its potency. But this country has lost it's way. Slavery. Indentured servants. Greedy noblemen, priests, and merchants. Mages who have their powers restrained by the weak for fear of losing position. For my people to prosper, they must be free to achieve victory in all of it's glory. Victory is a beautiful, noble struggle that brings about change, and so it might be better to call me the Goddess of Change. But victory sounds better," Pervalia stopped speaking and considered me.
"You have a potent potential inside of you Zerial, you would have made a mighty archmage one day," Pervalia said bluntly and I felt my stomach flutter. "It's too late now, you'll never be a mage. Your talent with the arcane energies needed to have been manifested by now and it has instead been squandered. A potential such as yours wont burn out, it will change. You won't be able to harness the potential in the air around you since you haven't attuned to it, but you'll be capable of more than normal people. Feats of strength, speed, and resilience that will transcend your human limitation," she paused again and swept her eyes around my bare office before returning those burning orbs to me.
As she considered me I watched her silently, and the flames in her eyes seemed to be shifting from a quiet warm fire, slowly growing in heat. It was as if I was being dragged into their depths and as I grew closer, the fire grew brighter, hotter, fiercer. "Oh how you will suffer, Zerial," she whispered quietly, and I snapped out of my daze. I was once again sitting in my own office. "Potential like yours crystalizes over time, turning you into a lodestone for glorious deeds and fel actions. It gifts you with the strength to prevail in those moments, but victory is never easy. One must strive against the bonds of fate to achieve it. You will suffer, you will agonize, and you might even lose yourself to it all."
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
"So be it." I said, surprising myself with the strength of my voice, the conviction of will I felt coursing through my body. I saw Pervalia's eyes widen in surprise for a moment before they shifted to something more subtle - pleasure? Joy? "I will lead these people," I continued, "and I will elevate them even as we avenge the ones we have lost and bring justice to those who have committed this atrocity," I finished savagely. Probably not the best way to speak to a Goddess. Oh well.
"Good," she said simply. "Your crusade caught me by surprise but, as I have said, I favor it. Your actions bring change, and change Pervalia needs," it felt odd and was slightly confusing to me for a moment. Dedicating a country to a Goddess was a devout and noble thing to do but, when having conversations with said Goddess about the country sharing a name with her, it got confusing easily. "Naturally you'll have to win first, to receive my full blessing and backing," she said casually. "Your ideas will piss off a lot of people in my clergy, and they will fight back to preserve their way of doing things. Ill favor the victory, as I always do when it comes to a fight amongst my own devoted followers. Can't be showing favorites and I will win either way. Because whoever wins will be the strongest and most deserving of the favor of the Goddess of Victory," kind of arrogant, but I guess you would have to be, to be the Goddess of Victory.
"However, I do feel a slight need to balance the scales as it were. Your crusade is mighty in military power, but desperately lacks all the things needed to persist afterwards. You have until this war ends to figure it out or your bright wick will blow out before a day of peace has passed," she warned me of things I already knew, but that was her prerogative as a Goddess. "The clergy of Victory have an advantage in that they have enough gold and treasure to drown a king, and they will mobilize that immense wealth to defend themselves from the change you bring. I will not shower you with gold - I am not the God of Money after all - but I will bless you, personally, with my favor," and with that she stood and walked through my desk until she was towering over me. "Stand" and I did so.
I noticed with some annoyance that she was taller than me, easily seven feet. It wasn't readily apparent from when she was sitting - or did she grow? She bent down and kissed each of my cheeks, and I felt a hot blush coming to my face. Where her lips touched I felt power course into my body, and it filled me to bursting with energy. And then she slammed her palm down over my heart and I threw my head back in agony. Her hand passed through everything to clutch my very heart, and she squeeze hard, stopping it from beating.
Just as quickly, it was over. I ripped my shirt off and burned into my chest over my heart was a burn that looked like a fist clutching a spear. As I watched the burn healed over into a scar in seconds and then faded slightly, looking more like a raised tattoo. "The hell?" was all I could ask, and she chuckled.
"My blessing, Dear Zerial, is like victory. It hurts like hell to get there. You'll find yourself more resistant to magical and divine influence - even my own - with that mark. The Gods and Goddesses of this world won't be able to alter you without contesting my will first - and there are not very many gods and goddesses who cant win a contest against me. I cheat." she smirked, "spells from weaker mages will slide right off you, if they are arcane in nature. You'll only get minor resistance from magical elements, since fire still burns and rocks still crush as a matter of reality and not magical influence. So don't go running into an inferno spell or try to catch a boulder with your teeth," and suddenly she was gone.
"What in the shit just happened," I asked to myself, and I thought I heard a faint throaty chuckle, but I could just be imagining that. I looked down at the brand on my chest and sighed. My life just got a lot more complicated. I put my shirt back on and sat heavily in my chair. It was still warm from when she had been sitting in it. My issues were manifold, and they were only amplified by the appearance of my Goddess. But the key to all of this, was that I had the hidden tacit approval to pursue my course of action.