Shirasil feigned mild curiosity as the gods blinked into the room, one at a time, answering Widengra’s emergency summons. The God of War paced angrily about the central pedestal, while others hung back, eyes averted and whispering amongst themselves in an attempt to avoid drawing the god’s attention—or wrath.
Yua Tin and their champion—well, ex-champion—also appeared nearby, draped as always in robes of white and blue, hair tied back with gold ribbons. They were already engaged in quiet conversation with one another as Shirasil drifted casually over to them.
“Resplendent as always, God of Starlight,” he said to Yua Tin. “And you, Lord Blair. It’s good to see you in the hall of the gods.”
Blair’s cat ears twitched at his words, but she otherwise did not acknowledge his greeting.
“Shirasil.” Yua Tin spread their hands welcomingly. “You speak with the sweetness of a sugar snake. Do you also come bearing its fangs?”
Shirasil held up his hands in defense. “I merely came to make small talk. I don’t suppose either of you have any insight into why Widengra called us here today?”
“No,” Blair said, “but I suspect you might.”
Shirasil grinned. “And what about your newly acquired insight? Any progress on finding this Kanin individual?”
The felis’s tail whipped back and forth. “If I did, you would not be the first to learn of it.”
Shirasil laughed. “The suspicion is understandable, given the circumstances. However I promise, I only intend to help.”
“I believe you do,” Yua Tin says. “Though who you intend to help is an enigma sure to remain shrouded in uncertainty.”
Shirasil placed a hand on his chest, as if wounded. “Then allow me to be blunt: the safety of the Travelers is my top priority. All that I ask—”
“I will not pledge my loyalty to you, Shirasil,” Yua Tin said.
Disappointing. “I would never presume that you would.” He needed to take another approach. “Do our centuries of friendship mean nothing?”
Yau Tin smiled faintly. “Of course.”
He tipped his head. “Of course, they mean nothing? Or of course, our friendship counts for something?”
“Yes.” They laughed lightly, taking Blair’s arm. “Come, friend, we shall continue our conversation in private.”
“Blair doesn’t belong to you, anymore,” Shirasil said, perhaps a little more shortly than he intended. He turned to Blair. “They may have trained you, but you don’t owe anyone anything. You can make your own choices.”
“I am choosing to depart with Yua Tin,” Blair replied shortly. “But thank you for your concern.”
“Just keep me in mind,” he added as the pair turned away. “I’m on your side.”
The gods wandered off, leaving Shirasil alone. Well, he could have handled that better. But those two were up to something, he was sure of it, and he just hated being left out when schemes were afoot. Shirasil skimmed the room, searching for anyone else that might be holding interesting information, and found the company depressingly lacking. Lorata saved him from having to make a second attempt at small talk when she abruptly appeared in the hall with a flash of light.
“Finally,” Widengra growled. “To think you’d be the last to show.”
“I am somewhat busy with many other pressing matters,” Lorata snapped, striding up to the pedestal. “This better be worth my while.”
Widengra almost wilted beneath her scorn; but he was equipped with more spite than sense, and the former quickly won out. “I would not have called a meeting if it wasn’t. There is a betrayer in our midst.”
Several audible groans drifted through the room, and Shirasil had to stifle a laugh. He’d been making such claims for half a century at least, and the other gods were beginning to tire of the accusations.
Not that it mattered this time he was right.
Lorata pressed her mouth into a displeased line. “Explain.”
“My Champion was slain by a Traveler,” Widengra said, and this did get a stir from the room. “Then, she was made into a Champion herself.”
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Many gods spoke at once in response to this. It took Lorata nearly a minute to quiet them all.
“A Champion?” she repeated, skeptical. “To which god?”
Widengra faltered. “That information was obscured to me.”
“Do you have evidence to support this claim?” Lorata asked. She turned to the room. “Unless anyone would care to step forward and explain?”
The hall went dead silent.
“It’s true,” Widengra insisted. “I saw her myself. Sal was her name.”
Several gods’ eyes glazed over as they checked the information logged on System users. They wouldn’t find much, though. Just basic information on her name, level, and class.
“There does appear to be someone of that name in the list,” Lorata said after a moment. “But this claim is difficult to believe. Making a Traveler into a Champion would be rash. Hiding them from the pantheon, more so. And she only appears to be level 20. How could she have bested one of your Champions? What motive would she have had?”
“Revenge,” Widengra snarled. “She used poison and trickery to target my Champion and enact a ploy to assassinate her.”
“Why?” Blair spoke up. “Revenge for what?”
Ah, Shirasil loved it when someone else did his work for him.
Widengra scowled. “Maru initially failed to exterminate the aberration when she first appeared on our world.”
“Exterminate?” Lorata repeated, horrified.
“She was dangerous!” Widengra snarled. “The fact that she managed to kill my Champion proves it!”
“And remind me,” Shirasil finally spoke up. “This Traveler attacked your Champion before or after she was attacked first?”
Widengra rounded on Shirasil, his blood tattoos lashing with rage. His eyes narrowed.
Oops. Might be drawing unwanted attention. “Tell me this,” Shirasil continued, before Widengra had a chance to say anything intelligent. “If this Traveler really did kill your Champion, why’d you let her go? Why not bring her back here to show the rest of us and have her face justice?”
“Laying a hand on another god’s Champion is forbidden,” Widengra snaps. “But of course you of all people would suggest breaking such customs.”
“Well, yes.” Shirasil shrugged, looking around at all the other gods. “I would. Of course. This sounds like extremely extenuating circumstances.”
It was a risky move. The laws of the gods protected Sal last time she encountered Widengra, but pushing for an exception to the rules would mean it wouldn’t save her in any encounters going forward.
But it was a price Shirasil was willing to pay for shifting suspicion off of him. Afterall, why would he be advocating for his own Champion to be caught?
Lorata sighed, rubbing her temple. “I agree with Shirasil. Finding and monitoring these Travelers is top priority. If it’s true she was made a Champion, that would be even more reason to bring her before us.”
Briefly, Shirasil caught Blair watching him. He inclined his head a fraction of an inch, his mouth twitching with a ghost of a smile. She held the look for a moment, then glanced away.
“The way we are currently handling the situation is insufficient,” Lorata continued. “We do not have enough Champions to be everywhere at once. And killing the Travelers should be a last resort,” she added, turning to Widengra. “We stand to learn more about the situation and how we can bring it under control through apprehension, not murder. That shouldn’t be difficult for a god of your abilities.”
Widengra ground his teeth. “This one is dangerous. And I deserve justice for my Champion.”
“If you can find her and bring her here, I will be the judge of that,” Lorata said.
“But—”
“Enough,” she snapped, the light in the room flickering with her words. Lorata took a steadying breath, then turned back to the rest of the gods. “If anyone can find this supposed Traveler Champion, you are to bring her here—alive. And if I find out it is true, whichever one of you behaved so rashly will be stripped of their Champions and face the possibility of demotion.”
Alarmed murmurs whispered through the room.
“Further,” Lorata continued, “I will be creating a rotating schedule for visits to the mortal realm. If you have fewer than three Champions, now will be your opportunity to take on more acolytes. The sooner we can account for all Travelers, the better.”
Now that was a surprise. Not an unwelcome one, however. Shirasil wouldn’t turn up his nose at a legitimate excuse to be in the mortal realm.
“Additionally, all Travelers are to be brought to me alive,” Lorata said. “If your Champions are unable to do so, then I expect you to step in in their place. Eliminating a Traveler should only occur under situations where they may also possess a remnant, and even then only if containment is deemed impossible.” Lorata shot a look at Widengra. “Is that all?”
The god glowered at her. “Yes.”
“Good.” Lorata turned away, flicking a hand over her shoulder. “Dismissed.”
Shirasil briefly considered approaching Lorata to further ingrain his innocence, before thinking better of it. This had been an extremely fruitful day, and he didn’t need to push his luck. He had a new, promising Champion, Widengra’s judgement was in question, he had more opportunities to visit the mortal realm, and on top of it all, Lorata had blatantly ordered the gods to stop killing Travelers.
Of course, that wasn’t going to stop gods with an ax to grind, like Widengra, but it now would hilariously put Shirasil in Lorata’s good graces when he intervened. Rewarded for more meddling. Fantastic!
Shirasil was about to leave as Blair caught his eye. He paused, but she continued to walk as she passed him.
“One chance to prove your integrity,” she said, already moving away. “Then, we’ll talk.”
Ah, how Shirasil loved the young ones. So quick to sing a different tune. It always made dealings with them interesting.
As he left the Hall of the Gods, his surroundings blinked out of existence, and when they blinked back in, the tangible weight of reality settled around him. He was in a forest, not far from a town he’d visited centuries ago. Perhaps he was overdue for another visit.
“Now, let’s see here,” he said, a wind stirring about his feet as he walked. His garb began to leak its black hue, gradually fading to shades of white and green. His hair grew out, and he plucked a pair of dark glasses from the air to rest on his face. “Where shall we visit next?” There were tales of a floating castle in the south. A war brewing in the east. Trouble in Valenia’s capital. So many options—so many areas of interest. How many were likely to involve a Traveler?
Lisarihs adjusted her clothes and ran a hand through her hair, smiling as the sun warmed her skin. “I suppose it doesn’t matter where I start,” she said. “Either way, it’s bound to be fun.”