Mirage’s PoV – Eyrarháls – Mid-morning to mid-afternoon Second Day
The morning had seen the cadre’s compound awash with faithful whose shock had worn off. While the initial surge of Ebusuku’s presence—somehow felt by them—had braced them through the initial aftermath, it fell away after a night’s fitful rest. The words Mirage had heard offered during breakfast in the cadre senior mess hall had stilled the place into silence. Conversations carry the undertone of disbelief drowned under the emotions shared by the captain when she rose to speak. Tears and stifled sobs broke up her account of the light Amdirlain had given back to her. Her words of the hopeless days in the darkness, with prayers for death unanswered, only to gain freedom instead was an experience still known by many there. Her closing words ended in her hope that they would find the strength to use her sacrifice to keep others safe. That none should give in to the likes of the foul beast who’d stolen her away.
The ice of denial melted throughout the morning until sorrow and anger overran their embankments. While sharing their grief with the first group, the cadre’s leaders gave duties to the second and let them channel their emotions. With so many refugees and experience with handling floods of people, they had plenty of work to give out.
The heavy weight of sorrow pressed upon all within the cadre’s compound until some looked ready to drown—women and men alike. Even those not of Amdirlain’s faith who served among them knew that their Deity might be next with the Gods’ War underway. News of the death of Thor and later in the morning Odinn drove the current danger home. If the strongest warriors among the Gods they knew weren’t safe, how safe were they? Those that might have broken and run instead looked to their fellows and drew strength from their unity.
The mourners from each culture showed their pain in different ways. Mirage found the usually neatly groomed Egyptians unkempt with tears running freely down their faces, undecorated by kohl or the other make-up they normally wear. A Norse skald worked a drum for them, with low, slow beats that carried a sound that knifed across the mourners with the wailing they let loose.
More skalds chanted tales of her victories among the Norse, not focused on mourning her loss but celebrating the differences she’d made. When the emotions grew too thick, they brought them up to breathe and laugh, with tales of misunderstandings salted with Moke’s ribald poems that elicited laughter. Yet still, it was laughter edged with grief and pain.
The Romans limited themselves to a shared eulogy, where each shared the difference she’d had made to them. Tears frequently interrupted each tale, and those unable to stay standing on their own found others ready to support them as they spoke.
A quiet gathering of the cadre’s Persians raised a stone memorial solely for her within the original staging post. It was a long block-like structure with a peaked roof that reached three metres above the ground and surrounded by tiers of low steps. The steps led to a candle motif that sent rays across the stone’s darkness. Along the steps’ course, they’d engraved messages of respect and left an offering of food. Those nations with far fewer representatives joined what felt most familiar or sought other ways to mourn.
When moving through buildings between groups, Mirage had to stop to compose herself. Longing for the others who’d been trapped within the Maze burnt through her, bringing forth tears that she couldn’t stop. Her own pain grew and gnawed deep until she reached a point where she just wanted to leave and leaned against a wall with her arms wrapped around her midriff. She’d barely stopped herself from going with a Gate’s Spell form shining temptingly in her mind. The Mortals had their groups—big or small—but their very company left her feeling isolated and with the Oath-Link’s silence. The Domain was shifting, but it didn’t confine Echo or the others. Their voices in messages were insufficient against this emptiness, and she craved the reassurance of their company. The knowledge it was her choice made her crave them even more.
She stood there for long minutes, intently turning over the pattern, an instant from allowing Mana to fill it. The long millennia spent in the maze had never felt so lonely as she felt right then. The certainty that Amdirlain’s acceptance had given crumbled around her, leaving jagged edges of faded memories digging at her again. Though there were Lantern Archons aplenty, she felt desperate to hug any of her friends. Breathing out sharply, she forced the pain to stillness, but the hollowness left behind mocked her.
With that pain taunting her she drifted through the mostly empty buildings that provide a shallow echo of the maze’s stability. Almost, she wanted to hear the hammer’s ringing strikes that would echo through the corridors. Their bright sounds when they dragged on were annoying, but when they first started after a long silence was something else, they’d brought a strange surety: there was something bigger than themselves beyond the maze’s confines. Right then she missed her waterfall, the pressure of plummeting water, the hollow behind it, and her pool, big enough to let a half-dozen of them swim together. It was a lonely but constant place of retreat when things menaced the maze.
Mirage stopped as she heard a little pipping voice bright with tears complaining about the unfairness of her not meeting the lady. Peeking within the dormitory room, she found Eivor sitting on a bunk with her daughter on her lap. Mirage, having met Sigga earlier, would have believed she was the older sister rather than Eivor’s daughter if she hadn’t known better.
Head nestled under her mother’s chin, Eivor rocked Julia back and forth while tears streaming down both their faces. The little girl, around six years old, clasped Amdirlain’s medallion tight, her half-brother, Ipy, nearly a teenager, crouched beside the bunk while he rubbed her back in gentle circles. His expression showed his determination to be brave. The differences might not have been great with their fathers both being Egyptian, but Moke’s Celestial bloodline showed through.
Though Eivor was a solid-featured woman, she possessed a surety and conviction that made it difficult to dismiss her. Even in the domestic scene of her comforting child, to Mirage she fairly blazed with life. Solid jawed, auburn-haired, and the grief settling in hadn’t dulled the forest green of her gaze, it had added more steel within.
Her youngest children looked far different from their mother or older siblings. Both had straight deep-brown hair that fell to their shoulders, and dusky skin instead of a Norse’s fair complexion. Yet Eivor’s Norse blood added a solidity to them despite their lean Egyptian features. It gave both children a strange delicateness that promised steel lay beneath, and while Ipy’s eyes were an ordinary black, Julia’s were bright emerald cat’s eyes.
Eivor looked up and caught Mirage while she was still considering what to do. “Moke should be in the major’s study. He received some unpleasant messages he’s following up on with additional contacts from the area to get details.”
“Thank you,” Mirage said and slipped away, unsure how one comforts a child, but at least Eivor’s words had offered her something to do.
The rest of the morning had disappeared in a rush helping Moke collate information that contained death tolls already in the thousands. Destruction of the palace in Thebes had caused panicked riots to spread throughout the city, leaving many dead. While the Greek Gods had picked off other Egyptian gods with disturbing ease, bands of adventurers were organising to hunt them in return. The ancient Gods of Egypt, it seemed having forced the last war to a peaceful conclusion, had possessed too much confidence about the trouble that had been brewing. From the fights she had heard of, she wondered if that was why she was kept from attacking—because they’d all be dead. The thought of Torm and Livia among them, had her smiling in anticipation.
* * *
Settling into place that afternoon, Mirage shifted nervously as she glanced around the planning table, and Torm rested a hand on her shoulder. The gesture, perhaps automatic, didn’t possess the reassurance it once would have done. A glance at how fixed and hard his expression had become sent shivers through her, with his gaze promising a hard death to someone. It also didn’t help with three Gods in the room, and still not knowing what to make of Mithras. Amdirlain had never spoken of the Roman and Persian Sun God.
“How secure is Eyrarháls?” asked Mithras, dragging her attention back to the new arrival. “The guards seemed well trained, and I noticed more wizards among them than I had expected.”
“It’s certainly more secure than Apollo’s Temple in Crete now,” Aggie said.
“Know you should look at it this way: they’ve now got loose building stones and rubble for building something useful,” Liranë offered. “Know all the council I interrogated there believed they would profit from his failure; their only problem with his plan was they doubted it would bring Amdirlain forth.”
“It was the last disappointment they’ll experience in life,” Aggie blithely added.
“Any lead at all on Apollo?” asked Torm. His tone carried an intensity that caught the attention of both Livia and Týr, who considered him with concern, but he stayed focused on Aggie.
Týr noticing Livia’s attention, gave her a slight nod, but Livia’s concern for Torm’s contained grief didn’t ease.
Aggie shook her head and gestured to the morning’s plunder before her, everything from broaches to staves shining with blessings. “It’s why we stole these.”
“Know for correctness you should use the term procured, or perhaps seized, since there is a war in progress,” interrupted Liranë. “Know that I wouldn’t want the monastery’s Master to become upset with me any further.”
“Oh, no,” affirmed Aggie. “It’s why we procured these. I’m hoping one of them might provide enough of a link to his Mantle to trace his location, either by Arcane or Psionic means.”
Mirage stared at the smug pair before turning back to Mithras, deliberately ignoring the multitude of blessed objects that were already cluttering other tables in the cadre’s main hall.
“Rededication of those items would be easier than their initial creation,” rumbled Fen, not bothered by the power in the items sitting close at hand.
“Back to the question you asked Mithras, while Aggie finishes her fun,” Mirage prompted and swallowed when all three Gods look her way. “Eyrarháls is as secure as we can make it. We’d been training battle wizards for the Jarl to encourage people to sign up for standard pay, even before this occurred. Also, we’ve more Lantern Archons than we’d originally accounted for in our patrol planning. Other temples, like Brina’s, held back support until their scheduled evacuations.“
“We were coming, but we wanted to make sure people got out safe,” injected Runa, ducking partly behind Fen when Mithras looked her way.
Mirage waved reassuringly. “Completely understandable, really. As was Aggie’s expedition this morning without letting anyone know.”
“Lantern Archons will hardly deter anyone,” stated Mithras.
Fen’s rumbling laughter cut him off and pointed to the cut in Runa’s filigree. “Not yours perhaps, but my little shield sister Runa might disagree.”
“Yngvarr and Alfarr are briefing the Jarl on the other information they discovered in the raid,” Aggie mentioned, and Mirage checked she had Yngvarr’s note before nodding in acknowledgement.
Runa shifted position to hover over the map table before Mirage. “I think Aggie might match your rank, at least in this conflict, and it was her choice. After all, she can take aggressive action. What happens if she involves you even in planning her raids? Do we know where that could lead? Do we think they’ll really come to attack? How many soldiers will they send?”
“As many as they feel they need, pup,” murmured Fen, and tapped the southern route. The enormous woman’s hands made Mirage feel small, but Runa reappeared and hovered beside her. “Do you think the Gnomes will complain about any army that comes from the south?”
“Gnomes?” asked Mirage, and Runa, echoing each other.
“A subterranean race, the Dwarves call them the Stonekin. They set a treaty with the first Norse in these lands, certain regions we can travel over but not settle, nor use for conflict,” explained Týr. “If the Greeks do, the Gnomes will likely send a delegation with a demand for compensation to whoever wins since their Gods are staying out of it. Of course, they will word it precisely with all the proper treaty clauses referred to, along with an itemised list of the offences, and breakdown of the weregild required.”
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“The Greeks will just use portals to get close to town, they’ve already hit a few places that way,” Mithras stated, and Mirage couldn’t help but smile smugly.
“That won’t be happening. They can’t get a Portal in close without a ward stone,” replied Mirage. “A friend developed a rune series to empower the ward’s expansion, though it’s currently stopped by natural boundaries.”
Mithras looking over the map gestured to the markers in the grassland north of the woods, and then along a base of hills to the east. “Is that why you have these boundary markers at the edge of the southern woods and hills?”
“Not just for that reason,” Mirage answered, and quickly changed the topic. “Right, my biggest concern is if they opened a Portal and drop a boat right at the docks. The town wards don’t expand beyond the shoreline.”
“What about if they use boats then?” asked Fen, her nose wrinkling at the concept.
“Know that I’ve already set beacons in places that will divert any portals for boats to land on the far shores,” Liranë offered.
“I can see why Týr suggested we come here.” said Mithras. “How can you set such a barrier in place? The ones in Nova Roma can’t individually cover such a space.”
“My Prestige Class is an Arcana Celestial Artisan,” admitted Mirage. “Can I ask why you aren’t securing Nova Roma?”
“Your Lady’s followers started a slave revolt. An Orc that was fighting in the main colosseum turned out to be a Priest; he revealed that quite dramatically when the Gods’ War announcement occurred. His fists were glowing with energy as he ran up the wall, smashing the wards. He slew the Caesar, who’d been in attendance, along with his guards. The other gladiators took their cue from him. Soon the streets were awash with armed slaves, many casting blessings,” replied Mithras.
“I can’t really say I’ve been happy with the amount of slavery I’ve heard about among the people in the southern kingdoms,” stated Mirage, her expression hard. “To be blunt: you didn’t ally with our Lady before, and now you’ve come here increasing our danger. Why should we help protect you?”
“It’s not just the southern nations, the northern lands maintain slavery under different names like the Thralls with the Norse. My influence has nothing to do with slavery, nor do I share your faith’s perspective on it. The sun shines on all living creatures and provides illumination for deeds fair and foul alike. It’s up to individuals to determine how they’ll survive and prosper. The sun needs to warm the land, and ensure life can continue,” Mithras replied, calmly matter of fact. “Or would you prefer Mortals not have time enough to learn the value of others and choice?”
Mirage raised an eyebrow and turned to Týr.
“Sol is already dead, and Mithras has been consistent in his attitude to Mortals, suggesting they search to improve themselves not telling them how. He has broken no law, and I’d prefer Apollo not consume his power as well,” offered Týr, and gave Mirage a smile. “Perhaps you can change his mind about the tenets for his faithful.”
Mirage bit off her retort and smiled as a Message from Ebusuku whispered in her ear and she winced at her instructions to mind the orders given to defend. When less than a minute later Berry’s Message came, she quickly sent her a Message to summarise events. She closed her eyes to let her anger flow away, and the others waited patiently. “The Domain has finished shifting locations. I’ve heard from Ebusuku and a friend. I’m sure they’ll have more questions soon.”
“You refer to your new lady as Ebusuku?” asked Mithras. “I’ve heard some of her priests and priestesses leading prayers using a different name. I hope she takes care that she isn’t summoned as well.”
Runa squealed with laughter and Mirage had to stop and count to ten and then did so again. Yet with Mithras’ words rubbing across open wounds when she tried to speak calmly her words snapped forth. “I will refer to Ebusuku as what she prefers to use for conversation. If you and your ilk had dealt with the Greeks permanently before-”
She cut off as Týr motioned gently for her to calm down. “Ra has paid the price for offering peace so quickly, but the fleet wasn’t large, every vessel was crowded, and many were fragile. If the fighting went on, more of those we cared about would have perished even if we destroyed the Greeks. Peace had indeed seemed the wiser, and truthfully only, course to ensure survival. I wish he and his fellows hadn’t rested on that success.”
“It would have been a victory where it would have been better to have lost,” Livia suggested. As she carefully took another sun symbol from the chest, she paused and held it out to Aggie. “This artifact has an aura.”
“We’ll go test it and see what information we can gather,” Aggie said, and headed towards the cadre’s spell chambers.
As Torm rose, Livia just held out a hand to block his way. “We need to gather information, see where he is and what support he has with him. You’re coiled like a snake waiting to strike.”
“The window to strike might be small, if someone detects it-“
“If they can block us, it could mean we’ll have a fight on our hands attacking him and not one to just charge into. Please don’t rush this, let us gather information. I don’t want to lose you too, Uncle Torm,” rebuffed Livia.
Torm stepped close and kissed her on the forehead before returning to his seat, his expression no less grim for his display of affection. Livia who had held herself ready to move until he turned away, followed quickly after Aggie.
Mirage began briefing them on the town’s defences and where those that accompanied them could provide support. She was barely into it when news washed through the Oath-Link, and they could hear cheering outside in the compound. Her control was a hair from rupturing at her own excitement when voices close by lifted cheering Amdirlain’s name. At the sound, Torm’s gaze snapped towards Mirage, and fixed on the joyful tears streaming past her smile as she started trembling.
“Ebusuku sent news: Amdirlain’s not destroyed; she’s not back, but she’s not destroyed. You’ll have to ask her for more information, that’s all I know. It means there is a hope she can come back to us.”
He almost sagged against the table but catching himself, Torm shuddered and straightened as if a weight had dropped from his shoulders, and Mirage caught Týr’s brief smile of relief. She was still trying to clear the tears flooding her eyes when Torm reached over and gently clasped her hand, tilting his head towards the doorway that lead outside. “Are you sure you don’t need to go tend to them a bit?”
“They’ve got their leadership, and this is important. Let’s ensure everyone in the town stays as safe as we can. I’ve not got to it yet but-”
Mithras turned to regard Týr, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How can Ebusuku communicate to her worshippers this way? It would take a power, above the Lesser rank to do that. She’s not even got the faithful to achieve that rank.”
Despite the intensity of Mithras’ focus, Týr simply nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed, I’ve also not heard of any Power of lesser rank or below performing such a communication to their faithful.”
The next interruption broke her train of thought completely when Farhad stepped into existence from mid-air. Fen’s growl wiped the smiles of greeting away. Everyone’s attention snapped to her, but Týr simply sighed.
“I would prefer you hush, though the lake isn’t far from here if you’d prefer another swim,” Farhad said.
He hadn’t even finished speaking when Fen made to leap across the table. Though her feet cleared it easily, she stopped and floated in mid-air above it.
“Know that your mind is loud with threats Fen, but he is, I believe Master Farhad,” stated Liranë.
Fen struggled to shift position, but a mental rebuke from Liranë had her hold still. “I’m well aware of who he is.”
“I understand you and Verethragna mended things peacefully afterwards. Why do you still hold a grudge against me?” asked Farhad, unconcerned by her reaction.
“He might be a bull-headed idiot, but he wasn’t the one who threw me in the ocean!” roared Fen so loudly her bellow made the table bounce.
“You leapt. I just redirected where you were going to land,” re-joined Farhad, only for a growl to start up from Fen, which elicited another sigh from Týr.
“He’s friendly!” Runa squeaked at the deep growl that escaped Fen. “He taught me to handle Ki, I don’t think my bolt would have injured Odinn without that.”
Runa’s protest stopped the growl and when Fen’s grasping hands relaxed, she floated back to her seat.
“He didn’t resolve the challenge he gave last time,” huffed Fen in a most put out tone. “And he dropped me in waters that had a Kraken in them!”
“It hadn’t shown itself at that point, and you might have sunk the boat you were leaping at despite the Human form you wore,” dismissed Farhad.
Fen pouted and fixed Liranë with a surly look. “If I’d changed into my wolf form, I don’t believe you could have held my weight.”
Liranë lips twitched into something that almost resembled the faintest hint of a smile. “Know then you’d be wrong; to me, you wouldn’t have weighed a thing. Know also that I’m aware you decided it would possess a risk to your mate, given his proximity to your expansion.”
“I still want to resolve his challenge,” Fen grumbled, her body language digging in as she shifted about for something to win.
“Anytime you desire before your Mantle returns to full force—it seems the Gods have grown too dependent upon them. I would have enjoyed watching Amdirlain smash certain Gods into the ground,” Farhad stated. “How many have died so far?”
“Many, fortunately some among the Greeks as well,” answered Mirage.
“Know that Novice Amdirlain was more fun to fight; one kick at Hermes and his legs came off. Know I was most embarrassed that when I ended his misery, I found myself with his Mantle. Did you know it includes worship from thieves?” asked Liranë, her composure unchanged. Turning to Torm, she gave her the barest hint of a nod. “Know that I believe that wherever Novice Amdirlain is she’ll fight tooth and nail to get back to you. Know also that I’ve passed the good news to Master Duurth.”
“It is good that you are in touch with Ebusuku again, and I agree with Mirage. We need now to focus on keeping people safe. These days are leaving plenty of people in dire straits,” Týr suggested, changing the subject before the exchange could go further. “Now Mirage, we’re aware you can only defend.”
“It doesn’t mean that we can’t help in other ways and if they attack us, then we’re defending ourselves. In the meantime, we can scout locations, guide people to safety, and we’ve got wizards who can handle continuous portals,” countered Mirage, and motioned outside. “Also, the rule about defending only applies to the Celestials, so if they’re accompanying other Priests or faithful as bodyguards, we’ll be fine.”
“What have they been doing?” Mithras asked.
“Things,” Mirage said. Her tight smile made it clear she wouldn’t say more on the subject.
When Aggie and Livia came back, Aggie looked divided on what they’d discovered. With a sigh she set down a crystal mirror the size of her torso and laid the sun disc they’d taken with them on top of it. “We found him, and he has Artemis with him. Did another God die recently?”
“Baldur,” sighed Týr, “Artemis killed him.”
“My condolences,” replied Aggie. “If I’m right, they were sacking temples in a town northeast of here. Greek troops routed the town guard. I’d have hoped for better, but they’re travelling with enough troops to crush villages and most towns. Apollo isn’t looking healthy, and I believe I know why he’s chasing after Gods.”
As soon as Aggie paused, Mithras got in before anyone else spoke. “What’s your theory?”
“The Yin tornado we saw in the crystal. She was filling the circle with Yin Mana so his Sigil would drain it. She’d tried all those spells, and then covered herself and the floor with Yin. The Sigil must have been absorbing Mana. Did she find the Sigil had a limit and sought to block it or was she trying to feed him enough to kill him before he got wise? But anyway, the Sigil absorbed the Yin. He’s trying to warm up,” stated Aggie, and considered Torm a moment. “You’ll not run off if I show you?”
“No, I have nothing to prove, and it seems I should prepare myself for some more waiting,” Torm stated, giving Aggie a worried smile that she was quick to acknowledge. “I believe working together is best to achieve our common goals.”
At his words, Farhad’s focus shifted into the distance, and he murmured softly to himself. “What is the greater Law?”
“Pardon?” Aggie asked, and when he didn’t response turned her attention to Torm. “It’s good you think so because the Greeks already do that. There is at least one other God with them.”
“How could you tell? I’ve spoken to Mortals since I got here, and they’ve not known my identity unless I’ve told them. I don’t know how the Mortals identified the other Gods to kill,” interjected Mithras.
“I’d suggest they’ve likely given themselves away,” responded Livia. “And it’s not how Aggie can tell but how I can. From the crests we’ve got Artemis travelling with Apollo, but there could be more. Liranë, I hope you’re still open to helping.”
Liranë nodded, and Aggie cast her scrying spell. The image showed a blond, once-handsome man who seemed wasted away. Lumps of blackness distort his classical Greek features as they crawl under his skin, leaving skin blackened with frost, and capillaries bulging nearly to bursting point in their wake. The bags under his rime coated eyes gave his face a sunken, hollow look, and emphasised the almost skeletal appearance of the man. Speaking to someone standing outside the image, every breath caused plumes to frost the air.
Aggie shifted the mirror’s focus to further out, showing troops stepping over the bodies of the fallen and tossing canisters into the closest Temple. Where each ruptured, the white-hot flame burned through the stonework. A golden-haired woman carrying a pure white bow came closer to Apollo, her classic features calm even though hostility burned in Apollo’s gaze. Wearing hunting leathers, she moved with poise and grace, and her fingertips rested an arrow on the string as if ready to draw.
“Artemis,” declared Livia, and Aggie nodded, her gaze narrowing with distaste.
“I’d like to deal with her, and Torm can have Apollo. Everyone else focuses on killing the murdering bastards with them, if there aren’t other Gods about,” stated Aggie.
“Unless you want his Mantle Torm, I’ll come along to bait him, and add some spells in,” offered Mithras. “He might be desperate for my Mantle which will hopefully give you a greater advantage. Unless you’ve objections to stabbing him in the back?”
Torm shook his head and motioned to the image of Apollo. “The priority is for him to die. As for the Mantle, I’ve my duties to attend to. You can have it with pleasure. I only hope it’s not poisonous. But what if you die?”
“Then give it to Belinos among the Gaul, or Arinna of the Hittites. I’d trust either of them to look for a way towards peace,”
“As would I,” added Týr. “Though both would be more likely to work for a better position first rather than focus on peace foremost.”
“The edges of his Mantle’s aura are clean, but veins of darkness are within his aura,” stated Livia.
Aggie looked between Livia and Liranë. “As soon as he dies, or even if you think he’s going to die, try to Teleport him straight up.”
“Yin?” asked Torm.
“If he has been getting anything from the Gods, then it’s likely he’s been gaining more power. Even if he hadn’t, it’s still been eating whatever strength he possesses,“ replied Aggie. “You don’t stop Yin by choking it, you need to leave it with nothing to consume nearby, so once he’s dead, it might eat him and everything close.”
“Know that I’ll look to slow his movements, and prevent any teleporting during the fight, perhaps best I handle teleporting him away,” stated Liranë.
“That would be useful to keep him off me. I’d prefer not to get eaten. Would you move the focus to show the town? We should scry the town, but I suggest we act quickly, given there may be people still within the buildings they seem intent on burning,” said Mithras. At Mirage’s curious look, he gave her a bland smile. “People can’t see the light of any kind if their eyes are closed in death.”