Chapter 16: Journey’s End
The golem felt the return of the demigod and took note.
Emotions weren’t really a factor in its thinking, but it did have priorities, drives, an impetus behind its actions. It could recognize events and developments that made those goals easier or more difficult. It could then select courses of action based upon them.
As such the construct felt a sensation that could vaguely akin to relief when if became aware of the demigod’s return. His return meant that fewer future resources needed to be devoted to tracking or monitoring him. His proximity made the mission of the golem that much easier.
It was not yet fully returned to functionality, and it still had not yet completed its deliberations on how its mission status stood in regard to the demigod that had inadvertently given it the energy needed to commence its repairs. All it had determined so far was that the winged young man was important, a priority.
Whether that was a priority target, obstacle, asset, or danger had still not yet been determined. The information it had was insufficient for a conclusion to be reached. After its full mobility and strength were restored it could begin to gather that information. Then it would determine its mission in its totality.
Standing as immobile as it had for the past few weeks the golem continued its slow approach to restoration.
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I could tell there was something . . . different as soon as I came into sight of the Hallowed Sanctuary. As someone that was keyed to it, someone it recognized as authorized to leave and enter it, I could easily see it from outside. To me it appeared as a massive transparent dome that would almost look like it was made of glass, save for a faint golden tinge to it. In the setting sun of the early evening it made for quite the pleasant sight, sort of like a second sun dipping beneath the horizon ahead of the other. Well, if you looked at it with your eyes half shut anyway.
Still, as I drew closer I felt there was something off. Before there had been a feeling of security, of safety to the huge dome. But as I got closer it seemed more fragile than it had been, almost delicate. I found myself wondering if Joan and Hadriel had somehow gotten the date that it would fall wrong, and that it would be happening in the next few hours, rather than in a couple of days.
I came to a stop, hovering high enough that I was about even with the top of the dome. It was strange, as early as this very morning flying this high would have been enough to make my head spin and my heart to hammer, but now . . . Well, I did have to swallow to moisten my suddenly dry throat, but that was so much less than I had felt before that it was almost nothing. Still, as awesome a development as this was I pushed it to the back of my mind and concentrated on examining the farmstead.
I couldn’t spot anything wrong, nothing that could account for my sudden certainty that something was not right. I could see the buildings, I could see the area around them. I could see the additions I’d made to the area, and I could even see the remains of the golem close to the burnt crater where my failed awakening had taken place. Despite me looking everywhere everything seemed to be as it should be. There were no craters or burn marks, at least no new ones anyway. No hints of fighting or disruption. Everything looked just as it was when I left.
As I came closer to my chosen landing spot I kept on scanning the area, but found nothing that could explain my unease. It was getting to the point where I was wondering if it was just a trick of my tired mind. Had this whole day been so harrowing that I couldn’t just accept that it was over? Was I conjuring up ghosts to jump at simply because I was too wound up to relax? No, even as the thought occurred to me, I dismissed it.
I realized that I had paused in mid-air, stopping my descent as my thoughts had turned inwards. It made me realize that I must be more tired than I thought, if just a drift in my chain of thought was enough to make me stop like that. I needed some rest, that was the simple truth.
Admitting it to myself made me feel a bit better. It was a reason for my unfounded suspicions, a reason I was feeling off, I was just dead tired. As I started to go down once more, I began to make a mental list of things I had to do before I could go and collapse on my bed. I’d have to talk to Joan and Hadriel, that was a given. I didn’t have to give them a total in-depth blow-for-blow account, but I should at least let them know the bare bones of how things had turned out. Maybe show them the two pieces of metal, see if they knew what they were. More than that though . . . I just wanted to get some sleep.
But tomorrow . . . tomorrow I was going to grill them both until all my questions had been answered!
I aimed to come down in the main drive in front of the farmhouse, setting down on the gravel where cars would have parked if they ever came here. It was a nice wide area, so I could come down without having to fold my wings first. It also let me enter the farmstead through the front door, which would make the trip to my room and my shower a little shorter. It was only because I came down there that I was able to see into the large store shed that had been renovated into a garage. Someone had done a shoddy job in installing the new door, because it tended to come half undone in any sort of strong wind. It didn’t really matter since no one used the garage, but it was one of the things I’d noticed while looking around the place.
It was because of that half open door that I could see into it as I came down, the light of the setting sun going in at just the right angle to reflect of something that hadn’t been there when I left.
It was a motorbike, one of those big ones that make you think of roaring down a desert with the sun coming up behind it. It had the same look, the same feel to it as the legendary Harley Davidson, even if it wasn’t one. When I looked at this bike, I could easily imagine it being ridden by a Hells Angel style biker, one that looked like they lived on a steady diet of red meat, caffeine, beer, and steroids.
Quite simply, this looked like the bike of a bad ass!
So, why it was in this garage? The Hallowed Sanctuary was still up, so nobody should have been able to even find this place, let alone enter it. Well, I supposed that Joan or Hadriel could have left and come back, but I hardly saw either of them as the type to go out and get a tricked-out motorcycle. And that begged the question; where had it come from?
“Adam”
My eyes were pulled from the garage to the front door of the farmhouse. The door that was now open and filled with a concerned looking Joan. She was dressed in her casual clothes, but even so I was suddenly painfully aware of my own ragged and dirty state. Nervously I scratched the side of my head while offering a sheepish grin.
“Hi Joan. Things . . . were a bit tougher than I was expecting.”
She just blinked at me, taking in not simply my appearance, but the nuances as well. I could see her focus in on where my clothing had been torn by fangs and claws, where blood had dried on me. I could see her eyes narrowing as she took it in, reading the story it told her of what sort of things I’d had to deal with.
“Are you hurt?”
She asked the question as she stepped out of the doorway, striding over the gravel until she was directly in front of me.
“No,” I assured her, holding up a hand palm out to keep her from giving me healing I didn’t need. “I’m just tired. Things got complicated, lots of stuff happened. Right now I need a shower and some sleep, but once I’ve got myself feeling like a person again we’ve got to talk.”
I stepped past her, my wings already folding in so I could step through the doorway. I was internally bemoaning how food didn’t really do anything for me, since something sweet might have managed to give me enough energy to talk to them tonight, when a hand on my shoulder stopped me in mid-step.
“I am sorry, but there are matters that cannot wait,” Joan sounded apologetic, but her voice remained firm all the same. “While you were gone, we received . . . visitors.”
I blinked, turning to face her, my confusion clear on my face.
“What d’you mean?”
The resurrected saint opened her mouth to say something, but a muffled unfamiliar voice spoke from behind me, causing me to turn in place. The feminine voice was faint from distance, but I could still make it out clearly enough.
“So, he has arrived?”
Coming around the far side of the farmhouse was Hadriel, but she wasn’t alone. Two unfamiliar figures followed her, though with the setting sun just behind them I couldn’t make them out. It would normally have been easy to channel a little light magic into myself to keep from being dazzled, but I simply didn’t have the energy. Instead, I waited for them to enter the shadow of the farmstead, turning back to face Joan as they approached.
“We have . . . guests,” She explained. “It would seem that when you left the Sanctuary there were those that were able to sense you and used that knowledge to uncover our location. They were unable to break into the Sanctuary, but they were able to convince both myself and honoured Hadriel that they meant no harm.”
Okay, I could feel a bit of nervousness starting to grow in my stomach. Hadriel had been more than happy to educate me on the nature of the Hallowed Sanctuary, so I knew how powerful a spell it was. Entire armies of powerful beings could have thrown themselves against it, and all they would accomplish would be to harm themselves. And its stealth abilities, the power to keep what was within hidden from prying eyes, was second only to that defensive power. That these guests had been able to find it, even if it was with help from me, made it sound like they were powerful.
“So, what do they want?”
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I asked the question as I heard the approaching voices of the newcomers. It didn’t sound as though they had spotted me yet, so I had time to get at least a little preparation in.
“They wish to talk to you,” Joan replied, her voice low and intense. “They have ties to your progenitors and have come seeking alliance or friendship. They have sworn binding oaths that they mean you no harm, we would not have allowed them into the Sanctuary otherwise, but do not take them lightly. They have not yet told us exactly what they wish to speak on. They said they shall speak only to you.”
“Ah, is that him?”
The voice spoke out, much closer now, and both I and my guardian started to turn. As we did so Joan said one last thing, her voice pitched low so only I could hear it.
“They did not come together, each of them is here for their own reasons, they simply arrived at the same time by chance.”
I gave a small nod, acknowledging what I’d heard, then turned my attention to the trio approaching us. Hadriel stood in the middle, the newcomers on each side of her. As normal the red winged angel was hovering a few inches off the ground, but even so the two women beside her still stood taller than her.
And what women they were. I felt my eyes widen as I took in the sight of these newcomers, doing my best to suppress an urge to gawk like some teenager being hit by puberty for the first time.
Both of the figures before me were breathtakingly beautiful, but it was in almost completely different ways.
The woman on the left was dressed in something that made me think of a toga, but which was more elaborate than the relatively simple ones that were known from statues and art. It hugged her closely, highlighting the figure it covered, and was mainly white, and edged in vivid blue. She also had a long silk shawl or scarf that ran down from her left shoulder to her right hip, then up her back and over her left shoulder again. It was pinned there with a golden brooch shaped like an owl’s head, the end of the cloth falling forwards to her knees. It was an odd look, but it was also dignified, like a flag or standard.
Still, as eye-catching as her clothes were, they had nothing on the woman who wore them.
Just from looking at her it was clear that she was anything but ordinary. First off, she was tall, very tall. I’d never been a short guy, and after my Awakening I’d gained a couple of inches, so I was now a little over a full six feet tall. Even so this woman stood a full head taller than me, my eyes more or less on level with the hollow of her throat as she stepped forward. If I had to guess I’d have put her at six foot nine, maybe even a full seven feet tall.
Not that it looked bad on her, far from it in fact. She was beautiful in a way that I was coming to associate with supernatural beings, but even Hadriel, the most gorgeous person I’d ever met in person, was eclipsed by her.
Still, her looks were of a different type. The red winged angel was beautiful, but this woman had a more . . . refined look to her, an appearance that spoke of sophistication as well as strength. Her bare arms were clearly toned and strong, despite their slender form, and the clothes that she wore hinted at a figure that was both athletic and alluring without being either deliberately seductive or vulgar. Her skin was fair but filled with vitality.
Her face and features were every bit as perfect as the rest of her, a face that could only be described as ‘aristocratic’ being framed by long dark blonde hair. Grey eyes were in turn framed with long lashes and topped by thin and sharp eyebrows. Her mouth was a perfect cupid’s bow, her lips a shade that I couldn’t tell if it was makeup or just natural. I couldn’t even try to guess her age, there was a vitality and freshness that spoke of youth, but also a maturity and refinement that spoke of life lived. All of her features came together to form a face that I could imagine inspiring anything form devotion, to obsession.
More than that, she was not simply beautiful, she was also flawless, in a very literal sense of the word. I could see nothing that marred her loveliness, not a mole anywhere on her skin, not a hint of a scar, or suggestion of a wrinkle. No dry skin, nor any sort of roughness or discolouration, there wasn’t even a hint of any of them.
. . . just like me.
The thought rose up even as my eyes took her in again. After my Awakening my body had been idealized, every imperfection removed, and all my features brought to the pinnacle of what they could be. This woman had something similar, though some part of me was certain that this wasn’t what she had become, rather it was what she had always been.
However, beyond her mere physical appearance there was more to her, something that made it impossible to mistake her for just a tall and beautiful woman.
Magic seemed to hover around her in an invisible aura. It was thick in the air, but at the same time it wasn’t oppressive. It was also different to either of my guardians’. Joan’s power was light, something I could only sense when I had my halo out. When I could perceive it, her power always felt clean and bright to me, a reflection of both her personality and the light magic she could use. By contrast Hadriel’s was more . . . wild, more violent, even though it was also tightly controlled. The crackle of lightning and the ring of steel sounded from her power just as clearly as the light of Heaven shone from her.
The aura of the woman before me was . . . confusing. Some of it felt light, lighter than air, lighter than sunshine, but indescribably complex at the same time. There was also a sense of hardness, but it came in so many types that it was hard to get a grip on it. I could feel the metallic hardness of steel, the more rigid toughness of stone, as well as wood, bone, and others that I didn’t even recognise. There was also the softness of cloth, the crinkle of something like paper, and the tinkle of gemstones hitting each other. It was all a confusing and strange mess, but over it all was a sense of iron control and unyielding . . . wisdom, that was the only word I could think of to describe it.
And above all else, she was powerful!
That aura of her power . . . even as tightly controlled as it was, I could feel it pressing against my own presence, and there was no doubt in my mind of which would yield if push came to shove. The only time I’d ever felt anything stronger than this had been when I caught a glimpse of the titan Typhon in that vision.
As for the other woman, she was far more attention grabbing, despite the many similarities that they shared.
The figure on the right wasn’t quite as tall, but she still stood at least a handspan taller than me. Unlike the other woman she was clad in more modern clothes, leather biker pants and a well-worn yellow tank top. Her feet were sheathed in leather boots, that seemed to be more practical than decorative, since they were visibly worn down and had flat soles rather than killer heels.
Her figure was more obviously athletic, corded muscles moving under her bare skin and pressing against her close-fitting clothes, but it was also generous. Both her hips and her breasts were full and taut, the kind of body that would be found in a Victoria’s Secret catalogue. She also had apparently no problem with showing it off, because her top was tight, tight enough for me to clearly see that she neither wore a bra, nor apparently needed one.
Her face matched her body, she was just as beautiful as the other woman, though in a distinctly different way. Her skin was dark even darker than my own, and her hair was black as a midnight sky. It was also styled into a cascade of coils, rather then the smooth flow of the first woman. Some of it was woven into tight and long braids held by rings at their ends, while other parts of her hair hung loose, curling freely down her back. Her face was less . . . refined than the first woman but was in no way inferior. Her features were more earthy, almost sensual, with full lips and dark eyes in a heart-shaped face. Just like the other woman she had a certain agelessness to her, looking as though she could have been anywhere from barely a year or two older than me, to even in her early forties.
I noted that small golden hoops hung from her earlobes, and I could see a trio of small golden rings hanging from the upper edge of her left ear. The jewellery seemed almost out of place, but still served to highlight her features rather than distract from them.
The combination of features, body, and clothes made her not simply beautiful, it made her smoking hot!
And just like the other woman power hung heavy around her, a thick aura that I was sure even the most magically insensitive mortal would have been able to feel. However, unlike the other woman this power didn’t feel light, instead it felt . . . restrained.
I blinked as I felt it, a sense that what my magic was conveying to me was nothing more than the outer layer of her power, a mere skin. But that skin wasn’t sitting there, it was holding back pressure, immense, overwhelming pressure. No, it wasn’t a skin, it was a dam! A dam that held back enormous amounts of . . . something, I couldn’t tell what. What I was sure about was that whatever was being restrained was in no way passive. It was roiling behind that dam, churning and seething with power I couldn’t get my head around. I couldn’t sense it, not directly, but I knew that it was there, could sense its echoes through the force that restrained it.
My eyes darted up and met those of the black-haired woman, and despite the distance still separating us I could read her with eerie certainty. She knew I had sensed something of the power she was holding in, and more than that, she knew I knew she knew. He lips drew back in a small smile, and one eye closed in a brief wink.
Then the crushing feeling of straining power was gone. Her aura remained, I could tell she was powerful, vastly so, maybe even stronger than the first woman, but that feeling of strain, of barely held back force, it had disappeared like a dream after waking.
I supposed that if I wanted to describe them as simply as I could then I would have said the first woman was a stunning stateswoman, then the second was hot bad girl. It was a juvenile way to categorize them, but my excuse was that I was tired, I was sore, and I was not expecting to face such beauties out of nowhere.
“So . . . was the mud and blood a fashion choice? Because I can tell you, it really works for you, in my opinion.”
The dark-haired woman’s voice was as dark as the rest of her appearance, slightly throaty, definitely attractive. For some reason I found myself thinking of chocolate, if her voice was a food then it would have been rich milk chocolate.
“Ah . . . no,” I tried to gather my wits to reply. “No, I . . . I’ve just been in a fight. Things . . . things got out of hand and I got more banged up than I was expecting.”
“You have been in battle? What manner of foe did you face? Some sort of beast?”
This time it was the first woman who spoke, her voice regal, sophisticated, a slight accent to it that I couldn’t quite place.
“It . . . it was a demigod, actually,” I replied hesitantly, my eyes darting between them, then looking to Hadriel who was wearing a blank expression. “He was out of control, but I managed to fix him.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to yank them back. They didn’t need to know that! Etienne didn’t need others knowing about him, not when he wanted to be alone. I mentally floundered, trying to think of something to say, anything! But nothing came to mind, my thoughts almost feeling fuzzy. Tired, I was just too damned tired for this!
“Oh, so you’ve had your first real fight then?” The dark-haired woman stepped forward, her eyes raking me in a way that made feel naked before her, but also kind of flattered at the same time. “You don’t move like a loser, so I’m guessing that you came out of it as the winner then. Did you have to beat this other demigod into submission before you could fix him?”
Her tone was cheerful, but there was a hungry undertone to her words, an excitement and bloodthirst that I was only seeing the edges of. I also noted that unlike Joan or Hadriel this woman spoke less formally, her speech showing clear familiarity with the English language, rather than their perfect but stiff knowledge of it.
“We can speak of such matters at some later point, there are more urgent matters for us to concern ourselves with at this time.”
The first woman spoke before I could reply, her voice commanding and tinged with impatience. It wasn’t harsh, but something about it was the final straw on the camel’s back, and I felt something give in me. Before anyone could say anything else, I held up a palm in a halting gesture, the movement sharp enough to draw attention.
“Look,” I said, doing my best to stay as calm as I could, but unable to keep a tinge of irritation from entering my voice. “I’m sure that why ever you’ve come here is important, but you’ve waited for me to get back here, so can you wait another few minutes?”
The dark-haired woman grinned, while the grey-eyed woman frowned slightly and opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off by speaking first.
“Look, right now I’m dirty, sore, and don’t even have clothes that are in one piece. I’m sure you can spare me at least a few minutes so that I don’t look like I’m about to fall over, alright?”
I phrased it as a question, but I didn’t even wait for an answer, instead I just turned and strode into the farmhouse, not even looking back. I could certainly have been more diplomatic about it, that was for sure, but at that precise moment I just couldn’t bring myself to care. The scarier one of the newcomers seemed to be more amused than offended by my attitude, and that was enough for me.
I might not be able to get the sleep I desperately wanted, but I was not going to face anything else until I had had a shower and put on a fresh change of clothes. Once that was done, I’d at least be ready to face whatever these two wanted while not feeling like I’d lost a fight with a gravel lorry.