Brin reluctantly entered the temple of the gods in Hammon’s Bog. He immediately felt the urge to leave again before something crazy happened, but schooled himself. He couldn’t keep avoiding this.

The temple was still dingy only three days after the battle. Mud still crisscrossed the polished marble floor from when they’d urgently packed in everyone that could fit after the undead had broken through the walls of the town. There were big spots of dried black ooze where the people hit by Siphani’s curse had lay for many days. He even saw smears of blood on the walls, and he didn’t know where that had come from. The fighting hadn’t reached the temple. Maybe they’d brought the wounded here after the battle? Or maybe blood had rubbed off of the people bringing in the dead.

It was no wonder that Ellion hadn't had the time to get the temple clean. He was probably busy with a thousand different things. Despite the priest's absence, the temple wasn't empty. Brin sat on the pews in front of the altar, and he wasn't alone. A few dozen townspeople were scattered here and there, heads bent in prayer, many dressed in black with tears running clear lines down dirty faces.

Ellion entered the chamber from the door to the side, and to Brin's surprise, crossed the room and sat down directly next to him. The priest looked rough. Sweat stained his fine robes and the rings under his eyes were dark pits. Brin had always thought Ellion looked younger than he seemed, but now he looked like he’d aged a decade. He probably hadn't slept a single hour in the last three days, but somehow he still had the same easy, patient smile.

"Oh, no, I didn't want to bother you," said Brin. "You probably have a hundred things to do right now."

"And after I help you, it’ll be ninety-nine. Though I might start by noting that you look fairly weary. Have you slept at all since the battle? Rebuilding is important, but not so urgent that you should sacrifice your health for it."

Brin snorted, because that was exactly what he'd been thinking about Ellion. Then he sighed. "I've tried. I'm having nightmares."

"Ah. Same," said Ellion.

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. We lost many friends, and witnessed many horrors, and I'm not made of steel. It will take time for this to heal."

Brin leaned forward, putting his face in his hands. "Thanks. It's good to hear I'm not the only one. But that's not what I was hoping to ask you about. I guess I'm just confused. I got a System message that I didn't understand."

Ellion gave a small chuckle. "See, that's why I picked you out first. When you said you were confused, I expected you to say something like 'How could this happen to us? Why did so-and-so have to die?'"

Brin gave a wry smile. "Oh, I'd love an answer to that, too, if you're offering."

Ellion shook his head. "Sadly not."

"Figures. I bet if I asked Solia and she actually answered, the answer would be something so big and complex that it would split my brain in half. I don't think we're capable of understanding the gods. Best we can do is realize that they understand us perfectly well and hope they aren’t jerks."

Ellion nodded his head. "I expect I'll give many here an answer very near to that when they ask, though perhaps not in such irreverent terms."

Brin suddenly realized that they weren't even close to alone here, plenty of people were within earshot. "Sorry!" He noticed now that one large [Farmer] was shaking with suppressed laughter.

Ellion noticed too, and smiled, then looked back to Brin. "Now. Tell me about this System message that troubles you."

Brin scratched the back of his head. "Um..."

"You're among friends here. No one will speak of things they ought not. But if it worries you...” He held up a small white feather and rubbed it between his fingers, grinding it to dust. “There. No one can hear us now.”

Brin believed him, but just to see how it worked, he made a beep with [Call Sound through Glass] and felt the magic disappear before it could leave the space around him. He felt a small thrill; he’d never actually seen the priest use one of his abilities so openly before. "I got an update to my [Filial Piety] Achievement. It says that I can advance the Achievement by completing Missions," said Brin.

Ellion stroked his chin. "Unusual. Not Quests?"

"It specifically says Missions," said Brin. "But that's not what's strange. I got a notification just before that. It said, [Let me see here. There may be something I can do for you, Mark.] Now, I know that multiple entities can communicate through the System, because I've gotten messages explicitly from Solia and others from Anshar. But this voice didn't sound like either. This sounds a lot like some of the messages I got right after I woke up in this world. Do you know who was talking to me?”

"Hm. I might. And the Missions? What are they?"

"I'm supposed to tell my half-siblings how my birth father died, and I'm supposed to free my birth mother. Or kill her. Free her by killing her. She was a [Witch] who rebelled against Arcaena, and they forced her to turn herself into a monster."

"Ah. That clears things up to some degree. The gods rarely interfere this overtly in the lives of men. They are quick to act when offended, as you saw when Anshar punished you for repenting of your thievery. They're also quick to act to balance the effects of their own actions, or the actions of other gods, as you saw when Solia returned the power that Anshar confiscated."

"But Solia did all sorts of other things for me. She gave me [Know What's Real] and the System Quest," countered Brin.

"That chain of events starts with Aberthol, and everything else proceeds from there. She gave Aberthol a choice, to return or move on, and he chose to move on. It would not have been right to let his body become host to some great evil, so she gave his empty body a human soul, your soul. It wouldn't have been right to let you die immediately, before you even realized the second chance you'd been given, so she gave you [Know What's Real]. Then you killed some undead and the System confiscated your experience, but that wasn't right because you needed that power to survive and it wasn't your fault you were alone in the midst of a murderous army. Therefore, a System Quest was applied on your behalf. All of that proceeds from Aberthol's choice."

"Then how does [Filial Piety] message fit in?"

"I don't know. You should meditate on this, should you choose to proceed. One other thing. Consider this question: Pretending that you were forced to transform yourself into a mindless beast, what type of monster would you choose?"

Brin wanted to shrug off the question as a useless hypothetical, but this was Ellion asking so he gave it some thought. He didn't know if he had a good answer, so he brainstormed out loud. "Something powerful, I guess. Something cool, like a dragon or a griffin. I would also want to make it so I can eat something normal so I'd have a chance at living a long life out in the wild. Or maybe I'd do the opposite? I can't say I love the idea of being mindless. Maybe I'd try to make myself as ridiculous as possible in the hopes I'd be killed quickly. No, honestly, I don't think that's it. I know the rule is I have to be mindless, but I think I'd do everything I could to find a loophole. Maybe a monster that could eventually evolve back into sanity? Maybe hide my consciousness somehow. I don't know if it's possible, but I would try."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Then consider that as well, should you attempt to hunt your mother.”

“Are you saying she might have actually kept her mind?”

“I’m saying she would try. I have one last piece of advice. If you'd like to hear it?"

Brin stared at the ground for a moment, feeling cold. Then he realized Ellion was waiting for an answer. "Oh. Right. Yeah. I'd love to hear it."

"Don't go right away. Take some time. Heal, and rest. Work on your glass. Don't embark on this journey until you're ready."

Brin stood. "I will. Thanks, Ellion. Although I have to say, I'm going to go crazy thinking about all the terrible things that Aberthol's psychotic mother might've turned herself into. Nothing about that is going to help my nightmares."

"Nor mine," Ellion said with a wry smile.

“Oh, by the way,” Brin said, still standing, “you never told me who sent those messages. Do you know?”

“Below the major gods are the nine minor gods. Below them are the godlings. The one you know is Tenerer,” said Ellion.

“Just like that? You just knew that on the top of your head?”

“I was given some amount of direction concerning you. You remember,” said Ellion.

Brin shivered. “I do. So is there something I can do for Tenerer? A… I don’t know, burnt offering or something?”

“We do not pray to the godlings directly. But it would be fitting to direct prayers through him as an intermediary. Prayers to Solia, for example,” Ellion said carefully.

“Alright. Tell me what to do,” said Brin.

Ellion crooked an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

“Well, I’ve been giving it some thought. Solia is clearly real. So what should I do with that? Just ignore it because I was raised differently? Lately, it’s started to feel like hubris to expect that the same God can’t express himself differently in a different world. If he can be a lion in Narnia, then he can be a Pantheon here on Bogworld. Or whatever it’s called. Actually what is it called? What’s the name of this planet?”

“Bogworld,” said Ellion seriously.

“Shut up,” said Brin.

Ellion smiled. “Earth. Everyone calls their own planet Earth.”

“How do you know that?”

“Out of the two planets I know of that are populated by humans, they both call themselves Earth,” said Ellion.

“Fair enough.” He sat back down. “So where do we start?”

“I can teach you some intercessory prayers, and then perhaps you might lend yourself to some reading. Your openness is commendable, but one should know exactly who one is praying to.”

Ellion only had to do each one once. Brin didn’t need to memorize anything now; [Memories in Glass] would store the memories for them. He’d also rifled through Ellion’s library, moving his eyes over the words of his scriptures so that he’d be able to read them later at his convenience. He had found a section on Tenerer.

The godling had been an [Arcanist] in life, someone whose Class focused on understanding the secrets of magic. [Arcanists] observed magic rather than casting it, but somehow he’d gotten up to level one-hundred and four and then ascended.

Ascension. It wasn’t just a hazy concept. In this world, it was a real thing that happened.

Leaving the temple, Brin felt… not exactly better. He was still in shock from all the pain and death, and sort of in a fog of weariness from days of uneasy sleep. But he felt more directed, like he had something to move towards again. He had a monster to defeat. He had a reason to get stronger.

No one spoke to him as he made his way out of town. The townsfolk still moved with the frantic energy of people who, if they stopped and sat down for just one moment, didn’t know if they’d be able to find the will to stand back up again. He had to dodge out of the way of a [Woodsman] who was hauling his own lumber for once, too impatient with whatever he was doing to let the pre-System children do it for attribute training. He had ten big beams stacked up into the air, way more weight than raw stats could account for.

Down the street, there was no gate to go under and no walls to cross. It was still strange to him that no one challenged him as he left town and moved down the road into the forest.

He found Lumina in front of Hogg’s. She was staring up into the clouds with an inscrutable expression, but she opened up into a wide smile when she noticed him approaching. The smile was somehow both forced and genuine.

“Hello, Brin.” She was trying, she really was, and Brin felt for her. On the one hand, they were legally mother and son, and Brin could tell she really wanted to act out that role, to be something for him, to love him the way a mother should. On the other hand, they were near strangers, and that wasn’t a hurdle you could overcome in one day or three.

Every conversation had been forced cheeriness, and he couldn’t seem to find a way to break the awkwardness. He couldn’t find a way to create a bond, other than the mutual desire to already have one.

“Hey, Lumina! I was wondering… do you think you could show me how to shoot glass bullets?”

“I suppose I could. Let me see.” She raised her hands in the air, and he saw faint sparks of power as she began to move her magic. “I don’t have direct access to glass, but if I… and then… ok, I have it.” His ears reverberated as she began to speak in the language, but the power she summoned wasn’t enough to actually hurt. “"

A ball of black appeared in her hand. A small flame erupted from it as it cycled between colors, red, purple, black again, before gradually becoming clear. When she was done, she held a fist-sized glass ball, one that he could actually sense as glass with his own magic.

She held the ball between two fingers and then released it into the air, where it floated. She picked up her staff and then pointed at the glass ball. “"

At her command, the ball shot off. It moved so fast that Brin would’ve said it disappeared, if not for the tree up the road whose trunk suddenly exploded. It fell to the earth with a crash.

“Stop blowing up the trees!” Hogg shouted from inside the house. “I don’t want to live surrounded by stumps!”

Lumina tossed her hair, completely unapologetic. “Will that do?”

Brin’s eyes went wide. “I’d say so. Let me try.”

The hardest part would be the Language. Even knowing the words wasn’t quite enough, because you had to say them in exactly the right way, with the right intent. But he only had to get them right once, after that, [Memories in Glass] would let him reproduce it every time he tried.

“

“Stop,” said Lumina.

“What’s wrong?” said Brin.

Lumina didn’t answer for a moment. She stood there, frowning, then bit her lip. Finally, she shook her head. “You need to specialize. You can’t keep pretending that you’ll do it all. You seem to want to use magic, but in every fight you’re always right up in the action with a sword, or from what I hear, more often a knife. What path will you take? [Mage] or [Warrior]?”

“[Mage],” Brin answered without hesitation.

“Are you only saying that because an [Archmage] stands before you? What would you say if Galan were here instead of me?”

“[Warrior],” Brin said shamelessly.

Lumina didn’t laugh.

“In all honesty, I’d rather be a [Mage] if I could only choose one,” Brin admitted. “Magic is amazing, and war is horrible. But war keeps happening to me, so I train to be ready for it. There’s an expression. Better to be a [Warrior] in a garden than a [Gardener] on a battlefield.”

“Hm. I like that. Where did you hear it?”

“Just, um, somewhere.”

“Then let me tell you this. I don’t study magic because I have to. I didn’t choose it because it was the best or most practical option. I love magic. I don’t just love what it can do; it’s not a tool to me. I love magic because it’s magic. My life was always going to be about magic. It is my first, only, true passion. Magic is everything to me.”

Brin nodded, waiting for Lumina to continue. She met his eyes sternly, making sure he was paying attention.

“I haven’t taken a student yet. All the children the kingdom offered me were interested in magic out of greed for wealth, or familial responsibility, or for the social status. I refuse to teach someone who isn’t fully and completely committed. To master magic, you have to need it. You must love and desire it. No half steps or hesitant hearts can climb these heights, only the purity of dedication.”

Brin realized that this was the second time today he’d been flippant with something that someone else considered sacred. He nodded. “I understand.”

“We may not have much time together. I’ll stay as long as I can, but at some point I’ll need to return to the kingdom. I may go to the tower, or they may send me somewhere else, and I don’t know if you’ll be able to join me. That means that the short time we do have cannot be wasted.”

There was a small twinge of guilt at that, because he knew that if she went one direction and Hogg went another, then Brin would go with Hogg. Not for any other reason than that Hogg had earned it. Also, he couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. Did she think he was lazy or unmotivated? Sure, for the last couple days he’d mostly just lazed around, but he figured he’d earned a small break. Only, she hadn’t seen any other side of him except for that.

Those smaller emotions were steadily being overcome by a burning excitement. An [Archmage] was contemplating the idea of teaching him magic. If she wanted that other Brin, the one who worked so hard that everyone around him had to beg him to stop, then she would get it.

“I understand,” he said again. “If you teach me, I promise that I’m all in. You’ll never have a student more motivated and focused than me.”

She nodded. “I believe you. Then we won’t start by throwing glass. We’ll start with the basics. What do you know about the Language?”