Eliphaz wasted no time leaving the bloody scene. For the first time since his encounter with the Nephilim his mind felt oddly calm, every action lucid and calculated. The first step: hide the bodies, or at least pull them away from the road where they could be seen by passersby. He found the soldier’s horses further down the road. Untying their harnesses, he shooed them away—better they not remain and indicate something was amiss. Then, he gathered his belongings, carefully counting the silver as he placed it back in its pouch. He picked up Narina and placed her on his horse (which had only run off a little ways during the skirmish) and continued his journey.
Eliphaz fully understood the precarity of his situation. He rode through the lands of Canaan and Amurru, both vassal states under the eye of the Egyptian empire—Kemet, the Kingdom of the Black Earth. Were his deeds uncovered, his status would lend him no credibility, no recourse under the code of law. He would be branded a thief, murderer—and face the executioner’s axe.
He shivered at the very thought. From the men of his tribe, he’d heard stories of how the Black Earth tortured its criminals and outcasts. Lashings until the skin flayed. Thrown in with starving beasts and monsters. Chained to the river and left to helplessly wait as the water rose and rose. Some of the children said the stories were merely tall tales, meant to scare them from exploring the world beyond the valley of pastures. Perhaps that was true, Eliphaz thought. But he didn’t care to find out.
No, the best thing to do was to act swiftly, and so Eliphaz took decisive action. He would deliver Narina by nightfall, wait for the Kotharat to make their sacrifice or ritual or whatever needed to be done to save her. Then they would disappear into the night while the blood was still fresh and the deed undiscovered. Where they’d go Eliphaz couldn’t say. But he knew it would be far away. Far from the corruption of the empire. Far from the cursed city of Shechem. Far from his mother and father and anyone else that had betrayed him. The promise of freedom burned within, even as a voice in Eliphaz’s head gnawed at him, insistently taunting, “do you really think it will be that easy?”
Eliphaz sighed. At least there were other distractions at hand.
You defeated a soldier of Amun! +100 exp
You reached level 13!
Ishtar smiles upon you
+4 stat points
+2 skill points
Eliphaz
[Briarsworn] Level 13 Experience 25/500
He poured his points into his Spirit, raising the attribute to 45, automatically increasing his mana by one point. His magic continued to take his enemies by surprise, and Eliphaz figured it would continue being essential for his survival. The skill points he directed into Vines of the Briarsworn, though it remained at level four. The previous level had required two skill points, so perhaps the subsequent level would require three. Eliphaz reasoned that was the most logical way for the System to work. He was slightly disappointed by the lack of yet another numerical increase, but more unsettling thoughts still weighed in his mind.
The fragment within him, the crystal of tightly bundled mana that resided in his soul had revealed some startling properties during his fight. Somehow, it had absorbed the magical attack of the soldier, holding the volatile power within itself before expelling it in an uncontrollable manner. Eliphaz’s hand still prickled with scarlet burns where he’d felt the [light] mana explode from his fingertips. In its wake, his body had felt profoundly strange, aching with an inner exhaustion that seemed to emanate from his very bones. What had the crystal done?
Granted to him by Ishtar in the desert, Eliphaz hadn’t quite known what to think of the fragment. He simply understood it as the source of his power and had not probed at the problem further. But now, presented with new information and prompts from the System, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into the place. Eliphaz recalled his class description:
[Briarsworn]
Prophet-grade class granted by Ishtar. As a prophet you have convened directly with the gods, and gain power from their divinity. Wield it wisely, or else risk their wrath.
You have gained: One (1) vision containing ancient wisdom, one (1) Spirit-powered Ability, and a level 1 godshard.
Ishtar had granted him a godshard, and clearly that was the proper name for what he felt hidden beneath his chest. But did that mean that the godshard was not the source of his power? For even though it appeared to interact with his mana, Eliphaz noticed that the System distinguished between his Spirit ability and the godshard itself. Obviously the System knew what it was talking about—or did it? Eliphaz wasn’t sure what to think. Some connection between the godshard and his mana and Spirit seemed certain to him, but the precise nature of the relationship remained nebulous, a mystery hidden behind the opaque nature of the System and its hallucinatory screens.
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More disconcerting was how the System appeared to address him. The godshard had absorbed the beam of light for its own self-preservation. It had no concern for Eliphaz. In fact, it had warned him that its act of self-defense threatened to destroy his mortal form. But wasn’t he his own mortal form? Had Ishtar somehow made him immortal? That couldn’t be right, Eliphaz reasoned, but the thought still disturbed him. Eliphaz was simply a vessel meant to hold the godshard. The System no longer saw him as a mortal, but spoke directly to the divine fragment within him. No, he wasn’t immortal, but in more danger than ever before.
A chill breeze covered his limbs with goosebumps. Eliphaz shivered and gripped the insensate Narina in his quivering arms. Whatever the true purpose of the godshard, it didn’t bear well for him. Ishtar was trying to manipulate him, use him as a pawn in her game against the gods. But no, he wouldn’t fall for it. He would save Narina and they would run as far away as they could. He would live where no one could find him, where no fate could ensnare him again in Ishtar’s dangerous plans.
Eliphaz looked again at his class description, focusing on the strange, undecipherable word he understood to mean ‘godshard’. It grew fuzzy the harder he focused, before returning to its original form as his horse distracted him, letting out a loud snort.
Startled, Eliphaz scanned his surroundings but saw nothing. The day was young, the road empty. He turned to the blue screen and tried again.
He centered his mind, felt it sharpen on the word until he could cut the fuzzy symbol with the razor’s edge. The screen shattered, dissolved—disappeared? Eliphaz wasn’t quite sure how to describe what he saw. But the screen fell away and a new, shimmering script appeared in its place:
Godshard
Level 1 Experience ס̷̴̥̖͒̎ס̵̔̅͜/1̷̢̘̗̓̚ס̵̸̛̼̥̥̪̽̀̊̍̍̍̚ͅס̶̸̞͇͚̤̎͒̃̆̆͑̓̀ͅ0̶̨͓̲͓̽ Divinity Ǐ̶͙א̷̴̢̹̇̚ă̶̧א̶̸̡̮͌͋א̸̸̜̏̐͜ȁ̵̖, the [̸Q̶u̴e̶e̷n̷ ̷o̸f̸ ̵H̴e̶a̸v̸e̷n̴]̸ Host Eliphaz, the [Briarsworn] Aspect(s) [earth], [life]
Eliphaz’s eyes widened at this new knowledge. Tantalizing bits and pieces of information that only led to more questions that now raced in his mind. Never before had he heard of mana aspects, yet the screen implied that the shard was only compatible with two aspects (both of which made sense considering his plant- and growth-based powers). It had expelled the [light] mana out of necessity, but what if an aspect was compatible? Could it be a way of rapidly restoring his mana points? Eliphaz believed it might, but he would have to test his prediction.
And how was the godshard meant to gain experience? Since acquiring the divine fragment he had leveled up several times, yet its experience points remained inscrutable, showing no progression at all. The rules of the godshard were somehow different from those the System laid out for human beings. For now, Eliphaz had no understanding of how the godshard could level up, or what would happen when it did.
Pulling himself away from the tantalizing screens, Eliphaz looked down the road ahead. He had a purpose, and he couldn’t let Ishtar’s meddling gifts distract him.
That was the point, he realized. To tempt him with the promise of power. To make him believe he was immortal so that he would go along with the goddess’s insane plans.
But he wouldn’t fall for such foolishness. Eliphaz knew better than to trust anyone—let alone a power-hungry god.
Again Eliphaz looked into the distance. On either side the Beqa valley stretched out before him, vibrant green slopes flowing down, smooth like rushing water. He could see mist rising from the river beneath him, a cloud that hovered over the lower reaches of the land. Beyond that lay little plots of land, carved out of the wilderness and marked with thin slivers of smoke where the men and women of the valley led their simple and isolated lives.
He couldn’t allow himself to be seen—no—not in this condition. Half his face bruised and swollen, the skin of his neck bright pink from where the soldier had tried to strangle him with a burning grip. His appearance alone aroused suspicion, and anyone would conclude that something was not right. They’d find the bodies, hunt him down—he couldn’t allow that, at least not yet. Not while Narina still lay dying in his arms. He rested her head against his shoulder, and peered into the horizon.
—
He didn’t have to wait long for his premonitions to bear fruit. It was little past midday, as Eliphaz steadily climbed upwards towards the crest of a hill. Upon reaching its peak, he held his horse’s reins for a moment, stopping to examine the path he had taken.
Then he saw them, little more than a cloud of dust traveling along the road. The travelers themselves were still far-off, the size of insects from Eliphaz’s perspective, but the earth they kicked into the air indicated they were moving quickly.
Eliphaz wasted no time devising a plan. He would need to hide, preferably somewhere he could observe the riders as they passed. He urged his horse forward, searching for something, anything—
A hundred paces away, an ancient oak grew along the bend in the road, surrounded by brush. It seemed the best he could find.
He dismounted, taking Narina with him. He placed her down and led his horse behind the tree, its trunk gray and cracked. He tried to calm the beast, rubbing the white spot along its nose and feeding it sweet roots from his pack.
The travelers fast approached and Eliphaz still stood painfully exposed. He could hear the sound of hooves pounding against the road. How many were there? he wondered. Four? Five? He wasn’t sure.
Crouching down next to Narina, he placed his hand on the ground, fingers outstretched and digging into the earth. He summoned mana from his godshard.
Shield of Shrubs!
Eliphaz’s shrub wriggled out of the ground, fronds intermingling with the brush that surrounded them. It grew higher and higher, a dense bush quickly growing into existence as Eliphaz expelled more mana.
From the road, a lush thicket of tender leaves had bloomed in an instant. It reached the lower branches of the oak, covering Eliphaz, horse and all. He held his breath, hoping his botanical invention wouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary.
Eliphaz waited with bated breath. He allowed a single brown eye to peer out from beneath brush, the tangled vines uncoiling until a sliver of light reached his face. His horse neighed in confusion, and Eliphaz hushed it softly.
The riders flew by. Six Egyptian soldiers, clad in golden bronze which flashed in his leafy aperture. They rode past in a gallop, spears and swords hanging at their sides as if riding into battle.
They rushed along the road without a glance towards where Eliphaz lay hidden. Within seconds they disappeared, down the hill, down the path towards Qadesh.
Eliphaz let the breath he was holding expire, as a pit formed in his stomach.