They spent the rest of the day in comparative silence—compared to the previous days, there were minutes of silence as opposed to the deluge of topics and questions they normally leveled at each other.

“I wanted to throw something at you this morning but all I had was rubies and I didn’t trust you not to catch it in your mouth like a gull.”

“I wanted to slide the chestnuts we found yesterday into your sleeping mouth so that maybe the incessant snoring would stop.”

“…how bad was it?” Adna winced.

“Honestly? Not that bad.”

“So you’re complaining about my snoring? I don’t even need to keep watch, you’re loud enough to keep bears away.”

Timbrelle smiled. It had been so long since she was able to talk to someone like this. The people of the new world behaved so strangely. Everything led back to religion. You’re lost? Look for the temple. You’re struggling? Let me find you a priest. You’re from another world and just want to get home? Let’s check you into the temple sanitarium. Any concern could be fixed by praying, any problem could be solved by a priest. The more she let slip, the more people would insist she check herself into the temple. Their concern for her nonsensical babbling about Earth was genuine and frightening. It was the reason she’d fled into the forest rather than admit herself to their care when Tarsus burned.

But Timbrelle was a teenage boy freshly dumped, she couldn’t seem to talk about anything else when the topic fell to her. Fates be praised that she found herself in the home of a storyteller. The unfortunate downside was that her literacy in basic concepts was abysmal while she knew quite a few myths and legends about this world. …just how many were true was a topic of some debate with her son.

“Do you believe in religion?” Timbrelle asked.

“I don’t know. It’s one thing I know almost nothing about. If I had been religious before, wouldn’t I have retained some of that the same way I’ve retained historical trivia?” Adna said.

“What do you remember?”

Adna let out a whistle. “Well… I know a few names and a prayer or two. But I am fairly sure there are hundreds of gods and thousands of prayers. So, not very much.”

“It’s worth a try.” Timbrelle admitted.

“You want to pray us out of here?” The disbelief was obvious.

“If there’s an omnipotent being out there who can help us leave this awful forest, why wouldn’t I try just leaving a message?”

Adna looked entirely lost. “You want to ask a God for a favor?”

“Is that not how it works here?”

“You get the hypothetical chance to talk to a God and you want to waste it by being selfish?”

Now it was Timbrelle’s turn to look lost. “What? Where I’m from, that’s what you do. ‘Hello god. It’s me again. I’m having a rough time. Please bless me with money or a job or something to save me. Amen.’”

Adna looked delighted. “What? What? Do you hear how selfish that is? Why would they help? You’ve done nothing for them.”

“Do you mean a sacrifice or tithe?” Timbrelle asked.

“Yeah! Or a deal or a promise or something. You can’t just go and beg a god to be altruistic. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It’s adorable! Can you just imagine a God sending little gifts to mortals?” She was in a better mood than Timbrelle had ever seen from her. A vast improvement on the cranky Adna who’d been keeping her company. “Is this the 'Karen behavior' you were telling me about earlier? You’re skipping the entire chain of command and trying to talk to the manager! What? The King of Yost wasn’t available?”

“Like I said: it’s worth a try.”

Adna, delightedly speechless, gave a swooping gesture to a nearby clearing as if to say "after you". She led Timbrelle into a seated position with her legs crossed and mirrored the position across from her. “Who do you want to start with? Jir, Roth, Ketris or Gorm?”

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“Let’s start with Tetris.” Timbrelle suggested.

“K-k-ketris. You have to say it correctly or else they won’t accept it.”

“Ketris, got it. So should I say the prayer or should I let you?”

Adna choked a laugh, “There’s no way I’m going to be begging the gods. But I’ll say everything for you to repeat.”

They restarted a couple times, accidentally jumbling the words. When there was no reaction, they began cycling through the other Gods and prayers. Covering all four Gods was as easy as sliding “Ketris” out and replacing it with “Gorm”. It was, however, time consuming. Timbrelle’s patience for the endeavor was growing thin by the end.

“That’s all of them.” Adna leaned back on her hands, obviously satisfied with the outcome. “Should we keep walking?”

“No, I was hoping that would do something. Besides, my stomach is really upset right now.” Timbrelle said, massaging just below her sternum. “Can we rest?”

Adna started the fire, as was her elected role in the camp, while Timbrelle’s stomach grew progressively more pained. It was clear to both of them that something was wrong, but it wasn’t until Timbrelle began vomiting that Adna stepped in.

“Is it the ruby you ate?” Adna asked gently, holding her mass of hair out of the way.

Timbrelle couldn’t respond, but the amount of blood she was expelling seemed enough proof.

“Ooooh God, make it stop.” She moaned between heaves.

Adna was rubbing circles in her back when they heard someone clear their throat. Both women spun to face the noise behind them. A dozen paces away, below a bethorned willow, stood a towering man with raven hair that flowed untangled down his back in an obsidian sheet. He allowed them to take in his visage from the pure black eyes to the jewels encrusting his body before he spoke. He wore no jewelry, instead, the perfectly cut jewels appeared to be surfacing from within his skin. There was an air of regality about him that seemed to have frozen Adna in shock.

“Who are you?” Timbrelle croaked.

Adna smacked a hand over the sick woman’s mouth before gasping and wiping it vigorously on the ground.

“How fun.” The man mused, cracking a smile. “Jir informed me that one of my children prayed to him. I’m here to receive an explanation.”

He approached them with a gaze that was not through pure black eyes as it had seemed, but through completely empty sockets. He locked onto Timbrelle and spoke again, approaching.

“So tell me, my child, why did Jir receive your prayers and not your master?” His tone was cold but curious.

Timbrelle answered by vomiting a great deal of blood onto the ground between them. Splashes of blood flew toward the man, fizzling into smoke before it could touch his robe.

“I promise you: if I’d have known your name, I’d have prayed to you too.” Timbrelle coughed out. “Didn’t you hear me throw some out to Jesus?”

The man grinned wildly. “I’ve never been so disrespected, certainly not by one of my own.”

“Come back when I’m not barfing my guts out, and I’ll make you a cake.” Timbrelle was reeling, hardly managing to string words together much less think them through. “At this point, I would pray to Batman and I don’t even think you guys have him here.”

The man crouched in front of her, his voice pitying. “Such a weak child. Your title is fitting. You could not withstand a mere ruby. Take this.”

He placed his hand flat over Timbrelle’s mouth, infinitely more tender than when Adna had done the same.

All of a sudden, something hard pressed against her lips. The same instinct that had forced her to swallow the ruby took over and she swallowed the object emerging from his hand. At once, the pain, nausea and floundering feeling were gone.

“What was that?” She exclaimed once the man pulled his hand away.

“A Diamond.” He said dismissively. “It is strong enough to settle your soul if you can attune it. I suspect that will be the hardest part. Its passive stabilizing energy will be enough for now.”

“It was the size of a golf ball!”

He cocked his head. “I see. You truly know nothing.”

“That statement is so much more accurate than I’d like.” She mumbled.

“I will inform my devotees of your arrival. They will be awaiting you; They are a treasured congregation.”

“Works for me.”

He simply smiled and turned to Adna. “You have been claimed by another. While I cannot offer you my support, I would suggest you do not accept your master’s either. Instead, may I ask a favor of you?”

Adna nodded her head, unblinking.

“These are for my child. You must keep them safe for her and from her. Only grant them when the time is right—you will know when that is.” He tenderly positioned her hands into a cup and leveled his own hand over the top. A stream of jewels clattered into a pile on the woman’s upturned hands. “I cannot help you overtly, but if you fulfill my request, I am able to grant you a boon. Do this task well and you will be rewarded.”

He turned back to Timbrelle. “This is all the time I have. Head to the capitol. Find my medium.” He stood to leave and stopped. From over his shoulder he said, “And don’t pray to Jir anymore, only me. He’s too… clingy.”

With that, he was gone. His presence did not blur or fade away, he was simply gone from one second to the next.

Ping!

A Patron has laid claim on your soul.

Ping!

You have received a divine mission from your Patron!

~Reward: UNKNOWN

~Punishment for failure: UNKNOWN

~Mission details: Find Their first medium. There is reason to believe it lies hidden in Yost Proper.

The only sound in the forest was the tink, tink of jewels raining onto the ground. To her side, Adna’s hands were shaking, dropping gems from her open palms.

“Hey Timbrelle?” Adna whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Did you get His name?”