“How troublesome,” Zareth muttered to himself as he meticulously studied his surroundings.
It’d been a while since he had conducted his most recent ritual, and he’d almost forgotten just how tedious it was to set up the necessary components. That was even more the case with a ritual as ludicrously complex as the one that Cerebon had stuffed into Zareth’s head at the end of their little history lesson.
Zareth swept his gaze across his laboratory—which had been cleared of pretty much all of his experiments and alchemical equipment. The members of his cult had been… moderately disturbed by some of the things that Zareth had been forced to relocate; however, the vast array of esoteric runes and arcane symbols that he’d painstakingly etched into every inch of the laboratory’s fleshy surfaces were completely necessary.
How does this nonsense even work? Zareth irately wondered not for the first time as he noticed and fixed a small error in one of the runes. He much preferred the System and its slightly more defined rules than the nonsensical squiggly lines that Cerebon swore would work as intended.
After the god had offered his full and unwavering support in pursuit of their shared agenda, he and Zareth had spent a while discussing the matter in Cerebon’s divine realm. Although Cerebon insisted that it would be relatively easy to get the other religious groups on board to form a pantheon after he came into accord with their respective deities, that wasn’t quite enough in Zareth’s opinion.
A truly reliable alliance needed more than just superficial shared goals and verbal agreements if it was going to stand the test of time. It needed mutual interests that were tightly intertwined and bound together in a way that couldn’t easily be undone by the changing whims of mysterious deities.
Zareth couldn’t trust that ancient history related to the System War would be enough. As someone who had tasted the bitterness of betrayal, nothing but ironclad assurance would satisfy him.
His conversation with Cerebon had led to Zareth proposing and discounting many different ideas on how to accomplish that, and they’d eventually settled on a… very ambitious plan.
It’s just a shame those plans require me to spend literal hours setting up this damned ritual, Zareth thought with frustration. I can’t even have Vidhatri or anyone else help me because I’m the only one who was given the knowledge to—
Zareth flinched in surprise as something hit the side of his head, only for him to look down and see one of the small, biomass balls that the cult’s kids had taken to playing with. Looking atin the direction it came from, Zareth quickly caught sight of Rizok staring at him with an irritated expression while holding several parchments.
“You haven’t listened to a word that I’ve been saying, have you?” Rizok said in a deadpan voice, looking up from the papers as the silence stretched on for a little too long.
Zareth winced as he suddenly recalled that Rizok had come down into the laboratory to brief him about Tal’Qamar’s current political situation ahead of his meeting with the rest of the Hierophant’s Council.
He’d just sort of… zoned out a little, and lost himself in his own thoughts.
“Uh, of course I have!” Zareth immediately denied, forcing a smile and frantically using every bit of his mental Stats to piece together what Rizok had been speaking on. “You were just talking about the war. And a… defeat? General Nasrith is as impressive as always for winning against the Conclave.”
Zareth held Rizok’s gaze for several moments before grimacing when it became clear that he must have gotten something wrong.
“Close. Except completely wrong,” Rizok said once Zareth began to squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. “I was in fact informing you of General Nasrith’s defeat and failure to secure Fal’Ashar, the presumed death of Enchanter Lord Ghalid, and the effect these events will have on the future of the war and Tal’Qamari politics.”
Oh. That does sound fairly important…
“Ah, sorry. I guess I was a little distracted with my work,” Zareth apologized before picking up the ball and looking at his friend with an inquisitive expression. “But weren’t we supposed to be having this meeting later in my office? And… why were you carrying one of these?”
“Confiscated it from the kids after they kept throwing it at Glurp,” Rizok said as he retrieved the ball and slipped it into his satchel. “The time for our meeting has well come and gone. You’ve been down here for much longer than you believe. Besides, Vidhatri is having too much fun reorganizing your office for me to interrupt her.” Rizok’s tone softened slightly, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “It’s really quite adorable.”
Somehow, Zareth doubted that.
After returning to Tal’Qamar and seeing that Meldorath’s Heart had finally managed to spread to a decent portion of the spire, Vidhatri hadn’t hesitated to start leveraging that to their advantage. The shivarath was very intrigued by the description of Meldorath’s temple and the many flesh-based objects within it, especially those relevant to the spire’s defense.
Vidhatri had thus decided to spend a Skill Point on [Flesh Crafting] and began using the biomass provided by Meldorath’s Heart to turn all of the spire’s furnishings into flesh. She argued that this would allow them to be easily shaped into barricades or defensive structures if needed.
Personally, Zareth had a feeling that Vidhatri just liked the thematic aesthetic of tables and chairs made of biomass. He didn’t particularly mind, but he had to put his foot down when Vidhatri proposed replicating the… unique sphincter-esque doors in Meldorath’s Temple.
The chances that whatever Vidhatri was doing to his office could reasonably be referred to as adorable was… highly unlikely, to say the least.
“I’ve pretty much hit a dead end with this anyway, so you may as well go ahead and update me on the most recent news,” Zareth said as he took one last look at the surrounding runes before nodding in satisfaction and making his way to the center of the room. Once there, he kneeled down to the pulsing organ embedded into the ground and began sculpting a basin around it.
Meldorath’s Heart would play an important role in the ritual's success, and would be primarily responsible for forming the object that Zareth intended to create with the immense amounts of Divine Essence that Cerebon had agreed to expend for his benefit.
Rizok glared at him with clear skepticism for several moments before nodding. “Very well. Then I will continue,” he said, turning back to his papers. “As I said before, General Nasrith’s forces unexpectedly failed in their effort to secure Fal’Ashar several days ago and are currently engaged in heavy combat with Conclave reinforcements from Jalasa and Fal’Farakh. This is the first unambiguous defeat that the General has faced and carries significant consequences, both in regard to the war and Tal’Qamar’s internal politics.”
Even as someone with very little understanding of military strategy, Zareth could immediately see the gravity of the situation. The Conclave would no doubt use this opportunity to sandwich Nasrith’s forces between Fal’Ashar and the two armies bearing down on them.
While the Tal’Qamari side of the war had an advantage in experience and levels, the Conclave had a far larger population and greater economic base. This meant that the longer the war went on, the more the Conclave’s forces would narrow the level gap and the more Tal’Qamar would struggle to maintain its advantage.
The civilian population of Tal’Qamar was still highly supportive of the war and morale was high given that High Command had ostensibly dominated the enemy up to this point, but everyone who understood warfare knew that success could easily unravel.
At least, that’s what Rizok claimed to be true.
Consequently, it made sense that even a single defeat would affect the various factions of Tal’Qamar.
“Have there been any developments relevant to my upcoming meeting?” Zareth asked, as he used his finger to trace the necessary runes along the inside of the basin.
Although he obviously hadn’t been able to share the true history of the System War, he had informed Rizok and Vidhatri about his intentions to forge closer ties with the rest of the Hierophant’s Council.
Neither of them had hesitated to offer their support, or even seemed the slightest bit concerned about the secrecy. That display of trust had been… both reassuring and humbling.
“That’s difficult to say, but Lore Guardian Othrik believes that there’s a chance it will affect your plans to get a seat on the Commission,” Rizok said with a shrug before handing Zareth a small piece of parchment. “Here. This is a report from the Tessik’s spies in House Zarqet, Khrysar, and Seradis. We already know that you have the support of Lady Marilith and General Nasrith, so the Lore Guardian decided against risking their agents in House Vhelan. Archmage Agnazir is still in Jabal-Alma, so there’s no real way to know which way House Kavasa will fall.”
Zareth quickly took the parchment and waited patiently as the lines of gibberish written across it slowly resolved into meaningful text. Earning the trust of Othrik meant that the Lore Guardian’s [Keeper of Knowledge] Skill would allow him access to the encoded information without much trouble, but it still took a moment for the Skill to decode the complex cipher.
The details eventually emerged, and Zareth furrowed his brow as he absorbed its contents.
The ‘Commission’ that Rizok was referring to was the Oversight Commision of High Command’s Territorial Governance Division—otherwise known as Tal’Qamar’s primary decision making body for non-military affairs.
After Nasrith overthrew the previous Merchant Lord, the Territorial Governance Division had almost immediately been formed and given far-reaching legal authority over civilian matters. This was extremely unsurprising, as the Great Houses and other major factions were eager to have a formalized means of exerting their influence and control over Tal’Qamar.
Had General Nasrith not formed the Territorial Governance Division and allowed the Great Houses to fill it with their representatives, then Tal’Qamar would have doubtlessly sunk into civil war as the factions vied to reestablish their power. With the Conclave circling Tal’Qamar like sharks that had scented blood in the water, that would have resulted in a disaster.
However, the Great Houses had naturally done everything they could to restrict access to this newly made decision-making body as much as possible. Oligarchs generally didn’t enjoy sharing power any more than necessary, and the Great Houses were obviously no different.
Zareth had initially been very excited and proud when High Command had formed the Hierophant’s Council and given his cult a place on it, assuming that it would grant him some degree of influence. But it eventually became clear that almost all the real power and legal authorities were being directed to the Territorial Governance Division. The Hierophant’s Council was only permitted to make very narrow decisions regarding religious and ceremonial matters in Tal’Qamar, and even then, those edicts could be overturned by the Oversight Commision.
Zareth had always wanted to secure a seat on the Commision, but hadn’t made much headway given his cult’s relative lack of influence.
But that was no longer the case.
The Cult of Cerebon was now making gold hand over fist by offering its body sculpting services and was receiving new converts every single day. The size of Zareth’s cult had already outstripped the Circle of Ghisara and the Order of the Serene Path, though it had yet to catch up with the other groups that were more entrenched with their specific racial groups.
The Cult of Cerebon had also secured the support of Lady Marilith and High Command, as granting them a seat on the Commission would benefit General Nasrith. The coalition of factions who opposed any attempt from Nasrith to centralize power currently held the majority on the Commision, but that could change if another faction successfully acquired a seat at the table.
Unfortunately, the Cult of Cerebon was far from rivaling any of the Great Houses in wealth and influence. They weren’t even really all that close to competing with the larger Guilds. Nasrith and Lady Marilith could leverage their influence anyways and force a seat onto the Commision for Zareth’s cult, but that would simply grant their opponents an excuse to respond in kind.
Therefore, the only reasonable course of action was to form a political coalition with the other members of the Hierophant’s Council and present themselves as a unified and indispensable force within Tal’Qamar. The Priesthood of Silvaris and the Way of Gendal would both be quite sizable, and could perhaps rival the Merchant’s Guild in influence if they combined their influence with Zareth’s cult.
Kinta and her fellow [Monks] were still largely a non-factor, but would be natural allies and were gaining in popularity among certain groups who appreciated what they had to offer.
But it was the Circle of Ghisara, with the relationships and resources they had gathered while serving Tal’Qamar’s naga elites, who would tip the scales if they could be peeled from House Khysar’s orbit.
A shame that this was easier said than done.
“So the Great Houses are already starting to grow suspicious about my increased contact with Farida and Borak?” Zareth murmured as he read through the report sent by Lore Guardian Othrik. “Not all that surprising, I suppose. Political schemers of their level tend to have a keen sense of shifting power dynamics. However, we’ll need to be ready once they fully realize what we have planned.”
Zareth had no doubt that the Great Houses would go to significant lengths to prevent Nasrith from centralizing power.
Somehow, I have a feeling that my third assassination attempt is going to happen sooner rather than later, Zareth mused ruefully.
“With Priestess Farida and Grand Shaman Borak both submitting their petitions for recently conquered land, I’ve no doubt that the Great Houses are paying very close attention to developing allegiances,” Rizok acknowledged with a nod. “Depending on the ultimate value of the lands that they are assigned, the influence of the human and ogre minorities could increase significantly.”
Unlike Zareth, who had leveraged every bit of favor he could with House Vhelan and allied himself to General Nasrith to acquire Jabal-Alma, Farid and Borak didn’t have the political weight to actually secure a section of land with minimal fuss.
Instead, each of them had submitted a list of proposals to High Command that would eventually be decided on by the Territorial Governance Division.
This would be one of the primary points of leverage that Zareth intended to exploit during his upcoming meeting and could even serve as the foundation for something much greater, if his plans came to fruition.
Speaking of…
“You’ve seen my intended proposals. Do you think Farida and Borak will agree to them?” Zareth asked curiously, suddenly feeling nervous about how everything would unfold.
Rizok was silent for several moments as he considered the question, his brow-ridge furrowing before he finally responded. “Difficult to say. Your gifts have likely softened them up and put them in the mood for negotiations, but they’re both old and experienced leaders who place their people as their highest priority. It depends on what exactly you can offer them that is worth the risk of further offending the Great Houses.”
That’s exactly the same conclusion that Zareth had reached himself. It was relieving to hear Rizok’s validation.
“Then I suppose that it’s a good thing I was given this ritual,” said Zareth, letting out a hum of satisfaction as he carefully checked over all of the runes and failed to find any errors. He could feel Cerebon’s attention push down on him like a heavy cloak and felt comforted by it.
The heightened connection provided by [Cerebon’s Greater Boon] meant that the god would have no problem informing him if there was any significant issues.
“It is,” said Rizok, nodding as he collected all of the documents and placed them in his satchel. “How certain are you that this will actually work, and is it safe? I agreed that the… well, I’m not sure what to call it. But I agreed that this plan of yours would be effective if you could really pull it off, but you’re effectively attempting to create something on par with very high-level artifacts. It’d probably be considered a Critical Asset if it had any combat applications and managed to grow like you describe.”
“You’re not wrong. A ritual like this would be far out of my league under normal circumstances,” Zareth admitted without hesitation. “Even with all of the utterly ridiculous precautions included in these runes, the sheer amount of Divine Essence would burn me to a crisp as thoroughly as that Enchanter Lord you mentioned.”
Religious Classes like [Cultist], [Priest], and [Atavistic Apostle] could naturally channel Divine Essence far better than normal Classes, but Zareth was still only level 27. Rizok was completely right to be concerned.
“The difference, I’m told, is that Lord Cerebon is willing to invest significantly in this,” Zareth continued.
He didn’t really know the exact details of how it worked, but Cerebon had revealed that deities allocated a portion of the Divine Essence provided by the faith of their worshippers into a sort of internal reservoir. This reservoir is what allowed them to perform miracles and empower their worshippers outside of the bounds of the System.
Cerebon wasn’t exactly the most popular or well-known of deities—which wasn’t all that surprising given his macabre domain and relative youth compared to his peers. This meant that any significant allocation of his power was actually a substantial sacrifice on Cerebon’s part and wasn’t something that Zareth could afford to squander.
The ritual that he was about to perform was apparently worth nearly fifty years of accumulated worship from Cerebon’s perspective, so Zareth would doubtlessly face severe repercussions if he didn’t make it worth it.
Zareth took a deep breath as he swept his gaze across the ritual site for a final time and ensured every detail was in place. The ambient hum of Divine Essence thrummed in the air, almost palpable in its weight given that his laboratory was directly beneath where the cult normally held its sermons. With a nod of satisfaction and a few words to Rizok informing the lizardkin that he should move to the side, Zareth decided that there was little reason to delay.
A more established cult would have someone with a Class like [Occult Ritualist] with more specialized or powerful Skills, but Zareth was forced to get the job done with just [Ritual of Offering]. Making his way to the various pedestals of flesh surrounding the centerpoint of the ritual site, Zareth activated the Skill and began placing the various thematically appropriate sacrifices he’d prepared for Cerebon atop them.
The seed of a rare Mirage Acacia tree, famous for its ability to thrive in the harshest regions of the Qahtani Desert.
A vial of water brimming with Divine Essence, stolen from a high-ranking member of the Church of Rayya, Goddess of the Oasis.
A strange chunk of biomass that also emanated Divine Essence, harvested from the massive flesh golem slain by a gold-rank Adventurer Group in the depths of Meldorath’s Temple.
And finally an Elysian Phoenixberry, the most valuable and Ether-dense fruit that Zareth could afford to acquire on such short notice. It was said to increase the general health and fertility of anyone who ate it and was generally used by [Beast Tamers] in the breeding of rare and powerful creatures.
According to Cerebon, having these sacrifices would both improve the ultimate outcome of the ritual and lessen the amount of Divine Essence that the god would need to invest for its success. While Zareth wasn’t one to waste gold, he hadn’t spared any expense and done everything he could to ensure each item was of the highest quality. He’d fully leveraged his contacts and his cult’s recent windfall to the best of his abilities without the slightest hesitation.
After all, if this worked then the Cult of Cerebon stood to potentially benefit far more than a few hundred gold coins could ever buy.
“Oh Great Cerebon, Lord of Flesh and Transformation,
Hear my plea and accept these humble offerings,
In your name, I seek to create a beacon of life,
An oasis of flesh and bounty within the most barren of sands.
Accept this seed of tenacity,
Symbol of resilience and survival,
That our creation may thrive in the harshest of lands.
Accept this vial of blessed waters,
Stolen from the heart of the oasis,
That our creation may be imbued with life-giving essence.
Accept this mass of recently animated muscle,
Taken from the sanctuary of slain and usurped rival,
That our creation may possess the unending potential of flesh.
Accept this offering of fertility and growth,
Harvested from the groves of far-away lands,
That our creation may be fecund and abundant in it’s bounty,
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
With these offerings, I beseech you, Lord Cerebon,
To bless this ritual and grant us the seed of this cult’s future.
Let it grow mighty and vast,
Providing substance and sanctuary to both your chosen and our allies,
A testament to your power and our devotion.
By your will, let it be done.”
As he spoke the invocation given to him by his god, Zareth could feel a surge of Divine Essence building in the room with every uttered word. His voice took on a strange echoey quality as every single rune etched into the floors and walls began to glow with an otherworldly light, pulsating in harmony with the beating of Meldorath’s Heart.
Moments later, blood began to spontaneously seep out of the grooves of the runes and flowed down a series of interconnected channels into the basin surrounding the beating organ. The sacrifices slowly sank into the pedestals they had been placed upon before disappearing completely, signifying that they had been accepted by Cerebon.
Not that this was ever in doubt, given the weighty feeling of anticipation that hung over the entire laboratory as the ritual slowly reached his apex. It felt as though the god stood beside Zareth, guiding his every movement as he walked to the center of the room and knelt before the blood-filled basin, a foreign power steering his actions.
A distant part of Zareth’s mind noted that the crimson liquid was unnaturally hot as he plunged his arms into the basin and placed his hands on the surface of Meldorath’s Heart. He could feel a dense surge of Divine Essence flow through him—its intensity painful to a degree that Zareth knew that he would’ve never have been able to remain silent if he was in full control of himself.
As it was, the excruciating burning was a mere afterthought as he thrust his hands through the outer flesh of Meldorath’s Heart and into its largest chamber.
Blood—heavily-infused with Divine Essence—immediately poured into the organ as the external influence directing Zareth guided him to shape and control the liquid in a way that he didn’t fully understand. Words escaped his lips unbidden—rough and coarse in a language that was both unfamiliar to him and seemed unfit for human vocal cords, yet he understood every syllable.
“Let this seed be born of blood and essence. May it grow into an everlasting firmament that will challenge this established order. May it protect my chosen from their enemies, both ancient and new. Divine and mortal alike.”
The blood began to swirl, drawn in at incredible speed into Meldorath’s Heart. The pulsations of the organ grew faster and louder, echoing off the walls until it was as if the entire room was filled with the sound of beating drums. Zareth’s entire body trembled as Divine Essence coursed through him, flowing into his hands where the blood compressed and transformed under his touch.
Zareth had no idea for how long this continued until the ritual reached its apex and the blood finally began to coalesce into its final orb. Slowly, the runes carved into his laboratory lost their otherworldly glow and the basin drained of blood, leaving the crimson liquid that drenched his arms the only remnants of the ritual’s end. Meldorath’s Heart gradually ceased its rapid pulsations and returned to the steady, rhythmic beat that he was accustomed to hearing.
Atavistic Apostle has reached Level 28! Skill Point Gained!
Given how much Divine Essence had just been channeled through his soul and the large amount of information he’d gained from Cerebon’s recent history lesson, it was little surprise that he’d leveled. The speed of it was somewhat absurd given how recently he’d reached Level 27; however this was one of the benefits of being favored by his god and choosing a Class that centered around both serving said god and acquiring knowledge.
Deciding to address the matter of his Skill Point later, Zareth carefully pulled his hands from the organ, his hands now cradling the culmination of his efforts and Cerebon’s power.
The spherical object was larger than he expected, roughly the size of a human head. Its surface was a deep crimson, covered in intersecting veins that seemed to writhe and shift under the light. The texture was a curious mix of smooth and rough, with patches of what looked like sinew and muscle fiber interwoven with a glossy, almost translucent sheen. It allowed him to see the tiny, spiked tendrils quivering barely beneath the surface, waiting to break free and expand into the world beyond.
But more than anything else, it was the immense amount of Divine Essence radiating from the sphere which fully captured Zareth’s attention. He couldn’t help but feel that even those who lacked [Devotion Perception] would be able to sense the enormous potential contained within the divine creation, a fact supported by the way Rizok was staring at it with slight trepidation.
“Is it done, then?” Rizok asked as he approached to get a better look. “I’ve grown pretty used to seeing things that are bizarre and fairly gruesome ever since I met you, but that was something else entirely. Felt like my scales were about to crawl off my body.”
Zareth chuckled softly, the tension slowly leaving his body. “Yes, it’s done. I can sense that the Seed is ready to be placed and activated whenever we’re ready.”
“Hmph. I see,” said Rizok. “Are you sure it was a good idea to go through with the ritual before you actually convinced the Desharin and the ogres to agree to your plan?”
“Showing it to them will make the negotiations much easier,” Zareth said as he studied the Seed for a moment before subsuming it into his body. It was slightly uncomfortable given the size, but a few shifts of his internal organs made enough space. “And not a moment too soon, given that I can see them approaching the spire through the flesh golem perched outside.”
Zareth had intentionally timed the [Ritual of Offering] for a few minutes before the scheduled meeting in the hopes that the surge of Divine Essence would impress his peers. Given the rigid solemnity he could see from Farida and the composed curiosity from Borak, he had a feeling he’d succeeded.
Kinta was hard to read through her serenity, but that was to be expected from a [Monk] who served a deity referred to as the ‘Serene Path’.
“We should make our way upstairs. It’s probably a good idea to be there once they step into the spire,” said Zareth, already walking toward the exit.
He was glad that he’d given the [Cultists] a day off from the cult’s healing and flesh sculpting services or there would have been a massive crowd in the main hall. Given the quasi-divine aura radiating from the Seed now embedded in his chest, Zareth had no doubt that there would’ve been more [Spies] than usual loitering around the Spire Garden if rumors were allowed to spread.
As it stood, there were only a few of the spire’s permanent residents socializing and relaxing among the rows of fleshy pews in the vast hall. A few children were harassing Glurp the flesh blob as Rizok claimed, but most of the cult’s members seemed content to converse quietly among themselves or join Vidhatri in a lesson on meditation on the far side of the hall.
Zareth was glad to see that the shivarath had taken a break from her flesh-crafting projects to connect with the rest of the cult and wasn’t about to chase him to argue for more spire modifications.
“I’ll go join Vidhatri,” Rizok announced as he caught sight of his lover, eyes growing impossible soft at the mere sight of her. “I doubt that there’s anything I can contribute to your negotiations regardless.”
Zareth let out an amused snort and offered Rizok a teasing look. “Fine. Just remember to send Tamir or one of the [Cultists] with the special dishes to my office in a few minutes. I know how enthusiastic you are about meditation, so try not to forget.”
His tone made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t the meditation he believed would captivate the soldier. Rizok responded with a roll of his eyes and a rude gesture before turning away to join Vidhatri.
Zareth watched as Farida, Kinta, and Borak ascend the steps to his spire and make their way to the entrance to the main hall. He immediately fixed a smile on his face and moved to address them. “Greetings, my friends. Thank you all for comi—”
“By the gods, boy. What have you done to this place,” Farida interrupted with a grimace as she looked beyond him to the interior of the spire. “It feels as if I’m stepping into the gullet of an enormous Qahtani Glintworm. And why do you look as if you just finished bathing in blood? Did you decide to take [Cannibal] as a second Class?”
“No need to be rude, Priestess Farida,” Borak said with a deep voice as he offered Zareth a polite nod and swept his gaze across the hall. “The Cult of Cerebon has been nothing but a boon for Tal’Qamar. Their… unique aesthetic choices are nothing that we should scorn.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Apostle Zareth,” said Kinta, the only one of the three who looked completely unbothered as she glanced curiously at Vidhatri and the other members of the cult. “I wasn’t aware that your cult performed meditative practices. I would be quite interested in joining one of these sessions at some point.”
Zareth blinked in confusion before looking down at his arms—which he had completely forgotten to clean of blood—and glancing back into the spire—which looked like something out of a particularly gross horror movie.
It took him a moment to realize that both he and the members of his cult had grown so desensitized to gore after seeing such things every single day that they’d forgotten what it might look like to outsiders. Even the warm, crimson liquid currently drenching his robes and filling his surroundings with the scent of iron hadn’t really registered to him or been mentioned upon by anyone else until now.
That was… slightly concerning.
“I’m sure Fleshwarper Vidhatri would be more than happy to arrange a meditative session with you, Monk Kinta,” Zareth lied as he did his best to hide his embarrassment while absorbing the blood into his body. In truth, Vidhatri would doubtlessly disdain interacting with an ‘infidel’ any longer than possible. “And thank you for your kind words, Grand Shaman. The Cult of Cerebon has done it’s best to make this place it’s own, regardless of the opinions of those eager to make unnecessary judgements.”
It was clear to everyone to whom that last comment was directed. But rather than get offended, Farida merely snorted in amusement and smirked at him with something approaching approval. “Good to see that your tongue is still sharp and you’ve still got your backbone, lad. Wasn’t sure given how much you’ve been bending over for the snakes recently.”
“My ‘sharp tongue’ is something I don’t imagine losing so long as I have to speak with you, old lady,” Zareth said dryly, his welcoming smile straining as he decided to skip the unnecessary pleasantries. “Now, if we could move to my office, we can discuss the matter at hand.”
Their relationship had improved somewhat and there was a mutual respect that neither of them commented on… but he still found Farida to be an unpleasant curmudgeon. Thankfully, that didn’t stop her from nodding and following quietly as he made his way up the stairs, Borak and Kinta stepping into place behind her.
The trek to his office was uneventful, aside from the occasional glance at the flying cat or the one instance of a tendril—presumably one of Vidhatri’s flesh golems—emerging from the walls to light a torch as they ascended the steps. Once he arrived at his office, Zareth opened the thankfully completely normal and not sphincter-shaped door and ushered his guests inside. The biomass overtaking the spire hadn’t yet reached his office, so its furnishings were still relatively normal.
Aside from the chair behind Zareth’s desk… which had been replaced by a bone and flesh substitute uncomfortably reminiscent of a throne without his knowledge.
Dammit Vidhatri…
Pretending that nothing was out of place, Zareth made his way over to the seat and sat down, gesturing for his guests to take their places on the more normal chairs placed around the desk. Farida settled into her seat, eye twitching with mild distaste at Zareth’s chair, while Borak and Kinta sat down while wearing expressions of polite curiosity.
“Thank you all for accepting my invitation,” said Zareth, doing his best to project confidence. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know why I called you here, though I imagine you have your suspicions given how I’ve been behaving since returning to Tal’Qamar.”
“Hmph. You’re not wrong. It’s clear you want something from us,” Farida snorted, leaning back in her chair and fixing him with an inscrutable gaze. “Sending us gifts and nice words while arranging this meeting. Can’t say I disapprove of your decision to leave behind the snake and his circle of sneaky little seers.”
“Are you sure this is wise? The Circle of Ghisara is meant to be a member of the Hierophant’s Council, no?” Kinta asked before Zareth could respond, her tone calm and lacking any accusation despite the nature of her question. “Why have you chosen to exclude them, Apostle Zareth?”
“I believe you’ll understand once I explain my intentions,” Zareth said before looking toward the door leading into his office, sensing that Tamir had arrived as instructed. “But first, I’ve prepared something that I believe you all might find interesting.”
After shouting for Tamir, the door opened to reveal the young [Cultist] uneasily carrying two covered dishes. With a quick nod of acknowledgement, Tamir carefully placed each of them down on the desk in front of Zareth before retreating out of the office.
Encouraged by the curious expressions of his peers, Zareth didn’t hesitate to remove the covers over two dishes, revealing the very unique foods contained within.
“What in Silvaris’ name are these?” Farida asked as she picked up a peach-sized object with a smooth and slightly furry exterior.
Retrieving the knife hidden with one of his table’s drawers, Zareth cut open the object to reveal an interior that was marbled with veins of a succulent, meat-like substance.
He then did the same to the second dish, which was larger melon-sized fruit with a rough exterior dotted with small, raised nodes, almost resembling the armored hide of some kind of ancient beast. However, splitting it open revealed a core filled with a light pink, gelatinous substance that released a pleasant and sweet aroma that immediately drew the attention of everyone present.
“These are a variety of foods created by the special abilities of the Cult of Cerebon,” Zareth explained, his voice steady as he gestured to the trays. “This one is a Fleshfruit. Through a combination of natural sciences and Ether, it was specifically created to both taste as good as any well-cooked meat and provide enough nutritional benefit to sustain a person for an entire day.”
The second is a Sanguine Melon, and the fluid inside is similarly infused with Ether and created to provide for the hydration necessary to sustain a person through the harshest conditions. While I haven’t had the opportunity to test its full potential, I estimate that a single one of these should be able to sustain a person for nearly a week. Even while traveling through the desert.”
The expressions of Zareth’s guests had been growing increasingly incredulous with each word he spoke. But it was the final comment which immediately captured Farida’s attention and caused her gaze to snap to him with an intensity that almost made him flinch.
“Several days? Truly? What you say is impossible,” Farida asked, her eyes filled with calculation as she looked back down to the Sanguine Melon and continued before he could respond. “No. A week seems reasonable so long as you possess enough Vitality. Especially given their magical nature. Your god’s domain would plausibly allow such a feat. Hydration could be sustained even longer with sufficient water-retention Skills. The possibilities if these could be produced in significant amounts are…”
Farida grew uncharacteristically silent, her gaze distant as her mind doubtlessly ran through the myriad of implications. Borak was quick to pick up the conversation, his eyes narrowing with contemplation.
“The benefits of the Sanguine Mellon to the nomadic Desharin are quite obvious. Especially given their… recent circumstances,” Borak said mildly, referring to the Desharin’s lost ability to create Oasis’ as he picked up one of the Fleshfruits and took a bite of it, humming in appreciation at the taste. “However, the usefulness of these for my own people would depend on your cult’s ability to produce them in significant numbers. An alternative food source would be quite welcome, given High Command’s forced rationing and the increasing costs of foods.”
“I know admittedly very little about magic,” Kinta began, her expression thoughtful. “Such knowledge isn’t needed for those who follow the Serene One. But these… ‘fruits’ seem to contain more Ether than what could reasonably be produced at scale. Am I wrong?”
Zareth was somewhat impressed by Kinta’s perceptiveness. She wouldn’t be wrong in her observations about production bottlenecks, under normal circumstances. These two dishes had been prepared using Ether-infused biomass produced by Meldorath’s Heart, which was both slow and expensive in general.
Kinta’s comment was enough to break Farida out of her reverie, causing the old woman to look at him like she was about to accuse him of wasting her time. Before she could ruin the mood, Zareth was quick to respond.
“I do have a solution for that little problem. But first, I would like affirmations that you three are willing to forge closer ties,” Zareth said, voice steady as he met each of the gazes. “My god has assured me that he’s communicated with each of your respective deities, and I’m certain they’ve spoken to you all in turn. However, the degree and nature of our mutual cooperation is for us to decide, and I feel like we should do so now. Especially if we are to extend our influence to the Territorial Governance Division.”
“You’re correct that Silvaris has reached out to me in favor of mutual cooperation, but your ambitions overshadow your ability, brat,” Farida said with a scowl. “The damned snakes will never allow us to gain a foothold in the actual seats of power without a fight. Our people would have already succeeded in doing so otherwise.”
“That may have once been the case, but circumstances have changed. I sincerely doubt that your people have ever had the explicit support of Tal’Qamar’s Ruler,” Zareth said calmly. “General Nasrith and Lady Marilith have expressed their willingness to endorse the Hierophant’s Council’s right to representation so long as we in turn support his efforts to centralize certain legal authorities with High Command. This isn’t an opportunity that will come again easily.”
He then went on to explain the current political situation that Rizok had briefed him on before, emphasizing that they could only pool together enough resources and influence if they worked together. By the time he was done explaining, the expressions of his guests ranged from cautious optimism to deep contemplation.
“I see the potential gain in this, Apostle Zareth. My people would certainly benefit greatly if we could secure the Commission and change certain laws designed to hinder our progress,” said Borak, leaning forward with an air of seriousness. “But I believe you may be underestimating the severity of the opposition that we would receive from the Great Houses who are not aligned with our interests.”
“Hmph. It’d cause a civil war if the snakes weren’t clever enough to know how quickly the Conclave would exploit any signs of internal conflict,” Farida grumbled, though she still seemed quite interested in the proposal. “Any power that the Great Houses hand over to High Command is power they won’t be getting back. They’ll fight tooth and nail to stop that from happening. Assassination attempts, trade caravans having ‘accidents’ while traveling perfectly safe routes, our Craftsmen blacklisted from major contracts. House Seradis alone purchases 80 percent of the Sunstones that my people produce. They would starve us of gold the very moment we became a threat.”
Zareth knew that Farida’s concern was perfectly reasonable. It was difficult to overstate just how much the Great Houses dominated the Tal’Qamari economy and how far their tendrils had spread to every corner of society. Even with all the preparations that he had made, any plan to challenge the Great Houses would be doomed to fail without support.
“I’m sure House Vhelan would be willing to take over a portion of that trade if House Seradis decided to take punitive measures,” Zareth said, steepling his fingers. “And I’ve no doubt that a group as independent minded as the Desharin have done their best to develop ways to mitigate those sorts of pressures.”
“You’re not wrong, lad. But that’s not the point,” Farida said, shaking her head. “Even if we succeeded, the Great Houses would grind us down into dust eventually. They practically own this city and everything in it. Why would I risk my people being brought to ruin for a fourth of a vote on a Commission that would have eight different factions vying for control? Just so that I can help a snake consolidate his power?”
Borak and Kinta remained quiet, but Zareth could tell that they both shared Farida’s concerns. Borak’s situation was almost exactly the same—with the ogres just as vulnerable to economic retaliation—while Kinta’s monastery was much too small to survive any effort to undermine them.
Zareth had reached a similar conclusion while discussing how he should proceed with Cerebon. Even if the god hadn’t participated in mortal politics in millennia, he had provided invaluable insights that made it clear to Zareth that the Great Houses were just too deeply entrenched for his ambitions to prosper.
The Great Houses would undoubtedly look at any burgeoning pantheon with extreme suspicion given how long it’d taken them to overthrow the Conclave and react accordingly. The support of General Nasrith and Lady Marilith meant that their pantheon would have a degree of protection, but the Great Houses would only escalate the more their power was threatened.
Perhaps even to the point of triggering a civil war once the current conflict with the Conclave came to a close. That wasn’t something that anyone would benefit from, so there was really only one option.
“In that case, why don’t we escape the Great Houses’ seat of power and establish our own center of influence?” Zareth suggested, anticipation rising as he finally reached the crux of his proposal. “Together, utilizing the land we are to be given in return for our participation in this war, we establish a new city from the ground up. One that is free of the Great Houses’ influence and open to members of each of our respective groups. This would allow us to make decisions without fear of their interference.”
The room fell into a shocked silence as the weight of Zareth’s proposal settled over them. It was an extraordinarily ambitious plan with immense benefits, but also equally immense risks.
“As I said before, my people would have already done so if it were that simple. We would have loved to leave this snake infested city behind,” said Farida, scowling angrily as she looked at him with growing scorn. “Do you have any idea just how difficult it would be to establish a city any larger than that destitute little hovel that High Command handed over to you? Materials, proper [Masons], as well as general labor would all cost a fortune. Those could perhaps be accounted for if both I and the Grand Shaman convinced our people to invest in this endeavor. But the largest issue would be finding any sizable oasis that hasn’t already been claimed and actually feeding all of…”
Farida trailed off from her rant as she looked down at the Fleshfruit and Sanguine Melon still sitting on the desk, her eyes widening with realization.
Seeing that the right moment had come, Zareth reached to his chest and retrieved the seed before placing it on the table. The immense amounts of Divine Essence radiating from it immediately captured everyone’s attention and let them know that they were dealing with something extraordinary.
“As I said before, I do have the means to produce these on a large scale. Enough, at least, to give us a few interesting options,” Zareth said as he casually closed the wound he had just opened. “My god graciously granted me the ability to create this vessel of his divine power. Once placed on a sufficient source of Ether, it will eventually grow into a massive, sprawling organism capable of creating free biomass to use as building materials and sources of sustenance like the ones you’ve been shown.”
According to Cerebon, the Seed was based heavily on Meldorath’s Heart and effectively served as a larger and generally superior version of the magical organ. One that would be able to support an entire city rather than a single compound like his spire or Meldorath’s temple.
It would lose the ability of Meldorath’s Heart to create more targeted and specialized varieties of Ether-infused biomass, but the sheer production output would more than make up for that loss. This Seed in particular was designed to grow into something approximating a truly massive tree of flesh and bone, producing Ether-infused biomass that was unnaturally nutritious.
This meant that a decently powerful leyline could be turned into a reliable source of food and water, allowing a city to be built in places that were previously deemed uninhabitable.
Cerebon only had enough Divine Essence to spare for a single Seed of this caliber for now. However, Zareth had gotten the distinct impression that the ambitious god envisioned cities of flesh springing up across the lands, spreading his influence as countless mortals grew reliant on his gifts.
It was a cunning plan. One which Zareth had every incentive to see to its fruition.
“Needless to say, this could offer all of us many opportunities,” Zareth continued once it became clear that his peers were too caught off-guard to respond. “My first instinct was to place it in Jabal-Alma, which possesses a suitably powerful leyline benea—”
“Absolutely not,” Farida immediately interrupted, breaking her gaze from the Seed. “A settlement completely under your authority would be completely unacceptable. The Desharin shall not trade one master to get in bed with another.”
“And my people will not suffer to live amongst Borvulk,” Borak added, shaking his head. “And the requirement that it be placed in a location dense with Ether is difficult, given my people’s biology.”
“Those problems had indeed occurred to me,” Zareth said dryly, slightly annoyed by the interruption. “The Seed will feed on any Ether in its vicinity, rendering the location magically neutral and safe for Gruvulk habitation. But I do need your assistance otherwise. The Desharin and the ogres undoubtedly know the Qahtani Desert far better than I ever could, and would both have an interest in recording Ether-dense locations. At least, that is if you’ve decided to agree to the plan that I’ve offered?”
While he really did need help, Zareth had no doubt that he could’ve found a suitable spot for the Seed without it. He was far more interested in getting Farida and Borak invested in the plan from the very beginning, ensuring that they felt a sense of ownership and commitment to the project.
All of them would be absolutely indispensable if he was to actually go through with the creation of a city. Even Kinta could be very useful depending on what lands her monastery were granted by High Command, and the peoples contained within them.
The room was quiet as Farida, Borak, and Kinta all exchanged glances and sincerely considered the proposal. Unsurprisingly, it was Farida who was the first to break the silence, though her voice lacked any of the scorn or subtle disrespect that it had contained before.
“A chance to be liberated from the Great Houses… it’s a dream that the Desharin have had for many generations,” Farida said slowly as she let out a soft sigh. “More than that, you offer the possibility that my people may once again roam the sands freely and at length with these… fruits of yours. It is not a true replacement for our stolen ability to create oasis’ at our leisure, but it is a step forward to self-sufficiency and freedom. I… find it hard to imagine that our Elders will dismiss this opportunity.”
Zareth could feel his hope swell at the surprisingly quick agreement from the most difficult member of the group. He looked at Borak and Kinta, eager to see their reactions.
“I concur. We Gruvulk have always prided ourselves on our independence and resilience, and the Great Houses have taken that from us,” Borak said with a decisive nod. “Much will depend on the details, which will require further negotiations, but I am willing to present this to my people. But be warned, the Great Houses will not accept this easily.”
He had no doubt that Borak was right, but he had already run this idea by General Nasrith and received approval. Any potential, newly created city would still be under his authority and pay taxes to the greater Tal’Qamari government, so Nasrith had no reason to oppose the scheme.
“While I don’t understand her reasoning, the Serene One has bid me to support your endeavors to the best of my ability, whatever that may be worth” Kinta said simply, her voice steady and calm.
Zareth felt a wave of relief wash over as he received the final agreement. This was only the first step of the plan that he and Cerebon had settled on and the one that he had been most confident in successfully implementing, but it was still a crucial one.
Feeling excited, he immediately called someone to retrieve a map of Valandor and began discussing the logistics of their ambitious plan. This was far too significant for just the four of them to handle on their own, so it would be best to formulate a proposal that would gain as much support as possible.
They would need it, as the Great Houses would know what they were planning almost immediately and respond with the full force of their considerable influence. But as minutes stretched on into hours and their group gradually began to lose their initial reservations, he found himself far less worried than he expected.
And that was because he could see the beginning of an alliance that had the ability to reshape the very fabric of Tal’Qamar.