With a number of the villagers’ homes having been burned down during the raid of the previous night, the village church had been converted into a shelter for the homeless. Children ran through the church laughing loudly as they played their games, while the men and women of the village tried to salvage what they could from the destroyed houses. Fires had been made next to the church, where villagers had gotten together to prepare meals for all those who had spent their day working to help clear the rubble of fallen houses, as well as those who had lost their homes.
Under the supervision of Calvin and Jackson, the villagers had started using the rubble from destroyed buildings to block any pathways into the village other than the main entrance, in the hopes of ensuring that they could funnel the attacking bandits down a single path and make them easier to deal with. Meanwhile, Riegert had spent his day assessing the fighting abilities of the villagers to see who if any would be able to assist them in fighting off the onslaught that was sure to happen that night. It came as no surprise to him that in a village of farmers, the only person with any true ability for fighting was Kattalina, the young woman who had accosted them earlier that day. So, to ensure that they did not needlessly put themselves in harm’s way, Riegert decided that he would arm the villagers and have them simply stand guard for their own families, responsible for fighting only those who managed to get past him and his party.
“Um, Mr Fell, Father Ingstrum asked me to ask if you wouldn’t mind speaking with him in his office?” said a young woman who had appeared at Fellaroth’s side as he helped the others clear the rubble.
“Don’t you worry about us Fell, you’ve done more than enough for the people of this village, feel free to take a break and go speak with The Father.” Said an older man who had been working alongside him.
“Very well, but I will return as soon as I’m done!”
“You needn’t rush son; you’ve done plenty today!” the old man called after Fellaroth as he headed for the church.
Fellaroth climbed the few steps to the church and pushed open its large doors, allowing a group of laughing children to run past him as he did. “Don’t you go disturbing the people that are working out there!” called a mother after the group of children, to which she got a unified response, “We won’t!” Fellaroth did his best to smile at the church’s new inhabitants, who had put up dividers to cordon off areas for each family, creating a small town within the church. At the back of the church, Fellaroth walked through another door, which led him into a small corridor with only three doors in it, two were on the wall to his left, and one was on the far wall, while the wall to his right had three sizeable windows in it. Knocking on the second door to his left, as he had been told to do, Fellaroth said, “Father, you wished to speak with me?”
After a few moments, Fellaroth could hear some rustling from within as the priest was clearly scrambling to tidy up his office. ‘I would have thought he was prepared.’ He thought to himself. ‘Especially considering that I am here at his request.’
“Just a moment, Fell, I will be right with you!” called the priest’s almost frantic voice from within. A few moments later, the door to the priest’s office swung open, allowing Fellaroth his first view of the room beyond. “Please do come in!” added the priest, stepping aside. The room was a small one, with the wall to the right being covered entirely in bookshelves that were littered with books of every description, and the wall to the left baring a single large portrait of Mythus, in front of which stood a stone podium with a gold lined bowl carved into its top, which was filled with water and a single floating lit candle. In the centre of the room, consuming most of the space, was a large table with one chair behind it and two in front of it. The desk was covered with a number of holy texts and off to one side was a small mountain of paperwork that appeared to have been hastily pushed aside. A painfully obvious clear space at the centre of the desk, directly in front of the priest’s chair caught Fellaroth’s attention as The Father closed the door and asked him to take a seat.
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“Let’s not beat around the bush here, Fell, your true name is Fellaroth, God of Prosperity and Good Fortune, is it not?”
“I am surprised that someone in this world actually knows who I am.” Answered Fellaroth, taken aback by this turn of events.
“I will be honest with you, Lord Fellaroth, I didn’t know who you were, I had to look you up in this ancient holy text.” Said the priest, producing a large book from a drawer and placing it on the table, perfectly filling the cleared space.
“I see, and what made you want to look up this information in the first place?”
“It was your healing magic. Normal healing magic knits a wound back together using the skin around it, and almost always leaves a scar. Your magic, on the other hand, made it as though the wounds never happened. I also noticed that you closed your eyes when you cast those spells, I can only assume that this is because your eyes glow when you use God-level magic.”
“That was very perceptive of you Father Ingstrum, does anyone else in this village know of this?”
“They do not, though I don’t understand why you are hiding your true self from the world.”
“I am a forgotten God, Father Ingstrum, I have no place in this world anymore.”
“If that were true, might I ask why it is that you are in the mortal realm?”
“All Gods aside from Mythus are currently in the mortal realm, we are undergoing a form of punishment if you will. We are to remain here in the mortal world until we can set the world back on the right path once more.”
“Wait, you said you were being punished? Who exactly has the power to punish the Gods?”
“He is a great being that has long since been forgotten by the mortal races. His name is Aerabus, and he is the Progenitor God, he who came before all others.”
“Alright, I have far too many questions about that for right now, so I will rather ask, why exactly are the Gods being punished?”
“I cannot speak to the reasons for the other Gods being punished, however, for my part, I feel that my punishment is for allowing myself to be replaced by those false Gods. That is my mission to rectify in this world.”
“Is there any way that I can help you with this task?”
“If you have any information about these new Gods, I would greatly appreciate it.”
“Unfortunately, I do not. Each of my predecessors chose to learn about no God other than Mythus. What I can tell you is, that religion is a very new one, only a few hundred years old, but for being so young it is amassing followers at an alarming rate. It saddens me to see that the race of men is so easily swayed by such evil teachings.”
“Humanity has always wanted to find a way to feel superior, especially considering that the other races are not only far longer lived, but also stronger and more capable with magic. However, they always fail to see that these attributes alone are not enough to declare any race superior to another, each has their strengths and their shortcomings.”
“No offense Lord Fellaroth, but you have mentioned what makes the other races different from us, but what exactly makes us different from them?”
“That is far simpler than you may think, it’s our ingenuity. Did you know that humans created the first enchanted weapons to help bridge the gap in abilities between us and the other races? It was done by a masterful blacksmith by the name of Araclease, who just so happens to have been friends with Mythus when he was still mortal. Then there was The Great Mage Elodrian, my twin sister, who took the idea of enchanted weapons and over many years of experimentation, developed the first magic staff that was capable of amplifying a human’s magical power until it was able to rival that of an elf. Sure, the other races have since improved on these inventions, but they would never have come up with them, because they were already naturally powerful.”
“I had no idea that these were things that were created by the hands of humans!”
“The problem is our short lives. There are so many great things that have been invented by humans that it quite literally fills many libraries across this world. We simply cannot live long enough to learn of all the amazing feats that humans have accomplished, and over time, these feats seem so amazing that we simply attribute them to the older races.”
“I would like to ask you one last thing, Lord Fellaroth. Would you mind if I started to preach to my congregation about Fellaroth, the God of Prosperity and Good Fortune?”
“I would not stop you from doing such a thing, however, I would ask that for the time being at least, you not spread the word of my having returned to this realm. I feel it would make it far more difficult for me to travel this world.”
“As you wish, Lord Fellaroth, until you make your presence known to the world, this village will keep your secret.”
“Could you also refrain from calling me Lord Fellaroth in front of my party? I would rather they not know that they are travelling with a God.”
“That won’t be a problem, My Lord… Um, Fell.”