Hugh, Elody, and Sam continued their journey north through the River Collective, occasionally making small stops to sell goods, and occasionally buy items that Sam felt confident he could resell later. Elody’s goods were especially popular, but sold out far faster than she could replenish them. She intended to make a small supply of a couple different products, but Sam urged her to focus on the anti-itch ointment that invariably sold out as fast as she could make.

  As they traveled, the sights slowly shifted around them. While the canal beside the road was a constant, everything else morphed as they progressed. The manner of dress, the facilities available, the manner of food and even the architecture shifted as they ventured further into the River Collective. Where they had entered, bordering Snif lands, the architecture was unadorned, and practical. By the time they had made their first stop, the architecture was much shorter and had many narrow alleys, given the nearby Saried enclave. As they traveled, each nearby enclave influenced the Riverfolk construction as much as the Riverfolk influenced theirs.

  One feature they had not yet seen were any Temples. They had spotted several neighborhood shrines to commonly revered deities such as Trade, Tranquility, and Family, so the sight of a large, imposing temple in the colors of Strife came as a surprise. Decked in vibrant violet and orange, the enormous building clashed with the otherwise largely spring-time colors of the nearby neighborhood.

  “Why the hell is there a Temple to Strife here?” Sam asked incredulously.

  “Why would anyone build a Temple to Strife?” Elody asked. “He sucks!”

  Hugh turned to his companions, a look of ‘What the hell is wrong with you two’ written across his large, muzzled face.

  “Oh, don’t give me that look Hugh, we’re talking about literal Strife here! He stands for horrible things being done just because it gives everyone a hard time! It’s literally in the name!”

  Hugh continued to look at Elody, his expression softening somewhat, but not relenting.

  “I’ve heard of murderers praying to him, you know,” Elody continued. “Apparently, he looks on them favorably!”

  “Says the aspirational murderer,” Hugh sighed.

  “What was that?” Elody asked, taken aback by Hugh’s attitude.

  “You don’t actually know much about it, do you?” Hugh asked.

  Elody paused, looking around as though she had walked into an ambush. Nothing came for her, just the slow passing of the neighborhood as they continued to get closer to the Temple.

  “Strife was one of the gods we venerated in my village, you know,” Hugh said. He was leaning back and looking up at the roof of the wagon as he spoke. “We venerated a few of the Myriad Gods, you know. Hunting, Craftsmen, Strife, and Celebration were the most important ones. We prayed to Hunting that our prospected remained good, and also to help with Maril’s deal when that happened. The goddess of Craftsmen was popular because her blessings made our homes better and our tools sharper. Celebration helped our community stay together, especially during the long nights of winter.”

  Hugh stopped talking, but did not shift position, continuing to look at the ceiling. Elody was unsure if she should speak, but he said nothing. She realized he was leaving an opening to ask the obvious.

  “How does Strife fit in?” Elody asked.

  “I am glad you asked,” Hugh said. “We gave offerings to Strife as a way of placating him. As a way to keep us going. We would offer sparring matches or other contests, as a way of deciding things when argument broke out. By embracing Strife, we avoided his wrath, and we were better for it.”

  Hugh now turned to look at Elody.

  “I do not know if that is why the people here revere him. But do not be so myopic as to assume that everyone simply wants more of whatever a god is named primarily named for.”

  “I–” Elody started, then drew back. “I guess I never thought about that. I’ve only ever cared about the ones immediately relevant to my work, I suppose.”

  “Did you?” Hugh asked “Or did you like their names?”

  Elody didn’t know how to respond to Hugh at this point, and said nothing.

  “Perhaps, Elody, you should try to learn a little more about them,” Hugh offered.

  “Don’t we have bigger things to deal with right now?” Elody pointed out. “We’re kind of trying to head north and all, plus you’re trying to learn abou-”

  “Sam,” Hugh interjected, “Could we stop here so Elody may make some inquiries?”

  “Now hold on a minute! Why do you think I need this so badly all of a sudden?” Elody demanded.

  Here, Hugh looked Elody in the eyes. Or rather, he turned his head so one of his eyes could glare right into hers.

  “Elody, your stated mission is to seek revenge on the man who exiled you. I think this is within the purview of Strife,” Hugh explained.

  “Or Revenge! Or Murder!” Elody said in exasperation.

  “I do not see any convenient temples to them nearby,” Hugh said with a grin. “Strife? I do.”

  “Can I get a word in edgewise?” Sam groaned. “I’ll pull over if the two of you shut the hell up!”

Hugh’s grin was unrelenting as Elody crossed her arms, exuding melodrama as she pouted.

  “Fine!” She huffed, “I’ll go ask! Gods!”

  “That would be the point,” Hugh smirked.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

  Once they were parked, Elody walked to the Temple. They had passed it only slightly, and was still less than a minute’s walk from where they stopped. The main level of the temple was situated high on a stone platform kept dark by the windowless walls and gabled roof. Steep stairs carved out of the rock led up to all sides of the temple, despite the fact that there was only a single point of ingress: An enormously tall and heavy looking pair of double doors. Elody looked at the entrance and groaned.

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  “Of course a temple of Strife would make it tough to even get inside,” she muttered.

  Despite her comments, she tackled the stairs without hesitation, though not without complaint. She swore under her breath as she climbed the narrow steps, barely fitting her foot on any given step. The stone steps were sanded and smoothed, promising a nasty fall should she lose her footing. Continuing to grumble, she made her way to the top of the ten-foot flight of stairs.

  Now past the sadistic incline, she looked up at the doors that seemed to be the only way in. She pushed on one, but it did not budge. She wondered idly if it was stuck, only to realize the door had a handle, and was meant to be pulled. It would swing all the way to the edge of the steps, so she would either have to duck out of the way as it swung open, or go back down some of the steps and back up again just to enter. Continuing to mutter expletives, she opted for the latter option, not wishing to slip in haste. Moments later, she was inside.

  The interior was dim, with several braziers lit towards the back providing the only light. As the flames flickered, shadows danced around the room. A single figure stood at the back. He was clearly one of the riverfolk, given his squat-like standing posture and prominent muzzle. Like all Riverfolk, his eyes and ears were both small for his head, his eyes especially beady in the flicking light. Unlike most Riverfolk, he held a spear to his side and was clad in bronze armor that shone in the flickering light. He was facing the entrance, and Elody as a result, though if that was because he heard the sound of the door or if he simply stayed like that, she did not know.

  “Congratulations,” said the man, amusement clear in his voice. His voice was deeper than most Riverfolk, and less breathy.

  “Are you trying to make it hard to get in here?” Elody asked as she bent over, trying to catch her breath.

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Said the man. “I am one of the priests here. My name is Ortho Cartwright.”

  “Elody Kyne.”

  Ortho nodded. As Elody approached him, she stepped into the flickering light of the braziers.

  “Ah, I knew you were an odd visitor by the hour you’ve come at,” Ortho said, “But now I see just how unusual this visit is. You are Adstrani, yes?”

  Elody blinked.

  “Oh, yes, I am. Sorry, I’m so used to another of my companions getting the weird looks that sometimes I forget I really am as out of place as I feel,” Elody said.

  Ortho closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating.

  “I’ve seen other Adstrani over the years,” he said, “But yes, you are quite out of place. What brings you here, of all places?”

  “I got bullied into it,” Elody explained.

  Ortho raised an eyebrow.

  “My friend Hugh told me I should learn more about Strife, so here I am,” she elaborated.

  “Strife?” The priest asked. “I don’t hear that name often.”

  Elody looked around, confused.

  “This is the Temple of Strife, right?”

  Ortho shook his head, a sly smile forming on his lips.

  “This is a Temple to him, but we call him something different,” he explained. “He who Toils. The Endless Struggle. The Indomitable Spirit. That is whom we worship here.”

  Ortho gestured to nearby cushions and took a seat. Elody did the same.

  “You know, after saying you call him things like ‘endless struggle’, I’d have thought you’d make us stand the whole time,” Elody noted.

  Ortho laughed, a harsher sound than Elody was prepared for.

  “Maybe elsewhere,” he admitted, “But not here. Here, we have an understanding with Him, and what He stands for.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That everything you struggle for should be for a purpose,” Ortho explained, sweeping his arm to gesture to the temple. “We reflect that here. You must struggle to get in, to show your own indomitability and perseverance. Some steep stairs and a heavy door is a trifling offering, but an offering nonetheless. I must stand to await anything that may come, guest or trouble. Now, I aim to help someone who has made her offering and wishes to learn.”

  “This doesn’t sound a lot like the God of Strife,” Elody said, confused.

  “No?” He asked. “What does Strife mean, then?”

  “I feel like this is a trick question.”

  “Humor me?”

  “Doesn’t strife mean… conflict? Interpersonal friction? Antagonism?” Elody ventured.

  Ortho made a so-so motion with his free paw.

  “It can,” He admitted, “But that is far from the full scope of what he encompasses. Much like how a family is so much more than parent and child, Strife encompasses many things. Tell me, Elody, what does it mean to be Strife?”

Elody felt that was an odd question. Were it not being posed by a priest, she would have questioned if it was heretical. She pondered the idea, wondering what it could mean, but came up blank, and shook her head.

  “It means to strive, Elody,” he explained. “What does that mean?”

  Elody started to see where he was going, but decided it would be best to go along with it.

  “It means to try very hard,” she said, “or to put all your effort into something.”

  “Very good. What do you strive for, Elody Kyne? What is it that you put your effort into?”

  “I’m trying to get back home. I’m trying to right the wrong that put me so far from home,” she said.

  “Again, good. And then what?”

  It was such a simple question, yet it took Elody entirely off guard.

  “What do you mean? That’s my goal.”

  “This is the Temple of the Endless Struggle, not the Temple of One-and-Done,” Ortho said with a smirk. “Even if you aim to conclude your own life with this task, which I do not recommend, what happens when you achieve your goals? How does that affect your family, the community, the world? Why does it matter?”

  Elody shifted uncomfortably on the cushion, unable to answer.

  “Your friend was right to send you here, Elody. If you cannot answer these questions, then you needed to hear them. The teachings of my god are to better the world through action and conflict. Ask yourself what matters about your goals, and keep doing what matters, even once you have reached them.”

  Ortho stood up, a smooth and easy action despite the metal armor he wore.

  “Thank you for visiting our temple, Elody, but I sense you now have what you came for,” he said.

Elody stood and thanked the priest, and left the Temple of the Indomitable Spirit. Carefully making her way down the treacherous steps, she went back to the wagon.

  “Well?” Sam asked. “Get yer ear talked off?”

  “Yeah, a bit,” she snickered.

  “Did you learn anything relevant?” Hugh asked.

  “I didn’t really get any answers,” Elody said, “But I did get a lot of good questions. I think these questions are worth more than the answers.”