--- Aphrodite POV
My son returns to me as my Priest, his devotion proven and my heart fills with joy. Without any shame, I bless him with my favour. Directly after though, five minds explore my presence, inquisitive, analysing, trying to comprehend and reason the nature of our relationship. A Priest is one, leading four Adepts and yet the individuals combine. Not demanding, a patient curiosity.
“I apologise, Grand Master Mateus, an unintentional consequence of your communing.”
“Yours, an invitation only, ours by choice, acceptance or rejection. After analysis, we choose acceptance, the concept of worship intriguing and worthy of contemplation. You see, well of course you do … after many years our efforts to attain greater enlightenment now stagnate, we did seek an answer in other Beast Kin, although an unconvincing half-hearted attempt, our superior snobbery I am afraid. Even though we realise our failings, we still choose to follow through, to be certain regardless of wasted effort. Everything to a final conclusion.”
“You are far away and yet your Masters, are nearby …?”
He is satisfied in some way.
“You are correct, a deliberate test on my part to hide amongst my Masters, and yet you discern the truth. My Masters quickly relocated to the Great Temple sacrificing a portion of their soul for [Magiclink]. Combining our meditation with your Divine Magic we re-established our commune. This system of faith is malleable and responsive and we have subverted your Shrine in our House of Harmony to yield [Magiclink] instead of [Bless Maiden], a more useful spell to us I think you would agree.”
An analysis, no humour, a hint of superiority.
“Many more Grand Masters eavesdropped on our experiment and are eager to begin their experiments, although as a Priest of your religion I am pleased to say I will be recognised as the leading authority and I am hopeful our journey together will be fruitful. To begin I plan to expand the Shrine before me into a Temple as soon as possible to recruit more followers and expand the number and variety of your magic available to us, so I petition you to grow and we will ensure we do our part.”
The five minds break contact as one with their Goddess, I presume, to set about delivering on their plans. A frothy bubbling excitement hides behind a reserved exterior keen to explore beyond a previously unassailable limitation. In a state of semi-shock, I find myself momentarily infected by their way of expression and need to deliberately shake my mind to be free.
---
“He Who Wrestles, know your Goddess now speaks to you …”
I feel him stagger and grab for a tribesman beside him. They offer him support and he gently brushes them aside, smoothing fur ruffles as his bravery returns standing strong and tall.
“I am honoured, my Goddess …”
He wonders what I will demand of him, wondering if the price will be too high. He gambles his Tribe’s future on worshipping me and therefore I must reward his risk taking.
“I command you to build a Temple around your Shrine. Pilgrim to the Stone Giant’s Village and pray within the Great Temple there to gain the necessary knowledge and return to your Tribe triumphant. What your tribe lacks to accomplish this will be provided, ask and your High Priestess will attempt to supply.”
“As you command my Goddess …”
“Why?” I know he understands the question and I await his response.
“We have shed many tears Goddess for the many brave hunters who have perished, and we need to be reborn and breathe new life into the world, strong and wise and find our place again. Only a King of a Pride can harness the tribal will to a common purpose and only a Goddess of Fertility can assure us of many healthy births.”
His ribald mirth is infectious, as his thoughts reveal he plans on fathering many such births himself, a burden of course and yet an essential duty he is willing to perform for the benefit of his Pride given the lack of male Lion Kin.
---
“Your other Priests and Priestess’ command your attention my Goddess so I am glad for this opportunity.”
Nasim. His humour familiar, his camaraderie more so and I welcome him.
“We prepare to assist Priest Jex with the construction of his Temple and if time and materials permit the upgrade of some village buildings dragging the black round stone from the river to do so. They easily gather the stone, children especially. Perhaps at a later date, we can dress their black buildings in marble white, for now, though it is the best we can manage.”
“I am glad you do, theirs is a sad tale and I am not sure if in the coming days I will be able to heal them of their pain or instead become their enemy …”
“I wish you wisdom to navigate their grief Goddess and now I must continue to prepare. Many of my Clan are Initiates no longer and as Adepts, they play a leadership role within the village, which I intend to leverage for your benefit Goddess.”
“Go forth in my name Priest Nasim.”
---
A plate of food floats under my nose. “Are you still required to eat Goddess?” asks little sister.
My stomach gurgles in response. “I believe I do.” I flash her a quick smile and then partake.
Big sister paces, stops and then directly faces me. “Where do you intend to go next, Goddess?”
“I must walk the Quest Trail and face my Truth.” I place a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t expect you or little sister to escort me, in fact, I need to face this test alone.”
She releases a long breath, the grey in her cheeks darkening slightly.
“Stay and assist the High Priestess, both of you have served me well, therefore I am sure you will attend to her with equal dedication.” My other hand rests on little sister’s shoulder and I capture their eyes in turn. “I will return come what may, I swear.”
Before I leave the room now aware that I can, I mentally withdraw my Divine Dominate Aura, one innate benefit of ascending to Minor Goddess providing me protection from random interruption, friendly or hostile. I suspect the Neophyte isn’t granted such a boon, as a subtle test; an invitation open to all, to challenge the aspiring God or Goddess to ensure they are suitable for the position they aspire to. I imagine the slow rise, Site, Shrine and then possibly Temple and attracting unwanted attention along the way. I whisper a silent thank-you to my benefactor once again.
As I step through into the Temple proper expecting bedlam I pause instead, none remain within.
“Everyone is about their duties.” A shy voice informs me as I swivel to confront the owner.
The young Fox Kin inspects me as I try to understand her presence in the Great Temple.
“I am new, a Lay Member of Goddess Aphrodite, you seem … I apologise if I overstep as there isn’t a clear way of determining rank and/or importance as yet, perhaps too soon. For now, I am tasked with greeting petitioners and determining their needs. Although mostly I simply escort them to the High Priestess.”
I nod, somewhat bemused.
“Do you require an audience with the High Priestess?”
“No,” I answer. “I have another task to perform. Take care.”
She courtesies and I leave her to her duty.
A Temple functionary perhaps?
“I believe so Goddess …”
I sense his amusement and choose not to reply and instead concentrate on preparation and gathering what I think I need before presenting myself to the unknown. I try to estimate the countdown of my freedom; a hurrying run on the trail from my Great Temple to the start of the Quest Trail will complete my third day. The fourth day would be spent completing the Geas, maybe part of the fifth and then return to my Temple or do I transform into Manticore and make for the Dungeon of Arsu? The shortest path will take me over Azizos …
Do I need to be a ground bound Stone Giant any longer? Climb the stairs to the roof of my Temple or simply hide in the shadow of a cottage and transform into Manticore and fly directly to the start of the Quest Trail and I would still be within day three when I begin the Geas. The Manticore form is the problem, once the spikes from its tail are thrown, I would only have claws and bite. The transformation will take time, although within the Temple immaterial. Someone will have to “load me” up with my weapons and pack if I plan to then transform back to Stone Giant or simply Living Construct to complete the Geas.
---
Her stealth is near perfect and yet she cannot escape my awareness. She is an Initiate of Aphrodite and I know when they are nearby, as easily I do an Adept or Priest. The less devoted Lay Members are perhaps the exception. They exchange occasional worship and usually money to purchase skills and spells from the Temple, an almost purely transactional arrangement. Not that I have witnessed such, somehow, I know. My benefactor interrupts my moment of realisation.
“The System, your education is based upon what has been transferred from the Greek Pantheon and possibly elsewhere. You need to provide the answers to your faithful and there is no point in misunderstandings when the rules have been established elsewhere and precedent already set,” he informs me almost casually.
“Are they inflexible?”
“Is worship?”
The Tiger Kin certainly bent the purpose of their faraway Shrine to suit their needs so I assume, if the will is strong enough, the answer is no.
“Why do you think Initiate Dilia, Emissary Party Scout follows her Goddess?” I ask.
“I don’t think she does, I think she has sniffed out an exception to everyone else in the Stone Giant’s village by observation and is inquisitive … Perhaps she senses you are searching for Truth and she places herself on the same Geas?”
“What truth can she find on the Quest Trail? The Tears of Blood, not her doing.”
He chuckles in his own way. “Ask her?”
I scoff. When she follows me to the point of no return I will decide. For now, I sprint along the trail leading away from my Great Temple, sword sheathed upon one hip, quiver on the other and bow strung across my back competing with my backpack. After several casual steps, I decide to test my running speed and endurance, a Lesser Goddess in the body shape of a Stone Giant and hope the time taken is less than the number of alternatives already considered.
---
The cobblestones underfoot don’t slow me, the brush begins to crowd the trail, and shortly after trees and finally the full gloom of the forest escorts me. I stop before a wall of fog. Where I stand, feeble morning sunlight tries to warm my grey skin flesh. Within reach of my outstretched arm, a wall or solid cliff face of vapour warns me. My eyes scan up the wall and I lose focus; I am certain there is a definite height and yet the sky eludes me. I blink my eyes to regain focus. I step forward.
{You have entered the Spirit Path Dungeon: Tears of Blood.}
{Your Geas will hold you on the Path until completion or failure.}
[Lesser Goddess Aphrodite, while within the Spirit Path Dungeon is immune to Dungeon Dominate constraints, link to Quest Dungeon of Azizos severed.]
“How is this trail a Dungeon?”
“The power of a name and the will of many Goddess, both trapped within, others guilt ridden and/or mourning those lost within and the naming of the path by even more who know of its existence either firsthand, second hand and probably exaggerated rumour growing into legend.”
Guilt ridden he says, yes, I would fall into that group of contributors, what would the singular influence of a newly empowered Lesser Goddess add to the creation of this Dungeon. I ask myself the question and yet share my thought. “What have I done?”
“This power of creation begins with the will of many, the same belief system which your faithful empower you and instead of investing in a Goddess they invest in a name, Tears of Blood. How can you be so surprised?”
“Are you saying you weren’t?”
“I suspected, after all before my power was completely diminished, I still held an awareness of my Dominion and the changes being wrought, including this one.”
My hands briefly grab at my head. “Argh, when I dwelled upon my options, days left before forced respawn, you didn’t think to mention the Quest Trail could now be a Dungeon and my calculations for naught?”
His contact flits in and out, on and off. My comments are an insult or perhaps he judges them harsh.
“Sensing a change and being certain of the details are two different things. What if I declared to you the Quest Trail now a Dungeon and when we arrive, my assumption false or the power of the creation not enough to sever your link to Azizos, this conversation would be more acrimonious I am certain.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
He is right of course. Better to calculate for the worst case … “I apologise.”
“Accepted. Although now here, you either succeed or fail, there is an implied threat if you falter, the consequences unknown …”
I release a breath and swallow, to success then.
A heavy morning mist extends out before me, the trees and thick undergrowth of the forest on either side of the trail, hem in the rolling swirling landbound clouds, the early morning sunlight unable or unwilling to burn it away, a trick of the Dungeon I suspect. In the distance rounded tops of hillocks peek above the heavy ground mist, at my feet though, a single dismembered Lizard Kin corpse, still moist, rotting, headless, an arm and two legs missing. Taking a single step forward I prod the dead body with the broadleaf spear tip of the Hunting Spear I borrowed from big sister. A squelch as I push.
Mist swirls and darts before me, charging retreating and yet unable to make contact. I cast [Soul Sight]. The mist flashes into an angry, bright blood red, Lizard Kin eyes and jaws bloody and dripping seeking to consume my spirit and after victory, claim my soul. My will and Divine Dominate crush the attempt instantly, nothing like the back-and-forth contest Alba waged with me so long ago. The difference is not lost on me and I breathe a minute of relief.
“Is my journey finished? No. I am still nowhere. Never will I be remembered. Who will speak for me and recount my deeds around the campfires of my ancestors? Who inflicted this misery? Restless, forever in torment an inglorious, shameful half-death. There lies my dismembered corpse and yet I am not reborn …” The pale wisp of the Spirit dives down as proof.
This is one. As I peer through the mist, how many more? Yet I don’t understand, countless Essence Messages from the System told me of their demise, of my victories, until I could bear the guilt no longer and dismissed them.
His grave voice groans as if resting on my shoulder and close to my ear, instead he whispers directly into my mind. “The System reported what affected you. The destruction of the fortunate ones capable of full death, yielding you their essence. They completed the cycle, Spirit and Soul descending, returning to the Land, their Soul polished ready for re-use the memories of the Spirit’s past life forever gone and finally their Body returning to Soil. These are not those …”
How many have I cursed to a half existence?
I see the one before me. “I am the one who has denied you. I am responsible for your pain …”
“Wwww…Hhhh…Yyyy…” The spirit’s howl chills my flesh, bone and soul, the divisions of Sentient, Monster and Dungeon not immune from the driving grief, the weight of which drops me to my knees, tears streaming down my face.
My folly, disease laced with savage revenge and I, ignorant of the consequences. Consumed by an unknown loss, trying to fill the sudden hollow in my heart. Motherhood; tasted and forgotten, the spark. Harpy filth the means. I realise now, a confusing death for the victims, the weak succumbing quietly to their fate, those of stronger will fighting to stay beyond the death of their body determined to complete their lives according to their world view. Others waiting for an explanation.
His whisper interrupts my sorrow, “I am sorry …” And truly, I am also. I settle down onto the Trail. “Tell me your story and I will ensure your ancestors will hear.” I [Magiclink] to a Lizard Kin Adept of Aphrodite. The Dungeon resists at first until finally granting passage due to my Geas.
His past brief, part of the Lizard Kin expedition to clear the Trail and then enter the Dungeon. His dream is to return as a conquering hero. A youth looking forward with hope, imagining glory. I am certain the Dungeon would have only delivered death to him and yet for all that a more certain death than this, even if Azizos didn’t polish his Soul as completely as he should.
When he falls silent, reflecting upon his own words I suspect, I release him, and he flicks away as if sucked into a vortex. The mist rolls back into the vacuum left by his departure and his corpse shrivels, drying rapidly regardless of the moisture in the surrounds, a pent-up process held back and now catching up.
There are others like him, tethered to a destroyed or dismembered corpse and I treat them equally. I shortly discover they are the exception, most of the spirits develop limited movement by animating their cold dead endlessly bleeding corpses. These attempt a physical attack first, which I easily defeat. The single possible danger is when a troop erupts from one of the hillocks as one, most containing over twenty shambling corpses. Due to my Divinity, I am immune to their attacks, although I cast [Protect Being (Spirit)] on myself to test the spell as much as anything before I wade through the spirits to subdue them and then listen.
After several hundred I thought I would be numb to their stories and yet I needed to accept the responsibility of my offence, interrupting the start of their life journey or adventurous continuation or simply the twilight. An enormous weight of guilt builds up with each listening, fathers, mothers, and siblings to be told their tale. On many occasions they didn’t know, warriors of a family in prison here and no father alive to tell, no son to retell a father’s tale. Or if one or more are not here, others tell of neighbours, Pride or Clan friends they carted here as corpses. With each new story added to the others, my tears run dry and my stomach empties from retching. Such destruction of dreams.
The number continues to climb. Five hundred? There is no absolute changeover of day to night, time blends into a continuous long stay, perpetual dusk. The numbers are great due to the Tears of Blood Trail becoming a disposal ground for the dead from Quest Town. The stories being told are not always about conquering the Dungeon, often including simple, yet important things like gathering around the campfire or house heath one last time with their family and being unable to say a final goodbye causing them to linger. My grief of course tortured all the more when I would often listen to individuals recounting stories of them and their families, the overlap of names confirming the affliction destroying whole families and yet such was the calamity, that family members were not always laid to rest together.
Finally, the spirits lamenting their death, because of the disposal work, so much toil for so few as the bodies couldn’t remain in Quest Town. The corpses wouldn’t cleanly burn due to the bloody corruption, instead, a pallid smoke would result when set to fire issuing a horrid stench, thought to spread the disease further and never again attempted. Throughout I [Magiclink] to a same Beast Kin Adept as the spirit to ensure their living years aren’t forgotten, to be retold around a campfire, a hearth or within a sermon.
Amongst the sorrow, a System Message, one of my Priests succeeding in consecrating my first Temple. A bitter laugh escapes my lips between sobs.
[Consecration of Temple +5% Divine Dominate. Total Divine Dominate 64%]
---
Towards the end of the Tears of Blood Trail, I catch glimpses of the distant black basalt Dungeon Wall occasionally viewable when thinning trees subject to a strong enough breeze collaborate perfectly. Directly in front of me, several spirits gather in a semi-circle, sharing a common focus upon one unremarkable tuff of grass on the trail. I say unremarkable because many other identical tuffs of grass grow beside or nearby.
No corpses present, so disembodied, they snap around to face me except they aren’t formless wisps. They claim mist, soil, twigs and leaves to create an artistic physical form, what I can only believe are approximations of their real bodies, heads, arms, and legs without the fine detail. Their words enter my mind via Spirit Speech, [Soul Sight] unnecessary and I wonder how and then the anguish in their voices can’t be ignored.
“WHY DID YOU MURDER US COWARD AND STEAL OUR FUTURE DEEDS?”
“Why Did You Murder Us Coward and Steal Our Future Deeds?”
“Why did you murder us coward, and steal our future deeds?”
“Why Did You Murder Us Coward and Steal Our Future Deeds?”
“Why did you murder us coward and steal our future deeds?”
“How do they know I am to blame?”
“Ask them?” he replies to me.
“Why do you accuse me?”
“We accuse all to discover the truth, we are driven by this need. We seek to move on.”
They sweep forward clearing the fog, each voice adding to another, each diving and rising, a maddening chorus of asking the same line of questioning. My mind echoes their words within, deafening my thoughts and clouding my ability to reason until I seek respite through confession.
“It was I.”
“Finally!” they gasp as one, like air rushing from confinement.
A pause and then an avalanche of senseless rage assaults my soul.
I am unable to prepare, and they punish me. [Soul weakened -5% Divine Dominate. Total Divine Dominate 59%]
A question follows quickly after as my mind reels back, spirit and soul still bruising. “Why did you condemn us to half-death?”
“I didn’t know…” My weak response is morally bereft and their question rips at my soul again. [Soul weakened -10% Divine Dominate. Total Divine Dominate 49%]
They squat within my mind, directly assailing my soul. “We demand our release!”
A wraith, buzzing, red eyes manifests and strikes true, piercing my soul. [Soul weakened -15% Divine Dominate. Total Divine Dominate 34%]
[Total Divine Dominate falls below 44%: Lessor Goddess Aphrodite demoted to Minor Goddess Aphrodite.]
I concentrate my Divinity seeking a haven at first and then a means to repel them, deny them. In response a gathering fog cloaks my scattering of the bright fiery spirits, a tumbling grey-blackness in sympathy with their mood and within, hidden, yet growing, I detect a spirit presence arising.
Half a heartbeat and a huge figure charges through, the fog parting before the raging lifelike behemoth … muscle rippling beneath thick leather skin, a sheen of moisture glistening as two muscular arms coordinate overhead to swing down a huge double-sided axe grasped in clawed hands. Dark red blood spilling from his eyes captures my attention causing me to freeze in place. The axe lands, the cutting edge held a finger-width away, screeching down the length of my nose and yet unable to follow through and split my head in half. The towering Lizard Kin drags his axe away as he follows through, the bit of the blade skidding across the invisible barrier afforded by my Divinity. He issues a hissing howl, eyes blazing, splashes of crimson spraying from both, while taking a step back.
His red orbs focus on me, regardless of the bloody showering, revaluating his target. The next swing is a cross blow, and again the axe bit screams off my invisible barrier. His attacks I realise a Spirit attack like Alba upon me and yet I stand helpless. Overwhelming guilt consumes me. This noble Lizard Kin is my victim, my responsibility … mine and no one else.
Two glowing eyes steal a look from under the protruding bridge of his brow. “Have you come to taunt us in our misery with your invulnerability, our impotence?” He screams now. “Our deaths are incomplete, even though our story should end without bodies.” His words falter. “We are unable to be reborn anew and begin again while suffering the loss of our legends, our Kin unable to remember us and retell our deeds around the campfire generation after generation to live forever in myth.” His blood is gone; his eyes smoulder a fierce red.
Then silence.
The others return puncturing the fog, red flashes, now bereft of their body caricatures darting around their champion, the sole slave to half-death able to manifest his true spirit form.
I can’t outwait the silence. “My deed led to your anguish. I am the guilty one. Me! Me! Me! I confess. Your search is over.”
In reply they chant as one, “We observed your placation of the others, the lessor ones…, we demand more …”
They find their voice; the spirits are granted true speech to assault my ears.
“WHY … WERE WE SUBJECT TO YOUR WRATH?”
They repeat the accusation over and over. They chip away at my will as I can’t answer them with a reason … then I shudder. [Soul weakened -5% Divine Dominate. Total Divine Dominate 29%]
They sense my weakening and change their tune to focus on another injustice.
“Why … Were We Forced To Pay For Your Grief?”
The cycle repeats and I have no clear explanation to offer … the weight of accusation forces me to my knees. [Soul weakened -5% Divine Dominate. Total Divine Dominate 24%]
Revelling in my display of weakness, confidence oozes from their next chant.
“Why … were we, noble Beast Kin, chosen as your victims?”
Because you were there, nearby and my unknown loss somehow related to one of your Kin … these are the thoughts that spring to mind. Somewhat fate, mostly convenience I admit to myself. My punishment is immediate. [Soul weakened -5% Divine Dominate. Total Divine Dominate 19%]
[Total Divine Dominate falls below 22%: Minor Goddess Aphrodite demoted to Neophyte Goddess Aphrodite.]
My Divine Dominate low, does my aura spill, and inform them how low? I fear another spirit attack from the Lizard Kin Champion and yet I need to find my bravery. I can’t change the past and I accept ownership of my deed revealing the truth to them. I can’t explain the why clearly now, let alone then except driven by an unknown loss. I will answer their questions if I can, anymore is beyond me. Finally, their reasoning strikes me, many have died at once, and there are none left to bear witness and tell of their deeds … I believe this is their true, sole grievance, why they remain.
“Stop!” I shout.
Silence returns until they take up a whispering chant. “We were Warriors, and our deaths weren’t noble, no glorious sacrifice to praise and sing about …”
I stole from them. Me. And yet, to victor does not the spoils go? “I confess I am the agent of your deaths. In hindsight my reasons were petty and like a newborn child, I needed to hurt others to try and heal my pain. Adrift and unwelcome, I determined Beast Kin an easy target. I know you now, you are more Kin than Beast.”
“We are Braves, our deeds need to be told around the campfire to endure beyond time …” they mourn.
“I understand your wild hearts now and regret utilising the invisible hand of disease instead of a martial contest to lay you low, depriving you of the chance to face your foe and possibly gain renown.”
“We are incomplete, incapable to go where we must, what are we to do?” they lament.
“You will find final rest, I promise to tell of your deeds and to ensure they are remembered,” I answer.
An Initiate of mine approaches, Dilia. A welcome warmth from the spirits radiates toward her.
“She who shed the first tear …”
“She who shed the first tear …”
They repeat the words, a whispering reverence while drawing tightly around a single tuft of grass.
Her voice breaks under grief. “I couldn’t help you the first time except to morn.” They glow stronger, and her voice recovers. “I should have buried your bodies. I am sorry I ran, too many dead and no others to help, they busy dying also …”
The bloody red mists fade to shades of sunshine yellow.
I climb to my feet, tears streaming down my face. “I promise to make amends.”
The Lizard Kin Champion replies, a smouldering tremor in his voice, “We exist as half-lives, our quest to find our punisher now complete. Forgiven or not, make amends or not, these are beyond us now, they are for your benefit, to release you of your guilt. The only gift we crave from you is release, the end of this torment and to begin afresh, nothing more and nothing less selfish one. Our deaths paid the price to fill the hole in your heart, our half-deaths continue to do so unfairly and while final death comes to others, ours is never-ending, pitiful, and worst of all, unremembered. This is not the Beast Kin way.”
Their truth stabs my heart, I must face the fact I am here to assuage my guilt, a petty selfish need for forgiveness, a nothing compared to their torment and I can only again offer them one grace. “Tell me your deeds and I will remember and promise to retell them. Your Kin will repeat them around the campfire.”
“You are immune to the strongest of us, our revenge upon you therefore out of reach. Know if we could remember beyond release, we would seek revenge upon you if possible and if not, upon your family so you could suffer our pain … and so we accept your offer, an escape from this misery and the telling of our deeds the least you owe us.”
I cast [Magiclink] to a Kin appropriate Adept and as I listen, one by one their Soul and Spirit descend into the Land. Throughout the reciting my Divine Dominate increases, tied inexorably to the sincerity of my promise as I listen to each of my victims and their statements of living. I [Magiclink] to Priest Jex when the Lizard Kin Champion recites his deeds, the longest in duration and the last of the spirits. To a one the Beast Kin don’t lace their telling with bitterness towards me, their method is a sacred ceremony of remembering. The conclusion is closure for them leading to release.
(System Notification: Geas completed: Full manifestation of Truth Realm granted.)
{Faith Magic aligned to Truth Rune manifests: None}
{Realm Magic aligned to Truth Rune manifests: Detect Untruth, Binding Oath}
{The Spirit Path Dungeon: Tears of Blood dissolves.}
{Living Construct is currently 95% Dungeon Dominate and with time spent will need to return to the Dungeon in 2 Days or suffer automatic respawning.}
[Realm Unlocked and Assigned: Death, +5% Divine Dominate, Total Divine Dominate 69%. You unleashed Death across the Dominion destroying many Sentient Beings on a scale never before accomplished by only one, a uniquely remarkable feat, a reaper of lives. You severed the Spirit and Soul from the Body, permitting the Body to return to the Soil. You stalked the Tears of Blood Trail and gifted Death upon those who sort to avoid your destruction of them by living foul half-lives. You freed their Spirit from their Soul forcing Spirit and Soul to return to the Land to be reborn. None will escape your proclamation of their Death; you utterly and completely end lives as the personification and wielder of death; you deny any form of escape.]
{Faith Magic aligned to Death Rune manifests: [Enhance Weapon]}
{Realm Magic aligned to Death Rune manifests: [Bless Weapon], [Discerp Spirit]}
[Total Divine Dominate equals 66% or more: Lesser Goddess Aphrodite promoted to Greater Goddess Aphrodite.]
{Divine Magic accessible at Divine Dominate 66%: [Find (Substance)], [Enchanting], [Divination], [Extend Magic]}
I am done, both the Geas and emotionally, the reasons for unlocking the Death Realm a stark reminder of my heinous act of destruction upon the Beast Kin and I am relieved only I can read the accusing words, which are in fact, mockery, a celebration of a hideous deed.
A paw lands upon my hand, the gentle tapping growing insistent.
I turn to the source, Dilia, I sigh, “What?”
She doesn’t need to answer, Spirits gather around us rising from the ground and I recognise the first one and the last one, then others. All of them, every single one …
“The spirits released and descended have returned, why?”
“Oh …” he replies, his surprise matching my confusion.