--- Drexel Marner Greater Spirit POV
He isn’t anywhere on the Spirit Plane … how? A minor God should not have the power to escape … I had a plan to reduce even him and capture his Divine Spark.
Allene returns, his likeness solidifying before me as much as possible on the Spirit Plane.
“He is gone,” he says.
Those three words strike my plan down and I need further confirmation. “Tor confirms this also?”
Allene silent chuckles. “Not in words … blinking red enraged, screaming gibbering, throwing insubstantial objects from his imagination … that sort of thing.”
“Huh.” I begin to pace, what now.
“There is other news …”
Allene’s words ooze intrigue, will his news recover my plan? “And.”
“Tor is on the verge of claiming a Realm, which means …”
“A Divine Spark will once again return to the Spirit Plane,” I finish. The recipient is a newly created weak Godling not dissimilar to Nasim, possibly one better, more within reach.
“You know your eyes glow when your thoughts dwell on the devious or descend into machinations …”
I shrug, control over a Spirit body is somewhat more challenging when the extreme of emotions take over. Tor is a case in point.
“There is still a hurdle. Will she grant Tor a Realm and by inference a Divine Spark?” I ask, not expecting an answer, more rumination.
“My worship grows, she can not deny me!” Tor screams.
A bloody apparition of a giant Lizard Kin materialises before Allene and I. Quite the surprise really. Did he follow Allene? If so, how? Perhaps I can ask him if his emotions stabilise?
“Welcome Greater Spirit of Revenge to my humble court,” I respond with a calm and politeness I need to force.
He stalks about blood streaming from his eyes and dripping from his spear. The wet sheen of his hide a water and blood solution a contrast to his dark green, almost black chunky leather skin. His appearance reflects his unbridled emotion, and such a horrific sight means anything is possible and nothing is taboo … We are both Greater Spirits and while most would believe a contest between us even, I know better. His worshippers would give him an edge, an indomitable renewable source of strength via worship.
“Her Patheon requires balance like the real world requires balance. Good and Evil, the haves and the have nots, the hunter and the prey, the swindlers and the swindled, the …”
I hold up a hand. “We understand.”
The blood flow from his eyes eases to an occasional drip. “My worshippers are on the cusp of victory and at that moment I wanted Nasim before me on the Spirit Plane so I could grab him by his throat and put him down.” His tongue lashes out and curls back into his mouth. Savouring his victory? “While he is at my mercy, I rightfully reclaim my Realms and Divine Spark and be twice the God of all others …”
Could a God assimilate two Divine Sparks, hold opposing Realms even … what a wonderful proposition, justice, and revenge, two opposites within one God. I will be sure to thank Tor when I claim them both from him. Am I getting ahead of myself? There is one who could intercede.
“What if she denies you still?” I prod. As a past Divine, he would have more knowledge to share I am certain, and I need to extract every morsel I can. I am disappointed in Allene though, he seems in awe of the whole proceedings instead of exploring his own curiosity in the subject given Tor’s presence. Where did he leave his ambition?
“The system, the rules. She can deny me within her Pantheon, but she can’t deny my ascendance within the world. Gods are empowered by worship. Worship can’t be denied and shortly my worship will be unleashed across the Beast Kin races. If need be, I will establish my own Pantheon and our two tribes will go to war, do battle for the hearts and beliefs of all Kin.”
His rousing words almost convince me of his right to rule and only with effort do I resist. A Greater Spirit with worshippers, not only power but influence, able to manipulate the thinking and core values of listeners to harvest their belief and convert them to worshippers. This is true domination, top of the heap and oh how I plan to abuse this righteous position. How does Aphrodite school herself and practice restraint?
“… once Ruler God of my own Pantheon I will be able to gather those of similar ilk to me, what say you Drexel Marner, Greater Spirit? Would Drexel Marner God of Night or The Trickster perhaps be a more worthy title?”
“You honour me and of course when the time comes, I will consider your gracious offer,” I say, adding a slight bow for effect.
“What of you Allene Corser? Would you accept an invitation to my Pantheon?” asks Tor, his emotions and hence his voice well under control.
“Yes, great one. Your righteous vision is an example for us all and together we will punish her and any of her pantheon.”
I need to contain my surprise, yet this is difficult. I escape without consequence as Tor and Allene seem to share a deep moment of mutual understanding … Has Tor gained a sycophant?
To my relief, Tor departs after a time, without Allene in tow like the pet puppy dog I imagined. I decide to conquer my former apprentice, come ally, instead of witnessing him drift off into the ranks of another after falling under their sway. There is a twinge of something, no, nothing, I am mistaken. I turn my mind back to my current purpose and begin with subtle questioning of my once ally to tease out his doubts and fears, usually the first steps …
--- Pex, Cardinal of Aphrodite POV
“You remain unconvinced then?” I ask, mirth in my voice. Perhaps Cardinals aren’t the best Prophets and if true, an undeniable issue, which means the Goddess will need to send another.
“There is some interest, yet we of the Empire have never required what you now offer, so why would we now?” replies the Head Overseer.
I tsk. “Not I, the Goddess Aphrodite offers you the splendour of worship and the rewards for the most faithful.”
I sense the lesser humans accompanying us under the watchful eye of Ottar more receptive. Perhaps those in power, at the top already don’t wish to serve another, even if Divine whereas those not so privileged see an opportunity for more, improvement in status by treading a different path to the ones usually available … maybe I overestimate this Empire and there are no other paths available, what you are born into is your lot for life? I will need to confirm this of course.
Head proud high, chin up, he replies, “I think you will find few takers of your worship amongst the humans of the Empire as all are happy with their lot in life. Am I, not right lads!” His words end in a rousing shout.
“Yes, Head Overseer.” Their replies are energetic, a learnt response rather than a passionate response I sense. A true worshipper similarly differentiates themselves, passion is the key. Without and the worship is functional. These humans are no different, they answer how they should, to maintain the illusion they are content and happy before their betters.
The wooden wall of the village draws into view, the faces of the guards standing before the gate take shape. This is the right time I decide.
“Ottar, please wait for my return. I am certain I won’t be long, given the counsel of the Head Overseer.”
Ottar bows without protest and heads off further up the beach.
Depending upon his response the Head Overseer may become a casualty otherwise I suspect many will be willing to listen to an alternative. My magic is low, but not dangerously so, but if I call, I will be in a desperate position most likely so I will need you to rescue me with all haste.
I sense he wishes to protest yet bites his tongue instead.
Both guards approach and then at a wave from the Head Overseer return to their positions. Their eyes though follow my every slithering motion as I advance towards them until I pass through the gate. Their faces are difficult to read, my time with the Head Overseer and the prisoners not long enough to categorise their body language to any great extent. Kin are far easier, tails which swish, whiskers which twitch, teeth when they bare and so on. Humans have none of these tells and far as I can make out, their tells depend upon the wrinkles and shaping of the skin on their faces, although some have other indicators, like what they do with their hands and feet. This is most troublesome. How will I be able to read the mood of the potential worshipers before me and adjust the message to suit? Is this where I truly failed with the Overseer? No, my passive success with his underlings indicates otherwise, no time to doubt yourself, Cardinal of Aphrodite I admonish myself, especially since you are now within the walls of their village.
A crowd follows whispers abound; fingers point. Some of course run off to tell others and be first with the news. Occasionally a multitude of humans will spill out of a building, many with a cup or mug in one hand, others struggling to stand yet all taking in the show of my passing by, with hoots and hollows.
Eventually, we stop. A strong offshore breeze carries a brine scent, the twin wharves on one side and a generous, well made, and tall building on the other and the Head Overseer waving me inside.
He flicks a look at the men escorting us and they begin to turn away.
“Please indulge me Head Overseer, but as the only humans I know, please invite them to stay with us. So many strange faces otherwise,” I request. My demure voice projecting the perfect pitch.
He nods, then his eyes scan every man. “You are with us by request. Please don’t embarrass yourselves.”
They tug at their hair in response it seems, yet all except one succeeds in grasping any hair. Most strange, yet they do, follow.
Inside, there are several rows of humans standing before other humans, who are in wooden boxes peering out behind windows with bars, yet they seem content. Most confusing and I must stare for too long.
“They are tellers, they handle money and to prevent robbery and the like are protected. Those lining up exchange their cargos for money, coins. With coins they can purchase other things, you understand?”
I look askance at him.
He digs into a pocket and places a dull round metal object in my hand. “A copper coin,” he explains.
“What if a human has no coins to buy food?” I ask.
“They will starve if they don’t work for coins, so most work or they can offer to be slaves if all hope is lost.” His pleasant smile after his reply which for an inexplicable reason manages to anger me for a moment before I extinguish the emotion by pretending to examine the coin. My Snake Kin House existed to serve, bound to a Higher House. Devoted servants or naive slaves?
Handing his coin back, I ask, “What if there isn’t much food to buy, does the food then cost more coins?”
“Of course, why is this strange?”
“What if there is an excess of food, does the food cost fewer coins?”
“Some yes, some which can be stored for later, usually no.”
The humans with us shift about after his response. I note this is the biggest reaction from them during our conversation and his education of me, which I encourage of course. Humans are like Kin in this regard, the superior ones enjoy demonstrating their superiority to their lessors.
“It seems it is better to be a human with many coins rather than one with few or none.” I return his smile. He, of course, doesn’t ask about how Kin trade and negotiate, after all, humans are superior – they use coins, what could others offer.
We move on across the room with him leading and climbing three steps upon a set of stairs before checking if I follow.
“Oh.” The flesh on his face below his hair creases, interesting.
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I can of course, with effort, slither up a set of stairs, yet I prefer to show weakness, Snake Kin are unable to climb stairs. This should instil more confidence in his superiority and relax him into revealing more to me and the lessor humans accompanying us.
“Perhaps two of the strongest can carry me up?” I try to flush the light snakeskin of my face, uncertain of my level of success. Ever since … a time I don’t wish to recall my Snakeskin lives yet the glorious colour when once a servant no more. At best a faint grey trying to shine yet failing.
There is some shoving until the contest is won and two advance on either side of me. The Head Overseer looks upon the spectacle in amusement, not realising his men acted, no, more than that, competed to assist me without his express consent or command.
I hang my arms out suggesting they offer me their shoulders. They both position themselves and with their support I curl up my tail lifting myself free of the floor, they grip each other’s wrists and I lower my body where the human-like upper torso joins the snake tail lower extremes. I note their interest in the flexing of my abdominal muscles and the sinuous curl of my tail. Once I settle, I flash them a smile each and curl my tail around to caress their cheeks and as warmth flushes their faces, I declare victory.
As we ascend the stairs, one whispers, “How do Kin buy and sell without coin?”
“We barter, exchange the goods there and then or offer labour in exchange. Some do this as a whole tribe, many as families, rarely as individuals. When food is scarce tribes travel, they either hunt or barter when they arrive elsewhere. Some Kin like mine, travel, and trade constantly. It is the responsibility of tribes and families to ensure all work, few wish to be banished and left to the mercies or cruelties of the world.”
--- Alba, Priestess of Aphrodite POV
A knocking, no, not quite right, a tapping, which echoes in the back of mind. A dream? I know I am asleep, warm, and snug in fact. Comfortable after much effort, this human body is a challenge. Again tapping …
My eyelids open, for some reason, I need to see to also listen, at least when waking up. Tap, tap, tap. The Cabin door? I shuffle over and open the door without taking any precautions, I pray, asking forgiveness from my Goddess for my folly.
A flutter of dark wings burst by with the door a quarter of the way open, if that and yet the bird, I look over my shoulder, yes, the bird pushes pass dropping snow on the way to my chair … wait a moment! I slam the door shut, replace the cross beam and march over to reclaim what is mine.
The creature preens and nests on the only chair in the cabin, possibly the hamlet, not that I know for certain, I did burn down one cottage, ransacked another, didn’t look in a third and claimed the fourth. The bird flicks its beak as if that is enough. What am I missing? There isn’t any fear or nervousness, the animal trusts. I do wonder if there is enough to eat if cooked. It squarks at me in a most indigent way. Coincidence I decide.
Using my hand I reach under the belly of the bird, my intention to find a better location for the creature and coincidently return my chair to its rightful owner.
Ouch! The creature’s beak draws blood. Naughty bird. Whoa. My stomach churns and I reach for the chair to brace myself. Its eyes, dark beads, deep with intellect pierce mine reaching into my soul.
---
[Sirfah, Crow Familiar and Adept Sorcerer Allene reconstitutes their soul bond.]
I blink, a slight pain at the back of my head draws my hand to the location. Somehow, I believe rubbing the location will fix what is wrong and stop the pain including my growing headache. I sit up and my eyes are level with the black crow nestling smugly upon my chair warming itself before the cabin fireplace containing my hard earnt blazing fire.
Thank you, Master, for returning, we were one and then not one but not sundered either. Only yesterday did I sense your return.
I am sorry Sirfah, I am not Allene, my name is Alba do you still wish to be soul bonded with me?
The crow cocks its head.
Your soul is Allene, therefore I will remain and share my knowledge with you.
The knowledge of new spells, flood my mind, [Mend Flesh], [Manipulate Stone], [Fly], [Increase Strength], [Haste], [Analyse Magic], [Increase Size] and [Remove Magic].
Thank you Sirfah.
While I like the fire I hate the snow Mistress, can we fly back to the seaside, to our old home?
Fly?
A picture of the former me enters my mind, Sirfah explains the casting required from memory and I smile with a stupendous amount of satisfaction, which Sirfah takes a compliment. Her joyous pride bursts across our soul link.
---
In-flight sweeping along the ocean side of the mountains casting [Locate Faithful] as needed I soon locate one of Aphrodite’s believers. I admit the multiple failed attempts at casting the spell frustrating, yet the benefit of success, plain. Three deary teaks avoided, trudging through the freezing snow, finding a way down the mountainside and finally the endless searching for Cardinal Pex on foot. I pass Sirfah a thought of deep thanks.
I land away from my objective, I don’t wish to startle the Cardinal, she, unfortunately, has had a difficult relationship with the former owner of this body and while female, the resemblance is almost total the only blurring being feminine features.
I am the more surprised though. Sitting amongst the dunes is a cross-legged Frost Giant. I made no mistake because I cast the spell again, revealing an Initiate worshipper of Aphrodite.
“Excuse me,” I say, raising my voice. I assume being big I need to speak louder for him to hear me, makes sense, right?
“You don’t need to shout,” he rumbles, turning his head towards me. “Oh, Priestess, apologies, my name is Initiate Ottar.” He climbs to his feet and bows slightly in haste before crouching down so we are more eye to eye.
“I am Priestess Alba, well met Initiate Ottar. Why do you wait here? Where is Cardinal Pex?”
He points towards the shoreline. “The Cardinal is explaining the worship of Aphrodite to the humans. I am on alert in case she is in danger.”
“She will contact you using [Mindlink] and then you will come running? Is that the plan?”
He nods. What was she thinking, anything could happen between summons and rescue? Tapping my chin, I believe I have a better plan.
“I believe you should escort the Cardinal.”
“But my size ...?”
I wave away his concerns. “What if I shrunk you? Not Frost Giant height, tall human height?”
He runs his fingers through his beard. “After, I can be Frost Giant height again?”
“Yes, my spell will only last for three days, so make certain you aren’t in one of their houses otherwise either the house will break or your head,” I say, adding a smile at the end, but he doesn’t appreciate my humour or is too deep in thought.
“Yes,” he rumbles.
I manipulate [Increase Size], thinking I can reverse the effect and yet my initial attempt reveals Sorcery isn’t so easy to manipulate.
“Listen out for the Cardinal’s call, I may not be able to shrink you. I apologise, although all is not lost … yet.”
--- Drexel Marner Greater Spirit POV
“You appear lost friend Allene Corser.”
He jumps, spirit imitating flesh. “No, I am considering Tor’s viewpoint, in particular, the thirst for revenge and I am determined to discuss this with him further.”
“You no longer hold any faith in our plan?” I probe.
He looks to Tor or where we expect Tor to reside before returning a downcast gaze upon me. Not a good sign I decide.
“Since our expulsion by Aphrodite, our plan seems solely to become stronger. What is beyond that? Will we be able to break free of the Spirit Plane? Worshipers are the key, and we have none. A Divine Spark is another key and again we have none.”
I float towards him and use my finger to nudge his chin higher. Instead, my finger passes through his visage. The sole tool I have left is my voice, to which I add a huge serving of enthusiasm.
“A Divine Spark is within our grasp. Tor will shortly reclaim his from Nasim and together we will wrestle the prize from Tor.”
His face remains, in a word, sad, although he manages a monotone reply.
“During our long campaigns to weaken and demoralise other lesser Spirits didn’t the extensive mind games tire you mentally? What when after all that effort the Spirit escaped due to insanity, or some other mysterious reason? You needed to lift yourself after each failure and begin a new with another Spirit. The successes are equally laborious, while you are mentally exhausting your prey to their lowest point, so they give up on their existence and you are draining yourself of that same will because your reasoning and argument must be near enough to sound genuine. Then of course you assimilate them and their defeatism. How do you ignore this? Tor could offer a different way. I won’t know until I hear more.”
Urgh, feelings. He hasn’t lived long enough in the real world, suffered enough loss to be cold and unfeeling the next time. Or of course to exercise the disciple to remain aloof and not invest in new relationships. Didn’t he realise how special he was when I agreed to take him on as my Apprentice? I admit being a fleshless Spirit at the time with endless life somewhat of an influence, still, there seems to be a great lack of gratitude which is another reason not to emotionally invest in flesh beings. But we are both Spirits now, I don’t understand his dilemma – if not now at some point in the future will be break free of the Spirit Plane. Until then, our existence is within our own efforts.
“You can engage in Spirit Combat then if you wish. It is more honest, the victim knows your deadly intent, he or she still wishes to exist, and you directly threaten that. A contest of strength, open, clean and no pretence. Granted the rewards are fewer, finding and acquiring the scattered fragments of their former power, yet I assume this will be easier for you mentally. Do you agree?”
His body angles towards where we expect Tor to be, while his head turns to me. “Perhaps, if Tor doesn’t offer better, I don’t think I could return to hounding Spirits until they give up.”
“Allene, I believe I have another solution …”
His eyes rise to meet mine, perhaps he senses a change in my voice, the finality. Once we lock eyes though, I assume beyond a shadow of a doubt he notes the burst of flame, the symbolic manifestation of my Spirit attack upon him.
His eyes narrow with purpose. Finally, I see motivation, sadly I need to snuff it out.
I almost lose control of my Spirit attack when his reply takes the form of a Divine Mindblast assault as his symbolic manifestation. Not from a random Divine or none, specifically Aphrodite’s Divine spell, from her Disorder Realm to boot! This says a lot about his state of mind and when he found balance in his life. While a small voice cautioned me against attacking a loyal ally his regression to her in Spirit Combat when his existence could cease vindicates my betrayal. She is forever in his existence.
---
“You are weakening my friend, my former Apprentice. Perhaps I should try consumption, test our theory on assimilation?”
“No, destruction or victory, I will …”
I don’t let him finish, in fact, the moment he says the word ‘no’, I begin enveloping his Spirit with mine, like an ooze or a slime consuming prey and that is how I imagine the process now as my symbolic manifestation on the Spirit Plane. His resistance is futile, still in Spirit Combat until the final instance. I absorb his entire remaining power, no need to hunt about for fragments, his knowledge and unexpectantly his identity are also mine. I don’t know how or why I know; I just do; I mean how do does anyone know who they are? I am me and if I wish I can be him, odd.
I am closing in on Tor’s location and when I realise this, I sense this urge is something residual, the last gasp of indomitable will from Allene, something he needed to do before anything else. This is a stupendous discovery.
“NO!” I hear Tor scream from a distance.
Since I am approaching Tor, I decide to wear Allene’s identity. A steady stream of Spirits, Tor’s worshippers in fact are deposited by Thanaron and they scatter away from Tor and his current anguish.
“Allene, don’t approach Tor now. We have suffered many losses assaulting Nasim’s final place of worship, his Temple, solely through the folly of pride. None willing to report our failure and leadership believing we are making progress send more of us to our death.”
I reach out and place my hand upon the Lizard Kin apparition. Once in contact, I envelop him and being many degrees weaker than Allene, while I have grown stronger from enveloping Allene the act is near enough to instant on the Spirit Plane.
Assuming the prior victim’s identity I approach another of Tor’s worshippers and repeat my touch and swiftly envelop another. I sweep the area around Tor clean of his worshippers and decide to wait for more as Allene.
An occasional worshipper greets me, these must be the overnight casualties dying from their wounds. I consume these few as Allene. The flood of Spirits begins anew after a time and I am kept busy, adopting the identity of worshippers from my initial harvesting to consume the new arrivals. Spirits I don’t detect are those belonging to Nasim, I can only assume Thanaron deposits these far away from Tor to improve their chances of survival.
“NO!” Tor’s scream unleashes once again.
As a Tor worshipper Spirit from the initial consumption, I approach a recent arrival I shake my head and ask, “Is today better than yesterday?”
“No young one, Nasim joins the defence of his Temple this day, striking down those in our camp, the strongest of us first before moving into the river and hunting down the rest of Tor’s faithful.”
I place my hand upon his shoulder in sympathy and my envelopment fails the moment I after.
He yells, “The traitor is here!”
I realise my mistake, he has [Spirit Protection] cast upon him. I cast [Remove Magic] overloading the spell with additional magic to dispel his protection and then envelop him, yet the damage is done. Tor’s worshippers travel in pairs or threes from now on.
As Drexel, I approach Tor in silence and overhear his mumblings.
“Finally, an end to the slaughter, I swear I will rebuild with what is left …” His hands then become fists and his head shakes in denial. “There are none left, all are now Spirits on the Spirit Plane, Nasim has vanquished everyone because as much as the defence of his Temple gathered all of his worshippers, the attack gathered all of mine. His is the final Justice then. What now?”
“Greeting Greater Spirit of Revenge.”
Tor’s face is one of devastation. I am certain his offer as one of his Gods in his Pantheon is now off the table. I wonder if I could hound him until I destroy his will to live, given his fresh setback.
“Greetings Drexel. Bad news travels fast it seems,” he replies.
“Yes, at the speed of thought upon the Spirit Plane,” I quip. An upbeat response simply to annoy.
Tor looks at me, yet his mind is preoccupied as I can approach him without challenge. I grab his shoulder and try to consume him. Noting happens except his eyes focus on me and the present. Spirit Combat it is then.
I manifest my flame and strike at his Spirit enjoying his suffering. His reply comes in the form of his spear of revenge, equally effective as we trade torment.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demands.
“What do you think, Greater Spirit?” my retort, dripping with intent.
“You are the weaker and I have …” There is a realisation.
There is no great guesswork required. Before he could draw upon his worshippers when needing additional power and now, he is like others, suffering isolation while on the Spirit Plane.
My flame eats at his spirit, his spear thrusts gouge at mine, we battle towards the possibility of mutual destruction.
I try mind games and smile wide and confident at my contestant. Tor immediately looks about. Ha, he searches for Allene perhaps, we are always together yet for this battle my loyal companion isn’t present. Odd bordering on absurd he must think.
“Stop looking and fearing an ambush, Tor. Allene is within, he strengthens me with his Spirit as I am now beyond Greater Spirit and once, I absorb you, I believe the possibilities are endless …”
“Never! To me my faithful, tear down this usurper and betrayer!” he screams.
He searches for them, yet none materialise to assist.
I laugh. “They sense the weak and the strong, their very continued existence depends upon ensuring they aren’t supporting the wrong champion.” Plus, their numbers have been greatly reduced of course.
“No, they are loyal, you have done some subterfuge, a trick.”
“If you call snapping up a few, well many of the losses from the first attack and several from the second attack on Nasim’s Temple … subterfuge, then guilty as accused. As you fretted, I lured away more and gobbled them as well, until one squealed a warning, which I believe given your preoccupation with other matters you are still not aware of.”
I approach him once again and this time I envelop him, he tries to resist the inevitable with pleading and then begging, yet I am an avalanche of purpose. Once done I release a Spiritual burp or the equivalent, from consuming Tor before his utter destruction. I absorb his identity as I did to Allene.
This leaves the possibility of another advantage, I believe the living will be able to summon Tor, Allene and Drexel from the Spirit Plane as they all still exist within me. I assume none will summon myself, my name isn’t well known or even Tor a failed God of Justice who has no living worshippers, so my hope is someone will summon the weakest of us, Allene. I assume for destruction given his/her previous deeds of torturous betrayal and I hope to surprise them when they do!
Until then I can hunt and feast upon the Spirit Plane with impunity.