“What do you mean that Theadus will not see me? I am his Hero!” Thomas shouted at the clergyman in the highest public levels of the City of Light.

  Its great and mountainous palace was home to many young and old who wished only to serve and live in the light. It was the 'City without Shadows' for many, and simply home for others. The great magic stone works and might of the empire had built the City of Light into a massive bastion of hope and determination to outlast whatever might be out in the world.

  “He will meet with you in time. For now it is important that he speaks to the Light Bearers and keeps them coordinated.” The man in the robes of a Bishop of Light said, but Thomas could sense that the man also held the job of Inquisitor. “We will send for you when--”

  Thomas pushed him aside.

  “You cannot--” The clergy man insisted, but Thomas turned and grabbed him by the robes, interrupting his stream of words with a display of Hero Class’s immense strength.

  “I was not given this title to sit idly by. I am the Hero of Light, representative of the Lord of Light wherever I go, as given by his own hand. By his own words I embody the hope he has for all who follow the Light and in that authority do I go now to speak with my God for he has moved against a friendly God and her people in my absence. I will have my answers or he will abandon me or both, but you will not stand in my way.” Thomas growled.

  He dropped the man on his ass and started up the long hall leading to the heights, and the Grand Hall of Light. It was a journey even from here. There were twisting corridors, market halls, and housing districts where the old families grew in their own villages deep within the brightly lit palace walls. There were farms. There were towns in fact, trade routes, and traffic throughout the highly overbuilt city that grew in levels into the sky like a mountain. Knights rode on horses through the streets alongside wagons that never went outside, only from one district to another all within the great city’s protective perimeter.

  Mirrors and magic brought in sunlight from in from high above and as some named it there were almost no shadows to be found. Only the dim pale shapes under a wagon or in a crowd of people could really be called shadows. Light crystals, magic torches, and enchanted lamps hung everywhere, and many carried such things small and large as a symbol of their faith. Everywhere there was bustle and talk, the city alive and to Thomas's ears largely ignoring the atrocity their God had committed.

  The people did not even realize how important Istania and her teachings were. They didn't see the various gardens, or the lack of sickness in their city as something she had always taken care of. Even here. The priestesses and priests of light could heal, but very few dedicated their lives to it like the followers of Istania whose every step seemed to bring about a healthier and happier world.

  Thomas saw a child sniffle, picked out by his Hero's Senses, in the throng. Though he was in a hurry he couldn't stop himself from finding the boy and his mother.

  “Hero!” The woman exclaimed. “Oh don't mind him. I'm sure he's fine.” She assured Thomas, but he very gently pulled her hands from the boy and turned the lad to face him.

  The kid was red in the face, excited as any boy in the City of Light would be to meet the Hero of their God. Thomas smiled at him, and ruffled his hair.

  “How long have you been sick little boy?” Thomas asked.

  “It's just a sniffle.” He said quickly and eagerly.

  Thomas focused on his inner light, the magic in his body, and put both of his hands onto the boy. Though he didn't have quick and efficient means to cure such an idle malady as a cold, he did have means to cleanse anyone, even himself, of all hurts and afflictions whatsoever. Hands of the Light was the Hero of the Light's version of a Paladin's classic Lay on Hands. It was a daily power that only a directed blessing from the God of Light himself could replenish outside of the normal means of resting. It drained Thomas of some stamina, but it was nothing he couldn't deal with.

  The boy stood on his toes as the magic rushed over him, and even regrew one of his missing teeth before settling back to the ground without his sniffle.

  “There. Now hopefully no one else will get sick, but take care okay? And remember to always wash your hands before eating.” Thomas told him.

  “Right.” The boy said eagerly.

  The boy laughed and pawed at Thomas's hand as he ruffled his hair again, but the mother looked concerned. The followers of Istania were always talking about cleanliness and cures aside from their job of seeking out and removing sickness. No doubt she saw this reflected in Thomas's actions and yet she hardly looked to have understood the hard look Thomas gave her as he strode away.

  He went up and up, and up. He passed people in the thousands and as he went he thought that perhaps if he was going to throw an official to the ground he might as well have just rode his horse all the way up to the heights. Featherfoot hadn't been happy to be put back in the stable so soon. Thomas sighed and began using Hero's Swiftness to ascend the stairs, making his form a blurred streak of golden light at times.

  Finally he reached the Throne Rooms of the Light Bearers. Here fires and incense burned to remind all who came of days of old, but Thomas paid them and their tenders no mind. Even the Sunset Knights, the City of Light's highest order of guardians let him pass as they saw him approach using his Hero abilities to more quickly pass them by.

  He went on ever more and on until the air and people became thin. And higher still onto the Grand Hall. There finally Thomas laid his eyes upon his god, who stood like a giant before the gathered Light Bearers, all dressed like kings, but suddenly seeming like sycophants to Thomas's eyes. They were not like Kings in stories. They did not seem grand, but small men with large and impressive rings and magic items. Perhaps all, but Lord Twilight who’s clan had it their purpose since ancient times to look to the next night instead of relishing in the day.

  “My Lord, the information you gained from the fate was not false. Whatever her means of escape it cannot be denied that in the course of our actions we have uncovered artifacts of particular and potent dark magical knowledge. Many of these artifacts contain tales and means of a world beyond our own, and lead to paths into darkness such as we have not seen in an age. That Istania hid their existence can only serve to prove your actions justified-” Light Bearer Dawn was saying to the God of Light before he and the sitting council of Light Bearers turned at the God's gaze down the Grand Hall.

  Thomas let out a breath, feeling just slightly spent after more or less sprinting his way up to this point. He stepped forward and tossed his pack aside onto the floor of the Grand Hall.

  “The Hero returns!” Theadus said, raising his hands, his voice booming and filling the hall. “Tell us how was your journey into the Tower of Midnight this time? Did you find my challenge fitting for your abilities?”

  “I did my Lord. The fight was exhilarating, but I do not come to speak with you of that in such haste. My Lord--” Thomas addressed the God as he continued to stride forward. “What have you done?” Thomas asked.

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  The Lord of Light's smile slowly became a neutral mask. The Light Bearers sat near one another exchanged whispers that were lost in the great expanse of the Hall even to Thomas's hearing.

  “I have heard such terrible things, and seen much which I would not have thought you capable of my Lord.” Thomas kept on, though he came to a stop in the Hall. He knew his God was displeased, but that was not what stayed his feet. For all Theadus was a glorious and heroic figure his actions of late had disappointed and worried Thomas. And most of all Theadus himself had told Thomas that he should face down all things unjust. Perhaps he had not meant to stand before the God himself and do so, but it had come to that. It was made clear by Thomas being set aside when the God took the actions he had.

  Though Thomas was not the God himself, short of Theadus sending out a magically conjured aspect, or the Pope Thomas supposed, Thomas could have stopped any command given. But to kill Istania? Thomas would have been by his God's side if nothing could be done.

  That he had been excluded filled him with doubts about his God's purpose, and he would know what had changed or what his God had learned in his absence. If it was justified, as Thomas hoped, he would simply chide his God for not allowing his champion to be at his side, and work to better the situation from where it stood now. If it was not...well Thomas didn't rightly know. He would hold up the ideals that Theadus had praised in him, and made him Hero for. That was what Thomas knew.

  “It is foolish Hero for you to underestimate your God.” Light Bearer Daybreak, a giant grizzled man, said from beside Theadus.

  “Right.” Agreed Dawn. He was a skinny man with pale golden hair that was fading with age. He looked cold, even in that great overblown fur lined cloak.

  “It is my place however to uphold and represent his ideals.” Thomas shot back. “The steps you have taken dim the lights of our city even now. Though the shadows have yet to grow in number they will. The followers of Istania combated many aspects of so many living together. Tell me Light Bearers what means have you implemented to combat the spread of disease in their absence?” Thomas asked, his voice cool and controlled.

  The Light Bearers were silent, and perhaps stunned by Thomas's immediate and unhesitating response. Theadus's eyes locked on Thomas, but the Hero did not falter. He could not. He would care for the people of his Lord, and see that his God in his high place saw that the foundations of his rule would come to rot without care. Care that Istania and her followers had always given freely and skillfully.

  “You grow brave Hero...” Theadus said slowly and turned his gaze to each member of the Light Bearers who sat with him.

  “Yes.” Dawn agreed, slamming a ring and gem clad fist onto the golden surface of the Table of the Council. “Your words are rash. All will be well in the City of Light.”

  “I am not brave. I am stunned. Shocked. And confused. My Lord, what have you done? The people fear your brave warriors! People flee our lands seeking asylum in other lands! Many did not worship only one, but many of the Pantheon you and the other Gods forged together! How are they to choose now that you have divided them?”

  “You speak as though the choice is not clear.” Daybreak barked, almost laughing with his cruel voice. “Foolish boy. It is time to show faith in the true God of these realms. Time for--”

  Theadus raised a hand, and his face, again slowly, shifted to a more thoughtful visage.

  “Speak Thomas.” His God commanded. For just a moment as his name was called by his God Thomas felt all the hope and light, the wish Theadus had once shared with him, when he had been made Hero.

  Thomas stepped forward and offered up his hands in supplication.

  “My Lord, the people are afraid. Not here, in the heart of your realm, but in the lands outside where once faith in you was a comfort now people fear and hide from the light we would spread because it has burned away the lives of their families and friends. Your forces act as if all the followers of Istania have turned to darkness, but many worshiped you, Zon, and Halspus in equal turn, approaching each in their prayers for guidance in their aspects. I know many in faraway lands who do the same with Gram, Rokke, and Rahammod. Our world is a dangerous place and there are many and different people in need of guidance. Please my Lord. Whatever you have done, stop this madness.” Thomas pleaded.

  His God stared at him a long while, something about how he faced the Hero and kept his gaze keeping the Light Bearers from speaking. Thomas did not back down at his God's intense gaze. He did not fear him, but for him. Thomas had long ago chosen to believe in what the God had said to him when he was made Hero, and Thomas would keep to those ideals. Even if he had to remind Theadus of them himself as he was now.

  “Would you guide them, Hero?” Theadus asked after some time.

  “Yes. In your name my Lord. Under the ideals you praised me for. I would teach them as I have been taught, and show them the best way to live under the light whether those methods came from Istania, Halspus, or yourself my Lord. Each of you are human, or once were, and we look to you to be inspired as Zon has done for his people many times. We seek to live together as you have for all of history side by side, made stronger for embracing our differences and uniting in a single purpose of making the world safe for all. We would do that Lord. But what you have done threatens to rip that dream wide. We must act quickly. Stop the Inquisition of relics and people.”

  “Whatever reason you have slain Istania that must be set aside. Her role was critical to all we know. We must act to fill the role her absence and that of her people have left behind before all else or the empire will fall to sickness and malady within a decade's time. It was always Istania who spoke of unseen ails and their causes, and always her followers who helped stop their spread.” Thomas said, feeling as though he was rambling, but unable to keep himself from speaking.

  “And which of those maladies did she cause? How much of her purpose was made out to be important, but only an inflated facade? Do you know Hero? Can you comprehend the mind of a God that as you have said, spent all of our known history, waiting and planning to destroy our Lord Theadus, God of Light, Zeal, Peace, and Justice?” Daybreak asked.

  Thomas finally faltered looking at Daybreak. The grizzled man chuckled, his was more of a growling snort, but Thomas had seen it often enough. Daybreak was always the first to speak against the Hero, no matter the event, or casualness of the conversation. If he were not a Light Bearer Thomas would have no reason to speak to the man at all since what comments he made were always derogatory in nature if not in spirit.

  Theadus nodded, his gaze turned to Daybreak, who was still smirking at Thomas.

  “My Light Bearer's concern is valid Hero. But...” He said, startling Daybreak. The man turned and looked up at their god. Theadus hardly seemed to notice. “You speak as Zon has spoken to me. He and the escape of the Fate I thought captured angered me, but I have had time to think. And your words have moved me. Perhaps you are right. What measures would you take?” The God asked.

  Thomas felt hope dawn in his heart and he stood tall.

  “My Lord. I would do what Istania's followers had for generations. We must see to the health of our nation for it to remain so. Negligence will dampen the wicks of the lamps of all across the nation if we do not. If Istania's death was truly necessary, it does not rid of the need for her original purpose.” Thomas answered.

  “And what of her followers? What would you tell them?” Theadus asked.

  “I would explain, as I hope you might to me My Lord, why Istania had to be dealt with.” Thomas replied hesitantly.

  “And what would you say if I were to tell you that, even dead, Istania could be worshiped? That even now she hears the prayers of those who hope beyond hope that she might return and heal their ails once again Hero? What do you think of that?” Theadus asked.

  “My Lord? If she is dead...truly such a thing could only be done by your mighty hand, but I do not understand. How can she be dead and still hear the prayers of her followers?” Thomas asked.

  Daybreak chuckled again. It was a vile sound.

  “That is something that you, the Hero of Light, have yet to learn. You were once an artist, and learned many things, and many of the ideals you hold close now, but were you a priest or better yet a paladin when I found you, you would know that worshiping a deity that has fallen is one of few ways to bring about a Dark God. Those that return from death are twisted and malformed from their time in Hell. There is nothing to them when they return but the twisted remains of their hatred and regrets to give them purpose. To prevent such a rise there is no choice, but to wipe out the people who followed Istania.” Theadus said.

  Thomas was shocked, but he remained steadfast. He faced his God, and yet dropped his hands to his sides.

  “Then strike me down, My Lord. I have prayed to Istania. I often sought out her temples for guidance, and restful meditation in her many gardens. My Lord I followed her teachings and that of Halspus as I have your own. Many who follow them as avidly as I follow you now.” Thomas said.

  Dawn sneered at Thomas.

  “And they now must choose. Perhaps to this task I should send you Hero if you truly care so much for the now lost followers of Istania. They will hate you for what I have done. Will you have the courage to face them? Can you save them from what evil might arise from their lack of knowledge?” Theadus asked.

  Thomas hung his head for a time, but then nodded.

  “If you tell me why my Lord. And stop the killing. I will go to them, and bear their hate, so that they might understand that you have done what is right. So please. Tell me why My Lord.” Thomas demanded softly.

  “You dare demand the Lord of Light concede to your demands--” Dawn began, but Theadus only chuckled and raised a hand again.

  His face took on a somber cast.

  “Perhaps Zon was right. Hero. Come. Sit and listen. The Light Bearers and I will tell you of what is to come, and we will listen to your cares and worries as they give me parallel advice given to me by the one God to come visit me since this crisis began. We will set things right. Together.” Theadus said.

  “Yes My Lord!” Thomas said eagerly, bowing, and then rushing to take the chair Theadus conjured with a wave of his hand and a flash of golden light.