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God of Eyes
67. Myth and Consequences

67. Myth and Consequences

I was not expecting Erika to show up again quite so soon--even knowing that to a large extent, that was kind of the plan to begin with. The ancient goddess' blessing to "hide me from enemies" would extend to those in my "holy place"--followers, friendly gods and goddesses, and Erika herself if she chose to appear here. With her being normally stuck in a space station, I could certainly understand that she had a desire to see the world every now and then, smell non-filtered air, and bucking whatever other restrictions she might have had.

Apparently, one of the things she missed was brazenly teasing gods. Mocking us, arguably.

Miana was able to keep her feet under her, but she was not confident enough to take charge of the situation. I suppose I might have been equally intimidated by the woman if she had been so forward with me, but she had been drunk, mopey, evasive... I wondered, suddenly: did she do it on purpose? She had seemed off guard, egocentric, but it only forced me to be the one who took action, while she seemed unreliable, foolish, spoiled.

And here she seemed to be arrogantly taking charge, and after my own argument with her, I wondered if it was going to provoke a similar reaction in Miana, making her more self-reliant, less likely to count on the woman.

"You are, aren't you?" I asked suddenly, apropos of nothing. "You really are that shrewd, that manipulative. Doing whatever you have to so that we won't look up to you, won't consider you a leader."

Erika suddenly seemed... well, incredibly grouchy was probably an understatement, as she turned and moved up to face me. The expression on her face, in her eyes, was... cold. I would say "vacuum of space" cold--empty, devoid of life and warmth, nothing more than will without drive or purpose.

"Do you know the story of Xerana, oh great God of Eyes?"

I blinked, not sure exactly how she had made the leap, but nodded. "She married a priest of hers. I don't think he ever understood."

"Oh, he did. That's the problem. There are two stories of her, oh God of Eyes, and you only heard the one she wants you to hear." Erika suddenly turned and stalked in a circle around me. "Consider this to be a story, the likes of which you might have heard the Greeks tell of their gods, a story that people consider absolute and literal truth. Xerana was born of Xenma and a human woman, and he took his daughter as his wife. Xerana was not "the herald of the gods" as some books record her--she was the slave of the gods. For the gods of this world do not care for mortals, and because she was half mortal, she was lesser, undesirable."

"In that story, Xenma abused his daughter-wife, because he was all cruelty and malice, a raging storm given godly flesh. Like Hades and Persephone, it was a marriage unwanted by the wife, but bound by divine law and the absolute power of the husband. Until the day when she managed to escape, and became the Goddess of Light. Not the light of dawn or dusk, but specifically the light that comes after the storm, the light that breaks through the darkness and reminds humanity that all is not lost."

"And in that story, every time Xenma discovered that Xerana had escaped, he would beat her and drag her back home, until the time he found her with a mortal husband, heavy with child. He respected marriage too much to separate them, and told her that he would drag her away as soon as her husband died, to return to his home and become his whore wife again."

"There is a cult, to this day, Ryan." Erika's eyes blazed at me, and I felt suddenly like no more than a statue of sand, as though she was turning the Eyes of Mars on me. "A cult that believes that Xerana must always have a mortal husband or else her father will return to rape her, and all light in this world will disappear. They believe it in awful, literal ways. They practice rituals to bind their faithful to the Goddess. They do everything in their power to convince the Goddess that she is married to them, and it only by acknowledging that bond with them that she gets any peace from them."

"You are naive, Ryan Valentine, when you believe that it is harmless to trust in people. She was, too." Erika glanced down, and I looked down to see a figure peeking out of the shadow beneath me--one that disappeared suddenly, one I had not felt appear at all. "I do not have the luxury of letting people misunderstand me. People are driven to perversion and idiocy by the idea that they may be found worthy by a beautiful, but comparatively weak goddess. There have been other cults to other goddesses, and gods, in the past, all believing that they will be found worthy simply because they know, and that makes them special."

Erika snarled at me, baring her perfect white, sharp teeth in my face. "If I had to put up with cultists like that, I would kill them all. I would rather be considered an enemy of the people I serve than their bitch. But even then, even that would be too much. I must serve in the shadows because normal people, simply knowing that I exist, would think me a goddess like you--someone from whom they can exchange petty gratitude for power. But I am no such creature."

Suddenly, Erika switched to speaking in English, which caught me off guard--and, I realized, meant that Miana and the members of the Order could not understand her. "My powers are not limited by faith like yours--they are limited by power. And my generators are getting old, Ryan Valentine. I have fusion generators that have run for nearly twenty thousand years, and they will not last forever. The people who built them, understand them, the Arch Sorcerers... they are gone. When those generators run out, my Enemy will have no one who can check his power. I need you to have a place my enemy cannot find, where you will maintain my backup power, and perhaps more, if I can trust you, and if the plan works the way I want it to."

Suddenly, she was speaking the local tongue, again. "In exchange for that service, Ryan Valentine, there is not much I would not trade. My greatest restriction, unfortunately, is that I cannot use the bulk of my power, because he is always watching. When my power dips, he sees. I am constantly paranoid about it, but there is no question in my mind that he knows. So, I cannot simply carve this place for you with the magic of the Arch Sorcerers. When it is done... you will house my secrets, and I will trade you much for your continued service."

"What that does require is your goddamn secrecy and for you not to wag your damn tongue every time you figure something out, you insufferable prick."

I admit that for much of that, I was more interested than taken aback, but that last bit made me feel like my tongue itself had turned to stone in my mouth--not a magical effect, as far as I could tell, just a deep and fundamental realization that something I had done was really bad.

Some craven part of me wanted to apologize immediately, but a divine part of my mind realized that apology would have been fear, not loyalty--it would not have come from my adult mind, but from some animal part of me that recognized her as having murderous seriousness. So, I bit back that instinct to grovel and instead forced my minds and body, and godly power, all to align on one concept: from this point of my life onwards, keeping secrets was very serious business.

It... wasn't as simple as that, unfortunately. I could tell that I could definitely do some kind of violence to my mind, but unless I was willing and ready to rebuild my mind the way I had at the beginning, I couldn't just wish away my restless need to convey the truth to people. It was a deeper part of myself, a part of my godly domain, in a way that was not going to just go away because it was inconvenient.

"It will be difficult," I said, finding my voice at least respected the seriousness of the conversation and didn't tremble of break. "I understand, and I'll do my best. I... will have to adapt."

"You have time. But do understand the consequences of what will happen to myself, the world, and you if you fail to keep my secrets." Erika stepped in very close, so close that I could smell her--and she smelled of ozone, metal, and wine. "After all, you know better than most that gods can die and be replaced very easily."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

I could not stop shivering for several minutes after that.

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"And you, Miana." Miana could not help the spike of fear that ran through her heart as the woman turned back to her, moving past her towards the trees. "Let us have a private conversation over here. I assure you, it's nothing quite so dire as what I had to put my dear friend Ryan through."

Miana followed, easily crushing the part of her that wanted to tiptoe timidly around the woman, but not quite able to speak freely or take any control over the situation. She didn't like this feeling of being cowed... but she did also understand that whatever the woman doing, she considered it necessary.

All of a sudden, Miana found a table set up where there had been none--a metal table, two minimal-looking chairs of the same material, and on the table, two glasses and a tall, open glass bottle that Miana smelled from a ways away. It smelled like... some kind of orange-flavored alcohol, mixed with... the warm spiciness of tumint?

"Sit," the woman offered, taking one of the chairs, and with a gesture, a steel framed paper wall appeared between the two women and the other workers. "The liquor is optional, but you won't enjoy this conversation."

Miana sat, and took a small glass. It did taste like orange tumint, a combination she wasn't expecting, but she didn't find it objectionable. It was also strong, so she declined to have more than a few sips of it.

"With the distraction out of the way... my name is Erika, and I am, as I said, the last scion of the Arch Sorcerers. My powers are significant, but I don't interfere much, for... unfortunate but necessary reasons. As such one of my principle values that I give my people is insight and perspective. Such as, in this instance, advice for a goddess whose religion is on the verge of collapse."

Miana suddenly had a much stronger urge to drink, heavily. With some willpower, she resisted.

"The Goddess of Blades, as you will notice when you have time to go over your followers, was always more of a... regional religious figure. The world is vast, Miana, and your part in all of this was always doomed to be very small. Like Alanna and Ryan, your followers are, for the most part, only on this continent. Your church in particular has always survived through patronage of this country and basically no other people. The other nations on this continent are your enemies, and your predecessors--especially Lu'nella--never wanted to split their attention between their beloved homeland and another nation."

"You see the problem, of course."

Miana could see many problems. "My homeland is invaded. My people are dying. The enemy is seeking to kill me--and they can."

"And your people need you most at the hour in which you are weakest."

"There is also that." Miana didn't like being reminded, but couldn't work up the nerve to be offended by the woman.

"My best advice is not complicated, but it is advice that can't be delivered to you or Alanna by Ryan. That is, an alliance of the three Gods who call this place a home--not merely a formal alliance, but all joining into a single common church." Erika poured herself a tall glass from the bottle, and held it up as though toasting Miana. "After that speech about Xerana, of course you understand how that will be viewed."

Miana's lips curled into a snarl. She didn't dislike Ryan of Eyes... but she understood precisely the woman's reasoning. "Two women in bed with a man. One wise, one fierce. And the man who conquers both women must be the greatest of all gods."

Erika laughed. "I like you, Miana," she said, and took a healthy swig of the alcohol, offering the other woman a smile, looking like it had been a while since she had managed an unforced laugh. "You have a way with words." She swirled her glass a moment, watching the liquid move, while Miana could not help but stew over the idea. "And of course that won't be the truth of it. Ryan is a gentleman, but a feeble man and a coward. I suspect he will never be a legendarily good lover, but I wish him the best of luck at proving me wrong."

"I do not wish to be the one to find out," admitted Miana--a bit coldly, she knew, but there was no point in not being honest.

"Hm," replied Erika, swirling her glass again. "The real problem is that the mythology works out too well. The God of Eyes kills the God of Storms for the crimes he did to his daughter, taking the man's power for himself. He sweeps the Goddess of Light off her feet, they become husband and wife, and then this." She gestures out, vaguely. "He finds a goddess, hunted, and offers her shelter. No eyes may find her, no light may touch her, no knowledge of her will reach the enemy. The three lovers join together and become a single church. Storm and blade, eyes and light--he is the key that unites them both, the judge who stands between destruction and redemption. Whatever the truth, the myth is fantastic."

Miana, of course, was one to let something like that slip by her. "R--Xethram killed the God of Storms?"

"Actually, Xenma was never really the enemy of his daughter that the myths suggest," said Erika idly, a hint of gossip in her voice. "He loved her and would give his life to protect her. I won't suggest he never hurt her, but he did not take her as a wife, and would never have done something so crude to her, not once he knew that she was his daughter. The vast majority of the power that was used to bring Ryan over from Earth was his, because I promised him that I could find someone that would protect her. And not more than an hour or so ago, he gave up his life and Key, willingly, to Ryan so that Alanna could come here and be protected from... this storm, as it were." Erika's lips quirked at that. "For now, yes, Xethram is the God of Eyes and Storms. He called a storm to Balant and is using it to hide your followers from the army that chases them. It's actually working very well, especially since his people can see through the storm freely."

Miana sat back in her chair, realizing that again Ryan had not told her something important, after swearing that he would.

"That man is insufferable," was all Miana could think to say.

"It's odd to say it, but I think that's a part of his charm," said Erika, after taking another sip of the liquor. "Most of his flaws come from trying too hard to handle all of life's problems on his own. That leads him to fall short, yes. It leads him to cut people out of his life. But it also means that he will willingly step into almost any situation if he think it's the right thing to do. You know, he was not a courageous man before, but on this world, he really did stand in front of an army, risking his life to try to salvage a situation that was nearly unwinnable. He could have cowered, could have run. He could have begged Alanna, or Lu'nella, or Xenma. But that same insufferable streak in him that makes him take on everything by himself, that led him to victory, where even running away might have killed him--for good, as it turns out, because he was still an idiot about these things at the time."

Miana recalled the way Ryan had told his story. He, as a Vicar, had called upon the God of Eyes, and tried to use his magic to attack the enemy... and his God had given him the strength to strike down enemies with only his Eye. He had no strength, though, and had only been able to strike at a few enemies that he thought were leading the goblins. And yet... knowing now that he was the God of Eyes himself, a story that had seemed pious and deferential to his god was really just the story of a clumsy mage who barely managed to help turn the tide of battle and survive.

Of course, Miana had her own similarly embarrassing exploits, and she knew it. It wasn't the fact that he had an embarrassing story, it was whether he learned from it--Pal'lud had said as much several times, encouraging the temple's Blades to not hide their failures, but to always, always seek to better themselves.

"You believe that joining into one Temple is worth the..." Miana didn't feel the word humiliation was strong enough, but could not come up with a better one.

"Mortals will always believe silly things," replied Erika. "The world we came from has an expansive written history, and whole libraries filled with the universe's Truths, and yet people still believed the silliest things, often very obviously wrong. The question is what there is to gain, Miana. In the short term, even if you choose not to unify as a single Temple, you must stay here until the Necromancer is defeated. Although I doubt Ryan has realized it, Alanna will be here shortly as well. Take the time to examine the life that you might have, while you struggle to destroy the enemy you three have in common. In the end, as I say, the suggestion cannot come from him--and he wouldn't make the suggestion if he could. Nor will Alanna suggest it, or willingly accept." She paused. "Having her help would be best, but you will need to clean up her main Temple before that becomes possible. I'm sure I don't need to tell you what goes on there, although as of now I am sure Ryan does not understand."

Miana shivered slightly, but nodded.

"The blessing that is over this place will hide those who visit from their enemies. For Alanna, her own people are her enemies right now." Erika pursed her lips. "When that cult realizes they cannot find her, they will go mad. It won't be a good time. She will need your help, and you will need hers. Believe me, having a goddess of Knowledge on hand will make strategy planning a lot easier. With Ryan and his gift for Eyes, it will be even easier. Together you're capable of far more than you are apart, believe me."

Miana eyed the alcohol, and poured herself a full glass. She was not a fan of drinking while making decisions, but at this point, she could see that the benefits were too great, and the cost of refusal was too high, for her not to follow along--at least for now.

And alcohol, while it was a poor thing to have in your system when planning, certainly made it easier to deal with the fallout.