“Your new champion seems…what is the word for it…bland. He must become commanding and hardened or he will never achieve anything.” said a mountain of a creature as it swirled a goblet full of shimmering liquid larger than a normal keg. The creature's voice was deep and every word was a bellow compared to the delicate words of his companion.
“He is still young and ignorant of the world. Give him time Fyndor. He is not a leader yet but he has potential.” Hez replied with a gentle smile as she glanced over at the hulking God. He was a brute at times but she considered him a close ally and they had been friendly since the dawn of time due to their shared interests.
Fyndor represented the watchman of the roads, rivers, and thoroughfares of the world. These individuals served to keep trade flowing and caravans protected from bandits, monsters, and other threats. Some were known as rangers, guardians, keepers, or other names depending on the culture, race, and history.
“Ignorant is right! He takes risks traveling the roads without more protection. Champions seem to attract trouble like a siren’s call.”
Hez relaxed back into her padded lounge chair with a sigh before deigning to respond. “He is still in the civilized land. Give him time, the fates seek to give him an opportunity to learn for himself the ways of blood and war before he is too challenged.”
Hez had been meticulous with planning and aligning all she could to give her Champion an ideal starting place in the world. As time stretched, her ability to bend fate in his favor was waning but she still saw her preparations were in line with her expectations and an encounter that Nick was due to experience was soon to arrive.
“The others will be curious to see what this long awaited champion of yours can do. It has been long since you were involved with your own…too long some would say.”
“They can talk all they want. Let the results speak for themselves when that time comes.” Hez replied with a confident tone despite her anxiousness.
Fyndor chuckled in reply, “Yes, actions speak louder than words as they would say. I wish others would speak less. Their ramblings grate at the nerves after the first million years.”
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Fyndor slammed his goblet onto the table as he stood to depart.
“You never were one for many words. One of the many things I like about you. Nonetheless, your support is appreciated and I suspect the coming days will give us a glimpse into the wisdom of my decisions.” Hez said.
“Indeed. I will visit again soon to check in on the newest Champion of our order.”
Fyndor paused halfway out of the door and turned his head back to make eye contact with his host. With a softer than normal tone he said, “Don’t doubt yourself, Hez. You were always the wisest of us all.”
With that, he made his way out of the room and departed for his own accommodations on the floating island that made up the physical reality of the Pantheon of Ancients known as Asphodel. Each deity could manifest themselves onto the island. Many never bothered but for some like Fyndor and Hez found it valuable to live as the peoples of Proelium. It gave them a perspective they would never achieve otherwise.
Hez’s villa, where she spent most of her time with her allies and other friendly deities, had one of the best viewing pools among the pantheon. Anyone on the grounds of her estate could access the pool and pluck at the strings of fate on Proelium. It was one of the amenities that she gained from going so long without a Champion. The gods and goddesses were limited in the ways they could interact with the world of which they created.
The rules were unbreakable but they could be bent with a little convincing and the right application of power. It still took eons for Hez to amass enough power to construct infrastructure capable of providing even the slightest impact on fate. She had been patient, frugal, and used her unique powers of trade to haggle and bend the rules to make it happen.
She was finally experiencing the rewards from such a long investment by tracking Nick on his journey out of Frellon. She had to admit Fyndor was right about the softness he had presented so far. He had yet to see the brutality that was soon to become a constant when he reached the frontier. She only hoped what she had planned would be enough to give him the perspective he needed before he was overwhelmed by it all or killed due to the inability to make the tough decisions required.
With a sigh she rose from her chair and made her way to her meditation room. It was something she found herself in far more since her Champion had been summoned. It was stressful to have such important matters left to her chosen without her direct influence. She was hopeful at some point she could interact with Nick again more directly but it would be some time for him to have enough wealth and influence to make that happen.
As she settled into a meditative pose, she felt her lips quirk into the barest hint of a smile as she reflected on Fyndor’s parting words.