Bel peered into the shrine where her mother and Kjar had previously manifested and was surprised to find it strangely empty. Only the puddle that had been Lempo and the wooden cat that Kjar had possessed remained. Cress quickly fluttered over to the two remaining objects, examining them carefully.
“I guess that Hermeis guy got angry,” she told Orseis. “He and whoever else this shrine belonged to must have taken their stuff and left.”
“Angry about what?” Orseis asked.
“Oh, just my mother encouraging me to smash some stuff.”
Orseis blanched, her skin turning a fearful shade of purple as she glanced with worry around the now barren nook.
Bel was surprised to see Crecerelle kneeling in a position of prayer near the puddle. I guess my mom offering to be a patron to the gorgons was a big deal to her.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about that – her mother was a patron to humans as well as scrattes. Would she call in the favor in the future and make the gorgons help the little hairy green people conquer a kingdom somewhere?
And who else calls my mother their patron?
Bel sighed. Well, at least my mom isn’t as bad as Beth’s family, she consoled herself. They’re all Technis worshippers, and he’s the worst.
She turned to Orseis and offered the younger girl a reassuring smile. “Everything seems safe, so I’m just going to lie down and see about getting my new path.”
Orseis raised a tentacle. “Oh, while you’re there, can you see if there are any good patrons for me?”
Bel’s forehead creased as she squinted at her friend. “Good patrons for what? And how would I be able to ask?”
Orseis shyly prodded the ground with her foot. “I want a patron that can help me be both pretty and strong – you know, for when I go to the human world.”
Bel paused with her mouth hanging open. I’m really not prepared to handle things like this, she thought in a panic. Where the hell is this girl’s mother? Wait, is this something my mother was supposed to prepare me for?
Orseis looked at Bel, her eyes wide and pleading.
“Can’t you ask Lempo about it?”
Bel swallowed nervously. “You know I just see Ishmael there like everyone else, right?”
Orseis nodded and shyly toed the ground with her foot. “But once you choose your patron you negotiate with them for how much essence you’ll share. If you’re going to take Lempo’s path can’t you ask her about it then?”
Bel tilted her head. She hadn’t negotiated with Dutcha about any essence sharing – the spirit didn’t take anything. Perk of being her daughter I guess.
Bel shrugged. “If I meet her there then I’ll ask. My mom doesn’t do things normally though. And maybe I’ll go with Kjar’s powers, who knows?”
Orseis smacked the butt of her spear into the ground and frowned. “Whatever! Ask either one of them, okay?”
Bel held up her hands helplessly. “Yeah, sure, I’ll ask.”
“Thanks,” Orseis beamed.
Bel looked at Cress and glanced at Orseis, silently asking the other gorgon to look after her friend.
Cress nodded seriously and Bel felt a small amount of relief.
“Okay, I’m doing the thing. You two don’t get into too much trouble without me.”
Orseis nodded. “Of course not! If you take too long though, I may have to go get some food.”
Bel grimaced. “I’d better make this quick.”
----------------------------------------
Once again, entering the spiritual realm to select her path was an intuitive experience. Following the faint tugging on her soul lead her spiritual self to the same empty space that she had enountered during her first path selection.
“Call me Ishmael!” said a familiar voice.
Bel turned and smiled at the odd creature who oversaw path selection for the pantheon. The front pair of stubby legs on his furry body were waving cheerfully in her direction.
“Hello Ishmael,” Bel greeted back.
“Welcome to your Path selection,” crooned the caterwhatsit, “I’ll be your guide!”
“We’ve already met,” Bel replied.
“Sorry! I don’t have any memories, but I’ll try to remember you next time – or maybe not!”
Bel felt a pang of sadness for the poor creature who was trapped in this endless task, repeating the same jokes for an eternity.
“I don’t know if I already explained this, but I’m here as an impartial assistant in your path selection. Before I came along, sentient beings kept picking whoever they’d already heard of – that really upset some of the lesser known deities!”
Bel nodded. “Thanks for the explanation,” she said politely, “but I know the background.”
“Okay!” Ishmael gestured with a wing at a large, wooden placard that was hanging next to its perch.
“It looks like you don’t have very many options! Typical for a gorgon, I suppose.”
The little creature tilted its head as it read over the placard. Ishmael paused, clearly confused about something. “You’re all cursed, right?”
It shrugged, a ripple that spread down from one pair of legs to the next. “Well, whatever. I get the feeling that you can read, right?”
Bel experienced a strange sensation of the past repeating. Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t remember anything. If he actually had to remember saying the same thing over and over every day he would go mad.
Bel skimmed over the top part of the placard that listed her current condition. Her total number of gained strokes would double again to six per threshold while building her third core. That had sounded great to her, but she’d been warned that the essence required to advance thresholds would also increase. She skimmed down to the bottom of the placard where her possible patrons were listed.
Kjar’s Path of Judgement and Punishment. Potency: 4.
Dutcha’s Path of Disorder. Potency: 5.
Lempo’s Path of Upheaval. Potency: 7.
“I think my potency with Kjar went up,” Bel remarked, pleased.
Ishmael waved his antenna around. “Is that so? You must have done something she favors then.”
He paused briefly before continuing. “Which is strange, because I thought that the gods didn’t like any gorgons.”
Bel laughed nervously at Ishmael’s observation. “Yeah. Kjar used me to kill a demigod. I feel like I should still go with my mother’s path though.”
“Who’s that?” the little caterwhatsit asked.
“Lempo,” Bel answered.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
She got an odd look back before Ishmael replied. “Lempo’s Path of Upheaval is… holy pantheon, who allowed this stuff!” The little guide gave Bel a strong side eye. She shuddered as she remembered the guide’s next words before he said them.
“Well, if you take this one you’d better be careful. It starts off with your standard mutations, some abilities to ruin things, some ways to destroy souls, disintegrate stuff, put things back together the wrong way, and then moves up to bending reality and removing stuff from existence. Pretty heavy. Risks getting the attention of the gods, if you ask me.”
“Yeah,” Bel agreed. “Last time I was too scared by it, so I took Dutcha’s Path. This time I’m ready.”
“Really?” the fuzzy guide questioned. “Are you sure?”
Bel paused. The power to destroy a moon… wasn’t that why she’d been tempted by Dutcha’s Path?
The thought was suddenly very attractive, even though she knew it was a distraction. There was no way she would grow that powerful quickly enough to matter against Technis.
“Who cares about moons anyway? Why would I want to blow up a moon?” she muttered to herself.
“Why wouldn’t you?” a voice whispered in her mind.”
Bel’s eyes narrowed. “Dutcha?”
A pink snake slithered into view. It definitely wasn’t one of Bel’s regulars.
“Yes?” it hissed.
“How are you here? No, forget that, are you messing with my head?”
“Well…” the spirit paused. “But I made your head, some of it. Isn’t messing with it what a mother is supposed to do?”
Dutcha flicked out her tongue. “I’ve spied on plenty of mothers, you know,” she declared proudly.
Bel almost swatted the snake, but then she remembered that it was both her mother and an extremely powerful spirit.
“No,” Bel huffed. “A mother is not supposed to mess with their child’s head. You must have been spying on the wrong people.”
“Oh,” the snake exclaimed, “my misssstake!”
Bel’s eyes narrowed. “Are you messing with me?”
Ishmael, who had been growing increasingly flustered during the conversation, waved his antenna angrily. “Spirits shouldn’t be here, Miss! I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”
Dutcha rolled her serpentine eyes and then winked at Bel. “Luckily we already know a trick to deal with situations like this, don’t we?”
Bel frowned. A bad feeling settled into her stomach like an anchor weighing down her soul. “We do?”
Dutcha nodded quickly. Then she darted forward and bit Bel on her arm.
“Ow, Dutcha, what the–”
Dutcha didn’t pause at Bel’s protest. She whipped her head around and spat out the extracted glob of blood. It spun in the air for a few moments, turning darker as it moved. Bel could feel it becoming more heavy, until it seemed to drag upon the ethereal space around it. Time ground to a halt before the blood exploded outwards into a sinister shadow.
Two glowing green eyes opened in the darkness.
“Hello Beloved,” Lempo purred.
Ishmael’s antenna vibrated with enough energy to make his furry body quiver.
“You–you can’t be here!” he sputtered.
Lempo turned her glowing green gaze to him. “But I am here.”
“B-but, you can’t…” Ishmael moaned. “This is very not allowed.”
Lempo’s form slowly congealed out of the darkness, the space only begrudgingly lending her a shape.
The goddess took on an appearance similar to what Bel had seen in Ventas’ office: a woman wearing a long, practical skirt and a shirt with wide sleeves. Her look was finished off with an green beret that was far too cute for someone as powerful as a goddess. She appeared old enough to be wise without losing some of her youthful beauty, but the body she wore couldn’t conceal her true nature. Bel could feel a presence to the goddess, something heavy and powerful, and the room seemed to bend around her form. In comparison, Bel felt that she was less substantial, like a wisp of cloud yielding to a mountain peak.
Lempo smiled at Ishmael. The guide quaked with terror.
“Don’t hurt him,” Bel squeaked.
Lempo waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense.”
Bel couldn’t help noticing that each of the goddess’ nails were painted a different color, each reflecting a polychromatic light despite the lack of light in the room. It was the wrong moment for it, but she suddenly wanted to know if she could get a similar look with her own metallic nails.
“Ishmael,” the goddess intoned in a sultry voice, “you have been trapped here for quite some time. Suffering to atone for a crime that you cannot remember. Serving a pantheon that does not even recognize your endless toil.”
The insect eyes on Ishmael’s caterpillar body couldn’t widen, but Bel was sure they would have popped from his head if that were possible.
“You help so many choose their divine patrons and yet you will never have that opportunity yourself,” Lempo said sadly.
She held out her hand to the small creature, her long fingers elegant yet powerful. The light glinted from her multicolored nails, creating a rainbow of color at her gesture. “What if I offered that to you? What if I gave you the power to be free?”
“Oh, she’s so good,” Dutcha whispered into Bel’s ear.
“Free?” Ishmael repeated quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I must atone for… for something.”
“Hm.” The goddess put a finger on her chin. “And you don’t think that you’ve already atoned? You know neither how long you’ve been here nor what you are atoning for. Is the word of a goddess not enough to convince you that your time here is complete?”
“Complete? I’m done?” he whispered.
Lempo smiled. “Yes,” she joyfully proclaimed. “Finished.”
She twirled her fingers. “And it’s not just me who is saying that; there have been whispers from some of the others as well.”
Her mouth split in a broad, friendly smile that showed off her perfect teeth. “It wasn’t even my idea, actually. Someone else saw the opportunity with my daughter coming to visit you and asked if could work some of my magic to set you free.”
“Free?” Ishmael repeated, apparently too shocked to process anything more than the word.
Bel looked back and forth between the two of them, not completely trusting her mother’s offer. Does that make me a bad daughter? But my mother deals with just about anyone – including scrattes. Who asked her to set Ishmael free?
“Who asked–” Bel began.
Lempo shifted suddenly, abruptly appearing in front of Ishmael. Bel squeaked in surprise, her words dying in her throat.
“Do you wish to be free, Ishmael?” Lempo whispered, her seductive words filling the now eerily quiet space.
The small world seemed to pause, waiting for his trembling response.
“Y–yes.”
“Excellent.” A beam of light shot from Lempo’s finger and engulfed Ishmael’s small body. It hardened into a cocoon a crackling colors that lasted only an instant before shattering. Ishmael emerged, but his body had been transformed. If before he had been something akin to a fuzzy caterpillar, but now he was a man. Four pairs of wide, beautiful wings sprung from his back, and his plump, fuzzy body had been replaced by that of a young man with dark skin covered in golden lines.
“I’m free!” he shouted jubilantly in a surprisingly youthful voice.
He spread his wings and took his first few awkward flaps, bobbing and darting through the air like a butterfly crossed with a dragonfly. “Finally free!”
Bel watched, wide-eyed, as he fluttered into the distance. It only took moments for his jubilant voice to fade to nothing as he disappeared from her sight.
Lempo clapped her hands together with delight, startling Bel so much that she jumped into the air.
“Great!” the goddess proclaimed. She turned to Bel with a smile. “You see? Your mother isn’t so scary, is she?”
Lempo frowned at her daughter’s suspicious expression. “That was a compassionate gesture,” she insisted. “I was expecting a more positive response from you.”
Bel blanched at the goddess’ displeasure, but she held her ground. “I thought that he was a vital part of this process. I’m pretty sure that he said he was here so that people weren’t unfairly influenced when they choose a patron.”
Lempo lazily waved her hand. “Of course, of course. We used to do ancestors, you know, but they would always tell their relatives to go with the same deities over and over. We’ll try out some type of bidding process next.”
The goddess chuckled. “I just couldn’t pass up this chance for some quick change, and you have no idea how long that poor soul has been trapped here.”
“I suppose that’s true…”
Bel sighed with frustration. “Aren’t you going to get into trouble for that? Didn’t you break some rules?”
Lempo made a pulling motion with her hands. “Bending. A bit of stretching. No breaking.”
Bel massaged her scalp. “Change doesn’t have to be so chaotic though, does it?”
Lempo shrugged. “I find it more fun and effective if it is unexpected. That it why I so dislike providing too much guidance too mortals; it makes them more predictable.”
Dutcha dove into Bel’s line of sight and nodded aggressively. “It’s why we get along so well.”
Lempo laughed, a playful chuckle filled with amusement. Her dark eyes twinkled with an inner fire. “Now then, will you be choosing my path this time, daughter?”
Bel pointed at the goddess. “See? That’s intimidation. I liked the old way.”
Lempo turned and gazed into the distance. “So you want me to catch and imprison Ishmael again?”
“I–no, of course not.” Bel glowered at her mother. “Okay, fine, yes, I want to follow your Path for my third core.”
“Wonderful,” Lempo nodded. Then she spread her arms wide. “Now come, give your mother a hug and I will grant you my blessing.”
A hug isn’t so bad.
Bel stepped forward and gave her mother an awkward hug. It was returned with a wide and creepy variety of arms that Bel did her best to avoid seeing.
“Now call me mother,” the goddess demanded into her ear.
“Uh, thanks, mom,” Bel said awkwardly. Now she’s just embarrassing me.
“Excellent,” Lempo said with satisfaction.
Lempo ran a hand through Bel’s snakes, jostling them fondly before plucking Dutcha out of her hair. She pulled the mischievous spirit away and slung her around her neck. Dutcha flicked her tongue in Bel’s direction.
“Hey,” Dutcha hissed, “don’t cut me out completely. How about one stroke on my path for every two along Lempo’s.”
Bel’s eyebrows went up. “You can do that?”
Lempo shrugged. “Most deities are not as malleable as I am. I suppose that Dutcha can also claim motherhood over you. Do you wish to continue walking her path, Beloved?”
Bel hesitated. “Will I still become powerful enough to kill Technis?”
“There are many routes to power, daughter,” Lempo answered cryptically.
Bel sighed. “Yeah, I guess I want to keep growing Dutcha’s Path too. I just figured out how to do some cool stuff with my snakes.”
Dutcha nodded her serpentine head excitedly.
“This won’t have any weird side-effects, will it?” Bel asked.
“You are so suspicious of me, my beloved daughter,” Lempo said with a disapproving click of her tongue.
“Sorry,” she apologized quickly.
“Oh,” Bel exclaimed, “I almost forgot! My friend, Orseis – she wanted a recommendation for a patron.”
“Bidding,” Lempo replied, “is already complete. Tell her to stand up for herself and remember her goals. If she doesn’t, the Old World will gobble her up.”
Then the goddess disappeared from Bel’s grasp, leaving her arms empty and her head full of misgivings.