“Quick, we must get everything ready!” Eirgnon clapped his hands, ushering his followers to move faster.
The dilapidated manor now stood whole and furnished to be a proper place of worship. Red and gold ribbons decorated the twin staircases. Incense filled the room with a smoke that left a rich savory taste on the tongue, and the candles bathed the room in golden light. Eirgnon tightly gripped the banister as he watch a group of his followers brush the expensive carpet that led to his house’s inner sanctuary.
“Everything must be perfect.”
“Father Eirgn, is our guest truly that special.” He turned to the girl approaching. One of Thom’s daughters, the youngest, had a scent that was sweet but not fully ripened.
“My sweet Khora.” He smiled, gently brushing away a stray lock. “Our guest is the Emissary of our Lady. His hands act out her will.” Eirgnon spiked tongue ran along his fangs, and he had to fight back the urge to suckle on her bare neck. He turned away, his fingers digging into the wood. “Tonight, our Lady shall bless us greatly.”
Khora’s eyes shined brightly, and she brought her hands to her chest. “Will we hear her voice?” A slight blush came to her cheeks as her eyes glazed over.
“Yes, and that is why everything must be perfect.”
Khora ran down the stairs shouting, “Everyone, our Lady will be speaking with us tonight!” Her words caused everyone to work harder.
“Master, you should get ready as well.” Eirgnon turned to his lovely Magia.
Ever since her transformation, Magia was no longer the thin, spindly woman that could pass as a boy. She filled out her dark dress nicely. A shawl hung loose off her shoulder and covered her head, but it left enough of her flesh exposed to tantalize his hunger. The pleased smile on her lips betrayed her intent.
“You’re right, my dear.” Eirgnon pulled her close and took in a deep breath. Her scent had also enriched as well. “That being said, I’m certain there is still time to indulge.” Eirgnon’s tongue glided across her skin and his fangs itched.
“Later master.” Magia’s heady voice betrayed her own wanting. “We wouldn’t want to upset the Emissary again.” Her fingers ran along Eirgnon’s neck, and a worried shine filled her eyes. “I don’t want to see you suffer.”
“True.” He breathed against her. “I must control myself. Otherwise, I may make a fool of myself again.” He pulled away, heading to his room. “Lady Elithis rarely gives second chances, and never gives thirds.” He stepped into his room and stripped out of his normal garbs. “This is my chance to prove that I’m still worthy of her. Magia, help me dress.”
Eirgnon slipped on a thick white tunic with golden seams. Then, Magia helped him adorn a bright chainmail shirt. The black links of the cursed steel made the room feel darker than it should. A black silk robe draped across his figure and was held together by a golden sash. Large leather pauldrons with spiked studs rested on his shoulders, and long golden chains ran the length of his arms to connect the pauldrons to his gloves. Magia gave him a seductive smile as she knelt to assist in putting on his boots, then she rose to smooth out his lapels and secure his hood to his head.
“You look truly inspiring master.” Magia said as passion burned in her eyes.
Eirgnon’s own smile grew as he admired his reflection. “This is how an Archmagus truly looks.” He took a deep breath. The power of the Cursed Steel seared his body, a feeling he had long forgotten. “Come, let us go welcome our Lord.”
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Reviled stepped out of the carriage looking at the reconstructed manor. In the few short months, it truly looked like a proper place of worship. Ornate stained-glass windows filled every frame, and the lawn was immaculate. Lanterns lined the main walkway to the large double doubles, and over the doors was a sign with an open book with a golden cover.
Baron straightened out his coat and glanced over at Reviled. “You’ve done well Baron.” It said, nodding in approval. “It truly amazes us at how quickly you can get things done.”
“Thank you master.” Baron bowed, his smile growing as he noticed the sour looks on the two women at Reviled’s side. “It was an honor to be of service.”
“Regardless, you shall be rewarded. Your stipend shall be greatly increased, so you no longer need to swindle our coin to make ends meet.” Reviled chuckled at Baron’s horrified expression. “Also, speak with Ashamahn about getting your manor properly furnished.”
Baron’s voice quivered as the monster walked away. “Thank you master.” He tried to ignore the smug smile on Meridith’s face as she followed. He was able to relax when Taela and Charolette took his arms.
As they approached, two of Eirgnon’s guards stood at the door. They stared at Reviled with awe and fear. “Welcome to the House of Destiny, o esteemed Lord. The master and his flock eagerly await you.”
“Then let us not keep them waiting.” Reviled replied, shifting the cloak on its shoulders.
The doors swung open to ethereal fanfare. A rich carpet guided the group through the main hall with Eirgnon’s followers standing perfectly aligned on either side. Zeal filled their eyes as they looked upon Reviled, and some of the younger disciples tried to peek under the darkened hood. However, there was one pair of eyes that lacked respect.
“O hallowed Emissary.” Eirgnon’s call drew Reviled’s attention. Reviled held in the chuckle as he stared at the sanguinite at the top of the stairs. Eirgnon flew into the air, drawing gasps of admiration from the crowd, and gently landed on the floor in front of Reviled. “Welcome to our humble House of Destiny, my lord.” He kneeled and bowed his head low. As one, each of the followers kneeled in kind.
“Rise and be at peace.” Reviled’s voice echoed through the silent hall. “Come all you children of Fate and let us hear the voice of our Lady.” Cheers erupted as Eirgnon rose to his feet and led them into the sanctuary.
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The manor’s dining hall was converted into a small sanctuary. An odd number of pews made the room look uneven, but there were enough seats for everyone. At the back stood a well-crafted altar with a large wooden effigy of Elithis. In one hand she held an open book and in the other she held an orb. The statue was simple yet well-made.
“We have another being made that is worthy of her. It’s simply taking time to get the materials.” Eirgnon whispered, eyeing the statue in disgust.
As everyone shuffled inside, the warlock waved his hands. A podium and six chairs flew and landed right in front of the altar. The followers waited until Reviled’s six companions took their seats before sitting down. Reviled stood behind the podium, staring at the crowd.
“Children of Fate.” Reviled’s voice reverberated unnaturally through the room. “Tonight, you stand at a crossroad, and a choice needs to be made.” The Tome of Elithis formed on the podium. A clawed finger caressed the cover. “Father Eirgn has taught you the tenets of our Lady, given you a taste of her greatness, but you have yet to be truly brought into the flock.” Hushed whispers filled the room as everyone glanced around worriedly. “Tonight, you must make a choice. Shall you devote yourself fully to the Lady of Fate, or return to the Virtues that abandoned you? Choose, for there is no going back.” A few shifted in their seats, and some glanced at the door, but none left. “So be it.”
Reviled carefully opened the cover, and the pages turned on their own until they stopped on a single spell. “Bind you not to the illusion of freedom, instead take hold of the manacles of duty.” Crimson wisps of necrotic mana seeped from the tome and snaked towards the crowd. “Compare you not to those beside you but keep your eyes forever forward. By her hands are your lives made worthy, and by her voice are your works extoled.” The threads wrapped around the followers wrists and ankles, and each of them fell into prayer, except for one. “Put on the chains of Fate, so that you never wander from your path and make your life forfeit.” A deep silence fell over the room, as the lights were immediately extinguished. The only lights that remained illuminated the statue of Elithis.
My children. Reviled watched as the followers all looked to the statue. It pleases me that you all have chosen me. I have seen how the followers of Virtue treated you. How they promised you refuge, only to then leave you starving and cold on the street. The wisps of magic caressed the followers’ faces, slightly illuminating them in the darkness. Quiet sobs could be heard under Elithis’ voice. I won’t abandon you like they did, and to prove my love, I shall mark you as my own. The people below clutched at their chests. Upon your hearts I have dictated your paths. Some shall be my eyes. Be ever vigilant. Some shall be my hands. Your works shall bear much fruit. Those who bear my mouth, never stop speaking of me, so that all may know of my greatness. Finally, those that bear my feet, you shall go out into the world so that I can follow.
Reviled watched as the cultists stared down at the crests marking their chests, but a horrifying scream broke the silence. One man jumped from his pew. He stared in pain and fear as his shirt darkened. Blood started seeping from his eyes and ears as he started stumbling towards the door, but the wisps of necrotic magic dragged him back. He screamed in pain as the magic held him in the air for all to see.
However, this one is unworthy. The man coughed up a torrent of blood that dripped onto the floor. This one had it in his heart to betray you. To place you all into the hands of those abandoned you.
The crowd murmured as they stared at him. “How could you?” A voice called from the darkness.
“Can’t you see it?” The man choked on his own blood. “They are monsters serving a Dead God. They have damned your souls. What is wrong with you all?”
Silence filled the hall.
“What have the Virtues done for us?” Nearly two dozen eyes shined with zealous fire as they stared at him. “Father Eirgn took us in. He put a roof over our heads and gave us food to eat.” Anger and hatred twisted theirs faces. “The Lady of Fate has cast her gaze on us. She has given us purpose, and you want to take it from us!” Spit started seeping from their lips as their fists pounded the air. “Death to the traitor!”
The Man stared in horror as they chanted. He released howls of agony as his body arched forward. The necrotic magic held his hands and feet back, and his chest bulged outward. His screams reached their peak as his chest burst opened, and his still beating heart came free. Blood showered onto the congregation, and their cheers drowned out his suffering. The man watched in terror as the air split opened in front of him, and a hand reached out to his heart.
“Death to the traitor.” Elithis smiled as she crushed the organ in her hands. The corpse fell to the ground as everyone fell to their knees. “My children, you still choose me?”
“Yes!”
A soft chuckle filled the air. “That pleases me,” she said, “However, I am not content.” A hushed silence fell, and none had the courage to look up. “My emissary, my avatar, my son knows my true desires, and you all must support him in his endeavors. We must act first, otherwise the Virtues and their followers will take everything from you, and I don’t want to see my children suffer.”
Quiet filled the room, but it was broken by a single man in the front row. “As you command, my Lady.”
The portal appeared before him, and Elithis lifted his head to look at her. “My sweet Thom.” She cooed, giving him a small kiss. “I appreciate your fervor and shall bestow my blessings upon you.” Thom’s eyes glazed over, and he had the widest smile on his face. “Your words shall pierce the hearts of all that hear them. Your strength shall never waver." She ran a hand across his cheeks. "I ask, will you take up my mantle?”
“Yes.”
“Then I shall name you Phyreheart.” Elithis gave him a deeper, passionate kiss. “Let your passion burn all my enemies to ash, my paladin.” As she pulled away, everyone gasped.
The signs of age were no longer on Thom’s body. His face no longer carried any wrinkles, and instead was replaced with a youthful vigor. His thinning brown hair was lusher and more vibrant, and bulging muscles now stretched the sleeves of his tunic. The three women at his side pounced on him, embracing him with warm smiles.
“Go my children and fulfill my will.” Elithis’ voice echoed as the portal faded.
Elithis’ presence stole the words from the congregation, but their voice returned as Reviled tore off his cloak. It stepped towards Thom and his daughters and stared down at them.
“You’ve had a taste of her greatness Phyreheart but is that enough?” Reviled stretched out a hand.
Thom took the metal hand. “No, my lord. I want more for myself, my daughters, and for everyone here.”
“Then we have much to do.” Reviled pulled the man to his feet.
“My lord.” A woman carrying an infant nervously approached. “Forgive me, but I ask for your guidance. My son, his mark is different from my own. What does it mean?” She held out the swaddled babe.
The woman shook as Reviled gently pulled back the blanket. A hand holding a skull marked the boy’s chest. The babe let out a small cry and his left hand grasped at a thread of necrotic mana.
“My dear, you have nothing to worry about.” Eirgnon smiled brightly as he embraced the woman. She brought her child close as he led her to the corpse. “Lady Elithis has made your son a master of death.” He smiled as he pulled at her blouse and stared at her chest. “You have been blessed as well, Saint Ilda.” The woman glanced down at the mark on her chest as Eirgnon dipped his thumb into the corpse. He pressed his thumb against the child’s forehead. “Blessed are you son of death, for the hand of Elithis is upon you.” He then placed the thumb on Ilda’s head. “Blessed are you daughter of faith, for the heart of Elithis beats in your breast.” Ilda held her son tightly as Eirgnon kissed the top of her head.
Reviled pulled Thom to the altar as Eirgnon brought Ilda. “Praise Elithis!” Reviled called out, gesturing to the two of you. “For she has given you your champions!” The congregation cheers rocked the manor.