Within sight of the city’s graceful arcing walls, the tower ahead surely belonged to Araveena. Situated within a dense cluster of trees, which to Derzina’s surprise she recognised as being from her own world rather than Soarister’s realm, it was made of light-coloured wood. Despite being a similar shape, the construction was quite unlike Erstanos’ tower. This one was wider, with windows and a door.

Encouraged by the far more welcoming appearance of Araveena’s home, along with its accessibility, she strolled right up to the door and knocked.

“Hi there,” called a high-pitched voice and a bird of silver metal fluttered down from one of the windows.

Derzina marvelled for a moment at the intricate construct, its metal wings flapping almost effortlessly to keep itself aloft, before reminding herself that she had important business to attend to. “Hello. My name is Derzina, I’ve come to speak with Araveena.”

“I’m afraid Araveena is away at the moment. Though I may be able to help you in her stead, what is this regarding?”

“A task of considerable importance, the outcome of which will determine the fate of cities, quite probably including this one. It’s a little hard to explain; I’d rather go over with Araveena herself if that’s alright with you. Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Probably not until tomorrow, but if its urgent you could always seek her out in the city.”

“She’s in the city?” Derzina asked, she’d assumed the wizard would have business somewhere far more distant. “Then I’ll go and meet with her, if I can. Where would I find her?”

“Most likely in the company of Inea, or somewhere within her palace.”

Derzina cleared her throat. “And where might I find this palace?”

“You don’t know?” the bird asked, dumbfounded.

The bird’s reaction threw her for a moment, until it occurred to her that it hadn’t realised she wasn’t from around here.

“I’ve travelled here from Ortesion to see Araveena, and I’m afraid I know nothing of your city beyond the name.”

It seemed prudent to leave out her trip to the Great Rift and the corrupted city within, it would only make people suspicious.

“A visitor? Oh my, I don’t believe we’ve ever had one of those before. Well I’m sure Araveena shall be delighted to meet you. At least until you explain why you came here, that part doesn’t sound very delightful at all.”

“That’s all well and good,” Derzina said, clearing her throat, “but I’d appreciate those directions, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, right, of course.”

The bird explained that the palace was the huge structure near the northern wall, which was the one closest to her. Nodding and thanking the bird for its help, Derzina set off toward the city.

She was approaching the base of the walls, wondering how she was going to get inside given the lack of entrances, when a figure in light armour descended via a rope. Not wanting to alarm whoever was clearly coming to accost her, Derzina remained where she was and waited.

“What should we do?” she asked internally.

“I’ll speak with them,” Atasimon said, “that ought to resolve things more quickly. I imagine they’ll be much more likely to take the word of a god, over that of a wayward human without a city. No offense.”

“I’m sure you’re right about that, go ahead then.”

Atasimon rose to the forefront of Derzina’s mind, and called out to the approaching figure in a booming voice, “I am Atasimon, Lady of the Twisted Veil; identify yourself.”

Only when they reached the ground did the soldier reply.

“I am Mostanto, Paladin of Xanathel. He told me of your coming, and asked that I convey you to him upon your arrival.”

“I would be happy to meet with him,” Atasimon said, “but I prefer to do so after I’ve spoken with Inea, I have important business with her.”

“I assure you Xanathel is more than capable of assisting you with anything Inea might be able to help you with.”

“Though I don’t doubt that, there is simply no substitute for Inea in this matter.”

“Then at least meet with him briefly on your way to her palace; he awaits you just beyond the wall.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Can’t this wait?”

“Please,” the soldier pleaded, “it is imperative that he speaks with you as soon as possible. I swear it will not delay you long, and then you will be free to do as you wish.”

He seemed utterly sincere in his desire to do his god’s bidding, something which Derzina found all too relatable. That same earnest desire to serve her people and her god still lived within her. It was what kept her going, more than anything else.

“You may as well hear what Xanathel has to say,” Derzina said, within her own head. “We can afford a slight delay.”

“Fine,” Atasimon said aloud, “take me to him.”

“A thousand blessings upon you, my lady,” Mostanto said, bowing before her. “Then I shall meet you atop the wall, and we will go from there.”

As he climbed the rope, Atasimon’s shadows extended around her and quickly carried her past him. Reaching the top, she looked out at the city. Though the city was larger and the architecture more elegant, it was enough like home to make Derzina’s heart ache and she wondered if she might find a place here, once Meztraxia was vanquished.

Alone on the wall, for this stretch was deserted, Atasimon waited and knelt down when Mostanto was close to the top. She extended her hand and pulled him the rest of the way.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, out of breath. “Now, if you’ll allow me to lead the way.”

Atasimon nodded and followed him as he descended the narrow staircase built into the wall.

Once they were back outside, Mostanto gestured toward a low building ahead of them of plain stone and said, “Xanathel waits you within, my lady.”

“Thank you,” Atasimon said, walking toward it without the slightest hesitation.

The windowless interior was dimly lit and smelt of dust and oil. Ordered racks of weapons and ammunition stood within; clearly it was an armoury. The silhouette of a man sat in the dark ahead of them, barely visible.

“Then it truly is you,” the man said, speaking just above a whisper. “I had wondered if my senses deceived me.”

“Here I am in the flesh,” Atasimon said, “in a manner of speaking.”

“Mm, you do look different.”

“As do you. Time changes us all.”

A flickering blue light appeared in the air before Xanathel, illuminating a long-haired man with dark eyes and a deep cleft in his cheek which was covered in old scar tissue.

“That it does,” he said, with a wry grin on the undamaged side of his face. “Close the door, I’d rather we discuss this in private.”

Atasimon did as requested, exhaling through her nose in amusement.

“About that,” she said, once they were cut off from the outside world with all its light, “I’m never alone anymore. I was brought back by the sacrifice of Derzina Omun, a Paladin in the service of Ortesia, who now selflessly allows me to exist in this world once more.”

Had she been in control of her body, Derzina would have smiled as her eyes misted up, but as Atasimon was otherwise engaged she let the goddess continue undisturbed.

“I suppose that would explain your miraculous resurrection,” Xanathel said, “though I am curious as to what brought you all the way here.”

“Ortesion fell at the hands of the Demon Lord Meztraxia, along with my sister Ortesia. He possesses something known as the Heart of Heart of Imistala, which is capable of absorbing even the magic of a god. I have come to meet Araveena, who I am told can assist me in bringing this terrible threat to an end.”

“I extend my condolences for your loss to the both of you, it must have come as quite a shock. I assume it was all over quickly?”

“It was, on both accounts,” Atasimon said. “Yet, you don’t seem too surprised.”

“From what little news I get of the outside world, what happened to Ortesion is hardly an isolated incident. Two other cities have fallen within the past few years; it appears the demons are in the process of a major offensive.”

“I see, I had no idea such events were underway. I’m afraid my long absence has left me rather ignorant of such things.”

Shaking his head, Xanathel showed his teeth. Perfectly white as they were, his injury made it so the two rows didn’t even come close to aligning.

“You’re little different from the rest of us in that regard, we may as well be prisoners in our own city for all that we know of what happens outside it. Only through Araveena do we get any idea of what might be coming.”

“You claim to be ignorant of it,” Atasimon said, “but you seemed to have no trouble noticing me before I even arrived in the city.”

“I was just fortunate enough to be trying to discern the movements of that very same Araveena when you showed up. Though I may not be able to sense much out there in this twisted world, I can at least figure out that my mother is on her way.”

A sudden pain shot through Derzina’s head, and she cried out within her own mind. Or so she thought, as she was momentarily thrust back into control of her body. The cry had barely left her throat before Atasimon was back.

“You…” Atasimon said, struggling to get the words out. “You’re saying you’re my son?”

His eyes crinkled in a combination of amusement and confusion. “Of course, is this some sort of joke? Because I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”

“I’m not trying to be humorous; the battle against the Demon King cost me more than just my life. I also lost almost all memory of my family.”

“I see,” Xanathel said, dusting off his shirt. “Well there was little love lost between us, if that makes you feel any better. Though if you’re anything like you used to be, I doubt you’re too broken up about it.”

“I can’t speak much to what I was like in the past, but you’re right that I have other priorities right now. Perhaps we can talk of the past later, when there’s nothing at stake.”

“Perhaps. I didn’t summon you here to reminisce. Do you recall anything of Inea?”

Atasimon shook her head. “The name sounds familiar to me, but I don’t believe I ever met her.”

“That’s likely for the best, as she is nothing like she once was. I fear governing a city has worn away at her, making her paranoid and ungrateful of the aid of others. I would be wary of relying on her gratitude or good graces.”

“That’s the only reason you wished to speak with me?” Atasimon asked. “To deliver a warning?”

“Not exactly. I also wanted to confirm if it was really you and hear why you’d come for myself, rather than learn about it second-hand from Inea. Now that I’ve done that, I’ll let you be your way. Mostanto will escort you to the palace, assuming you find that arrangement agreeable.”

“I do. Goodbye, Xanathel.”

“Remember to keep your senses about you while in Inea’s company,” he said, remaining where he was and waving goodbye.

Atasimon returned to Mostanto, leaving her son in the armoury, and said, “To the palace then.”