“What’s Xanathel doing right now?” Gorthar asked, once they were outside his temple.

“That’s a good question,” Derzina said. “I’m not really sure.”

“You’re not sure?” Gorthar demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be working together?”

“Well, we share a common goal but we’re not exactly working together toward it right now. He said we should appeal to the people directly; do you have any idea how best to go about that?”

She’d considered simply setting up in a public space and speaking at length on the evils of Inea’s rule, but she doubted people would listen to her. They already knew how they were suffering far better than she did and a call to action by an outsider wasn’t likely to change much, especially without any divine support.

“Nope. In my experience it’s much easier to convince people to be oppressed or to oppress one another than it is to get them to break that cycle.”

“Then what would you do?”

“I was hoping you two would have some suggestions, given that you’re apparently trying to fulfil some grand plan; but I see that this attempt is just as ill-considered as I’d imagined it to be.”

Derzina’s heart sunk and she feared he might already have given up on their cause. “Then you no longer wish to aid us?”

“I never had any desire to in the first place, but I gave you my word, and I’ll see this through on my own terms.”

“Then I assume you have a course you’d rather pursue than rousing the people?”

“I do. One I think is more likely to succeed, at any rate. Inea is the heart of all this, I will rip her out and put an end to this foolishness.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Derzina asked. It seemed bound to result in another battle between gods, wasn’t that exactly what they’d been trying to avoid?

“There’s no wisdom in any of this, all the more reason to put a stop to it as quickly as possible.”

Desperately unsure as to if bringing Gorthar into this had been a good idea, Derzina walked beside him to the palace. Despite his words, he set a leisurely enough pace which left Derzina ample time to worry over what might happen. She wasn’t usually given to worrying, but she couldn’t help herself when the fate of the city hung in the balance.

The streets around the palace were largely deserted and Derzina fancied that they might have an easy path to Inea, right until they reached the palace’s outer grounds to find it swarming with Inea’s Paladins. Ranks of green-armoured men and woman turned to face them as they approached. Or to be more precise, turned to face Gorthar. They paid little attention to Derzina.

“The palace is off limits until further notice,” bellowed a man Derzina recognised as Temius, the same man who’d raided Xanathel’s temple.

Not wishing to incur the wrath of the soldiers unduly, Derzina stayed back while Gorthar approached unfazed.

“You forget yourself,” he said, “nowhere is off limits to me, this is my city as much as hers and you’ve no authority to tell me anything.”

Doing credit to his courage or his foolishness, Derzina wasn’t sure which, Teimus refused to back down. “Leave at once, or we will remove you by force.”

The faces of those around him looked rather less certain about his threat but they remained by Temius’ side as he barred the passage of a god.

“You are welcome to try,” Gorthar said, strolling toward the palace.

“I will not warn you again,” Temius said, “halt!”

Gorthar ignored his warning and the Paladin slammed into the robed god at full force. Though it was surely enough to bring most people to the ground, his efforts made not the slightest impression on Gorthar. The Paladin may as well have been trying to hold back a raging river for all the effect he had.

His fellows, perhaps taking courage from his bold display, jumped in to help. But to their cries of dismay, they found themselves incapable of even slowing Gorthar. After a few steps of effortlessly dragging the half a dozen people hanging off him, Gorthar paused.

“You cannot stop me,” he said, “leave me to pass in peace and I shall overlook your actions.”

The Paladins broke off and moved aside, all except for Temius who decided to definitively cross the oft thin line between bravery and stupidity. Shouting something meaningless but encouraging, he drew his blade and struck at Gorthar.

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In one sweep of his arm, the god broke both the blade and its bearer. Not sparing a glance for the fallen, Gorthar stepped over the man writhing in pain and advanced on the palace. Wiping his hand on his robes, Gorthar shouted with such force that Derzina’s ears rung and she shielded them with her hands.

“Inea,” he roared, “face me!”

When no reply came, he put his fist through the stone wall and tore it asunder like a piece of paper. His rampage continued until the ground was strewn with rubble and Inea emerged, clad in all-encompassing plate armour with a halberd in her hands and a sword at her hip.

“Thrown in with the other traitors, have you?” Inea asked, her scorn palpable even with her face hidden by steel.

“Someone had to put an end to your little war, this seemed the fastest way to do it. Now, will you surrender your hold over the city willingly? Or would you prefer to do this the hard way and mess up more of your fancy palace?”

“I would sooner die than surrender to the likes of you, I will not give in to threats.”

“As you wish. Know that I take no pleasure in this, though I’m sure that will bring you no comfort.”

As he approached, Inea swung the halberd’s axe head in a wide arc and sent it hurtling toward him. Brushing aside the blow as one would an errant insect, he caught the haft of her weapon and tore it from her hands. He broke it broke it over his knee and let the pieces fall to the ground.

Inea’s sword was halfway drawn when Gorthar’s fist caved in her breastplate, sending her to the ground. As she struggled to rise, he set his foot on her chest and ground her into the dirt.

“Don’t,” he said, “this isn’t worth your life.”

When she continued to fumble for her sword despite his advice, Gorthar lifted her by the feet and swung her into the wall of her palace. The white stone splintered and collapsed atop Inea. Shoving aside the debris, Inea staggered to her feet with sword in hand.

“There is nothing I would rather die for than my city,” Inea said, defiant.

“So be it,” Gorthar said, stepping toward her.

The faces of the men and women around Derzina reflected the fear and impotence within her. But she couldn’t let that stop her. If she left this matter for the gods to decide it could only end in tragedy.

“Wait!” she shouted and Gorthar paused. “The last thing we need is more dead gods, especially from fighting with each other.” She turned to Inea. “Lady Inea, as applaudable as your determination is, this is not what the people want. Do you really think your followers will be happy to know that you died purely for the sake of continuing your rule?”

When Inea stopped but didn’t reply, Derzina addressed the silent crowd of Paladins. “Why don’t we ask them? Do you wish your god to sacrifice herself here; fighting a pointless battle she cannot hope to win?”

Looking at the collected faces, Derzina saw only incomprehension. Was this how she’d looked when she first heard Ortesia had fallen? It seemed likely, and she could understand how overwhelmed they must be, but this was no time for sympathy.

“Please, if you ever had any faith in her, speak now or she will die here today.”

It began as a murmur of despair, rising until they were crying out in horror and begging Inea not to throw her life away. Tears flowed unchecked, and even the gravely injured Temius was far more dismayed at his goddess’ plight than his own.

Steeling herself, Derzina moved between the gods and faced Inea. Only the goddess’ eyes were visible from behind her helm, and they were full of fury as she clutched her sword. Yet there was an uncertainty to her stance which gave Derzina hope she might convince the goddess after all.

“Please, let this end without further bloodshed. No one wishes you to leave the city or anything so drastic, just that you allow your people enough freedom to live in peace.”

Inea’s sword arm trembled and to Derzina’s relief, she tossed it at Gorthar’s feet.

“The city is yours,” Inea said.

“Thank you, child,” Gorthar said. “That is all we wished.”

“Then it seems it’s my time to step in,” Xanathel said, voice rich with smug satisfaction as he emerged from the gathered Paladins with Mostanto by his side. “I’ll figure out the details of her surrender, that we might restore proper order to this city and rid it of tyranny once and for all.”

As he reached Derzina, he put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for all that you have done, our city is blessed to have received your presence. This is your victory as much as anyone’s.”

Embarrassed by the praise, particularly in such a public setting, Derzina just nodded and went after the departing Gorthar. Xanathel did nothing to stop her, instead retiring to the palace with Inea.

“I’m still not sure I agree with your methods,” Derzina said to Gorthar, once they’d left the Paladins behind, “but you made Inea see sense where no one else could.”

Gorthar grunted in dissatisfaction. “All I did was beat my granddaughter, probably would killed her if you hadn’t done anything. Am I meant to take pride in that?”

“Well, no.” Derzina floundered for a few moments, thrown by the grim reality reflected within his words before rallying. “You can take pride in having ended her tyranny without further loss of life. That’s the most important part, that’s what people will remember of this day.”

“Maybe,” Gorthar said, not sounding the least bit convinced. “Maybe they’ll remember the fall of their beloved goddess and the dark days that followed. Either way, I wash my hands of it. This is your mess now. Yours and the crook you’re in league with.” He stopped in the street, looking at her with tired contempt. “This is goodbye, I don’t want to hear from either of you again. I’ve given enough of my life to end the foolishness you two began.”

“You’re wrong,” Derzina declared, unable to let him go like this. “People will look back on this as the day their city rose to glory, I’ll make sure of it.”

Gorthar’s eyes bored into her as he searched her features. “You really believe that, don’t you? That one mortal can change the course of this whole city. How is it you think you can do what Xanathel failed to do for all these years?”

“Because I’m working on the people’s behalf to do what’s right. They know my cause to be righteous, all they need is a little nudge and they’ll be the ones to make it reality.”

She may not have much power, but she knew the people of the city had all they needed to make it a better place. Besides, she was more than a mere mortal now, that had to count for something.

“I thought I didn’t have any pity to spare for mortals after all these years, but I pity you.”

With that, Gorthar walked off and Derzina let the sour old god go. Let him dwell in the past, he’d done his part and there was a future to build. Not letting his pessimism get to her, Derzina went back to the palace.