The Desert Samurai strode confidently through the darkness, her wolf familiar trotting calmy at her side.
After a successful mission stealing almost 5,000 map pieces, she felt contented that she was holding up her side of the bargain with Chrysus – taking one giant leap towards her goal of ascending.
The temple’s interior loomed with a malicious and foreboding presence, but to The Samurai it felt warm and homey.
Large, black columns reached up, equally spaced on either side, to a ceiling which was so far above her that even with perception as good as hers, she couldn’t see it.
Storm clouds floated ominously along the higher reaches of the temple throne room and as she walked along the never-ending purple carpet, braziers burst into flame.
As light began to push back the shadows which kept the room in utter darkness, she noted robed cultists lining either side, an honour guard for their victorious hero.
I could get used to this.
When she finally reached the throne itself, she was met with a hearty clap and a smile as Chrysus jumped from his place of power, down the tall flight of stairs to greet her himself.
Stone thundered as he landed, looking like a superhero from one of the many films which had been made in the recent years before her transmigration to Celestia.
“Welcome home Yuki!” His voice boomed in delight, a slight hiss sitting in the undertones despite the lack of S’s in the sentence.
Dropping faithfully to one knee, The Samurai placed her fist over her chest and Pocco attempted to follow suit, adopting a downward facing dog pose.
“I have returned my Lord,” she announced loudly, “your bidding has been done. The Celestial pieces are firmly affixed to my person as you commanded.”
“How formal,” he smirked, his viper-like face made even more apparent by the menacing scales which reached along his cheeks. “You’ve done well my disciple, or perhaps I should say my… daughter.”
Yuki’s heart skipped a beat as she felt warm blood rushing into her cheeks. She had never been more thankful for the black oni mask which covered her face.
Why are you like this? She asked herself scathingly, it was unbecoming of a samurai warrior to show emotion, even the positive kind. She would have to seek penance later.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she replied, “thank you for bestowing upon me such an honour my Lord, I shall wear the title with a pride befitting it.”
“Yes, yes, stop being so formal girl,” Chrysus said with a wave of his hand. “If we are to be family, then you’ll need to learn to speak to me as a daughter would her father and not as a lowly peasant trying to please her feudal lord. I might be particular about how the riff raff speak to me,” he cast a scathing glare out over the cultists, many of whom began visibly shivering as his aura dominated their own. “But I have no desire to see you grovelling before me. Stand up… I said stand up. Face me like an equal.”
“I am not worthy of claiming the honour of being your equal,” The Samurai replied, standing, but refusing to look him directly in the eyes.
Not yet at least.
“Of course not,” he replied with a smile, “but who out there is? That doesn’t mean I don’t value your companionship though, it’s lonely being the most powerful entity on the planet. Why, the only ones who come close are the other members of the pantheon and they’re all terrible bores.”
Yuki stayed silent, knowing better than to interrupt his incessant monologuing.
“You’ll get to meet them up close soon dear Samurai, the time of my High Priest Tournament nears,” Licking his lips, he paused for a moment, assessing her thoroughly with his viper-like eyes.
Despite the mask which covered her flesh, Yuki began to wonder if the god could see her face anyway. With his power, anything was possible.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
What if he saw me blushing! She thought in a panic, but it was quickly quelled when he moved on.
“I have invoked the ancient right of Priesthood, a silly little bylaw which was created thousands of years ago… silly, but useful in the hands of one as cunning as I.” He looked at her expectantly and she realised that he wanted her to ask about it.
It’s like humouring a child sometimes, she sighed internally, still, despite his odd personality, she harboured nothing but the deepest of respect for the power her god held.
“What is this bylaw my Lord?”
“Why I’m glad you asked my dear,” he smiled venomously. “Bylaw 21C, subsection B states that in the event of a member of the pantheon losing their high priest they may hold a tournament to decide who is worthy of becoming the successor. More specifically, it states that any member of the pantheon may demand the attendance of the other members and they will be obligated to field their chosen champions in an inter-pantheon tournament.
“Naturally, I expect you to become my new high priest, there’s no question about that. What’s more important though, is that I have invoked this bylaw and I will need you to win, and kill, every champion in the tournament. Do you know why?”
“No, but I’d guess that it has something to with getting more of these map pieces,” The Samurai replied diplomatically.
Chrysus had been obsessed with collecting all the pieces since long before Yuki had met him. Almost every goal he had hinged on schemes to get more, though Yuki was still unsure what they actually did besides marking the skin on her back.
“Precisely my dear,” he said, clasping her armoured shoulder with his scaled hand. “We gods have been clashing over uniting all the pieces for centuries. Usually, it ends in a stale mate or an outworlder’s corpse is too thoroughly destroyed to complete the set or something… so the system resets and we play again.
“Not this time, the new stock of outworlders are really something this time and plenty of them have already been sworn into the service of one god or another. Chances are that each god will field their most capable warrior rather than risk losing face to me – I’m not the most gracious winner you see – and you outworlders are the cream of the crop.
“Of course that means that there will be plenty of celestial pieces ripe for the plucking. All I need is a fiercely capable high priestess to do the honours.”
He looked at her with a greedy stare and then grabbed her other shoulder and stared straight into her eyes.
The Samurai didn’t flinch as her god’s aura washed through her, infecting her mind and rummaging through her stats screen which flickered in front of her like a broken TV screen.
He scurried through her very soul in a way that felt both violating and… oddly pleasant, but also painful. Yet she still stood fast, gritting her teeth as he searched for something.
If this was a test she would not fail.
“As I suspected,” he said, delight etched into his face as he pulled away. “You are susceptible to receiving my gift.”
Turning on his heels, he clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth in front of Yuki. She stood silently and Pocco looked up at her, waggling a single ear as if he was asking what was happening.
“I need you to get to silver rank before the tournament begins,” he said with determined finality. “You will train and you will get there and once you take your rightful place as my high priestess I will grant you a power beyond your comprehension.”
Beneath the black oni mask, The Samurai smiled.
***
As I ducked under the vibrant exterior door of the camper I was met with a delightful smell. Warmth filled the air as melted cheese wafted enticingly towards me.
Turning into the kitchen I spied Bell and Rex giggling like two school children as he dutifully tended to the dough and she grated cheese. Something else was already in the oven and the distinct waft of rising dough tickled my nostrils.
“Rex,” I asked, “why are you wearing that?”
The lycanid was covered from head to foot in what seemed to be a yellow hazmat suit. Where had he even gotten something like that? Surely they didn’t have them in Celestia.
“It’s my cooking cover,” he replied jovially, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“You’ve never worn one when you’ve cooked for us before?”
“And every time he has cooked for us I’ve spent more time pulling fur from my teeth than I have enjoying his wonderful food,” Bell replied. “This seemed like a good solution.”
“She does make a good point, kid,” Panda said, brushing past me as he dove onto the sofa and began to nestle with a good book and a lit pipe.
“Yeah I guess…” I conceded, “Isn’t it a little hot in there though?”
In my mind I was thinking that we didn’t want him to come out of that thing reeking of wet dog, but I was too tactile to say it aloud after my last slip up with him.
“Lycanids are not afraid of a little sweat Bossman,” he growled playfully, “on the battlefield… or otherwise.”
Batting my hand at them in defeat I joined Panda on the sofa. Whatever it was they were cooking it certainly did smell delicious. It almost reminded me of…
“Wait, are you making pizza?”
“Well you did tell me to show him how,” Bell replied with a mischievous grin.
“I’m pretty sure I offered to show you how. Not that I’m complaining, what toppings are you using?”
“Well… they didn’t have any pepperoni but we managed to find cheese and something that tastes like tomatoes but looks more like… it’s purple let’s put it that way. As for the meats…”
“We bought the finest stag and doe meet around!” Rex proclaimed proudly.
I covered my mouth as the memory of being tricked by a bunch of obnoxious stag monsters flashed into my mind. I killed their stripper, who was a doe. It was all super messed up.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I said, rushing towards the bathroom to Panda’s raucous laughter and the sound of Rex asking in a puzzled voice:
“Was it something I said?”