The moment she touched the stone tablet, Aerion was transported elsewhere. Not physically—she could still feel her body, frozen in place in Dominion’s temple—but her mind had been taken to the top of a vast volcano. Magma erupted, spewing forth ash and lava. Lava that, Aerion guessed, would eventually turn to Obsidian.
Please choose the name you wish to show to the world.
The divine words floated before her, awaiting her reply.
Aerion thought for a moment. Her name may have been common amongst elvenkind, but there was no need to take such a risk. No, better to use an alias. One that held meaning for her.
“Emma,” Aerion muttered, heart clenching. Another prompt appeared.
Name accepted. Do you wish to dedicate your Blessing?
“Yes!”
This was the moment she’d waited for all her life. To gain the strength to protect herself. To help others. And it was the moment she got to dedicate a Blessing to the god of her choice.
She’d thought long and hard, and concluded it should go to the god who bestowed it, forever altering the course of her life.
“I wish to dedicate my Blessing to Mighty Dominion!”
Unable to comply. Champions may only dedicate Blessings to their patron god.
Blessing of Rank: Emergence has been dedicated to the god of Order.
What!?
Aerion blanched as her name appeared on the Celestial Ranking, listed in place next to dozens of others.
Her thoughts seized, and for a moment, she couldn’t move.
Eyes frantically flitting back and forth, she read the floating words over and over, doubting her own sanity.
No. Nononono! This can’t be happening!
“There must be some mistake!” she screamed up at the ash-darkened sky. “I-I can’t be Order’s Champion! I’m not from another world!”
Her cries were answered only by silence.
“Please! Dominion, I beg you! Please hear me!” she pleaded as her mind was yanked away. “Let it be any god. Anyone but Order!”
Aerion reeled as her mind returned to her body.
She hesitantly retracted her palm from the tablet.
Shock turned to confusion. And confusion gave way to anger as Aerion’s mind pieced together the truth.
“Aerion?” Greg whispered. “Uh, everything oka—”
Cold rage burned in her veins. Greg.
How could she have been so naive?
Aerion hefted the weapons they’d taken from the Trial and stomped away, ignoring his questions.
There was so much about him that ought to have set off warning bells in her head—and they did… Initially. His uncanny knowledge of specific things, his competency at getting them out of sticky situations with ease, his ability to give Blessings!
If Greg’s Blessing hadn’t been a warning sign, Aerion didn’t rightly know what was. And yet, she’d ignored it. Believed his excuse about hitting his head. He’d saved her life numerous times without asking for anything in return—even volunteering to save Emma. Such thoughts couldn’t have been anything but paranoia. Through it all, she’d rationalized that Greg wasn’t the sort of person who’d play tricks on her.
Who could blame her? After losing Emma and fighting for her life on a daily basis, she’d hardly been in the best frame of mind.
And while Greg may not have been a trickster, Order absolutely was. Order was exactly the sort to traipse among the mortals, happily pretending like the Cataclysms didn’t exist while the other gods labored to end them.
Aerion reached the temple door and exited onto the street, barely minding the traffic and the rain as she weaved through pedestrians and avoided carriages with ease. Her legs moved on their own, taking her across a street and turning a corner. Her mind was elsewhere, lost in a maelstrom of thought.
How is this possible?
Upon receiving a Boon or Blessing, every delver was allowed to choose which of the Celestials to dedicate the feat to.
Instead, she had received a message reserved for only six people in the world. This fact was so widely known that even a small-town orphan like Aerion was aware of it.
They were the six Champions. Seven now, she corrected herself. In return for being summoned from other worlds by their god, they were not allowed to choose their dedications.
“Sir?” the inn’s clerk asked. “Is there a problem?”
Aerion shook her head, producing the coin from one of her robe’s many hidden pockets. “One night. Two beds,” she mumbled, surprised that her feet had already carried her to the inn.
She couldn’t recall what occurred after, though when she arrived at her room on the second floor, with Greg trailing after her, hefting his stack of weapons on his shoulder, the cloud that hung over Aerion’s mind vanished.
“I’m sorry,” Greg said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Is that right?” Aerion stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Greg, who faced her, looking confused and worried.
“I never wanted this power. Believe me. That’s a fact. I’m going to bring it up with Cosmo the moment I see him. I promise, if there’s anything I can do about this, I will. It’s wrong. It’s not right.”
Aerion’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Uh, well, you know. Right? The System Message?”
“I see,” Aerion said as understanding dawned. Order was spinning falsehoods to deceive her. As he’d always done. Did he really think he could fool her? After Dominion had shown her the truth?
“I see now that you intend to keep lying to me. And why wouldn’t you?”
“Come again?” Greg said, looking confused.
But of course he would. Order was scum. He was also a deity—acting the part of an innocent, confused warrior was well within his means.
If he hoped to catch her off-guard, he was sorely mistaken. Aerion had long thought of what she’d say if she ever spoke with the God of Order.
“You killed my grandfather. You brought my family to ruin. And now… Now, you’re ruining my life, too.” Tears welled up in her eyes and began streaming down her cheeks. “First with Emma. And now this!”
“Aerion? You need to relax. I honestly don’t know what—”
“Just kill me now if you’re going to make me suffer, oh mighty God of Order!”
Order had bestowed her with a Blessing. Order had used Emma’s death to ensure she had no choice but to accept his Blessing. And Order had watched as she found out the truth at Dominion’s temple.
Champions of the gods always hailed from other worlds, and the God of Order had never once summoned one. Not in all the millennia that the Cataclysms had ravaged the world. After all, if he had, there would be no more Cataclysms. Champions wouldn’t need to exist. If not for Order and his careless, cruel neglect.
Even now, Aerion could scarcely believe it. Now, for the first time in recorded history, Order had chosen a Champion.
Of course he’d buck tradition. Of course he’d choose her, of all people. To watch her suffer. As if the damage he’d already done to her family wasn’t enough.
“Huh?”
“Pretending will get you nowhere, Order,” Aerion said, frustrated that the deity continued to play dumb. “The Temple of Dominion recognized me as your Champion. You bestowed upon me my Divine Blessing. You are Order. The proof is irrefutable.”
Order didn’t argue. He didn’t even seem offended. He laughed. He actually laughed.
“You think I’m your god?” Order stared at her with utter bewilderment.
Aerion’s blood boiled. Fury blinded her thoughts.
“You are not my god,” she seethed. “I owe nothing to you. Not after all you’ve wrought. Every day, I lie awake, cursing your name.”
Aerion turned away, then spun back on him. “It’s why you chose me, isn’t it?”
“That’s… I…” For the first time since Aerion had known him, Greg seemed at a loss for words. He shrunk back under her gaze, his back against the room’s door.
She would not let him escape. If he tried, she’d activate her Blessing. Not the one given to her by Greg—the God of Order. But the one Dominion had blessed her with.
Maybe she couldn’t kill a god. She might not even be able to hurt him. But she would damn well try.
“Aerion, please hear me out,” Greg sputtered at last. “I don’t know what happened back there, but you’re being unreasonable right now. Can you please just let me—”
“What can you even say at this point? Other than the truth?”
“I’m trying to tell you the truth. I bled in that dungeon. I almost died in that dungeon. You think a god would get injured so easily!?” His eyes bore into Aerion’s, as if trying to prove he wasn’t lying.
“Deities change forms. They can imitate whoever they like. In any condition they like. I always knew something was off about you. Ever since I saw you in those ridiculous clothes,” she said, thrusting a finger at his shirt. “I should’ve known the moment you gave me that Blessing.”
“A Blessing that saved your life!” Order shot back. “That gave you the power you said you always wanted!”
“That’s not the point!” Aerion broke in.
“Isn’t it, though? Without that Blessing, you’d have died in there, and don’t pretend otherwise. It was only by working together that we got out. You know this.”
Aerion hesitated. Aerion’s Elven Reaver Blessing was so far beyond anything she’d ever expected. Beyond even her wildest dreams. Without it, would she have survived? Would she have thought of using the submersibles to ascend without Gre—Order's input?
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And yet, what of it? What of her grandfather, who died in disgrace? Or her mother, who slowly rotted away in the slums while looking after her?
Saving Aerion’s life didn’t erase Order’s role in their deaths—in the destruction of her entire family’s legacy. It didn’t undo all those years she’d lived out on the streets, shivering, begging for scraps. Lying coughing and freezing in the cold when she was sick. Hoping for a single day when she wouldn’t have to fear the attention of mangy slumlords and drunkards.
And never once had Order, with his immeasurable power, lifted a finger to help. Despite his millennia of neglect and abdication of duty being the cause of it all.
Why? Why did you let them all die?
She had to know—had a burning desire to know.
Aerion refocused her mind and began to run through the evidence.
“You bestowed a Blessing. Never in history has a mortal bestowed a Blessing to another. It’s impossible.”
She’d rationalized it away, but facts were facts. It proved, without a shred of a doubt, that Greg was a deity.
“That’s… uh,” he paused, and that irritating nervous smile returned. “I admit I don’t have a great response to that. But—”
Aerion cut him off before he could waste her time with more meaningless excuses. “That is not all. I was not given an option to choose which god to dedicate my Blessing to. I was told I am the Champion of Order.” She spat the name as she finished.
“Er, sorry? You mean back at that weird stone? That’s what you were doing? Why would you dedicate your Blessing to a god?” It seemed Order planned to continue his ridiculous charade.
Aerion fought down her mounting anger.
“Only Champions of the gods do not get a choice,” she replied through gritted teeth. It was common knowledge. Almost as well known as the Cataclysms and the Archon who led them.
“Oh. Oh shit…” Greg stammered, running his fingers through his hair. “Aerion, the System mistook you as an extension of me. Because of the Blessing I gave you. It was the same in that white room when we received Dominion’s Blessing. It was like it was… confused.”
Aerion struggled to understand his words. “What are you saying?”
The deity groaned, seemingly arriving at some epiphany. “I think… I think we’ve been fooled, Aerion. Both of us. And if that’s true, then… Wow. This is ridiculous. I bet Cosmo’s up there right now, falling off his—”
“There is no Cosmo! There are only the seven Celestials!” Aerion cried, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“That’s what I mean! He lied to me! I don’t know why, but he lied about his name!” His eyes were filled with something like hurt or fear.
Aerion’s blood ran cold. What was he saying? He was Order! The evidence was insurmountable. Why was he denying it?
“The only one spouting lies is you!” Aerion spat, feeling the anger mounting once again. Of all the things—some convoluted story about a false god called Cosmo?
“I swear to you, I’m not,” Order said. “I promise all of this will make sense when I’m finished. Can you please just hear me out?”
Aerion hesitated. Why should she listen to this god’s words? Surely, he had ways of getting her to believe anything he said?
Fear coursed through her. What if he convinced her?
Then again, did Aerion truly have a choice? This was a deity she was dealing with. He’d no doubt have ways of forcing her to listen.
She let him speak.
“Alright, so,” Greg took a deep breath. “I never hit my head.”
“Come again?” Aerion asked, bewildered. This was not what she’d been expecting. Then again, that seemed to be a common theme with this deity who called himself Greg.
“Back on the fifth floor. I told you I hit my head. I… said I’d lost my memories,” Greg continued, averting his eyes as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “My memories are intact. They, uh, always have been.”
“So you admit you deceived me.” Aerion shifted her weight and clutched her left arm, as if trying to crush it.
“I did.” Greg said, looking away.
“Why? What were you trying to hide?”
“I’m not from this world. I’m from a world called Earth.” Greg’s eyes flicked from the floor to Aerion. “I’m… I guess I’m what you’d call an Otherworlder.”
“You’re lying.”
“Just think about it. All those times I knew stuff? All the idioms I said that didn’t make sense? If this has happened before, you must have heard of other Champions behaving similarly, right?”
Aerion’s eyes widened. “That’s…”
It was true. Though they spoke the world’s languages, Champions often spoke in stilted dialects and used phrases unknown to others.
A seed of doubt formed at the back of Aerion’s mind.
“If you’re not from this world… And Order summoned you… Then—”
Greg gave Aerion a sheepish smile. “That’s right. I think I’m Order’s Champion.”
“You think?” Aerion said, tone dripping with derision. “If you were a Champion, you would know.”
“Believe me, this is as much of a shock for me as it is you. I only found out when we stepped through that portal to receive Dominion’s Blessing. I got a message telling me. Cosmo—Order—said nothing. Not a peep.” Greg crossed his arms and frowned. “In fact, he even denied it.”
“That makes no sense,” Aerion replied, frowning. “Why would your patron deity lie about something so critical? Deities shower their heroes with as much power and knowledge as they can!”
Though, Aerion had to admit, it did sound like something Order would do.
“I’m genuinely as confused as you are, Aerion. I have so many questions…”
It had to be a lie. Order was spinning a convoluted tale to mislead her. Nothing more. All of his excuses were things the Gods would know.
And yet, of all the lies he could’ve concocted, why this? Order knew how much Aerion hated him, and by extension, any Champion he’d summon. Why use such a cover story if he wished to continue to accompany her? Why would he even want to?
Then again, who knew how the minds of the gods worked? Aerion knew firsthand just how twisted Order truly was.
“I know my Blessing’s weird. Cosmo had me go through this whole selection process where I got to pick it. This was the one I landed on, since it was the most versatile. He never told me why he wanted me here, or even any details about the world. Just dropped me into that Trial from the get-go. I…”
Greg’s face flushed. “I thought he cared, at least a little,” he muttered to himself.
“Why would your god say nothing? That makes no sense,” Aerion said, frowning in confusion. “The Champions always know the basics of our world when they arrive. And none of them are summoned into a Trial. And certainly not in another god’s territory.”
“That was my doing,” the deity replied. “I took on a penalty that started me in that Trial. And that knowledge probably comes from the Welcome Package, which I forewent.”
“Deities do not allow their Champions to pick and choose like this! It would be absurd to let a mortal lacking basic knowledge of our world decide how to fight the Cataclysm!” Aerion exclaimed.
It was more likely that Order was making up these lies to confuse her. They didn’t even make sense. Then again, Order had never chosen a Champion before. Perhaps the negligent god was simply incapable of doing anything right.
“Why don’t you just come clean?” Aerion pleaded. “Tell me why you are doing this.”
“I don’t know what more I can say!” Order shouted, looking utterly exasperated.
Order—Greg—had never shouted at her before. Not outside of emergencies.
The look of hurt on Greg’s face was so genuine that Aerion found her resolve wavering, just for a moment.
She bit her lip and her gaze fell to the ground. Was he telling the truth?
His sporadic knowledge and his explanations were the poorest lies she’d ever heard. But if he was from another world…? Suddenly, his story felt more plausible.
No. Regardless of his reaction, the irrefutable fact remained.
Greg had given Aerion a Blessing when no mortal—Champion or otherwise—ever had.
“In the Trial. What Blessing did you receive?” Aerion asked, attempting to dispel her doubt.
“None, actually,” Greg replied, looking relieved. “It said that because I was a Champion, my Blessing got turned into experience instead. That irked me a bit, but I actually ranked up three times and went from Foundation to Emergence so I suppose it worked out. All because of the battle with the dragon,” he finished, taking a long breath after. He tilted his head. “Why?”
Aerion didn’t reply. Champions could not accept any Blessing other than the one ordained to them by their patron deity. Instead, upon clearing a Trial, their Divine Blessing was strengthened. Which gave her pause… how could it be possible that she had received a second Blessing?
If she was Order’s Champion, it should have been impossible.
No, this again proved nothing. This was Order. He had never summoned a Champion. Perhaps the Blessing restriction was due to the Champions being Otherworlders? Dominion’s Temple confirmed she was a Champion.
“I’m… Really not getting through to you, am I?”
He sounded so sad.
“If I really was Order, would I have risked my life for Emma? You saw how badly I got hurt, didn’t you? Would I have given you that Blessing, even though it consumed a full third of my capacity? Would I have saved your life all those times?”
Aerion opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the words. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to believe. Had he truly made some sort of sacrifice to give her this power?
Would Order have done that?
A battle waged in Aerion’s mind. What if he wasn’t Order? Then she’d have mistreated the person without whom she’d have perished. Who’d risked his life to save both Emma and herself, despite only having just met. Greg was... dear to her. He'd been the only one who'd ever shown so much care. Aerion wished for nothing more than to be wrong.
Then again, if he was a deity, he wouldn’t have been in any danger. He could’ve looked like a saint, all to deceive her. He could have saved Em—no. She cut off that thought.
“How am I supposed to believe you?” Was all Aerion managed in the end. Her words came out hoarse, her anger nowhere to be found.
Greg’s face fell. He looked outside, to the pattering, unceasing rain.
“This is pointless,” he said at last. “And it’ll remain pointless unless I can find some miraculous way to prove to you that I’m not a god.” Greg shook his head and barked a laugh.
“You find that funny, do you?”
“No, Aerion,” Greg replied, gazing off into the distance. “Not funny. Just… impossible. I think… I need to clear my head. Get some fresh air. Will you… Will you be here when I get back?”
It was as if a dagger had pierced Aerion’s heart. His words pierced through her rage, striking something deeper within.
Abandon him. Flee. He only lies to you. A voice spoke in her head. It was the voice that had kept her alive. That had allowed an orphan to survive on her own, far from home.
It was the cold voice that swore revenge upon all those who had wronged her and her family.
It was useful and pragmatic. And Aerion hated it with every shred of her being.
Because there was another voice in her head. One that ridiculed all the times she’d prioritized herself over the wellbeing of others in the name of survival. The voice that yearned for something more. Purpose. To be something greater than just the sole living daughter of a disgraced family. Like in the Trial. When she’d promised the dying delver that she would help his wife.
The two voices warred with one other, and Aerion struggled to open her mouth.
Greg’s eyes sank to the floor, and she could almost feel the sadness radiating off him as he opened the door and left.
Aerion stumbled forward, reaching out as the door closed shut. She sank to her knees, back sliding down against the door.
Why didn’t she say anything? Why did her voice fail her?
“I’ll be here,” she whispered. “I won’t run away.”
She wasn’t even sure she could. How could a mortal ever hope to outrun a god?
----------------------------------------
When I walked out of the room, what I felt, more than anything, was frustration.
Partially towards Aerion, for the way she felt despite our experiences together, but also partially at Cosmo, and at myself.
At failing to understand what was going on in Aerion’s head. That whole conversation gave me a headache—it felt like we were speaking different languages. And it had all gone so well in the Trial, too.
Now… Would Aerion even be there when I got back? And if she wasn’t, what would I do? Would I live out my time in this world with 1/3 less Essence? And just as importantly, could I be absolutely certain I’d never use that power in a moment of rage or desperation?
It’d be so easy, so trivial to take it… But it would kill her. With just a thought. She’d be gone. I’d have my Essence back as if nothing happened. It was clear just how important my Essence pool was, and how important it’d be going forward.
If this was a power I had over those I considered my enemies, it wouldn’t have weighed on me nearly as much. Yes, I hadn’t killed anyone yet, but I wasn’t naive enough to think such a thing could never happen. And while I might wrestle with the consequences of my actions afterward, I’d move on.
This was different. This was Aerion. Someone I’d been through life-or-death situations with, and the only person I knew at all in this world.
Nobody should have to live with a threat like that looming over their heads. It was wrong. It was disgusting, and I banished the thought from my head. If only Cosmo hadn’t set up the Blessing in this way…
So much of what I knew about the god was starting to unravel. Why had he lied about his name? Why had he given me this power over Aerion’s life? And why’d he let things come to this? If Cosmo wanted me to stick with Aerion, none of this was helping.
Given that I didn’t know my way around this city, I wasn’t about to venture far. Our inn was on a cobblestone main road with a lot of foot traffic, and a few horse-drawn carriages and wagons trying to thread the crowd.
Chaotic and lively, despite the rain. If it weren’t overcast, it’d actually be a really pleasant scene. Assuming you weren’t part of that traffic, of course.
There wasn’t anything like a sidewalk, so I stuck to the side of the road, looking out for one of the oversized signs that had an image of a mug overflowing with frothing liquid on it.
I wasn’t sure such a thing would exist, but well, I’d like to think humans were humans in any world.
Because I desperately needed a drink.
It didn’t take long. I found one on the corner of the next block. I opened the door and stepped in.
A familiar, homely smell immediately hit me.
And a jukebox played smooth jazz in the corner, right next to an old arcade machine.