Concentrate. Breathe in. Allow your senses to flow through your entire body. Now, try to recall that sense of innate understanding from the first time you summoned your manifestation. Breathe out. Concentrate. Now—

“Xeph, we talked about this,” Callan said out of the corner of his mouth. He had his eyes squeezed tight, his feet spread wide on the training room floor. “No mystic kung-fu mumbo jumbo.”

This is not ‘mumbo-jumbo’, whatever strange human notion that might be. It is rooted in generations of practice by avatars and gods since time immemorial!

“Yeah, I’ve heard that spiel before. My uncle loved to talk about innate talents and ancestral heritage and crap like that.” Callan opened his eyes and let out a sigh. Even knowing what he was looking for, this new technique was difficult beyond measure.

It had been three days since Kivi and Shamain had departed for the neighboring villages, the former in the company of an older Etruscian woman, the latter with two of her brawnier grandchildren.

Callan suspected Shamain intended to use them more for carrying her than protection on the way to Seabrest, but had been wise enough not to point it out at the time.

Since then, he’d been finding plenty to keep himself busy. Lacking access to the pythian tree, the lud villagers had rapidly turned to other tasks, principally the rebuilding of the temple spaces to make them more habitable. While Callan had originally assumed this wouldn’t involve much beyond a good dusting, he’d rapidly had his naivety crushed out of him.

The nightmare of restoring millennia old plumbing was already proving more than he could handle alone. Three times already he’d been forced to use his Shape Stone ability to access pipes that had corroded or clogged with the passage of time.

Beyond that, he also had two new priests to initiate, which mostly involved walking them through the mind-numbing exercises he and Xeph had already drilled the first generation through.

Callan was rapidly growing tired of explaining the same two or three tricks. There were only so many times you could shift a pile of rocks before it all blended together.

Luckily, today he was focusing on something new. Unluckily, it was aggravatingly difficult.

You just need to keep trying. Some skills can only be developed with continuous practice and diligence, Xeph lectured. Learning the basics to one of my bounties is easy but lacks variety. Using them beyond the fundamentals requires diligence and a dedicated mind. Or would you rather be like our priests, destined to only wield common tricks and strategies?

Callan ground his teeth. Sometimes it was like his head-mate really could read his mind.

Sighing, he closed his eyes again and tried concentrating. He breathed in and let his senses flow through his entire body. For a moment he thought, perhaps... but no. The ball of glowing light in his center that represented Mountainform remained stubbornly where it was.

He opened his eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense. How am I supposed to manipulate my manifestation before I’ve even summoned it?”

Theoretically, you should be able to do so, but you may be right. Try summoning Mountainform first.

Callan flicked his focus to the ball of light again. Instantly it responded to his command. Chalky white stone oozed from his pores and began to spread across his hands.

Alert: 6% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is now 6%

Nice. That forty percent reduction to Apotheosis is really making a difference.

The coating didn’t stop at his wrists any longer. Now it spread almost all the way to his elbows. When Callan held his hands up, it was like he was wearing the sort of gloves a fancy society lady might wear to the opera.

Well, at least if the society lady happened to be Ronda Rousey. It looked like he had a set of brass knuckles wrapped around his fingers. Or talc knuckles, maybe?

Was this stone actually talc, or was that just a weird naming convention? Callan didn’t know. His only experience with the stone was knowing that people used talcum powder on babies, and honestly, the two might not even be related.

Right. He was getting distracted. He closed his eyes and concentrated again.

With his manifestation activated, he no longer sensed the glowing light in his core. Instead, it was spread throughout his fingertips, with only a trickle extending down into his arms. Callan attempted to seize it the way he did when activating Mountainform but couldn’t figure out exactly how. It was trying to wiggle an appendage he didn’t know he had.

Relaxing again, he let his senses spread out through his body. He felt the ache in his arms from holding them at the ready for so long. The gritty floor beneath his feet. The itch in his nose as he inhaled another nostril-full of dust. He exhaled...

And there it was. For the briefest of seconds, he had it. Without meaning to, he opened his eyes.

The stone covering his arms had shifted a bit. Now it was covering past his elbow, and there was a slight gap just below his wrist where bare skin showed through.

Alert: 1% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is now 7%

Even as he watched, the stone on his skin slid back into place, the two pieces sealing together with a soft hiss.

Excellent, human! Xeph’s voice was a victorious crow. You have taken the first step in the right direction. Now that you know the feeling you are looking for, the next time will be easier.

“I’m still not sure why I even need to learn this,” Callan grumbled. “You said yourself that Mountainform will continue to expand as I increase its power. Why can’t I just wait until it covers all of me?”

Because it may be months, perhaps years, before we gain sufficient followers. I would prefer it if you knew how to cover more important parts of yourself before then. What if you need to protect your chest from an incoming arrow? Or reinforce your feet for a long fall? There are many uses that you can put Mountainform to that do not involve pummeling enemies into submission.

“Well, when you put it like that, I suppose it’s worth the effort,” Callan said. He tried not to dwell on that ‘months or years’ comment. It had already been long enough that his parents had likely given up hope of ever seeing him again.

I do know what I am talking about occasionally, mortal.

“Only occasionally. The rest of the time it’s all conveniently compressed.” He stuck out his tongue. Even knowing the god couldn’t see the gesture didn’t make it any less satisfying. “Oh, hey, when I managed to shift Mountainform a bit I got another message. It looked like it used... one percent of Apotheosis?”

That is not unexpected, Xeph said. Any time you utilize advanced techniques for one of your bounties, there is a cost. In this case, the further you move from the power’s source, the more strain it places on us both.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Can I do more than move it? What about stretching out coverage?”

Also possible, but with similar Apotheosis costs. In addition, the total amount of stone will not change, so you will have to thin coverage in some areas to provide it in others. Everything has a price. It will be up to you in the heat of the moment to decide which costs are worth it.

“Makes sense. Now, what about Shape Stone and Wurmchain? Are there any more advanced tricks I can attempt with either of those?”

Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Callan glanced over his shoulder at the lud man standing behind him, awkwardly shuffling about and self-consciously tugging at a sleeve of his slightly too-large robe.

“You need something, Argas?”

“Sorry, Avatar, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” The lud glanced away with a guilty expression. Callan had honestly been surprised when he’d volunteered to become a priest. Clearly Kivi’s speech had made an impression on him.

Then again, Zavastu’s cult wasn’t hanging over them anymore. Aligning with Xeph didn’t carry the almost-certain death sentence it did a week ago.

The second priest they’d ordained had been an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard named Paeral. If Callan was being honest, he couldn’t really tell the difference between him and Aldis.

“Let me guess: somebody needs help?” Callan groaned as the other man nodded and bowed his head. “Just tell me it’s not a problem with the sewer pipes again.”

“No, avatar, at least, I haven’t heard of any more issues.”

“Good. Because if they break again, I’m putting you on repair duty.” Callan felt a bit of guilty satisfaction seeing the deer in the headlights look the poor guy got at hearing that. “Just think of it as training for your Shape Stone orison.”

“Yes Avatar.”

The man just stood there, waiting on further instructions. Callan sighed inwardly. He was already missing Kivi. Heck, even Shamain’s needling would have been a pleasant change of pace. He made for the doors. “Might as well get moving. You can tell me about it as we walk.”

They left the room and started the long journey back to the main living quarters. This particular training hall wasn’t the same one Callan had found when he first arrived, but rather out near the temple’s furthest edges. Clearing out the rogue golem that still haunted the other hall was one more task on his never-ending list of projects.

“So, what requires Xeph’s attention so badly you had to interrupt our private training session?” he asked as they reached an intersection. Argas squeaked and began stammering apologies again. Callan quickly waved them away with another sigh.

Yeah, he was really missing Shamain about now. Who would have thought such a day would ever occur?

“There are several villagers who have been petitioning to speak with you,” Argas finally said, once he’d gotten his embarrassment under control. “Lynthia is requesting access to the teleportation circle so she can lead a group of hunters out on the plateau and supplement our food supply. Several lud have volunteered for watch duties back in the village, they simply need to be organized into shifts. And Sworv wishes to speak with you about making modifications to the temple structure itself.”

Callan glanced back at him and lud quickly held up his hands. “Not more pipes! Well, I don’t think so, anyway. He asked to meet you in the kitchen.”

“We have a kitchen?” Callan asked.

“As of this morning, it seems, yes.”

“Huh. Not exactly as if any of the food here needs cooking.” They reached another intersection, and he came to a halt, Argas stumbling behind to keep from bumping into him. “Though if we do send hunters out onto the prairie, I guess that would necessitate it, huh?”

“Avatar? Does that mean you wish to authorize the hunting parties?”

“I mean, I guess I don’t have any issue with it.” Callan rubbed his chin and glanced at the priest. “What do you think?”

“You... you want my opinion?” From the look in his eyes, you’d have thought Callan had asked him if he wanted to go to the temple back doors and jump.

“I—I suppose having something other than those biscuits would be nice...” the lud managed after a moment. His face flushed, and he quickly glanced away.

“Good enough. Which direction are we bound for now?”

“Ah, that way, please, Avatar. Just past the room with the large fountain.”

“Hey, I actually know that one.” Callan set off moving again. After a brief pause, he heard Argas following. The expression the lud bore was a conflicted one.

“Thank you for the learning opportunity, Avatar,” he said after a moment.

“Excuse me?”

“I keep forgetting that I am Leadership caste now. I spent so many years as an Etruscian, it is easy to overlook that decisions like this are now one of my duties.”

Callan frowned. “Uh, sure. Whatever.”

He totally hadn’t meant it that way. It had just been an idle question, and now the lud was treating it like Callan had laid down some new doctrine. He gave his head a shake. Inside of it, Xeph chuckled.

Ah, heavy is the brow that bears the crown.

“Since when do you know Shakespeare?” he asked.

I have no idea who or what that is. It was a common enough saying during my reign. A reminder that kings and gods both would be wise not to forget their every word and action carries consequences.

“Yeah, well I’d just as soon avoid anyone making me a king if at all possible. You know what happened to most royalty in my world, Xeph? They died. Often at the hands of their own subjects.”

Hmmph. That’s what happens when you have dynasties that aren’t backed by divine providence.

“I think the number of monarchies on Earth that claimed divine lineage might surprise you.” Callan said with a tight smile.

Perhaps. But were those divinities actually present to provide meaningful support? When Callan didn’t respond, Xeph chuckled again. As I thought. You will find that things work quite differently here in the Outerworld.

“Just don’t ask me to wear any crowns.”

You already wear something better than that. Me.

“Okay, first of all, gross. Second, that’s not—”

“Avatar?” Callan snapped back to attention. He’d forgotten Argas was behind him. “What is ‘Earth’?”

“It’s, ah... You know what? Private avatar-to-god stuff, Argas. You best get used to tuning conversations like this out if you want to make it far in the priesthood.”

“Of course, avatar.” Argas nodded so seriously that Callan almost started laughing. “I’ll endeavor to serve as a positive example.”

They stopped in front of a door just past the fountain room. It looked just like all the other doors in this hallway—or at least, it had before. Now someone had written on the door with crude letters the word ‘KITCHEN’.

What is this? The lud desecrate my very temple! Callan winced as the voice screeched in his ear. He put a hand up and palmed his head several times like he was trying to clear away water.

“Xeph, you realize this place was already well on its way to self-desecration, right? Everything the villagers have done has to be a net improvement.”

Bah. They could at least have asked first.

Inside, several younger lud were working to construct a series of tables out of what looked like several repurposed bed frames and crates. Xeph let out another squawk, but this time Callan ignored him.

Interesting. He hadn’t really thought about it until now, but the rooms in the temple were oddly decorated. Plenty of bedrooms and storage rooms, several libraries and rooms with water for drinking or bathing, but not a single dining space.

At least the lud seemed to be doing their best to correct that deficiency.

A vaguely familiar older lud stood in the center of the chaos, directing the younger workers with all four of his arms. He glanced up, nodded in Callan’s direction, then began making his way over.

“Remember, Avatar,” Argas whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “This one is Daisa caste. You need not speak to him as an equal. Daisa are good for manual labor and not much else.”

“Seems like he’s doing a decent job managing this whole place,” Callan noted. Argas looked over the room with a frown.

“You’re right, Avatar, my apologies for the oversight. I’ll see a Leadership caste brought in immediately to oversee—”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Callan practically growled the words, and Argas snapped his mouth shut immediately. Before either could speak further, the older lud joined them.

“Thank you for honoring my request for an audience so quickly, Avatar. My name is Sworv.” The lud bowed deeply. Something about him tickled Callan’s memory. Finally, it snapped into place.

“You wouldn’t by any chance be related to Paeral, would you?”

The older man looked up in surprise. “That’s correct, avatar. Twins by birth, though not in appearance.”

“But... Paeral is Biiran, isn’t he? Well, I suppose he’s Leadership now, but I mean, before. Right?”

The lud just blinked at him. Finally, it was Argas who replied. “Sworv is Paeral’s younger brother,” as if that explained anything. He turned to the man. “Is that how you managed to get a request for an audience? Paeral should know better than to use his new position for his family’s benefit.”

Callan simply frowned while the two men began to argue. Right. That was what he just didn’t get about the whole caste system. When Shamain had first mentioned it to him, he’d assumed it worked on some sort of hereditary basis, similar to caste systems on Earth.

Clearly there was more to it than that. He made a note to ask Kivi for details when she returned. Now that she was privy to his “secret”, she’d be able to help fill in a few gaps in his knowledge.

Speaking of gaps, Xeph claimed his own lack of knowledge about the lud caste system wasn’t due to his compression. It seemed the custom had started sometime after his exile. So there was little help to be found from that quarter.

“What was it you needed, Sworv?” He asked, breaking in before the argument could grow too heated.

“Ah, yes. As you can see, we are trying to convert this space into a usable kitchen.”

“Yeah, it’s weird that there wasn’t one to begin with. Xeph, did your followers live entirely on those bland cracker biscuit things?”

I hope you’re not expecting me to actually have an answer to that question, mortal.

“The problem is that I worry there isn’t adequate ventilation in here to support a cookfire,” Sworv continued. “Is it possible to have a larger shaft crafted up to the surface?”

“Maybe?” Callan considered the idea. “It might be better to use one of the upper rooms, less stone to go through. Or one near the side of the cliff.”

“Yes, but I worry about the time needed for people to travel to both locations,” the older lud said. “Perhaps building a staircase would be easier? We could prepare the food above and bring it down to be served.”

“Let me review the temple map and figure out what’s best. For now, if you need to do any cooking let’s use the portal. Apparently there’s also a hunting party—”

“Avatar!” A boy he recognized as Ishe burst through the door. He almost knocked over one of the workers attempting to reach Callan’s side. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“Oh joy. Did the sewer pipes clog again?” Callan eyed Argas, and the lud priest paled.

“No, avatar, at least I don’t think so.” The boy clutched his knees and sucked in several deep breaths. At last, he continued. “It’s Racine. She says her daughter has gone missing.”