A rustle of fabric—accompanied by the softest of grunts—announced Kivi’s return. Callan could imagine the lud girl pulling herself over the inner edge of the tower after scaling the stairs. However, he didn’t open his eyes to verify. Instead, he drew in another deep breath and allowed his senses to expand.
Then he saw Kivi.
Or if not saw, at least sensed her. A massive jumble of light against his senses, with Lisson glowing just a short distance away, Paeral’s pinpricks of light beside him. No one else in the tower, but if he allowed his senses to stretch, to go just a little bit further...
The bright jumble moved past him to the edge of the tower. Kivi’s voice spoke up. “Any change below?”
“None, High Priestess,” Paeral answered. “But with these old eyes of mine I can barely make out anything in this half-light. They could be at the base of the tower, or a dozen miles away.”
“They’re still out there,” Callan said, still not bothering to open his eyes. It was straining this new ability of his to the limit, but he could just make out the red lights of the enemy below at the edge of the square.
Four pinpricks, and one massive jumble of red like an angry, glowing snake.
Veritas.
Satisfied, Callan opened his eyes. With a thought, his interface appeared. He scanned down to the last line.
Apotheosis: 18/27.5%
“You think that’ll be enough?” he asked, his voice too soft for anyone to hear.
Anyone except his head-mate, that is.
It will have to be, as you are so fond of saying. Of course, it all highly depends on whatever plans you managed to formulate in the last few minutes.
“I don’t have any plans, Xeph. Kinda of just hoping it’ll all come together in the heat of the moment.”
Then we are truly doomed.
Callan rolled his eyes and climbed unsteadily to his feet. He joined Kivi where she stood alongside the Mayor, looking out into the darkness.
“Learn anything useful from the prisoner?” he asked, squinting to make out Veritas’s last position. Nothing to see, but his other senses told him the avatar was out there. Waiting.
“Oh, loads.” The mayor let out a derisive snort. “Including several delightful new euphemisms that I won’t bother to repeat here. And to think that a mouth that foul once nursed at my breast.”
“Nothing about how Veritas learned we had imprisoned their priests?”
Kivi shook her head. “Nor about where their temple is located. Perhaps she truly does not know, but even if she did, I doubt she would tell us. I saw the look in her eye when I questioned her, and it is one I know well. That was the look of one who cares nothing for what happens to themselves, only about their revenge.”
At this, Callan quirked at eyebrow, but either Kivi couldn’t see it in the dark or chose to ignore it.
“As for what Veritas is planning next, the prisoner was more than willing to speculate,” the mayor said, picking up the thread of the conversation. “I won’t bother repeating any of that, either.”
“That’s okay,” Callan said. “I think we can figure that out ourselves easily enough.”
Yes. If they intended to retreat, they would have done so already. This will either be a protracted siege, or something much shorter than that.
Honestly, Callan couldn’t say which he would prefer. Their food supplies were enough to last a few days, maybe longer if they stretched them, but his patience would give long before his hunger did. And he doubted siege warfare was the other god’s style, anyway.
“So an assault, then.”
That seems likely to me as well.
Callan nodded. If movies had taught him anything, it would likely happen at first light. He turned to the mayor. “We should set people to watch in shifts, try to have as many of them get some rest while they can. That way we’ll be as ready for possible when an attack comes.”
“You really think it’ll come to that? A battle?” The mayor looked pale in the last waning light, but that could have just been Callan’s imagination. “Just remember, I won’t have you killing my folk. Take out Veritas quickly, and we’ll subdue the others if we must—”
“Mayor,” Callan interrupted. “I mean this with all due respect, but fuck that. Veritas is going to be coming for blood after what we did in the temple. If the only way I’m keeping myself and everyone else in this tower safe is by ending one your ‘folk’, then I’m not going to hesitate. You shouldn’t, either.”
The mayor seemed taken aback by his words, struck momentarily speechless. Callan regretted them almost immediately. The woman had to know what was coming, had to realize that there were no good choices. She didn’t need him shoving that fact in her face.
“Do you think anyone actually died in the temple?” Kivi asked, cutting into his introspection. “I never managed to get an accurate count of how many priests were out there before we lost the light.”
Closing his eyes, Callan did a quick headcount again, then nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Veritas would have had six priests—Higarth, plus the five from the basement—and I’m only counting four out there now. So either two are dead, or they’re still buried deep enough in the rubble that they might as well be.”
Seeing the strained look on the mayor’s face, he amended, “But who knows, we might manage to pull a survivor or two out after this is all over.”
“We should hand out the weapons,” Kivi said. “I for one would feel better with something solid to hold, now that I have fully exhausted Xeph’s gifts.”
The mayor didn’t look happy about this but nodded regardless. She turned to the nearby weapon pile.
When Veritas tried their sneak attack during the second trial, they hid dozens of crossbows on various rooftops around the village square. Kivi and the others had destroyed most of them, but six had survived relatively unscathed. These, along with literally hundreds of the blunt-tipped bolts, were now secured here on the top level of the tower.
Also secured in the tower were several improvised weapons, mostly pitchforks and hammers taken from the forge. While not ideal for fighting priests armed with swords, they were better than nothing.
Belinda handed the first crossbow to Kivi, then doled the remainder out to her family. Callan watched as one of Radavan’s daughters took a weapon with shaking hands. He hated getting them involved in this mess, but without the rest of the town’s support, they were short on options.
Soon, everyone except Callan was armed with their available supplies. For his own part, Callan kept Wurmchain activated, and he still had Mountainform covering his arms. He’d sleep with the manifestation active if he had to.
After spending a few minutes watching Kivi explain the workings of the crossbows to the nervous yeth—exactly how she knew, Callan didn’t ask—he turned and descended the inner stairs of the tower.
Where are we going? Xeph asked as Callan hopped from step to step. Below, the inside of the tower was a pit of black nothing.
No, not nothing. Callan knew exactly what awaited them down there.
“Figured I might as well speak with the prisoner, too. Might have better luck.”
Xeph grunted but kept any further opinion to himself. Reaching the bottom, Callan waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
When they did, he noticed the small form curled tight against one wall. As he watched, the form stretched and sat up.
“Callan.” Alyssa’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk.”
The yeth woman let out a small laugh. “You’re wasting your time. Even if I wanted to tell you anything, Veritas isn’t exactly generous with their secrets.”
“I figured.” Dropping down beside her, Callan sat cross-legged. He stared at where Alyssa’s head would be. In the dark he could just barely make out the glint of her eyes.
They were so similar. With other elevated races, Callan could easily see the differences between them, but with the yeth, it was much more difficult. They looked human, other than that weird extra finger of theirs.
“So why did you do it?” he asked.
“What?”
“Why betray your mother? Why go over to Veritas’s side?”
“You know why.” He couldn’t see her, but he could practically hear the frown on Alyssa’s face. “It was a practically decision. Veritas offered me the best chance to—”
“Bullshit.”
Alyssa went silent. Callan continued, “That’s what you’re telling yourself. That’s the justification you used to keep the guilt at bay, but I don’t believe it.”
“I do not feel guilt over my choices. I did what I had to do in order to ensure my survival. Staying in this village is a slow death sentence. Everyone but my mother can see that.”
“And yet...” Callan spread his hands.
Silence filled the space between them. He let it stretch for a few minutes, then sighed. “And here I thought there actually was something between us, Alyssa. That we could at least be honest with each other. Guess I thought wrong.”
He climbed to his feet and made for the stairs. Just as he reached them, Alyssa called out. “Callan, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“I just... I felt so angry at her. All those years she kept me under her thumb. Never allowed me even a tenth of the freedom my brother’s got to experience. Radavan traveled to other villages to negotiate grain prices. Rym got to visit the Southern Reach with my uncle to bring home needed supplies. But I? My mother kept me close, always under watch. Like she knew that I might flee at the first opportunity.”
The woman shifted about in the dark. “When Veritas approached me, it was the first true opportunity I’d ever been given. I was their first priest, did you know that? Their high priestess, in fact. Veritas promised me freedom, but more importantly, they promised me revenge. Nothing else mattered.”
“I can see why you might think that,” Callan said. He moved back towards her. “I’m guessing this was before Xeph and I came along?”
“That’s right. Once Veritas heard about your priests arriving, they made me foreswear my oaths so that I could ingratiate myself better amongst them. If only I had gotten to know you first, I might... but what does it matter now? I made my choice.”
Callan looked at her for a moment. He still had Wurmchain in his hands, so he closed his eyes. Still nothing. No power resided in Alyssa.
He opened his eyes. “You never renewed your oath?”
“Veritas wouldn’t let me.” Alyssa shifted. “Maybe they’re afraid of where my true loyalties lie. As if I haven’t proved which side I belong to at every turn. That won’t change now.”
“It’s not too late, though.” He took another step closer. “You still have a chance to change your mind. Pick the right side.”
Alyssa laughed, but it was a laugh without any real humor behind it. “Do you know why I didn’t tell Veritas about you, Callan?”
“No.” He had been wondering about that, actually. Xeph had a number of theories, but none that really made sense in light of what they’d learned.
“Because I liked you. I almost believed in what you were trying to do here. That earnestness, that honesty that you exuded, it was so infectious... for a time, I thought maybe, just maybe, you might... you might win.”
The yeth woman leaned forward. “That was foolish of me. You should have seen Veritas after they learned of your existence. I thought for certain they would kill me. Luckily, I merely escaped with a few bruises. But I also learned a valuable lesson that day—Veritas may look and sound like a yeth, in the same ways you look and sound like a yeth, but the two of you are as different as night and day. Where you are trusting to a fault, Veritas trusts no one. And they are utterly ruthless. Utterly uncompromising in getting what they want.
“That’s why they’re going to win. That’s why when the cult attacks, they’re going to kill you, your priests, my mother—everyone. All of you in this tower are going to die.”
Callan opened his mouth to respond, but at that same moment Xeph shifted about in his head. Mortal, something is happening outside. I can’t tell what, but the air feels... off.
Frowning at the interruption, Callan closed his eyes, stretching his mind out. Even with the walls of the tower in the way, he should be able to... to...
Huh.
The red glow from Veritas and their followers were still out there, but now they appeared to be creeping steadily closer. What were they doing? Surely even the metal god wasn’t stupid enough to assault the tower in the pitch dark.
He opened his eyes again. “Sorry, Alyssa, I’ve got to.”
Before he was more than three or four steps up, Alyssa called after him again. “Callan, I wasn’t kidding. I want revenge against my mother for how she’s ruled and ruined my life. For that I’ll pay any price. Even Veritas’s.”
Callan didn’t bother looking down. “Goodbye, Alyssa. I’m sorry that you wouldn’t let me save you.”
Then he hurried up as if wolves were chasing after him.
Above, he found the yeth standing idly around, weapons at their sides or leaning against the tower battlements. Radavan’s wife and two of his daughters had lit torches, which they were holding aloft. Callan almost kicked himself for not thinking to craft slots in the walls to place them. A project for later.
“Avatar?” Kivi rose at his appearance. “Is everything alright? Did she tell you—?”
“We might have a problem,” he said, cutting her off and moving to the edge of the tower. Below, all was darkness. Even the houses around the square were barely visible. “Any sign of movement out there?”
“No, Avatar,” Radavan said. “But with no moon tonight, I doubt they would try...”
He trailed off as Callan snatched the torch from his wife’s hands and dropped it over the side. The torch tumbled down, spinning slightly through the air.
As it fell, it illuminated a figure clinging to the side of the tower. A figure wearing the purple robes of a priest.
“Shit. They’re climbing the walls!” he yelled. “Crossbows, now!!!”
Yeth scrambled about, frantically trying to ready their weapons. It was Kivi who stepped forward first, her crossbow aiming into the dark below. “What did you see, Avatar?”
“Right... there?” Callan strained his eyes for movement but couldn’t make anything out. He knew the figure had to still be clinging below, but maybe they had scuttled to the side? Dangit, there could be a half-dozen priests right below his nose and he’d never know it.
“How are they managing this in the dark?” he growled to himself.
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Velak Gaze, most likely, Xeph quipped, his tone making it sound like the answer was obvious. You saw the list of Veritas’s abilities. What else could it be?
“Velak Gaze?” It took Callan a moment to put it together. “Is that like your Dveorgeye power?”
I cannot say for certain, but I would assume so. Velak spend their lives underground in the darkness, so they possess an extrasensory method for navigation. This ability likely emulates it to some degree.
Callan almost slapped at his face, but he didn’t want to waste time looking away. “And you didn’t think it worth mentioning before?”
I assumed you knew. We spoke of an imminent assault mere minutes ago!
“An assault, sure, but not an imminent one! I thought we had until morning! If I’d realized they all had friggin night goggles...” He hissed in frustration.
Hmm. Well, do not blame yourself too much, mortal. Such blunders are common for first-time commanders. Why, I once had an avatar that thought it a good idea to assault an enemy position in the rain, but he neglected to consider—
Further below at the base of the tower, the torch still cast its light about in a small circle. A figure stepped forward, stopping beside it. Their wolf mask rose to regard Callan for a moment. Then Veritas stamped their foot down, and the torch extinguished, plunging the base of the tower into darkness.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” Callan turned. “Another torch, now!”
Lisson handed him a torch, already blazing. Callan cast it over the side. As it fell, it showed not one, but two priests slowly clambering up the side of the tower. The first was only about five feet below them now. Veritas was nowhere to be seen.
“There!” Even as the words left Callan’s mouth, Kivi fired. The higher cultist cried out as the blunted bolt caught them on the shoulder. They spun about, losing their grip, and plummeted into the dark.
Kivi reloaded and fired a second bolt in the other priest’s direction, but there was no shout to confirm a hit. Callan turned back to the others.
“No,” Belinda said, before he could ask. “No more torches, or we’ll be in darkness ourselves before too long.”
“Then what do you expect us to do?” Callan asked, right as a figure clambered over the edge behind the mayor. Weapons glinted in the torchlight as they manifested in the cultist’s hands.
Belinda let out a shriek, but Callan was already there. His stone-encrusted fist caught the cultist in the chest as they raised their weapons, and they stumbled back, almost pitching over the edge. Hands pinwheeled for balance.
Callan kicked, catching them on the shin. With a scream, they tumbled over backwards.
“We can’t let any more up here,” he said, turning to the mayor. “Once Veritas reaches the top, you’re going to get overwhelmed.”
“I don’t know what else we can do about it. Unless you’d rather we just fire blindly and hope for the best.” Belinda’s words were punctuated with another crossbow shot from Kivi, accompanied by a frustrated growl.
Yes, it is unfortunate that we too do not have an ability to see in the dark, Xeph noted. It seems you were rather prophetic in your desire to select Dveorgeye. Should we survive this encounter, I’ll endeavor to factor situations such as this into future counsel.
Callan blinked. “Xeph, you’re a genius!”
I am? Ah, I mean, of course I am. Continue praising me, and tell me of all my superior aspects, human!
Ignoring his head-mate’s further ramblings, Callan closed his eyes. Wurmchain was still in his off-hand, and by his own estimate he thought there was still a good five minutes left on it. Time to take full advantage.
Letting his senses expand, he almost shouted for joy as motes of red light burst to life on the sides of the tower around him. He pointed a finger. “There! Fire there!”
He didn’t open his eyes, but listened as a moment later there was the snap of a bolt firing, followed by a curse and a thump as a cultist took an express trip to the ground.
“There. And there. Two over there.” Callan kept directing the yeth where to fire. While they didn’t always hit a target on the first or even second try, with six crossbows and an almost endless supply of bolts, it didn’t matter. They overwhelmed the cultists with sheer numbers.
Unfortunately, the cultists kept getting back up and climbing. Callan didn’t understand how it was possible. The tower was easily fifty feet tall. A fall from that height would usually be enough to be fatal for a human.
Unfortunately, either such logic didn’t apply to yeth, or the cultists were enhancing themselves somehow. Callan didn’t have an opportunity to ask, as he needed to keep his senses tuned for directing the defenders.
The battle continued. At some point Wurmchain winked out, and Callan wasted several precious seconds resummoning it. When he did, he found a trio of cultists were almost at the top.
“Shit! There, there, and there!” Even as he swung to point at locations, he heard a voice cry out. Opening his eyes, Callan saw Radavan fling his crossbow away, the metal undulating like a live snake. As it fell, the crossbow gave one last twist before snapping in two, rendering it utterly useless even if recovered.
"Fire! Fire!” Of course the cult would use their Shape Metal skill against their stolen weapons. It was a miracle it hadn’t happened before now. Callan closed his eyes again, and the last thing he saw was one of Radavan’s daughters running to his rescue, a pitchfork in hand. An angry scream followed a moment later.
Soon they had repelled the assault, but another followed on its heels, and another. More crossbows snapped, and while pitchforks were used in their place to prod at the cultists below, they were no more immune to Shape Metal’s influence. Slowly, the tide turned to the enemy’s advantage.
Callan had to fight every instinct to join the battle directly. Somewhere out there, Veritas was biding their own time, waiting for the cultists to wear down Callan’s defenses. He had to be ready when the metal god finally struck.
A familiar shout of pain made him open his eyes. At the tower’s edge, Millica struggled, a hammer lying warped and abandoned at her feet, as she struggled with a band of metal attempting to wrap around her throat. Callan surged forward, pulling the metal away and flinging it into the dark.
“Are you okay?” he asked. The woman just sank to her knees, shaking her head silently.
“Come with me, Auntie.” Lisson appeared at her side, and taking Millica’s hand, led her towards the inner stairs. Already Radavan’s wife and two of his daughters had been taken downstairs to treat injuries. Both their weapons and their numbers were growing thin.
This is exactly what Veritas wants, Xeph said, echoing Callan’s own thoughts. Soon, when we are too weak to resist, the true attack will come.
“You don’t call this a true attack?” Callan said, as a cultist pulled themselves over the side of the tower. He instinctively activated Shape Stone.
Alert: 6.25% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 17.95%
The cultist let out a yelp of surprise as part of the tower surged upward, wrapping around their feet. Callan kicked out and was rewarded with a loud snap as the cultist’s right leg twisted at an angle it should never go. They pitched over backwards, dangling limply from the side by their sealed, broken limb.
Not yet it isn’t. Also, be careful how much power you draw upon! Such frivolous use is what Veritas wants.
“It’s not frivolous.” Callan snapped. He closed his eyes, pointing to where another cultist was nearing the top. “Throwing these cultist off is only delaying the inevitable. And at the rate we’re losing weapons, inevitable is going to hit soon.”
Hmmph, fine. Just be mindful of your apotheosis. Veritas is likely waiting for you to push past your limit.
Another shout for help came to Callan’s left. Opening his eyes, he ran to help Radavan, who had a band of metal wrapped around his arm that was pulling tight. It broke after a moment’s effort, but by that time the cultist responsible had slipped away.
More lightning attacks continued. It seemed the cult had abandoned trying to breach the tower and were content to harry them instead. Even with Callan calling locations, more injuries added up.
Soon there were only five of them left protecting the tower—Callan, Kivi, Paeral, Belinda, and Radavan. Only a single crossbow remained.
“Watch out!” Callan shouted as a dagger flew from the dark and cut through Paeral’s sleeve. Even as the lud yelped and dove aside, another followed, burying itself in the older lud’s leg.
Callan activated Shape Stone again, surging the tower outward where he knew the cultist was hiding.
Alert: 6.25% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 21.2%
He’d thought about trying this before, but it was difficult to maneuver his power along the sides without being able to see them.
This time he got lucky. A girl’s scream cut through the air, and when Callan approached the edge, he found either Leshi or Ianthe dangling in the air, her hands sealed inside the stone jutting away from the tower’s edge.
“Hey, how’s it hanging?” he said, grinning. Leshi/Ianthe just glared up at him in silence.
A loud curse behind brought Callan’s attention around. Kivi cast aside her crossbow, which had begun twisting itself into a sort of mobius loop. It disappeared over the edge, crashing against the ground below.
“That was our last crossbow, Avatar.” She glanced about, taking in the sorry state of their supplies. Other than a pitchfork whose metal head was now little more than a misshapen lump, there was nothing. Her eyes found his again. “I will fight with my fists if I have to before I let Veritas take this tower.”
“Maybe I could...” Callan started to activate Shape Stone but stopped as Xeph let out a growl.
Be mindful of your limitations, mortal.
He was right. Callan only had enough apotheosis for one more use of Shape Stone. Even resummoning Wurmchain right now would render him powerless for the next several minutes.
As if the mere thought of it had cursed him, Callan’s Wurmchain chose that moment to dissipate in a cloud of sulphureous smoke. He let out a curse.
Belinda appeared next to him. “I hate to have to put this so bluntly, Avatar, but we’re lost. Our weapons are gone, our numbers are down to a third of what they were. We can’t even hope to hold out for the next hour, let alone until morning. If you’ve got any more bright ideas, now’s the time to share them.”
“If Veritas would just show themself, maybe.” Callan glanced at the dark.
“But they haven’t.” Belinda sighed. “You know I’m the last one to admit defeat, but even our torches are near gone. Won’t be able to even see the enemy in a few minutes. Our fate is in the Cairn’s hands now.”
She cast her gaze skyward. Callan followed it, thinking how convenient it would be for a moon to rise about now. Might not solve all of their problems, but it would sure as heck help.
Then he saw what was above them, and a new idea tickled the back of his mind.
Letting out a dramatic sigh, he deactivated Moutainform, the stone crumbling away from his fingertips. Kivi turned and looked at him in concern. “Avatar?”
“It’s over. Everyone else should go below. You and I can wait here for Veritas.”
“You’re certain, Avatar?” Belinda asked.
“I am. Get down below. It’ll... it’ll be over soon.”
Looking uncertain, the mayor moved towards the inner stairs, followed by her son. Kivi watched Callan in silence.
Mortal, what are you doing?
“You said it yourself earlier, Xeph.” Callan closed his eyes. He couldn’t see the mist anymore, or the cultists presence, but he could hear them now that the fighting had stopped. Slowly clambering their way up the tower’s walls. “Veritas will attack the moment I’m too weak to resist.”
A hand reached over the wall, pulling its owner topside. A cultist. They crouched there at the edge, watching cautiously, but made no move to attack.
He heard another one working their way up behind him, but Callan kept his eyes trained on the front of the tower, where the top of the outer stairs lay.
And there they were. Veritas stepped up out of the dark, their wolf mask leering.
“So, given up at last,” they said. Eyes gleamed in triumph through slits in the mask.
“Yeah, well what can I say? You played a good hand.” Callan scratched at the back of his head. “Only one thing I’m still wondering. How did you know we had your priests captive? That’s the part I can’t figure out.”
From behind their mask, he thought the other avatar was smiling at him. “And unfortunately, you never will. You cost me dearly this day, Avatar Callan, and I intend to collect what I’m owed. When I’m done with you and your followers, I’ll—”
Alert: 6.25% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 26.35%
Veritas never got a chance to finish. With a groan, the supports above Callan’s head melted away. The town weathervane tilted to one side, then toppled forward.
Directly onto Veritas.
The other avatar had only enough time for a surprised scream before the weathervane’s arrow pierced their mask, cutting through it like butter. The rest of the stone artwork followed, and both it and Veritas disappeared over the tower’s edge.
There was a loud crunch as they hit the ground. Then silence.
Callan stared. He couldn’t believe that had actually worked. Without being able to look at what he was doing, he hadn’t known which direction the weathervane would actually go, and while he’d tried to encourage it towards the other avatar, in the end it had all come down to luck.
Hopefully he hadn’t used up all of his for the rest of time with that little stunt.
Turning, he found Kivi staring wide-eyed at where the other avatar had been. “It’s okay, High Priestess. It’s over. Even Veritas couldn’t survive that.”
“I—of course, Avatar. I was just surprised, is all.” She glanced at him. “You have a habit of not informing me of your plans. I worry that one day it might lead to trouble.”
“Maybe one day, but not today, luckily.” He grinned at her.
Human. Xeph’s voice broke into Callan’s revelry. We have a problem.
Callan glanced at the remaining cultist to his left. They still hadn’t moved. He turned towards the one behind him. “What is it, Xeph?”
That wasn’t Veritas.
Before Callan could finish his turn, something struck him. A piece of metal wrapped around his arms, pulling them tight. Another flowed over his fingers, trapping them.
“What—?” Kivi let out a surprised shout as the cultist hovering nearby launched forward and tackled her. They rolled away, dangerously near the tower’s edge.
Callan couldn’t spare much concern for her, though, as he was too focused on the figure rising behind him.
Another wolf-headed cultist, wearing rune-covered bracelets around each wrist.
Veritas.
“Poor Higarth,” they said, striding calmly around the tower’s edge. From inside below came several surprised shouts. Callan couldn’t blame Belinda and the others. He was pretty damn surprised, too. “My high priest knew that this was likely a trap, yet he still volunteered to pose as me. And a good thing he did. Unfortunate, but I’ll have a new high priest by morning. As for you...”
A pair of swords appeared in the avatar’s hands. “You won’t be surviving to see sunrise.”
Desperately, Callan strained against his bindings, but he simply didn’t have the strength, or Brawn, or willpower, or whatever to break free. Xeph was yelling inside his head, but he could barely hear it over the rushing beat of his own heart. Step by step, Veritas advanced on him.
Dammit, they’re too tight! I can’t even flex my fingers. If he could just activate Shape Stone, he could slow Veritas long enough to... what? Think, think!
No. There was only one choice left.
“Sorry, Xeph,” he whispered.
What? Why?
Alert: 6.25% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 32.6%
Apotheosis has exceeded current threshold. Five minutes until quarantine protocols engaged.
All along his arms, stone rose to the surface, pressing the metal away from him by minute degrees. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Callan balled his hands into fists and strained.
“Goodbye, Avatar Callan.” Veritas swung their blade down. They met Callan’s arms and slid to the sides. The avatar’s eyes went wide in shock.
Heaving again, the metal around his arms snapped. Callan launched forward, grabbing Veritas by the wrists. The blades clattered to the ground, puffing away into mist.
For a brief second, Callan had the upper hand, shoving Veritas towards the tower’s edge. Then the world spun, and he found himself on his back, the other avatar looming over him. His hands were pinned above his head.
“I planned to make it quick,” Veritas growled. His voice modulated up and down rapidly. “But now I don’t think I will. Crushing your neck would be a mercy. I’ll make sure you die one gasping breath at a time!”
A hand closed around Callan’s throat. Stars filled his vision as Veritas squeezed.
What can I do? It was difficult to think as air rapidly fled his brain. He tugged at his hands, but they were currently sealed together in Veritas’s iron grip. Too close to hit with a stone or use Wurmchain. Can I move my hands enough for Shape Stone? I... I don’t...
“Callan!” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lisson’s head appear over the edge of the inner tower. The boy’s eyes widened at the sight of Veritas crushing the life out of him. The boy raised his arm and threw something in their direction.
The object struck Veritas right in the snout—not somewhere likely to cause damage, but enough that the avatar snapped their head back in surprise. Callan saw the hilt of the stone knife poking out from the mask.
His right hand slipped free of Veritas’s grip. It seized the blade and pulled back.
Veritas’s eyes went wide as Callan drove the knife towards their neck. The hand squeezing the life from him released. It caught the stone knife with its palm, the weapon sinking through and bursting from the other side. Veritas bellowed in pain.
Callan growled and strained harder, trying to push the knife further. Just two inches from Veritas’s throat... an inch...
“Stop!”
At first Callan ignored the shout, but at movement from the stairs he twisted to look. Veritas did as well. The knife hovered a half inch from their throat but drew no closer.
Belinda stumbled up the stairs and almost fell over. Behind her came Alyssa, holding one of her forge hammers. She glared downward at her mother. “Release the avatar, Callan, or the mayor dies.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Belinda shouted. She didn’t sound entirely certain about that.
Callan, however, had no doubt in his mind. He’d seen the look in Alyssa’s eye, had heard her words earlier. There was a deep bruise blossoming on Belinda’s cheek already. Even as he watched, Alyssa raised the hammer to strike again.
With a grunt of effort, Callan pulled the knife back, blood coursing down his chest as it left Veritas’s hand with a wet sucking noise. They hissed in pain and leapt to their feet.
“Good.” Alyssa looked from one to the next. “Now here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to take your priests and leave, Callan. This is over. You’ve lost.”
Callan sat up. “People keep saying that. I’m not sure you all know what the word means.”
Is now really the time for humor, mortal? Xeph groused. Callan ignored him, keeping his eyes locked on Alyssa.
“Don’t do this, Alyssa. Whatever you’re planning, just... don’t.”
“I told you before, Callan. I wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of my revenge.” Turning to Veritas, Alyssa seemed to deflate, then rallied herself. “Promise me Callan and their priests can go free. Then the town is yours.”
Veritas shook their head. “You know I can’t do that. Several of my priests are dead by this one’s hand. Retribution must be paid.”
“I don’t care. I want this to be over. My mother is beaten, and this town will fall in line without her influence. You’ve gotten what you wanted, don’t you see that?”
“All I see is an avatar that hasn’t learned their lesson,” Veritas said, looking at Callan. “If I let them go, they’ll only return.”
“But what it—”
Alyssa never got a chance to finish. At her feet, Belinda rose up. “Beaten, am I? We’ll see about that!”
She lunged forward. Alyssa yelped in surprise and swung the hammer down. It hit Belinda’s shoulder with a sickening crunch. The old woman cried out and, whether intentionally or not, shoved her daughter away.
For a moment, Alyssa hovered at the tower’s edge, arms flailing to keep herself upright. Her eyes met Callan’s, and something unspoken passed between them.
Then she dropped out of sight and was gone.
Clambering to his feet, Callan turned to regard Veritas. He raised the knife and beckoned them closer.
Veritas looked at him. Several sparks leapt from the broken snout of their mask. They glanced down at their bleeding hand.
Then they turned and leapt from the tower.
Callan rushed to the edge. He strained into the darkness, trying to see where the other avatar had gone. Nothing. Closing his eyes, he started to summon Wurmchain, only to stop.
What was the point? Veritas was gone.
In the distance, over the dark horizon, a silver light pierced the sky. Callan glanced at it in confusion, several moments passing before he realized it was a moon.
The sentinel, Xeph noted. An auspicious sign. The sentinel is a protector of the just, a watcher of the downtrodden. Seeing it rise after a battle is always considered proof of the victor’s righteousness.
“I’m not so sure about that last part,” Callan said, turning. Behind him, Kivi had finished subduing the last cultist, and was currently squatting on their chest, holding them in place. She glanced at Callan and nodded.
Moving slowly, Callan made his way around the tower to where Belinda still crouched. She didn’t react to his approach, just continued staring ahead at nothing.
Leaning past her, Callan glanced down. Already the moonlight had begun to bring the village below into pale relief. At the base of the tower, he could just make out the crumpled form of Alyssa. Her hammer lay beside her, broken.
Well, it appears that not all of Veritas’s followers can land without injury, Xeph noted. Callan winced at the words.
“Dammit Xeph, read the friggin room, would you?”