On Kivi’s advice, they waited until nightfall before approaching Aos. The high priestess explained her reasoning as they all sat together in a small hollow just on the far side of the rise.

“When Silfia and I approached the first time, we were an oddity, but little more than that. Now, should the wrong people see me returning so soon to the village, and with additional members, it will be noteworthy enough to remark upon.”

“Makes sense to me,” Callan said, nodding. “I don’t want to draw the wrong kind of attention before we need to. And especially not before we know exactly how strong this threat is.”

“Indeed. Which is why we shall first make for the home of Belinda, Aos’s mayor. She was quite helpful in advising us as to the situation last time and should be able to tell us if there have been any developments since.”

“How exactly was she helpful? She literally couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell you anything useful.”

Kivi pursed her lips. “That is a complicated question, Avatar. There is more going on in this community than just the current threat. I’m certain once you have spoken with Belinda, all will be made clear.”

Somehow, I doubt that, Xeph grumbled. Unless much has changed, yeth are likely as guileful and intrigant as ever. There was a common saying amongst my fellow deities during ancient times: a yeth without schemes is like a dress without seams.

“You gods really like your rhyming couplets, don’t you?” Callan said, smirking. While he’d expected Kivi and the others to have some racial biases against the yeth, it was kind of surprising hearing it from Xeph.

It is an excellent form of entertainment. But that does not make the sentiment wrong.

He shook his head and turned his attention back to Kivi. “How soon until we leave?”

“Another half hour, perhaps.” She glanced up at the sky. “Certainly no more than that.”

“In that case, I’m going to get in a bit more practice with Xeph.”

“As you wish, Avatar. Just don’t wander so far that we cannot hear you call for help.”

Callan grinned at the lud girl as he stood. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around, High Priestess? Pretty sure I’m more than a match for any of the local wildlife.”

“Oh? I seem to recall that it was only thanks to my rapid intervention that matters with the dvorak didn’t go worse for us all.” The girl grinned at him maliciously. “Or am I remembering that battle incorrectly?”

“What are you talking about? Pretty sure I bested that bastard single-handedly.”

“Of course, Avatar. Keep telling yourself that.”

Callan chuckled as he moved a little further into the woods. Not too far, just until he found a decent-sized clearing. He needed to be able to hear if Kivi called for help, after all.

He and Xeph spent the next half hour or so working through his orison manipulation. First moving the spike on his weapon, a feat that was now—Callan didn’t want to say ‘easy’, but certainly less cumbersome than before—and then on to more practice with changing the weapon’s length.

Here his progress ground to a halt. Everything he thought he’d learned fell to pieces the moment he focused on the energies outside his own body.

Just breathe mortal. Just. Breathe. You may not realize it, but you are making progress. Already your reading of the flows of power around you is growing more defined. Soon you will be able to separate out these flows more easily without my assistance, and after that, picking out the individual strands that represent our orison will be a simple matter.

“If you say so. It still just looks like a bunch of random chaos to me.”

Ah, but that is because you are simply seeing the forest for the trees.

Callan grinned. “Well, yeah. We are in the middle of the woods right now.”

Not a literal forest, human! Hmmph. Sometimes I wonder if you even truly wish to master these skills I’m attempting to teach you.

“I do, promise. It’s just... tedious, I guess. I’d much rather deal with something simple, like collecting and applying more faith.”

Of course you would, Xeph said with a snort. But those are only the foundational blocks on which an Avatar’s power is built. It is the same with the way my power can enhance your speed and strength. Simply relying on my gifts will not guarantee you victory against our enemies. You must also train your body, so that it is all the better equipped to take advantage of these enhancements. So too must you do so with your mind.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to keep giving me the same sales pitch. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

It’s not about trying harder, mortal, you just need to try. Constant practice is the key to improvement, not attempting to cram more effort into a small amount of time.

“But I want to skip to the damn training montage already,” Callan muttered. He reached out for the waving lines of power about him that represented Wurmchain, but once again they wriggled out of his grasp. With a sigh, he opened his eyes.

From within the bushes on the far side of the clearing, he distinctly saw a pair of green eyes staring back at him.

He froze. The eyes watching him drew wide with shock. Then they disappeared, followed by the sound of something crashing hurriedly away through the underbrush.

“Huh. Did you see that, too?”

I see everything that you see, mortal. Likely with more acuity as well. Whoever that was, they were not particularly tall. I do not believe it was one of the lud, however.

“Yeah, kind of figured that already, unless Sworv is secretly some sort of closet voyeur.” Plus, this close to the yeth community, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where the culprit likely originated. “Do you think we need to be worried about that? Might be a spy for the cult.”

Hmm. Possibly. But I doubt it.

Callan did as well, though if pressed he couldn’t have said exactly why. The whole interaction just didn’t have the right feel to it.

Still, whoever it was had seen him training with Wurmchain. If they didn’t know he was an avatar already, they’d put it together quick enough. Maybe he should go after them...

“Avatar? It is time.” Kivi’s voice drifted from behind him, and he turned to find the lud girl watching him curiously. She tilted her head back and met his eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He glanced over his shoulder again, then shook his head. The watcher, whoever they were, was long gone by now. Likely it had just been some farmhand who wandered too far into the forest to take a leak. There was no need to see a conspiracy under every root and rock.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

He followed the priestess back to Paeral and Sworv. Once there, Kivi turned and addressed them all.

“We make first for the home of the town mayor. She’ll be who we negotiate with, and who will help us to sway the rest of the village to worship Xeph-Zul-Karatl. I would ask all of you to trust my lead and allow me to handle the majority of the conversation.”

The two older lud nodded, as if they hadn’t expected anything less, but Callan frowned. He knew he wasn’t the most experienced when it came to recruiting and had mostly made it thus far through a combination of luck and generosity, but that didn’t mean he was totally useless. With Xeph to guide him, surely he could offer at least some convincing arguments.

Still, he’d trust the high priestess to know what she was doing until proven otherwise.

Kivi must have sensed his thoughts, as she gave him a reassuring smile. “I do, of course, welcome the Avatar’s assistance in the negotiations, but as I have already had dealings with Aos’s mayor, I know best what to expect from her. Once the avatar has a better understanding of the politics at play here, I’m certain your skills and charm will prove more than sufficient.”

Callan snorted at that. “You don’t have to butter me up, High Priestess. I know I’m only here so we can make a visual demonstration of the security Xeph can provide. Mobile meatsack temple, that’s me.”

What a... thrilling mental image. If only I had the capacity to vomit. Oh wait.

“Hey, don’t you dare. I just finished cleaning up after the last time.”

Kivi waited until his attention returned to her, then shook her head. “You are more than just the powers you wield, Avatar. Besides, I would prefer to not reveal those powers until absolutely necessary. The longer no one realizes you are an avatar, the safer you shall remain.”

Callan thought back guiltily to the eyes watching him from the forest and said nothing. With the conversation at a close, Kivi led him and the others towards the top of the rise again, and from there down into the fields, where shadows were already beginning to stretch as the sun slipped from sight.

The immediate area appeared empty. Though now that Callan thought about it, he hadn’t seen anyone out working in the fields earlier, either. Was the cult at fault?

He didn’t want to risk drawing attention by speaking to Kivi or Xeph, and neither was likely to have answers, anyway. Still, the closer they drew to the village, the more uncomfortable he became.

It was the same aura that had settled over Tok. Too quiet. Like the whole place was holding its breath, waiting.

They skirted around the outer buildings at Aos’s edge, where Callan could see what looked like an actual main street running through the town. The buildings were wooden—or pythian bark, perhaps—and were painted in a variety of patterns. The overall design actually reminded him a bit of Leavenworth, a German-inspired tourist town in the mountains north of Seattle. Every year his parents had taken him up there for the Winter Karneval, and they’d spent a glorious weekend taking in the lights, exploring the shops, and taking a horse-drawn sled ride through the mountains.

He hadn’t gotten a chance to go this year because of all his doctor visits and his parents needing to work long hours. The trip’s absence had barely registered at the time, but now, seeing Aos, it hit him like a sledgehammer. Would he ever get a chance to visit there again? Would he ever see his parents? What were they doing right now? Were they still looking for him, or had they long since abandoned hope?

Brooding thoughts like that consumed his thoughts as they moved to the far side of the village and approached a large two-story stone house.

Kivi glanced backwards before knocking on the door. Her eyes found Paeral and Sworv. “Remember, these may be yeth, but we are still their guests. Treat everyone here you meet like you would Leadership unless I tell you otherwise.”

“Of course, Priestess.” Paeral glanced at Callan and gave a conspiratorial grin. “It must be a good feeling to know you’ll be back amongst your own people for a time, eh, Avatar?”

“Ah...” Before Callan could think of anything further to add, Kivi rapped on the door. Immediately, there was the sound of hurried footsteps approaching, and something heavy sliding away. A bar, perhaps?

The door opened a crack, a lone eyeball peering at them suspiciously. It was the same green color as the one he’d seen in the forest, though the face attached to this eye was much too tall to have been his watcher.

“I told you not to bother me unless—” The voice coming through the crack paused, taking in the sight of Callan and the three lud. “Oh! It’s you. I thought—well, never mind that. Best come in, quick.”

The door closed again. There were more scraping sounds, and the door reopened, all the way this time.

Standing at the threshold was an older woman. She looked to be in her late sixties, with a shock of white hair that reached nearly to her hips, a face showing just the hint of wrinkles, and a pair of piercing green eyes. Callan braced himself.

After everything Kivi and Xeph had hinted about the yeth, Callan wasn’t certain what to expect. While he doubted she’d be as cunning and emotionless as the others seemed to think, he was admittedly wary.

The woman’s eyes traveled over the others before finding Callan. Her lips pulled back into a grin.

“Cairn preserve us, the lud girl spoke true! When she said that a yeth led their cult, I honestly didn’t quite believe her. Glad to see there are still a few surprises left in the world for an old woman like myself.”

She held out a hand, and Callan shook it, finding her grip firm and rather animated. He also noted the additional finger that hand bore, making it slightly too wide to be normal. If the mayor noticed his own lacking digit, she made no comment.

“Name’s Belinda, though I imagine the lud already filled you in on that detail. Well, come in, come in! We have much to talk about. Ah, but where are my manners? Best get some water boiling for tea!”

She turned and disappeared inside. Callan frowned, not entirely sure what to make the situation. On the one hand, Belinda seemed far more friendly and, well, human than he’d been expecting. On the other, she’d been almost dismissive of Kivi, and hadn’t acknowledged either of the brothers at all.

“Might as well get this over with,” he grumbled, trudging further in. Kivi and Sworv followed on his heels, while Paeral closed the door and settled all of the supplies next to it.

Down a short hallway, he found a comfortable kitchen, the table and chairs made of unpainted wood, though someone with a moderate amount of skill had carved them all to bear the same decorative patterns as the houses outside. From a nearby stove, Belinda waved a hand at them.

“Take a seat wherever you like. I’ll just be moment getting the kettle started. Then I’ll need to inform the others—Ah, there you are, Alyssa!”

Callan turned and found a woman standing next to him. She looked to be in her late twenties, and had the same green eyes as Belinda, though her hair was a much softer blonde color. She blinked, taking in the scene, and finally settling her gaze on Callan.

“Guests, mother?”

“Yes, yes. This is the avatar I told you about, and his accompanying priests. Go, fetch your brother. He’ll want to be part of this conversation, I expect.”

The young woman nodded, though Belinda had already turned back to the stove and couldn’t see, then slipped into the hallway. Callan returned his attention to the kitchen, finding a seat and sinking into it.

Ah, chairs. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed chairs.

“What sort of tea would you like?” Belinda asked, as the kettle began to steam.

“Whatever you have will be fine, Mayor,” Kivi told her. The two brothers nodded as well. Belinda’s gaze turned towards Callan.

“I don’t know. What are my options?”

A mischievous grin played across the woman’s face. “Let’s see, I’ve got... black tea. And black tea. And more black tea, too. Oh! And a little bit of black.”

Callan rolled his eyes. “Why’d you even bother asking, then?”

“I’ve got to be polite, don’t I?” The woman let out a cackle that reminded him far too much of Shamain. Was this just how old ladies acted in the Outerworld? “Besides, other than lack of variety, it’s still good tea. Cost me a pretty talon from the trading post, let me tell you.”

“Well in that case, I’ll have a cup.”

“Good, good.” The woman turned back to the stove and began pouring water into a quartet of cups. That done, she began distributing them around the table.

The sight helped mollify Callan’s worries. At least she seemed a bit more amicable towards his companions now.

“Mayor Belinda,” Kivi said, taking her cup for herself. “You may recall from when we last spoke, but—”

“Now, now. Best wait to discuss business until my children return. Else you’ll just have to say everything twice.” The yeth woman pulled a chair up to the table and dropped into it. Her eyes roved over the guests. “That said, I see you’ve returned with a rather different group this time. Where’s the trader woman? I was hoping she might bring along some of those lovely textiles your kind are so good at making.”

“Silfia was needed elsewhere. And unfortunately, we do not have much pythian product to spare at the moment. Much was lost during the battle with Zavastu’s cult.”

“Hmmph. Pity.” The mayor leaned back and shook her head. “Well, I do hope you’ll remember our little village once your supply lines are restored. I’d given up wearing anything but wool after your village was seized. Continually having my hopes restored and then dashed again is fraying my delicate nerves to pieces.”

Callan, who suspected any textiles the lud produced would be going to pay the dveorg for some time to come, said nothing. Still, Belinda made an interesting point. Trade was another way to ingratiate themselves with those living on the other plateaus.

The sound of the front door opening cut off further conversation. They all turned to see Alyssa return with a man so similar to her in appearance it had to be her brother. The man’s gaze swept the room, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of them sitting there.

“Ah, Radavan, so good of you to finally join us. Pull up a seat. The young lad here—”

“Mother, I thought we had talked about this already.” Radavan turned towards Callan. “You are not wanted here. Leave, now.”