Temple Day. It was remarkable how quiet the camp seemed when I awoke the next morning to clean up and get ready for the day. Less than a dozen people mingled around in the open, and only one or two were training. Even those practicing their skills wore the uniforms of followers of Shigeru, indicating that their training had a religious aspect to it. I assumed they were practicing battle dances, the martial tribute that Shigeru’s followers had created to honor his strength and guidance.

“Always quiet on Temple Day,” Gogo’s voice said softly beside me. Whether out of respect for the Divines or because she no longer had to raise her voice to be heard, the general volume of her words was exceptionally quiet. “Are you planning on paying tribute today?”

“Everyone pays tribute on Temple Day,” I said automatically. “Why would I be any different?”

Gogo glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, a grin curling across her face. “Well, I’ve barely heard you mention any of them, and you don’t wear a pendant.”

“I could be a quiet follower,” I replied, not making eye contact. “There are some that follow the teachings of a Divine without making a show of it.”

“Are you?”

I thought about how best to reply for a moment. I couldn’t just say that I didn’t exist in the world before the last Temple Day, so I’d had no way to pray to them. Every person in the world of Ahya lived within one of the many domains that the gods served. And if a new domain were to appear, it wouldn’t be long before a Divine rose to fill the gap. Truth be told, I’d already decided that having a Divine’s influence in my life on Ahya would be a benefit. The question wasn’t whether I would, it was who to follow. Each Divine was powerful in their own right. Some ranked higher than others, but the ultimate choice was in what aspects of life you wanted help and guidance.

I was a warrior by design. Even before arriving in Ahya, I’d liked fighting. But I also had a quick mind, suited for magic. There wasn’t a god that covered that complex hybrid. For the fighting aspect, Shigeru Tokugawa was a clear choice. He was the God of War and Peace, and the strongest of the combat Divines. For magic, Arcana was the clear choice. There were other deities that covered the many domains of magic, but he was the highest. He governed over knowledge and magic itself. No specialty or preference, just raw knowledge.

“I never saw a need to pay tribute before,” I finally replied, answering Gogo’s question. “I’m not a follower, quiet or otherwise. But I’m starting to think that following a Divine would suit me well.”

“I figured as much,” Gogo laughed. “You didn’t strike me as a religious type, but I’ve never met someone like you that didn’t align with at least one deity. Would you like to accompany me to the altars to pay tribute?”

“They have an area designated for that here?” I asked, surprised. I’d never written out a clearly defined place for the Wild Mages to pay tribute. It was far from a capital or nerve point of civilization.

“An altar can be found in many places,” Gogo said, assuming a mystic air. “They don’t feature all gods here like in Milagre, but the main deities are represented. New altars are added whenever a follower arrives.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Miel told me.”

I nodded my understanding, then gave a shrug. “Sure, I’ll go with you. I’m guessing you’re paying tribute to Grimr?”

It was an easy guess. Not only was Gogo a Beast-Kin, their special magic was also natural in design. And Gogo was already nodding. “Well, I will pay tribute to Grimr, but I’m also on the lookout for another deity, a recent ascension. They don’t have many followers yet.”

That piqued my interest at once. I’d recently added a few new Divines to the world. “What’s their name?”

Gogo shrugged. “No clue. I just heard that there’s a new kuguluhan.”

Ah. She was talking about Dexter. The new God of Chaos. Except that they weren’t a real divine, at least in the literal meaning of the word. They were of the same power level, but they had amassed the power from gaining control of an old weapon steeped in chaos. So while they didn’t have a divine enchantment, they were a god.

“That’s the one that took Bora Bora’s weapon when he fell,” I commented without thinking.

Gogo whipped around to stare at me, stopping in their tracks. “How did you know that? I haven’t heard any stories of his origin yet.”

I almost cursed at my own stupidity. Trying to control my expression and not let my small moment of panic show, I offered a diffident shrug. “Heard an Acolyte of Arcana say it. It’s nothing more than a rumor right now, but it makes sense. Bora Bora’s weapon wasn’t recovered after he died, right?”

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Bora Bora, the former god of Dragons, Family Bonds, Earthly Pleasures, Chaotic Magic, and Death. A very powerful deity, easily one of the strongest. They’d begun as a D&D character, made by one of my most frequent players. He’d died recently in the world, taken down by a Master Necromancer who’d been furious at the Divine’s ban of the study of necromancy. His weapon, the scythe named Pandemonium, had nearly been as powerful as an Ancient weapon and would have persisted past the end of his life. In fact, it was sentient and had a personality of its own. Its power was more than enough to ascend anyone that touched it. Just like had happened to Dexter.

“I did hear a rumor about the weapon,” Gogo admitted, resuming her pace. “Someone told me that it had gone missing. I didn’t think that it was the source of the new Divine, though.”

I offered another shrug, pretending not to know more. But I remembered every detail of that story clearly. I’d written it on commission, after all. But I had to pretend I wasn’t aware of the secrets of the world if I wanted to pass muster. That made me think of Stormsong. How in the hell did he know who I was? I hadn’t told anyone since my arrival, or even let it slip through a mistake. I wasn’t an idiot, I knew that I had to monitor even my speech so that I didn’t accidentally reveal that I was from another world. There was only one way that he could know, I thought suddenly. There were only three beings that knew I didn’t belong in this world. Ahya, Chaos, and Corruption. Ahya wouldn’t tell a random mortal who I was…

As if on cue, I saw Stormsong once we turned a corner. The Wild Mage was standing on the edge of a crowd of people that had gathered around some altars on the eastern end of the camp. They seemed to sense my arrival and looked up, flashing me a knowing grin. I immediately stepped away from Gogo. “Give me a minute, I want to talk to Stormsong about something.”

Gogo waved me away and joined the crowd, leaving me to my own devices. Catching up with Stormsong quickly, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of earshot of anyone else, glaring at him. “We need to talk.”

He seemed completely unsurprised and didn’t fight against my grip as I pulled him away. If anything, he seemed pleased to get right to the point. “I wondered how long it would take you to put it all together.”

I didn’t bother replying until we were out of sight of the crowd. I came to a stop and turned to face him again. “There are only two people who could have told you who I was. Was it Chaos or Corruption?”

Stormsong’s grin widened. “What makes you think it was either of them? I’m almost offended that you don’t think I could have put it together myself.”

I looked him up and down, thinking quickly. I couldn’t detect any Corruption in him. It could have been hidden very well, of course, if he was experienced at hiding or manipulating it. All I could tell was that he hadn’t been consumed by it. Then I stared at his grin again and realized that the answer was obvious. I should have realized it sooner, in fact. The man was an expert at warping chaos into his magic. It wasn’t that far of a leap to think that he might be in contact with the entity responsible for it.

“Chaos told you,” I said, taking a step back and shaking my head. “That bastard.”

“Truth be told,” Stormsong said with a shrug, “I wasn’t aware that it was Chaos. It’s not like mortals get to interact with him often, you know.”

“You can’t share that fact with anyone,” I told him firmly. “I mean it. Keep it a secret between us. Don’t even let yourself think about it, because people could glean the knowledge from your mind.”

“I hadn’t intended to,” he replied. “But for the sake of my curiosity, what would you do if I did release your secret into the world?”

I stared at him in silence, letting my angry glare be the answer. He grinned again. “Ah. You’d kill me, of course.”

“That doesn’t bother you?” I asked. “If you know who and what I am, then you know that I could.”

“Except for one thing. It’s quite clear to me that I am stronger. If I wanted, I could kill you now.”

“Perhaps,” I said, neither agreeing nor denying the fact. I refused to let him gain control of the situation. “But even if you are stronger now, it’s just for now. I would get strong enough and end your life.”

“If you say so, primordial. But you don’t have to worry about me, and you know I mean that. There’s no benefit in it for me.”

“Then how did you find out?” I asked, returning to the original topic. “I know that Chaos told you, but did he approach you randomly, or did you go hunting for the information?”

“I had no idea who you were when I had the dream,” Stormsong said. I could tell he wasn’t lying. “I just had a dream that you would arrive in the camp and become an ally and that I would give you that debt marker.”

“How did that tell you that I was a primordial being, though?”

At that, he laughed. “It might have something to do with the fact that you were glowing with incredible power in the dream.”

I shifted my feet, trying to digest that particular piece of information. I couldn’t say that I’d ever appeared as a glowing being in anyone’s dreams before. The new experience aside, I still had one thing I had to ask. Taking a deep breath, I spoke again. “Why you?”

He only shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea. Maybe because I knew how to use Chaos? Or maybe because out of all the Wild Mages, I was the one that wouldn’t try to make something out of it? I think Chaos is just trying to mess with you. He is a trickster, isn’t he?”

That was certainly true. I’d created him as an interloper and manipulator, who thrived on disrupting the natural disorder of things. Dropping a hint about my true identity to a random person seemed just the thing he’d do. A small movement that caused as much trouble as possible. I let out a long sigh, letting my thoughts slow down a bit. It didn’t seem like I had a reason to distrust anything that Stormsong had told me. In fact, he didn’t seem to care either way. I was just a random encounter for him, even if he was a blip of chaos that freaked me out on an otherwise peaceful day.

“Alright,” I said, after a significant pause. “I believe you. Let’s get back before anyone gets another reason to think something’s up.”