Jasper didn’t head straight back to the manor after meeting with his uncle. Instead, after hauling himself up onto Dapplegrim’s lofty back, he took a little detour. It was time to do something he’d been putting off for a while: meditate.
He circled around the As̆rukkat, marveling once again at the palace’s strange architecture.The colossal, spartan lines, coupled with the blue and white building material made it look like something ripped right from the pages of some sci-fi adventure novel, entirely incongruous with the rest of the world.
Once he reached the far side of the palace, his destination came into view. The carefully manicured forest garden stretched down toward the lake where the ancient shrine squatted in the waves. The sheer number of birds in the park had only risen since last time - Jasper had noticed on his trip back to the capital that the southern plains had been drier before, like some sort of seasonal variation, but the water in this river still flowed freely, providing a fertile band of land that sported a staggering diversity of fauna.
Slipping off his mount, Jasper tied Dapplegrim up at the post and slipped her a few sugar cubes before heading down the path to the shrine. As soon as he stepped foot on the first bridge, the eerie sensation of being watched returned. The birds didn’t even budge as he approached, but their heads swiveled in unison to watch him pass. This time, though, Jasper decided to not just ignore it.
Detouring off the path, he walked straight up to one of the closest birds. It was a squat little thing that reminded him of a duck, aside from its jet-black plumage and a bright blue beak whose upper jaw had little serrations that resembled teeth. The bird didn’t even flinch as he bent down in the mud beside it, and there was a gleam in its eyes that was not quite natural.
“What are you?” He questioned the spirit watching through its eyes. Are they possessed? He reached out and patted the bird on the head. For a second, it didn’t react at all. Then, with a terrified squawk, the bird came to life and its beak clamped down on his fingers. The little bird’s strength was no match for his toughened skin and after a second, it wisely opted for flight instead of fight, flitting off in the direction of the lake as fast as its little wings could flutter. So the spirit in the shrine doesn’t have complete control over them.
Standing up, he brushed the mud off his knees and walked over to one of the bird’s mates. The gleam in its eyes disappeared immediately, and the bird flew off before he could get close. Guess the spirit didn’t like me touching the birds. Shrugging his shoulders, Jasper decided to return to the path. He hastened over the remaining bridges until all that was left was the derelict rope bridge that spanned above the waters from the shore to the shrine. It flopped back and forth in the winds blowing off the lake, and Jasper opted to skip it altogether. Spectral Wings. He soared into the air, landing safely a moment later.
The shrine was unchanged. The weathered white stone offered shelter from the hot winds that sometimes blew off the southern plains, but the side facing the lake was wide open to whatever gusts came down from the cooler north. A cool wind rose to meet him, offering a refreshing respite from the city’s heat, but so too did the silent presence. An almost physical pressure weighed down on him, like the stern glance of a disapproving father. Oops. Guess I annoyed the spirit.
Doing his best to ignore it, he plopped down on the floor and crossed his legs. His eyes closed as he began to meditate. I am the river; I flow around all things. I am-
His meditation was interrupted. Roiled by a particularly large gust of wind, the lake’s waters beat against the open shrine, rushing right over the low threshold and washing over him. They retreated a moment later, leaving him wet and sputtering. Okay, I guess the spirit is very annoyed.
After Jasper wrung the worst of the moisture out of his tunic - being sure to keep a wary eye on the lake for any more rogue waves - he bowed his in defeat. “O spirit of the shrine, forgive me for any offense I may have caused.” He felt ridiculous, the words tasting like chalk in his mouth, but when he sensed an almost immediate decrease in the pressure of the air, he realized that maybe it wasn’t so foolish after all. Bowing his head deeper, he thanked the spirit for its generosity and only then did he try to meditate again.
I am the river- This time, he suffered no impromptu baths. Instead, the world around him slowly slipped away until he opened his eyes in Kas̆dael’s realm.
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Kas̆dael paced up and down the empty halls of S̆uhruru. A knot of tension sat heavy in her belly, one that just wouldn’t go away. Very little was going to plan these days.
Her old apprentice was apparently trying to transcend the bounds of the Progenitor and ascend to true godhood. One of her old enemies, that irritating - and perhaps, slightly intriguing - Sidhe was making overtures of friendship. Her chosen hand was dragging his heels about actually completing her quest.
Kas̆dael sighed. That one, at least, was partially her fault. She had scared him off with the talk of potentially sacrificing himself, and now he was avoiding her. Fortunately, from what she’d gleaned when watching him, he finally had a solid lead. Maybe - just maybe - that problem would resolve itself soon. That is, if he actually got around to doing it. She’d had to haunt the Seraphs’ dreams to prevent them from attacking the cultists without him.
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And then there was her newest problem. The goddess had noticed a sizable uptick in the amount of prayers and sacrifices offered to her over the last few months. For most of her siblings, that would be a source of pride, a strong indicator that one of their priests or priestesses had been particularly devoted to their service.
For Kas̆dael, nine times out of ten that meant some nutcase had founded a new Doomsday cult and adopted her as their patron. In all honesty, she really didn’t mind that much. She was the Goddess of the End, after all. The doomsday cultists were entirely wrong about her, but they still gave her a bad name amongst the common folk. Too many of the cultists weren’t content to simply wait for the end but got it in their head that it would be honoring her to hasten its approach - even over her protests.
She sighed, as memories of the last cult meltdown flooded her mind. Their leader had seemed so reasonable in the beginning. Unlike so many others, he had taught that she didn’t desire the end - true! - and that the Lady of Last Light was tired of the endless cycle of death and rebirth - true again. He’d seemed so reasonable she’d very nearly officially endorsed him as her priest.
But then his mania had revealed itself. He’d started to teach that she would overthrow the cycle - that she would slay the Progenitor and put an end to his madness, establishing a utopian world that would never end. Kas̆dael had intervened at that point, revealing herself directly to him.
It was true, of course, that in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind, she had considered doing exactly that. Kas̆dael was tired of watching the world end, tired of sacrificing herself, tired of always missing out on its rebirth. But she wasn’t quite ready to rebel. Hell, she wasn’t even certain if she actually could. No matter how much the others might believe the Progenitor dead, she always felt as if the faintest vestiges of him lingered even to the end, and she knew not how much power might actually remain in him.
Unfortunately, her would-be prophet had been undeterred by her message. Instead, he brought a new revelation to her followers: the goddess was unchained by the commands of the tyrant Progenitor and it was their duty to free her so that she could establish her world without end.
Sigh. Yet another group of her followers had become a crazy, doomsday cult - one more for the chalkboard. So while her brothers and sisters might be pleased by the uptick in prayers they received, for Kas̆dael it was just another worry to add to her plate.
I need something to distract me.
Suddenly, she felt a familiar tug on her soul, and her boredom fell away. Look at that - my hand has finally decided to make an appearance.
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There was no need to search for the goddess. As Jasper opened his eyes, a dark shadow loomed over him - the dark shadow of a woman with her hands on her hips and a glint of reproach in her eyes. Her long, black hair flowed freely around the wispy veil that covered the lower half of her face, and her hands clutched a familiar pair of dice. “It’s about time you came to visit,” she snapped. “It’s been months. Months, Jasper!”
He blinked, taken aback by the almost petulant note in her voice. “Uh, I’m sorry?” He ventured, halfheartedly.
Kas̆dael shook her head. “No, you’re not.”
It was true. The goddess seemed nice enough, but no matter how many times it happened, he just couldn’t get past his dread of having his heart ripped out. He knew it didn’t actually hurt him, but that didn’t change the fact that it felt like he was actually dying. “I’ve been, uh, busy?”
She narrowed her eyes. “With other people’s quests. Did you even notice you passed the Seraphs’ timeline? They were supposed to raid the cultists’ headquarters weeks ago?”
Jasper froze. He had been so wrapped up in the constant struggle of herding the scouts and S̆addu’â back to the capital that the Seraphs’ offer had completely slipped his mind. “Damn it. I’m sorry, Kas̆dael-“
The frown lines around her eyes melted away at his now genuine apology. “Fortunately for you, they decided to wait on your return. Unlike some people, they actually listen when a goddess speaks.”
He winced. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to get out of it!”
She rolled her eyes, but her demeanor softened. “Look, I realize I may share a small portion of the blame - only a teeny, tiny portion, mind you - but I shouldn’t have suggested the possibility of sacrificing your life unless it was truly necessary.” She reached her hand out to his, but something strange happened.
When her hand was only about a foot away, an opaque bubble popped into place around him, and her fingers bounced off. Kas̆dael paused, her eyes squinting. “What spell is this? I don’t remember this on your class list?”
Jasper’s eyes were wide as he examined the strange barrier suddenly surrounding him. “I didn’t do anything,” he quickly protested.
Concern washed over her. “You didn’t cast this?” She clarified, and he shook his head, holding up his hands to show that the faint blue tattoos lay dim and lifeless. “That should not be - wait!” She stopped speaking and leaned closer to him. “What’s that around your neck? Open your shirt.”
Jasper’s hands flew to his neck, suddenly remembering the torc Barbartu had given him. “Oh, this?” Crap, was Ihra right? He pulled it out from beneath his shirt and let Kas̆dael look at it.
She was silent for a long moment, and as much as Jasper tried to guess what she was thinking, the goddess’ expression was inscrutable. “Who gave that to you?” She finally asked.
“Well, uh, a woman named Barbartu who is, uh, kind of my enemy? I guess?” Jasper fumbled with his words, suddenly feeling like an idiot for wearing the necklace.
But Kas̆dael just shook her head. “This is quite the gift, Jasper - rare and valuable. I don’t think this woman is your enemy.” She held out her hand again, pressing her fingers against the shield. “I need you to grant me permission to touch you. Just think it,” she instructed.
Jasper followed her instructions, and after a moment’s hesitation, the bubble disappeared. Her hand flew forward and grabbed hold of the necklace. Lifting it up, she examined it more closely. “I wonder where she got this,” she murmured to herself.
He stood still as Kas̆dael rolled the torc between her fingers. “So, is it safe to wear this necklace? I asked Tsia to look at it, but she couldn’t sense any enchantment. She said it felt strange, but not sinister.”
The goddess smiled as she let the torc drop. “No, I’m sure she couldn’t. It wouldn’t even register as magic to her. Honestly, that she could sense anything at all is a testament to her talent.” She tapped his chest with her finger. “Tell me about this Barbartu,” she commanded.