Jasper nodded. “Vaguely. He founded the empire, well, named after him - Gemliria - and was the primary enemy of Corsythia for millennia.”
Lady Tirra sighed. “In other words, no. Gemlir was not always the enemy of Corsythia. Although the blood of an Atrometos ran in his veins, he was, in fact, a highly skilled general in the Corsythian army. Eventually, he rose to the head of the military, second only to the Emperor in power. And then, he was offered a divine path.”
“I do not know the details of his path, but, in the end, he failed, found unworthy of ascension. Enraged, he sought a secondary source of power and he found it in his Atrometos ancestors. And so, Gemlir ascended on a pile of corpses, forging the cultists’ path.”
Jasper frowned. “That still doesn’t explain what ascension is.”
The Mwyrani ignored him. “And when Gemlir ascended, he rewarded his followers with transformation, creating a new race forged in his image. That is what ascension is. It is to wake up the embers of the Progenitor within yourself, to claim the power of creation, to cross the line from mortal to demigod.”
His mouth fell open. “And I’ve been offered that?”
Booming laughter echoed from the silver-toned sylvan on the throne. “Do not get your hopes up, servant of Kas̆dael. Completing the divine path is only the first step on the path to ascension - there are few indeed who ever come close to completing it. Still,” her mirth subsidized, “that does not mean you should ignore it. Completing even a part of the path will still enhance your power.” A cold smile crossed her lips. “And you’ve found yourself rather lacking in power, haven’t you?”
One of her four hands reached out to him. “Aid me, and I will grant you a step along the way.”
He didn’t take her hand, regarding it suspiciously.“What do you want me to do for you?”
She withdrew her hand, letting it fall back into her lap. “I need you to take a message to another god.”
He blinked. “That’s it? What’s the catch?”
“Arutû will not allow you to easily deliver the message. You will no doubt have to fight your way to him, but if you reach the top of his mountain, I believe he will listen to you.”
Jasper frowned. “How much fighting are we talking about?”
A look of amusement flickered in her eyes. “Does it matter? Consider the fights an extra bonus, fuel on your path to power. All you need to do is reach the top of the mountain and deliver this message.” She held out her hand again, an envelope suddenly appearing in her grasp.
He glanced over to Ihra, who was watching him with an odd expression on her face. “What do you think?” he asked her.
“About what, Jasper?”
He waved towards the goddess. “About her offer?”
“Whose offer? Jasper, you’ve been talking to a pile of bones for the last fifteen minutes.”
He glanced back at the throne, where the Mwyrani waited with an outstretched hand.
“Uh…”
“The little fawn can’t see me.”
He jerked his head up to look at the goddess. “Why not?”
“Arutû and I had….a little disagreement in the past. Really, he overreacted, but he placed a minor curse on me. Now I can’t see my followers, and they can’t see anything but an unmoving skeleton when they look at me.”
“Your followers?” He looked around the empty room.
“Who do you think was singing?”
He scratched his head. “I hadn’t really thought about it. It just seemed like a mystical experience.”
Suddenly his vision changed. The throne before him was old and run down, draped in thick vines that twisted and contorted through the bones of a giant four-armed skeleton. Hundreds of eyes peered back at him from inhuman faces, beings who looked almost as if they had jellyfish on their head, long glowing tendrils hanging down around their shoulders. He only glimpsed them for a moment, before Lady Tirra reappeared.
“Thanks to your divine path, you can see me, but as long as you see me, you can’t see them.” She waved the letter in his face. “Please, take this to Arutû. I’m sure he’ll see reason once you get there.”
After a brief discussion with Ihra, Jasper finally reached up, placing a hand on the envelope, but not removing it from her hand. “One last thing - if I fail, is there a penalty?”
A pained expression crossed her face. “Generally speaking, yes.”
His hand snapped away from the letter. Spinning on his heels, Jasper turned to leave.
“But I will waive it this time - I promise,” she hastily added.
Jasper hesitated, still not taking the letter.
With a sigh, she continued. “I, Tirra Belet-Ani, promise that I will enact no penalty on you or any others if you fail to complete the task, beyond not granting you my blessing.”
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Jasper took the letter. “Just out of curiosity, what would the penalty have been if I failed?”
A cold smile crossed her lips.“You would have joined my followers, of course.”
An image of the jellyfish heads flashed across his mind, and he couldn’t suppress his shudder as he left her throne room.
As they wandered back through the flowered meadows towards the gap in the tree, Ihra pelted him with questions.“What was that all about?Did you see those creatures?What did she look like?”
He just shook his head, refusing to answer. “We’ll talk about it when we leave,” he whispered and, reluctantly, she let it drop.
Their mounts were waiting for them by the door. To his surprise, Dapplegrim and Keresh had been freshly groomed, their saddles cleaned and polished so thoroughly they shined. And there, perched on Dapplegrim’s head was a small grayish bird with dark cobalt wings. A rīmakāl?
A note was tucked into his saddle.
I may not be able to leave my realm, but I see far beyond its borders. Consider this a gesture of goodwill.
Beside the note was a map, showing the path from the forest to the mountain of Arutû. He glanced over it quickly, a sense of relief flooding him when he saw the mountain was quite nearby. At least she’s not sending me halfway across the province.
“Ooo, what a cutie.” Ihra leaned over the little bird, attempting to stroke it on its back. The rīmakāl fluttered out of her grasp, landing on Dapplegrim’s back, where it squawked indignantly at the stranger.
Jasper chuckled. “I don’t think it likes you, Ihra. I guess you’re not Disney princess material.”
Ihra mock-pouted, sticking her tongue out at the bird before she leapt up on Keresh’s back.
“What’s a Disney princess?”
Jasper pulled himself onto Dapplegrim’s back, the little bird fluttering back to the horse’s head, where it kept a cautious eye on him. And Jasper decided to have a little fun.
“You haven’t heard of the fair rulers of the Magic Kingdom? Let me tell you about them.”
A few minutes later, Ihra leaned closer, a hint of doubt in her eyes. “So you’re telling me there’s no male rulers? Only women rule this Magic Kingdom?”
“Well, there’s, uh-“ he paused, his mind going blank. “Um, Hercules and also Prince…Eric, I think? Commander Lightyear and Sheriff Woody, I guess. But the princesses are definitely the stars of the show.”
She shook her head. “What a strange kingdom. I would very much like to go there someday.”
Jasper laughed. “No, Ihra, it’s a magic kingdom.” But behind his laughter, a bit of sorrow lurked. Ihra’s words had, unintentionally, hit home - a home he could never return to.
They followed the map that had been left for them, cutting a path through the enchanted forest. It was an easy ride as the trees were spaced far and wide between. The massive pines blocked the chill winds rushing off the icy mountains, the air pleasantly cool rather than cold.
Despite the relatively short distance, it took them another two days to reach the base of Arutû.
The mountain was taller than those around it, its ice-encrusted peak thrust high into the heavens like the finger of an angry god and, to their surprise, it was not uninhabited.
As they left the shelter of Tirra’s trees, a road emerged from beneath the sea of pine needles, leading toward the base of the mountain. They followed it, arriving quickly at a village.
It was a breathtakingly picturesque scene, the sort of bucolic beauty that practically begged to grace the front of a postcard. The town was nestled against the flanks of the mountain, a river wrapping around a small bulge of flat land, protecting the village on all sides. The golden dome of a temple peaked above the rest of the buildings, its roof gleaming in the warm light of Shamsha, and herds of cattle grazed along the shores closest to them.
“Well, she certainly didn’t mention this.”
The two hesitated, reining their mounts in as they surveyed the town.
“Didn’t she tell you you’d have to do lots of fighting?” Ihra questioned him.
“Yeah…maybe this town is secretly full of bad guys?”
She raised her eyebrows, looking back at the peaceful scene. “Really?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Shall we proceed?”
The two rode forward, and as they neared the town, some of the workers in the field spotted them. One begin running back toward the town, while the other approached Jasper, a wide-brimmed straw hat clutched in his hand.
His eyes widened as he took in Jasper’s red skin, and he bowed deeply. “Greetings, my lord. Have you come to visit the shrine of Arutû?”
Jasper nodded. “I’ve brought a message for Lord Arutû, from Lady Tirra.” The man’s eyes flickered to the forest behind them, neither fear nor enmity in his eyes. “Of course, the goddess Tirra once often communed with our lord. You should talk to the priests in the temple - I already sent my son ahead to let them know of your arrival.”
Jasper flipped a coin at the farmer, “My thanks,” and the man bowed again. “It was nothing, my lord.”
The path led to the banks of the river. The skeleton of an old bridge could still be seen, its stone posts rising up from the water, but it had long since fallen into ruin, and they were forced to ford through the shallow river to reach the other side. As they rode up the main road leading toward the temple, the villagers went about their day, largely ignoring them besides the occasional stolen glance.
But when they reached the golden shrine, a handful of priests were already standing on its steps. Jasper couldn’t help but notice that their robes, made of pure white and emerald green, had been hastily pulled over their everyday clothes, and their long hair tied back in simple buns. One of them stepped forward, bowing again.
“My lord, it is rare for a southern noble to make a pilgrimage to our small shrine. May I ask what your business with the temple is?”
Jasper pulled the envelope out of his bag, waving it in the air. “I bring a message from Lady Tirra.”
The priest’s face grew troubled. “Perhaps you should come inside.”
They were ushered into the heart of the temple. A small garden blossomed in the center of the courtyard, a riot of blues and purples peppered with the occasional white face of daisies. A table was set before the statue of Arutû, laden with food and drink, which the priests led them to.
“Please, have a seat. The food is for all pilgrims to the house of Lord Arutû.”
Tentatively, Jasper sat down across from Ihra, accepting the glass a servant thrust into his hands. A moment later, another filled it with spiced wine, the pungent, fragrant smell filling his nose with an almost irresistible scent. When the priests saw his hesitation, they poured wine from the same pitcher, taking a draught themselves.
“Tell, my lord, what do you know of the relationship between Lady Tirra and Lord Arutû?”
Jasper shrugged, finally taking a sip of the wine. “Absolutely nothing.”
“They were - perhaps are? - lovers. When I was a child, Lady Tirra’s followers often came to our mountain and we played in her forests. But they seem to have had a bit of a falling out - why I do not know - and it has been some time since we’ve received a messenger from Lady Tirra. Do you happen to know what her message says?”
Jasper leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing the priest for a moment, before answering. “I haven’t read it, no, but as I understand Lord Arutû put some kind of a curse on Lady Tirra, which she is hoping he will lift.”
The priest sighed. “That seems….harmless enough, I suppose. You wouldn’t be willing to allow us to read the message by any chance, would you, my lord?”
Jasper waved the sealed envelope before them. “If I haven’t read it, I am certainly not going to allow you to.”
The priest frowned but bowed his head. “Very well. Allow me to convene with my associates for a few moments.”