Falling Fox [https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ABLVV86gPD_y4_b39wX9gT0yJYLtLJld_cdBMC2R7pCZzAzWin-ZPGlPNdiq4lDgs4q8MQzo4o8hrVFd7djhhVcA7BnaoZ1T3mcFwqtReFUjwZlQMBJTXytPys65Vgr6jqnSFsGuiPkiy6snIYUgIJaRLux5=w621-h931-s-no-gm?authuser=0]
Everin Starlark was never meant to be here. Never meant to be on this backwater tundra with only a single city of any interest and where nothing seemed to grow, not even the people. Never meant to become a pocket healer to a stubborn man whose historical lineage was more terrifying the more he dug into it. Never meant to be a silent shadow to a child who he now believed was being exploited by the gods. Never meant to actually care about this group of unfortunate orphans who repeatedly lost everything they ever held dear.
He was meant to be relaxing on a beautiful beach far far to the southeast, proselytizing to people about the benefits of being free to choose where and how they lived the life they were gifted. Free from the cold. Free from being tied to an unremarkable job. Free from the burdens of responsibility.
Apparently, Fate had other plans for him.
After being talked into becoming a freedom fighter for the local rebellion on that beautiful beach, he found himself quickly taking on responsibility and various jobs with the goal of freeing the people there from the invisible shackles the kingdom held on them.
Then his goddess gave him a quest. Him. An important enough quest that he was raised to the position of Cleric and sent to the other side of the continent.
Find and watch over the Chosen One of Rebel, the Wayfarer: Phoenix Fraser and her party.
What he discovered upon arrival was an absolutely ridiculous scenario where a mere child, who was utterly naive and sheltered her entire life, was being honed into an Adventurer with the weight of an entire nation she had absolutely zero knowledge about placed upon her frail shoulders.
He had never been angry at his goddess before, but the day he first saw Phoenix Fraser and learned about her situation, he had become furious.
Everin had actually gone to the local temple, a rather small affair but that suited him fine, and he verbally tore into his goddess about using an ignorant child as a weapon. Some things just had to be said face to face.
Her reassurance about the child’s immortality did not soothe his anger completely but at least he no longer believed his goddess was trying to get the Wayfarer murdered.
…Until Phoenix actually got murdered. Multiple times. Then he had a completely new set of worries that he felt ill-equipped to handle, despite being classified as a Healer.
He had wondered if he would have been able to puzzle out her talent himself if he hadn’t been so focused on tracking her through the divine beacon her Soul Mark behaved as.
Everin had thought it strange when he saw her go through the portal after her talk with the Noble Ruwena siblings, even stranger when she hadn't returned immediately, but the sudden sense of her portaling to somewhere else within the city had given him enough cause for concern to investigate. What he saw upon his arrival, before Phoenix had finished reviving, still gave him more questions than his goddess would answer.
However, there was only one question that he needed an answer to the most for his situation: how was he meant to “watch over” a woman who couldn't die? Who lived through horrible experiences that nobody should remember? Who kept running and fighting and falling? At this rate, she would hit a breaking point before she ever accomplished a single objective for her divine quest.
There were missing artifacts she was meant to be seeking. Plus, finding her way to Tyrand and its heir, and standing up to its tyrannical Regent. She wasn’t supposed to be burning down half the tundra and lurking in the shadow of her party and mentor.
Instead of the symbol of hope and freedom that he had thought the Chosen One would be, a hero rebelling against an undeserved and corrupt authority, he found a phoenix repeatedly rising from the ashes of death to struggle forward against impossible odds and even beyond them.
And now she wanted him to do the impossible as well.
Despite Phoenix and Paul having one of the strongest bonds he had ever sensed between two people with his rare perception power, it wasn’t the begging of the kits that convinced him to even attempt the impossible. It was the sight of the Paladin quickly rotting away after having given everything to protect not only his kits but the entire city that had once betrayed him. The man who, in the end, chose to sacrifice everything for others.
Everin sent another wave of healing power into the Ruby Caster and prayed. Prayed to the gods for a miracle.
“Let him go, Cleric,” his goddess, Rebel, answered from within his mind, “He is holding the Chosen One back. She needs the freedom to grow without him.”
“No!” he practically growled, “Too many people love this absurdly overpowered and deeply flawed man.”
“You cannot help him. This is as it should be.”
“I can’t just let him die! I swore to protect Phoenix’s wellbeing and to lose her mentor, her father, will break her,” he argued.
“When a bone breaks, it mends stronger. He must fall for her to rise.”
“She’s been broken enough! I have to at least give her hope. Otherwise, the bone won’t just break; it will crumble into dust.”
“Then it will prove she’s not strong enough for the road ahead but I believe you underestimate her resiliency. I will not help you with this. I advise you to let Paul Wayland die.”
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Rebel never gave orders, merely suggestions, requests, or advice. She was very big on making it obvious that the clergy had a choice in everything they decided to do. What wasn’t always made clear was the consequences of their choices should they choose to ignore her.
Now, that’s exactly what he found himself doing as he shouted towards the sky for any other with the power to help, “Mender! Cultivator! Parent or Lover! Hero or even the blasted Avenger! We beseech any and all of you, to grant us a blessing, an item, a bloody miracle even! Anything to save the life of this man!”
He had been tempted to call upon the Purifier even, the god most suited to cleanse Banes like this, but the god would likely be more inclined to smite his Fallen Paladin than save the traitor’s life.
They waited in silence, the snow falling around them the only indication that time hadn’t stopped.
Nothing happened.
Orebela broke the silence within their minds, “Only a few more minutes. Wayland cannot last much longer. His health is getting dangerously low,” the Familiar pointed out as patches of black voidness started appearing on the Paladin’s tan skin.
Everin cast another heal to buy more time but his ability was nowhere near enough to outpace the higher Caste Banes. Then he yelled within his mind and prayed for another deity to answer, “Scholar! I need your help, I know you’re watching and listening to it all and I know you have the answer.”
A brilliant flash of rainbow light filled the space and the next moment a mini-redhead in dark fur-lined robes appeared and he was fairly certain the little girl was a child representation of Phoenix as the goddess spoke a warning, “The answer will likely make Rebel angry. Are you willing to Fall for them?”
That took Everin by surprise. Rebel wasn’t known for causing anyone who left her service willingly to become Fallen. Even if the person ignored her “advice” and chose their own way, they usually weren't labeled an actual enemy of the goddess.
Most of the time, they were either demoted or simply removed from the clergy altogether, no longer gaining the services or whispers that the deity normally offered. If Scholar was certain that he would become a Fallen Cleric, that meant he would need to do something that either went against the goddess’ concept itself or angered her so greatly as to punish him for it.
He looked down once more at the withering Paladin, wondering if this was what the older man felt when he faced becoming one of the Fallen all those years ago. It made him realize one clarifying truth and he spoke it aloud, “Some things are worth Falling for.”
“Then you’ll need Phoenix’s help to have a chance at this,” Scholar said and pointed at the bits of the corpse of the monstrous dragon that hadn’t started breaking down yet as she instructed, “But first you’ll need to loot that thing and then you’ll have to dedicate yourself to me as well.”
The Cleric stood and made his way towards the nearest chunk of flesh, “Can’t share the knowledge without that?” he clarified while looking back. At her firm nod, he gave a sigh. Luckily, there were only a handful of deities that Rebel refused for her clergy to dedicate themselves to while already in her service and Scholar was not one of those.
Becoming a member of multiple clergies wasn’t entirely uncommon but it was an intricate web of divine alliances at times, with certain deities refusing to “share” with others. If it had been the Sovereign asking, instead of Scholar, he would have to refuse or leave Rebel’s clergy to be able to, as those deities were often opposed.
He supposed if Scholar was sure whatever he was about to do would reject him from the clergy anyway then that particular point was rather moot.
The voxen touched a tail to the large corpse of the dragon he had technically assisted in killing by granting Paul his meager Boons and heals, powers that he would only admit were meager when compared to their most recent target.
Everin only got two items from it, aside from a small pile of [Ruby Mana Bits], as his looting ability normally provided the Bits and the occasional fun trinket. The first item was a Spirit Gem of some kind he didn’t recognize but the second item made him instantly recoil from the sight of it on the ground in front of him. A glistening black device in the shape of a spindly hand: a [Soul Cage].
The Cleric whirled to stare at the tiny goddess, “You can’t be serious!”
“It is the only thing that will work in time that my domain will allow me to do in this capacity.”
“What is it?” the tear-stained Wayfarer asked.
“I will not turn him into one of those Caged monsters. Death would be a kinder option,” the Emerald Healer told Scholar fervently.
“That is not what should happen,” the goddess replied calmly, “Dedicate yourself to me and I can show you. I don’t want to hold this form outside my sanctuary for much longer without need and this plan will cost much.”
Everin ground his teeth at that, buying a few moments of time to decide by scooping up the Bits along with picking up the Spirit Gem off the ground and calling out, “Hey, Phoenix,” before he tossed it towards the Astromancer once she focused on him.
She easily caught it but raised an eyebrow in confusion as she asked him, “You want me to identify it?”
He shrugged, “Keep it. Consider it Paul’s share,” he clarified, turning back towards the offensive device that was still waiting for him to claim it as he considered his remaining options.
Everin needed to know how this evil contraption could save the Paladin’s life without condemning him at the same time but the goddess seemed to think just telling him in her own magically constructed form would expend too much of her Divine power to be worth it. Or perhaps there was something more at play here.
The Cleric knew the gods were all stingy about how they spent their power. Most would call it frugality but oftentimes he thought them cheap. He wouldn’t be the one to change the entire pantheon on this point, however. He had asked for a miracle, which were rare for a reason, and only one deity answered his pleas.
So he turned to look back towards the goddess instead of picking up the cage and said clearly, “I offer you my devotion and service as…”
He trailed off, unsure what position the goddess wanted him in among her ranks. While he was a Cleric for Rebel that didn’t mean he would automatically be granted that for Scholar. Most likely, he would be an average Priest, with no additional blessing or anything aside from just the whispers granted, but he didn’t want to assume either.
“My Avatar,” she said with a smile.
Everin’s eyebrows disappeared into his silver hairline as he sputtered, “Avatar?!”
That position was incredibly rare and extremely risky to the one who held it. It came with a very particular blessing that allowed the Caster to act as a temporary vessel for a deity, allowing them to interact with the world in a way that was normally not possible for them, bound by their rules of divinity as they were. The risk was that the channeling of Divine power like that was not for the weak of will, potentially losing one’s mind or the power escaping unchecked to burn through the body like a candle tossed into a bonfire.
His soul would need to be strong enough to withstand that kind of force while allowing it to work through him. The fact that it was Scholar, who knew his every thought and those of every Avatar before him, was the only reassurance he had that his soul could bear the strain.
The child-like goddess nodded, and he continued his previous dedication, “I offer you my devotion and service as your Avatar. My hands are your hands. Your words are my words. My life is your life. Your will is my will.”
Another wide grin from the deity as she replied, “I will require no Oathbond but know that I will not answer that which you should not repeat, and not every question will get answered even if one is made. That can be negotiated later though, for now, accept my Blessing and let me work through you.”
Everin nodded, and the next thing he knew, he was being wrapped by tiny arms around his waist in the most painful hug he had ever experienced in his life.