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4.46 Parable
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 22:21:16 +0000 UTCDifference: Minimal
After a brief discussion, they decided that the locals might be able to give them some hints. Even if they probably wouldn’t ask directly, just being pointed in the right direction could save them a lot of time birdsearching. Therefore the group headed back towards the village, actually arriving even sooner than the promised sundown. They did not shroud their approach, thus Silvester was already waiting for them when they reached the ground.
“Anything else I can do for you?” he inclined his head.
“Confirmation,” Elizabeth smiled, then paused, and spoke again after a moment of hesitation. “Though likely best it be out of sight.”
“Right this way then,” Silvester nodded, pointing towards one of the nearby buildings. If he was dubious about their speed, the man did not show it. “The rest of you may return to the hall. My grandmother will be happy to serve you tea.”
And they did, ushering themselves into the same hall they had been in just a few hours prior, though even Irwyn was feeling a bit dubious about whether he would drink. There they found the old lady still sitting there… probably downright rooted in place if Irwyn was understanding what he had seen correctly. So that wasn’t surprising. Rather, they were startled to find Bhaak also seated where Elizabeth had before.
“You lot really are impatient, huh?” the trader gave them a dirty look. “What about ‘a month or so’ did you misinterpret as two days?”
“...” Irwyn, and the rest of them for that matter, stared awkwardly at the retort. That had been their original deal. When they had expected to have more and longer stops along the way. As their plans changed, no one seemed to have picked up on it.
“I can… wait until it’s ready,” Alice offered, visibly embarrassed.
“And break my neatly planned sequence? I think not,” Bhaak scoffed. Then he reached into an inner pocket, withdrawing a capped bottle. It seemed empty at a glance but the shift in Alice’s posture showed it was anything but. “Just so you know, I will be charging you an extra fee in the future for all this crunch. Fitting a whole month into two days without disrupting my schedule was unpleasant.”
“That is it?!” Alice jumped with excitement, everything else instantly forgotten.
“Wait with drinking it,” Bhaak said as he handed it over. “In the meantime, the compass.”
“Here,” Irwyn nodded, passing it to the merchant. That had been their deal for the bandit elimination: A compass that always points towards the Federation. Irwyn already imagined it would come handy in figuring out how far off course the fae had sent them as when they eventually headed back.
“Well, with that said, have fun kids,” Bhaak didn’t even take it out of Irwyn’s hands, merely touching the contraption and immediately pushing it back away. The arm was already swinging to the presumed South. Then the merchant stood up, pretending to stretch. “Free advice, granny, be nice to this lot.”
“Free advice, don’t hamstring yourself either,” the crone spat back with a wheezing laugh. Irwyn had forgotten she was even in the room with them.
“Touche,” Bhaak laughed back. “Thanks for the tea.”
Then the man vanished, leaving Alice and Irwyn staring with their bargained for items still in hand. About ten seconds later, Elizabeth entered together with Silvester. Rather convenient timing. Or rather, Bhaak probably froze time in just a way so that he would not ever be too close to Elizabeth.
“I would expect nothing less of Bhaak’s friends,” Silvester announced theatrically, hands above head. “But I am still impressed but your decisiveness and haste!”
“Funny that,” Waylan laughed.
“Ah, has he already left?” Silvester took a look around the room. “Sometimes he stops by, though those visits tend to be a bit longer.”
“Not today,” Elizabeth walk past him, approaching Alice. “Is that…?”
To that, their Time mage just nodded, her eyes instantly returning to the bottle, which she clung onto intently.
“I have some methods and even tools that can make the consumption safer and more beneficial. I can help you after we are done here. Speaking of, you promised some knowledge about these lands.”
“No tea first?” the crone complained.
“I am sure Waylan will be glad for any distraction about a minute in,” Irwyn assured.
“You are lucky I cannot get to your socks at night.”
“All in the bag,” Irwyn grinned back.
“For now, at least.”
“Right this way,” Silvester beckoned them once they were mostly done bickering.
He led the way behind where the old lady still sat, then pushed aside a fur mat, which revealed a large trapdoor. The mayor struggled with it for a moment, before Elizabeth stepped in and easily lifted the thick wooden pane with one hand. Muttering thanks, their host let them follow him down the revealed staircase. Carved stone, which in itself was strange.
Most of the village was simple wooden construction. Even the central hall was relatively simple from the architectural and material angle. But before them was no rough-cut cave but rather a painstakingly chiseled stairwell. It led several meters deep beneath the ground, where it opened into a hall. Perhaps quarter as wide as the one above and as tall as space allowed.
The construction there was a mix of two materials: More stone and literal tree roots. The wood interwove the carved rock, through walls, ceiling, as well as the floor. At least by the ground the wood was much more level, not creating tripping hazards. Throughout the whole room were placed hundreds upon hundreds of seemingly haphazard knick-knacks from tools to old weapons or even art pieces.
“How did Alice not feel this place?” Elizabeth instantly questioned.
“Huh?” at the mention of her name, their Time mage looked up from lovingly caressing her bottle.
“Some of my predecessors spent decades perfecting the wards here,” Silvester answered before any wits could be gathered. “It is testament to their dedication that they still remain.”
“How do they not fade?” Elizabeth frowned.
“Because of me,” a wheezing cough sounded from the side, startling all of them.
Almost jumping back, Irwyn glanced to the side and noticed the crone’s withered face, carved into wood. It was, in fact, extending out of a root. Even to the mundane eye, the pretence was shed as her expression was carved out of strangely flexible wood.
“Aren’t you quite curious?” Desir did not flinch, instead actually stepping closer. “Were you ever even human?”
“Who knows?” the crone laughed again.
“I could, with a bit of examination.”
“No touching, young man.”
“Our history comes down to one fact, as old as eons,” Silvester ignored the side dialogue and instead led them further into the room. There was a path of sorts in-between the many items. “It long predates our history. Be it a singular event or an original rule, we cannot know. Either way, the corpses of gods appear here.”
“Appear?” Elizabeth questioned.
“Yes, appear,” he confirmed. “In the middle of the day or during the night. In all shapes and sizes, broken divine carcasses will randomly scatter across these lands. You have likely seen one inhabited by the bandits, though most are even less intact and far less monumental. This has been the case as far back as anyone can recall or read.”
“How is this place not wholly overrun with undead?” Irwyn immediately questioned. He had smelled nothing off through his time here. “I don’t know how useful divine flesh would be for necromancy, but my assumption is extremely.”
“I have never seen any,” Silvester shrugged. “I hear they are a problem in many places, but not here.”
“An understatement,” Irwyn scoffed softly. “Any ideas on the how?”
“Or how god corpses just ‘appear’,” Desir frowned. “That cannot be a coincidence, can it? And if it is by design, there is great power at play.”
“I have heard of so called ‘consecrated’ spaces,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “Areas which either reject undead or makes any corpse or soul within progressively less suitable for raising. Or both, which could be the case here. The Ivory Bastion in the Duchy of White is perhaps the most famous of these places… but one the size of a country is difficult to imagine.”
“The Bastion works on preventing everything though, right?” Desir speculated. “So if this area degrades specifically the corpses of gods that get brought here, it would be relatively easier to accomplish.”
“Then why have they never seen any regular Rot?” Irwyn asked.
“To catch them wholly off-guard every few centuries when it’s strategically relevant,” Elizabeth had an answer to that. “I suppose then it is plausible, but not likely. It would still be magic of incredible scale.”
“How is the consecration achieved in the Bastion then?”
“No one really knows,” Elizabeth shook her head. “It predates the Federation and no shollar has been able to figure out most of its inner workings. The assumption is Edicts.”
“What about in other places then?” Desir nodded.
“Either small scale specialized enchantments or dedicated artifacts. For critical missions, the inquisitions has domain wielding specialists that can create a much stronger consecrative effect for a few days at a time.”
“That might be our answer then, artifacts. Remember Johnson’s research,” Desir grinned. “Ambient artifacts, or perhaps divine curses if we want to sound fancier. He had shown in the Republic that this is possible to achieve.”
“How would those be powered though?” Elizabeth pondered. “Not much population in these parts, and they certainly do not worship something they do not even seem aware of.”
“Recycling,” Irwyn realized. “A freshly dead god is brought here and the remnants of their power are absorbed into the curse. Since gods and artifacts are so similar, it should be reasonably possible to create a loop like that.”
“Which still leaves the whole part of teleporting dead gods,” Desir nodded, then frowned. “Not sure if the same principle is applicable.”
“It is not,” Elizabeth nodded. “Teleportations like that would require exponentially more power. Since we have seen gods being close enough to domain mages, I would assume the increased cost of teleportation would also apply. Even if not, moving them just within the borders of this region… the cost would be unreasonable and exponentially increasing due to Finity.”
“That asks the question of range,” Desir chimed in. “How far does this effect stretch. For example… does it touch even the Federation?”
“I don’t know,” she frowned. “The Duchy of Black notoriously has no natural gods. I never researched them in depth.”
“Do you know?” Irwyn turned to Silvester. He and the old crone had been definitely listening to their conversation but had not interrupted.
“I once read a record of a traveler passing through these lands,” the mayor said thoughtfully. “He talked of recognizing a deceased god of his homeland, which was ‘years of arduous travel south, to the endless dunes where the sky reaching mountains. Does that help?”
“That could be just North of the Federation,” Irwyn noted. “It sounds like the mountain range separating us from the rest of the world, doesn’t it?”
“Or somewhere else, but still very far,” Elizabeth nodded. “Which means this still fundamentally breaks Finity. I don’t know what tricks could possibly be at play to allow this. Maybe passing through the Void, but I would have felt a trace of that.”
“No ticks, just the only possible option, right?” Irwyn shook his head. “An Edict.”
“Fuck, you are right,” Desir took a deep breath, reverence suddenly sneaking into the tone.
“But… why?” Elizabeth seemed more confused than awed. “Why here?”
“Maybe it was a whim?” Irwyn guessed. “It seems engineered if we account for the probably ambient artifact. Even if this is in the middle of nowhere. It could have been some great immortals project.”
“Edicts are not proclaimed on a whim,” Elizabeth seemed to shudder at just the thought. “Fundamentally breaking the rules of reality comes with danger. Even in the most controlled conditions, there is a real risk of injury or perishing. I have been taught that one in three Named succumb to the backlash of improperly casting their Edict. So why would one be cast here and not in the Federation where its purpose could be much better safeguarded?”
“That should be obvious,” Desir interjected. “It was cast here because the mage was actually ancient. Not a millennium kind of ancient, but actually predating the Federation itself. It’s been the fulcrum of this Realm for as long as history, but not actually forever. It stands to reason that between the Great Crusade and today there were other great powers and Named.”
“The Federation would also likely know about this region,” Irwyn noted. “I don’t think we will be able to come up with a better guess. Though maybe we will glean something from the promised historical overview.”
“Yes, I would be happy to help, though you have proven more enlightening than I might,” Silvester chuckled. “This is what I have been leading you towards.”
The man pointed ahead to a mural. It was carved into a massive chunk of marble which was leaning against one of the walls, taking up a significant portion of it. On it were, well, depictions. A lot of them and extremely varied in both style and what they were showing. Perhaps hundreds, carved next to each other. But there was also plenty of empty area present, perhaps enough for as many more as were already present.
“Here our village has tried to catalogue every god whose corpse nourish these lands,” the mayor introduced. “At least each we have managed to learn of. A labor of generations. Most other settlements keep a similar record and exchange this information. The nature of the dead gods, where their corpses end up, as well as how long ago that has occurred can influence the very land - sometimes radically so. It is thus important for us to keep track of.”
“I think that’s a crow,” Waylan pointed out one picture out of the mess. It was indeed the depiction of a crow-like bird in the cluster of images, maybe three layers away from the empty space. Except unlike any crows Irwyn had ever seen, its beak which was unhinged wide like a serpent’s.
“Yes, the Secret Eater, perished some 130 or so years ago if I recall,” Silvester nodded. “You might have noticed a certain degree of paranoia people have about crows around these parts? This one’s cult is responsible for that, even after so long. A secretive society that would raise a blessed flock of the birds that could spy on anyone in their area of influence. Which was quite close to here. My predecessor has learned about the death of their god from one of the actual cultists who had once dealt with us.”
“How did that god die?” Irwyn asked curiously.
Besides just wanting to find more information for Waylan, there was an obvious connection. How old was Old Crow? A year ago, Irwyn would have guessed 60, but his horizons had been expanded since. 130 was really not that long in the great scheme of things, especially since the Fowl he had known all his remembered life apparently had some kind of rivalry or at least competition with someone as influential as the Duchess. With the other obvious clues, it seemed exceedingly likely that it was this exact cult Old Crow had once belonged to.
“Not sure,” the mayor unfortunately just shook his head. “Maybe a conflict with a different deity? The cult must have thrived in obscurity for centuries, but once their methods became known they trod fast into decline. People did not like their secrets being held over their heads, especially by a god that could supposedly gain direct power through them. It was basically a matter of when not if a powerful church or cult escalated and wiped their lot out.”
“What about these crows?” Waylan questioned, breaking his long silence. “Are they still around?”
“Probably,” Silvester nodded. “They will be inferior to before, but most likely better than the original species by far, so I expect they wouldn’t die out easily.”
“It could be interesting to track some down for study,” Desir joined in. “Do you have any idea where we could find them? Maybe a few more than just an individual specimen at a time.”
“Well, they would gather at places people wouldn’t find them. So way out of the way of cities or any roads, but also away from local predators. Best if they are only really reachable by flight, but not very visible at the same time. If they even still have the instinct to gather after so much time has passed. You also likely cannot just follow one if you are looking for more, they definitely used to have a supernatural sense for tails and would never lead pursuers to the rest of their flock. I don’t think it will be worth your while, but that is my best advice.”
“Better than nothing,” Elizabeth nodded. They might have been able to figure most of that out themselves eventually, but it probably saved them a few futile hours of just hoping to spot an errant crow to trail behind. Maybe even days if they could somehow detect them even through Elizabeth’s veils.
“Anything else particularly interesting?” Irwyn’s eyes returned to the mural. They had gotten what they wanted and his curiosity had been mostly sated by the group’s own discussion… but there was some more opportunity for sightseeing. Speaking off, his eyes caught on what seemed to be the depiction of a cracked sun.
“Solaria,” the crone’s laughing croak sounded, following his curious gaze. Her face had moved to a different, more nearby, root. “You will like that one.”
“Yes, it is practically a parable,” Silvester nodded. “Solaria, goddess of dawn, then later also of sunlight. Very indiscriminate in who was accepted and light on demands. She thus had a powerful and growing church spanning several nations up to until 12 years ago, wherein she committed perhaps the greatest act of miscalculated hubris in written history.”
“Made too many enemies at once?” Irwyn guessed.
“Much worse,” Silvester shook his head. “She decided that she was powerful enough to declare herself the goddess of the sun.”
“And so the sun smote her for the insult,” the crone jumped in with a particularly overjoyed heckling laugh.
“Yes, there was not much of a corpse delivered here,” Silvester nodded. “Just embers still so hot they carved a chunk out of a mountain, melting it to slag. The village that found them said that the last few pieces of her remained hot enough to melt rock for months before they were eventually collected. As for her former first church, the gargantuan crater supposedly has yet to cool down even today.”
“Damn,” Desir whistled. “Our sun really doesn’t mess around, does it?”
“I suppose not,” Irwyn was also somewhat awed.
Their sun being very much alive and at least equivalent to an immortal Truth mage in power rarely came up. As well as the very real possibility it was Irwyn’s… father? mother? He had actually never pondered that, or if those distinction mattered to such lofty beings. Either way, Irwyn was in no hurry to talk with a creature so powerful, especially one so closely aligned with Stars they might glimpse his great secret.
Afterwards Silvester introduced several other gods from near and far as well as what they knew of their deaths. And while the stories were mildly interesting, none were nearly as insightful as the first two. Most honestly lacked anything more than the scarcest details. Such as the floating ‘ruins’ they had visited which were 200 years dead at least and little else was known.
Eventually they bid their goodbyes. After some discussion, they decided to head South at a much slower pace, avoiding settlements and looking out for any crows. They also needed to find a save enough spot for Alice to imbibe, ideally one with some significant attunement to Time. The shattered mountain might do in a pinch, but they were hoping for better. It would make the process both easier and more potent, according to Elizabeth.
They also shared exactly what Bhaak had told them in the brief exchange before they began discussing the stories about gods. Which was ultimately mostly gossip, as the biggest revelations had been reached through their own discussions. Irwyn wondered how powerful he would need to be to feel the Edict or at least confirm they were even right about its presence.
“I also think that a lot of the ‘my predecessor’ stuff was bullshit,” Desir added. “That granny is probably not the only very longlived member of the family.”
“How would you tell?” Irwyn questioned.
“A hunch and an educated guess from a plethora of small clues,” Desir shrugged. “I wouldn’t bet everything on it, but I think the odds are good.”
Irwyn didn’t feel that way about the mayor but chose not to argue. Little point in it anyway. They needed to find themselves some crows to steal secrets from for a change… once Alice manage to detach herself from the bottle long enough to help find a place where she could actually drink it.
Comments
jdouglas
3 chapters this week or are you still ramping up to two?
jdouglas
Thursday and Friday chapters?
jdouglas
New chapter soon?
jdouglas
Thank you for the chapter!
Meredith
TYFTC! Typos heads up: > “No ticks, just the only possible option, right?” Irwyn shook his head. “An Edict.” ticks→tricks > They also needed to find a save enough spot for Alice to imbibe, ideally one with some significant attunement to Time. save->safe
