“Praise be to High Father,” he whispered, eyes closed. He stood still for a moment, letting the words settle before crossing inside.
The temple smelled faintly of damp wood and cold air. Tekla stood near the altar, speaking with two women.
“We should never use those cloths to polish the altar,” Tekla said, her tone calm but firm as she pointed at the gray and tattered rag in one woman’s hand.
“Forgive me, Priestess,” the woman muttered, clutching the cloth tighter. “I didn’t know…”
“We all make mistakes,” Tekla replied, her voice softening. “Only High Father is without fault.” She reached into a nearby basket and pulled out a folded silk. Its surface reflected the faint light of the crimson leaves above, proving just how precious it was. “Use this one. Move with the grain, not across it.”
The woman bowed her head, accepting it with both hands.
“Priestess, should I return later?” Lucas asked quietly once the moment felt right.
“No, I was only teaching the sisters how to tend the altar,” Tekla said with a small but warm smile. She turned toward him, reading the tension in his stance, and motioned for him to follow.
They walked deeper into the temple where the walls thickened and the murmurs from outside faded.
“Did he speak?” Tekla asked when they stopped before the inner chamber.
“No,” Lucas answered, shaking his head. “He doesn’t respond to pain or questions. I doubt we can break him without magic, and even that would be risky. As a blessed one, his mind might be protected by his god. If that’s true, no mortal could survive tampering with it.”
Tekla nodded slowly, lips pressed together as she thought. “Perhaps we should ask Avenor to use the blade that High Father granted him…”
Lucas hesitated, taking a glance at the sword that was displayed on the platform in the center of the temple, then shrugged. “As you decide, Priestess.”
“I’ll think on it,” she said, her composure returning with her familiar, calm smile. “But first, I must speak with the other Vaels. We need to choose a name for the new settlement and decide several matters before nightfall.” She turned toward him, tone warm. “Thank you, Lucas. You’re as reliable as ever. Oh, and please send someone to inform the Vaels I’ll be waiting.”
Lucas bowed slightly, trying to hide a proud smile that betrayed his true emotions, and then made his way back toward the entrance. He reclaimed his blades, checked the straps, and with an effortless leap vanished toward the building where the three Vaels stayed until their own homes were built.
Since the extermination of the spider mutants, Lucas’s main duty had been interrogating Eralon. Yet no matter what he tried, the man remained silent. Not a word, not even a groan escaped him.
I had also tried to pull him into my dominion but abandoned the attempt almost immediately. The system warned me that pulling in an Inquisitor of another god without their consent was forbidden. It wasn’t impossible, just costly. The kind of penalty I had no intention of testing.
One of the few alternatives I could think of was Mind Magic, the same kind Aria had once used on Avenor. But I dismissed it for the same reason Lucas was skeptical. Even if I wasn’t certain whether the Night God shielded his Inquisitors’ minds, I wasn’t willing to risk Aria’s life to find out. Besides, she hadn’t managed to best Avenor’s willpower before, and Eralon’s resolve seemed even stronger. The man had bitten off his own finger just to cast a spell. That kind of pain tolerance didn’t come without immense willpower.
I had even considered blessing Aria and raising her Rank to Platinum. Her devotion was no longer a concern. After witnessing me defeat the spider mutants, her faith had deepened, or perhaps it was pride, born from serving a god she now saw as reliable and powerful. I certainly didn’t lack divine power. With three more tribes gradually accepting my mark, I now held over 4,000 Divinity Points. But spending 1,250 just to elevate a single Velmoryn who wasn’t among the most devoted felt wasteful. Especially when I still needed to raise my own Rank.
There was another option, one far more promising, Karla. She had already reached Platinum before pledging herself to me, and the time she’d spent within my dominion, constantly exposed to my divine power, had likely made her even stronger. Unfortunately, she was still recovering, and Guidance estimated it would take at least three more months.
The last idea I had was to ask Gundir if he knew any effective methods of torture. The Drukyr had lived long enough to learn from Elves, and I suspected he knew things that others wouldn’t dare admit. But he wasn’t my believer. He had made it clear that while he didn’t mind taking part in peaceful rituals, his help would remain limited to forging tools and constructing buildings.
So I was stuck. Waiting, either for Karla to wake or for Aria to increase her own Rank.
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“Aria, you know very well that even absorbing two Faint Essences together can kill you, let alone greater ones!” Vaelari snapped, voice rising until it filled the small room. Aria sat across from him, head slightly lowered, fingers tracing the wooden table.
“I’m not saying I’ll take them together…” she murmured, careful, avoiding his eyes.
“No, you’re saying you want to risk absorbing two Essences in the same day and Greater ones at that!” Vaelari shouted, his palm striking the table hard enough to make the cups jump. Then he stood abruptly and began pacing the room, the boards creaking under his boots.
“I must become powerful,” Aria whispered, more to herself than to him, as if repeating it could make it sound reasonable.
Vaelari stopped mid-step. He turned sharply, lips parting to argue, but no words came. He stared at her for a long moment before his shoulders dropped.
“Aria, you will die,” he said finally. “No Velmoryn has ever survived absorbing two Greater Essences in a single day. The rule exists for a reason - you must wait a week between them. The difference in energy is too much. I could perhaps shorten that to six, maybe five days by cleansing the toxins through channeling my mana into you, but…”
“Vaelari,” Aria interrupted, reaching forward and grasping his hand. “I’m not planning to absorb them the old way. I won’t place them under my skin and let the Essence dissolve into my blood.”
Vaelari blinked, startled by her grip, then let himself be pulled closer until he sat opposite her again.
“Then how?”
“Avenor met a woman in the dungeon, you know that, right?” she asked. “She was dissolving Essences in some strange liquid and swallowing them. I want to try that method.”
“Aria, she was human,” Vaelari replied, his tone softening but still edged with disbelief. “Their bodies are different. Maybe their metabolism handles the energy differently, or their reactions to certain elements…”
“Avenor already tried,” Aria said quickly, cutting him off with a faint smile. From her Veilspace, she pulled a small vial half-filled with cloudy but transparent liquid and placed it gently on the table. “Even if he’s half…”
She froze, realizing too late what she had almost said. Her eyes widened.
Vaelari didn’t move for several seconds. Then, with a sigh, he said, “Avenor was shouting yesterday that he’s half Elf and half Velmoryn… and that he loves our kind more than the Elves.” His voice carried no anger, only suppressed amusement. He reached out and took the vial, turning it in his hand as the light caught the swirl inside. “If you already have this, and you’re confident it works on us, why come to me?”
“Because Avenor doesn’t have more,” Aria complained, regret heavy in her tone. “And you’re the only Velmoryn here who can identify what’s inside.”
“I can name the elements,” Vaelari said, squinting at the fluid, “but I can’t guess the proportions or the binding process. If I get either wrong, the result could be poison.” He leaned closer, watching how the liquid clung to the glass, muttering fragments of chemical ratios under his breath.
Aria smiled faintly as she watched him work - a rare smile, the kind she only showed when she stood on the edge of learning something new about magic.
“Aria,” Vaelari said suddenly, setting the vial down near his elbow and fixing her with a stern look. “I’ll do everything I can to recreate this. But you must swear, right here and now, that until I confirm it’s safe, you’ll follow the old way of absorbing essences. No experiments, no shortcuts.”
Aria’s lips curved into a small, confident smile. “I swear on my mother’s name,” she said softly, “and I swear on High Father’s name.”
That bastard lied to me.
Several days after Avenor left the dungeon I asked him to give the liquid to Vaelari for study. I planned to use Guidance on it to help the healer recreate the formula, but he said he had already used it. Even when I read his mind, the truth was murky; perhaps because he had indeed used half and was genuinely worried I’d punish him. He probably didn’t care about the rest of the vial so much as he wanted to end the awkward conversation as fast as possible.
I wasn’t especially angry that he’d lied. Back then I had considered killing him several times; compared to that, hiding the liquid felt minor. And besides, more important was figuring out the ingredients.
Guidance.
The information Guidance provided was thorough, far more than I expected, but I decided to pass it to Vaelari later, only after letting him struggle for a few days. I could have given him the full formula immediately, yet something in me hesitated.
Even if I didn’t mind stepping into my believers’ daily lives, making them dependent on me was the last thing I wanted. Mortals grew stronger by facing adversity, not by having it removed. If I stepped in every time one of them hit a wall, they’d stop learning how to climb. And one day, when they encountered an obstacle even I might struggle to move, they’d crumble because every step that should have hardened them would have been taken for them by someone else - me.
So I chose to wait. To let Vaelari wrestle with the puzzle on his own. And even if I finally intervened, it would be with small hints, fragments of insight that would lead him to his own discovery. That way, the knowledge would settle deeper, earned rather than gifted.
The liquid had great potential. It would immensely speed up my believers’ growth once perfected. But for now, my attention shifted elsewhere.
I was far more curious to hear what name Tekla and the other Vaels would choose for the settlement, because that name would be the first word the world associated with me; the mark by which my believers and the very first power under my name would be known.
The next chapter on Monday
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