Book 3 Chapter 52: Bonds and Obligation
Book 3 Chapter 52: Bonds and Obligation
++Of course the Gods are seen less favourably now than they once were. Less and more. Zameka’s role in history is one that has been viewed with increased accuracy in the recent years, though that does not mean she is exempt from whitewashing.++
- Excerpt from “The Fallen God”, written by Gareth Gryndal. 1,972 A.E.
I love surprising people. I love surprising people. I love shattering their expectations, leaving them gaping and confused, scrambling for some hint as to how I know what I do. I love it especially when they were so certain just a moment before, when they believed they knew what was going on, that all facts were accounted for. I love turning the tables on strong people who consider themselves clever, on that sweet moment of revelation where it is made clear that they were in the palm of my hand all along. I love watching their arrogance crack and crumble into confusion and uncertainty, watching their wills give way to the fearful disposition of whipped dogs, watching—
My lower abdomen was starting to throb as I dwelled on the moment, and I made myself concentrate. There was no time for that.
Right now I was surrounded by potential enemies who had just found out I was far more knowledgeable, and therefore far more dangerous, than any of them had previously believed. This could make them decide I would be a powerful ally and turn into more bargaining power for me. It could also make them decide I was a threat and turn this into a fight. If that happened I would either die as Isabel Vornholt, or be forced to unveil Lord Dread’s power.
I was far from my leyline and close enough that people in nearby settlements would sense it, there was every chance that would expose my real identity to the world. So I spoke fast.
“I do not want a conflict with any of you,” I said at last. “But I will know what it is you all want with me badly enough to spy on my home.”
Their leader was the one to answer again. “You owe our master a debt,” they told me.
“That is ridiculous,” I frowned. “I have had no dealings with them since my imprisonment…ended.”
I could practically hear the smile in their voice. “Correct. It was Zameka who provided the means for you to free yourself from the Depths. Zameka, in one final act of mercy, who worked to remove you from your prison and grant you a new home in a new body, with a new Vessel to—”
“The Gods cannot manipulate magicians’ Vessels directly,” I cut in. “Do not insult me with such a ridiculous lie.” If they were capable of that, they would have nothing to fear from liches and nothing to gain from Godtouched. Divine warfare would be fought with engineered prodigies of world-shattering magnitude and talent.
The group’s leader paused, but only for a moment. I got the impression they had not truly expected me to believe that lie, and had only thrown it out on the off-chance it caught me.
“Nevertheless, you owe your freedom to her.”
“And I suppose you have some sort of proof of this?” I asked.
“You were hesitant when you first sensed the magic that led to your escape,” they said without missing a beat. “It took you long seconds to even begin to act, and even then you wavered before doing so. I suspect you were wondering whether the magic was a hallucination or a trap. Of course you took the chance in the end, you had nothing to lose after all, but there was an odd pause before you mustered up the will to do so.”
I began thinking very fast. “You do not need to be connected with Zameka to know that,” I snapped.
“How else would we?”
“Perhaps I was not alone in the Depths. Or perhaps if I was, you had some means of observing me while I remained there.”
“If we had a way of perceiving events as fast as your actions within the Depths, we would already be putting that power to our goals and have no use for you. I don’t think you’re appreciating how wide the difference in time was between your prison and the physical world.”
I did, actually. A mere moment out here had been an aeon in there. It would be easier to perceive the very moment a beam of light intersected with the head of a pin than to track me in the time I took to make a decision after seeing my way out.
But this did not prove I was beholden to these strange new people. “Everything you have listed was circumstantial,” I continued. “You have given me no reason to believe it is connected to Zameka. Obviously you did perceive me somehow, you must have. If you did so by just drifting there yourselves without my noticing then that would explain everything.”
“What do you think the odds are of us happening to step into your prison to watch you leave, after countless eternities of nothing happening. Do you understand the sort of cosmic coincidence you’re describing?”
I did. I did not want to, but it was undeniable. The more I thought about this the more sense I realised it all made.
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“...If you are truly the servants of Zameka, and she truly is responsible for freeing me from the Depths, then I…owe her a debt.”
And just like that, I felt the shackles close over me. Chains imposed by my own morality. Lord Dread was reviled the world over for crimes against humanity, which I did in fact do and most certainly did not regret. But I was not without my own code. And I would not let a debt like this go unpaid.
I saw men and women among the group relax visibly. They had clearly not been looking forward to a brawl of magic with me, however big their numeric advantage was.
“Why did you try to kill me though?” I asked after a moment. “If your master went out of her way to rescue me, you could have made mention of that debt.” Zameka knew enough about me that I was sure she could have conveyed my feelings about oaths to her subordinates.
I saw those subordinates grow shifty and uncomfortable as I broached the topic.
“It doesn’t matter,” their leader said sharply.
“You cannot contact her anymore,” I guessed. “Was it my ritual in Orapathaqi that drove her back into the Depths? No, you would have been far more coordinated if you were in contact with her the whole time. She has not spoken to you since she fell out of grace has she? I would guess her last act before being turned on by her fellow Gods was to free me, and probably bring forth Sakhent too, and you have all been left to merely scramble around and try to interpret her intentions without any contact.”
By the sudden flashes of anger and the growls of discontent, I knew I had hit the mark. The leader of the group remained the calmest, but I could see that even they were somewhat rattled by my guesswork.
“Whatever you are able to deduce about us does not matter,” she said icily. “The fact remains that you owe Zameka a debt. Twice over, I should say, as it was your meddling that drove what remains of her essence deeper into the Depths. We work in her name and in her service, if you wish to pay your debt off you must aid us in restoring her to her full power and drawing her back into this world.”
I considered that on sheer reflex, though I did not, unfortunately, have much of a choice. What the group’s leader said was all correct. I owed a debt.
Zameka had been the one to seal me away in the first place of course, but that had been at the behest of the other Gods, and she had reversed it eventually. I would not forget that initial slight against me either. But I could not repay both my debts to her if I started with the debt of vengeance.
So I would aid her, and then once that account was settled I would take my revenge. A neat solution to an annoying conflict.
“...And of course once Zameka is back, you’re free to betray her and try to seek revenge for being sealed away,” their leader added.
I ignored the remark entirely and moved onto more pressing matters. “You will want to bring Sakhent into this matter as well, I assume?”
Sakhent was a potential danger to me now. He had likely been freed or resurrected by Zameka, just as I had, and yet unlike me I was not sure he considered her personally responsible for his being removed from power in the first place. If Sakhent decided that he owed a debt of gratitude, but not one of vengeance, then he may well decide to repay his debt by foiling my attempts at retaliation.
Then again, it was the Gods of Garamon, Zameka included, who laid waste to his kingdom. I did not need to write off my ally just yet.
The cultists confirmed that they wished me to rope Sakhent into things and began to clear out. They all seemed tense as I did, a sure sign that they were not particularly familiar with me or my code, and by extension ancient liches in general.
But their leader seemed perfectly at peace.
“Who are you?” I asked. “A Demigod?”
I did not know of a way to disguise something that powerful from my sight, but then I did not know nearly as much about divine magic as I did about conventional mana, and Demigods could have abilities without precedent. This one had a constant pulse of powerful magic about them, but I could tell it was veiled somehow and there was no more information available to me than that.
When they answered, I got the impression they were smiling.
“So the great Lord Dread is not as perceptive as I had been led to believe.”
“Answer me,” I told them. My patience was eroding quickly. They seemed to sense it, responding a shade more quickly.
“You can call me the Harbinger.”
“Harbinger of what?”
“You will find out.”
That was ominous. I do not like ominous things, they have a tendency to interfere with my plans. For now, though, moral obligation kept me from doing anything about it. I was quite sure pre-emptively killing one of Zameka’s servants would harm her goals, which meant it would constitute further attack on someone I already owed a debt of gratitude to. Annoying.
“We will contact you later to provide you with your first task,” the Harbinger said as they turned to begin heading away.
“What do you mean?” I shot back. “I agreed to help, not to be assigned missions like some lowly worker.”
They stopped, turning to me with what felt infuriatingly like impatience.
“We have spent over a decade thinking about the best way to resurrect our Goddess, do you want to ignore our advice on the assumption that you can do it better, having received the task several minutes ago?”
“Yes, obviously,” I frowned. This imbecile clearly did not understand the gulf between us.
“Well we do not,” the Harbinger replied.
“I do not care, I will do what I will to clear this debt and then we will have no further business. I did not agree to be a slave.”
The Harbinger paused for a moment, and I got the feeling of great annoyance from them. “We will give you your task, and you can decide yourself when it comes whether to go along with it or not.”
I got the feeling something was being said without it being spoken out loud, though what that might be, I could not imagine.