The Forsaken Hero

The Great Chapel of the Divine Throne was widely renowned as the place closest to the Divine, where they spoke with their oracles and gave direction to their followers. Much to our relief, we found it relatively empty, with no sign of the Pope or any soldiers.

Filled with relief, I slowed and stared around the titanic room in awe, taking time to appreciate the enormous amounts of wealth and power that went into constructing such a place. We were on ground level, but the rafters marked the roof of the Divine Throne. Wide windows lined the great dome, allowing light to pour in and chase away the shadows.

Eight gargantuan statues stood proudly in alcoves surrounding the room, about equal to the size of their namesakes in the Colosseum, from before. The statues were exquisitely carved and detailed, made of transparent crystal, and looked as though they could start moving at any time. The image of the Sun God stood directly opposite the doors, beneath sprawling sheets of stained glass. It glowed brightly with a soft inner light. The expressions of the priests nearest it were bathed in its brilliance, which seemed to soothe away their worries. The light seemed cruel and unwelcoming and made my horns itch uncomfortably.

The other statues also had this inner light, although theirs varied in brightness. None came close to the Sun God. Only one statue seemed devoid of light. Fate. Her statue was dusty and worn down, without even a glimmer of care. While flowers and gifts adorned the other gods, hers was barren.

Within the circle of Deities, a crystal pillar towered into the air. Rainbow colors sparkled inside it, occasionally glancing out and painting spots of color within the otherwise white room.

Twenty or so priests milled about the room. Some were doing maintenance and cleaning the statues, while others simply bowed before their deity and prayed. I was interested to see several groups of people dressed in mismatched clothing gathered around the central crystal. They looked like characters right out of a storybook, dressed in armor, robes, or leather, and carrying weapons from sturdy bows taller than I was to graceful rapiers. A few carried staffs in their hands or wands on their belts. As we entered, they glanced at us. The priests gave the typical look of disgust mixed with hostility, but the others only seemed curious, as though wondering how a demonkin could possibly be here.

"Who are they?" I asked Soltair, keeping my voice low so they didn't overhear us.

He had been grinning widely as I observed the room in awe, but turned to me seriously to answer the question. "Those are adventurers. They've come to see their abilities and improvements. We call that the Shard of Omniscience. They're gifts from the gods, apparently, and are scattered all around the world. There seems to be one in every major city."

I nodded slowly, staring at the shard. Just like the light crystals and my slave crest, it was proof I truly was in another world. Why couldn't it all be as beautiful as this pillar? Why was it so cold and lonely, so very dark?

Soltair took my hand, favoring me with a gentle smile. "Come, we should hurry," he said, pulling me forward. "We can check the shard for proof of your awakening. It lets you see your abilities and skills anytime you touch it."

"Awakening?"