Time was passing, slowly but surely, and I found that the waiting was driving me mad. Muir was asleep, and though her performance had netted me some blue and green soulflame--blue from ours, green from the enemy, with far more green than blue--as far as I could tell, they weren't people who were going to be long-time worshipers. I suppose that shouldn't surprise me; Xenma didn't seem like the type for having a proper religion, and preferred to be seen as a force of nature. After feeling--not seeing per se--what Muir did, I could see how that would have some kind of appeal.

But Muir was fueled by rage and little else, and when she ran out of steam, she was out. Nobody else there seemed to be one of mine, one way or another, and Xechi--who, as far as I could tell, was smitten and fawning over her friend and Vicar--could not see without a host, although she could kind of report general feelings.

The only thing I had that told me any stories at all, in fact, was the storm. Somehow, once Muir pulled on the weather and made it hers, it became at least for a time, a living thing on its own. It wasn't Muir's magic, nor something I created, so it must have been a remnant of Xenma; the storm spoke to me of people moving through its rain, of people squabbling over dead bodies, and ultimately moving on without burying them. It, unnervingly, let me know which of the enemy soldiers were women, and in particular that two of them had large breasts--a feature that Xenma, I suppose, had used in the past to stalk beautiful women lost in storms.

I shut that part of my power off and resolved to remove it when I had the chance.

Fortunately, one way or another, it didn't take a lot of my concentration, not that I was really testing my limits. I was vaguely tracking what the storm told me, and trying to keep an eye on Raine, and also trying to find any other people who had dedicated themselves to me at all, while watching and waiting for the temple to be built. The only followers I had right now, though, were a few in the military, either those who had returned injured, or those from the group I'd fought with, if they had not been wiped out along with Murn... and three people in Olesport.

Felli, in particular, never seemed to have given up on me.

It had been a while since my own life was peaceful enough to really watch over my people, but Felli struck me as being actually decently happy right now. She was watching over children, and was specifically very delighted by some very minor blessings from me, which let her be more constantly aware of those children, so that none wandered away or did anything foolish. The children were, by and large, willing to be watched over, so the blessing was not forcing anyone; it was just a two-sided bond, with one or two exceptions for problem children. The children wanted not only to be watched over, but to be paid attention to, and this helped; it made a certain kind of logical sense that I never would have thought of in advance.

The Mayor, Mel, I was also not terribly surprised to find on my short list of worshipers, although she was definitely not what anyone would call devoted. With her guard captain called out for military service, she was filling in on patrols, doing entirely too much to make sure that her people were safe. Although I have no doubt she would have succeeded without me, little blessings made a lot of difference to her mental state--not having to squint and peer in the darkness, an ability to recognize people she knew at a glance, an ability to better recall what she just saw and review it, as I'd done many times before... for an overtaxed guard, these things just meant that her duty didn't overwhelm her, or not as quickly.

An odd thing I noticed, which I would not have expected to--Mel was apparently not married or in a relationship. I had no intention of prying, but... the way she used my power, to some degree, made it obvious. In particular, she chose to recall things she'd seen in the day, later on at home... and, well, after seeing her choice in men, I could only shrug and let her be. She already had my respect, and as I said, I had no reason to pry, though it was interesting, in a gossipy sense.

The last person, I would not have expected; I might have thought that Alanna somehow counted, or perhaps Nency was doing some small thing, but no; Cortnee, the grouchy, man-hating witch who had healed Felli was apparently keen to use my power to pry into the affairs of others. She wasn't too invasive--if she had been, I would have noticed earlier--but she seemed keen to spy on people down the street, and (if I understood correctly) was using enhanced eyesight to better read lips, while just kind of creepily hanging out by the upstairs window, poking her head out just enough to see, and pulling back if anyone looked her way.

I wasn't crazy about the power being used that way, but whatever. It would be different if she were violent, but this seemed harmless enough.

Among the military, there were only a few who I thought were likely to be long-term devotees. One in particular had at some point when I was not paying attention, asked to have a small talisman blessed, and it became some kind of holy symbol for her. It didn't do anything; it wasn't an enchantment, just a connection to me in some spiritual way that made it easier for her to ask for blessings, which she did a few times a day, just to see the world more clearly. I realized, after a bit, that she was in fact nearsighted; the blessing let her see the world as it was, but it consumed a bit of her magic energy to keep active, and she didn't have a lot.

That was... nice. The other devotees were more transactional; they knew that my power could be used, essentially, in place of binoculars or something similar, and would only use it where they would have used an appropriate tool. It wasn't emotional, although they were glad to have it. They also were not likely, I supposed, to proselytize to try to spread my religion, where the one with the amulet would. I resolved to keep my eye (hah) on that one moving forward.

I reviewed all of that while either wandering around the cavern that had been carved, or watching them make the few squat stone buildings that we more or less agreed would need to be constructed above the cliff.

I was, for many reasons, glad for the skilled laborers. It was Herdy the enchanter among them who had cleared his throat and talked to me at one point about my plan to conceal people here; he had asked the particulars, and after turning the situation over in his head for only a minute, seemed to cut through the problem like a knife.

"It sounds as though the soldiers--Parre, I would gather from context; they're the ones in the Southeast of this continent--are most likely after the women from the Temple and the leaders of the town. So all you really need to do is shelter them in the cliff, and let the rest of the citizens stay above. The enemy will show up, threaten, maybe hurt the citizens a little, but as long as they can't find their targets, and assuming you as a god threaten to harm them if they attack the innocents, they'll assume the rest moved on. After all, the Blades wouldn't stay in another god's temple--honestly, I have some trouble believing you'll convince them, even with..." and he gestured in the vague direction of, I assume, the last place he saw Miana.

I pursed my lips, uncomfortable with how much these few people knew about her and my situation.

"So you make a small number of buildings here, make it look like you've been here a while, and say you're offering sanctuary to the people, but the Blades have left. They probably won't fight over the people, not if you're actually capable of putting up a fight, and I assume there will be some guards there. The rest are hidden, by godly means and a bit of my help, and with that, you should be able to bluff your way out of it." Herdy scratched his chin and considered for another moment, before adding, "I know some of you gods are proud, but you'll have to make sure you don't come out of it unscathed. Let them win a little, as long as they don't win it all."

That was good advice, but it was Miana who I would have to convince to swallow that bitter pill, especially after her tirade about them being her people.

After that, Herdy got on adding some enchantments to the area around the staircase, enchantments that were complicated in design but seemed to just be a way to conceal the opening. Watching him work made me feel ever more strongly that the book on Water magic that I'd picked up was definitely being condescending when it called water magic "basic enchantment"; I could see him altering stone, weaving together energies in precise mixtures, plotting out script, taking careful measure of distance, and dozens of other small details, none of which were remotely like "put a rule into your Sea essence" as the book had described.

In the meantime, the others were constructing simple stone huts from the stone they'd taken out of the cliff, including one long, two-story one that looked more like a barracks than anything. I was nervous because it took them a while to get started, but I realized quickly that they were concerned about flooding; they didn't build any closer than a particular spot in the banks where the slope changed slightly, and were sure to make a firm foundation for the long building in particular, if not the huts.

The foundation for the Temple itself was large and deep, but they had not gotten far with the actual construction--although they did construct a stone bridge over the river, with stairs on each side, positioned, I assume, so that the front of the temple would be in the middle of the bridge. I still worried a bit that the foundation would eventually sink; having thought it through more than a moment, I suppose it would eventually--but that was a problem for far into the future. And, honestly, they did seem to have made a very large foundation, one that would not easily break down or get eroded around.

Just another thing to keep an eye on in the future.

As for the refugees... based on Raine's position, they were not quite yet on the plateau, which I was starting to understand was the whole region I was now on top of, but they were getting close. There was some fear, and worry, among those who followed her, I thought, but not much I could do without meddling, and my arguments with Miana had sapped me of more than a little.

Hopefully, she could--as I did--make good use of the golden soulflame, but so far, I hadn't seen her since she had fled to deal with her blood and blackflame situation. I hoped she was fine--trusted, had faith that she was fine--but it was a complicated situation, and I worried.

More than anything, I just had to hope that she had calmed down.

More than anything, Miana couldn't help the feeling of panic that wanted to eat away at the edges of her.

There were a lot of factors to it, but the greatest was her lack of power. Ciel'ostra's Book had a page at the beginning that showed her stored soulflame, and she could see something like a watermark that had been the previous--had been Lu'nella's soulflame, and hers simply didn't measure up. Just by existing, Miana had to power a lot of enchantments that had been made in the name of the Goddess, and that ate up most if not all of the incoming faith from the people of her nation.

As imposing as the flow in and out was, it didn't leave her with a lot of gains. That meant if she screwed this up, if people fell into a panic and stopped believing, she would be forced to maintain enchantments with nothing to replace the power. But, if she broke the enchantments, would that start the panic? How could she reassure people that things were fine when she didn't believe that they were--when she didn't know that things would turn out?

Meanwhile, her best ally was an idiot, new at being a god, and being toyed with by powers beyond his control. Something about him still didn't add up, and she wasn't sure what. And this Erika, who was not a Goddess, was not eager to help but was certainly eager to meddle and, she felt sure, was demanding something in return.

If Alanna arrived as Erika said she would, who knows whether she would be interested in helping, or reclusive, as she has always seemed to be. There was a matter of figuring out how to disrupt the cult that had taken over Xerana's Church--if she even agreed to be involved in that matter, or if the enchantment over this place forced the issue, as Erika had said. And they would have to get along, which the goddess of Knowledge and the goddess of Blades had not historically done.

Miana allowed herself a small smile at that thought. She didn't know how much of her experiences with Lu'nella were her real personality--she had been the priestess, and the hag, both of whom Miana had several conversations with, but she had also been Murn, who was a much more imposing figure--but Miana was already quite certain that she was a very different goddess than her predecessor. Murn was not much of a strategist; a general, yes, but at least by the end of her life, she had become a figure known for being a leader and powerful warrior, but not so much of a thinker. That was a reputation sharply at odds with Miana's, and she would never abide by being thought of as a dullard or fool. So perhaps, just perhaps, she and Alanna might get along.

All of which led her back to the page in Ciel'ostra's book, showing her soulflame totals.

There were two marks that had not been there before, two circles separate from the main one. One was red, and perhaps the size of a single mote of ink; the other was black, and only visible because the page went out of its way to highlight what might have otherwise been an insignificant speck of dust on the page.

The page itself gave off a powerful feeling which instructed Miana to turn to the page about the forbidden Soulflames. If she had not already intended to do so, she would have done it immediately; but since it was telling her what she already knew, she stopped and studied the enchanted page. Lu'nella would never have, she supposed; perhaps most of the Goddesses of Blades that preceded her were chosen for martial prowess, or perhaps it was something that Lu'nella had been unique to, but she had never had a lot of concern for mages and sorcery. Perhaps that was why, every time she had met Bia'nella, the High Priestess, she had felt that the older woman was dead inside, going through actions by rote, with no eagerness to perform her duties in spite of her position and responsibility.

But this page had been made by a Goddess of Blades, most likely the first. Certainly the power that had made the book was still within her.

She studied it for a long time, but while she felt she was close to an answer, the growing, gnawing feeling inside her eventually made her refocus her eyes on the page, where as moments ticked by, little bits of red ink turned black and migrated to the other spot on the page.

Miana shuddered and flipped to the instructions on rejecting certain kinds of flame from her followers. She had put this off, not taken it seriously, but the more she thought about the Blades she had known, the more she realized that it was foolish. They would delight in taking power from their foes, if they could. They would think that it was just power, just another weapon. If that made their goddess stronger, gave them a chance at victory, they would gladly string up an enemy and bleed them dry, as a celebration of victory.

They were warriors, and their enemy were in their home. Butchery would only make the enemy fear them, would only make them retreat. They had no idea the cost, and Miana supposed she could never tell them.

She reread the directions and closed her eyes, focusing on her inner world.