Garran swallowed the disgusting liquid with an audible gulp. Immediately, his stomach protested and he gagged, but held his dinner. His vision began to blur and his head felt woozy, causing him to blink rapidly so that he could keep his bearings as he swayed slightly.

“What have you done to him!?” he heard Teya shout at Barnabas.

“Don’t get yer whiskers in a twist there, missy,” he replied. “It’s just a mild philter that will enhance his mind, ameliorate his connection to other planar realms, and help tap into his own innate magical powers. All temporarily, of course.”

“It’s also quite a potent sleeping draft,” the ibexian added as an afterthought.

Garran did not dare reply, fearing any loss of breath would cause his knees to buckle. He squeezed his eyes shut, but found he was still quite aware of his surroundings. It was almost as if he could feel the room.

He sensed that the goatman stood before him with an appraising look, while Teya watched him with apprehension. He felt the warmth spreading out from the flickering flames in hearth across the room. He heard, faintly, the blustery wind outside just beyond the barriers of this strange cottage.

Garran could sense bits of power emanating from many corners of the cabin as well. He felt power pulsating from the very walls of the shelter as well as from a few desk drawers. The staff Barnabas had been carrying before was giving off a powerful presence as it stood propped up near the doorway.

The amulet that Teya had given Garran with the howling wolf in the center radiated and surged with a glowing silver force. Garran had only seen this glow and felt this power a few times. First when Teya had poured her magic into it, the second time when Rala had cast her ritual spell on it to bring the Bastion back and the third time… he shuddered.

“Jumpin’ sassafras! You weren’t kiddin’ about explodin’ were ya? Don’t be blowin’ up my house now, ya hear?” the goatman said, but Garran barely heard him.

Suddenly, wind picked up, making the wolfkin’s ears ring in agony. Oddly, nothing within the cabin was disturbed, however. No parchment or items being flung from tables or desks, no items being ripped from their resting places, and not even the clothing or fur from him or his companions whipped in the violent winds.

“What… is… happening?!” Garran yelled through gritted teeth. He strained to keep his balance over the strong winds threatening to push him over.

“Why is he yelling?” Teya asked, confused.

“Why indeed, haha!” the ibexian guffawed.

Garran couldn’t hear the two of them speaking over the howling tempest assaulting him. Instinctively, he widened his stance and pushed against the imaginary windstorm with all his might. The wind began to circulate, forcing him to shut his eyes to dilute the stinging.

With both lids locked tight, he growled, “Can something just make a little bit of sense for once?”

Without warning, he felt himself get lifted into the sky; his body going weightless as if he had jumped off a high peak. He opened his eyes, but saw the same inky blackness as if his lids were still clamped down tight. This darkness was very similar to…

The dream, he thought as a chill ran down his furry back and made his hackles rise.

The wind had died down now and it was deathly still and quiet. His amulet floated in front of him as if he were submerged in water. The silver glow of the escutcheon-shaped symbol the only thing visible in this void of blackness.

While floating there, in the darkness, he heard a voice. A deep voice that was powerful and strong, but also kind and warm.

“Ahh you’ve arrived. I’ve been waiting for you,” the voice said.

“Yes, what is this… summons about?” came the reply.

“Do you know why I have called you here?” the deep voice inquired.

“As my previous statement should have hinted, I am afraid I haven’t the slightest idea,” the feminine voice retorted, with indignation.

As the wolfkin listened to the conversation, a vision came into view before him, illuminated by the light of his sigil; almost as if from the sigil itself.

Before him stood two figures in a vast, opulent hall made of marble and stone. One figure--the one speaking with the deep voice--was tall and clad in resplendent white and silver regalia that flowed splendidly down to the floor. His face was obscured by a hood, but thick, golden hair poured out from beneath it. Behind him, on a wooden stand was the most magnificent set of armor Garran had ever seen.

The armor was plated and made of a strange shimmering metal. It looked as though it had never seen battle, however, the wolfkin highly doubted that to be true. The trim of the breastplate itself was a bright, reflective silver with intricate etchings around the edges. Those etchings were laced with golden flecks that sparkled hypnotically in the glow of the room.

Molded into the center of the breastplate was an escutcheon shape not unlike Garran’s holy symbol. But instead of the silhouette of a howling wolf in the center, there was the shape of a lion’s profile in full roar.

“Aegis,” he whispered to himself in reverent awe.

“I called you here to discuss some troubling news,” the silver-clad being continued speaking to the other figure.

“Well, out with it. I have things to do, Father,” said the other figure.

The second figure was clad in midnight navy robes with deep purple and turquoise trim-lines chasing one another along the hem of the silken fabric. The robe itself covered her face from view, but if the voice and physique were any indicator, the figure beneath the cloth was feminine in nature. The fabric sparkled and shimmered magnificently as she moved. The sleeves and loose-flowing pieces of the garment seemed to majestically float in slow motion as if it were submerged in water. This figure was not nearly as tall as Aegis, but still exuded great power. A raw power. Garran shuddered, or at least he thought he did. Am I dreaming? he wondered.

“Umbra, my dear. How long has it been since we spoke as father and daughter?"

“I’m sure, father, that we never have,” the figure spat, icily."

“Umbra…” Garran whispered to himself.

“Oh come now, child. You always were one for stories and exaggerations. Surely it was not like that,” Aegis said warmly, holding his hand out and taking a step towards her.

Umbra did not retreat, nor did she advance towards the deity. She merely stood her ground, unwavering. An awkward silence stretched between them, then Aegis dropped his hand slowly.

“It won’t work, you know. What you are trying to do,” he said calmly. Garran could not be sure, but he felt the words were laced with sadness or pity.

“Whatever do you mean?” came the cold reply. The response was more dismissive boredom than curious surprise.

“I know about the artifact, daughter. You are overestimating your power,” he said, almost pleading.

Umbra let out a humorless laugh, “And here I thought the great Aegis was compassionate and supportive to all his children… A parent should want his children to succeed. Wouldn’t you agree, Father?”. The last word came out in a hiss and with such malice it made the hair on the back of Garran’s neck stand on end. Or at least he thought it did in this dream state.

“The truth is, Father, I am tired,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Tired of this plane. Tired of this… hands-off approach you take to ruling. If that is what you call it anyway. The beings of Argentava deserve a fierce goddess. A deity that they will fear and obey. Even now, many of your creations do not even utter your name. Even your little… pet project in the Frozen Peaks.”

“Palisade Mountains actually,” he corrected, “but they have taken to calling their homelands the ‘Icy Peaks’. They’ve come so far and evolved their patterns of speech to be like ours! Truly marvelous how they’ve thrived. So loyal and protective of their own. None of the other subjects from that plane have ever shown such devotion to family and tribe.

Palisade Mountains? Icy Peaks? He’s talking about Darkfrosts, Garran thought, his mind racing.

“As far as your statement on my methods of guiding my followers, I believe in ‘free will’ and that even a lost pup will find its way home in a storm eventually. I gave you and your siblings your powers to help those of the world thrive. Your abilities, my dear Umbra, the very water of life to help them grow, but also a power to help shape the world as they need, and as a true daughter of Aegis.”

“See, Father. That is the problem. You assume the pup will come home. When the pup should have obeyed in the first place and never gotten off its tether. I’m tired of playing the role of servant to these… mortals. They should be serving us,” the figure waved a slender, purple-hued hand in the air as she spoke. Her long fingers traced a pattern that became visible as they moved across some invisible surface. The pattern was shaped like a scepter, and as she continued to trace it, the image became more corporeal until a golden scepter hovered in the air before the two figures.

Aegis did not speak as his daughter meticulously performed this enchantment, and his stoic posture gave nothing away. However, when he finally spoke, Garran felt rather than heard the sadness and regret in his voice.

“It does not have to be this way. Please, Umbra… My daughter,” he pleaded.

“It’s too late, Father. I will use your power to break your shield between the planes and give Argentava the deity they deserve.”

Umbra recited an incantation in a strange language, but the wolfkin assumed it was Celestial, the language of the gods. The scepter burst into a blinding, silver light, making Garran flinch. Aegis let out an agonizing cry and strained hard against some invisible force. The deity’s hood fell backwards, revealing the divine being underneath.

Struck with such divine power, Garran was forced to shut his eyes rather than look upon the face of a deity. But not before he glimpsed the visage of a majestic creature. Its long snout ended in a flat nose and philtrum with a white muzzle and jowls. His face was covered with golden fur leading to a thick, majestic mane flowing down his head and back.

“I will not let you do this, Umbra,” Aegis said, strain evident in his voice.

Garran’s eyes were clamped shut, but he could now hear the commotion echoing around him. The scepter now gave off a low humming, Umbra’s rhythmic incanting keeping a quick cadence, and the grunts of strain and frustration from her father ringing out within the vast marble halls.

“Enough!” Aegis’ voice rang out. Anger, resignation, and sadness resonating in his voice.

The hum from scepter ceased and the glow subsided and the hall fell into a brief silence. Peeking tentatively, Garran saw the two figures locked in gaze but unmoving. To the wolfkin’s amazement, the armor was no longer on the wooden stand, but clad on Aegis’ body as if it had been there all along. On his right hip, undrawn, was a large ornate mace of intricate whites, silvers and golds. On his left arm was an enormous silver shield with a large white circle in the center.

Drawn within the circle were five smaller circles. Four of which were arranged evenly at intervals and connected with a single line between the four of them. Each of these shapes had a symbol drawn in them: a tree, an oblong shape with a point at its cusp like a flame, and two that were a series of curved lines. Likely the four elements, Garran deduced. The fifth circle was in the center of the four interlocked ones and bore the same roaring lion symbol as on the breastplate.

Umbra scoffed loudly, bringing Garran back to the fight, “You are so predictable, Aegis. Down to the very part where you underestimate my intellect and determination. This is why it is time for you to step aside.. . NOW!” she bellowed.

Popping into existence all around the room was about a dozen similarly purple-robed figures. Garran’s eyes went wide as realization dawned. These robed beings had the same golden cat-like visages as Aegis, with exception of the mane. Where the deity’s hair was long and flowing, theirs was short and cropped.

The wolfkin forced himself to look towards the lion-esque deity and saw, to his horror, that now Aegis’ face mimicked his own with shock… And fear. The great catlike face contorted from the betrayal; the amber-colored eyes slanted in despair and the strong-jawed mouth turned down in sadness.

“My Bastions?... How?” he asked slowly.

“I told you, Father. It’s time for a change. They have chosen me over you,” Umbra said coldly. “Together, now!”

The lion-esque figures began to chant the incantation and she chimed in once again. This time the scepter’s glow would rival that of the sun’s and the hum was as loud as an avalanche.

A purple beam shot out from the scepter and hit Aegis directly in the chest. The god of protection howled in pain and cried out for them to stop. Garran was glued to the scene in horror, watching helplessly as this dream--or vision--played out before him. Aegis’ silver ethereal glow started to shiver and wink out as whatever this enchantment was pulled at his lifeforce.

All at once, there was a loud CRACK and the lion-faced deity bellowed something the wolfkin did not understand. The chanting in the room stopped and all of the robes of the Bastions floated to the floor, bodiless. Umbra shreaked in rage and pain as she, too, stopped her chanting.

“No, this cannot be!” she shouted.

Breathless and panting hard, Aegis moved his hand in the air, dissolving the scepter and lifting Umbra off of her feet simultaneously, “You know not what you have done, girl. You think me weak, but love and sacrifice is a strength, you fool. You will not see this plane or any other again. I protect my own and will defend it with my life.”

“You... cannot banish... your own daughter to... Twilight. You would not…” Umbra said through gritted teeth.

“In that, you are actually correct. I would not banish my own daughter, but you have lost the right to call yourself by that name,” he muttered, anguished. Then, he waved his hand and Umbra faded out of sight, abruptly cutting off her yelp.

As soon as the demigoddess of water disappeared, Aegis swayed on his feet for a moment, then dropped to his knees, “I… sacrifice to protect… my creations. Be at peace, my children. I am your shield... in the storm,” then the great deity slumped to the floor, unmoving.

As Garran’s vision began to dim, he watched as the image of the roaring lion on the shield faded out until it was just an empty circle surrounded by the four elemental symbols. Wind began to pick up again and as before, he felt himself lifted into the air with a surge.

Garran’s eyes popped wide and he was back in the cottage. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was racing from what he had witnessed. The sheer implications of a rogue deity, banished or not…

Looking up, he was met with the grumpy bearded face of Barnabas and the concerned wolflike face of Teya watching him expectantly.

“Well? Did ya find the orcs?” Barnabas prompted helpfully.

The wolfkin tried to speak, but couldn’t find the words, “I… he…”

“Steward, what is it?” Teya questioned, stepping closer.

“Aegis…” Garran stuttered.

“Hmmm, Aegis was a leonin? Don’t recollect that I ever knew that,” Barnabas said thoughtfully. “Don’t reckon I knew about his little family feud either… That’s prob’ly not gonna work out well for mortals.”

“Well of course he’s a leonin. He’s been in that form since we pledged ourselves to him eons ago,” Teya said matter-of-factly. “And what do you mean ‘family feud?”

“Umbra… she… she betrayed him. I don’t know what I saw in this vision from his concoction,” Garran motioned towards the ibexian, “but if it was real then Aegis is in trouble. Can he...die?” he asked, feeling ignorant.

“No, silly pup. Deities can’t die. Doesn’t mean they can’t lose their powers though. From what you saw, he likely lost some o’ his in the sacrifice which might well explain why your lion-wolf friend here couldn’t get back home. One thing is for certain though…”

Garran raised a furry eyebrow, “And what is that?”

“You have no idea how to drink a potion of enrichment…were you even thinking about the orcs when you drank it? Now I’m going to have to scry to find the green beasts. Can’t rightly give you another swig o’ this stuff. No telling what you’ll do…” Barnabas turned swiftly and stalked off still muttering insults as he went.

The wolfkin looked over at his companion and shrugged, “I could really use a nap…” he said, scratching behind his furry ear.