C H A P T E R 2

GODS AND MAGIC (PART 1)

Avendar was turning out to be a nice place. It was similar to what Vi imagined Ireland would be like. Not that she’d ever been there, but she knew it was foggy and had a lot of rocks. Sorya had taken her to a seaside cove a few days ago. The only way to get there was to hike down a steep trail after a two hour walk. They’d had a picnic, and Sorya had answered any and all questions Vi could think to ask.

The monks generally accepted that Vi knew nothing about the world. No one questioned how this was possible when she was obviously educated. No one questioned why a girl from a fishing village would not know how to fish or sail, and have no calluses on her hands and feet. No one questioned why a peasant would be pale and fat like a noble. They didn’t question anything about her. Apparently, Avri was as feared as he was respected.

Sorya was her rock. As Avri had stepped back on his involvement in her affairs, Sorya had stepped in to take his place. She was only a little older than Vi, and looked a lot like her. They had similar senses of humor, had fun together, did chores together, even slept together on cold nights. That last part had been weird at first, until Vi had learned it was common practice.

Despite growing up worlds apart--literally--Sorya was fast becoming the sister Vi never had.

“And legend has it…” Sorya spoke in hushed tones, using the storyteller’s voice that seemed to come naturally to her. “That in a far and away place, beyond the tallest mountain at the end of the world, if you listen closely to the sound of the wind… you can hear the clang of hammer and sputter of flame, at the forge where the Stars are made.”

“Wow,” Vi managed, between shovelfuls of horse shit.

It was early morning, and they were mucking out the stables. It was the least popular chore, so the monks and workers of the temple drew lots to decide who got stuck with it. For the last tenday straight, it had been Vi. She kept telling herself it was only a coincidence that for the last tenday straight, Kett had overseen the drawings.

“That was a good one.”

“My mother told me that story,” said Sorya. “There were a lot of nights we’d have to sleep outside, if she couldn’t find work or if we’d been evicted again. One night I asked her what stars were. That was her answer.” Sorya grinned. “Biggest mistake of her life. I asked for that story near every night. Drove her half mad.”

“But she told it anyway,” Vi said, wistfully.

“That she did. Mothers,” Sorya shook her head.

Their conversations were a little one-sided. Vi had to have a free hand to speak, and most chores required two. But Sorya usually finished her own chores early, and when she found out Vi was on stable duty for the third day in a row, she’d volunteered to help. That had been seven days ago.

“Oh, I should warn you, we have a full day ahead,” said Sorya. “Avri asked me to teach you the basic rites and rituals and Sheksetir.”

“We have the whole day, for just the basics?” They were almost finished, so Vi could afford to rest for a moment and actually converse. “You going to teach me how to walk on water or something? Or how to turn it into wine?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll learn those things if the God of Storms ever invites you for tea.”

The biggest problem Vi had right now--and was probably going to have for a long time--was never knowing when someone was telling the truth or being sarcastic. Back home, she’d never really considered how greatly sarcasm depended on context and common knowledge.

Seeing the look on her face, Sorya chuckled. “Endyrimon, God of Storms, is known for inviting mortals that strike his fancy to lavish parties. According to the stories, he’s the friendliest of the gods.”

Not joking then. “Well, old stories and all that.”

“Old?” Sorya shook her head. “No, his last party was two years ago. A retinue of Cloud Knights sailed down from the sky on a ship of glass to give Avri his invitation personally. Caused quite a stir.”

Joking or not, Vi? Joking or not?

“You must come from a place where they worship the new gods,” Sorya grumbled. “I don’t like the new gods. You’ll change your ways, staying here.”

Vi shoveled as Sorya spoke, considering what to say next. “What’s the difference between the new gods and the old gods?” Vi never thought she’d be jealous of someone shoveling shit, but stopping every few seconds to grab the amulet was getting annoying, and quickly. At least she had no problem understanding people now.

“...You must understand, some people serve the gods only for their personal gain. Whether or not their beliefs truly align, doesn’t matter. It’s about three things for them: power, influence, and inclusion.”

“Inclusion?”

“People want to belong, to feel like they’re part of something greater than them. So they worship gods. Even if they don’t believe in them, the feeling of speaking the rites, surrounded by tens, hundreds, sometimes thousands of men and women and children doing the same, is intoxicating. Addictive. And as more people flock together to know that feeling for themselves, they become easy prey for the darker hearts within their number.”

“Power and influence,” chimed Vi.

“Yes. But I’m getting away from my point. The old gods are here. They’re real. Their hands shape everything around us. And sometimes, they walk among us. I myself… I spoke to Sheksetir, in the flesh.”

Whoa.

“It’s not a coincidence that I’m here at this temple. Regardless, there were, and are, some who believe that a being that walks our land, breathes our air, eats our food, and speaks our tongues cannot, by definition, be a god. So they invented their own. Or found them somewhere, I don’t claim to know. Gods so great that you can’t understand their methods and motives. Who you can speak to but may never deign to listen. Who you are not allowed to question, because you can’t possibly understand the answer. They threw away something true and meaningful because it wasn’t good enough for them, and that’s what they chose instead.”

Vi felt cold. Sorya had tried to stay calm, but venom had crept into her words. It was strange, to think about religion like this. She considered herself an atheist, but she’d always thought if the gods were real, that everyone would believe in them, and the entire issue of religion would be solved. Yet even here, where magic was real and the gods invited mortals to tea parties, people denied them, and believed whatever they wanted to believe. There was no good religion versus bad religion like in books and movies. Here, or Earth, it was the same.

And suddenly Vi understood Sheksetir on a level she never thought possible.

Vi didn’t understand Sheksetir at all.

Pour enough water but not too much. Walk with your feet spaced so far about but not too far, holding the bowl like so. Set it just so. Everything, just like so, just like so, just like so. These rituals had obviously not been designed for clumsy teenagers. Fortunately, the Sanctum was empty except for her and Sorya.

“Now repeat after me,” said Sorya, who Vi thought was enjoying this way too much. “As the river of bright water flows from the high mountains--”

“Slow down!”

“I said repeat after me, not tell me how to do my job.”

“You’re going too fast!” Water sloshed out of the bowl as Vi let go with one hand and almost tripped over herself. She never would have complained about having to wear dresses to formal occasions if she’d known she’d be doing the sadist’s version of the wedding march while wearing a heavy robe and wooden sandals. Okay, she would have, but not as much.

“I’m not. Remember? We have the whole day.”

It was early afternoon, and they weren’t a quarter of the way done.

“Ahh! As the river of bright water flows from the high mountains…”

“It brings light and life to all it touches. On its journey, it will build forests, carve mountains, and nurture hearts. We Adherents of Sheksetir know all journeys must end, and all rivers must flow to the sea. Yet what is the sea, but the place all rivers gather to rest, when their noble work is done.”

Vi repeated the words, and then poured the bowl of water into a depression on top of the altar. She stood back and watched as the water ran in tiny rivulets down the carved face of the altar, clinging to the stone, until it reached the reflecting pool at the bottom.

“Good job,” said Sorya, who was lounging in a pew two rows back. “At least as far as the movements. I can't understand a word you're saying unless you're clutching that amulet. Mayhap I should hide it so you have to learn the language the old fashioned way. Or you could just hand it over now?”

The Sanctum was the largest room in the temple, but it still wasn’t very large. It hadn’t been designed to hold a lot of people, just the monks and a few bystanders. Sorya had mentioned that the Temple of Anathar that Barrus operated from--in some country far to the south whose name she’d forgotten--was practically a palace, and its Sanctum held thousands. Apparently the God of Death did not garner as much favor, here or anywhere else.

To make up for the lack of space, however, they’d covered the walls in every manner of stone carving and scrollwork. The altar itself was a stone monolith that had been chiseled down into shape. The top half was some sort of abstract sculpture, while the bottom half was a small alcove at Vi’s shoulder height, with space for offerings and the water bowl. The reflecting pool was set about a foot off the ground, jutting out in a half circle from the altar itself. It was designed so that an Adherent could reach over the pool and touch the altar, but get no closer.

“No way in hell,” she said, plopping down next to Sorya,

Sorya laughed. “Speak not of hell in the realm of death.”

“Hell’s for the living anyway,” said Vi with no small amount of melancholy. The darkness stirred.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sorya raised her hand, palm up, and quirked an eyebrow.

“Huh?” Vi gave Sorya a similar look. “Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that,” Sorya shot back. Was she upset? “You’ve been here for what? Almost three tendays? And you’ve spent most of that time with me. I’ve never heard you say something like that.”

“I talk like that all the time,” Vi defended.

“You can be mopey and defeatist sometimes, yes, but that? That was dark, Vi. Demon dark. And blasphemous.”

“All right! Sorry, Sorya,” said Vi, nearly cutting the older girl off. “I was being sarcastic and I went too far. I won’t do it again.”

Sorya harrumphed. “You’d better not, or I’ll turn you into a toad.” Sorya’s hand began to glow with ethereal light, and Vi leaped up out of the pew, mouth agape.

“YOU CAN DO MAGIC?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”

Sorya closed her hand into a fist, and the glow stopped. “It’s no big deal, Vi,” she said somewhat sheepishly. “Pretty much everyone here can cast a little something.”

“This IS a big deal! This is a VERY big deal!” Vi grabbed Sorya’s now tragically unmagical hand in her own and pulled it every which way, as if it were a machine and she could figure out how it fit together. “I’ve been here this long and I never knew, and now I find out everyone can do it?!”

Sorya yanked her hand away. “Okay, okay, I probably should have told you earlier. Let’s call us even, then. Anyway, it doesn’t look like you’re going to make much more progress today, so…” Sorya grinned mischievously. “Why don’t we get something to eat, and then I can show you a few tricks.” Vi nodded enthusiastically and let Sorya push past her and lead the way to the kitchens.

The temple’s lands were laid out in a vague triangle. The western point was the temple proper and the dormitory, two buildings in an L shape connected by walkways and courtyard garden. The southern point was the pasture and its surrounding fields, where peasant workers and a few monks would spent their days working under the sun. The eastern point was the kitchen, part of a squat outbuilding that also housed the dining hall and the laundry. A flagstone path meandered there between stone walls and hedges before finally coming to a footbridge over a simple fish pond.

The first whiff of food always came the moment Vi stepped onto the bridge, which made it the high point of the short journey. Usually the cooks made hearty vegetable dishes with fresh baked bread and goat’s milk, but today Vi smelled roasting meat. Her stomach rumbled.

“Do we not feed you well enough, milady?” Sorya joked, eliciting a fake chuckle from Vi.

They didn’t. But food was the last thing on Vi's mind. She was going to learn magic! It was every nerd's dream to learn magic, wasn't it? And she was going to get to live it!

Sorya flung open the door to the kitchens and announced in a cheery voice, "We've come to eat your food!"

The kitchens were crowded with all manner of cookware; knives, cleavers, pots, pans, bowls, prongs, tongs, and spoons hung on hooks from the thick wooden ceiling beams. Rows of ovens lined the back wall, and a cauldron big enough to fit a grown man comfortably steamed in the corner. In the center of the room were two great tables. Their surfaces had once been smoothe, but years of constant use had left them scored and pitted. Lastly, nearby the door, a mound of unwashed dishes loomed over a metal washtub filled with soapy water.

Marya the kitchenmistress looked up from a pot she was scrubbing, her tall, narrow frame unfolding until she stood ramrod straight. She looked at Sorya and Vi down her nose and then turned her cheek toward them. "Wait until supper like everyone else, you glutton! You'll get no food from me until then!" With a sneer, the old women bent over again, her top half disappearing into the pot.

Sorya was about to respond when a hand appeared from under a counter holding a basket of rolls and dried cheeses, which Sorya accepted with a bow. Vi caught sight of a ten year old boy winking slyly before disappearing once more into the shadows. The young master of stealth reappeared halfway down the line and resumed chopping a cabbage as if he'd never left his station.

As they closed the kitchen door behind them, Sorya held a finger to her lips. "Effran always keeps a few baskets on hand in case anyone shows up hungry. Don't tell anyone. Now then, let's go for a walk."

Vi munched on a dinner roll as Sorya led the way. They left the path, crushing wet grass underfoot. By the time they lost sight of the temple behind the rolling hills of Avendar, Vi had finished two more rolls and was starting on a fourth. Sorya was still absently munching on her first, and when she turned her head Vi could see a wicked grin creeping up her cheeks.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Vi queried haltingly. Sorya's face merely took on a more fiendish quality as she turned away.

They walked for another half hour in silence before they came to what looked like the entrance to a tomb, and Vi immediately knew that was their destination. Vi could only wonder if there was some purpose to bringing her here or if Sorya was being dramatic. She decided it was likely a bit of both.

"Here's a demonstration of the first spell you're going to learn," Sorya said, turning around and walking backward over the threshold in measured steps. Vi stood outside the entrance and watched her friend disappear into the unnaturally deep shadows. She thought she could see Sorya make a gesture with her hand, and then she disappeared from view entirely.

It began as a pinprick of light, like an ember in a fire that had burned out. Then it slowly grew, highlighting the silhouettes of black fingers clutching the air around it. Then Sorya's face appeared, the bright globe swirling between her palms washing out the lines and detail so that she appeared ageless and angelic. Her hair swirled in a soft breeze that seemed to eminate from the light as she kept her face calm and expressionless, eyes closed as if in sleep.

"This is Illuminate," Sorya whispered as what was now a perfect sphere of peach-colored light left her hands and floated gently upwards until it hung above her forehead, casting her shadow wide behind her so that it obscured what lay beyond. She opened her eyes. "Avri likes to start neophytes with it because it teaches Etherik compression and isn't dangerous."

Vi stared at the ball until spots appeared in her vision. Screwing her eyes closed, she rubbed at them with her pointer fingers until the spots went away. "Wouldn't it be dangerous if it was too bright?" she asked, thinking about what had just happened. "You could go blind, like if you stare into the sun too long."

"Well, it's..." Sorya petered off and looked up at her spell, blinking rapidly as she did. "You see, I... Huh." She shrugged. "I guess don't stare at it then, oh wise one. Consider it a lesson that any spell can be dangerous if you put your mind to it."

Jabbing a finger in Sorya's direction, Vi retorted. "What do you mean consider it a lesson? I was the one who pointed it out to you!"

Sorya cocked her head. "I'm sorry, do you want to learn magic?"

"Yes," said Vi.

"Then follow me and shut up." Sorya wheeled about on her heels and marched deeper into the underground. With a momentary pause at the entryway and a final glance at the sunny sky, Vi trailed behind. As soon as she was fully inside, the ambient light began to dim until the Illuminate spell was the only thing she could see. Even her footsteps sounded thick and distant. Her robes dragged behind her as she moved. It was almost as if the air had thickened to water and she was caught in a current.

"This place," Sorya began, her voice carrying despite its quietude, "is filled with Etherik, the unseen energy that courses through the world, our bodies, and our souls. It is the residue from the first act of creation, the first spell. Every living thing has a connection to Etherik, but only those with a strong will and a stronger life force can ever wield it. Those who cannot keep their feet are swept away like a grain of river silt into the ocean, and lost forever."

"So how do you know I can do it?" Asked Vi. Her voice echoed in the dark. Or she thought it was an echo. She could have sworn one of those echoes was male.

"Your amulet. Not anyone could have picked it up and used it so instinctually, or at all." Vi thought for a moment, and realized Sorya was probably right. Barrus had assumed she was one of Avri's students when he gave her the amulet, and the fact that she wasn't had surprised him. Distantly, it occured to her that she should be excited that magic came to her instinctually, but for some reason her emotions felt hollow. Out of reach somehow.

The Illuminate continued to glide down the tunnel, but Vi couldn't see Sorya beneath it, or anywhere in the light. And yet, she knew her friend was there. She was starting to get wise to this place and the kind of magic she was dealing with. It was playing tricks on her mind.

"Yes, it is," Sorya's disembodied voice said from multiple directions. Had Vi spoken aloud? She shook her head, focusing on her steps and trusting that Sorya wouldn't lead her astray. The older girl could be snarky at times, but she would never be cruel enough to leave Vi alone in this place, or put her in any danger.

Finally, Vi stepped into an open chamber, and immediately felt a weight lift from her mind and body. Sorya had conjured three more Illuminates and sent them to rest in sconces placed along the walls. Vi could see a doorway at the opposite end of the room, but the light couldn't penetrate through it. Sorya knelt in the center, her hands on her lap, facing what looked like a headstone. Vi crept up behind her and attempted to copy her pose. Unfortunately her knees did not take kindly to that, and her butt didn't take kindly to the next pose she tried. She frowned, crossed her legs, and scooted forward. That was better, at least until her legs fell asleep.

The headstone was actually a runestone, now that Vi had a closer look. The symbols etched into the basalt seemed to follow a geometric pattern, but trying to trace it with her eyes made Vi dizzy, and she didn't dare touch the thing. Burying her consternation, she huffed and waited for Sorya to speak up about what was going on.

"This is what is known as an Etherik Riddle," Sorya intoned after an uncomfortably long silence during which Vi's legs did, indeed, fall asleep. "It comes in two parts. The first provides you with a tool, usually a basic spell. In this case, Illuminate. The second requires you to utilize that tool to solve the riddle."

Vi's eye twitched. "That sounds way too complicated. Can't you just teach me?"

"This is me teaching you," said Sorya with the patience of a saint. "I'm here to provide context to what you feel, or answer your questions about the nature of Etherik. Even if I told you everything you'll need to do and why, none of it would make sense until you experience it for yourself."

Sorya extended a hand toward the runestone. "Etherik Riddles are a tradition thousands of years old. At the end of this hall is a sarcophagus containing the body of one of our greatest mages, Ruthik the Bright. No one has attained the same level of mastery with light spells, and even today his greatest spell awaits a worthy successor, somewhere in there." She swept her hand in the direction of the far passage. "No one knows how many Riddles are down here; even Avri has only managed to reach the eighth stone. I hear he's even learned the spell, but the answer to the Riddle has evaded him for sixteen years now."

Avri didn't come across as a powerful mage, but Vi was beginning to learn there was a lot more to the old man than he let on. He wasn't just some abbot at a podunk temple. Gods didn't invite people that like that to parties. Groaning with effort, Vi stood on unsteady legs and tried to shake them out, ignoring the way her thighs jiggled in her robe, and the almost painful tingle that shot through her nerves.

"Okay," she said to herself. "I guess it's time to see if I can even do one."