The group traveled on for a few more hours. Once they reached the road, they realized it was a bit after noon. There was consensus that they should stop for lunch. Deacon pulled out the chairs he’s been keeping in his bag, so everyone didn’t have to sit on the ground. Genevieve appreciated this gesture and sat down next to Deacon.

“Is now a good time for the message?” She asked.

“Yea I’d say now is good. I assume its super special.” Deacon said with a smirk.

“You have quite the flippant tongue. I would mind your manners where deities are concerned.” She said.

“Message received.” Deacon replied.

“That wasn’t the message.” Genevieve said with a concerned look on her face.

“I’m just messing with you. Ok I’m ready. Lay it on me.” Deacon said.

Genevieve’s eyes began to glow with a soft white light. When she opened her mouth, the sound was otherworldly yet kind and soothing. Deacon even heard a slight echo behind the words.

“Deacon, Champion of Cheshire, I speak these truths to you. Avoid the garden. Fear not the darkness. Seek answers within. So sayeth Astrael God of Light and Life.” Said Astrael through Genevieve.

As she finished speaking the light dimmed and she collected herself after going stiff channeling her god. Deacon looked around at the others, once again their eyes were popping out of their heads and mouths were agape. Typhus lost a piece of the ration he was chewing as he stared at the two of them.

“Come on guys, you have to be getting used to this kind of thing by now.” Deacon said.

“Did you just channel Astrael?” Elle asked.

“I allowed her light to fill me, and she blessed us with knowledge. May her light always scatter the darkness.” Genevieve said.

“That’s two deities in the last two days!” Typhus exclaimed.

“Calm down. I don’t lose my mind every time I get a message from Cheshire.” Deacon replied.

“You get slate messages from Cheshire!?” Typhus said as he hopped off the chair.

“Hello, champion.” Deacon said pointing to himself.

“What words does Cheshire give you?” Genevieve asked.

“He mostly tells me I’m dumb and asks questions about his sister.” Deacon said.

“Which one?” Genevieve asked.

“Bael.” Deacon said absent mindedly scratching his blessed shoulder.

“Bael. The God of Death.” Genevieve said with a look of disbelief.

“Yea, she helped with the whole ritual thing. I’m pretty sure if she didn’t show up horrible things would have poured out of the hell portals that opened on top of the ziggurat.” Deacon explained.

“Bael and hell portals? How many portals?” She asked with a bead of sweat rolling off her head.

“Ten. One for every stone up there. I only really looked at three of them before I went to my happy place. I do not want to do that again.” Deacon said with some finality.

“Wait you never told us this. What happened up there? Is that how we all got these blessings?” Armand asked while leaning deeper into their little circle.

“Well, she showed up and explained Arcane power to me. Now that I think about it that took my mind off the portals. She also mentioned something about her being the only thing keeping the portals entrance only. We should all probably thank her for that.” Deacon said.

“Wait she touched you and you didn’t die?” Genevieve asked.

“No…is that what’s supposed to happen? I thought that was only a reaper thing.” Deacon said.

“She’s the damned queen of the reapers.” Typhus scoffed.

“Well, you guys didn’t die either.” Deacon replied.

“That is true. My mark is a little circle above my heart.” Armand said.

“What? Mine is a small dagger on my collar bone.” Typhus replied.

“That’s odd, mine looks like an arrow on my wrist.” Elle said.

“Mine is a hand print on my shoulder.” Deacon said as he moved his shirt out of the way, “I wonder why they are all different.”

“Well, the scripture states that the touch of any god is a blessing. I just never thought they included Bael in that.” Genevieve explained.

“But why are they different?” Typhus asked.

“They must be meaningful to you or her. Time will tell. Do they do anything or are they just decorative?” She asked.

“It grants an undead sense up to 20 feet and a Death Tax. I think its another pun, they keep giving me jokey names for everything.” Deacon said.

“What do you mean?” Elle asked.

“Well back in my world they always say the only guarantees in life are death and taxes.” Deacon responded.

“That’s pretty morbid.” Armand said.

“Very true.” Typhus replied.

“That is an overly grim way of looking at the glorious life we’ve all been given.” Genevieve countered.

Just then an arrow came flying out of the woods behind them smacking into the back of Deacons head. It sent him tumbling off his chair and to the ground. In an instant Armand was standing over him, shield out and facing the direction the arrow came from. Typhus dove into the shadows while Elle nocked an arrow and scanned the tree line across the road. Another arrow came flying across the gap and slammed into Armand’s shield.

“Genevieve, get behind Deacon.” Armand shouted.

“I count three.” Elle said as she loosed an arrow.

“But what if Deacon is hurt. Shouldn’t I try to…” Genevieve didn’t finish as Deacon staggered up to his feet.

“Ok who shot me and why?” Deacon said looking every bit as pissed off as he sounded.

“Just keep her safe incase they rush us.” Armand said.

Two men in chain mail armor appeared on the other side of the road. They had the heraldry of the Empire of Vasilly. Armand gritted his teeth and stomped forward. Elle fired at the one on the left scoring a hit just above his knee. As he cried out Armand took the initiative to charge at the one on the right. Deacon stood firm in front of Genevieve, eyes roaming the tree line for the shooter. He caught a glint of light off some metal and pointed.

“He’s over there in the tree with the orange leaves.” Cried Deacon.

Elle focused her willpower and vines started to wrap up the soldier in the tree. Armand exchanged some blows with solider he was fighting while the injured soldier started crawling over to him hoping to hamstring Armand while he fought. Deacon wasn’t having any of the that and shot forward to put boot to assess. Deacon performed a picture-perfect baseball slide right into the soldier's ribs. He heard a satisfying crack as his foot made contact. That was the point the solider dropped his sword and attempted to curl up into a defensive ball. With one arrow in his leg and what appeared to be several broken ribs fighting was not an option. Deacon popped up and prepared to curb stomp him when Elle yelled at him to stop. Armand had finished off his opponent with a vicious slash that opened his jugular. A scream could be heard from tree with the archer in it. Everyone assumed Typhus had found his prey.

“We need him alive for questioning.” Elle said as she sidled up to Deacon.

“These pricks just tried to kill me, and you want to squeeze him for info?” Deacon asked.

“These are Vasilly scouts. Deacon that means the enemy is several hours away from Iron Mountain Plateau. This should not be possible. They may have mistaken our little camp site for a guard force. We must hurry back.” Armand said slightly out of breath.

“You all ever notice how Deacon never seems winded or tired after a battle?” Typhus said as he walked up cleaning blood off his blades.

“No time for your Deacon conspiracies Ty, Elle we need to tie him up.” Armand said.

“Wait, what Deacon conspiracies?” Deacon asked.

“No bantering. Focus.” Elle snapped.

“Um, Excuse me. Do you all know what this is?” Genevieve asked from their camp site.

Genevieve pointed to her left where a floral archway stood. Through the archway you could see a bright sunlit path with cobble stones and what looked like a hedge wall. If you walked around the archway and looked behind it all you could see was more forest but through the arch was a picturesque landscape. Elle screamed at the top of her lungs upon seeing it.

“Genevieve, I need you to come over to us very quickly. Don’t argue just move.” Armand said in a calm voice. Genevieve did so.

“What in the ten hells is Philo’s Wandering Maze doing here?” Typhus said.

“The what?” Deacon asked.

“It is a legend. The elf wizard Philo built a hedge maze to keep people away from his magic experiments. It’s said that it soaked up so much elemental magic that it became a dungeon and Philo’s tomb. You see it wouldn’t let him leave. Legend states that doorways appear randomly around the world but no one I know has ever seen one. It’s supposed to contain untold riches and magics lost to this world.” Elle explained.

“We’re already a little busy maybe we can table the magic door for another time?” Deacon asked and noticed the captured soldier inching away into the woods in the opposite direction of the arch. He ran over and tossed him back on the road.

“Why here? Why now?” Armand asked.

“Doesn’t this thing have another name?” Typhus asked with a serious look on his face.

“Yes, the Violent Garden.” Armand said.