Chapter 14: Blood Money

In Defense of a Dual Monarchy

Ruling over a grand kingdom has overall been regarded as an astronomical undertaking. Between creating and enforcing policies, overseeing military functions, and mediating squabbles between lesser nobles, it's no wonder that the life of a monarch is often a short and sleepless one.

Never mind the constant threat of assassination attempts.

It was the kingdom of Elyhr that came up with a revolutionary answer: a dual monarchy.

Two brothers were crowned: one to govern the night, and one to stand fast against the perils of the day. While policies may differ depending on the position of the sun, the kingdom is no longer in turmoil. The dual monarchy never sleeps. Glory to Elyhr!

-excerpt from On Provincial Governance, vol. ii.

“But really, though,” Emi insisted once the elevator finally ground to a halt, “what did you do? And are you really checking your quest completion right now? Don't think I don't see that glazed look on your face!”

“Wouldn't you?” Zed shot back. “If you were going to receive a divine blessing from your goddess as a quest reward, wouldn't you want to know what it was immediately?”

Seemingly unable to make a convincing rebuttal, the priestess crossed her arms in front of her body and glowered. She was almost comically impatient for someone who had been alive a couple thousand or so years. Grinning, he willed the quest completion window back into existence.

(!) Final Judgment (Complete)

Objective: Solve the first trial room in the Ebonblade Catacombs. (Solo)

Reward: Receive the divine goddess Edall's blessing.

[COMPLETE]

No sooner had Zed mentally confirmed the quest's completion that another quest notification popped up. His devious grin fell as he read:

Divine Quest Received:

(!) Final Judgment pt. 2

Objective: Solve the second trial room in the Ebonblade Catacombs. (Solo)

Reward: Receive the divine goddess Edall's blessing.

Part two? It's a fucking chain quest!

“Of course it is,” Zed mumbled under his breath, dismissing the quest window.

“Something wrong?”

“I don't suppose you might tell me how many trial rooms are in the Catacombs?” he asked the priestess with a sidelong glance. “Never mind. Can I ask you a question?”

The elevator had transported them to the entrance of yet another grand room. Squinting, he was barely able to make out a series of columns within the darkened chamber. The walls disappeared into shadow. Whether that was due to the scale of the room or the utter lack of light here, Zed wasn't sure. He stepped off the elevator platform and turned to extend a hand to Emi. She raised a quizzical eyebrow at the act but took the proffered hand and disembarked.

“It's just... I don't disagree with getting revenge on these... things... that killed your men,” he said as the priestess passed, taking the lead. “They're savage, yeah, and they deserve it. But why all the heavy emphasis on 'an eye for an eye' all the time? You're always going on about justice, judgments, revenge... it seems a little much sometimes.”

A series of dim lights flickered to life at their approach, distracting them from their conversation. It wasn't so much the darkness that put Zed on edge; the problem was the color. A familiar living blue glow emanated from two rows of four columns arranged on either side of a central tile walkway. This walkway culminated in a large statue of a woman at the far end of the chamber. He stared hard at the columns, but nothing stirred. He shook his head; sometimes light was just that. Light.

“Sorry, I'm really starting to hate that color,” he said by way of an explanation. “Anyway. Why do you follow this goddess? Why have you devoted your entire life to her?”

Now it was Emi's turn to echo Zed's faraway look. “I'm... not sure I understand,” she said slowly, her ears drooping ever so slightly. “Is it not natural for a priestess to follow the divine teachings of her goddess?”

“No. I mean, yeah. I guess? But didn't you ever want to do... something else? Be something else?”

The priestess stopped so suddenly, Zed nearly walked into her. She turned back to him, eyes wide and questioning.

“Like what? I was born into my class, just like everyone else. It would be strange to fight against one's destiny, wouldn't it? Sure, it happens sometimes, but those who follow other pursuits... well, they're a rather odd sort.”

“Oh...” Zed was at a loss. Denizens of this other world couldn't add or change their class?

“Besides, it's not like I'm just following along blindly,” Emi continued, her ears perking up and eyes blazing. “I may have been born a priestess, but make no mistake: I forge my own destiny.”

Isn't that an oxymoron?

“There are two major deities: Edall, and Nodon,” she explained. “And two very differing houses of worship dedicated to the goddess or god. Edall is the Goddess of Justice, and Nodon is the God of Growth.” She gave him a significant look.

“I'm not sure I follow...” Zed scratched at one of his horns. “It seems like one hell of a contradiction for an elf to worship a Goddess of Justice over a God of Growth. Not interested in communing with the trees or wildlife or whatever?”

Emi scoffed at his expression. “You seem to forget, Zed, that one of my life quests was to find the Dark Hero. You. In all of recorded history, there has never been a hero associated with Nodon. Not one. I played the odds, and made a very deliberate choice.”

“Huh. Never really considered that before. Or, rather, I guess I never asked. Let's get this over with.” He glanced back at Emi, who nodded. She retreated a respectful distance and turned her back to him, ever vigilant.

Taking a deep breath, he approached the first pair of columns, regarding them warily.

No funny business this time, I'm warning you.

Zed was immediately drawn to a glint of gold coming from the first column. Strange, a coin was set into a niche there, right at chest level. There was something engraved on the surface; he traced his fingers over the faded etching, forming the letter 'O' . Were the rest marked as well? He approached the second column, squinting his eyes against the eerie blue glow shining brightly around the circumference of the coin.

“A lowercase 'L'? No, that's not right,” he mumbled. A wave of frustration washed over him as he retraced the ancient script. “It's not a letter; it's a number. This is column number one. And that wasn't an 'O', it was a zero. And the one behind this one is... '3'.”

Zero. Zed. Nothing. Just like you, jackass.

“They look almost like runes,” he said, scratching at his horns once more. “But it's obvious they're numbered individually. Odd numbers on the left, even on the right. The real question is, why? Someone has the answers, and I'm betting it's you.”

He leveled his gaze on the statue. This, like every statue that came before, was the textbook definition of opulence. It stood at an impressive five meters tall with long, flowing robes of granite. Its arms were spread wide, with an ornate shortsword in its right hand, and a tarnished set of scales in its left. The head was held high and proud, almost haughty.

As he approached, it became apparent that this was meant to depict the goddess Edall. Or perhaps it was an avatar of hers? He wasn't too sure about that; up until now the only depictions Zed had seen of holy figures here had been, well, abstract. And that was putting it nicely. This one, though...

Like many things he had encountered deep within the Catacombs, something was profoundly wrong with the statue before him. Though he was certain this statue wouldn't come to life, there was something unsettling about the hair and robes... if he glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, they seemed to blur and undulate. Inviting him closer. An offering plate rested at the base of the plinth.

“Hey Emi!” he called out, “what would be a customary offering for Edall?”

“When in doubt, the answer is always blood,” came the ever-helpful reply. “Why?”

Zed sighed. “Of course it is. Garrote Thread.”

Staring off at the oddly mirrored surface of the plate, he summoned a length of the nearly invisible razor wire and gripped it tightly. The loop bit deeply into the flesh of his palm, drawing a bead of blood before vanishing. He grimaced.

How distasteful.

Leaning forward, Zed made a fist and squeezed. Several drops of red fell, staining the plate. He sat back on his heels and staunched the flow with the bottom edge of his shirt as he waited. And waited. And waited.

“Exactly how much of a blood offering is required?” he growled in irritation after a few minutes. He turned back to Emi. He couldn't see her, but he sensed her presence in the shadows. “I'm not about to go full-on seppuku here!”

“I don't know,” she said slowly, stepping out from the shadows. “I was never able to get past trying to decipher the runes. What's seppuku?”

Zed opened and closed his mouth several times, trying and failing to come up with a response. A sudden, strange noise startled the pair and saved him the trouble. It sounded almost like a high pitched grinding or sanding. And it was coming from the statue.

He whirled around; much to his shock, a message was engraving itself into the plinth right before his eyes. No, not a message. It was a question.

WHAT WILL JUSTICE ALWAYS SEE THROUGH?

“What will justice see through?” he echoed. “What is this, some kind of demented game show? And my clues are numerical columns? Puzzle games aren't really my thing.”

He stared hard at the question for a minute or two, as if daring it to come up with something a little less obtuse. Finally, frustrated, Zed flopped over on his back and glared at the now upside down columns. He expelled the air from his lungs through his nose; it wasn't worth getting this worked up. This would probably be a while. His mind completely blank, he let his eyes drift in and out of focus. 7... 5... 3...

L...

“No,” he breathed, refocusing. “You have got to be joking. Absolutely not.”

He sat up so suddenly, almost angrily, that he gave himself a healthy dose of vertigo. Not to be deterred, he scrambled to his feet and fell into the first column he saw, '6'.

“No, not you.” He turned on his heel and shook his head, clearing it. “You!”

Digging his fingers into the opposing column, he ripped the '7' coin from its niche, smearing it with a bit of half-congealed blood. He moved down the row, tearing all the coins from the odd-numbered columns. Almost like a man possessed. He stomped back down the central walkway, turning the coins over in his hands. Belatedly, he noticed that the reverse side of the coins matched up with the coins from the previous trial room.

His confidence soared. Yes, this was the right answer.

“–talking to you! HEY!” Zed waved Emi down as he passed, dismissing her protests.

“Watch. Just watch,” he instructed. Then he started mumbling, almost to himself. “This is stupid. Totally, entirely, completely stupid.”

Squashing the sickening feeling he got from looking at the statue too closely, he crashed to his knees at the end of the walkway and dumped the coins into the offering plate. After a few moments of arranging the coins he turned the plate to face the statue and stood back, admiring his handiwork.

5 3 1 7

Emi cocked her head to one side, her ears drooping a little. “I don't understand,” she murmured. “What is this?”

“Five, three, one, seven,” he smirked. “Turn your head. Or, if you look at the reflection, seven, one, three, five. What will justice always see through? LIES.”

Zed heard two clicks. The first, from an unseen lock just behind the statue. And the second, from Emi's jaw as her mouth fell open.