Theurgy: The Journey's Dawn (Book One)

Chapter 62 The Godslayers

Lyse felt like he was dead. That was the first thought. Even though he knew that this world was immaterial, the pain in all of his extremities was blaring and obvious once realized. The last he remembered, Hephaestus was blown to dust. They had won. He had no opportunity to build a new body, no time to resurrect his brethren in some glorious crusade in heaven. He, a simple man, had done him in. It was a powerful feeling, a massive relief. But this relief was also so brief. Because he realized quite quickly that this was not the end. He looked around at the expanse of sky that surrounded him. It had been a while, but this ever-present feeling of raw power and aura was unmistakable. The forever dawn of a nonexistent sun dotted with long and narrow clouds and the clear water-like surface reflecting the picturesque view. He was back in heaven, the apparent meeting destination for him and the gods from now on. And he was not surprised to see the proud and tall visage of the goddess looking upon him.

There was no sign of either pride or approval. No doubt she knows what he has done. But he found her ambiguity a good thing, somehow. Otherwise, he would feel even more like the lapdog he was for these beings. For now, at least. But either way, he knows the words she is to speak to him before she even spoke them.

"You have done well, young godslayer," Ergane told him. Like Hephaestus and all other times before, her voice seemed to come from everywhere within his mind. "It would appear that Hephaestus' spirit exhausted itself. Who knows what he would have done if given more time. But, he is in the past; there is much you must do, Lyse Opal."

"I know," he said. "This entire debacle had only been a distraction away from Talin and their efforts. While we made an effort cleaning up the mess of a traitor, they have been moving forward unabated, as before."

"We know," Ergane said. "And I must say first that we gods do not see the world as you humans. We still are oblivious to the dealings that Talin undergo, especially with how easily they seem to avoid godly detection. But we do fear they plan on striking fear into this new generation of godslayers before revealing their fangs. In what form that will take on, we shall only see. Nevertheless, we shall move on to the next phase in our own preparations."

"That being?"

The goddess raised her hand, gesturing to the reflection of the sky. He moved over hesitantly, looking down at what she gestured towards. He looked down at his own reflection. He looked horrid, blood and wounds still unclosed and tattered beyond belief. His armor might as well be a coat with some metal bits falling off of it. He hardly recognized himself like this. He complained that he looked too young for his age, but now he looked to of aged a decade over five months. He made a promise to shave when next he has the chance. But then the image changed into a series of images that flashed about. Not the vague visions he was treated to before, but clear images like he was there himself. He was brought to a sky filled with dark clouds storming and thrashing the air, a downpour bombarded the earth. He didn't recognize the terrain, but it seemed like a marsh speckled with dozens of small lakes and the ground overrun with water. A single horse and cart traveled along, a tarp protecting whatever goods. He didn't see the driver, but the image moved inside that tarp. On a bed of hay, he saw a man lying apparently asleep He was wearing rather tattered clothes, but well kept, a sword laying next to him. His dark hair laid across his narrow face. And Lyse thought for just a moment that he recognized him somehow. Then, a name appeared into his head, almost another voice entirely voicing it: Ryan Pesmenos.

The image shifted. He was taken to the sky once more, but this night seemed clearer. He knew that it had to be Torlak when he saw floating islands drifting all around and men and women moving through the sky as effortless as birds. The land of magic and Mystics. It was a different port, but a mountain laid not too far inland. He remembered from the map that this port is called Kalmas. It was just as impressive a spread as the capital, with many tall buildings peaking all about, some detached from the ground, and a brilliant display of lights that decorated the city. As the rumors say, even this late into the night, the city still moved. Such a thing is practically unheard of by Lyse. Then again, he doubts they must worry all that much about monsters wandering in town. His vision shifted a bit inland, zipping past a thin forest and onto a well-trimmed estate or perhaps a Torlakian noble of high station. Or maybe some sort of wealthy mage. Either way, this was the home of the next person. His vision was brought just outside of a window f a balcony on the top floor of the central mansion. It was a rather lavish room, though his vision extended only so far. It mainly focused on a woman sitting at a desk right next to the window. She had a rather large set of books before her, reading something from one and transcribed it to the next one. She was young, younger than he, Lyse supposed. Long red hair braided down one shoulder, an evening gown, and a few necklaces were all she wore. And vibrant orange eyes stared intently at her work. Again, a name appeared in his mind: Diana Sol'Louché.