All were quiet for a few moments, taking in what Seth had revealed about himself. Ashton was the first to speak. “That’s awfully sacrificial of you, Seth.”
Seth refused to respond, still consumed in thought. It was Garret who spoke next.
“How so Ashton?” he asked as his face puckered up in deep concentration.
“Well,” Ashton answered. “You are willing to sacrifice your life to the kingdom by dying in battle. I am willing to sacrifice my own life to save another. Seth is willing to sacrifice happiness, to bear the burden of the kingdom’s failures, the burden of families’ losses, the burden of broken hearts and anguished lovers. Seth is willing to sacrifice himself over and over, while we are willing to do it once.”
Seth spoke then in a low voice, trying not to let Ashton’s words sink in.
“Let’s get some sleep guys. If we pick up the pace a bit tomorrow, we should be able to reach Stone Haven by the evening.”
Seth immediately lay down on half his blanket, covering himself with the other half and rolling over to face away from his brother and new friend. He hadn’t said that much to them about his thoughts about The Choosing, and yet Ashton had seen right through his vagueness and read what his soul felt. What his mind was loathed to reveal.
Rolling over again, Seth watched as Ashton looked at Garret questioningly and Garret shrugged his large shoulders in response. They too then lay down, covering themselves against the cool night air, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Seth lay awake a while listening to Ashton’s words playing over and over again in his head. He had never thought of his choice as being self-sacrificial. Still it was hard for him to imagine it as a sacrifice, trying to help those that had truly sacrificed the most. It simply felt to him a worthy cause, helping others heal their souls, not their bodies. Bringing closure to the bereaved seemed like the right thing to do.
Seth lay pondering his choices until he heard his brother’s light snoring, as well as Ashton’s quiet, even breathing. Knowing that there would be no more conversation tonight, he relaxed his hold on consciousness and let his mind drift wherever it might go. The last thing Seth saw before he was lost to darkness was an image of his mother smiling at him with that concerned look in her eyes.
CHAPTER 7
Garret
Garret was the first to stir. Sitting up quickly, as was his habit at home, he smashed his face into a low hanging root, abruptly scaring himself wide awake enough to yell at the top of his enormously loud lungs, startling his brother and Ashton awake as well. He vaguely noted as Seth quickly got his bearings and then sat up, scrutinizing his surroundings for whatever danger had caused him to cry out. Nothing found, Seth looked at him, seeing the root directly in front of Garret’s face which was filled with rage as he snarled at it. Though Garret was both infuriated and embarrassed, Seth apparently surmised that there was nothing to worry about.
Ashton sat upon his bed of fur looking at Garret like he was an unworldly creature, unleashed to disrupt the peaceful sleep of others. Seth, glancing from his brother’s face to Ashton’s, starting laughing loudly, causing both his companions to look at him, Garret still with a face of half rage, and Ashton in questioning wonder. Seth just shrugged his shoulders at them, then, with a smile still on his lips, climbed out of their shelter and stood to stretch. Garret too began to emerge, giving his nemesis, the evil root, one last menacing glare as he crawled out to join his brother. Ashton and Garret cleared the cover of their shelter at the same time and echoed Seth’s stretches with their own.
“Eat now or later?” Ashton asked the brothers, willing to follow their lead.
“Well, I could definitely eat now,” Garret replied and walked back to the fallen tree to retrieve his pack.
“Good enough for me,” Ashton replied. Then he and Seth both went to gather up their packs as well.
The three boys sat outside the pit that was created by the tree’s upheaval. They sprawled themselves out in a rough semi-circle, their packs in their laps, and each pulled out a little something to eat. They ate in silence, though Garret caught Seth smiling at him, probably thinking about his early morning battle with the root. Catching the little secret humor, Ashton looking at him and then Seth before he too began smiling. Garret doubted he would live down being attacked by a tree anytime soon. Even so, the morning meal went off without a hitch. Soon they had their bedrolls back in their packs and their packs on their shoulders, ready to go.
The day passed by quickly filled with small talk, all three of them avoiding any further discussion of The Choosing. The trail was easy, winding forever downhill. The large pines that made up the forest began to give way to oaks and elms. Fewer leaves had fallen at this lower altitude so it almost appeared to the boys that they were walking back in time from fall into summer, though the occasional brisk breeze at their backs told a different story. It was after they had hit the trail again after stopping for lunch that one of Garret’s questions spurred a lengthy tutorial from Ashton.
“Well, let me think,” Ashton commenced. “There used to be dozens of gods that people from all the races of man worshipped. Most of them are now forgotten or dead I assume.”
“Wait, hold up.” Garret stopped him in his tracks. “How is it that a god, something all powerful, could be dead?”
“Good question,” nodded Ashton. “Sorry I didn’t think about elaborating on it, but I will. It is believed that a god can only exist a short while without worshippers, though none can prove it. It kind of makes sense if you think about it. If a god holds the power to alter men’s existence, then to balance it out shouldn’t men hold the power to alter a god’s existence? Like I said, it can’t be proved of course, but with wars lands are taken over, and under new rulership laws are set in place outlawing worship of a certain god.
Time passes and so too the knowledge of that god. Even the memory of it passes, then when no one is left to worship the god supposedly he or she vanishes. At least, that is what some of the scholars think. My mom told me about it. Anyhow, back to your original question, how many gods, who worships them and what does it entail? Well, to be honest, I don’t think I can completely answer your question, Garret. I have a limited knowledge of most of the gods that are openly worshipped besides my own, and even less knowledge of the few gods who are not openly worshipped, yet still have a few followers. But in any case, I will try to tell you what I can of those I know, if that will do?”
Garret simply nodded in response and so Ashton continued.
“Well, first and foremost is Lorentia. She is widely accepted as the goddess of healing and nurturing. Seeing that most of us with a gift for healing come to worship her and heal in her name, it is thought that we, her followers, have a gift for magic, but through us she channels healing powers to restore the wounded or dying. Most of us pray to her, at least my family does, even my father who doesn’t have the gift, though he knows firsthand of its power.
Let’s see, I guess next, and of special interest to you, would be Gorandor. As I said last night, he is the god of honor and valor. Mostly warriors worship Gorandor, and nearly all of his followers are human, elf or dwarf, though some other races probably make up a small amount. It is said that of his followers, only those with a pure heart and pure intentions are blessed with his gifts. There are a few of his gifted followers in Valdadore so I won’t spoil the surprise for you. You will know them when you see them, I promise. I don’t really know how his followers carry out their beliefs, though. I assume they pray to him as well.
Next on the list, and who may also be of interest to you is Vikstol, the god of battle. Now this one is a bit trickier, I think. Most warriors, if not all of them, give their spiritual allegiance to Vikstol. Not because he gives them wondrous powers, or grants them wishes or anything, but because he is supposedly the god who controls the outcome of every battle. It is believed that he is the difference between you dying from a single shot from an arrow, or you taking the impact of twenty arrows and still
living long enough to slay the man holding the bow. Most followers of Gorandor who do not receive his gifts drift off to worship Vikstol instead. I do know that before a battle Vikstol’s followers will pray to him, and some of them that still carry on old traditions will often make a sacrifice in his honor.”
Garret nodded and Ashton continued.
“Another god would be Valonore, the god of nature. He is the god of the green-robed Druids you are sure to see around Valdadore. Druids use earthly magics to create natural things. It is said they can sculpt plants, animals, even stone and earth with their thoughts. Oh, and most ranger types, you know trackers, worship him as well. They say the more talented ones can follow a year-old trail buried beneath desert sands if given the gift of magical sight by their god. But who knows?
Let’s see...there is also Saranadia, the goddess of defensive magic, though from my understanding not many people worship her anymore, most preferring offensive magic. But through worship of Saranadia followers often gain the ability to shield themselves from nearly every type of harm. The most powerful of her followers were said to have been able to protect entire regiments of the king’s army. I don’t think any are currently alive still that can do that. Hmm, who have I missed…?
Oh yes, Zeranthil the mighty god of offensive magic. He has many, many followers and all of them wear the red robes of his order of mages, all with the gift of magic of course. He cannot give his blessings to those who do not already possess the gift. He gives his blessing in varying degrees. Those who worship the greatest and sacrifice the most of themselves to him wield his most powerful blessings.
Then there is Ximlin, the dwarven god of stone and steel. Ximlin has blessed the entire race of dwarves with the ability to create the most wondrous items with those elements. It is said he is very particular to dwarves, but my mom once said that on occasion he chooses a member of another race to bless with his gifts if they are worthy. Who does that leave?” Ashton questioned himself. He thought about it a moment and started again.
“I think that just about covers all the gods still openly worshipped among men today, but there are a few that I don’t really know much about that some still worship. There is Gompidil worshipped by gnomes as the god of inventiveness. Mind you, almost every gnome that I have heard of who worshipped Gompidil and invented something truly amazing died shortly after unveiling his creation.
Then there is Ishanya, a goddess believed to be the goddess of lost souls, though some called her the goddess of hope a long time ago. It was said that she sometimes granted her worshippers either great magics or great speed and strength. Warriors who followed her and had her blessing fought with unimaginable fury and unbelievable speed. They were once called berserkers, though it is widely thought that no more exist. Followers of hers who possessed the gift of magic were said to hold the powers of life and death within their hands, killing with a word, reviving a fallen comrade with another. Most people today think these are just old legends as not a single person with her blessing has been seen in hundreds of years if the histories aren’t mistaken. However, I believe there is still a temple for her somewhere in the older part of Valdadore.”
Looking towards his feet and closing his eyes, Ashton thought briefly once more.
“That leaves Dazilen, the patron god of thieves and assassins. Good luck finding his temples as they are all very well hidden. His blessings to my knowledge haven't even been revealed to anyone outside his worship. Perhaps those gifted by him are sworn to secrecy, though no one even knows if he is a real god or actually gives his blessing to any of his followers without even a shred of proof. There. I think that does it, at least as best as I can answer your question. I’m sure there are a couple I am forgetting, probably even some I haven’t heard of considering that the orcs, ogres and trolls all retain some of their old gods, as do the elves, centaurs and minotaurs.”
Garret stared at Ashton in disbelief, and looking to his left he could see his own thoughts reflected on the face of his twin. Not because they didn’t believe his words, but because his words were so hard to digest. They had heard mention of many of the gods through stories from travelers at the inn in the past, even heard tales of all the other races of man that walked Thurr. But what completely caught Garret off guard was the fact that he had written them off as simple stories. As tall tales, created to catch the imagination of young children to keep them from wandering off into the woods, or go out playing in the dark. As far as they knew, James and their mother had never served the kingdom, not out of any fear or any misguided feelings toward it, but simply because they were raised so far from the kingdom. James hadn’t even known about The Choosing until he and Cassandra had moved to Vineleaf shortly before the boys’ birth. The twins knew dwarves and elves were real, even orcs and goblins, but centaurs, ogres, trolls and minotaurs too? It was a bit much. Next Ashton would be telling them that dragons and unicorns were real too! It took a few minutes for the twins to regain their composure and realize that they had stopped walking to listen, then a moment longer to close their mouths, still open in disbelief.
After they had been traveling again for several hours, Garret peered off into the distance and seeing something the others hadn’t yet noticed, said, “Good we made it," more to himself than anything. Then he continued with, “Look out through the trees, you can see roofs.”
Sure enough, past the trees and a few rolling fields beyond they could indeed see the roofs of Stone Haven. They picked up their pace. It was not long before they broke through the last of the trees into the open fields surrounding the small town.
Evening was upon the trio as they passed through the fields at a quickened pace, every step bringing them closer to the town.
Stone Haven had once been a stone quarry. Not just any quarry, it was the quarry that mined the stone to build the city of Valdadore itself. Here the Glorian River meandered close enough to the large deposit of granite so that the cut stone could be sent on rafts down the river to where the city was built. This was no longer the case, however. The stone, all mined out, was a distant memory of the inhabitants of the town. It was nearly five generations ago that the capital city was erected. Now the town thrived much like Vineleaf, relying on travelers to buy goods, rent rooms, pay for female company or have a drink at the tavern. It was a shell of a town, with people constantly moving away while others constantly moved in to take their place. More or less Stone Haven was just a stepping stone for people trying to move closer to or farther from Valdadore.
The trio came upon the first homes as the sun began to set upon the western horizon. The houses here were monstrous, foreboding structures. Made of the dark stone that was once the reason for the town’s existence, and packed closely together, the town induced a feeling of unwelcome. Stone Haven appeared to be built in rings, cut down the center with one main road. The first inhabitants here had built the innermost ring, and those coming to mine for the kingdom continued to build out from the original dwellings, starting a new ring when the previous one was full. It was a thoughtful design really. Everyone had easy access to the central parts of the town, where surely the market stalls, stores and inn would be.
The boys each thought their own version of this conclusion as they made their way down a narrow alley, working towards the main road that ran east to west through the town. Most of the buildings in the outermost ring were boarded up, some of them in disrepair. Occasionally the trio would catch sight of a person rounding a corner, or darting down a side street, but with the fading light it was hard to make out what the residents looked like. So the boys marched on straight towards the center of town, each hoping their assumptions were correct and they would find people here. Sure as the sun would shine tomorrow, the closer they neared the town’s center, the louder the atmosphere became. They could hear haughty laughter, music playing and the occasional garbled yell of someone obviously drunk. Ahead on the right side of the road was a tavern, very brightly lit. Its stone walls were gaudily painted in bright or
ange. Just past that was an inn. The inn had the bare stone walls that most of the town shared. It was a long, sprawling building that upon further investigation revealed itself as actually several buildings that had been conjoined with stone hallways adding to its rooms.
Across the street from the tavern sat a large three-story building, dimly lit and smelling of incense. The windows were all curtained in red, and the boys discovered that this was where the music came from. Approaching the broad doorway the trio was quick to discover a sign beside it proclaiming the building to be a brothel. Next to the brothel, across the street from the inn, were several small buildings and stalls. This was where the traders would set up their wares to sell, but of course at this hour they had all packed up and gone home.
The boys stood in the middle of the road looking around, if not somewhat nervously, than at least undecided. Garret’s eyes kept flickering to the brothel, and Seth couldn’t help but to slug him in the shoulder and laugh at him. Ashton caught the meaning and laughed as well. They stood there a minute longer surveying their surroundings, deciding independently if it would be safer to stay within the town or to continue through it and find a place to shelter for the night then return in the morning.
“Seems safe enough,” Seth was saying, almost to himself, before adding for everyone’s benefit, “If the inside walls are stone, too, one of us could sleep against the door to be sure no one comes in while we sleep.”
Seeming a brilliant idea, the three marched off towards the inn, Seth and Ashton looking around warily and Garret glancing back to the brothel longingly. Oh, the things money could buy!
They came to the inn door and could hear from inside many muted voices in relaxed conversations. Light streamed around the poorly fitted door and from two oversized windows, one to each side of it. Above the door a sign danced in the slight evening breeze, marking this as the Sunrise Inn. The boys gave one another a nod of approval before pulling the door open. Garret placed his hand on the handle and gave it a sharp tug. Nothing happened. Thinking it stuck, Seth too took hold of the handle and the two large boys pulled in unison to no avail. Looking at each other in defeat, they shrugged their shoulders in acceptance and turned as if to leave. Ashton reached one of his slender hands up to the door. The twins paused to watch what would presumably be another failed attempt at dislodging the door. Ashton gave it a light push, not a pull, and the door swung effortlessly, silently open on its hinges. Ashton smiled at them as the twins’ faces flushed in embarrassment.
Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 5
