"Ah, brother. I am the head priest of this church. I am known as Heralt." He took a breath then smiled beatifically. "Long has it been since I have seen a brother of the twilight. Tell me, what brings you to this land and this shelter?"
"I am in this land searching for a means of improving myself, brother. Sadly, I am in this shelter to bring this child to his mother." said Scott.
The head priest glanced to the burden in Scott's arms then inclined his head. "It is always the youngest among us who suffer most in times of war."
Scott nodded. He was not certain what else to say on the matter.
"Twilight brother, do you know the name of this child's mother?" asked the priest.
"No, but his name is Jimothy. Here, have a look at this." Scott gently laid the boy's body atop a nearby table then then pulled out the mission briefing.
The priests' bushy eyebrows rose once more. "Brother... You directly received a prayer request from our great goddess, Origin?"
"Seems so." said Scott in a non-committal manner. He received no useful additional information on the subject and did not want to lie to the man.
The head priest. Closed his eyes then sighed softly. "Jimothy. I know of only one who lives in this neighborhood. He is a small boy, quite rambunctious. He is his mother's heart and her bane."
Scott nodded his head. "I heard him cry out, but I arrived too late to do anything but avenge his death."
"That is a sad tale told many times tonight brother. At least this time there is a happy ending." said the elder.
Normally, such a statement would seem bizarre. In this instance, it was the truth. The head priest was one of the few people in the city capable of greater resurrection. Scott helped the elder to prepare the body of the boy. Neither man wanted to gaze long upon the corpse, nor the ruination caused by the monsters that stomped through the streets.
The elder began to make large sweeping gestures with his hands. He whispered soft words that Scott could barely hear, but made the various pieces of the body on the table begin to shimmer and shake. Soon they appeared to melt into a puddle. It was both immanently fascinating and entirely disgusting to witness.
Where once there had been several dozen chunks of unfortunate Jimothy, there was now a rapidly congealing puddle of Jimothy goo. More words of power were spoken. The goo flowed together into a singular mound and then began to spread outward once more.
Scott watched as the head priest commanded the goo to take on the form of the boy that it had once been. The process stopped there for a time and the priest stepped back, exhausted.
"Now we must wait a short time, brother. The genetic structure of the boy must settle or he will mutate uncontrollably. Such things can be fixed, but not easily."
Scott nodded as though he had understood that. "So, this is greater resurrection?"
"Yes, the second most difficult type of resurrection, and the most advanced that the gods have taught us to use directly. Only the prayer of total awakening takes more power, and it might even cost the life of the one who prays for it."
Several minutes passed in polite conversation while the elder rested. He consumed a brightly glowing vial of fluorescent blue liquid then sighed. "The Storm Tyrant has made a mess of things with his grand ambitions."
"Oh?" asked Scott. He knew nothing of the man's ambitions, but would certainly like to know more.
"Yes, how there can be such bitterness in the heart of one so young is beyond me. It is not like he was destined to be the Valkovian emperor. He was the youngest of twelve." said the priest with a sigh.
"Thunder Reign..." mumbled Scott purposefully. He spoke the word as though he considered something, but what he was really attempting to do was coax the old man into explaining what Thunder Reign actually was.
"Oh yes, Thunder Reign indeed. Without that divine beast summons he would not be a true threat to the crown. I'm still not certain how a human, one who had never been trained as a summoner to my knowledge, could summon a beast of that magnitude without killing himself."
Scott filed that tidbit of knowledge away. He had wondered about the creature he occasionally saw in the flash of lightning. It was a great bird much like the ancient Quetzalcoatl from meso-american mythology and lore. The great thunder bird that controlled lightning and storms in the minds and hearts of the ancient peoples of South America.
He still did not understand how lightning could blow up a stone building, but he had decided not to question it too closely. There was probably some sort of magical ability in that lightning strike that caused explosions.
They spoke of lighter things after that for a time. The old priest asked a few questions about Scott's travels. Scott answered them as best he could. Eventually, the gelatinous goo that had once been Jimothy was ready for the next step.
"You who have fallen to the darkness both battered and torn, return thy form to that of man that your loved ones may no longer mourn." sang out the priest in a well-formed rhyme.
Scott had not heard such a succinct rhyme for a spell before. He did not use incantations, and had only heard a few spells that were actually cast via such a method. Once or twice Rhea had utilized a blade singer style song in a fight, but it had largely been unnecessary. There had also been an occasional magic-user in a town that he had heard in passing when they were wandering through the casual server.
Gelatin Jimothy shimmered and shook briefly as waves of mystical energy radiated throughout his body. With each pulse of power the corpse took on a form that was more solid and distinct. Several minutes passed as Jimothy hardened back into a little boy, and it was another few minutes before the priest was satisfied that the boy was as solid on the inside as the outside.
Bushy white eyebrows pressed together in consideration while the elder considered the next step. "He seems to have come this far well-enough. There is no hint of a curse, at least no curse at a level that would cause problems."
Another tidbit of information was filed away inside Scott's mind. There were curses that would interfere with resurrection. He had not been happy to know such a thing was possible, but he was glad to have been granted a warning about it.
Gnarled old hands waved over the body as Heralt cleansed the boy of any lingering negative status effects. Once that process was completed he sang out a short lyrical verse in a language Scott did not understand. The corpse on the table began to emit a radiant light, soon a white mist similar to a glowing fog suffused the area around the body.
As the priest chanted the light intensified but the mist diminished. Not long after it had appeared, the mist was gone. The light died away shortly after that.
Heralt sighed, exhaustion evident on his features. "It is done. The child will need to rest for at least a full day before he can undergo further healing."
He turned to Scott. "We should inform his mother."
Scott glanced down at the body and noticed that the color had returned to the body, and though hard to see Jimothy's chest did rise and fall in a shallow manner. It would be easy to miss if he did not look carefully.
"I'm curious about something, brother." said Scott.
"Yes, brother?"
"Why use greater resurrection when you could have simply brought him back in a new body?" asked Scott.
The elder nodded. "Fair question. You are not from this city so you do not know. The city defense shield interferes with simple restoration as a means of interrupting the ability of foreign powers to resurrect within the city walls. The boy would have randomly been restored at one of the holy places outside of the city. Those places are crawling with monsters."
"I see, and the body was too damaged to use lesser resurrection." said Scott thoughtfully.
The elder sighed once more, obviously tired. "Yes, that power can only be used if the body is mostly intact. A limb or two can be missing as long as the head is intact, but you saw the state of the boy."
A frown crossed the sorcerer's lips. "Now it makes sense. Those damned tin cans are deliberate
ly chopping the bodies apart."
"Of course, it's an ancient tactic of war. The more damaged the body, the harder it is to restore the life of the fallen. Simple restoration requires us to touch the body or an important piece of it at least such as the head, a major organ, or a large limb. Lesser resurrection requires a relatively intact body."
"Greater resurrection is needed for bodies that have been torn apart... What about true awakening?" asked Scott.
"Ah, now that dangerous prayer is for the fallen who have had their bodies completely destroyed by incineration, disintegration, or one who has been digested by a beast so that no large body parts remain. It can also be used if the body has not been found, though there is a greater chance that the prayer will go unanswered in that case."
"I see, so when nothing is left of the body the gods might answer an earnest prayer." said Scott.
Heralt nodded then a wry smile crossed his lips. "Unless you're a noble or well-heeled merchant in some kingdoms. There are those who hedge their bets."
"Hedge their bets?"
"Yes, they routinely have a major body part surgically removed once a year then have the missing limb regenerated. They have to spend a week or so as an invalid, but if they die they can simply be restored in town."
"Smart. Freakish, but smart." said Scott. "I assume that they preserve the limb somehow?"
"Of course. Such magical preservation lasts for several years actually, but they do this on a yearly basis so that they have a few backup limbs in different locations to prevent theft." The old man informed Scott in an amused tone of voice reminiscent of a terrible gossip.
"I'm surprised such a work around actually works." said Scott.
"It doesn't always. They hedge their bets but even simple restoration can fail. Those preserved limbs are often long removed from the body." Heralt leaned in and whispered to Scott like the next thing that he said would be a dire secret. "Their connection to the spirit of the fallen weakens and the limb is destroyed in the resurrection attempt regardless of whether it works or not. They always use the newest limb first since it has the best chance of working."
"I'll guess that doing all that is hideously expensive." said Scott.
"Oh yes, keeping a limb fresh and preserved in such a way that it will actually work requires high level magic. Those sorts of spells do not come cheap."
They were about to discuss such things further when an urgent knock came at the door. Heralt moved to the door, annoyed at the interruption.
Pieter was on the other side. Before the head priest could ask what the issue was, the younger priest blurted out. "Your eminence! The lunarii have come to the aid of the empire."
"Show me!" exclaimed Heralt with great excitement. Scott followed after them as they left the room. He was curious as well.
The four priests, and a blue haired sorcerer, gathered round the crystalline sphere. Heralt frowned then waved his hand over the top to cause the image on the surface to expand upward into an illusory image. Surprised by the contents of the imagery Scott could only look on in fascination at this world's version of a news report.
"Yes, you're seeing it live here on channel seven! The Lunarian capital ship, Golden Crescent has arrived on the scene and the paladins of Sol-Karan have taken to the battle field on their sky-cutters. No wait! They also brought the one hundred first war-mech regiment." said an anchorman who Scott could only think of as an orc. He had the tusks and brutal features one might associate with such a person.
The image on screen shifted back to the battlefield and Scott was able to see what a true battle was like on this world. Everywhere he looked there were blond haired men and women whipping through the skies on small boomerang-like objects. They hurled coherent beams of light down on the armies before them, fired off shots from large magical firearms, or swooped down and used their mighty warhammers to do incredible damage to various eldritch armor knights.
On the ground, massive armored figures that looked every bit like giant robots stomped through the area while firing off coherent beams of light or swinging huge blades that plowed through the enemy.
Magical artillery batteries from the back, it was the Valkovian military regiment survivors acting as fire support, and aimed for the thickest concentrations of the knights in opposition. On the ground all around the battle there could be seen thousands of bodies and the wreckage of hundreds of vehicles, even a few giant robot looking devices as well. The ground was stained black as the innocent earth had become soaked with the blood of the fallen.
The background music that accompanied the image was strange, but exciting. It had the blaring brass horns, orchestrated classical music with booming drums, and overall dangerous tone that one might expect. However, there was also the sound of 80s style heavy metal guitar riffs and electronic dance music mixed in like the battle was some sort of drug-induced rave. Somehow it all worked together to create a dynamic battle the likes of which Scott had never even seen on television.
"It's happening! The Lunarian capital ship is preparing to fire!" exclaimed the orc anchorman.
The gathered men watched in rapt fascination as the capital ship, a massive flying vessel shaped like a strange combination of giant glowing golden ring, and stylized wings of light that flared out and back to give the ship a crescent shape. In truth, it looked a bit like a boomerang. If the image could be believed, Scott guessed that the ring portion alone would easily have a diameter roughly the size of an aircraft carrier from Earth.
Magical energy was drawn into the center of the ring causing an extraordinarily intense light to radiate outward. Scott had his first clear glimpse of Thunder Reign as the lightning beast appeared from within the clouds and began striking down at the ship in earnest with its tremendously powerful lightning.
The wings of light that radiated outward from the central ring flared brilliantly as the lightning strike hit the previously invisible shield surrounding the core of the vessel. A brilliant golden light erupted outward as electricity arced all around the vessel.
Bright pristine light whirled within the center of the ring and more power was drawn from within the vessel and the world around it. The news anchor said something in the background about the celestial energies used by the main gun of the Golden Crescent.
Suddenly, paladins turned swiftly from the battle. Golden shields appeared around them and they placed their hands over their ears. The Valkovian army immediately began to hunker down as best they could as well.
"It's coming!" exclaimed Heralt with excitement, his eyes raptly trained on the screen before him. "The pride of our nation..."
As the light intensified at the center of the ring, a wave of pressure washed out that caused the sky to clear and the land beneath them to tremble. Eldritch armor knights caught below the ship were crushed into the dirt instantly.
"What...?" asked Dovak as he felt a minor trembling in the Earth even at this distance. A slight rattle of items on the table showed the power of what was about to be unleashed.
It was then that it happened. A brilliant flash of light, a tremendous clap of thunder, and the release of the most powerful magical attack Scott had ever seen. Energy whirled together at a single hyper-condensed point at the center of the ring. A massive blast of pure celestial mana raced outward and slammed into Thunder Reign with enough force to cause the entire city to shake once more.
The light from the attack was so intense that the men had to look away for a moment. However, the moment the anchor orc started to shout they looked back. "Crescent annihilation has done its job! Thunder Reign's immortal thunder defense field is down!"
"Damn right!" snarled Dovak as he stood up and made a fist.
Suddenly, the battle came alive again as every paladin and remaining Valkovian soldier began attacking the summoned beast in earnest. A rough half minute later the Golden Crescent began to fire intermittent beams of light that spiraled into the monster bird with great effect. Thunder Reign screamed in pain and outrage. Feathers flew
, blood poured from hundreds of minor wounds.
The beast tried to fight back with its lightning mastery, but the sheer number of attacks kept it constantly on the ropes. Without its natural defense field it was just another massively powerful monster. The individual forces arrayed against it were nothing but ants attacking a gigantic picnic, but they were also fire ants that worked as a swarm.
Still, even with all of the forces arrayed against the beast it took the better part of half an hour to destroy it. The battle for the city was over. Thunder Reign had been beaten, for now.
Scott watched as the paladins of Sol-Karan and the Valkovian army regulars mopped up the remaining knights on the field. Soon, even the beasts that roamed the streets would be taken care of and the process of restoring the city could begin.
However, for now there was another task at hand. At the behest of Heralt Scott went in search of Jimothy's mother. The head priest needed to attend to the boy to make certain nothing untoward had happened during their absence from his side. Normally, the child would be taken to his home or to a hospital to rest, but during this time of crises he had to remain where he was.
A short time spent wandering through the small underground bunker led him to a weeping woman in the far back corner. Several women and a teenage boy were sitting nearby trying to console her.
Scott looked at the crying woman for a moment and noted that her features matched the description that Heralt had given him. He walked over to someone standing nearby but far enough away as not to disturb the distraught woman in case she was not who he sought. "Excuse me, can you tell me who she is?"
"Who she is? What's your problem? Don't like a woman crying?" asked the man in an overly loud tone that got everyone's attention anyway. "Huh? Want me to shut her up? Is that it?"
The dark haired man laughed strangely then pointed at Scott. "Is her grief upsetting you, fucker?"
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