Chapter 50 - Blessings and Magic

They were two days from Kelwoth when the storm struck, and dark was fast approaching. Shelter was few and far between on the Tarlak Plain, with grass in all directions and only the occasional tree. Hump shivered and wrapped his cloak around him tighter, not that it did much good for him. He was already soaked to the bone. Hump was beginning to accept that they would spend a few sleepless nights out in the rain when Celaine spotted it, her eyes sharp from dragon blood and her huntress blessings.

The small temple was off the road and through a copse of trees; the one section of woodland they’d seen all day. The small huddle of old, mossy stones within was little more than crumbling walls and a roof. Ivy coated it, thick as an arm in places, turning the temple more green than grey. Not one section of the stonework had been left untouched by time, each wall crumbling from every crack or crevice and the roof was filled with holes. It wouldn’t do much to keep the wind out, but it would keep the worst of the rain off them.

There was no room inside for the horses, so they had little choice but to tie them up beneath the trees and head inside.

It was hauntingly empty. A stillness filled the temple, making it seem more than simply vacant. It felt forgotten. The wind howled within, and Hump shivered. For a moment, the three of them stood in the entrance. There was likely once a doorway but now only rubble and dirt remained. Water leaked in from the holes in the roof, pooling along the edges of the room and beneath a stone altar at the back of the temple.

Celaine found a dry patch of ground and put down her saddle and bags. “I’m going to grab firewood while I’m still in my wet clothes.”

“Anything will do,” Hump said.

She nodded.

Hump put his own equipment down beside hers. “Let’s keep the wet stuff together. With any luck we might just stay dry for the night.” He pulled out an oilcloth bag from his saddle pack and made sure that his spare clothes had stayed dry. There was little worse than spending a night soaked to the bone.

“Sure,” Bud said. He was eyeing the room suspiciously.

“What is it?” Hump asked.

“Just wondering what else will be sleeping in here with us tonight.”

Hump snorted. “You’ve had it easy up until now. This is what it really means to be an adventurer.”

“What? Sleeping with insects?”

“Yep,” Hump said. “And that’s not even the worst part. We’re going to be wet for days. Trust me, you’ll be wishing for a bed of spiders by the end of it.”

Hump noticed a marking on the wall and struck his staff against the ground with a tap, channelling essence into it. “Light,” he said with intent.

The crystal focus shone white, filling the chamber with light and shadows. He held it up to the wall for a better look and saw engravings carved into the stone, a line of tiles that went all the way around the room. There were carvings of wheat, people on their knees in prayer, the sun over a lush forest, a newborn baby wrapped in a blanket. Many tiles were missing or too crumbled to make out.

He followed them up to the altar. It had been split in two down the middle, like someone had taken a great hammer and smashed it. The two halves fell inward on each other, broken bits of stone lying on the ground around them. He knelt, wiping off a layer of dust from where the altar had cracked, and there he saw one half of a tree engraved into the stone. Beams spread out from its canopy like a radiant sun.

“Did you find something?” Celaine asked as she entered back inside. She dropped a large pile of wood into one corner with a clatter. It was all soaking, but Hump’s magic would make quick work of that. Perhaps a week ago it would have given him a bit of trouble, but while his control was lacking now, his ability to start fires had only increased.

“You could say that,” Hump said.

Bud approached at his side for a look and frowned. “A tree?”

“I think we’re in an old shrine to a forest deity,” Hump said. “I’ve come across them before, but they’re not usually in such good shape.”

“You call this good shape?” Celaine said, looking around at the engravings in wonderment. “Who would destroy such a lovely place?”

“Unfortunately, it was probably us,” Hump said. She looked at him confused, and Hump clarified, “Our people. Devotees of the Pantheon. Most likely Emirai’s followers if I were to be specific; they always seem particularly agitated by forest spirits.”

“It’s only a pagan shrine,” Bud said dismissively. “Remnants of a barbarian mythology.” He laughed. “Did you know they used to sacrifice goats to their gods? No wonder I got the shivers when we came in here.”

Hump winced as he spotted the glare Celaine gave Bud. Yeah, this isn’t going to go down well.

She scoffed. “And what makes your gods so different?”

Bud looked at her and blinked, taken aback. “Everything,” he said, and Hump felt the sincerity of someone that truly believed in his tone.

Celaine let out a tight laugh and shook her head in disbelief. “The only thing that separates your people from everyone else is your arrogant certainty”

“No,” Bud said. “The Twelve are all powerful. None dare to stand against Byzantius’ great war machine. We do not need some silly forest spirit when we have Emirai who gives life to all things. And it is only thanks to Lady Light that there is anything but shadow at all. She brings the sun each morning. Imira holds up the moon while she rests. Kelisia brings winter and Ordana summer.”

“I have seen none of this,” Celaine said. “The sun rises each morning because that is what the sun does. These are just stories.”

Bud shook his head. “There’s no point in discussing it. Your arguments are baseless.”

“The evidence is before your eyes,” Celaine said, gesturing at the tiles around the room. “Without that barbaric mythology, look at what this place has become. A sparse grassland. Your people have driven off the very being that made this land thrive. It is no wonder that your country is so plagued by dungeons.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bud said. “I won’t be lectured by some heretic.”

Celaine rolled her eyes and turned to Hump. “Then you tell him. Tell him what I’m saying makes sense.”

Bud stared at him with a frown.

Hump sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. Forest deities were known to live in forests, but there’s no way of knowing whether it is them that made the forests grow or if they simply moved into them in the first place. You could read a hundred books and get a hundred answers on the truth about the gods. Is there really a point in arguing about it? You both believe in what you believe. I don’t think anything will change that.”

Celaine clicked her tongue, glaring between the two of them in disgust. “I’m going to get more firewood.”

Hump rubbed the water from his face and scowled.

“What?” Bud asked.

“Bad things always happen when it rains,” Hump said.

They didn’t talk much after that. Hump got the fire going while Bud set up a line of cord for them to hang up their clothes to dry. They used their cloaks to set up a place to change with some semblance of privacy, dried off the saddles. Bud oiled his armour while Celaine checked on her bow and arrows, all the while shooting glares at each other across the fire.

Hump did his best to ignore them. Instead, he practiced his shaping exercises. He didn’t dare risk ruining the firewood on a night like this, so focused on training his skill with earth instead. After such a sudden increase in essence, he was having trouble controlling how much entered his channels. To train that, he needed an exercise that would hone his precision.

It was one that he hated. He floated a small stone over his hand and focused on cutting out a piece of it at a time with his Will. His head throbbed from the effort. Each cut had to be made accurately, his essence measured. It had never been his strong point. He managed to separate the stone into eleven pieces when he finally lost control. It only took one mistake and what remained of the stone shattered apart, sending dust and stone flying. He coughed and rubbed his eyes, leaning forward onto his knees to massage his head. He was cold, damp, and nobody was talking, yet the sun had yet to even fully set.

Hump turned to Celaine on his left. “I’d like to know about Owalyn. Can you tell me?”

Celaine glared at him. “Why?”

Hump shrugged. “Wizard’s curiosity. I want to know if there’s any difference between your powers and the Chosen of the Pantheon. It also seems like a good idea for me to have some understanding of your people before I’m carried off in a sack to face whatever deathly trials they have waiting for me.”

She paused, as if considering. “They won’t put you in a sack,” she said finally.

“I’m liking them more already,” Hump said.

She smiled thinly. “Goddess Owalyn dwells within the Spear Tree, at the heart of our region. Its roots spread to the very edge of our lands and keep out the darkness of the Fallen Lands beyond.” She paused, glaring at Bud. “What is it?”

Hump glanced at the knight to see his brow furrowed.

“I didn’t know that there were people living in the Fallen Lands,” Bud said.

“Not without help,” Celaine said. “It surrounds us on all sides, but Owalyn protects us. The few beasts that dare to step into her realm face the might of her roots.”

“How did you get out?” Hump asked.

“By horse,” Celaine said.

Hump snorted. “That isn’t quite the detail I meant. Travel through the Fallen Lands can never be done lightly.

“There are two ways for us to come south,” Celaine said. “By dragon back is the safest, but Vamir and I came through the mountains. During the summer, while the days are long, it’s safe enough to make the journey by horseback.”

“Why didn’t you just ride a dragon all the way here?” Bud asked.

Celaine smirked. “We cannot just ride dragons. There are only twenty Dragon Keepers and only in exceptional cases do they fly anyone out. Not even Vamir has ridden one.”

Hump stared at her. “There are only twenty?”

“Now you know how lucky you are?” Celaine said. “And how difficult of a situation we’re in.”

“I thought there would be more,” Hump said. “When I saw the wolf dragon’s memories, I felt eight others in her pack.”

“Very few are bound to us,” Celaine said. “But they stay with us and let us harvest their blood. It is Owalyn that they come for really. She is Goddess of the Hunt, and Queen of Dragons. They flock to our lands to pay their respects and to join the Chosen Hunt.”

“From the name, I assume that is when you are chosen?” Hump said.

Celaine nodded. “Yes. On the day of the winter solstice, we gather around the Spear Tree and pray. At dusk, Owalyn emerges for the hunt. Those she deems worthy are turned into her hounds, and we run with her and her dragons into the Fallen Lands.”

Just imagining it made Hump’s skin crawl. “You’ve met her face to face?”

“We all have,” Celaine said. “Each year we meet her. I remember very little of the actual hunt, but I remember the moment she laid eyes upon me. As she emerges from the tree, its branches move before her to form steps. She has antlers that protrude from silver hair, and eyes so green that the rest of the world seems dull in comparison. When I saw them, I felt a spark, a rush of power, and then I was part of her pack. It was as if we were one being, and she was our head. When I awoke, she was in the tree once more, and I had received my first blessing.”

“I’ve never heard of a ceremony like that,” Hump said. “For her to actually be with you… It’s completely unheard of. Not even the lesser gods of the Pantheon will show up in person for their Chosen, let alone the Twelve.”

“Then how are you selected?” Celaine asked.

“Our name days, mostly,” Bud said. “That was when I was chosen.”

“What’s that?” Celaine asked.

“You don’t have a name day?” Bud asked incredulously.

“Is it the day you are born?”

Bud laughed and shook his head. “No. On a child’s seventh day a feast is held, and the gods are thanked for bringing a new life into the world. We are offered to the gods in a ceremony, and from there they chose their champion. Blessed or not, only then are we granted our name.”

“But you’re so young!” Celaine said. “How do they teach you to control your blessing? Is that not dangerous?”

Bud shook his head. “It takes years for the bond to solidify. During infancy, the blessing does little but keep us from falling to sickness.”

“It’s not just children either,” Bud said. “Anyone can be chosen, at any time. There is no limit to what the gods can do. Even Hump might find his place among us eventually, perhaps that is their plan.”

Hump snorted. “I doubt it.”

“It could happen,” Bud insisted. “And then there are trials too. Or the arena of Byzantius that is held every four years. The winner is granted his blessing. Everyone can have their chance.”

Hump waved him off. “I’m not planning on fighting in any arenas, Bud. I’ve been without the gods for this long, and I’m content to stay this way. I’m more interested in the mechanics of your blessings and the way you both draw your powers. I’ve read secondary accounts, but I’ve never had a chance to hear it from a Chosen in person.”

Celaine paused. “It’s hard to explain. I kind of open myself up to Owalyn and her essence flows into me.”

“Where does it flow?” Hump asked, bringing out his spellbook. He opened it to a blank page and the ink began to form on its own.

Spellbook
Notes on Chosen and their Blessings

“In my core,” Celaine said.

“So it doesn’t come from outside?” Hump asked.

She shook her head. “No. I’m not sure how to explain it, but it definitely doesn’t come from outside.”

“It’s like a fire within me,” Bud said. “The flame is always there, but in a moment like now it’s so faint I hardly notice it. When I call on my blessing the fire blazes. The power doesn’t really come from anywhere, it just appears.”

“Yes,” Celaine said. “Imagining it as a flame is a good way of putting it. The connection is always there, but when I open myself up to it, it grows stronger, and the flame does too.”

Hump frowned. “Interesting. I wonder how their essence reaches you without any external channels. It must come from somewhere.”

“What do you mean?” Bud asked.

“Well essence doesn’t just appear out of nothing,” Hump said. “It’s affected by distance, it takes time to move.”

“The gods are everywhere,” Bud said.

“Not likely,” Hump said. “You think Kelisia and Owalyn would happily be here together in this room?”

“Not in the room.” Bud tapped his chest. “In here. Our body’s are our temple.”

“Perhaps,” Hump said. “But it goes against my understanding of how essence works. It needs a source, and it needs a path if it’s to go from one place to another. It can’t simply manifest.”

“Then how do you explain it?” Bud said.

Hump shrugged. “Maybe we can’t. Our magic is a shoddy replication of what the gods do. Perhaps they are operating in a dimension that we can’t even see.”

“How does your magic work?” Celaine asked.

Hump looked at her, surprised. She’d asked about it back in the tunnels of the dungeon too, but it still caught him off guard. No Chosen had ever asked how his magic worked before. It was beneath them, an inferior form of essence manipulation that went against the principles of the Pantheon.

“Typically, a spell draws on a wizard’s internal essence,” Hump said. “Everyone has it. It’s the power at our core that’s gathered naturally by the presence of our souls—our essence pool. Those with souls that have a particularly strong attractive force have larger essence pools and make for more gifted wizards.”

“Can you show me how?” Celaine asked.

Hump frowned. “I suppose theoretically it’s possible. Chosen have been known to practice magic in the past, though it always ended badly for them. The gods do not take kindly to those who seek power other than their own.”

“I told you not to worry. Owalyn would encourage it if anything,” Celaine said. “We are taught to explore our powers and to be creative.”

“Okay,” Hump said. “We’ll try a basic channelling exercise then.”

“Sure.”

“There are three key components to a spell,” Hump said. “Will is the first. It is what gives direction to your spell and drives essence into action. We’re going to channel essence into our hand and gather it above our palms, I want you to grasp that firmly in your mind.”

She nodded.

“Essence is second. Move your essence according to your Will and gather it above your palm.” As he spoke, he channelled his own power, creating a cloud of bronze essence above his palm.

He felt Celaine’s essence stir too. A trail escaped her palm. Most of it leaked off into the air, dissipating into nothing, but enough of it remained for them to continue.

“And the final component is structure,” Hump said. His essence formed a ring, the most basic of formations. It shimmered as it rotated slowly above his hand. “This can be as simple as a single word or complex as a formation the size of a building. Right now, this shaping exercise is simple enough that all you need to do is hold the image in your mind.”

Celaine said nothing as she focused. Her essence stirred, and the cloud began to move. For a moment, Hump thought she might do it, but as the cloud began to take shape her essence began to leak even more. Then all at once it vanished.

Celaine sat back gasping. She closed her eyes and massaged the temples of her head. “That’s not easy.”

Hump grinned. “About time you understood how tough us wizards have it compared to you lot.” He willed a handful of stones to him and began rotating them along the path of the circle, speeding them up as he channelled more essence into the exercise.

“Bet that impresses all the girls,” Celaine said, smiling at him.

Hump felt blood rush to his cheeks and suddenly, his essence surged. The formation fell apart and the stones went flying, scattering throughout the room like hail.

Celaine laughed. “You’re too easy, Hump.”

Hump coughed. “Keep practicing. If you can do that exercise, I’ll teach you the next one.”

She grinned. “I’ll do that, thanks. And in the meantime, you need to work on your empathic connection again.”

Hump winced. “Brilliant. Egg Bonding!”