One of the guards, dressed in slightly more elaborate armor, replied, "Orders, sir. No travel until the new Season."
Vythin pushed a spear tip away from his face, "Surely that only applies to those entering and not those exiting, yes?"
"Orders are orders. No travel. Go back the way you came."
Vythin sighed, "This is a waste of time." He shifted into his hybrid form and smiled. "I’m a god. You best clear out of my way before I get irritated."
The bulk of the guards stepped away, but the one who was speaking stood firm, "Orders are orders."
Vythin sighed, "Very well then, it seems a demonstration is in order." He waved his hand towards the guard and a small glimmer followed his hand in the air. A pile of gold bars appeared at his feet. He leaned down and picked one up, tossing it between his hands, "Wow, would you look at this! Gold with no owner..." He trailed off with a wicked smile.
The guard immediately put his spear up and bowed, "Apologies. We’ll just pretend that you didn’t come through."
Vythin nodded and strode away, shifting back to his human form as the guards picked up the gold ingots and resumed their post. The road to the city was not as busy as his last visit - only a small trail of wagons leading out of the gates. He made his way into the city proper, and felt slightly dismayed seeing the lower city still in the same state of poverty. I thought that the money I gave to everyone would have fixed...something, Vythin thought as he continued his journey to the upper city. The guards at the upper city entrance stopped him.
"Oi! You’re that Vythin fellow, aintcha?"
Vythin blinked a few times, "Ummm….yes. I’m Vythin Goldenscales. I’m here to visit someone, then I'll be leaving." The guard ran over to a doorway embedded in the gate wall. A few moments passed in awkward silence as a black-robed woman came out. Vythin frowned, "Representative Grish, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
The Vaysani representative smiled curtly, her dark feathers ruffling as she bowed, "I regret to inform you that The Dark Lady has banned you from the upper city."
"This is a representative republic. She doesn’t own the city."
Grish smiled, "The republic is housed at The Starfall Hall, yes. But the city is under the control of Umbra and Terra."
Vythin felt an anger boil up in him. I’m a god! She can’t do this to me. "And what of my representative? Has Orinor been given access to the meetings and ongoings in the Hall?"
Grish frowned, "Unfortunately, yes. The goddess values the well-being of her city, and the trade deal still stands."
Vythin nodded, "Very well then. I still need to talk to Orinor."
Grish shook her head, "That will not happen in the upper city. And if you try to force the issue, know that we have several priests and clerics close by."
"Is that a threat?" Vythin asked filling his voice with as much malice as possible.
"Yes. The Dark Lady has her largest temple within this city. At a moment’s beck and call, we would overwhelm you, god of light." She sounded afraid, but her conviction was apparent.
Vythin stared at her before turning on his heel and walking away into the previous district. He felt the indignant rage roil within him once more; just as it had with the light mage. Umbra...I’m going to ruin you first. Starting here. I’ll show you what a god should do for their worshippers. Vythin walked to one of the many town squares and found a busker who was standing atop a wooden crate, playing a song on a lute. Vythin handed the Spriten singer a handful of dreks, "Take a break. I need your box." The Spriten nodded and hopped down. Vythin took his place atop the box. You want a war, Umbra? I’ll give you a war. All that is yours will be mine.
He opened his mouth and inhaled deeply before letting out an enormous roar that stopped everyone in their tracks, shook the very stones of the city itself, and forced everyone to turn. Vythin switched to his hybrid form and spoke; his voice carried by light itself to every corner of the capital. "You, who worship Umbra - look where you are! An upper-city that looks down upon you, the rest scraping by on the crumbs left by them at their feet. Aren’t you tired of it all? The struggle to survive while being looked down upon by your peers?" A large crowd had gathered at this point, and several streets began to fill. "I will give you a reprieve. I am Vythin Goldenscales - one of the New Gods. You may have heard of me, or my city - Bastion. I invite all of all of you, beginning on the first of Shine Season, to come live there. I can promise you food and shelter - completely for free - and a good, decent life. Your children will be taught, your elderly will be cared for, your injuries healed. Witness the power of The Destined!"
He flourished his hands above him and channeled his heat; drawing on the deepest wells of his Shard’s heat, and thought his desires to come into existence. Feel my benevolence. He released the heat and a golden cascade shot out from him in all directions; an explosion of light that radiated outwards and affected the whole Capital - save for the upper city, which reacted violently as the walls of that section pulsed with a black aura. The crowd closed their eyes and some shouted in panic or alarm...but then all was silent and the light faded. Vythin felt himself grow weary and struggled to stand. Not yet...I need to look strong. He stood tall and raised his head to gaze across the crowd - all of whom were bedecked in fine clothes and jewels; pockets stuffed with dreks and gold coins of the prior era - a valuable commodity that was quite rare.
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"This is just a taste of what I can offer. Come to Bastion; walk through the green portal outside the southern gate come the start of next season. I will take care of you, and you will learn to take care of each other - all of you are equal in my eyes. And all of you deserve a chance at a good life." Vythin stepped down off the box as the crowd slowly parted, still in shock and feeling their new finery or exclaiming in glee at the money they now possessed. Several whispered thanks and many bowed. This is what being a god means, Vythin thought as his heat slowly but surely returned. Their worship gives me strength… He glanced up at the upper-city and saw the dark jewel atop The Starfall Hall, a black glow with a red eye at the center. Vythin waved up, I’ll ruin you first, Umbra. Just watch. This war is only beginning. As he made his way through the lower city several people continued to thank him and he felt more heat surge into him than ever before. He felt a tug on his cloak and turned to see one of Orinor’s office assistants standing there.
"Ah, hello. Can I help you?" He asked the young man.
"I have a letter for you. Your eyes only." He replied, handing the letter to Vythin before running off.
Vythin left the city and a small crowd followed him to the tree on the edge of the trade road, where the guards stood quite perplexed as the congregation approached. Vythin smiled at them, "Don’t worry. They’re just here to see me off." He turned to the crowd, "Remember, you may begin arriving on the first of the next season. To you, who followed me out here - I give you a blessing." Vythin channeled his heat once more and clapped his hands as a cascade of gold light flowed through the crowd. "I give you the gift of dragons themselves. You will no longer be harmed by flame." To iterate this, Vythin channeled his heat into his throat and opened his maw, breathing a stream of fire onto the crowd. The gold and silver flames roared outwards and the people screamed - the guards pointed their spears and yelled from behind him to surrender. Vythin stood patiently as the assembled crowd calmed down, unharmed by the torrent - although the same couldn’t be said for the surrounding grass. The congregants bowed and praised Vythin, the guards stood bewildered, and he stepped back through the portal.
He entered Bastion and found Slate at the home along with the others.
"Oh! Welcome back. Isaac is sleeping upstairs," Yvilli said as she saw him enter.
Slate walked up and grabbed Vythin’s collar, pushing him up against the wall, his eyes wide with anger and a scowl written across his face. "I felt something a few minutes ago. A large group of people reached a revelation in Starhold. Thousands know your name now. Thousands know of The Destined. What did you do? "
Vythin put his hands up, "I just did a miracle...and maybe declared war on Umbra."
Slate’s face paled and he backed off, sinking into a chair, "You what?" he said sullenly.
"I declared war on Umbra. She said she would ruin me, well, I am going to ruin her first."
Slate put his head down in his hands, "You declared war on one of the Artificial Gods…" He looked up, "There’s going to be consequences because of this. And by proxy, you dragged Isaac and myself into this war as well."
Vythin sat down opposite Slate, taking on a stern demeanor, "I did what I thought was right...the power I felt from the adoration of the people...Slate, I’ve never felt anything like it. I felt like I could do anything...and aren’t you all about equality for the people? Bastion can be just that - us gods, and the people; treated equally and fairly."
Slate groaned and leaned back, "Yes, equality is important to me. But you took it to an extreme with whatever you did. Declaring war on Umbra…" he shook his head, "We have to always be on our guard now. We can’t ever take anything at face value."
"Perhaps I was rash at that moment. But I’d rather make the opening move than wait for her to strike first."
Slate nodded and smiled, "Well, for a first opening move - enticing away most of her most devoted in a city built in her name was a potent move. Umbra isn’t as popular in many nations due to their power structure - The Siltar Republic holds her most fervent. This will be a blow, for sure...but we must expect reprisal."
Vythin stood, "Let her come then. Whatever she throws our way, we can conquer it." He left Slate, going upstairs to his room, and opened the letter from his brother.
Dear Vythin,
I have been forbidden to speak with you by my goddess. Whatever you did was really, really dumb. But, you’re my brother, and even though we only recently reconnected, you have watched out for me and even done things to get me into a position of power in Starhold I didn’t expect. She said I cannot ‘speak’ to you, but she never said anything about writing. I’ll correspond further soon. Thank you.
Stay safe,
Orinor Rivers
P.S. I'm invaluable to her right now; I have fail safes in place to dismantle my network should I die. Her high priests know this. Don't worry about me.
The next few days came and went uneventfully; Isaac taking news of Vythin’s declaration of war on Umbra with a calm, collected understanding. Vythin continued to figure out the political structure that he would be using to run Bastion - with Slate’s help, of course; deciding on a hand-selected council from individuals in various industries advising Vythin, who would make the final decisions. He created stores and stockpiles of trade goods using his control over wealth; making things ready for crafters of all professions. Slate spent most of his time in his workshop, only saying "I have some ideas for the Peacekeepers," when prodded. Isaac tended to the large indoor farm, stockpiling a vast store of food. At the week’s end, with the new season just a few days away, the three gods decided to take a day off. They went with Yvilli to the large fountain at the center of town, relaxing and going for a swim.
A metallic clanking could be heard from the north as an Iron Servitor approached at high speed. It stopped and stood still for a moment. It spoke in a monotone voice, "Visitor at gate."
"What do they look like?" Slate asked.
"Mage. Black robe. Designation - Kalinor," the construct replied.
Vythin dashed out of the fountain, "Kalinor’s here? Great!" He looked at Slate, "That means he has the diamond. We can pull that Demon out of you." He turned back to the construct, "You’re dismissed." The machine turned and walked away, resuming its cleaning duties. Vythin turned to his companions, "Well, come on! Let’s go meet him."
Vythin ran ahead of his companions. He opened the gates and saw Kalinor standing in the small clear space in the midst of the constructs. He smiled, "Kalinor! It’s so good to see you safe!" He ran forward and hugged him, pulling back his hood.
Black eyes stared back at him, and a wicked smile crossed his lips. Vythin felt a sharp pain in his stomach and looked down - a dagger was sunk up to the hilt in his gut. He reeled back as Kalinor hugged him close, burying the blade deeper and twisting - the voice that spoke a distortion, tinged with another person’s. A cold took him and froze him to his core, the light dimming from his sight. No! Vythin fought back with every fiber of his being, feeling his heat surge into the hole in his heart and stitching the flesh back together, rapidly trying to reconstruct his flesh with hardened light.
"I told you I would ruin you, little god," The voice of Umbra spoke from Kalinor's mouth.