Chapter Thirty-Six: It was really hard the first couple of days.
Everyone was tense. Well, they were, but I wasn’t. I had been on the edge for the past two days and felt like, no matter what hit us, I could at least run away. And I was pretty confident that if I made it to the temple, I could hold off an army there. I’m also pretty sure the place had more than one secret exit we could use if necessary.
The Temple District was mostly quiet. There were a few people, mostly the vendors, who operated there daily. Festival or not, the places that always seemed to be hopping were shopping and entertainment; the Temple District offered plenty of both. The nice thing about it being reasonably early in the morning was that everyone around was focused on setting up and not trying to sell us any of their crap. My stomach did give me a growl. The yummy smells of cooking street food reminded me that it had been over a day since I ate. I pushed thoughts of eating down as we moved west through the narrow streets.
The party seemed just as unimpressed with the less-than grand storefront entrance of the Temple of the Unnamed God as I was when I first saw it.
I just started pounding on the door, and Peter’s grizzled old face poked out of the door after about three minutes of knocking and a set of sore knuckles.
“By his grace,” he whispered, backing up and opening the door for us. “I feared the worst.”
“Still to come,” I said with as brave of a face as I could reasonably pull off. I stepped in, the rest of the group holding back at the doorway.
The reality that the world of Nya was not like Earth was still sinking in. At least, as it pertained to religion, people didn’t just walk into the temples of gods they didn’t worship. The other gods take that shit personal.
“I don’t want to drag you all here, but it’s our only safe place right now. Most other gods don’t have a beef with The Unnamed God, and he doesn’t actively recruit followers, so being in the temple should be okay.”
“All faiths are welcome in this place,” Peter kind of whisper shouted from his place next to the door. “The Unnamed God does not proselytize or solicit followers. Please enter this place of sanctuary for all.”
Gem was the first to actually seem to relax. She was devout to Dryphine, but Peter’s words set her at ease. She stepped over and took my hand. Jinx didn’t seem to worship anyone, and I didn’t know about the rest. He followed her, and the other two lined up behind him.
“Sister Leoleth is here,” Peter said, shutting and locking the door after entering. We stood in the absurdly grand entry hall. My companions’ eyes widened, taking everything in, from the statue in the middle to the sinister-looking black marble architecture. The place was awe-inspiring, even if it was mostly abandoned.
“Everyone, Peter Gallois, Head Cleric. Peter, this is everyone.” I said. But then quickly added: “ish.” Heather wasn’t here, of course.
“A pleasure.” Peter gave the group a bow. My peeps all gave a smattering of greetings in return. Jinx was the only one who didn’t look completely terrified.
“Ya’ll need to understand something.” I snapped my fingers to get everyone’s undivided attention. “The Unnamed God is cool. Not a dick. So, lighten the fuck up.”
“He is very cool,” Peter said reverently. There was another pause. “Maybe we could have a little breakfast? I’ll fetch Sister Leoleth, and we can put something together.”
Peter dashed off before I could say anything. We all stood around in a half-circle. Conversation was not easy to come by, and the slightest sound easily shattered the silence of the entrance hall. The native Nyans were all tense.
“This is the most terrifying place I have ever seen,” Eric whispered, breaking the silence. He was looking up at the central statue.
“Seriously?” Gem hissed. “Have you seen the Temple of Granvul?”
“At least there’s some color there.”
“Darlings!” Leoleth appeared in the doorway. She was adorned in large, flowing robes with silver and black vestments. She wore a large, pope-style hat with the symbol of The Unnamed God on the front; the masked skull was terrifying but still very fucking metal.
She glided over to us with her arms spread wide. I knew her well enough to know that she was reflecting genuine feelings, but my crew hadn’t spent the last seven weeks or so living with her as I did, and they were understandably terrified as she embraced us all in turn. She was all smiles, trying her best to look graceful. The problem was that she was absolutely terrifying in the outfit. Her long arms made her look spiderlike in the flowing robes, and the hat put her at a height that towered over Kev.
“Thanks be to him,” she said in a hushed tone. “You’re all safe.”
“Not all of us,” I said.
She looked at the group, taking it all in for the first time. Her smile faded as she realized who was missing. “Where is she?”
“They have her,” Kev said.
“Shit.” Leoleth stepped back. The extra inches of height she had seemed to drop off. She looked at me ominously. “And The Ruby Necklace?”
“Of course.” I smiled bitterly. “With a virgin priestess to sacrifice, so fuck.”
“That’s enough for now.” Peter interrupted from the doorway. He had gotten his robe on, doing his best to look good for company.
“Time for some breakfast. We need to feed our bodies so our minds can work better. Then we can plan a course of action.”
He led us back to the lounge, where Gretchen was waiting with a cart of rolls, pastries, coffee, and tea. We all sat on the facing couches, awkwardly adding butter and jam to rolls and sipping at our hot drinks. The forced silence was a good thing. I knew everyone was thinking about our predicament and coming up with ideas, but none knew as much as Leoleth and I did about the ritual.
“So,” Peter said after we had a chance to finish off at least one pastry each. “We have a problem on our hands.” He took a sip of his tea. “Not everyone here fully understands what our adversaries have planned, so let’s make sure we are all caught up.”
“Heather is the perfect sacrifice,” I said. “Part of the ritual is to summon Sylriad, Granvul’s minion.”
“What’s the point of that?” Eric asked. “You said it was some kind of sacrificial summoning, but why would they do it?”
“Servitus Hostiae Animi?” Gretchen asked, looking at me. “Is that the ritual she used on you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been studying the ritual,” Gretchen said. “It marks you as her slave, but it doesn’t allow mind control on the victim.”
“Then why was I doing all kinds of nasty things to her?”
“She has some other method of control,” Gretchen said. “The ritual would have certainly lowered your resistance, but it wouldn’t have forced you to do anything against your will.”
“It was like my body was performing outside of my control, but my mind was still straight.”
“She’s using magic to control people.”
“Magic amplified by Granvul when she gives him a piece of a soul, then?”
“Yes,” Peter stepped in. “Servitus Hostiae Animi marks you as her property, but she still has to exact her will over you. She doesn’t get just to brand you and have you. Granvul is about dominance but is also a stickler for a strong work ethic. He gives his followers boosts to their abilities. He doesn’t just give them total control of someone just because they manage to tackle someone and poke them with a control rod. There is…” he continued with a darker tone to his voice. “The issue is with the afterlife. You are bound to her.”
“What if I kill her?”
“I wish I knew.” He said glumly. “You might want to consult the Unnamed God about that. I suspect that even killing her won’t change the hierarchy established in the afterlife, but like I said, I just don’t know.”
“But this Ritual of Sylriad is something different,” Gretchen said. “What have you learned about the necklace?”
“The Ruby Necklace is a soul crystal,” Leoleth said.
That killed whatever mood we had going in the room. Everyone was looking at her. The party members were understandably shocked. Peter and Gretchen looked downright horrified.
“Guard lady figured it out.”
“Yeah,” I said. All eyes shifted to me. “She said it came from Brikru.”
“I’d be calling bullshit on that,” Eric said with a grim smile on his face. “But somehow, you seem to keep making the impossible a regular thing with you.”
“Ain’t no reason for soul crystals,” Jinx said. “’less they’ve come up with one.”
“Permanent summoning,” Leoleth said. “Not proud of it, but the sisters were working on something like that.”
“But they were all crazy,” Kev said.
“Crazy is just thinking that impossible shit is real,” I said.
“Once it isn’t anymore, then you’re a genius.”
“By his grace,” Peter muttered. “Trapping a soul…”
“Summonings based on human vessels is already an atrocity,” Gretchen said. “But to go as far as to capture someone and hold their consciousness captive?” She shook her head.
“What would it be like to be in that thing?” I asked.
“Agony,” Peter said. “The soul is not meant to exist in this plane.”
“Eumenia wants to trap the Empress’ soul,” Eric said. He smiled, pleased as punch that he was starting to get it. “And the Sylriad guy can make that happen?”
“Yes,” Gretchen said. “With the power and will of Granvul’s minion providing the ability to do it. The ritual will also allow a massive soul harvest for Granvul.”
“So,” Eric said. “To simplify, this is all bad.”
“Pretty much all of it,” Peter said. “And a permanent summoning of Sylriad at a future date would spread the forces of chaos across the world. Forget just The Empire.”
Gem spoke for the first time since we started the session. “So, if the ritual goes through successfully, we lose everything?”
“Heather,” I said. “We lose Heather. That should be enough.”
“But it ain’t just that, love,” Jinx said. “We really will lose everything.”
“Not this round,” I said. “A canned soul is not a today problem. Heather is a today problem.”
Peter was watching us talk with a degree of satisfaction. “So,” he said finally. “We need to form a plan, but first, we need to outline our goals.”Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“We need to rescue Heather,” I said.
“That is one of the goals.”
Kev chimed in. “Stop the ritual from taking place.”
“Kill Eumenia and Sybo,” Gem said with a nasty look. “They need to go down.”
“Not dying is nice too.” Said Kev.
“Tha’s, like wot? The third time you said that?” Jinx glared at him.
“Big on life,” Kev said. “But I think all these goals are kind of tied together.”
“Ok,” Peter interjected. “Our Goals: Save Heather, stop the ritual, and not die.” He looked at the group. “Not dying is easy enough. Just run away.”
“Craven,” Jinx said.
Peter smiled. “I just want to point out that multiple paths lead to different favorable outcomes. Running will achieve one of our goals. Blowing up The Royal Palace can achieve another one.”
“Stopping the ritual and saving Heather is pretty much the same thing,” I said.
“Are they?” Peter asked. “Saving Heather is important, but they can just do the ritual again with another vessel another time if we just rescue her.”
“That would be good enough for now. Heather is not an ‘if.’ We will save her.”
“Seize or destroy The Ruby Necklace,” Kev said.
Jinx chimed in. “This’s all just a load o’ rubbish, innit? If we can’t get into that ritual space, what’s the bloody point?”
“The one inside the Royal Palace,” Gem added. “You know, the one surrounded by hundreds of soldiers and guards.”
Gretchen was the next to speak. “There might be a way we can help with that.” She smiled. “One of our followers works in the Royal Palace.”
Peter pulled a parchment out of storage and jotted down a quick note. Without hesitation, he pressed it into Eric’s hand.
“Why me?” Eric sighed.
“You’re the most dashing.” Peter grinned, gesturing to his wife. “Now dash.”
“The stable,” Gretchen said, grabbing Eric’s hand. “Let’s go handsome.”
“She thinks I’m handsome.” He said to me with a wink as they left the room.
We kept up the discussion, albeit one missing all specificity. We didn’t have a plan. Peter cracked out the good brandy and passed snifters to everyone. He said our brains were getting gunked up, and it was time to start greasing the gears. We sipped quietly, waiting for Eric to return with whoever it was that was supposed to help us.
Gossuli, the dwarf, made his appearance about an hour later. He was slim for a dwarf, slightly taller than average, and had an impressive, braided beard that stretched down to his waist. His dark eyes seemed in open conflict with a pair of heavy, dwarven eyebrows. Gretchen led him into the planning session with a panty Eric.
“The palace is locked up tighter than a bride the night before her weddin’,” he smirked. “But ye can slip in with the staff so long as ye know how to play the part.”
“Not a problem with humans, elves, and an orc?” I asked.
“Not a problem for the most part. Even with... whatever she is,” he gestured at Gem. “Just keep yer heads down, and the guards won’t be any the wiser.”
“There needs to be a room somewhere in the palace with lots of space to perform a ritual. Any ideas?”
Gossuli paused for a moment. “I’m part of the maintenance crew, see?” he said, his thick fingers stroking his beard in thought. “Below the ballroom is the staging area. Once dinner’s cleared and the dancing kicks off, it’ll be mostly empty, aye?”
He glared at me, his eyebrows briefly taking over his face. “It’d be easy enough to seal off, keepin’ outsiders out for a good couple o’ hours before anyone even noticed.”
“Right below the ballroom?” Kev asked.
“Nothing between them but twelve inches o’ lumber.”
“It’s not like Eumenia can just go into the basement when the Gala starts,” Gem said. “She would need to attend part of it and make sure everything is set up. How long is the ritual?”
“Thirty minutes,” Leoleth said. “Short.”
“We’ll need to be in place before they get down there. That’s not a big window of time.” Kev said. “We also need to make sure we catch them in the act.” “Why?” I asked.
“Because if we just bust in and start cracking skulls, then no one would know anything wrong was happening, and we would be beheaded by dawn.”
“We have to let the ritual start.”
“Kind of hard to cover up a ritual circle,” Leoleth said. “Especially with a sacrifice tied up in the middle.”
“A Purity Cleric held captive would be a pretty good witness for the defense,” I said. “We find her, we kill everyone and get her back. Fuck the consequences.”
“Second that,” Jinx said.
The planning session rolled on, and Gossuli proved invaluable. He seemed to know every entrance and exit of the palace and was eager to help. As a local with no love for the Empire and even less for the Magistrate, his loyalty wasn’t hard to secure. He’d follow me without question as the Champion, but the hatred in his eyes whenever her name came up told me he didn’t need much convincing. He had a plan to get us inside, but with the heightened security, it wouldn’t be easy.
“You’ll need to wear suppressors,” he said, pointing to his wrist.
“Magic-suppressing cuffs?” I asked.
“Aye. The help ain’t trusted a hundred percent, ye ken?”
“Not a problem, as long as we can take them off.”
“I’ve got a key. Won’t be an issue.”
Eumenia’s plan was a masterpiece of logistics. She needed the Empress to wear the Ruby Necklace, the ritual space perfectly prepared, Heather and the priests in position, and every guard moving like clockwork. This was all good for us. More moving parts would lead to more points of failure. The plan was basic. Monitor the bad guys, and stay out of sight until the right moment.
We took turns heading to the baths to clean up while hammering out the details. My turn came, and Gretchen led me through the temple to a beautifully decorated room. As we walked, she rested a hand on my shoulder.
“I know he made you his Champion because he sees your soul,” she said gently. “I can sense how scared you are.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“For yourself? No, of course not. But you’re not here for yourself or our Lord.”
“I suppose not.” I stopped, meeting her eyes. “She deserves rescuing.”
“You’re scared for her.”
“Yeah, of course. She’s better than me. Heather would sacrifice everything to save me and my friends.”
“Even her soul?”
“She would. But I don’t think any of us are worth that high a price.”
“I suppose not.” Gretchen removed her hand, and we started walking again.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been tempted just to run. As far and as fast as I can.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No,” I admitted with a sigh. “I didn’t.”
“Maybe it wasn’t fair for him to choose you for this.”
“It’s not about fairness. Something tells me I’d have ended up in this mess somehow.” I smiled as we reached the door to the baths. “Like Eric said, I get my share of impossible. I’ve learned to roll with it.”
“I’m glad he chose you.” She smiled and gave me a brief hug.
“He’d want to see this through to the end.”
Lunch showed up somewhere in the middle of our planning session. It was a beautiful tray piled with sandwiches, ale, and fruit. Fancy stuff, too. A full belly went a long way toward steadying the nerves.
I glanced around at the party, taking stock. Kev had doubts, of course. That was his way. A thinker and planner to a fault, he could map out every side of a problem, even if he sometimes missed the obvious when it was right in front of him. Jinx? No questions there. He was a rifter like me, and there wasn’t a single thing in this world that could make him back down. Eric? gods bless my cocky boy; he didn’t even know what “no” meant. Gem? She loved me, and I knew she’d do anything I asked. Leoleth? She’d die for her sister.
And me? Little Regan Summer? I was on this boat no matter the destination, be it a lake, rapids, or straight over a gods damned waterfall. Nothing could make me jump ship.
We were solid.
By the time Gossuli gruffly announced we had to leave in fifteen minutes, it was already mid-afternoon. We were as ready as we could be. Gossuli had a wagon for transport, a stack of magic-suppressing bracelets, and a pile of staff uniforms.
“Wait!” Gretchen’s voice echoed through the hall as she rushed toward me, huffing and puffing from the lower depths of the temple. She shoved a bundle of clothing and armor into my arms, nearly toppling me with the force of it. “You lost your robes,” she said, coughing as she caught her breath.
We were gathered in the entrance hall, and final preparations were underway. Before I could even protest, she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me aside.
“I don’t think I need—”
“Nonsense,” she cut me off sharply. Her tone brooked no argument. “These artifacts have been wasting away in the vault, collecting dust.” She softened, kissing my cheek. “You’re the Champion of the Unnamed God, Regan. You’re not going into battle dressed like a palace servant.”
I shook my head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at my lips.
“I’m starting to think I don’t have a choice.”
“You don’t.” Her stern expression melted as she pulled me into a warm, firm hug. “He believes in you,” she whispered.
“That’s why he chose you.”
Before I could respond, she spun on her heel and strode purposefully down the hallway, leaving no room for further discussion.
Peter sidled up to me, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Quite the outfit she picked out for you.”
I glanced down at the bundle in my arms, curiosity mixed with dread. I slipped on the pieces one by one, their weight settling against me like a second skin.
New Item added.
Armor of the Ollera Eel
Armor type: Ollera Eel Leather
Armor weight: Light
Armor Condition: Excellent
Armor Pieces, Coat, Breastplate, Pauldrons, Pants.
Description: Made by the Church of the Unnamed God, the Ollera Eel is durable and self-healing. The Eel famously resists magical attacks, and that property is passed to the wearer of this armor.
Properties: Resistant to cutting, slashing, and stabbing at the same level as metal scales. Reduces damage from magical attacks by seventy percent while armor is fully equipped. Eel Leather resists grappling attacks by fifty percent. Armor will fully heal outside combat within 24 hours.
New item added:
Shadow Arachne Boots.
Description: Woven from the silk of the Shadow Arachne, the boots resist slashing and cutting damage at the same level as scale armor. The soles of the boots are woven from tarsus hair, allowing the wearer to grip vertical surfaces.
The outfit was black, which was good when sneaking around, although Daisy the Orc seemed to think I needed to wear more color. The look was sharp, almost out of place in this world. It reminded me of something from The Matrix, a sleek, long coat with tails in the back. The eel skin had a faint sheen, resembling latex but with the unmistakable texture of something that once swam in the depths. I squatted a few times, testing the fit, and rolled my arms through the sleeves. The coat was snug across the shoulders, the sleeves just this side of too tight, but the material stretched and moved with me, surprisingly pliable.
Not bad. Functional, intimidating, and a hell of a lot more stylish than I was used to. If nothing else, I’d at least look the part of a Champion. Four feet, six inches never felt taller.
I unequipped the armor, got into the servant garb, and shuffled out to the waiting wagon, feeling slightly ridiculous. The outfit was bright blue and yellow, the Empire’s colors. I was as far from conservative as you could get. Nya was the place for skimpy fashion.
The yellow satin dress plunged low, with undergarments designed to hoist the girls up for maximum effect. Let’s just say mine were a bit bouncier than I was used to. The short skirt left very little to the imagination, showing off a lot of leg, while the tied blue-and-yellow stockings ran up to mid-thigh. Shiny slippers completed the look, and a blue waist apron pulled it together. The final result? I felt like a wench at some medieval Playboy Club.
Before we left, I had Gem check the back of my thighs and my ass for any sign of the Magistrate’s brand. Nothing visible, thank the gods. It must’ve been a hidden mark, like the one from the Unnamed God. The last thing I needed was a nasty slave brand for the world to gawk at.
I wasn’t taking any chances, though. I shoved a lockpick into each slipper, tucked one in my cleavage, and slid another under the garter of my stocking. My hair went up in a tight bun and was stuffed into a white bonnet that mercifully covered the tips of my ears. Leoleth used a charcoal pencil to darken my eyebrows because, let’s face it, cotton candy hair wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
The ride was not a cheery ride to Disneyland by any stretch. The mood was grim, faces were long, and I couldn’t think of any whimsy that would lighten the mood. Not that I was a particularly jolly bitch at the moment.
“I love you,” Gem whispered in my ear.
I turned to her, eyebrows raised, my brain scrambling for something clever to say. What was it Han Solo said in the carbonite chamber? Oh yeah. “I…”
Before I could embarrass myself, she kissed me, thankfully cutting off my awkward attempt at a response. It wasn’t one of those deep, sultry kisses; it was simple and sweet. It was just an ‘I love you’ kind of kiss. I kissed her back, letting myself sink into the comfort of her embrace. We clung to each other for a few moments as the wagon rattled and groaned through the Temple District on its way to the Capital District, where the seat of power was located.
The Royal Palace was very much a dwarven building. Its brutalist design was harsh and unwelcoming, with narrow windows on the lower floors and wider, longer ones higher up. The octagonal structure widened as it climbed, six sinister towers jutting up from its corners like spikes on an evil crown. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the city, making the whole thing look like a malevolent fortress of doom.
Balconies jutted out at intervals, each crawling with crossbowmen and archers. The towers weren’t just for show, either. Each sported a fully armed ballista, their enchanted bolts glowing and crackling with destructive magical energy.
“You know,” Jinx said, breaking the heavy silence as we stared at the Palace, “I once joined a nudist colony.”
“Um…” Eric ventured hesitantly. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” Jinx continued, gazing up at the palace as we circled to the back. “It was really hard the first couple of days.”
The groans from the wagon didn’t come from the wheels this time.