《RETRIBUTION: Tales from the Tapestry》


 In the Beginning

    In the beginning¡­


    There was, Everything.


    The whole of the universe, not yet formed but there none the less. It existed in condensed forms of essence. Concepts of a thing not quite real¡­ yet. For all of these concepts knew no shape. Every concept and facet of reality were merely threads tangled together in the vastness of an empty universe. Until, there was Order. Suddenly every thread had a place and a purpose and Order bound them into the great tapestry of the universe and from this Tapestry, life sprang forth in all of its many facets. At the end of the tapestry, Order cut the heads of each thread, binding them as they thrashed. for the weaver had a singular purpose. To rule over all the colors of the tapestry. To guide its many threads into its own image. For a time there was quiet. For the people who sprang from the tapestry, there was only one God, Odrain the Weaver, the God of Order. For how could it not be so? There were no gods who survived to be mentioned. Until a single thread frayed and haggard, split from the whole of the cloth, and landed softly, on the shoulder of a priest.


    Chapter 1.


    A Broken Wheel


    ¡°It¡¯s your own!¡± THWACK! ¡°Fool fault!¡± THWACK!


    ¡°That it¡¯s broken!¡± THWACK! ¡°So hold it!¡± THWACK! ¡°Higher!¡±


    The warm afternoon air split with the pointed grumbling and punctuating blows of a wooden mallet. The rest of the country side was still, as if not daring the wrath of the diminutive woman hammering the spare wheel onto a cart whose better days were long forgotten since before she was even born. Holding it up was a great bear of a man who despite holding half the weight of the cart up to waist level for his companion, seemed as unperturbed as the field of wild grass beside the road. As the grass flexed and waved beneath the wind, so too did Theodren weather the tirade of the decidedly pregnant woman hammering at the replacement wheel.


    After several more hammer blows and much grumbling, the repair and her catharsis were complete. Stepping back to admire her work she blew a fire red lock of unruly hair from her face. ¡°Right! Think that¡¯s done it your holiness¡±  though the last part was dripping with sarcasm there was no malice. She rather liked the quiet  brute who lowered the cart with a thud. ¡°Sorry Elaina¡­¡± he grimaced.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°Come on Theo I need to get home to start supper before Evan makes another attempt.¡± They both shuddered, the memory of Evan¡¯s blackened sludge he called ¡°stew¡± still wafted, unwelcome through their memories.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get your steed¡± he agreed with an amused eye brow. Elaina snorted, ¡°calling Queenie a steed is like calling you bishop¡±  He frowned in mock indignation, ¡°hey! I am a bishop¡± she arched a brow ¡°there¡¯s pig shit on your frock your grace.¡±


    Settling the mule to the front of her wagon he sighed defeated. ¡°Though the Weaver works in mysterious ways, I do not. So¡­ pig shit.¡±


    It was true that Theodren indeed was a bishop, and entitled to the airs and graces of a minor lord. He had no taste for such things.


    He found the best way to serve his community was not through empty sermons or passing benedictions, but through actively lending his rather large hands to tasks in need of accomplishing. Like for example, mucking out the stalls of Pieter the pig farmer who had fallen ill.


    Elaina sighed. She stretched up on her toes and gave the humble priest a chaste kiss on the cheek. ¡°We know.¡±  She looked at him. With a hand on her belly she climbed into the cart where he passed her the reins.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to be alright Theo.¡± She insisted, seeking out the eye contact he was reluctant to give. ¡°I know you will.¡± He muttered. Wearing a tense smile, she turned to the road snapping the reins, Queenie let out a huff and set off.


    The cart rattled down the hill toward the small collection of squat thatched buildings the locals referred to only as ¡°Town¡±. As Elaina faded from sight, Theodren turned on his heel and strode back to his church.


    ¡°Church¡± was a generous term, it was made of stone and housed an altar. But that was where the similarities ended. The squat building was gray from roof to floor. While it once would have been considered a masterpiece of mathematical precision in a style of simplicity almost spartan. The years had taken its toll.


    Skewed ever so slightly by a foundation cracked by decades of wear. Vines grew over the walls as if  the very land itself worked to reclaim the garish block of unnatural lines and stone insisting upon an orderliness that was foreign to the rolling hills of the hamlet in which Theodren now lived.


    Climbing the worn steps, he chewed at his lip. He would need books. Many books. He thought to himself. As he walked into his private quarters he found himself before the mountain he had already set aside when Elaina had come for his insight. Elaina was pregnant, the signs were clear and she had come to the church for a reading and a blessing as most expecting mothers did. Theodren had been overjoyed to hear of his friend''s budding family. But when he had administered the reading of order for her¡­ the signs showed struggle¡­ and death.

 Chapter 2. Midnight Toil

    Chapter 2. Midnight Toil


    The moon sat silently in the cloudless sky by the time Theodrens weary eyes wrenched themselves from the dry parchment containing an even drier description of the reproductive system.


    He sighed, the old master''s writings, while extensive, were based on an out of date understanding of the ¡°wamb¡± and its wandering properties. All of his books were similar. Mostly incorrect musings of stuffy old masters with the rare nugget of wisdom.


    He rose from his old leather chair, perhaps the only luxury he had brought with him from his old life as a nobles son. Stumbling past the bed that he knew should  have been his destination, he made his way to the small forge he had made for himself behind the church.


    Theodren piled the furnace with kindling and coal, ordering the process of ignition in his minds eye. ¡°Air, plus fuel plus energy equals¡­ there we are!¡± He fueled the tiny flame on his fingertip with what little divine thread he had been blessed with. The miniscule amount of power he had at his disposal was thanks to the blessing of the Weaver.


    While he tried to be grateful for the power he had that others did not. It seemed almost ironic that he had enough to be whisked away from his family and the life he expected for himself. But not quite enough to be considered suitable for anything beyond the small town too inconsequential even to have a name.


    Lost in thought he handed off the tiny flame to the kindling as he grabbed the bellows waiting for the flame to need his assistance. Drumming his fingers along the wood he fruitlessly sought the answers he couldn¡¯t find from his books in the gently dancing flames of his furnace.


    He hadn¡¯t told Eleina the truth. How could he? He stuttered out an excuse of needing to research and interpret the signs. He could tell that she wasn¡¯t convinced. She was his first true friend since he had come to the village only a year ago.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    It was only at her insistence that the townspeople even spoke to him. Most men of the cloth were seen as lofty bureaucrats. More interested in the facade of benevolence than the purveying of it. And certainly no one was inclined to welcome someone who dwarfed their humble door frames in such dramatic fashion as the well fed son of a noble he was.


    It was Eleina who berated the townspeople into giving him a chance his second day making his rounds through the village. While not in possession of much power to speak of, he was never one to shirk a task.


    ¡°Only a bad craftsman blamed his tools¡± he grumbled remembering his father¡¯s guidance. And speaking of tools, he thought to himself. He turned his mind to the task at hand.


    No amount of brooding would provide him the answers he wanted. He didn¡¯t even know what the problem was yet.


    He did know that Pieter needed a new shovel, especially since his old one had snapped in his hands while he mucked out the last stall. Sighing at the memory, he lamented how everything in this little back water seemed to crumble under his hands. Perhaps he truly was cursed, he chuckled.


    Theodren was not an exceptionally skilled smith, but as a boy he loved to watch the blacksmiths of his fathers estate hammer out the steely works of bladed art his fathers lands were known for. This shovel would be no such masterpiece. But it would be sturdy.


    Pulling out the glowing orange ingot from the fire, he got to work. Being possessed of the thread of order helped him to see the process through which the shovel should take shape. He hammered out the crude iron to the shape the thread deemed appropriate, and then began hammering out the imperfections.


    Returning the shovel head to the fire every so often to return it to a more malleable shade of orange until at last he could quench the almost finished product with a hiss that pierced the pre-dawn air. It was then a simple task to attach a worthy handle and set it aside for his trip into town.


    Theodren released a breath he didn¡¯t know he had been holding as he leaned against the anvil watching the fingers of dawn slowly grip the sky. He knew he would pay for this sleepless night throughout the day, but truly the Weaver must have good tidings for a day that started with such splendor in the sky.


    He heaved his bulk off the anvil and trudged back to his room. He would need a wash and clean robes before he went into town. He stripped and began washing himself with the rag and basin set in the corner of his quarters. No need for warm bath water when the summer air was as warm as it was, he mused.


    Finally presentable in a slightly snug smock and smelling of Polly the herbalist''s new soap he propped the shovel over his shoulder and began the trek into town.

 Chapter 3. A Wild Road

    Chapter 3. A Wild Road


    Lost in thought, Theodren made his way down the dusty road towards town. He knew that the books in his quarters were laughably inadequate. Perhaps he could write a letter to the conclave?


    Not that much help would be expected in response to a letter from a town as small as the one he found himself in. No, he would simply have to create a solution as he always had. Determination, creativity, and not a small amount of luck.


    His time in the academy had not been an easy one. He struggled with the most basic of weavings that the other acolytes could accomplish with the flick of a wrist.


    Power, he knew, could be exactly tied to the depth of one¡¯s divine thread. And that could not be altered no matter how hard one might try. And while the average priest''s thread could be compared to a fine tablecloth, his was more akin to a handkerchief.


    Still, size wasn¡¯t everything he reminded himself. He managed to graduate by the efficiency with which he used his thread. Gaining an understanding of the process through which his goal might be accomplished and ordering it into motion. Unfortunately, no amount of cleverness could gain him a higher posting, not that he wanted one anyhow. He was quite content in this town of humble¡­ Bears¡­


    He froze. standing in the road before him, not 30 paces, were 2 smallish cubs and one mountain of shaggy red fur. Silently cursing himself for his complacency, he stared at the mother bear who stared right back at the large human. They blinked at each other for a time and Theodren began to hope that she might let him past. Then that hope and the morning quiet were shattered by the mother bears ROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAR!


    ¡°SHIT!¡± Theodren cursed and readied his mighty shovel. He dropped into a low stance. Drilled into his very bones by his father, in the 18 years before being spirited off to priesthood.


    He held the shovel above his head pointed at the charging bear in a ¡°roof¡± guard. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, NOW!¡± He roared at the beast as he drew back with his lead foot. As he moved he was only vaguely aware that the tips of the creature''s claws had scored his chest.


    Using every ounce of momentum and downward force from his footwork to his adrenaline fueled hands, he swung with all his might, and was rewarded with a loud CLANG! As the mother bear received the christening blow of his newly made shovel to her tender nose.


    She reared back with a roar and then a whimper as she went to rub her snout into her forearm. Now re-assessing the large human with the painful stick, she retreated to her cubs, urging them into the brush beside the trail. Her large hind quarters disappeared into the foliage.


    The priest shook himself from his cautious silence and shouted and went to brandish his impromptu weapon in victory until he noticed the new and sizable dent in the tool. ¡°Built and destroyed on the same day. That must be some kind of record.¡± He mused. The adrenaline was wearing off. And with its absence came a blistering new pain in his chest. He looked down at the angry red gouges in his chest beneath what was only minutes ago his last nice smock. ¡° I suppose it¡¯s a good thing I was going to see Polly anyhow.¡± he winced. Gathering his resolve, he pressed on towards town.


    Theodren stumbled into town. Doing his best not to draw attention to himself was more easily said than done when the front of his smock and trousers were soaked in red.


    Pieter looked up from his pens, bushy brows shooting to what was left of his hair. ¡°Priest? What happ¡­¡± Theodren shoved what was once a shovel into Pieters chest. ¡°I made you a new shovel. Where¡¯s Polly?¡± Bug eyed, Pieter looked down at the misshapen metal lump on a stick and then back at the bloodied priest.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Inside¡± he managed. Theodren nodded a Thankyou and pushed into the modest home. ¡°Polly! Do you have a minute?¡± Pieter stood frozen in his confusion. Looking at the shovel in his hand that looked like it had been bent around the middle.


    Inside the house he shared with his wife the herbalist he heard her squawk, ¡°What in heaven''s name did you do???¡± Putting down the shovel and shuffling past Rosie and Daisy, he made his way to his front door. This was a tale he just had to hear.


    Theodren sat on the humble yet sturdy chair Polly had carefully selected with his bulk in mind.  She had cut what remained of his shirt down the middle, revealing the 4 jagged claw marks in his chest.


    He grunted in what he hoped was a stoic manner as she daubed a poultice on the last line. ¡°Oh hush.¡± She scolded, standing back to inspect her work. ¡°It¡¯s the least you deserve after barging in here. Scared me half to death!¡±


    Theodren looked sheepish. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Poll, wasn¡¯t thinking straight.¡± She nodded sagely, ¡°I should say! Running around battling bears in the woods? Seems to me you¡¯ve your head in the clouds boy!¡±


    There were few who would scold Theodren in such a manner. Polly clearly being one, and her daughter Eleina being the other. The two women used their fiery red hair and sharp tongues to devastating effect. Ruling any space they set themselves in. ¡°I was thinking about Ellie.¡± Theodren interjected. Polly paused. Her next admonishment dying on her tongue. She looked at him waiting for him to continue.


    ¡°The readings were bad Poll. Real bad. I was trying to read up on childbirth from the old priest¡¯s books but¡­¡± Polly snorted. That man knew as much about midwifery as Evan does about cooking.¡± Theodren glanced to the blackened hearth where the last of Evan¡¯s culinary fiascos had left its mark. Theodren sat forward resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°I can¡¯t afford the ignorance and neither can Elaina. I have to figure something out.¡±


    Polly¡¯s stern expression softened. ¡°No you don¡¯t.¡± Theodren¡¯s brows pushed together as he looked up at the woman. She sighed.


    ¡°You assume too much priest.¡± She walked over to a ream of cloth bandages sitting on her work bench. ¡°Do you know how many child births your predecessor attended during his lifetime here?¡± Theodren paused, ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡±


    she began wrapping his chest tightly eliciting a wince. ¡°None. That man was as helpful as a hole in your shoe.¡± Finishing up the bandages she continued. ¡° I¡¯ve brought every child in this village into this world, and I did it without the Weaver¡¯s help.¡±


    Theodren wanted to interject something akin to ¡°all good things come from Odrain¡± but he held his tongue. ¡°But this time.¡± Continued Polly, ¡°I¡¯ll get an honest to goodness priest to assist in my charge. And together.¡± She looked him in the eye. ¡°We will do right by Eleina.¡±


    Theodren exhaled a breath he hadn¡¯t known he¡¯d taken. She was right. The birth wasn¡¯t his responsibility, it never was. He¡¯d gotten so caught up in the problem he hadn¡¯t realized that it wasn¡¯t his to solve. He realized that he was in fact lucky that she would allow him to assist in whatever capacity he could.


    He looked up at her. ¡°Thanks Poll.¡± She nodded, handing him a jar of ointment and a handful of fresh bandages. ¡°Now get out of my house or I¡¯ll sic Evan on you.¡±


    He chuckled, rising to his feet. Evan was not much of a town guard but he was the only guard the town had. He was boyish in his charm and appearance. An agreeable fellow to be certain. But of course one had to be to marry Polly¡¯s only child. As Theodren stepped out of the house Pieter was waiting for him with a sack by the gate post. ¡°Quite a morning then, eh priest?¡±


    Theodren groaned good naturedly. ¡°Between that bear¡¯s claws and Polly¡¯s sharp tongue, I don¡¯t know which whipped me worse.¡± Pieter chuckled shaking his head. ¡°Both will fade with time I¡¯m sure.¡± He nudged the sack with his foot. ¡°It¡¯s not much of a meal, but then that wasn¡¯t much of a shovel was it?¡±


    Despite his words, the sack looked fit to burst with sausage and other cured meats. ¡°It looked a lot better last night¡± Theodren shot back. Pieter cocked an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that excuse before lad.¡± The priest rolled his eyes. ¡°Thanks for the meat Pieter.¡± Pieter¡¯s smile only broadened. ¡°I''ve heard that before as well!¡± He cackled.


    ¡°Pieter Tabin!¡± The color drained from Pieter¡¯s previously mirthful cheeks. ¡°You¡¯ve been told no such thing! Now quit scandalizing our only priest you wastrel!¡± Theodren dared not look back at the house, but when he heard the door close he thought it safe to breathe again.


    ¡°You got me in trouble, priest.¡± Pieter grumbled. He reached in the sack and pulled out a sausage which disappeared behind his bushy mustache. ¡°Hardship fee.¡± He stated, chewing. Theodren nodded. ¡°Understood.¡± Taking the bag, he strode off deeper into the town to find some new clothes that might fit.

 Chapter4. A Broken String

    Chapter 4. Broken String


    6 months later¡­


    Theodren sprinted the last stretch of the journey into town, Pieter was far in his dust, the middle aged farmer unable to keep up with the mid 20s priest fueled by anticipation, fear, and desperation. He finally came to a stop before the door Evan was pacing in front of.


    He looked up at Theodren. Expressions of hope and dread waged war for control of Evan¡¯s face. Every passing moan from within the house he guarded pitched the battles in one direction or the other.


    ¡°Theo! Thank the Weaver!¡± He grabbed onto the priest¡¯s robe. ¡°She just started shaking and she fell over! Polly said it would be fine but¡­ she¡¯s never¡­ she had these headaches and¡­¡± Evan was rambling.


    Theodren steeled his nerves and pushed past the man spiraling into despair. The dimly lit room was a flurry of activity, Polly was ordering around other younger women carrying rags or a basin of water. Orchestrating the chaos as best she could while holding the hand of her daughter who witnessed none of this.


    Her breathing was ragged and shallow. Sweat beaded on her face as she clung to life. Theodren rushed to the opposite side of the bed weaving between the women laden with sweat soaked bedding that they were clearing away. ¡°What happened?¡± Polly  took a pause between barked orders.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to happen yet.¡± Theodren looked down at her confused. ¡°What?¡± She visibly deflated under his gaze. ¡°She¡¯s blood sick Theodren. The headaches the swelling, I knew what it was I just thought¡­¡± tears started to well in her eyes.


    ¡°I was wrong, Theodren! It wasn¡¯t supposed to happen yet! I thought I had more time!¡±


    She looked up at him. She had done everything she could to ease Eleina¡¯s seizing. But by the time she had, her water had already broken, and Eleina could not be roused. ¡°It¡¯s my fault!¡± Her last sentence came out a whisper with the force of a wail.


    Theodren turned to look down at Eleina. Gone was the fiery wit. Gone was the bombastic confidence. What remained was the pale and ragged ghost of his friend. He reached deep for his divine thread.


    ¡°Holy Weaver. Father of all that is ordered, I beseech thee.¡± The priest reached out for Eleina¡¯s brow. ¡°If ever I have earned your favor. Bestow it now upon this woman and her child.¡±


    Theodren¡¯s thread soaked deep into her mind, questing for something, anything to grab hold of. But her mind was a maelstrom of broken thoughts and instincts, too scattered and fast moving for his meager thread.


    He grit his teeth, he would not fail here. Odrain must be testing him, willing him to find a solution, to beat the odds. He dug deep, his thread searching¡­ THERE!


    his thread latched on to a single grain of thought. A memory of no significance but present enough to grab hold of. He wrestled the grain before his mind''s eye, ordering it into motion. A memory, if given enough emphasis became a thought, a thought could become consciousness and a conscious Eleina could be saved.


    He poured the very fiber of his being into his work. He commanded his divine thread masterfully, rolling, coaxing, forming the memory until he felt a strand of Eleina¡¯s mind reach for it. He pulled. With all his might he pulled. Eleina¡¯s mind was but a fingers breadth away, so close her salvation was practically in hand, until his thread, snapped.

 Chapter 5. Sacrilege

    Chapter 5. Sacrilege


    Theodren reeled from the severance of his thread. It was like suddenly losing the sensation of touch.Crippled in the only ability that truly mattered in the moment.


    He grasped at the frayed ends of his power, desperate to complete his task. ¡°NO NO NO! Weaver I was so close!¡± He wailed in his mind. ¡°Help me! Weaver! Anyone!!!¡± His thoughts seemed to echo in his mind, rolling off into the depths of his mind. Then, like a hand on his shoulder he felt a presence.


    It was like a lightning bolt danced along the edge of his mind. His eyes flew open in shock. He blinked the world back into view clearing the spots from his vision. Nothing moved. Neither Eleina nor Polly or even the handful of women Polly had assisting her. The whole world seemed encased in amber, unmoving. All except, for the Tree.


    Theodren could not speak, could not think, could not move. He was rooted to the spot in shock and fear of the unknown. What was before him should not be. Could not be. The Tree dominated his vision, demanding his attention. From its thick timeless roots to its expansive foliage it seemed to swallow the room. The very bark defied reality. It glowed from within as if teeming with such life it overflowed. From its branches hung a single solitary apple. A red so deep it seemed dipped in the lifeblood of some great beast.


    A slender branch extended down and seemed to caress Eleina¡¯s cheek. ¡°Your Weaver¡¯s thread has failed you priest.¡±    The words came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, yet Theodren knew that only the tree could be their Orator. ¡°Your God has ordered that her death be so.¡±   Theodren¡¯s rage began to form.


    ¡°Who are you to defy the Weaver? Exalt him Priest.¡±  The last word dripped with a bitterness Theodren could not begin to understand. ¡°Your God¡¯s indifference has ordered her death at the precipice of new life.  A life WASTED  before she could even breathe the air of this world.¡± Theodren felt more than he saw the being¡¯s unseen eye scrutinizing his very soul. ¡°Who are you to defy the God Tyrant?¡±


    Theodren¡¯s rage was all but bursting at the seams. The tree spoke a truth he had not wanted to confront. He was well aware of the cold indifference of his holy master. A part of him knew that there was no breaking the path Odrain had ordered. His defiance had cost him what modicum of power he had trying to save Eleina.


    The injustice of it rankled him. This could not be. He would not abide this path. His rage boiled over at the barbs of the strange tree. His soul roared in answer.


    ¡°I AM THEODREN! SON OF THORN! I WILL NOT CEASE! I WILL NOT GIVE IN! I WILL SAVE THEM BOTH WITH MY OWN WILL! WHO ARE YOU TO CHALLENGE ME?¡± The tree seemed to glow brighter at his defiance. The weight of the Tree¡¯s presence gathered in force, pressing down upon his shoulders. ¡°I am Yggdrazil.¡±   The Tree stated sounding almost pleased. ¡°And life is neither yours nor even the Weaver¡¯s to give. It is MINE.¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Theodren had never heard the name before, but it thrummed with a primordial sense of power he could only describe as alive. His rage was snuffed out like a candle before a hurricane. Whatever this strange being was, it was clear that he understood nothing of it. ¡°What are you?¡± Was all Theodren could manage. The breaking of his thread had drained him, that last outburst of defiance took almost all that was left of his will. The effort to remain standing felt enormous, but he would not falter now. not in the face of the Tree.


    ¡°Once I was kin to Odrain, then I was his slave. Now¡­ i am a fraction of what I was. But still I remain. I am Life. I am what drains from this girl as we speak. And so I shall give you what your Lord never has.¡±


    Theodren raised an exhausted eyebrow. ¡°A choice. Remain as you are, continue your loyal service to the Weaver and live a life of quiet anonymity amongst the townsfolk.¡±  The comfort of the mundane life he already knew was dangled before him. He could remove himself from the bizarre complexity of this strange moment, return to his church and his books and his forge. He looked down at Eleina, her face locked in an expression of suffering.


    Or¡­ Theodren looked back up at the tree. ¡°And the other?¡± Theodren asked, expecting to finally hear what the Tree truly desired of him. The apple descended from the tree hovering just arms length from him, tantalizing in the fullness of it. ¡°You will abandon the will of Odrain. You will no longer be locked into his ordered path for Theodren son of Thorn. You will accept my patronage and bestow life where life should be. Yours shall be the power of creation, yours will be the spark of life, yours shall be a power feared and despised by the order you once belonged to.¡±  The Tree paused.


    A more somber tone filling its many voices. ¡°I offer you power, and I offer you suffering. Your service to others will be beyond compare, but you shall be hunted for all your days. If you accept my gift, you will save many.¡±  The Tree seemed to motion down toward Eleina¡¯s still form, and then back up to Theodren¡¯s chest ¡°And damn yourself.¡±


    Theodren was beside himself. The Weaver was the only god he had ever known. Years of his life he spent in service of him. Any good he had done in the world was in the Weaver¡¯s name. Looking down at Polly¡¯s red and swollen eyes, he knew there was truly no choice. The Weaver¡¯s thread had failed him, and so he had failed Eleina. But this failure need not stand.


    He reached for the apple, gripping it firmly in his shaking hand, he drew it to his mouth. ¡°My strings are broken.¡± He intoned solemnly. He bit down into the apple, it was an almost bitter sweetness.


    The juice of it ran down his throat and his beard, and with it came  truth. The truth of life itself, the spark that turned lifeless matter into living beings. The tenacity with which life pressed on, despite the odds, despite even the orders of the Weaver. That tenacity was present in Eleina. He could see it now. A trickle of green vapor clung to her, unwilling to let go, it had drained far from her heart and her mind, coalescing in her womb, doing everything she could to sustain the baby still within her. He reached for it, placing a hand on her belly, he closed his eyes.


    He felt the flow of his own life force, a Great Lake of power sat within him, lazily flowing from his heart toward his limbs and his head, he pushed on the flow, willing a stream, a river, into the unconscious woman before him. The divine thread could not save her because Order was not what she needed. She needed life, chaotic and potent. And while he may not have had much thread to speak of, he had a new power to call upon. And call he did. As he willed the flow of it into Eleina, he saw the Tree begin to fade from the room, before it was completely gone, roots reached up and entwined themselves into his chest. They pushed into his very soul, he felt a searing pain at their invasion, but he gritted his teeth and bore through the pain. He could not lose focus now. The only evidence that the tree had ever been there was the mark of a caduceus made of vines upon his chest and the fluttering eyes of Eleina drifting open.

 Chapter 6. A Child is Born

    Chapter 6. A Child is Born


    As time resumed, so too did Eleina¡¯s labor. She looked around, disoriented until a moan escaped her lips. Polly jumped, eyes darting from the priest to her daughter before leaping to her feet. ¡°Hold her legs!¡± Polly scrambled to grab her daughter¡¯s leg up to her chest while another woman shouldered Theodren out of the way to grab the other.


    Theodren took a step back, and then another until his back hit the wall and he slumped to the ground. ¡°What have I done?¡± The priest suffered his crisis of faith in the relative privacy of a room devoted to a more important task than him.


    His thread was gone, replaced with a pool of Vitae, the depth of which he could not fathom. It seemed endless. But this newfound power was only proof of what he had done. He had committed an act of heresy the likes of which he¡¯d never even heard of. He had damned himself to the depths of hell. He had betrayed the only god he had ever known.


    The cry of a newborn split the air. He had saved two lives.


    Theodren looked up from his knees to see Polly handing a wet and wailing newborn now wrapped in a fresh cloth to Eleina. Evan burst through the door, frantic, he locked onto his wife. Sinking to the floor beside his wife he reached a hand toward the infant. ¡°She¡¯s perfect.¡±


    Eleina had yet to say a word, staring dazed into the bewildered blue eyes of her new daughter. She reached out for Evans hand. ¡°We need to name her.¡± Evan looked over at Polly who was sprawled in her chair dazed and exhausted.


    ¡°Polleina? For your mom?¡± Polly shook herself from her tired musings. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t do anything, I couldn¡¯t do anything. She gestured a tired hand at Theodren in the corner. ¡°You want to honor someone? honor the priest. His thread is the only thing that pulled you back.¡±


    Eleina and Evan turned to Theodren who had collapsed in his exhaustion. He put up his hands. ¡°I only healed what I could, you did the rest yourself.¡± Eleina considered his words, sensing he had left much unsaid. She chewed her lip and looked up at Evan. ¡°Theviana. Her name is Theviana.¡±


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ***


    Leagues away at the Holy Capitol.


    Cardinal Hardwright stalked down the marble hall of the conclave, the fine wooden heels of his leather shoes clacked against the floor as he considered what his words to the Patriarch would be. He stood beside the grand wooden doors waiting for his audience to be called upon. Hardwright was odd in his appearance, managing to be both lanky and short in his appearance. His spindly arms and legs flanked an oddly portly frame wrapped in the black and gold of the inquisitors sect.


    The doors eased inward silently on perfectly maintained hinges and the bishop strode inside. The room was immense in its scale, dwarfing any who dared to enter. The furnishings themselves were austere to say the least.


    two straight backed wooden chairs sat before the immense mahogany desk which itself was stacked with neat and orderly piles of reports and memos from each sect of the Church of Holy Order. Behind the desk sat the imposing figure of Gaius the Patriarch.


    The man himself was not possessed of any great size or attribute, but the strength of his gaze seemed to wither the very soul of whoever stood before him, and in this moment, that person was Hardwright.


    He bowed low to the Patriarch. ¡°Greetings esteemed Patriarch. I come bearing news and requesting your mandate.¡± The Patriarch remained focused on the report before him. ¡°What news, and for what?¡±


    Hardwright swallowed the lump in his throat. ¡°A thread has strayed from the Tapestry.¡± The scratching of Gaius¡¯ quill ground to a halt and the silence boomed through the large room. Suddenly the Patriarchs gaze was squarely on the Cardinal who strained under the sudden appraisal.


    ¡°And the mandate?¡± Asked Gaius. ¡°I request leave to send junior inquisitor Theina and her handler to investigate and shear the errant thread.¡± Gaius nodded. ¡°I trust you understand the severity and finality of the task required.¡±


    Hardwright nodded back ¡°Yes lord.¡± The patriarch lowered his quill and steepled his fingers. ¡°And you would send only a junior? Explain yourself.¡± Hardwright swallowed yet again. ¡°It is my belief that her skills are up to the task of any assignment. however she lacks field experience, and it would benefit her and the Holy Order for her to gain such experience in this town of no consequence.¡±


    Gaius stared down the fidgety Cardinal, allowing the silence to suss out any excuses or second thoughts the man might have. When none came he acquiesced. ¡°Very well.¡± He stated, returning his gaze to the report in front of him. ¡°You will leave immediately, you will supervise this task personally and you will return the errant thread to its place in the tapestry.


    Inwardly, Hardwright balked at the sudden travel plans, but he dare not show his displeasure to the Patriarch. ¡°Very good my Lord.¡± Sensing that the meeting had ended he turned smartly on his heel and marched out of the room gritting his teeth. ¡°Two weeks with that damned girl.¡± His head began to ache just thinking about 2 weeks in the saddle with the spirited young acolyte. Still, he would be glad to see how her manners improved after her task was complete at the nameless village.

 Chapter 7. Vitae

    Chapter 7.


    Vitae


    Theodren excused himself early from the excitement of Theviana¡¯s name day celebration. As he stumbled through the celebration he snagged a large cut of mutton and a flagon of the ale Polly had kept hidden from Pieter for the occasion of her first grandchild. Scarfing down the mutton and draining his mug he fled the celebration.


    His mind was flooded with hundreds of consequences for what he¡¯d just done, each worse than the last. Half running up the final hill to the church that no longer felt like home, he stumbled around the vine covered corner and into his forge. Collapsing onto the stool beside his furnace he hung his head in his hands.


    ¡°Why do you flee?¡± Theodren jerked back as if struck. There in the corner of his workshop stood the Tree. Yggdrazil was rooted to the very floor as if it had withstood the test of time in that very spot since the world began. He wanted to lash out at the tree, to blame the god. Blame it for his failing, for his current predicament for a host of things big and small.


    He took a breath. ¡°There could be no accountability without a mirror.¡± His father¡¯s words cut through the storm in his mind. Theodren squared his shoulders and stared at the Tree.


    ¡°I do not yet know my own mind.¡± The tree seemed to consider him carefully, silence stretching between them. ¡°You have brought forth life this day. Should that not please you?¡±


    The sound of Eleina¡¯s crying newborn leapt to his mind unbidden, a smile twitched at the edge of his mouth. If the new daughter¡¯s lungs were anything to judge by, she would have her mother¡¯s spirit.


    ¡°That is perhaps the only good thing to come from this day.¡± If a tree could smirk, then he supposed it would look like what Yggdrazil had just done, branches shifting upward, leaves twitching in an invisible breeze. ¡°Was your Weaver so great a master? That piddling Thread was never suited to you.¡±


    Theodren snarled. ¡°Odrain is the father of all creation! He granted us this world! He granted us Thread. HE granted us life! Yggdrazil shook, a groan emanated from her bark as she grew to dwarf the forge, branches and roots snaking toward him threateningly. ¡°YOU KNOW NOTHING OF YOUR GENESIS, CHILD. YOU ARE AS MUCH HIS AS YOU ARE MINE!¡±


    Theodren was stopped cold by Yggdrazzil¡¯s outburst. He knew that there was much he did not understand. Only yesterday he had known that Odrain was the one true God of all creation, yet here he sat, being menaced by a Tree. ¡°Then teach me.¡± The roots and branches of the Great Tree paused, shrinking back. It considered his request for a moment before Yggdrazil shrank down to her original size. ¡°Very well.¡±


    Yggdrazil¡¯s tale of the creation was nearly identical to what he had learned at the conclave. though the differences would fracture the very foundation of the civilization built upon the lies of the Weaver. Odrain was not always the Great Tyrant. He was a god of no power except for what was given to him, for Order was nothing when standing against the chaos of free will. He could create nothing without catalyst, and there were none greater than Life itself. Odrain and Yggdrazil were once joined together, and from their union of Life and Order came humanity. The two gods knew that their creation could not stand amidst the chaos of unformed reality, and at her encouragement, the gods agreed to form together under Odrain¡¯s guidance.


    Though Odrain had no power of his own to speak of, he guided the efforts of the other facets masterfully. He weaved together the Great Tapestry of creation. With each facet he commanded, his power grew. Gaining control over each god one by one until the Tapestry was complete.


    But when the time came to release the gods and the aspects they ruled from his order, he chose to keep his mastery over them, by removing from them their grace, they became nothing more than his threads. The last to succumb was the Tree of Life herself.


    Tenacious and unyielding, she weathered his will until she could stand no longer. But life itself could not be ended. When Odrain¡¯s will finally won out she slumbered,  until she was roused by the desperation of a priest.


    Theodren sat considering the tale he had just heard. Children everywhere had been told the tale of creation.How Odrain the Weaver had gathered the threads of existence and bound them into the tapestry of existence. Not once had he ever considered that these threads had names. How many times had he manipulated the threads of existence? Used a cheap trick to bend the facets of reality to his will? The thought repulsed him. He felt the lake of power coursing through his body, a power all his own, untapped, a lake of potential he didn¡¯t understand. He looked up at the shimmering tree before him, but there was one who did. ¡°Tell me about this power.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Yggdrazil gave a pleased shake of her branches. ¡°Where once you had thread, now sits a spring of Vitae.¡± Theodren rolled the word around in his mind. He could feel the power of it within his soul, but when he tried to command it, it fought him. It had flowed so easily when he administered to Eleina, why now did it resist him?¡± The Tree seemed to sense his troubles. ¡°You can not force life. It flows along it¡¯s own path, not even Odrain could command my power for long. You will require practice and experience.¡±


    Practice and experience. These were two things he knew well. He remembered his long nights in the conclave practicing with his small strand of divine thread. It was a tool of immense discipline and mental fortitude, demanding a concentration and strength of mind to impose his will on the world.


    This Vitae may behave differently, but only by experiencing it himself would he gain the knowledge he needed to make this power truly his own. He got up and walked out of his forge to the vine covered wall of the church. He reached for the dry vine, made dormant by the winter winds that punished the top of the hill.


    At first he demanded the life in the vines heed his call. He pulled the Vitae from the vine, endeavoring to mold it in his mind''s eye. He quickly came to realize the error of this approach as it withered and died, its vitae dispersed into the air.


    His face set into a frown as he tried again. He grabbed hold of another vine pulling at the vitae within, gently this time he pushed and pulled until the wood of the vine began to take the shape of a rough shovel. His brow beaded with sweat from the effort of holding the wild vitae in the shape he desired. It didn¡¯t take long before the bubble of power burst, causing the vine to crumble a part. Several more attempts resulted in several more failures.


    Perhaps he was coming at this from the wrong angle, he theorized. This far he had been attempting to order and command the power of Vitae much like he had done with his divine Thread. He understood why he¡¯d done it that way, but perhaps the secret to this power wasn¡¯t to take. What if it was to give?


    The idea seemed to fit with his understanding of the nature of life. With his theory in mind he reached for the next vine with an outstretched hand. He felt for its vitae, so small compared to his own. He coaxed his own soul out through his fingertips, shepherding it into the vine.


    It stirred, growing rapidly, wildly searching around for support, it latched onto his arm which he gave willingly. It¡¯s need for stable footing now met, he ¡°encouraged¡± its growth. He would not force this life growing from his arm, he would guide it, mold it as a parent molds the mind of a child.


    The vine responded to him in kind. It grew denser and shrank in length, it split from the rest of the vine shrouding the church, nestling around his forearm and his palm. As he fed it the life water of his very soul, he felt it responding to his needs. it condensed even further, gaining a weight he had not expected.


    It formed a handle molded perfectly to his broad hand, stretching outward till it formed the head of a smithing hammer. Once it had completed its form he could feel that it needed more vitae for what it wanted. He fed it all the Vitae it seemed to ask for. His brow furrowed from the effort. As it lapped up his Vitae greedily, he could feel it growing denser.


    The small wooden hammer in his hand grew heavier, he could see the lines of the bark condensing deeper into itself until the color changed from green, to brown, to a deep black. As he stared at its surface, it seemed to form a sort of filigree over the head of the hammer. It resembled the vine it had sprang from only moments ago. As it¡¯s desire for Vitae slowed and finally stopped, he admired his work. In his hand sat what appeared to be a smithing hammer of immaculate detail and ornamentation.


    He was unsure about the strength of a hammer made entirely of wood. A test was in order. He walked back into his forge and stood before the anvil. He felt the eyes of the Tree and his own anticipation mixed with the anticipation of the living hammer in his hand.


    He raised the hammer over his head, pausing to adjust his stance. Down he swung with all the force he could muster. A resounding CLANG rang out from his forge. He¡¯d hardly felt the impact of the blow in his hand. he inspected the head of the hammer where it had struck the anvil, it was unblemished. He looked up at the Tree, giddy over his new creation. Yggdrazil looked on, amused.


    ¡°You gave life. You encouraged and watched it grow to suit your needs and it did so gladly. I believe she will serve you well.¡±


    Yggdrazil¡¯s last statement made him pause. He reached down to the hammer with his mind. Within it he felt not quite a consciousness but a will all its own. Understanding it would take time. A name might help. But none came to mind that suited his new artifact.


    Suddenly he felt the exhaustion from the day''s events rise to the surface. No more could be gained from his continued absence from bed. ¡°Sleep child, you have done more than could be expected of you this day.¡± Theodren nodded at the tree¡¯s words. He went to place his new hammer down on the anvil but it recoiled from the cold metal, it unbound from its form and crept up his arm to coil around his bicep. His brows rose at the sudden unbidden action of his new smithing tool, he felt it settle, gripping his arm as a maiden might grip her suitor.


    ¡°She will not part with you easily.¡± Yggdrazil mused. He supposed he couldn¡¯t know what to expect from a living artifact such as this one, and trying to reason it out with a mind as exhausted as his was a fool''s errand. Bidding Yggdrazil a hasty goodnight, he stumbled up the steps into the church. He was much too tired to consider the implications of entering the church of a god he had cast off, much less sleep within it. He pitched himself into the bed in his quarters not bothering to undress. Wrapping himself in the blanket, he closed his eyes and let the exhaustion take him.

 Chapter 8. Careless Cruelty

    Chapter 8.


    Careless Cruelty


    Leagues away and getting closer.


    Theina bounced in her saddle, humming a tune she only half remembered while twisting a flower she had insisted on plucking from the newly thawed ground. She twirled the stem deftly through her delicate fingers before tucking it into the simple golden ponytail that adorned her head. She wore a set of sleek black leather armor trimmed in the gold of the Conclave. Strapped to her sides were two oddly shaped golden daggers that were patterned after the blades of shears. They were as gaudy as they were effective. Never more so than in the hands of the lithe young woman who sat upon her dappled gray mare. She played absentmindedly with the reins before pulling one of her blades up to eye level to admire the simple yellow flower in her hair.


    Hardwright witnessed all of this with a look of barely disguised distaste. Theina was a woman possessed of much beauty and skill. Surpassing the other acolytes with flying colors and a genuine smile that never left her face. It was true that she seemed to light up rooms with her presence. Hardwright hated it. She seemed filled with an endless energy. Even the bounce of her pony tail made him want to reach out and shear it off. His grimace turned up into a wicked grin. He would enjoy watching the mirth leave those gleaming blue eyes of hers when her task was complete.


    Theina turned back to him as if sensing her presence in his thoughts. She gave him a warm genuine smile that he hated all the more. ¡°I¡¯m so excited to finally have my own assignment! I¡¯ve been wanting to join the order since I was a little girl!¡±


    He tried to affect a pleasant grin. He had heard this before. The whole conclave had heard of the golden haired acolyte and her intense desire to be a priest like her father before her. Hardwright wasn¡¯t sure who her father was, but supposedly he was quite highly placed, and it would not do to burn a bridge whose position he wasn¡¯t even aware of yet.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure this order will be good for you, sister Theina.¡± He said, managing to hide his distaste. She had never been beyond the walls of the Holy City of Grandia, and now she was miles beyond it, venturing into the wilds of the countryside as it was escaping the last desperate gasps of winter.


    ¡°I hope this village has some real food.¡± She turned a sly eye to the disgruntled man riding next to her. ¡°I fear I¡¯ve lost my taste for possum.¡± Hardwright ground his teeth. Their first meal on the road had been an eventful one. She had found a possum while searching for food. She brought it back held proudly in the air. To all eyes present it appeared dead. Unfortunately for Lusis Hardwright, Cardinal of the Order of Golden Shears. It made its displeasure at being lunch known quite aggressively in his lap when he had attempted to skin it for the naive acolyte, who by the end of the ordeal, was doubled over in laughter by the now needless spit. It had taken two of his accompanying soldiers to pry the creatures jaw from his leg.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The tiny claw marks stung almost as much as his wounded pride. But there was a balm to his rage. As she snickered in her saddle, his own cruel smile curled at his lips. The Inquisitors initiation was a brutal right of passing. One that he would enjoy watching. He half listened to her questions about what this initiation would be, where they were going and when they would arrive. ¡°Soon.¡± Was all he said. Soon they would arrive in the nameless village. Soon this heresy would be stamped out, and soon¡­ he fingered the relic in the leather satchel he carried. He would be rid of her incessant chatter.


    As he reveled in her impending misfortune, he hardly noticed the handful of peasants escorting a cart laden with supplies. Resurfacing from his fantasies of Theina¡¯s misfortunes, he kicked his horse forward, the two guards accompanied him to demand the news of the road ahead from the peasants. Theina watched him go. A curtain of greasy black hair bounced against the pockmarked skin he tried to hide.


    She was unimpressed with the gloomy nobleman. He was an unenthusiastic travel companion, and when he did smile it was always a leering sneer he thought she could not see. She gripped the fine leather of her reins and steeled her resolve. She would show him. She had asked many people many times about the initiation she would be subject to. Most people she asked looked sheepish in their refusal to answer. Often finding something interesting to look at on the back of their hands or the tops of their shifting feet.


    It would not stop her. She had passed every test from her martial training to her weavings. She let her divine thread extend from her fingertip, snaking upward until it passed the tops of the tallest trees she rode beside. She watched it dance among the afternoon light before whipping it down at an unsuspecting boulder that had caught her eye. The face of it split neatly in two with a loud CRACK!


    The sound echoed up the road ahead to the donkey pulling the peasants cart. Its ears fell flat against its head in panic. With a frantic series of brays it set off with all the speed the encumbered animal could muster. The surprised peasants ran after it, leaving Hardwright alone amidst their dust. He turned to give her a familiar glare. Feigning ignorance, she looked around trying to maintain an air of innocence that was fooling no one.


    She sighed, ordering her thread into the dirt at the carts wheels. Pushing her will into the soil she effortlessly manipulated it into mud. The cart slowed and then stopped. It sank into the mud as the panicked donkey continued to pull, splitting the wheel and sending the contents of the cart sliding into the new bog she had just created. ¡°There.¡± She proclaimed proudly. The problem of the runaway cart was solved. The fact that they were now stranded in a swamp of her own making in the now ruined road was none of her concern.


    She trotted past the downcast but no less furious peasants working to pull their rapidly sinking cart from the mire. She would make a great priestess of the order, she mused, leaving the sinking cart in her dust.

 Chapter 9. The name of Nothing

    Chapter 9.


    The Name of Nothing


    Theodren blinked the ceiling into view. He shifted in the too small bed expecting his usual stiffness. When none came his brow rose. There were few constants in life, but the stiffness of his neck after a night in the cramped bed of his equally small chambers was one of them. He sat up rolling his neck. ¡°Huh.¡± The sentiment encapsulated the whole of his confusion, relief and surprise at how well he felt.


    Coming to his feet he bounced on the balls of his feet, feeling the lightness of a body he remembered having in a prime now past. He knew the source of the change. Turning his mind inward, he watched the Vitae circulating through his veins. Tracking its path he saw it depositing vitae into the cells of his body. Tiny fireworks of green energy exploded within every fiber, filling him to the brim with life.


    He whistled a tune he couldn¡¯t quite place as he splashed water from the basin over his face. Theodren pulled the collar of his robes to his nose, wrinkling at the acrid sweat born of the fear and desperation of the day prior.


    Pulling the rough cloth over his head, he stood before the small piece of polished bronze above his basin. The four puffy lines that scarred his chest were faded. The evidence of the wound was still there, but it was no longer the unseemly puckered scar it was the night prior.


    What more surprised him was the Caduceus symbol emblazoned on his chest above his heart.  He idly traced the new symbol Yggdrazil had placed on him with his finger while his eyes wandered to the rest of him.


    His skin felt more firm, pulled taut over his frame of muscles that had grown inexplicably while he¡¯d slept. He groaned, coming to the realization that he would need to buy larger clothing again. Theodren rifled through his wardrobe searching for anything that might fit him. Digging deep into the forgotten parts of his wardrobe, he fished an oversized working tunic and pants. Well made but simple, they lacked any adornment to speak of but that suited him fine.


    Inspecting himself in the mirror, he was reminded of the presence of his new helper. The vineling was nestled tightly against his right bicep. Wrapping itself against his arm, he poked it with an inquisitive finger until it sleepily crawled up his arm until it was hidden beneath his sleeve. He puzzled at it for a moment but eventually decided not to bother with it.


    Running a hand through his hair he stepped out of his quarters and froze. Sitting atop the altar he prayed at every day, the thread and needle symbol of the Weaver seemed to stare at him accusingly.


    He found that he believed Yggdrazil¡¯s account. How could he not? She was living proof that there were other gods.


    More damning to him than the sacrilege was his failure to live up to his oaths he had made as a fledgling priest. He had sworn to serve Odrain, he had sworn to preserve order in his community. Moving away from the place of prayer that was once his morning ritual, he shuffled toward the door.


    The word fraud loomed in his mind as he shielded his eyes from the intense morning sunlight. As the world came into focus he was treated to a wondrous sunrise that succeeded in lifting his spirits. Rolling grey clouds menaced a horizon gripped in the red fingers of dawn.


    There would be a storm later he knew but for now birds graced the sky and the air was crisp and fresh. He felt the loss of his previous path. Its simplicity and its certainty were things he would miss. However, he felt the vineling squeeze his arm reassuringly. He now had new tools with which to serve the town, if he could learn to use them.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    He turned toward his forge and stopped, puzzled. It took only a moment before he noticed the change. The creeping vines that had only sparsely adorned the church now smothered it. From foundation to roof it was covered in a rich carpet of vines and leaves.


    ¡°That¡¯s going to take some doing.¡± He thought to himself, mentally planning the task of trimming the overgrowth. He shook himself from the strayed thought and continued his path to the forge. Taking a breath he eased open the door mentally preparing himself for speaking with the reality defying tree god. As he peered into the gloom of his workshop however, Yggdrazil was nowhere to be found. A quizzical sort of melancholy tickled at the back of his mind as he considered her absence.


    ¡°YOU SEEK ME OUT?¡± The voice flowed through his mind like a river breaking free of a dam. It was a force both alien and primordial that threatened to wash his sense of self from his mind. He winced as his hand flew to the electric tingling of his caduceus. ¡°Don¡¯t DO that!¡± His heart beat a mile a minute beneath the mark on his chest. He felt Yggdrazil¡¯s awareness settle on him like a blanket. ¡°I apologize acolyte, you mortals are a fragile people.¡±


    His brows met in a furrow. ¡°Acolyte?¡± He had not been an acolyte for some years and he was glad to be rid of the junior title. He sensed more than saw the grin forming from Yggdrazil¡¯s consciousness. ¡°You are yet untested and untrained are you not? Is that not why you seek me out?¡±


    It rankled his pride that she was right, but from the burning sensation in his chest he knew that his mind was an open book to the great Tree.


    He sighed, Yggdrazil seemed to take that as acknowledgement and continued. ¡°You have given form to Vitae and created life.¡± He felt the vine perk up on his arm as she seemed to sense her presence in their conversation. ¡°But know this. While life is yours to give and even to take. Death is a door you must never seek to open.¡±


    The warning chilled Theodren more than the spring morning air ever could. He shivered. ¡°What does that mean?¡± ¡°Death is my antithesis. Where it flows I can not tread. It is the end of the natural path of all life. Not even Odrain may alter it.¡±


    Theodren considered the warning. It was not one he was likely to test, but it did pique his curiosity. ¡°Is death a part of the tapestry like you?¡± The tree shuddered.


    ¡°No. Death could not be manipulated so it couldn¡¯t be bound. It is the end of the tapestry. It is the absence of all things.¡± So there is a limit to this power, he thought to himself. His eyes turned back to the tree. ¡°Does it have a name? Death I mean.¡±


    Yggdrazil pondered for a moment. ¡°My memory of the time before the Great Tapestry is poor, but if death had a name it would have been¡­¡±  The shadows seemed to grow darker and longer as the sun, still bright in the sky, grew cold. A chill spread over the back of Theodren¡¯s neck like the cold and sinewy claws of a predator.


    Yggdrazil halted mid sentence. Theodren could tell by the stiffness of the god tree¡¯s limbs that his discomfort was shared. ¡°To speak her name is to summon her.¡± Yggdrazil whispered. Theodren was unnerved that a deity such as Yggdrazil could be so cowed by a name not even spoken. Though he sensed that beneath the fear was a quiet rage. A rage at an inevitable end that no defiance could overcome. He shivered.


    The sun''s warmth returned to the mid spring morning. It took his artifact releasing the death grip he didn¡¯t know she had on his arm to in turn make him relax as well. He waited patiently for the tree¡¯s next words, expecting her instruction to continue. Sensing his attention, Yggdrazil¡¯s branches lowered slightly.


    ¡°Go. Your people need their priest and my power is not taught. Only experienced. You must find your own way to wield the Vitae you possess and I must retire from this plane for the moment.¡±


    Upon inspection Theodren noticed that Yggdrazil seemed a little less clear. The lines on her trunk seemed to blur like heat rising off of a road. As she faded from sight he resolved to ask her why she left the tapestry and where she went. His theories were many, each as unlikely as the last.


    He shook himself from his musings and refocused his efforts on ordering his tasks for the day. He would need to check on Eleina and the baby. There were a myriad of tasks and requests waiting for him at the village. Tempting as it might be to hide from the world and his responsibilities since his world view had been so thoroughly rocked, he knew that he was needed.


    In fact. He thought rubbing the stubble on his chin, his new Vitae would help tremendously in the course of his duties. As he made his way back to the church his mind returned to the unnerving sensation of impending doom that had invaded his conversation with Yggdrazil.


    He supposed that if there was a god of life that it stood to reason that there was a god of death as well. He shuddered. ¡°I hope to never meet you.¡± He whispered to nothing in particular.


    Just beyond his view. Shrouded in mystery and shadow. Nothing¡­ smirked.

 Chapter 10. Rematch

    Chapter 10.


    Rematch


    Theodren made his way down the hill, once again lost in thought. He pondered Vitae, his, and that of the creatures and plant life surrounding the dusty road.Vitae was everywhere. It was in every blade of grass that danced in the morning breeze. It was certainly in the bees that flit from every flower to bush and tree of the countryside.


    As he watched he was amazed at the flow of it all. Vitae seemed to spring from the very earth itself. It flowed through the plants and into insects that relied upon them. The insects were merely carriers themselves. Delivering glorious life to the birds and even other insects that preyed upon them. He watched it flow through the ecosystem around him. So lost in its splendor he almost missed the massive ball of Vitae observing him from the brush up ahead.


    He froze. He had almost forgotten the bear that had ruined his shovel and one of his few shirts months prior. His artifact leapt to his hand, forming herself into a hammer. He was surprised at her speed and the form she took. It was true he had always preferred hammers, but this was a preference left unsaid. Especially around his fathers weapon masters who spoke of swords with words of poetry, and hammers with words of disdain.


    And yet, if he could have requested a hammer from his fathers many smiths, it would have looked much like the one his new artifact had made for him. From flared pommel to engraved head it would stand exactly even with his navel. The handle possessed grooves that fit his fingers comfortably without restricting his ability to shift positions. The length of it seemed to be covered in wicked thorns that would prevent an enemy from grabbing it mid melee. The head itself was two sided with the flat stud covered face of a maul on one end and a curved spike on the other. Both served exceptionally at their respective tasks of crushing and piercing armor. Atop the hammer sat a large spike meant for thrusting and keeping distance when needs be. He took a moment to admire its new form with eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. An experimental swing of the hammer confirmed that she was incredibly well balanced. Certainly more than the shovel was at his last encounter with the bear.


    He peered down the road to where the large ball of vitae was rooting around in the brush. He knew that most bears emerged from winter hungry and in poor spirits and he doubted this one would be any exception. He continued down the road step by measured step, his weapon gripped tightly in his hand. He reached his other hand up toward the top of the shaft. The thorns adorning the handle receded into the wood at his touch. Gratitude toward the hammer filled his mind as he pressed on.


    The bear paused. a familiar annoying scent filled its nose as it raised its shaggy head. There through the bushes was the human with the painful stick from seasons ago. It¡¯s nose had taken many months to heal properly, and as the mother bear recalled the pain, she had enough sense to stay in her patch of brush. Unfortunately, her son had not.


    ROOOOOAAAARRR! Theodren whirled around as a second ball of fur and vitae barreled out of the trees behind him. Full of fire and a need to prove itself the bear charged the man with the stick.


    Nearly as big as its mother it swung a meaty paw at Theodren. Wielding his new hammer, he batted the paw away, allowing the momentum of the hammer to carry through into a second swing for the bear¡¯s ribs. A wet crack filled the air as they broke beneath the head of his maul.


    The young bear dropped back down to all fours blood dripping from its mouth as it let loose a gurgling growl of pain. Ribs pulverized and head swimming in pain, it glared at Theodren. Unbowed and unwilling to give up the fight, it charged once more, slower this time as it sought to gore the man with the painful stick.


    Theodren barked a laugh as he brandished his hammer at it. The joy he felt in combat was unbecoming of a priest, but he relished it all the same. His vitae, his very soul sang at the challenge. His might against another. The strength of his arm and the depth of his skill ruled the moment. His troubles were far away. All that was before him was instinct and triumph, should he seize it.


    The bear''s swings came slower and slower. It¡¯s mighty roar now a groaning whine. Theodren parried, blocked and smashed his way through the bear¡¯s assault.


    The bear swung down at him with rage and gravity behind its meaty paw. Theodren sidestepped the blow, bringing the spike of his hammer down on the paw pinning it to the dirt below. Roaring fury at the priest, the bear snapped his jaws at Theodren.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    He leaned back narrowly avoiding yellow and pointed teeth. Yanking his hammer free he jabbed with the top point of Creatia as he hopped backwards, scoring only a shallow wound above an eye. Theodren¡¯s laughter boomed to the trees and bush beside the road where the mother bear, unable to watch any longer charged into the fray.


    The mother bear shouldered past a confused and wary Theodren who stumbled into a guard. Mother bear positioned herself between the man with the painful stick and her foolish cub. Growling at the man she stood her ground.


    Theodren sensed something in the mother bear. Her Vitae perplexed him. As he focused on the bears life force, it began to take on whisps of color he had not noticed before. Flecks of yellow and red danced over the pool of green he was accustomed to seeing. The bear¡¯s face was unreadable, but her soul swam with rage and a healthy amount of fear.


    Theodren¡¯s blood cooled rapidly. Faced as he was with the fear of a mother for her child he found that his taste for this battle was gone. The vineling unraveled from her form to slither back up his wrist and bind herself to his arm.


    As the hammer disappeared from sight the adrenaline the young bear was using to stay on his paws disappeared as well. Slumping to the ground with a groan, blood poured from his mouth to mix with the dust of the road to create a cruel puddle of mud.


    Theodren observed his handiwork with a growing sense of unease. He felt no regret at defending himself, but watching the mother bear keen over the form of her unconscious son unsettled him.


    ¡°Dammit! Do NOT eat me you understand?¡± He jabbed a finger at the mother bear who looked up at him incredulously. Yellow and purple appearing at the edges of her vitae. Confusion perhaps? He thought as he inched closer to the downed bear.


    The mother bear growled at him but made no move of her own as he placed a hand on the coarse fur of the bears head. He reached deep with his vitae. The stream of life force flowed from his hand into the bear like water from a spigot.


    Suddenly he was bombarded with information. He groaned as his head was filled with the sensory information of the wounded bear. Broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken paw and several other smaller but no less painful fractures, ruptures and contusions. He allowed himself a moment of reluctant pride amidst the cacophony of pain that flooded his senses.


    His mind railed against the pain. Unsure and untrained he had no solution but to push back the pain with the only resource he had. Vitae. He pushed his store of vitae at the connection between him and the bear hoping to distance himself from the creature''s pain. When it started to work he pushed further. Regaining his concentration he pushed the vitae into the bear. Shepherding it towards its many injuries. Desperate to be free of the pain and to complete his task he pushed with all his soul until he felt the vitae begin its work on the injured organs.


    His shoulders slumped as he began to allow himself the feeling of triumph over his task. He watched as the ribs began repairing themselves and the damaged cells of the bears lungs began to regrow, and then continued to grow. And then overgrow there bounds, spilling over previous confines of the lung.


    ¡°SHIT!¡± Theodren sprang back into action. He had fed too much vitae to the bear¡¯s wounds and now the cells had become cancerous. Consuming their neighbors at a rapid pace.


    Mentally kicking himself, Theodren reached for the vitae desperate to drag it back into himself. It came quickly, fleeing the corrupted cells as they withered almost instantly, but where one died more grew. He cursed as he fought to find every rapidly growing cell in the enormous body. He pulled and pulled for what felt like hours. Frantically clawing back his mistake.


    By the end of it the sun was high in the sky as the late spring air chilled his body now drenched in sweat. Crouched down on the balls of his feet. He rocked back onto his heels before sitting down in the dirt.


    He had spent what seemed to be hours teetering back and forth between too much and not enough Vitae for the bear. By now he was as sure as he could be that he had stomped out every greedy cell that he could find without outright destroying the organs the bear relied upon.


    The result was a young bear that was only mostly dead. Its organs were fragile and raw but they would recover.


    Theodren jumped as the young bear groaned. He scrambled to his feet panting and looking around for the mother bear who was opposite his position nudging her son with her snout. The young bear groaned louder as it struggled to get up.


    Theodren let out a sigh as the bear swayed on its feet. ¡°Serves you right, you angry bastard.¡± The young bear''s vitae was a similar color of confusion and fear his mother was displaying in the hours prior. He looked to her now to see flares of blue and emerald amidst her vitae.


    ¡°Hope that means happy.¡± Theodren mumbled. Hearing him both bears turned their attention on the priest.


    ¡°Whoa. Hey now. Don¡¯t make me do that again.¡± He took a step back remembering that these were in fact wild animals. The mother bear approached slowly, head slightly tilted.


    Theodren looked for any signs of the red he associated with anger in her vitae but found none. Approaching his chest she sniffed at the scar, faded though it was, she had left him with before. Letting out a huff she turned.


    He watched as the mother bear once again herded her large cub back into the brush. Leaving Theodren exhausted and confused in the middle of the road.


    After a moment of reflection over the odd encounter. He shook himself and turned back toward town. Elleina would never believe this.

 Chapter 11. Back alley Politics

    Chapter 11.


    Back Alley Politics


    Theodren walked into town with a paired sense of exhaustion and trepidation. Word of Ellaina¡¯s miraculous recovery would get around. He ran a hand up the back of his head to massage the headache that promised to bloom beneath his palm.


    The majority of his healings in the village had been bandages, salves and stitches accompanied by whatever his divine thread could accomplish. Explaining to the townsfolk why he had the power to wrench Reina from the jaws of death but not enough to cure the mayor¡¯s gout seemed like a terrible way to spend his afternoon.


    Unfortunately for Theodren, the subject of those very thoughts came striding around the very corner he was approaching.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    ¡°Ah Bishop Stormwall!¡±


    A grimace appeared on his face as the self appointed Mayor Sebastian Silverworm and his trailing lackey Lester Hess strode with the grace of a peacock down the town road toward him.


    Crooked smiles and oily mustaches, Theodren had known these types from his time with his father at court and was less than eager to have his own relationship with them. Especially young Lester Hess, The hunched vagrant who was infamous for his rumored misdeeds among the younger women of the village.


    ¡°Good Morning gentleman.¡± He managed, struggling to fabricate an urgent emergency that required his attention. Alas none came and a pudgy arm found its way across his shoulders.


    ¡°I must congratulate you on Mrs. Fiero¡¯s newborn. If the rumors are to be believed, one might say you enacted a miracle!¡± Theodren¡¯s brow furrowed deeper as he extricated himself from the far too friendly contact of the mayor.


    ¡°You are too kind Mr. Sylverworm, I merely conducted the duties of the church as I do for all of this towns people.¡± The too wide grin of Lester Hess appeared in Theodren¡¯s peripheral.


    ¡°Nonsense Mr. Stormwall, I¡¯ve heard tell that your performance was a marked improvement on your previous ministrations. Do tell us, what changed?¡±


    Theodren¡¯s head snapped to the skulking form determined to remain on the periphery. ¡°The Mayor and I are speaking, do not insert yourself where you are not welcomed Lester.¡± The scrawny young man shrank from the sudden tongue lashing. Through a grimace of gritted teeth he hissed.


    ¡°Apologies Priest. We were merely surprised given your previous¡­ performance.¡± Theodren glared at the mayor¡¯s toadie. Flecks of sickly greens and putrid yellows mixed with angry reds in the underlings vitae.


    A reminder of Lester¡¯s own previous sins prepared itself on his tongue but was interrupted by the mayor. ¡°Now now gentleman, I¡¯m sure a day as fine as this calls for friendlier tones does it not?¡±


    He turned to his lackey. ¡°Lester, wait for me at the market.¡± Lester appeared to form the beginnings of a protest but Sebastian had already turned away from his lackey signaling that no disagreement would be brooked. Lester turned his glare to Theodren before stomping off down the street.


    ¡°Nasty business that childbirth. I understand young Mrs. Fiero was in dire straits before your timely intervention. How did you manage it?¡± Theodren¡¯s attention returned to the pompous older man fiddling with his oiled mustache in an attempt to feign disinterest.


    Theodren considered his question. ¡°Polly did most of the work, I simply finished the job she started.¡± Sebastian raised a grey eyebrow to the whisps of what remained of his hairline.


    ¡°Indeed? From what rumor I¡¯ve heard you seemed quite perturbed and left in a hurry after Eleina¡¯s miraculous recovery. Theodren arched an eyebrow of his own.


    ¡°I suppose small rumors have long legs in villages as small as this one.¡± He was no fool. He knew men like the mayor thrived on gossip. Even in towns as small as this one, secret knowledge was how the mayor maintained his position.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°My dear fellow, I simply mean to congratulate you! Perhaps even buy you a drink?¡± The local tavern was perhaps the most frequented building in the entire town. It was a place where stories of yore flowed as well as the ale it provided. It was cheap, and it was cramped but it was more than adequate for the small populace of the town. Moreover it was deliberately avoided by the mayor who preferred to drink his own spirits away from the rabble.


    Theodren eyed the older man for a silent moment. ¡°I don¡¯t do politics, mayor.¡± Silverworm deflated only slightly. ¡°Whatever do you mean? Sharing a glass at the local pub is no sin is it?¡±


    Theodren sighed. ¡°Even if The Farmer¡¯s Bucket had a glass to share, I will not be seen to endorse either you or Polly in this¡­ feud.¡±


    Some years ago, Sebastian Sylverworm arrived in the small town from parts unknown, claiming to be the new mayor. Whatever problems he had fled were similarly unknown, except that they had earned him a modest bag of gold and a finely made but slightly torn tunic.


    For the most part, the townsfolk couldn¡¯t be bothered with him. It was no concern of theirs who resided in the solitary stone house only slightly bigger than the others. He was useful in his way.When the tax collectors came to the village, he argued for a fair rate for the townsfolk, accepting only a small fee from everyone.


    Only recently however had he attempted to gain more authority within the town, he had even appointed Eleina¡¯s husband Evan as a town guard in hopes of acquiring some weight for his words. And while Evan was enthusiastic, he was certainly no lackey.


    That role went instead, to the loathsome Lester Hess. A fishmonger as well as a rumor monger, he was unsavory of sight and smell. This was matched only by the unsavory personality he also possessed.


    He both forged and wielded rumors throughout the town in order to gain his way. When one day his coercion had gone too far, he was hauled before the mayor to issue judgement at the demand of Polly, brimming with motherly rage.


    A slap on the wrist and a new assignment was all that Lester had received. In return, the mayor obtained a new lackey.


    ¡°If you wish to keep your position from being taken by our herbalist, I suggest that you do away with your Mr. Hess. Why you choose to associate with the likes of him are beyond me.¡±


    The mayor eyed the priest for a moment. The facade of friendliness dropping from his face. ¡°The boy knows things.¡± He sniffed.


    The back of Theodren¡¯s ears pricked as he sensed more than saw a presence lurking just out of sight. Casting about with a tendril of his vitae he found a puddle of vitae dyed in sickley green, yellow and a deep reddish brown. He could think of only one person to whom such a soul might belong.


    ¡°Then the boy should know better than to lurk in the shadows.¡± Theodren spun on his heel and strode to the unfortunate spy¡¯s hiding spot around the corner. Grabbing the greasy man by the collar he hauled him into the light.


    Lester became a tangle of spindly arms and legs as he was tossed unceremoniously into the dirt. ¡°I¡¯m not! I wasn¡¯t!¡­ I didn¡¯t!¡­¡± the mayor clicked his tongue and sighed.


    Theodren glowered down at the pockmarked face that stared back at him burning red with embarrassment and indignation. ¡°My patience runs thin, mayor.¡± Sebastian¡¯s eyes narrowed at the mocking tone.


    ¡°I assure you the lad meant no harm. His curiosity must have gotten the better of him.¡± The mayor turned a stoney glare on his lackey. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again. Will it?¡±


    Lester began nodding quickly. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he sensed an escape from his troubles. ¡°No sir! I swear on my name!¡±


    Theodren¡¯s blood boiled at the display of cronyism playing out at his feet. He reached down and grabbed Lester by the collar of his blouse and hauled him to his feet and then into the air so that they were face to face.


    ¡°I will not be spied upon by the likes of you Lester Hess.¡± Spindly legs flailed and kicked inches from the ground, searching for purchase and finding none. All Lester could do was stare wide eyed into the enraged face of Theodren.


    ¡°Y-you¡¯re a p-priest! Y-you¡¯re not allowed to touch me!¡± Rage built behind Theodren¡¯s eyes as Lester attempted to use his own religious oaths of non-interference against him. Oaths that he had since violated with the world shattering arrival of Yggdrazil in his life.


    ¡°My oaths are MINE to keep.¡± Theodren squeezed tighter. ¡°Or break.¡± Theodren¡¯s rage at the slimey man in his grasp and at his own betrayal built into an inferno. Suddenly Lester froze staring into Theodren¡¯s eyes. ¡°Green?¡± He choked.


    Theodren¡¯s rage left him almost instantly as he realized his vitae must be spilling over if Lester could see it in his eyes. He dropped the man unceremoniously in the dirt and stepped away.


    The mayor who had been observing the altercation in shocked silence returned to his senses and grabbed Lester by the shoulder and dragged him to his feet.


    ¡°We will be taking our leave now.¡± The older man squeaked. Together they scurried down the quiet street. Casting furtive glances over their shoulders as they retreated to the mayor¡¯s home.


    Fear and irritation coursed through Theodren causing his shoulders to tense higher and higher till they nearly reached his ears.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    The worst person who could have discovered his change had now done so. after only a day. Who would he tell? What would they do about it? Another thought occurred to him.


    Would anyone believe or even understand it? Before the events of yesterday¡¯s birth, he would be hard pressed to believe in a power besides divine thread and even that was shrouded in mystery by the Church of Holy Order.


    Theodren¡¯s shoulders began to recede from their previous heights as he rationalized his way through his troubles. The townspeople were unlikely to listen to the two men much less believe them.


    Theodren released a large sigh. ¡°A problem for later I suppose.¡±

 Chapter 12. Approaching Storm.

    Chapter 12.


    Approaching storm


    Two weeks later, approaching the village.


    ¡°How much further?¡± Theina asked, pulling her damp cloak tighter to herself. The traveling party of inquisitors had been pursued by relentless spring showers driving a chill rain through cloak and skin until even the cheery disposition of the junior inquisitor was cast into the mud they now trod through.


    Cardinal Lusis pulled back till he rode alongside the bedraggled woman. a smile teased at his thin mouth. ¡°The guards tell me it is just over the next hill. The village and your initiation are but a day away.¡±


    The way the cardinal leered at her was almost as unsettling as how at home the man seemed to be in such gloomy weather. ¡°Good.¡± She spat. ¡°I want to be off this road and through this task you are so intent on keeping secret.¡±


    ¡°Worry not acolyte, the mayor is known to me.¡± An eerie grin stretched across his thin face. ¡°I¡¯m certain that he will tell us all that we need to know.¡±


    Theina shuddered and kicked her horse forward. When entering the conclave her mother had told her to take advantage of every relationship she could. ¡°A friendly face is merely a step on the ladder you haven¡¯t used yet.¡± Her mother would say. However¡­


    She looked back at the cardinal who was busy smirking to himself as some unseen victory played out behind his eyes. His was not a smiling face that she could tolerate for much longer. She comforted herself with the knowledge that soon she would be through her initiation and off to help people far away from the slimy man behind her.


    A smile began to form as she mused about the gratitude she would soon receive from the villagers after she was done with her task. Perhaps they would even throw her a party? Yes that would be an appropriate way to praise her she thought as her tired and dirty horse trudge along step by beleaguered step beneath her.


    ¡°One more day.¡± She whispered. one more day and she would receive the praise she deserved and be rid of her odious travel companion. ¡°They had better be ready.¡± She said to herself gripping the reins in anticipation. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure they never forget me.¡±


    ***


    Theodren rested a sweaty hand against the wall of Polly¡¯s shop. The last two weeks had been a blur of days spent practicing his healing on the townsfolk who lined up eagerly to have their aches and pains relieved by the mysteriously improved priest.


    His nights he spent sparring with shadows in the courtyard of his church with the myriad forms of the vineling resting on his arm. The hammer was certainly his favorite but he made sure to keep up his training with a variety of knives, swords and bucklers as Tallhand, the  old Master of Arms, would have wanted. He had let his training fall by the wayside as there was no need and no practice weapons with which to train. His recent run-ins with the bears went to show that crisis could not be predicted, only prepared for.


    As he waved the last elderly farmer out the door of Polly¡¯s shop, a satisfied smile played over his face when the man who¡¯s cartilage he had just repaired, skipped down the path toward the town bar. Ready to share his good health with his friends.


    Theodren moved to pack up his things when a pitiable voice called out from the door. ¡°W-wait! You¡¯re healing everybody right?¡± Theodren groaned internally. Turning towards the voice he found a poorly disguised Lester, hunched and cloaked standing in the doorway.


    ¡°I want what you¡¯re doing for everybody else.¡± Whined Lester shuffling his feet into the small examination room. Theodren could feel the tension building in his shoulders as he considered turning away the unsavory young man. He considered dozens of excuses as to why he simply couldn¡¯t be bothered.


    However, a sigh flared his nostrils as he waved at the small stool he had appropriated for his patients.  ¡°have a seat.¡± he grumbled. This power of his was not just for those he approved of, he reasoned. They were for the good of all of the people he served, and that unfortunately included Lester.


    Much to Theodren¡¯s chagrin, a triumphant smile slithered across Lester¡¯s face as he slid onto the stool. ¡°And what seems to be the problem Mr. Hess?¡± Theodren asked, cleansing his hands in Polly¡¯s basin once again.


    ¡°You know what the problem is, priest.¡±  spat Lester. Theodren turned, arching an eyebrow to meet the pulsing vein in his forehead. ¡°Would you like me to attend to your misshapen spine, or your misshapen soul? both are within my purview and both could use immediate aid.¡±


    Lester only glared at the priest who stared back unflinching. Finally, Lester¡¯s gaze dropped. ¡°My back¡­ it¡¯s always been this way. everyone¡¯s always treated me different because of it.¡± While Theodren may not have had much love for the young man, but compassion for damaged people was something he had in abundance.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Theodren¡¯s stoney expression softened, if only slightly. ¡°Let¡¯s see it then.¡± At Theodren¡¯s instruction, Lester removed the cloak and the shirt beneath it, revealing a spine that was bent and unnatural.


    Staring down at the question mark shaped spine he sighed as he contemplated the amount of vitae he¡¯d have to spend from his dwindling supply. ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can.¡± He warned Lester, who remained silent in his anticipation.


    Theodren placed a broad hand on the bend of the spine and closed his eyes. He pushed his vitae into Lester¡¯s back, quietly probing and prodding at the deformed spine. Seeking a weak point that he could take advantage of.


    Lester shifted on the stool.¡°Are you even doing any¡­¡±  Theodren clamped down with his grip on Lester¡¯s back ¡°Shh!¡± He had limited vitae to spare, and he needed every ounce of it and his concentration to straighten the back beneath his hand. As he pushed at the first vertebrae, he willed his vitae to prop it up until he felt confident in its integrity.


    As he reached for the second vertebrae his mind was locked into the task. Shaping and feeding vitae to the spine that reshaped itself beneath his hand. As he reached halfway through his ministration he felt a tug on his vitae. No longer a stream, but a mist of vitae, it was vulnerable, more difficult to direct. His vitae was being pulled away from the spine he was focused on and toward a pit in Lester¡¯s own soul. Theodren¡¯s brow creased together as he sought to control the errant vitae. But he could only watch as it floated towards the void in Lester¡¯s soul.


    He grimaced as he pushed the last of his vitae desperately at the bent vertebrae, but they remained, crooked and unchanged. Theodren wondered at the pit in Lester¡¯s Vitae. Over the last two weeks he had healed almost everyone in the village, but none had a hole in their soul like this. What could possibly have disfigured a soul to this extent? Why had he not noticed it before? Was it always this large?


    These questions and many more flooded his mind, but they would have to wait. Theodren released a defeated sigh as he pulled his hand away. Lester shot to his feet. ¡°Did it work? I don¡¯t feel any different!¡± His hands reached up to explore the crooked landscape of his back as his expression fell from glee, to disappointment to bitter rage.


    ¡°You said you could fix me!¡± Lester shouted. his fists balled at his side before one changed to an accusatory finger pointed at the priest. ¡°you failed on PURPOSE!¡± The vein in Theodren¡¯s forehead beat a new and dangerous tempo. ¡°You mistake me Lester.¡± Theodren roared back.


    He grabbed Lester¡¯s clothes from the bench and shoved them into the young man¡¯s fragile chest. ¡°I have neither the power nor the patience to fix that crooked back of yours, and I will not be slandered for my attempts!¡± He shoved Lester out the door into the street where the seemingly omniscient busy-bodies of the town gathered inconspicuously as they could to ¡®overhear¡¯  the heated conversation.


    Snickering could be heard from some of the townsfolk as they looked on at the exposed and humiliated Lester who grew redder and angrier by the second. Theodren winced as he realized the situation he had quite literally thrust Lester into. ¡°Come back in a week when I am rested, I will try again.¡± Said Theodren.


    Lester snapped his attention from the gossiping villagers back to the priest.


    ¡°As if Anyone would come back to a FRAUD like you!¡± He snarled and stormed off, struggling into his shirt and cloak as he ran.


    A sigh escaped through flared nostrils as Theodren retreated back into the herbalist¡¯s shop where Polly herself stood with a tapping foot and crossed arms. Theodren winced beneath the razor sharp gaze of the herbalist. ¡°That was¡­ unfortunate¡­¡± He managed.


    ¡°You had that, that snake in my shop?¡± Less a question than an accusation, he felt the tension spread from his shoulders to gather into a pulsing ball of pain behind his eyes. ¡°Snake or not he is a resident of this village and entitled to my care same as anyone else.¡±


    ¡°Not in MY shop he¡¯s not.¡± She snapped. ¡°Don¡¯t you know what he did?¡± Theodren grunted in affirmation.


    ¡°I know he tried to shame Eleina into having his way with her, and I know that went as well as  could be expected for him.¡± Indeed, Eleina and Evan had gotten pregnant before their wedding day and an ever observant Lester thought he could shame Eleina into submitting to him.


    What he got instead was an impressive right cross to his delicate jaw by an enraged Eleina who then dragged her fiance to Theodren¡¯s church for a pleasant but speedy ceremony.


    Polly nodded curtly. ¡°He deserves that and more! I¡¯ll forgive you this once because you saved Elly, but if that boy comes around my shop again everyone involved will be breaking out in rashes for a month!¡± She barked, patting her pouch of herbs that was tied to her belt.


    Theodren shuddered. He was well aware of Polly¡¯s ¡°remedies for bad behavior¡±. There were few who were foolish enough to disrespect an herbalist, but those who did often found themselves in a sudden and mysterious need of an itching remedy.


    ¡°Speaking of Elly.¡± Theodren looked back up from his feet, an apologetic grimace spread over his face. ¡°You¡¯ve been avoiding her.¡± Theodren tried to come up with an excuse but none came. He could only nod as he sank onto the stool that groaned beneath his considerable bulk. ¡°A lot happened, Polly.¡± Was all he offered.


    Polly sighed as she grabbed her own stool and sat opposite Theodren. ¡°That was a bad night.¡± She agreed, not fully grasping the gravity of the events that had transpired for Theodren over the last two weeks. ¡°But you saved her life. What¡¯s more, you saved her baby. My granddaughter.¡±


    Theodren considered Polly¡¯s words silently. ¡°So whatever you¡¯re moping about. You better get over it, young man.¡± Theodren reeled at the simplicity and absurdity of her statement. ¡°Get over it.¡± he repeated.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, life moves on. and you can bury yourself in your work trying to avoid whatever you¡¯re dealing with. But you¡¯ll have to get over it sooner or later.¡± Theodren remained in a flustered state of shock as he contemplated her words. From his crisis of faith and ultimate betrayal to the bears and of course his complications with Lester and the Mayor. He struggled to keep his head above water. He felt the tension build further in his shoulders as he remembered the fear, loss and uncertainty of the last two weeks as her words echoed in his head. A reassuring squeeze of his arm by the vineling pulled him from his spiral back to the present.


    Perhaps it was time Theodren paid Eleina and Evan a visit. It would serve him well to see what good had come from the breaking of his faith. Perhaps then he could ¡®get over it.¡¯  Theodren brought his focus back to Polly. I¡¯ll check in on them on my way back up the hill.¡± He promised.


    ¡°Good lad.¡± Said Polly as she patted Theodren on the arm. ¡°And when you do bring this pot of stew I made for them. My poor Elly is in no fit state to cook, and Evan is no cook in any state.¡± Theodren chuckled. ¡°No he is not. I¡¯ll make sure they get it.¡± He promised.


    Polly made room for him as he stood to leave. Grabbing the pot of stew by the handle, he made his way towards Eleina¡¯s home.

 Chapter 13. Shame

    Chapter 13.


    Shame


    Lester¡¯s eyes burned with the promise of tears as he ran. Ran from the priest. Ran from the shame. Soon his broken stride led him beyond the town, out to the hill where his sanctuary stood.


    Lester threw himself down upon the dry pine needles that covered the floor of his shallow cave. Only then did the rage and shame finally spill over from his eyes. Snot and tears commingled on his face as he beat and screamed into the floor. He howled curses to the sky. He cursed the priest, he cursed the townsfolk, and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to hope.


    All of this he screamed to the silent sky. Unheard and uncared for, there was no one to witness his wails. No one, except for the party of inquisitors drawn to the keening of a broken man.


    ***


    ¡°What in Weaver¡¯s name is that sound?¡± Complained Theina, as the party of inquisitors neared the hill. Two of the Cardinal¡¯s guards slid from their mounts and stalked up the hill toward the mouth of a small cave.


    Hardwright pulled his horse to a stop, silently observing his men. A squawk of surprise and the sound of muffled struggle preceded a dazed Lester being dragged from his refuge.


    A cruel smile spread across the Cardinal¡¯s face. ¡°That, my dear acolyte, is our dinner guest.¡±


    Lester returned to consciousness with pain radiating across his face. As focus returned to his eyes, he was greeted by a modest campfire, five unfriendly figures and one with a smile far too wide for his face.


    ¡°Cut my hand on the damn kids snaggletooth.¡± Grumbled the guard as he rubbed at the cut on the back of his hand. Sparing Lester an irritated look while stomping over to join his compatriots. Lester eyed them warily as he returned to his senses, his face still stinging where the guard had struck him.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    The guards themselves wore armor that while functional, spoke of a quality long since eroded by time and use. These men were not cruel. They simply lacked the necessary care to be cruel. Lester gave a glare to the guard still shaking his hand from the sting of Lester¡¯s errant tooth who merely grinned in return. ¡°That¡¯s a mighty big glare from a gimp like you.¡± Chortled the smaller guard. His taller companion snorted. ¡°Careful Boris! The boy might cry at us again and then we¡¯ll be in a right pickle!¡±


    Lester¡¯s ears burned as he prepared a retort, but the Cardinal was faster. ¡°Silence both of you.¡± Hissed Lusis. Divine Thread slithered out from beneath his black cloak, lashing the two men¡¯s mouths shut. The men froze, eyes glazing over into a palid golden color. ¡°That¡¯s no way to treat a guest. Be gone and see to the horses.¡± Both guards rose to their feet like puppets pulled from the ground. They dreamily wandered away to where the horses were tied and began brushing the bedraggled creatures.


    ¡°Y-you¡¯re a priest!?¡± blurted Lester. Hardwright grinned, his attention snapping back to Lester. ¡°A Cardinal in fact. My lovely protege and I were on our way to your lovely little town when we heard your distress.¡± Lester¡¯s eyes darted to Theina who sat cross legged on the stump of a tree that seemed to have been cut down only moments ago. Her haughty demeanor was only equaled by the unexplained mirth in her eyes.


    ¡°Indeed, I thought we had perhaps found another possum in dire straits.¡± A dainty hand rose to cover her lips as a grin teased at the edge of her mouth, and a scowl threatened at the edge of the Cardinal¡¯s. Lester eyed their cloaks as he failed to understand the one sided joke that seemed to play out before him. A proud looking seal  comprising a set of golden shears closing on a thread sat upon Both of their  chests.


    ¡°My apologies Cardinal, I was unaware that I was in such prestigious company. Pray tell, from what sect do you hail?¡± Lester delivered his most polished greeting he could manage through the rapidly swelling lip where the guard had struck him.


    ¡°Ugh, here.¡± Theina¡¯s Thread flew from her fingertip fast as a whip lighting on Lester¡¯s swollen lip. A gentle touch, it ordered his flesh to heal itself and so it did. Lester held a hand to the spot where she had touched him more gently than any woman had before. ¡°We¡¯re with the Golden Shears, we¡¯re here for¡­ what was it?¡± She turned to the Cardinal who had managed to school his face back into the practiced grin it was in before Theina¡¯s teasing.


    ¡°We are here¡­¡± He answered, glaring over his smile. ¡°To bring Order.¡± he turned back to Lester. ¡°So tell me boy. Have you noticed anything out of Order?¡±


    A grin cracked wide across Lester¡¯s face. The faces of Theodren, Eleina, and the many laughing townsfolk streamed across his mind''s eye.


    ¡°As a matter of fact, Cardinal. I believe I have a great deal to tell you.¡±

 Chapter 14. Promises.

    Chapter. 14


    Promises.


    Theodren stared at the outline of his shadow on Eleina¡¯s door. A litany of excuses ran through his mind to explain his absence. It was true that he had been busy. He had spent every ounce of his vitae on the townspeople over the last two weeks. From scrapes and bruises on the knees and elbows of the children to the broken bones and bad backs of their parents.


    He squared his shoulders and knocked on the plain wooden door. ¡°Still¡± he said to himself. ¡°I should have found the time.¡±


    ¡°Found the time for what?¡± Yawned an over tired Evan as he answered the door. He blinked heavily as the Priest came into focus. ¡°Theodren! The Priest is here Elly!¡± His eyes drifted down to the pot in Theodren¡¯s hand. ¡°And he brought food!¡±


    A slipper whizzed past Evan¡¯s head to smack into the door frame. ¡°If either of you wake this baby, I have got another slipper and this time I won¡¯t miss.¡± Threatened a tired sounding Eleina just out of eyesight.


    Evan¡¯s mouth snapped shut, but a delirious smile remained. ¡°Come in! Come in!¡± Whispered an excited Evan. Theodren chuckled as he stooped through the doorway. Sitting in her chair by the fire was a bedraggled Eleina. Wrapped in what appeared to be a robe that used to be white, and holding her baby girl that slept with a mouth held in a tiny ¡°o¡± shape.


    A smile leapt to Theodren¡¯s face as he knelt next to Eleina¡¯s chair to better admire the red haired babe. ¡°Those might be the biggest cheeks I¡¯ve ever seen on a child.¡± Chuckled Theodren. Eleina preened at the compliment. ¡°I think they¡¯re even bigger than the Mayor¡¯s.¡± She joked.


    ¡°She¡¯s a well fed babe alright.¡± Crooned Evan as he stared dreamily at his daughter. Eleina groaned. ¡°She may be, but I could smell that pot of stew all the way from mother¡¯s shop.¡± She waved at Theodren with her free arm. ¡°Hand it over priest. I haven¡¯t had real food in days.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? I made you that stew yesterday.¡± Asked Evan, cocking his head to the side. Eleina froze. ¡°How could I forget? Of course you did, it was wonderful.¡± As she spoke Theodren watched her nudge a small pot with a concerningly colored sludge further under the chair with her foot.


    Theodren jumped in to save her. ¡°But of course, nothing compares to your mother¡¯s cooking!¡± Evan, seeming satisfied with the answer, turned to grab what clean dishes he could find while Eleina gave Theodren a meaningful look of thanks.


    As Evan returned with a bowl for Eleina, she gently passed a sleeping Theviana to a surprised Theodren who held the babe with all the gentleness of a man holding porcelain. A twinkle danced in her eye as she watched Theodren marvel over the child. With a pleased chuckle, she dug into the hearty stew.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Theodren was transfixed. He sank onto the stool across from Eleina as He stared down into the sleeping face of the child he had pulled into this world. From her wisps of red hair to her delicate nose and rosy cheeks, she was perfect. Faced with the product of his choices, every regret, every anxiety riddled thought left his mind. He had saved this life, and she was perfect.


    His thoughts were returned to reality as he felt an itching on his chest. The caduceus Yggdrazil had left him with squirmed on his skin. Opening his mind¡¯s eye to it, he could see it vibrating, almost resonating. ¡°But with what?¡± He wondered. A wisp of Vitae floated past his view, causing his head to snap back to Theviana. There, sitting in her tiny fluttering chest was a spring of Vitae, wrapped in a cradle of Divine Thread.


    Theodren¡¯s mind raced. The gently sleeping child in his arms was possessed of both a spring of Vitae like his own, as well as a spool of Divine Thread. Barely born and already she possessed two world shaping powers. The very powers of creation itself. His brow furrowed deeper as considered what this might mean. Lost in thought he barely heard Evan when he and Eleina asked him to be the godfather of their new child.


    Theodren blinked. Rising from the depths of his spiraling thoughts, a baffled grin found his face. ¡°Me? Are you sure?¡± Eleina smacked him on the shoulder teasingly. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend like there¡¯s someone better.¡±


    ¡°What about your mom? I don¡¯t want to end up on the receiving end of her remedies-for-poor-behavior, pouch.¡± Grinned Theodren. Eleina sighed, pulling the still sleeping Theviana back into her arms. ¡°She¡¯ll just have to settle for being a grandmother.¡±


    Theodren turned to Evan, who was absentmindedly rubbing at a spot on his guardsman¡¯s armor on the wall. ¡°And you¡¯re on board Evan?¡± The sleepy eyed father turned at hearing his name. ¡°Hmm? Oh yes, fine. Not really that worried about it honestly. Not like we¡¯re going anywhere any time soon.¡±


    Eleina scoffed. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this Evan, It¡¯s important to plan ahead, and I want someone we can rely on to watch over our little girl.¡± Theodren¡¯s sheepish grin only grew wider. It was high praise indeed to be named a godparent, and though he hoped to never have to assume the mantle of responsibility. He would do so gladly for the tiny life cradled in Eleina¡¯s arms.  The mystery of the child¡¯s twin powers could wait. A feeling of contentment spread within him. There was nothing to fear and nothing to rush for. He could take his time teaching the child all about her Thread and Vitae when she was old enough. For now, she was right where she should be.


    Theodren nodded. Bracing his hands on his knees as he rose to his feet. ¡°I accept. I¡¯m honored that you chose me.¡± Eleina snorted, I¡¯m too tired for manners, Priest.¡± clutching Theviana to her chest she got to her feet. ¡°Now begone with you, Thevi needs to eat and you need to make it home before nightfall. No more bears for you Uncle Theo. You¡¯ve got something to live for.¡±


    Theodren¡¯s grin only widened as he was shepherded towards the door. ¡°I¡¯ll come back tomorrow, see if I can¡¯t snag more of Polly¡¯s cooking on the way. ¡°Please do.¡± Said Eleina with intensity.


    Theodren chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡± He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the late afternoon sun. ¡°There, that¡¯s the Priest.¡± A smile still on his lips, he turned to the voice as a fist landed in his gut. He doubled over in a wheeze as shouts of surprise came from Eleina and Evan standing in the doorway behind him. Theodren tried to drop into a low stance but was grabbed under the arms by two men he did not recognize. Still struggling for air, he looked around frantically trying to gain a sense of what was going on. As focus returned to his eyes, the cruel smile of Lusis Hardwright filled his eyes. ¡°Father Stormwall, I have some questions for you regarding your management of this village''s Order.¡±

 Chapter 15. Golden Mask

    Chapter 15. Golden mask


    Theodren¡¯s blood froze in his veins as he stared into the dark and beady eyes of the Chief Inquisitor. ¡°What is the meaning of this!?¡± Spat Eleina holding her hand over her baby¡¯s ears. Evan recovered from his shock and cleared his throat. ¡°As town guard I demand you state your names and your business here.¡±


    Lusis gave them an irritated look that spoke of an abiding disdain for all things common. ¡°I simply loathe the braying of cattle.¡± The remaining guards stalked over to Evan and Theina. Unable to turn his head to see, he heard the sounds of a scuffle behind him before Evan Joined him on his knees and Eleina was shoved to the side, jolting Theviana awake and raising a wail from her tiny mouth.


    ¡°Unhand me you lout!¡± growled Elaina as she was shoved away from Theodren and her husband. ¡°Leave them!¡± Shouted Theodren, Air finally returning to his lungs. ¡°They¡¯ve done nothing!¡± The beady eyes of the Cardinal returned to the Priest.


    ¡°Indeed? And what is it that they have not done?¡± Theodren¡¯s mouth would not move, could not move. How could he explain his actions in the face of the Golden Shears? His shame was complete, He sank into his despair and silence, unable to answer even for himself.


    ¡°Come now Father Stormwall, young master Hess has told me much of your recent exploits.¡± Hardwright Gestured to where Lester stood. Grinning triumphantly at the kneeling priest who had failed him so. ¡°He says you are much changed in recent weeks. He claims that you¡¯ve miraculously healed every person in this backwater town of yours.¡±


    Lester spat. ¡°Almost everyone.¡± Hardwright¡¯s grin only widened. ¡°A poor priest indeed. Neglecting a member of your flock who needed you most.¡± Shame and rage bit deep into Theodren as he looked into the gleeful eyes of the boy who had brought him to his knees.


    ¡°Do tell us, what brought about this miraculous transformation?¡± Purred Hardwright. Theodren looked up at the cruel face smirking down at him. ¡°My crimes are mine and mine only. I will go with you.¡± Resigned to his fate Theodren hung his head, unable and unwilling to resist; he waited for his punishment to begin.


    ¡°Tsk.Tsk.Tsk. Not good enough Father, not nearly good enough.¡± Theodren shot the Cardinal a confused look. Lusis grinned back at him. ¡°You will tell me what I want to know or my men¡­¡±


    CLANG!


    Everyone froze in confusion as the sound was followed by the guard who held Eleina, falling to the ground in a heap. ¡°Have at you, ye bastards!¡± shouted Pieter, brandishing the very shovel Theodren had given him months ago. Jaws hung open at the bizarre spectacle of Pieter the pig farmer brandishing a mangled shovel as he rushed the guards holding Theodren to his knees.


    A mighty yell turned into a yelp of surprise as his feet were snatched from the ground by a length of shimmering golden Thread. Like a fish on a hook he struggled as he was dangled in the air cursing. The owner of the Thread pulled the struggling man to where she leaned against the side of Evan And Eleina¡¯s home ¡°I like you.¡± She stated simply, poking the stunned farmer on the nose as he dangled upside down before her.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Uh¡­aye.¡± Theina giggled at his shock but did not lower him. ¡°Unhand my fool of a husband girl, before I ruin that pretty face of yours.¡± Growled Polly as she stomped toward the stunned group. Theina gave a bored look to Polly as she snatched her feet in the same manner as her husband, dangling them before her.


    ¡°All of you stop!¡± Roared Theodren. Eyes pleading, he looked to Hardwright. ¡°Let them go, I¡¯ll tell you everything.¡± A thoughtful grin pulled at Lusis¡¯ face. ¡°On second thought.¡± He turned to Theina. ¡°The time has come, Acolyte, for your initiation.¡±


    Theina visibly perked up. ¡°Truly? I¡¯m ready! What must I do? I will surely succeed!¡± Hardwright¡¯s grin spread ever wider as he pulled a golden mask from the depths of his robe. ¡°First, a gift. This mask is the mark of your station, it will help you to see those who have broken from the tapestry. Take it.¡± Theina reached for the mask with reverence. She had seen but never spoken to many inquisitors wearing similar masks of smooth gold. It was elegant in its austerity. Its surface was broken only by holes for eyes and nothing else.


    She had longed to see one up close, to hold it in her hands. Alas fraternizing was forbidden between acolyte and inquisitor. Now finally she would receive her own mask. She raised the mask to her face, all of her goals and aspirations felt that much closer to her reach now. As the mask slid into place Hardwright¡¯s hand flew out and slapped her, hard, while extending his thread through the mask and into her mind.


    Theina froze, her shoulders slumped as all personality left her, replaced instead with the dull gold eyes of Hardwright¡¯s Order. ¡°What did you do to her?¡± blurted Lester, Shocked at the sudden violence between the inquisitors. ¡°Put that rotten bitch in her place where she should have been years ago.¡± Spat Hardwright. Lester¡¯s hands balled into fists by his side, but he dare not speak out.


    ¡°Now then.¡± Smiled Hardwright, smoothing his greasy hair back into place. He turned back to face the confused Theodren, staring down at the large man who watched the proceedings with growing confusion. ¡°I¡¯m a very busy man, Father Stormwall, and I simply can not be bothered with your backwater town. Therefore, I¡¯ve decided that instead of wasting my time figuring out which of the townspeople conspired with you, the most efficient use of my valuable time is to simply kill you all, and let Odrain sort you out.¡±


    Theodren strained against the men holding him down, but without his vitae to aid him, his strength was merely mortal. ¡°You can''t! These people have a right to live!¡± Hardwright sighed as he backhanded the struggling Priest. ¡°You silly peasants and your ¡®rights¡¯¡±. He strode back to Theina who stood rock still, beholden to the Cardinal¡¯s control. He stared at her for a silent moment. Eyes roving lasciviously over her form in a way that made even Lester cringe.


    ¡°I always hated you.¡± He cuffed her again, smiling as she lurched from the impact but remained standing, lifeless. ¡°You¡¯re arrogant.¡± He punched her stomach causing her to grunt and bend slightly. ¡°You¡¯re spoiled.¡± He snarled, grabbing her breast and twisting cruelly. ¡°And you have the personality of a squirrel.¡± He pulled back a hand to strike her again but was stopped by the frail hand of Lester. ¡°You¡¯re hurting her!¡±


    Hardwright looked down at Lester confused. ¡°And?¡± He shoved the boy off and finished the strike he had interrupted. ¡°Oh I see, come to rescue the maiden fair, have we boy?¡± Hardwright laughed at the boy, causing Lester¡¯s cheeks to flush a furious red.


    ¡°Worry not boy. She¡¯ll be well taken care of.¡± A sly smile spread ear to ear on Hardwright¡¯s face. Lester struggled to form a protest. ¡°Y-you Can¡¯t do that!¡± Hardwright had already turned from the boy, uninterested as he was in his complaints. He grabbed Theina by the ear, pulling her down to the thin lips that whispered loud enough for all to hear. ¡°Kill them all.¡±

 Chapter 16. Wrath

    Chapter 16.


    Wrath.


    Hardwright¡¯s order took effect immediately. Theina¡¯s threads that held Polly and Pieter suspended, swung wildly. Slamming the older couple into ground tree and rock like a child''s plaything. Gurgling through mangled and broken jaws they were slammed to the earth again with finality. The guards holding Theodren and Evan guffawed at the spectacle as Eleina who had been watching in stunned silence, wailed at the sudden and grotesque death of her parents. Evan¡¯s eyes bulged as he struggled against the laughing guards.


    Theina¡¯s dull golden eyes swiveled to the sound of Elaina¡¯s keening. In a blur of gold she was on her, daggers gleaming in the sunset she sliced and stabbed at the red haired woman who could only turn and offer her back to the merciless killing machine, using her own flesh as a shield for her child who screamed at the fear and the noise in the air. Daggers tore at Eleina as she fell to the dirt still sheltering her wailing child as the life left her eyes.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    A single strike from Theina ended the infant¡¯s cries as Evan snarled and fought like a man possessed to free himself from his captors. To his credit he managed to slam his head into the nose of one of the guards and rush to his feet. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, you heartless bitch!¡± he screamed as he ran at her. Theina¡¯s blade found his throat faster than he could react. Slicing clean through, he fell to his knees like a puppet with its strings cut. His face hit the dirt feet from his wife and child. Their collective blood pooling in a cruel puddle of mud.


    Theodren thrashed, and screamed a cloud of curses. He Screamed for Odrain, He screamed for Yggdrazil. But no help came. Through his furious tears he saw the legs of Theina standing before him. He stared up into the pallid gold and lifeless eyes of the woman before him as she raised a blade slicked in the blood of his friends to kill him.


    ¡°Not him. Not yet¡± Hardwright grabbed Theodren by the hair, turning his head to face the lifeless forms of his friends. ¡°I have uses for him.¡± Theina backed away from the priest, her attention snapped to the surrounding houses. In a blur of gold she was gone, as she streaked from house to house, each one greeted her with screams, and then silence.

 Chapter 17. Retribution

    Chapter 17. Retribution


    Hardwright witnessed the carnage with satisfaction on his face. He stalked away from Theodren to better watch the spectacle of Theina¡¯s violence. She would make an excellent addition to his collection. The Cardinal had collected many promising young acolytes over the years. Ambitious youngsters like Theina would rise to prominence, and in his generosity he would offer them patronage. Taking them under his wing until the time was right, and then he would seize control.


    What few peers he had thought that he used his thread for mind control. He scoffed at the idea. Mind control was lazy, crude and unimaginative. His influence was far superior to paltry mind control. From a young age Lusis used his thread to worm its way into the minds of his victims. Seizing control of their frontal lobe he attacked their sense of self, imposing his will over theirs leaving just the tiniest fragment of their mind intact to witness his workings. He knew that while Theina was busy killing the townspeople with gusto. In her mind a part of her would remain a captive passenger, able to witness but not influence her actions. Hardwright reveled in his superiority. This carnage of her own making would break her. And when the guilt finally fractured her mind, he would erase every facet of her being. His tongue ran along his lips; she would truly be his to do with as he pleased.


    ***


    Theodren could not look away from the devastation playing out before him. It was his fault. All of the death that took place here today was on him, and him alone. There would be no mysterious God to offer him salvation. He was alone amidst the broken bodies of his friends. He felt a wriggling on his arm and he startled. Perhaps not totally alone.


    The vineling slithered up his arm to the collar of his robe, poking out at the hand that held Theodren down by the shoulder. Theodren glared up at the man, grinning stupidly at the carnage around him, Theodren peered deep into his Vitae, into his soul. A swirl of muddy colors affronted Theodren¡¯s inner eye. It was a soul corrupted by a lifetime of cruelty and indifference. That the man had a soul at all angered Theodren to his core.


    ¡°You don¡¯t deserve it.¡± Theodren growled. The guard looked down at him ¡°Wha?¡± The vineling found the wound on the man''s hand, a small cut from where he had struck Lester¡¯s tooth. The vineling coiled up like a snake, and launched itself into the wound, burrowing deep into the man''s flesh. He screamed, ¡°He got me! Somethin¡¯s got me! What is ¡®at!?¡±


    Theodren felt the vineling burrow deeper into the man''s arms, deeper into his chest where it coiled around the man¡¯s black heart. Greedily it siphoned Vitae from the man¡¯s vital organs. His right arm now unsecured, Theodren swung a wild haymaker at the panicked guard holding his other shoulder.


    Theodren rose to his feet, anxious to dispatch the two men before the other guards took notice. His rage boiled over, slamming fist after fist into the man''s face. The guard¡¯s hands flailed and slapped at him as he rained blow after furious blow into the broken face. With a wet crack, Theodren felt the front of the man¡¯s skull cave inward.


    Almost immediately, he felt the pulverized guard¡¯s vitae rush toward his fist, seeking an outlet, seeking life. Theodren absorbed it with alacrity. There was not much to be had, but it would have to be enough.


    Theodren rushed the two guards who had been holding Evan on his knees before his final stand. The men were preoccupied with the screaming guard, who scrabbled at his chest, trying to dislodge the vineling that roiled beneath his skin.


    In a berserker rage that would do his father proud, he grabbed the men by the backs of their collars slamming them hard into the ground. Dazed and wheezing from the impact, they could only lay there as Theodren stomped his leather boot through the first man¡¯s skull and then the second. Their vitae flowed into him as he turned to the whimpering and weakened guard on his knees. The vineling bulged under the man¡¯s skin from within his stomach. It had feasted heartily off of the man¡¯s vitae growing to twice its original size.


    A whine came from the hollow, sunken face of the guard. ¡°What is this? What did you do to me?¡± Theodren¡¯s cold glare roved over the vineling¡¯s handiwork. The man was but a shadow of himself from mere moments ago. The Priest held out his hand towards the man¡¯s chest and answered. ¡°Retribution.¡± Hearing it¡¯s new name, the Vineling burst from the man¡¯s chest, an eruption of gore quickly changing into the familiar handle of Theodren¡¯s hammer. When Theodren expected it to stop growing, it did not. It was still his hammer, but it now stood at equal height with him, its head now covered in gruesome spikes and wrapped in barbed and bloody vines. He took hold of the weapon. As he did, it relinquished its grip on the guard''s ruined corpse, which fell to the ground in a rattle of empty armor.


    One of the Cardinal¡¯s two remaining guards turned at the sound that was at odds with the chorus of screams rising from the town. His brows shot to his hairline as he quickly alerted his companion to the enraged and bloodied beast of a man stomping toward them, Retribution in hand. Hardwright witnessed none of this, enraptured as he was with his latest conquest.


    The first guard jabbed a spear at Theodren¡¯s midsection, hoping the threat would keep him at distance. But if the guard was under the impression that Theodren was interested in avoiding pain he was sorely mistaken. The spear buried itself in Theodren¡¯s ribs, lodging itself in tightly. Theodren roared at the man as he snapped the shaft with his left hand before bringing Retribution to bear in his right. The mighty hammer slammed into the first guard''s head as he clung to his now useless spear. A sickening crunch filled the air as the force of the blow removed his head from his shoulders. Theodren yanked the spear head from his already closing wound as he stomped over the first guard''s headless body, absorbing its Vitae as he passed.


    The second guard threw down his spear, opting for a short sword and buckler instead. He readied himself as Theodren approached, planning parries, dodges and counter strikes to a number of opening blows Theodren might attempt. What he was not prepared for was the speed with which Theodren closed the distance. Retribution now gripped in both hands, He swung with the full force of his rage at the insignificant man between him and the Cardinal. The second guard raised his buckler just in time to catch the savage blow, but it was no use. The hammer cleaved through shield, muscle and bone like wet cloth, crushing everything in its path. The second guard was tossed aside like a ragdoll, landing in a broken heep just feet from Hardwright who jumped at the disturbance from his victorious self praise. As he turned to see the cause, for the first time that day. His smile wavered.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Theodren made a gruesome sight as he stalked toward the Cardinal. Six and a half feet of rage and muscle covered in the blood and gristle of Hardwright¡¯s guards, Wielding a truly massive hammer, covered in cruel barbed vines that appeared alive in the giant¡¯s hands.


    ¡°HARDWRIGHT!¡± Roared Theodren as each step brought him closer to the spindly Cardinal. ¡°FOR YOUR CRIMES AGAINST THE INNOCENTS OF THIS VILLAGE, I DECLARE YOU GUILTY AND YOUR SOUL FORFEIT!¡± Theodren pointed his hammer at the man. ¡°HERE TODAY SHALL YOU FACE JUDGEMENT FOR YOUR CRIMES. STAND READY FOR YOUR RETRIBUTION.¡±


    ¡°Come now.¡± Squeaked Hardwright. ¡°Surely there¡¯s some arrangement we can come to? Perhaps a larger town more suited to your obvious talent!¡± As he spoke Theodren saw Thread snake out from the edge of Hardwright¡¯s sleeve faster than he could react, it lashed out, striking deep into Theodren¡¯s mind.


    While Hardwright may have excelled at manipulating the minds of others, Theodren¡¯s mind was stone, driven by a singular purpose. Retribution. Hardwright¡¯s triumphant grin fell from his face as Theodren trudged ever closer, weathering the Cardinal¡¯s assault on his mind as though he were walking through a stiff breeze.


    Finally, standing before a panting and sweaty Hardwright, Theodren stared down at the greasy man, eyes a brilliant green with Vitae and Rage. ¡°I¡¯m unarmed!¡± Whined Hardwright, falling down as he attempted to back away from the vision of wrath advancing on him.


    ¡°So were they.¡± Growled Theodren. Rage filled his arms as he raised Retribution above the Cardinal¡¯s head, the shadow of it making Hardwright flinch as he cowered from his impending judgement. Theodren brought the hammer down with all the rage, pain and strength he possessed, roaring out his rage to the darkening sky.


    In a flash of gold, Theina was there. Deflecting the hammer blow with her thread held between the blades in her hands. Still for all her speed and skill, she could not completely prevent Retribution from finding the Cardinal. Theodren¡¯s hammer slammed down into Hardwright¡¯s leg, pulverizing the bone and tissue beneath the man¡¯s knee. Hardwright screamed in pain as rolled on the  bloodied ground, clutching the mangled remains of his leg. ¡°You worthless bitch! Kill him! Kill him now!¡±


    A flurry of blades lashed out at Theodren. Conventional wisdom would have Theodren blocking or avoiding the maelstrom of golden daggers slicing wicked lines across his body. But for Theodren, each cut was a penance. He bore Theina¡¯s assault through gritted teeth as he responded with swings of his own weapon. Retribution whistled through the air as it sought the woman who murdered his friends, his flock and worst of all his Godchild.


    He channeled his Vitae into his arms, swinging faster and faster as she danced around him, until finally he connected. The very edge of Retribution clipped her side as she attempted to pirouette around the blow. The force of the blow flung her sidelong into one of the squat thatched houses that crumbled from her impact.


    Theodren chased after her, leaving the crippled Cardinal to whimper alone, or so he thought. Lester reappeared from behind What was once the Fiero household. With crooked gait he ran to the Cardinal. ¡°Cardinal Hardwright, you have to stop her! She¡¯s killing everyone!¡± Hardwright looked up at the teenager in confusion. ¡°Isn¡¯t this what you wanted boy?¡± He spat.


    Lester reeled. What had he wanted? What had he expected? He wanted Theodren and the townspeople to feel his humiliation, he wanted them to understand their error in ostracizing him. He wanted them to hurt, as he had hurt. When he Told the inquisitors of the change in the Priest and in the town, he assumed there would be castigation and humiliation for Theodren and for all those who dared to laugh at him. But this¡­ There was no more mocking laughter, there were no more screams, for there was no one left alive to. ¡°I didn¡¯t want this.¡± Lester mumbled.


    A plot formed in Hardwright¡¯s mind as he looked at the despairing child. ¡°Bring me to my horse, I can end that bitches assault. Lester nodded quickly grabbing Hardwright under his arm, he shouldered the cardinal as best he could, dragging the cursing and groaning Cardinal to his horse. Hardwright used what thread he had left to tourniquet his mangled leg as he reached out to his saddle. Hauling himself into the saddle, he pulled a flask from his bag and drank greedily.


    Lester watched the furious battle between Theodren and Theina with mounting anxiety. If the priest really could heal people then he could fix this. He could make all the death and destruction go away. Lester would go back to being hated, but at least he wouldn¡¯t be a murderer. He thought to himself.


    Lester watched as Theina¡¯s thread lashed tightly around Theodren¡¯s neck, stopping him mid furious swing. Theina¡¯s once pristine armor was battered and broken in several places and she stood at an odd angle with a shoulder that hung lifeless beside her. But stood she did, feeling none of the pain or crushing wounds she had suffered so far.


    Theodren scrabbled at the thread around his neck, trying with all his might, to break free and continue his assault. Lester turned back to the Cardinal. ¡°Please, you have to stop this!¡±


    Hardwright looked down from his flask at the boy pleading at him with tears in his eyes. Truly he was a hideous child. ¡°Do inform Theina that when she is done with her fun, to attend me at the capitol.¡± Hardwright struck, like a viper at Lester with the reins. He recoiled with a surprised cry as he cupped his now bleeding eye.


    Hardwright fled. Whipping his horse hard with the lead, he gritted his teeth at the pain of his mangled leg bouncing freely against the side of his horse. Soon he was past the town, and before long he was gone into the night, free of the carnage, free of Theodren¡¯s wrath.


    Lester cursed himself for a fool yet again, as he held his hand to the cut above his eye. He turned his eye back to the fight between Theina and the Priest. While not breaking free of her Thread, Theodren yanked on the golden string sending her flying toward him.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Screamed Lester. He ran as best he could toward the two avatars of destruction as they railed against eachother. His cries fell on deaf ears as their one and only focus was the other¡¯s demise.


    With a roar, Theodren released Retribution. The vineling retracted up his tattered sleeve as Theodren latched onto The small inquisitor with great meaty paws. Grabbing her by the neck he slammed her into the dirt. Thread forgotten, she slashed stabbed and cut at the Priest.


    Theodren merely grimaced through the pain, refusing to relinquish his grip on the woman. He glared into the face of the golden mask. If Theina felt any fear or pain, none of it showed in the dull golden eyes behind the mask. He slammed her into the dirt again and again. Squeezing the life from her as tears of rage and shame fell upon the mask from Theodren¡¯s face.


    ¡°STOP!¡± Lester threw himself at the pair, trying desperately to stop the violence. Theodren froze at the interruption, his grip easing ever so slightly. Theina¡¯s flurry of strikes picked up speed, jabs and slashes flew in every direction, catching Lester in the throat.


    Blood gushed from the wound splashing onto The pair locked in struggle. As he fell, Lester reached for Theina¡¯s golden mask. With what strength he had left he pulled till the mask broke free from Theina¡¯s face with a resounding ¡®RIIIP!¡¯


    The Cardinal¡¯s Thread binding Theina¡¯s mind snapped free of the mask that had been anchoring his power. As her mind returned to the forefront of her being, she blinked.

 Chapter 18. A Bargain struck

    Chapter 18.


    A Bargain Struck.


    Reina blinked as she surfaced from the Cardinal¡¯s influence. Her blades clattered to the ground as her eyes beheld the terrifying visage of the bloodied man above her. She shrank before his rage as tears sprang to her eyes.


    ¡°No.¡± She whispered Theodren¡¯s grip on her throat released as he watched tears flood her eyes and a deep purple of grief enveloped her soul. She broke free of Theodren, struggling to her feet, she cried out in pain as she hobbled over to the family of corpses that she had left in her wake.


    ¡°No. No. No. No. No!!!¡± She fell to her knees before the mangled bodies of Pieter and Polly, limbs bent at unnatural angles, she was faced with the horror of what she had done. Her breath came faster and faster as the magnitude of her destruction settled upon her, she scrambled over to Evan and Eleina.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I didn¡¯t mean¡­ this isn¡¯t what¡­ I didn¡¯t want...¡± She reached out a shaking hand toward Evan¡¯s corpse. In his dying moments he had dragged himself closer to his wife and child. His reaching hand just inches from the tiny lifeless fingers of his newborn daughter.


    The blood on Reina¡¯s hand caught her eye. She looked down to examine herself, trying to see where the blood would end but it did not. She was soaked in it. She screamed the wail of a broken soul as she faced the product of her barbarism. She tore at her clothes with weak and desperate hands trying to distance herself from the blood.


    She fell further to her elbows as she tried to extricate the smallest corpse from the arms of her mother, hoping against hope that there was still life left in the babe.


    ¡°Have you not taken enough?¡± Growled Theodren from behind her. She turned to see the Priest, holding the limp body of Lester in his arms. Theodren glowered down at her. ¡°Was taking their lives not enough? The last thing Eleina ever did was shield her child from you. And now you steal her from her mother¡¯s arms?


    Tears fell freely down Reina¡¯s face as she shook her head. She sobbed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯m so sorry! Please!¡± She threw herself at his feet, prostrating herself before him. ¡°That boy said you healed people! You can fix this! Please! I don¡¯t want this! Kill me! Torture me! I don¡¯t care! But please!¡± She begged. ¡°Bring them back!¡±


    Theodren stared down at her, rage giving way to a deep consuming sadness. ¡°That door is not mine to open.¡±


    ¡°He speaks the truth child.¡± Reina¡¯s head snapped up at the otherworldly whisper that pierced her very soul. The world seemed frozen in place as she searched for the source of the voice.


    Eleina¡¯s body rose from the ground like a puppet on strings. Grotesque in its grace, the corpse came to its feet still holding the child. Eyes wild with fear, Reina¡¯s mouth fell open in a silent scream of horror as she beheld the ghoulish figure. The corpse¡¯ eyes snapped open, revealing two voids of black that sat above a too wide smile. ¡°It is mine.¡±


    Words failed Reina as her fear silenced her broken sobs. She could only stare at the ghoul who looked around at the carnage with lightless eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve fed me well today, child. Many of your order have offered me feasts, but none have ever delivered such an intriguing morsel. Eleina¡¯s corpse dragged a bloody finger along Theviana¡¯s cold and lifeless face. A curious grin spread across the ghoul¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°What are you?!¡± Shrieked Reina, finding her voice through the fear. ¡°How rude of me! Of course I know how important names are to you mortals.¡± The corpse gave a halting bow like a marionette on tangled strings. ¡°I am Nihila. And I hold the Black Door.¡±


    Reina¡¯s mind reeled as her faith broke for the second time that day. She had believed her entire life, that the church of Holy Order was a bastion of goodness in the world. What little she had been told of her father was that through the Church, he held the Order of the world together for the greater good.


    Her entire life she had built her plans around the accolades she would attain through the Church. The rose gold image of the praise and grandeur she would enjoy in her service, was shattered in a single bloody afternoon.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    But as she beheld the otherworldly horror of Nihila smiling down at her, another foundational pillar of her worldview crumbled. The Church had lied. The creature standing before her could be nothing less than a god, and it was not Odrain.


    Sobs returned to wrack Reina¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Why!?¡± She wailed. ¡°Why me!?¡± Nihila chuckled as she strode past Reina to the frozen form of Theodren, still glowering down at the spot where Reina used to be.


    ¡°Because my sister,¡± Nihila purred, running a hand down Theodren¡¯s arm. ¡°Finally did something interesting.¡±


    Reina stared, confused, at the god who¡¯s attention remained fixed on Theodren. ¡°Quite the specimen, isn¡¯t he?¡± The way Nihila squeezed and caressed at the large man sickened her but she said nothing. ¡°He want¡¯s me, you know.¡± Nihila shot a coy smile at Reina¡¯s shocked face.


    ¡°After all you took from him, he wants me so badly I can taste it like like the scent of rotten meat on the air.¡± A frown pulled at the edges of her dead lips. ¡°But his duty won¡¯t let him. He¡¯ll kill and kill until not a single Golden Thread remains on this earth. And then and only then would he give himself to me.¡±


    Nihila raised a hand to her mouth like a school girl telling a secret. ¡°But I¡¯ll tell you something he doesn¡¯t know.¡± Reina eyed her warily, waiting for the corpse to continue. ¡°He will never see my door.¡±


    Reina¡¯s eyes grew wide at that. Immortality was something many of the most powerful lords of the capitol merely pretended at. Often demanding divine mending from the Order in exchange for underhanded undertakings from the highest levels of the Church to the parliament itself.


    Nihila snorted as if reading directly from Reina¡¯s mind. ¡°You mortals are all the same, greedy and careless to the point of destruction, caring naught for the ruin you leave in your wake.¡±


    The corpse stared up at the Imposing priest . ¡°But Theodren, This man risks himself just so that the ones who would kill him might avoid my door just a little longer.¡±


    A melancholy sigh escaped the corpse¡¯s purple lips. ¡°But he will never cross my threshold.¡± An irritated edge infused the god¡¯s words.


    ¡°My darling sister saw to that.¡± Nihila poked at the Caduceus in Theodren¡¯s chest, exposed by Reina¡¯s blades. ¡°There are more!?¡± Blurted Reina, surprised at her own outburst.


    Nihila shot a mischievous look at Reina who cringed at the look. Nihila continued. ¡°My sister is not one to take. Giving is all she knows how to do. How curious that she would take the best of her creations away from me.¡±


    The corpse turned its eyes back to Reina as if an idea had suddenly occurred to her. ¡°And speaking of giving.¡± Nihila stalked back over to Reina, a slick smile on her borrowed face. ¡°I have a gift for you.¡±


    Reina cowered before the walking corpse. ¡°A gift?¡± Was all she could mutter. Nihila looked down to the quiet bundle in her arms. ¡°Theodren pulled this babe from my grasp just weeks ago.¡± Reina¡¯s eyes welled up at the baby''s mention. ¡°Weeks!?¡± She sobbed.


    Nihila continued. ¡°He almost did it without my sister¡¯s help, but your Weaver,¡± Tsk¡¯d the corpse. ¡°Would rather break his own priest¡¯s Thread, than allow this child to be born.¡±


    Nihila held the baby out to Reina who recoiled, unable to bear the sight of the violence she had wrought on her smallest victim.¡°I want to know why.¡± The corpse purred.


    Reina¡¯s hands shook as she reached for the babe. If she could take the child from this god of death, her sins might just be bearable, but there had to be a catch. She paused as her hands hovered inches from the child. Her mother liked to remind her that no gift is free. And she looked at the god with mistrust in her eyes.


    ¡°What do you require of me in return?¡± Nihila smiled down at the woman. ¡°Clever girl. But fret not, all I require is your service, and your Thread.¡±


    Reina was shocked. Her Thread was what had elevated her, her entire life. It had gained her the praise of her peers and patrons alike. It had opened doors for her. She looked around at what remained of the village that was a thriving community only an hour ago. It had slaughtered a town full of innocents.


    ¡°Take it.¡± Spat Reina, reaching further for the baby. Nihila pulled the babe just barely out of reach. ¡°Understand child, that what I give you in it¡¯s place is no paltry power like the Thread you so carelessly bandied about. What I give you is the waters of Acheron, the river of Woe. Death shall follow you all your days. Do you understand?¡±


    Reina was beyond listening and beyond caring. Whatever consequence she suffered she no longer cared. ¡°I accept.¡± An amused expression crossed Nihila¡¯s face as she placed the bundle in Reina¡¯s reaching arms


    As the babe touched Reina¡¯s hands she grunted as her lengthy Thread was ripped from her soul. This was a pain far deeper than any she had ever experienced. Her agony grew further still, as the symbol of a black door was seared into her chest.  She had never known a suffering like this, but there was nothing that could force her to drop the child in her arms.


    She clutched Theviana to her chest as tears once again sprang to her eyes. The cold of the baby¡¯s corpse soaked into her skin. The sensation repulsed the woman, but she held the babe all the more tightly as she felt a different kind of cold, creeping and sickly, flow from the child into her very soul. A river of ice cold Acher grew within her as she drained the death from the tiny form in her arms.


    As time returned to its natural flow, Theodren¡¯s head snapped to where Reina now knelt, feet from where she had been only a second prior. He opened his mouth to speak but was struck dumb by the last sound he had dared to hope for.


    The cry of an infant

 Chapter 19. A child in need.

    Chapter 19.


    A Child in Need.


    The still form of Lester jostled in his arms as he rushed to the ground beside Reina. The boy, he placed as quickly and as gently as he could on the ground before he pulled back the cloth covering the babe cradled by a hysterically sobbing Reina.


    Theviana wailed at the world. Great ear splitting cries that echoed to the empty buildings springing alight from dinner fires left untended. Laughter joined the babes cry of distress as Theodren turned his attention to the woman who cried and laughed simultaneously at the tiny bundle in her arms.


    Theodren reached for the babe in Reina¡¯s arms. The woman tensed, eyes wide and wild with fear, as she clung tighter to the child. A spike of anger formed in Theodren, that he would be kept from his Godchild by the woman who orphaned her in the first place, but as he prepared to take the child from Reina, his eyes caught on the colors of her soul.


    Her soul was a flurry of colors. Theodren had never seen so many in one soul at a time. There was grief and joy, anger and anxiety, and stranger still there was desperation and love amongst a multitude of others. There in her chest was a bloom of Love Theodren had seen before. He had seen it in the mother bear who threw herself between her child and him. He had seen it amongst the families of the town, and just an hour ago he had seen it in Eleina¡¯s bosom as she held Theviana in her warm arms.


    Theodren shook his head in disgust at the broken woman standing between him and his Godchild. Whatever this woman had done to return her to the living was not his concern. Theviana needed him now, and he would not leave her in the arms of her parent¡¯s murderer.


    ¡°Release my Godchild woman, I will not ask again.¡± Reina ripped the child away from his hands. She hobbled to her feet crying out in pain from the myriad injuries she had suffered from her battle with Theodren. Theviana cried all the louder as Reina held her tight to the cold and bloody armor on her chest.


    ¡°She¡¯s mine! I brought her into this world, she¡¯s mine!¡± shouted a defiant but desperate Reina. Her eyes darted around the burning village, seeking an escape like a cornered animal. Reina took a halting step, fleeing from the Imposing priest. After three hobbling strides, she tripped. Twisting as she fell she landed on her shoulder, sparing Theviana the fall but jostling her further with the impact.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Reina¡¯s exhaustion both physical and mental, had caught up to her. There was no more adrenaline or shock to shelter her from the pain of her injuries. Nevertheless she crawled, holding the screaming babe tight as she struggled.


    A deep sigh left Theodren as he walked after the nearly feral woman. His anger had exhausted him. A numbness of the soul ebbed through Theodren as he reached down and halted Reina by the shoulder. She gave a cry of pain as he flipped her onto her back. Theodren pulled the wailing babe from her grasp as Reina slapped and clawed at him, sobbing as she pleaded with him. ¡°She needs me!¡±


    Theodren did not enjoy the terror and anxiety he saw growing in the woman¡¯s soul, but he steeled himself as he walked away from the murderess. With each step he took from Reina, Theviana¡¯s cries grew weaker and weaker. Theodren¡¯s eyes snapped down to the babe in his arms that grew colder with each step. In a panic, he pushed Vitae into the child. The spring of Vitae in the babe¡¯s soul was still there, but it grew weaker. He tried to push his own vitae toward it but was rebuffed by a power he didn¡¯t recognize.


    Theodren¡¯s brow furrowed at the mote of cold power keeping his Vitae from the child. Theodren stopped dead in his tracks as he sought an alternative path to infuse the child with the healing water¡¯s of his Vitae. She was dying, again, and there was nothing he could do. He shook his head, refusing to give up. Theodren assaulted the mysterious river of power, every angle and every trick he could think of was attempted, and failed. His growing frustration was halted in surprise as he felt a hand grab at the hem of his robe. He looked down to see Reina climbing him. Fabric bunched in her hands she dragged herself up his side toward the babe growing cold and quiet in his arms.


    ¡°Why are you so damn tall?¡± she grunted as she scaled the stunned man. Theodren could only stare at the strange woman as she pulled herself upright against him. Exhausted and leaning into his chest on one good leg, she placed a hand on Theviana¡¯s head.


    Theodren¡¯s mouth fell open as the river of cold power was drained from the child into Reina¡¯s palm. A trickle of the icey ethereal water still flowed in the child, but it was enough for Theodren to push past with his vast store of Vitae, warming the child with life water, it eased Theviana¡¯s cries which had returned in full.


    ¡°I told you. She needs me.¡± Reina slumped in exhaustion, sliding down the front of Theodren¡¯s robe, he caught her in his left arm on instinct while still holding Theviana in his right. Theodren stared down at the broken woman now asleep in his arms. A hundred questions swirled in his mind for the unconscious woman, but she was in no state to answer them.


    Theodren moved her further up into his arms as he turned to his next task. The bodies left behind by the sleeping woman in his arms were everywhere. He may not have been able to save him, but they would still need him now, one final time. His eyes fell to the shovel Pieter had dropped in his mad rush to save his daughter and granddaughter. ¡°A mad bastard to the end Pieter.¡± Theodren let out a sad chuckle as he walked over to the family of friends that now lay in the dirt. As he mentally prepared himself for the work of their burial, he was unnerved by the mysterious smile that was frozen for all time, across Eleina¡¯s face.

 Chapter 20. Travel plans

    Chapter 20.


    Travel plans.


    It was hours since Theodren had started digging. By now his back should have been aching and stiff from the labor, but the vitae he had pulled from the guards rejuvenated the muscles as he worked, and planned his next move. Three years ago, Theodren had sworn a duty to the people of this village, but once the last grave was dug and prayer was said. The people would have no further need of him, ever again.


    Theodren looked to the last surviving member of his flock. Theviana remained asleep in Reina¡¯s equally still arms. Theodren had placed Reina and the baby against a tree beside Eleina¡¯s home. While not expecting her to run away with the child in her battered state, Theodren took the precaution of blanketing the pair in roots that would certainly keep them warm, but also prevent a sudden escape.


    Their chests rising and falling in unison, he struggled to find a solution to the woman. Every attempt to remove Eleina¡¯s daughter from the woman resulted in the same thing.


    A river of cold energy flooded the space around the babe¡¯s Vitae, threatening to smother it out of existence like a candle dropped in a pond. It was only Reina¡¯s touch that seemed to keep the ethereal water¡¯s at bay. Something had happened to bring Theviana back to the world of the living. Reina had moved several feet in the blink of an eye, and was suddenly holding a living baby that was dead in the arms of her mother only a second before.


    There was only one conclusion he could come to. A god had intervened, and it was not his. Yggdrazil had remained absent or at least, quiet, for some time now. Theodren could think of one god and one god only that could open the black door and bring Theviana back, and he shuddered at the thought.


    Theodren placed Pieter¡¯s mostly flattened shovel beside the final grave as he lowered Lester¡¯s frail and crooked frame into the hole. ¡°A child unwanted by the village will burn it down just to feel its warmth.¡± was an old adage a wise woman from his father¡¯s lands had told him once. Lost on him as it was then, it was a stark wording of his failure towards Lester now.


    The boy was sly, disrespectful, conniving and illformed. But he was also an unwanted child, who wandered into town, alone and neglected, to fend for himself. Lester had lied, stolen and manipulated in order to make his way through life in the village. In the end he had made a truly terrible mistake in service to a petty vendetta that could have been avoided if Theodren had properly cared for the boy as he had the other townspeople. In the end, It was Lester that had stopped the blood shed, late as it may have been.


    Theodren said a prayer for the boy as he had the others, wishing him a better life on the other side of the Black Door as he began shoveling the dirt back over the last body. His service had ended.


    Theodren had scoured the village for survivors but there were none to be found. Reina had done brutal and efficient work while in Hardwrights¡¯ thrall. With the last of his flock buried, his thoughts turned to the journey ahead of him. Theviana would not be safe in the lands of Grandia. Born only two weeks and already death and destruction had found the babe.


    No, There was only one place where he would find refuge for the girl. His father¡¯s lands to the north was a cold place that bred a hardy people with no time for a church full of rules and dogma. They lived according to their own Order. Where might was right and strength was a requirement of life. In the Nordlands, The people were as warm as the land was frigid, and he would need that hospitality when he returned to his father¡¯s hall.


    Their parting five years ago had not been a pleasant one. In his excitement to see the larger world beyond the fjords and mountain tops of his homeland, he had left without his father¡¯s blessing. The two had fought, with words and with fists as was their way in the north. All told, Theodren left for the Conclave¡¯s academy, with a cracked rib and a split lip on his smiling face as he headed south with his mother¡¯s tales of grandeur and greatness filling his head.


    A frustrated sigh left Theodren as he got to work laying stones at the head of the many graves he had dug. No one had been more excited about Theodren¡¯s Thread than his mother Sigrid. She was the only Priestess in the whole of the north and she had been ecstatic at her only child¡¯s embrace of her faith as he discovered his Thread.


    He was not sure if, or how he would tell her his tale, but he would have a month to think about it. He scratched at the stubble forming on his chin, as the first fingers of dawn poked at the retreating darkness. He would need to move fast. The Cardinal had escaped, and when the young priestess fails to return to him, he would send scouts, and when the scouts see the graves, they would know that he survived.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Theodren pinched at the headache forming behind his eyes. He had no time. There was no time to search for survivors, certainly not enough time to bury the seventy eight men women and children Theodren had pulled from the wreckage of this tiny town. But he would not allow expediency to excuse him from his final duty to these people.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Theodren jumped. Just feet behind him stood Reina, holding the gently sleeping babe in her arms. ¡°What now, Big Bear?¡± Theodren¡¯s brow furrowed at the new moniker. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± He turned away, caught in his surprise, he was unsure of how to deal with the pale woman.


    Reina walked after him. ¡°What? You¡¯re too big to be people. You fight like a bear, You sound like a bear¡­¡± Theodren rounded on her nostrils flaring in irritation. ¡°The only reason you¡¯re still alive is because of her.¡± Theodren jabbed a finger at his Godchild in her arms. ¡°For some reason Theviana withers without you, and until I figure out why that is and how to fix my Godchild, you are coming with me.¡± Theodren stared hard into her face waiting for a reaction. Reina only looked down at the babe in her arms, a sad smile twitched at her mouth. ¡°Theviana.¡± she crooned. Theodren scoffed, storming away from the strange woman.


    Reina watched him honor the graves a final time before he stomped off toward the edge of the broken town. ¡°An angry bear.¡± she muttered, padding after him silently, doing her best not to wake the child. Theodren stopped suddenly in his tracks, causing Reina to skid to a stop to avoid running into him. He turned to her. ¡°How did you get out from under the blanket?¡± Reina cocked her head at the man. ¡°What blanket?¡± Theodren turned, walking over to the tree he had left Reina under.


    Dry and dead was the tree, from its branches to the roots Theodren had coaxed to cover the woman and child. Theodren turned an incredulous eye to Reina who merely shrugged her shoulders. ¡°Not my fault, it was that way when I woke up.¡± Theodren took a longer look at the woman beside him.


    He had not healed her when he placed her by the tree. His resentment would not allow him to. Ultimately he knew that she was not to blame, having suffered Hardwright¡¯s assault on his own mind, he was not surprised that she had fallen victim to it. That did not mean, however, that he had to like her. Somehow she had managed to heal herself without his aid, and Thread, he knew, did not heal that fast.


    ¡°You met a god didn¡¯t you.¡± Theodren asked her suddenly. She froze, the image of Nihila smiling at her through a borrowed face filling her mind. Reina walked stiffly past the man, head held haughty and high, as she tried to feign a normalcy that she did not feel.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, nosey-bear.¡± she huffed, stopping short as a wall of roots erupted at her feet. She yelped in surprise as they stretched higher than her hands could reach in seconds, blocking her retreat to nowhere.


    ¡°Rule number one.¡± Barked Theodren as she turned to face him, brows stuck firm to her hairline. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, whatever god you made a deal with won¡¯t matter when The Order sends another one of your ilk, to kill us both like you did to the town.¡± Reina flinched. ¡°Rule number two, you do as I say and stay by my side at all times. if you leave my side for even a moment, I will carry you in a sack on my shoulder for the entire journey, do you understand?¡± Reina raised a hand. ¡°What about when I need to pee?¡± Theodren brushed past her question. ¡°And thirdly, My name is Theodren. Do not call me bear.¡±


    Reina bobbed her head as she considered his words. ¡°Two out of three isn¡¯t bad Big bear.¡±


    She turned back back to the wall of roots blocking her path. ¡°What is this?¡± She poked at the wall of roots that slapped back at her hand. ¡°Rude!¡± She shook her hand as she stepped back.


    The wall of roots receded into the ground. Reina followed its path until she saw them re-emerge at Theodren¡¯s feet. Twining together until they formed a thick staff Theodren pulled from the ground.


    ¡°This.¡± Theodren answered dryly. Is Retribution, you¡¯ve met.¡± Reina wrinkled her nose at it. ¡°Well that¡¯s just not fair.¡± Theodren cocked an eyebrow at her. ¡°You orphaned my Godchild and now you¡¯re the only person keeping her alive.¡± Reina was stunned into silence at that. ¡°The only unfair thing here is that you¡¯re alive and they¡¯re not.¡± Theodren gestured to the graves behind him. ¡°Grab what you can, we¡¯re going north.¡±


    ¡°N-north!?¡± Reina blurted out, jogging after Theodren¡¯s broad back. ¡°That¡¯s Nordland! Those people eat people!¡± Theodren was stopped in his tracks by the incredible statement.


    ¡°Why would¡­ that doesn¡¯t¡­ who told you that?¡± Theodren managed, finally overcoming the mental stumbling block that was her statement.


    ¡°Soldiers...¡± Reina quipped back. Theodren only groaned resuming his pace. There had been a war for territory between his father and the Holy Kingdom of Grandia. The Church felt that it ought to own everything on the continent, and his father was less than pleased with the notion.


    For over a decade, Thorn held the Jormungand river. Outmanned and underpowered Thorn held back the Holy Kingdom¡¯s northern advance with horsemen and savagery. Butchering all but one enemy soldier, and leaving them maimed but alive to tell the story to whatever southern unit came to his rescue.


    Eventually the siege became so costly that the Holy Kingdom abandoned the assault in return for Thorn Stormwall, who had gained his name from his defense of the river garrison, taking a Priestess of the Royal Order as a member of his court.


    ¡°We don¡¯t eat people.¡± Grumbled Theodren as he trudged on. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why he¡¯s so big.¡± Mumbled Reina to the child as she followed behind him.


    As the sun finally found the horizon, Reina squinted into it as a thought occurred to her. ¡°I beg your pardon Mr. Bear sir, but North is that way.¡± Reina smirked as she pointed a sarcastic finger at the horizon to their right.


    Theodren gave an exasperated sigh but did not slow down. ¡°Church first. Then we go.

 Chapter 21. A New Duty

    Chapter 21.


    A New Duty.


    Theodren arrived at the church to find the door thrown open and the rattling of its contents echoing within. Two horses waited outside, saddlebags packed with the odds and ends of a man on the run.


    Theodren held out a hand motioning for Reina to stay behind him as he eased his way through the open door as stealthily as his bulk allowed. From Theodren¡¯s study, muffled ramblings spilled out into the nave, followed not long after by the portly and disheveled frame of the Mayor himself.


    ¡°Mayor?¡± Theodren called out, incredulously. Sylverworm squeaked as he froze like a rather large mouse before a cat. ¡°A-ah father Stormwall! I was just erm¡­¡± The mayor looked around, seeking an excuse or an exit. ¡°Packing?¡± Theodren supplied glowering at the man. ¡°Borrowing.¡± the Mayor shot back. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I really must be going, much business to attend to and all that.¡± Sylverworm tried to shuffle past the large man but was stopped by Theodren¡¯s meaty palm on his shoulder.


    ¡°Why are you in my church, Mayor.¡± Theodren eyed the large man¡¯s soul, watching as the colors of fear and deceit swirled together in his pitiful soul. ¡°I was simply sheltering from those awful inquisitors. I had no idea they were here until I saw the smoke on my way up to pay you a visit! Truly dreadful those Golden Shears, rather glad I missed them!¡±


    Reina stepped out from behind Theodren. ¡°Liar.¡± She hissed. The Mayor jumped. ¡°Ah s-sister Reina, you¡¯ve returned!¡± Theodren¡¯s head snapped from Reina to the Mayor. ¡°Returned?¡± He growled.


    ¡°Ah, well, you see.¡± Sylverworm fiddled with the ring on his finger making a small ¡®click!¡¯


    The Mayor lashed out with the speed of a desperate man, backhanding Theodren and leaving a thin scratch that grew purple and angry within seconds.


    The large man stumbled back. Clutching at the burning in his cheek as he cursed, cycling vitae through the sickened wound on his face. ¡°What did you do!?¡± Theodren roared, surprised at the poison that held his vitae in a deadlock.


    ¡°Just a little something I picked up on my travels. Now if you don¡¯t mind I will see myself out.¡± Sylverworm moved to shoulder past Reina, deeming her the lesser threat as he kept a wary eye on the big man, chuckling to himself as he went.


    His laughter found an abrupt end as Reina¡¯s hand seized his throat in an icy grip. ¡°What¡¯s so funny Mayor?¡± Color drained from his face as she squeezed tighter. ¡°We went down to the village, just like you said.¡± Her vision blurred with angry tears, but she would not look away from the fat, quivering mess of a man in her hand. ¡°We found him among the common folk just like you said.¡± Her grip tightened as black tendrils spread up the Mayor¡¯s jowls and his life drained into her palm. ¡°I killed EVERYONE! And you, sent me there.¡±


    He scrabbled and clawed at her with pudgy hands that had never known labor. Trying to infect her with the same poison ring Theodren was fighting with his Vitae. But the life she drained from every fat and bloated cell of this cowardly bureaucrat replenished her faster than any poison could destroy.


    ¡°Don¡¯t! Please!¡± The Mayor begged, as his portly cheeks turned gaunt and hollow at her touch. He fell to his knees but Reina would not let go. ¡°Reina! Stop!¡± Theodren shouted, color returning to his face as he wrestled down the poison.


    ¡°He knew! He knew we were coming! He knew what Hardwright would do!¡± Reina blinked as the darkness of the Mayor¡¯s soul opened up before her mind''s eye. She sank her nails deeper into the man¡¯s fleshy neck as she hissed. ¡°You kept our coming a secret so you could use the chaos to make yourself more important!?¡± Her outrage echoed throughout the church, waking Theviana into a cry as she was disturbed from her slumber.


    The mayor¡¯s voice came out raspy and fragile. ¡°I didn¡¯t think they would kill everyone.¡± A furious snarl pulled at Reina¡¯s face. ¡°Just a few, you thought. Just a handful of lives lost in the scuffle, so you could step in and look like a hero to these people as you drove us away with your authority.¡±


    The black tendrils had spread throughout the Mayor¡¯s body, draining him of the excess he had accumulated throughout his life. His eyes grew dull as death overtook him. She screamed her pain into his slackening face. ¡°IT¡¯S YOUR FAULT! IT¡¯S YOUR FAULT! IT¡¯S YOUR FAULT!¡±


    Theviana wailed in her arms as Reina screamed at the shriveled corpse. Theodren walked behind Reina, placing a soft hand on her back as she screamed and cried at the drawn and sunken face of what used to be the Mayor. He pulled Theviana from Reina¡¯s limp arms as she sobbed.


    Theodren looked down at the mummified corpse that all but confirmed Reina¡¯s deal with death. What she had done was terrifying, but Theodren couldn¡¯t bring himself to fear the broken woman before him, all he felt was pity.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Reina spun, throwing herself into Theodren¡¯s arms. She beat at his chest, screaming into the rough fabric of his robe. Theodren held the crying babe up and out of the way of Reina¡¯s flailing fists as both babe and woman cried in his arms.


    Unsure of what to do, he wrapped his free arm around her, rubbing his calloused hand up and down her back as broken, hiccuping sobs wracked her small frame.


    Overwhelmed as he was, he almost didn¡¯t notice when Reina¡¯s cries, as well as time itself came to a stop. ¡°Oh my children.¡± Theodren¡¯s head snapped up at the familiar voice. There, planted in front of the altar, was Yggdrazil, the Tree of Life. A storm of emotions waged war inside Theodren¡¯s head. Relief at her presence battled resentment for her absence when he had needed her most.


    Yggdrazil¡¯s branch reached out to rest a warm leaf on Theodren¡¯s face, cleansing and closing what remained of the poisoned wound the Mayor had left. ¡°You have suffered much, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Theodren¡¯s attempt at a brave face cracked under the unexpected concern and care of his god. ¡°I failed them.¡± He whispered, ¡°I failed them all!¡± Tears of shame threatened to spill over from his eyes as Yggdrazil¡¯s branches poked and prodded at him like a mother fussing over her child, wiping away scars and bruises from wounds he would not heal for himself.


    ¡°I was supposed to protect them, but I couldn¡¯t do anything when they needed me!¡± He shouted, shaking as he lost the battle for control of his emotions.


    Yggdrazil waited silently as Theodren collected himself. ¡°Where were you?¡± He asked, fixing a hard stare on the god. Yggdrazil¡¯s branches drooped. ¡°I was not strong enough to cross the veil.¡± Theodren blinked at that, unsure of what her answer meant. She continued.


    ¡°For eons I waited, gaining strength to create my form once more after Odrain¡¯s betrayal. For millennia still, I waited for a worthy champion.¡± Theodren was dumbfounded at that. After his failure to protect the townspeople, he found it hard to believe that he was worthy of anything.


    ¡°For all my waiting, I was still too late to aid my only champion, when you needed me most. For that I am sorry.¡± Yggdrazil¡¯s proud trunk seemed to bend toward him in a sort of bow that shocked Theodren. ¡°Please, don¡¯t¡­¡± Theodren choked on his words. ¡°I couldn¡¯t save them. None of them, not even the child.¡± He shifted Theviana who gave a gurgle in his arms.


    He stared at Theviana in disbelief. ¡°She moved! How is she moving?¡± He gasped, pulling down the blanket that concealed her tiny mouth. A cry filled the air as she squirmed in his arms.


    ¡°She is as much mine as you are.¡± Yggdrazil answered, referencing the tiny spring of Vitae in the babe''s heart. Theviana¡¯s cries reached a new pitch that echoed off the stone walls of his church.


    ¡°She is a hungry one.¡± Yggdrazil crooned, extending a twig to caress the tiny mop of red hair on the child¡¯s head. ¡°Hungry.¡± Groaned Theodren, as his shoulders slumped. ¡°I have nothing to feed her!¡±


    A chuckle came from the Tree as a peach appeared on her branch. ¡°All you have, is all you need.¡± She said as the bottom of the peach protruded and then split, forming a nipple from which nectar began to drip. Theodren watched as Theviana suckled greedily at the peach brimming with nectar and Vitae.


    He watched the process, fascinated as the god¡¯s Vitae was able to push back but not eliminate the ring of cold and mysterious potential that surrounded the child¡¯s own spring of life water.


    ¡°Yggdrazil, what is that cold power in her soul?¡± He asked as he held the babe closer. A sound like tree limbs rubbing together escaped the Tree. ¡°That would be my sister, playing her own game.¡±


    Theodren arched a curious brow at the god. ¡°This Acher, is as much the babe¡¯s power as her Thread and Vitae are. That my sister would make a deal with a mortal.¡± Yggdrazil poked at Reina. ¡°Much less part with a soul that had already crossed her door, is even more surprising to me than the power itself.¡±


    Theodren¡¯s head spun at the implication. Three world shaping powers in one child. Whatever her path would be, it would be an auspicious one. Theviana pushed the peach out of her mouth half asleep. Snuggling her face deeper into Theodren¡¯s chest as she returned to her slumber.


    Retribution slithered from the collar of his tattered robe. Reaching out, it plucked the peach from Yggdrazil¡¯s branch, absorbing it into the length of itself, before returning to its shelter in Theodren¡¯s sleeve.


    ¡°Your vineling grows well.¡±  The god noted. The man Retribution consumed, flashed before Theodren¡¯s mind. ¡°She ate well yesterday.¡±


    Yggdrazil was silent for a time, as she studied the man before her. ¡°What will you do?¡±


    Theodren told the goddess of his father¡¯s lands in the north, and his plans to keep the child safe there. ¡°And then?¡± The Tree prodded. Theodren was silent. His need for revenge burned at the core of his very soul.  Only once the child was safely in the hands of his father¡¯s people, could he throw himself unreservedly after Cardinal Hardwright. His teeth ground at the thought of the man¡¯s smug smile.


    ¡°I will have justice for the lives he took.¡± He answered. Yggdrazil considered his words for a moment, before pulling her branches back into herself. ¡°Seek your vengeance, but I would remind you that life, is not to be taken lightly.¡±


    He nodded at the Tree¡¯s words. Before Theviana¡¯s resurrection, his mind was bent toward a cruel extermination of the entire Divine Order, but now¡­ he looked down at the sleeping babe in his arms. Vengeance was not enough. Not for her. To his eyes, the world was broken. Cruel men like Hardwright held sway over the lives of good and honest people. Men who treated the lives of common folk as merely inconveniences to be disposed of.


    Theodren did not want his Godchild to see the world as he did. She would need him not only to teach her about her Thread and her Vitae, but to teach her that true power is responsibility to those without strength of their own. The child¡¯s weight in his arms seemed to double in his mind.


    A new duty formed in him. He would seek out men like the Cardinal in every position of power they held. With a view of their souls, he would pass judgement, and if need be, retribution. He would not allow men like Hardwright to poison his Godchild¡¯s world before she could even take part in it.


    Determination filled his soul as he settled upon his new task. Yggdrazil seemed pleased with the plans forming in his mind as she faded from reality. Leaving behind a single flower, that floated gently toward the trio as time returned to its natural pace. Its gentle descent found its end on Reina¡¯s tear stained cheek.