Maris Interlude Number One
This is Part Thirteen in a series.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve
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Maris was prepared for her mission, but she wasn't prepared for the sight she saw at the breakfast table. Egan, being himself, had draped himself all over Breccan, being even more blatant than usual. She knew how inappropriate the god could be, but, still, seeing him behave like that made her stomach turn.
“Oh, good morning, Maris. It's quite a lovely day already, isn't it?” Egan purred, while looking directly at Breccan.
Of course, the unfortunate ex-mage was what Egan meant when he said “lovely day.” Breccan was the entire reason for her mission. She would never consider contacting the gods if not for the young man currently in Egan's clutches.
But Egan needed to be stopped, that much Maris knew now. So, despite her trepidation, she would return to her family's old home in the mountains and use what priestly power remained there to contact the gods and have them bring Egan under control. Maris supposed she could just pray normally, but regular prayer was no guarantee of having a god actually hear you.
Maris said curtly, “Yeah, lovely day.”
Egan noticed how warmly she was dressed. “My, you're rather bundled up for this early in the season. Are you going somewhere?”
“It's not any business of yours where I go,” she replied.
“Have a nice time,” Finbar murmured, his voice hard.
He had been in a terrible mood ever since Egan claimed his former partner. Maris felt for him. Finbar could be counted as the other reason she would try her mission. Or perhaps it would be best to say she disliked Egan more than the other gods, but it was, probably, mostly about saving the fellow mortals she had come to like in the short time she had known them.
“Goodbye, Maris,” Breccan said.
“Goodbye, everyone.” Maris turned and exited the house before any more suspicion could be cast on her. She didn't want Egan trying to stop her with his divine power. While she was an accomplished mage, she had to admit she wasn't as powerful as the average god.
She began her trek to the mountains slowly and carefully, making sure to keep on the lookout as she walked through the more dangerous parts of the city. This was the quickest route to where she wanted to go, but it could be dangerous, as evidenced by the two men who thought a woman traveling alone would be an easy target.
They were wrong.
Maris quickly cut the throat of the first attacker, before kneeing the other in the groin. He doubled over. She could have left him there. Maris didn't. She stabbed him over the heart as he tried to charge her. Those two wouldn't bother any other women anymore. Perhaps Maris could have run from them, but fighting them off was actually less of an effort for her.
She slipped through the back gate of the city, managing to avoid any guards who might ask her what business she had. Maris didn't want to deal with any interrogation when her mission was of questionable legality. She didn't want to deal with those suspicious, gray skies either. They threatened rain, which would turn to snow higher up in the mountains.
Indeed, raindrops started to fall almost as soon as she was past the city walls. She pulled up the hood of her cloak, hoping the rain would stoop soon. Of course, that would require luck. Her mother would have said she should pray to the gods for better weather, but Maris had always taken that to be nonsense.
Too soon, and the ground started to slope, telling Maris she was near to entering the mountains proper. The rain kept falling, though at least it was not much more than a drizzle. Maris ignored the twisting of her stomach that seemed to worsen with every step she took. She had a job to do; no room existed for her to give into the memories and traumas of the past.
The path narrowed and curved back and forth, following the terrain. Once Maris got high enough into the mountains, the rain turned to snow. It made Maris grateful for the heat-generating spell she knew. While her bests skills were in fighting magics, she knew enough to keep herself somewhat warm. That didn't prevent her from grumbling to herself about her family's choice of location for their priestly home and sanctuary.
Did gods enjoy watching mortals shiver? Maris suspected it might be so. She should come upon the family complex soon, dreading the moment when she did. It used to be a beautiful set of structures, but now it was nothing but burned ruins after the Sacrifice. Maris shuddered. She didn't want to think about that, though being near the family complex meant she couldn't help herself.
She couldn't help the sick feeling in her gut. Maris felt grateful that she hadn't eaten much for breakfast, or she would have lost it all the moment she came upon the ruins of her old family home. Next to a clear blue mountain lake were piles of darkened rubble and burnt wood, buried under a layer of snow. They formed wet, jagged heaps, a haphazard monument to what was.
Maris could barely discern the shapes of the old buildings from pathetic remnants of walls. She could tell enough, at least, to know where the last vestiges of priestly power would be. These fading bits of power would be necessary if she were to have any chance of making the gods listen to her. Her own non-priestly magic, like all magic, came from the gods, though the average mage had a very indirect connection with the divine. Maris had forfeited her direct divine power when she abandoned her family.
There existed a risk her ordinary magic would interfere with her ability to use her family's home to communicate with the gods. Maris still had to take the risk, and she wasn't about to give up her magic to complete her mission. She would find a way to do her job without sacrificing too much. Sighing, she thought about how she wasn't nearly selfless enough to be part of her family. As sick as the reminders of the past made her, a part of her was glad she had been gone when it all happened.
Stomach sinking even farther, she made her way to the Priestly Circle in the middle of the family complex. The smooth gray stone disc less snow upon it than anything else. This gave Maris hope, as it meant the thing still retained some manner of magic. She placed her things on the ground just outside the stone circle. Taking a deep breath, Maris stepped inside it.
Immediately, she felt a tingle of priestly magic. There was something here. Now, all Maris had t do was access the power despite possessing ordinary magic. She muttered under her breath an old family prayer-incantation. Truthfully, she didn't know if she were even allowed to say the words anymore. The sad fact was, none of her family would be around to punish her if she were breaking their code.
For what seems like hours, Maris muttered the prayer-incantation, shivering all the while. The temperature seemed to become colder and colder, though she couldn't tell if that were the result of standing on the stone disc and attempting contact or simply a result of the weather. Maris soon enough began to worry she wasn't going to get any results at all. While she had felt that tingle of magic, after she started the prayer-incantation, she had felt nothing. Indeed, nothing seemed to be happening. Perhaps her ordinary magic was preventing her success after all.
Just about to give up, Maris felt something, a kind of answer. She kept muttering, not wanting to break the spell in case she were only imagining things. Maris wasn't. The Priestly Circle began to glow a soft white. She tried not to startle, but that was nearly impossible. Still, she kept muttering the words, not wanting to ruin her potential success in this job.
Eventually, the glow simply became too much for her to keep muttering. The light glowed so brightly it burned her eyes. She squeezed them shut and dropped to her knees. Maris couldn't even move off the stone disc; something stuck her to it. Fearing the worst, she prepared to die on the Priestly Circle. Was this truly the end?
It wasn't.
The glow stopped. Everything returned to normal, save for the young man who had materialized before her. Maris, once she got back to her feet, stared at him in disbelief. He was Breccan's height, maybe an inch or so shorter, and rather thin. His skin was somewhat tanned, a bit darker than Egan's. He wore his chestnut brown hair long, down to his mid-back. The man was extraordinarily, inhumanly beautiful, with striking extremely pale violet eyes. They were the kind of eyes no human ever had. This man was one of the gods.
For a long time, Maris couldn't find the words to say. Her summoning had worked. She hadn't, in truth, quite expected a god to materialize just like that. Maris had thought it more likely she would hear the voice of one of them before they bothered to show up. Stranger still, she didn't recognize this particular deity. The strangeness only increased when Maris noticed how he dressed in a rather plain and human-like manner, which was rather unusual for a god, at least for the ones she had met.
“Hello,” she managed, “I'm Maris.”
“Nice to meet you, Maris. I'm Nico.”
Nico? Maris didn't know any gods named Nico.
“I see you got my call,” Maris said. “If you don't mind, I'm having a bit of trouble with a god named Egan.”
Nico murmured, “Egan? Oh, he's completely insufferable, isn't he? Loved to tell me I didn't have the 'proper pride' for my kind. No idea what he was talking about!”
Maris muttered, “He's a bit more than insufferable. Egan lied to my friend Finbar about being a Chosen One, all so he could steal Finbar's lover away from him.”
“That's not very nice of him,” Nico said.
“No, it's not. So can you, I don't know, maybe do something about it?” Maris asked.
“And what do you want me to do?” Nico looked utterly baffled.
Maris raised an eyebrow. “Reprimand him? Punish him? Make him stop being an asshole? Don't you care that one of your fellows is being totally out of line?”
He looked even more confused, somehow. “One of my fellows?”
“Yeah, don't you care that another god is making you all look even worse than usual?” She secretly thought this Nico was a bit on the thickheaded side.
Nico wondered, “Another god? But I'm just an ordinary mortal!”
What? Maris could not have heard that right.
She asked, “Excuse me? Did you just say you were an ordinary mortal?”
He nodded. “But of course. What else would I be?”
Maris stammered, “But - but I summoned you with a prayer-incantation. How can you say you're not a god?”
Nice observed his surroundings. “Oh, is this a Priestly Circle? How odd. I wonder how I got here. You can't have summoned me, as prayer-incantations don't work on mortals.”
His open face held no trace of a lie. Maris was forced to assume he actually believed he was mortal. If that were the case, she had a huge problem on her hands. Not only couldn't Nico do anything about Egan, she was now responsible for him, as she had summoned him. What was she going to do? Maris didn't know, but she knew she had to do something.
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written for writerverse Table of Doom Alpha #9. Location: Mountains & 500themes prompt #45 - "Caress the Darkness, Kiss the Light"
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve
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Maris was prepared for her mission, but she wasn't prepared for the sight she saw at the breakfast table. Egan, being himself, had draped himself all over Breccan, being even more blatant than usual. She knew how inappropriate the god could be, but, still, seeing him behave like that made her stomach turn.
“Oh, good morning, Maris. It's quite a lovely day already, isn't it?” Egan purred, while looking directly at Breccan.
Of course, the unfortunate ex-mage was what Egan meant when he said “lovely day.” Breccan was the entire reason for her mission. She would never consider contacting the gods if not for the young man currently in Egan's clutches.
But Egan needed to be stopped, that much Maris knew now. So, despite her trepidation, she would return to her family's old home in the mountains and use what priestly power remained there to contact the gods and have them bring Egan under control. Maris supposed she could just pray normally, but regular prayer was no guarantee of having a god actually hear you.
Maris said curtly, “Yeah, lovely day.”
Egan noticed how warmly she was dressed. “My, you're rather bundled up for this early in the season. Are you going somewhere?”
“It's not any business of yours where I go,” she replied.
“Have a nice time,” Finbar murmured, his voice hard.
He had been in a terrible mood ever since Egan claimed his former partner. Maris felt for him. Finbar could be counted as the other reason she would try her mission. Or perhaps it would be best to say she disliked Egan more than the other gods, but it was, probably, mostly about saving the fellow mortals she had come to like in the short time she had known them.
“Goodbye, Maris,” Breccan said.
“Goodbye, everyone.” Maris turned and exited the house before any more suspicion could be cast on her. She didn't want Egan trying to stop her with his divine power. While she was an accomplished mage, she had to admit she wasn't as powerful as the average god.
She began her trek to the mountains slowly and carefully, making sure to keep on the lookout as she walked through the more dangerous parts of the city. This was the quickest route to where she wanted to go, but it could be dangerous, as evidenced by the two men who thought a woman traveling alone would be an easy target.
They were wrong.
Maris quickly cut the throat of the first attacker, before kneeing the other in the groin. He doubled over. She could have left him there. Maris didn't. She stabbed him over the heart as he tried to charge her. Those two wouldn't bother any other women anymore. Perhaps Maris could have run from them, but fighting them off was actually less of an effort for her.
She slipped through the back gate of the city, managing to avoid any guards who might ask her what business she had. Maris didn't want to deal with any interrogation when her mission was of questionable legality. She didn't want to deal with those suspicious, gray skies either. They threatened rain, which would turn to snow higher up in the mountains.
Indeed, raindrops started to fall almost as soon as she was past the city walls. She pulled up the hood of her cloak, hoping the rain would stoop soon. Of course, that would require luck. Her mother would have said she should pray to the gods for better weather, but Maris had always taken that to be nonsense.
Too soon, and the ground started to slope, telling Maris she was near to entering the mountains proper. The rain kept falling, though at least it was not much more than a drizzle. Maris ignored the twisting of her stomach that seemed to worsen with every step she took. She had a job to do; no room existed for her to give into the memories and traumas of the past.
The path narrowed and curved back and forth, following the terrain. Once Maris got high enough into the mountains, the rain turned to snow. It made Maris grateful for the heat-generating spell she knew. While her bests skills were in fighting magics, she knew enough to keep herself somewhat warm. That didn't prevent her from grumbling to herself about her family's choice of location for their priestly home and sanctuary.
Did gods enjoy watching mortals shiver? Maris suspected it might be so. She should come upon the family complex soon, dreading the moment when she did. It used to be a beautiful set of structures, but now it was nothing but burned ruins after the Sacrifice. Maris shuddered. She didn't want to think about that, though being near the family complex meant she couldn't help herself.
She couldn't help the sick feeling in her gut. Maris felt grateful that she hadn't eaten much for breakfast, or she would have lost it all the moment she came upon the ruins of her old family home. Next to a clear blue mountain lake were piles of darkened rubble and burnt wood, buried under a layer of snow. They formed wet, jagged heaps, a haphazard monument to what was.
Maris could barely discern the shapes of the old buildings from pathetic remnants of walls. She could tell enough, at least, to know where the last vestiges of priestly power would be. These fading bits of power would be necessary if she were to have any chance of making the gods listen to her. Her own non-priestly magic, like all magic, came from the gods, though the average mage had a very indirect connection with the divine. Maris had forfeited her direct divine power when she abandoned her family.
There existed a risk her ordinary magic would interfere with her ability to use her family's home to communicate with the gods. Maris still had to take the risk, and she wasn't about to give up her magic to complete her mission. She would find a way to do her job without sacrificing too much. Sighing, she thought about how she wasn't nearly selfless enough to be part of her family. As sick as the reminders of the past made her, a part of her was glad she had been gone when it all happened.
Stomach sinking even farther, she made her way to the Priestly Circle in the middle of the family complex. The smooth gray stone disc less snow upon it than anything else. This gave Maris hope, as it meant the thing still retained some manner of magic. She placed her things on the ground just outside the stone circle. Taking a deep breath, Maris stepped inside it.
Immediately, she felt a tingle of priestly magic. There was something here. Now, all Maris had t do was access the power despite possessing ordinary magic. She muttered under her breath an old family prayer-incantation. Truthfully, she didn't know if she were even allowed to say the words anymore. The sad fact was, none of her family would be around to punish her if she were breaking their code.
For what seems like hours, Maris muttered the prayer-incantation, shivering all the while. The temperature seemed to become colder and colder, though she couldn't tell if that were the result of standing on the stone disc and attempting contact or simply a result of the weather. Maris soon enough began to worry she wasn't going to get any results at all. While she had felt that tingle of magic, after she started the prayer-incantation, she had felt nothing. Indeed, nothing seemed to be happening. Perhaps her ordinary magic was preventing her success after all.
Just about to give up, Maris felt something, a kind of answer. She kept muttering, not wanting to break the spell in case she were only imagining things. Maris wasn't. The Priestly Circle began to glow a soft white. She tried not to startle, but that was nearly impossible. Still, she kept muttering the words, not wanting to ruin her potential success in this job.
Eventually, the glow simply became too much for her to keep muttering. The light glowed so brightly it burned her eyes. She squeezed them shut and dropped to her knees. Maris couldn't even move off the stone disc; something stuck her to it. Fearing the worst, she prepared to die on the Priestly Circle. Was this truly the end?
It wasn't.
The glow stopped. Everything returned to normal, save for the young man who had materialized before her. Maris, once she got back to her feet, stared at him in disbelief. He was Breccan's height, maybe an inch or so shorter, and rather thin. His skin was somewhat tanned, a bit darker than Egan's. He wore his chestnut brown hair long, down to his mid-back. The man was extraordinarily, inhumanly beautiful, with striking extremely pale violet eyes. They were the kind of eyes no human ever had. This man was one of the gods.
For a long time, Maris couldn't find the words to say. Her summoning had worked. She hadn't, in truth, quite expected a god to materialize just like that. Maris had thought it more likely she would hear the voice of one of them before they bothered to show up. Stranger still, she didn't recognize this particular deity. The strangeness only increased when Maris noticed how he dressed in a rather plain and human-like manner, which was rather unusual for a god, at least for the ones she had met.
“Hello,” she managed, “I'm Maris.”
“Nice to meet you, Maris. I'm Nico.”
Nico? Maris didn't know any gods named Nico.
“I see you got my call,” Maris said. “If you don't mind, I'm having a bit of trouble with a god named Egan.”
Nico murmured, “Egan? Oh, he's completely insufferable, isn't he? Loved to tell me I didn't have the 'proper pride' for my kind. No idea what he was talking about!”
Maris muttered, “He's a bit more than insufferable. Egan lied to my friend Finbar about being a Chosen One, all so he could steal Finbar's lover away from him.”
“That's not very nice of him,” Nico said.
“No, it's not. So can you, I don't know, maybe do something about it?” Maris asked.
“And what do you want me to do?” Nico looked utterly baffled.
Maris raised an eyebrow. “Reprimand him? Punish him? Make him stop being an asshole? Don't you care that one of your fellows is being totally out of line?”
He looked even more confused, somehow. “One of my fellows?”
“Yeah, don't you care that another god is making you all look even worse than usual?” She secretly thought this Nico was a bit on the thickheaded side.
Nico wondered, “Another god? But I'm just an ordinary mortal!”
What? Maris could not have heard that right.
She asked, “Excuse me? Did you just say you were an ordinary mortal?”
He nodded. “But of course. What else would I be?”
Maris stammered, “But - but I summoned you with a prayer-incantation. How can you say you're not a god?”
Nice observed his surroundings. “Oh, is this a Priestly Circle? How odd. I wonder how I got here. You can't have summoned me, as prayer-incantations don't work on mortals.”
His open face held no trace of a lie. Maris was forced to assume he actually believed he was mortal. If that were the case, she had a huge problem on her hands. Not only couldn't Nico do anything about Egan, she was now responsible for him, as she had summoned him. What was she going to do? Maris didn't know, but she knew she had to do something.
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written for writerverse Table of Doom Alpha #9. Location: Mountains & 500themes prompt #45 - "Caress the Darkness, Kiss the Light"