It was hard to think. Aexilica’s mind felt foggy, slow. Her own panic was strangling her thoughts. It felt like all the pathways in her brain were being filled up with straw. It felt like the whole thing was going to burn down.
And Emma did not help.
“So these Sculds,” She prattled on, practically skipping now that they were going downhill and seeming to have had her own mood raise exactly as much as Aexilica’s had fallen, “They’re dangerous right? Like ancestral enemies or something?”
“Yes.” Aexilica snapped, more to shut the girl up than anything. She shouldn’t have been impatient, she’d known from the beginning Emma was…Touched in the head. But the situation was grating on her.
“What makes them your enemies?” She pressed. Aexilica glared back at her.
“I don’t know, they attack us a lot. For no reason.”
Emma arched an eyebrow. “For no reason?”
“Yes.” Aexilica frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” The girl hastily replied. “Just, well…Come on. No reason? This’ll be your history books claiming that, right?”
It was, at that. Aexilica thought she saw where Emma was going, felt her face burn.
“You saw just how friendly they are yourself.” She retorted. Again, Emma’s brow was taunting her.
“I saw what you described as logical behaviour from people on a scouting mission, right?”
She was…Less wrong than Aexilica had thought at first.
“What do you actually know about them?” Emma added. “Beyond just, you know, them being weak enough to justify a sense of superiority and strong enough to necessitate violence against them.”
“They have their own Gods.” Aexilica elaborated, not liking the girl’s tone one bit. “Vicious, twisted things called the Voryg. Their pantheon is led by Olgrun The Seer, a great knower of magics who gouged out one of his own eyes in order to gain the knowledge of the world, then cut out his tongue to keep it from reaching any ears but his own. Their-”
“Oh they’re vikings.” Emma cut in, grinning now. “Awesome. Vikings, I should’ve guessed from the axes and ringmail. This is gonna be great. Tons of big, sweaty six-foot viking women covered in muscle and…”
Aexilica filtered her words out as the girl continued rambling.
When Aexilica had suggested telling the Priest, she’d done so in a panic. That panic, like any panic, could get her killed. But not if she was careful, not if she checked herself. She went over the situation, considered it. There weren’t all that many options available to her, sadly. But then where were there ever? It was only her constant service of killing the local nasties that kept her off the altar.
If the Priest was told about what she’d seen, he probably wouldn’t believe her. If she dragged one of the corpses back, he still wouldn’t. It wasn’t that she was a woman…Well, actually, yes, it was exactly that. But it was compounded by the fact that Old Cinta was simply not prone to doing anything in the slightest, and tended to choose his beliefs based on which ones justified that.
Anger flashed through her for a second, at that. There were people in Tepetlmoseua that Aexilica liked. People who were decent to her. Okay, not many. Not more than a few even, but there were children too. And even ignoring that, the rest of them didn’t deserve to die just because they were pricks.
What would you do, dad?
There was a useless question. He’d not been able to tell her that for a decade, and somehow Aexilica didn’t imagine his lessons would be so applicable now.
She couldn’t help Tepetlmoseua. That realisation knocked the strength out of her, but it also freed her to consider things from another, more purely practical angle. Aexilica hated that, loathed the taste of callous pragmatism on her tongue. She stomached it anyway. No choice in that, either.
If Aexilica told Cinta what he needed telling, she would be ignored. Okay. But she would be remembered, too. No matter what, it would be known that she had brought the words he needed bringing.
There were potential dangers there. Powerful men were not always grateful for aid, if Cinta decided Aexilica had made him look stupid then it wouldn’t matter what regard she was held in by the town. He had the power in Tepetlmoseua, not its people. And yet…Cinta had never been an insecure creature, as far as Priests went. Aexilica suspected he would not consider himself slighted.
Which meant that she could make herself very popular indeed, if she was the messenger.
Aexilica had just settled herself into the decision when she heard Emma’s voice ringing out again.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Wait so if Gods are real, does that mean Demigods are a thing too?”
Ah, yes, Aexilica had forgotten about…This. Emma’s insistence on feigning ignorance about everything. Or, she was beginning to suspect, some kind of brain damage that left her genuinely unsure of the most basic things. A wave of pity touched her thoughts at that as she imagined what it must be like to try and live in the girl’s shoes.
Then again, she seemed rather happy at the moment. Not to mention that Emma was in Aexilica’s shoes. Though most didn’t take enough pity on a lunatic to hand over clothing.
“Hello?” Emma prodded.
“Yes.” Aexilica hurriedly replied, she’d gotten distracted. “Yes, they do exist. They…Uh, don’t ask about Demigods.”
The girl frowned.
“Why not?”
Aexilica looked around, reflexively. It was silly, she knew. A superstition almost. But she did it. Everyone she’d ever met did it, when the Gods’ children were up for discussion.
“Because they’re insane.” She half-whispered. “Powerful enough that they can do whatever they want to us, weak enough that they feel inclined to out of some frustration for being beneath their fully-divine parents. That’s what my father thought at least. I’ve never met a Demigod, but he’d met several. Pray you never do.”
Emma thought about that, nodded. Then, promptly, continued grinning as if she hadn’t heard a word of it.
“So the Irethani have Demigods? They’re in Aethiq?”
“Yes.” Aexilica told her, forcing herself to be patient. It wasn’t Emma’s fault she was like this. Someone had obviously just dropped her on her head as a baby, or tried to drown her and stopped halfway through, or gotten punched in the stomach a lot before giving birth. It wasn’t Emma’s fault. “But you won’t find any near Tepetlmoseua, thankfully. They tend to congregate in the larger cities, some are given roles in the major temples while others serve as extremely high-ranked Iclatyl.”
“Ah, so they’re your champions then.” The girl nodded. “Your elites.”
“No.” She corrected her. “That would be the Hearteaters, Demigods are too rare to have any widespread, formalised role. Mostly they just show up, very inconsistently, and then win whatever battle they get tangled up in for whichever side they’re on. Unless the enemy has Demigods too.”
Now there was a thought. Aexilica almost imagined that would be worse than only their enemy having one. At least then it would all be over fast. The devastation of a protracted bout between divinities, if small ones…She shivered, despite the heat.
Tepetlmoseua greeted them with a sour mood on its air, as if the town itself already knew what news Aexilica brought and had darkened the atmosphere in preparation. If a grim aura truly did waft around the place, Emma cut right through it with her typically invincible positivity.
“I’m gonna get sooooo many bitches after this war.” She grinned. “Just watch, if you think the stuff I did back there was cool you haven’t seen anything.”
Aexilica couldn’t help herself. Despite knowing what the poor idiot was like, she retorted.
“You almost died.” She frowned.
“I got jumped by a fucking viking!” Emma snapped. “Point is, I’ll be ready for the next one. My powers are versatile, I just need to think of a good counter.”
That much, Aexilica had to admit, may be true. Emma’s magic was unlike any other kind she’d seen before. The girl seemed to be making it up as she went along, even. It was working so far in any case.
Ahead, Tepetlmoseua’s temple alone seemed immune to the darker air everywhere. Aexilica, were she some kind of poet or philosopher, might have made something of that. She had a real job though, to her it was just another fact to be dully considered and put aside while she focused on the important things. Up the steps, with Emma unfortunately brought along as corroborating eyes, she was halted before entering by one of the men at the door.
One of the Hearteaters. Unusual, that. Typically guarding the outside was left to lowlier men, oftentimes not even among the Iclatyl themselves. Clearly this one had done something to warrant a punishment. Not good, it meant he was probably in a bad mood.
“What do you want?” He grunted, aggression clear enough in his tone. Aexilica weathered it, let him see it cow her, then continued mildly. Hopefully that would flatten out his ego somewhat.
“I have news for the Priest.” She explained. “Urgent news, he’ll want to hear it.”
“It’s not for you to tell me what the Priest will and won’t want.” The Hearteater growled, looking for a conflict and finding one quickly. “I’ll pass on word that you’ve requested an audience, you’ll get one when you get one.”
That wasn’t good enough, Aexilica knew she might be waiting weeks or months through that avenue. She needed to change tactics.
“Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you.” She sighed. “But I need to call this in, it is important and the Priest has to be the one who hears it. I’ll be on the shit-list if he doesn’t, and you might join me on it. But when this turns out to be worth his time…”
It was pure horseshit of course, Aexilica doubted even she’d be remembered by the Priest let alone a single Hearteater who did no more than let her inside. But fortunately, warriors weren’t selected for their brains. After a sluggish deliberation, the man let them pass.
The temple’s interior was cool, especially after Aexilica’s time in the baking sun. It was always cool though. Only little things like people’s homes, were allowed to cook their inhabitants in Aethiq. Moving through, she quickly found Preist Cinta seated and awaiting her. She knelt as she entered, and heard Emma mimic the gesture behind her.
Good, if he was offended at her bypassing the usual means of finding an audience then every scrap of deference she showed would be vital.
“Honoured one.” Aexilica announced. “I apologise for interrupting you, but I have news of the utmost importance.”
Cinta did not bid her to stand. Aexilica waited in silence for him to speak, then continued as he didn’t.
“Myself and the newcomer, Emma, were hunting down that pack of muki sighted off by the Western mountains, and we discovered something. A squad of Sculd scouts, ones who attacked us on sight. We believe that they are here to scan the terrain and gather information before a larger assault. Perhaps a mass raid, or even an invasion.”
More silence. Aexilica didn’t chance looking up, just waited. Eventually, finally, Cinta responded.
“And you have proof of this?” He challenged.
“Their armour and behaviour.” Aexilica replied, wincing. She wasn’t surprised at all by his response.
“Weapons and armour.” Cinta echoed, as if she had said something in any way unreasonable. He did not, Aexilica note, repeat the mention of their behaviour. “I appreciate you for your…Enthusiasm, citizen, but I am afraid I cannot take this to the rest of the Priestdom at your word alone. Not with evidence like this. One must not bother one’s superiors over nothing.”
The way he stressed that made it abundantly clear what his implication was, and she winced.
“I understand.” Aexilica replied, fighting a tremble. Probably it looked like she was scared. Good. Anger would have gotten a far worse response.