One (The Godslayer Cycle Book 1) (11 page)

This day, Imery had come upon a curious part of the Field.  Centuries ago, ten blooms had sprouted in this spot and throughout that entire time, the flowers had remained within their buds.  The flowers would most likely resemble bright roses when they did finally blossom, yet what these flowers had actually represented had ever been a mystery to all the Gods of the New Order.  The knowledge each bud concealed was undiscovered, even by the Gods themselves.  Rare were such things upon the Field, and usually ended up representing some divine scheme when finally revealed, for only divine knowledge could be denied to another God.

In spite of mortals' beliefs that Gods were of infinite patience, the truth of the matter was that Gods were as children, fit to burst when they had a secret none others possessed.  None had ever been able to keep their plots secret for long, as in the end, they wanted the adoration associated with revealing their plots.  These buds defied that – and not one bud, but ten! No hidden knowledge had ever remained hidden as long as these.

Hidden, that is, until now.

No other flowers sprung amidst this host here, not even the darker flowers that might have answered why these Truths had remained hidden for so long.  No lies had been told to hide them.  The knowledge existed within the mortal realm, or the flowers would not exist here.  Even if it simply represented a God moving through the mortal realm, such knowledge would manifest in the Field.  Yet though the knowledge was there, it had lain hidden all this time.

Now though Imery cast her eyes upon the first change ever to be witnessed of these strange flowers.  On the outer edge of the cluster, one of the dark green bud casings had cracked, revealing the first lavender leaf of the flower within.  Though the heart of knowledge was still concealed, this was a sign that someone somewhere had discovered the first secrets of this knowledge.  Somewhere within the mortal realm, this Truth was awakening.

Still though the knowledge was denied to her, even the portion that had been already discovered.  As inconceivable as it was, a mortal had glimpsed what the divine could not.  Even stooping to look upon the sheathed bloom carefully wielded little save its scent...

Sharply, Imery stood.  She knew that smell, though it had become less and less common over time.  And even when it did appear in today's age, it was weaker, diluted.  That... 
odor
had lost its potency in the mortal realm long ago, barely surviving to linger as a passing wisp occasionally amongst the more powerful scents in the Field.

Here it was though, strong and potent.  And unmistakable.  The bloom reeked of the Old Gods' magic!

This alone was a powerful Truth.  The Old Gods were behind this cluster of knowledge just now blooming in the mortal realm.  That these buds had been here centuries suggested it was an old plot just now coming to fruition.

But what could it be?  The Old Gods' influence had declined considerably within the last several mortal generations, almost a dead religion.  How much power could there be in an age-old machination?  Certainly not enough to threaten the New Order's domination!  No matter what they were about, no matter the foundation laid so long ago, the magic to move this plot along would still be subject to the limitations of the Old Gods' current power, which was minimal.  They simply lacked a great enough following of devoted.  Without such, no member of that dying Pantheon could muster enough power to affect what the New Order now possessed.

Still...  One thing about this troubled her: If the Old Gods had waned, where could the power to conceal this knowledge be coming from?

On a whim, Imery cast her eyes over the Field, searching for some other sign of the Old Gods' magic.  There was enough of it scattered about to make the search all but fruitless.  None was as strong or as focused as what lay in the cluster of ten, though.  This area of the Field was unique in that respect.

Then, as she began to pull her senses back to herself, a dim awareness caught her attention.  Not from without though where she had been seeking, but from
within
.  Something in
herself
echoed the feel of the Old Gods' magic!  How could Imery herself be so tainted?

Instantly, she set her awareness to the deed of seeking out this taint within her essence.  However, before she actually delved deep into herself, she allowed herself a moment of apprehension for what the discovery could entail.  The potential import of the rise of Old God magic, not just in the Field but now within herself was staggering.  Yet she would by necessity have to seek out the Truth of this in order to learn from whence the root of the infection sprung.

As her search began, she quickly determined that it was not her physical form that was inflicted, as much as her divine form or forms could be considered physical, but within the body of her faithful instead.  Specifically, within the body of
one
of her faithful!  And that faithful was in communion even now, her taint flowing into the Goddess' very essence!

Imery's first reaction was to smite the unfaithful who dared to serve the Old Gods while swearing fealty to her.  And a priest, as well, for only a priest could enter such a rapport as this with the Goddess.  How long had this disease infected her while she was unaware that she had been so defiled?  Twice in the day now she had endured the Old Gods' taint, and she could not now abide it within one who had been sworn to her service!

It was the thought of her other manifestations that stayed her hand.  It was indeed odd enough for either, but for
both
within a span of moments?  The flower of knowledge was denied her, and if she smote the traitor from her flock, she would be denied the source of that corruption, as well – especially if this errant priest had indeed cast his lot with the Old Gods, for her soul would even be beyond their ability to retrieve.  And the two circumstances
must
be related...

* * *

“...Guide me, walk beside me and forever bless me, Oh, Imery,” continued Brea, “as I seek from you that which I need to lighten my path through this darkness that has consumed my soul.”

Brea smirked self-consciously.  “Nay.  I cannot in truth call it darkness, for though it blinds me, it is more from its brilliance that from anything else.  I have never known such a passion, Oh, Goddess, as I feel for this man, Goodsmith.  And though you have given unto me the strength and means to conquer him, I fear that I have become myself too weak to meet the challenge.  I have failed you, my Goddess, yet I humbly implore you for your favor.  Grant me the strength that I may look away from this temptation that tortures my soul, that I might better serve you and only you.  Help me, Oh, Imery, I beg of thee...”

“If it is help thou require, my priestess,” came a voice rich in its own power, “then rise to answer the will of thine Goddess.”

Brea's voice caught in her throat, a half formed syllable partially uttered, forgotten even before the air forming it had completely escaped.  Sweat formed on her brow and she shivered.  She feared to open her eyes while at the same time feared not to.

Momentary doubt filled her mind.  She needed quickly to decide on whether to take the words to heart for what they suggested or to stand and denounce some fool intending to mock her at her lowest point.  Gods did not routinely appear during prayer, no matter how pious the worshiper.  So more than common sense would have justified her doubt.  But even as she thought this, she knew this was wrong.  Perhaps it was her affinity for her Goddess from years of devotion or perhaps it was just fear of the consequences if she wrongly mocked a God.  Whatever the reason, by the time she raised her eyes, Lady Brea knew she would be setting eyes upon the Goddess Imery herself.

Timidly, Brea raised herself from prayer, trying to stand as instructed while still trying to show devout reverence for her deity.  She had never been taught how to hold herself in the actual presence of a God, except of course in the form of prayer, which was thought of as being in the presence of the divine, even when it was more symbolic than actual.  She settled on a stooped shoulder stance, head bowed, eyes closed.  She could not bring herself to face Imery as an equal.

“Would you pay homage to me in timidity, Lady Brea?” asked the divine voice.

Brea tentatively turned her head and squinted from below her still-bowed brow.  “I – I would show you reverence, My Goddess,” Brea managed.  “Only I do not know the form to show it...”

Imery walked forward and took Brea by the shoulders.  “You do know, for it is in my word.  How must you ever face the Truth?”

“
B-boldly, with face forward and shoulders square,” Brea recited from rote.  “Lest Truth think you afraid and unworthy to know it.”

Imery nodded.  “Aye.  And what is my name?”

“Imery,” Brea responded before thinking of what had been her Goddess' meaning.  “Truth.  Your name is Truth.”  The very lines of the prayer she had uttered herself only minutes before...

“
So how must you face me then?”

Brea clenched her jaw for fortitude and raised herself in the ascribed way.  “Boldly, with face forward and shoulders square!  Lest you think me afraid and unworthy to know you!”  A warmth suffused her body as she accepted the true meaning of her prayers.

Imery released her hold and stepped back, not loosing the gaze she held with her priestess.  “And are you worthy, Lady Brea?”

Brea began to answer in the positive, then remembered her words in prayer.  “In truth,” she managed weakly, “I am uncertain.  I am overcome, My Goddess.  I do not know my own heart any longer...”

Imery smiled, though no warmth reflected in her eyes.  “Because you have become smitten with a man?  Is your faith in me so easily challenged?”

“
No!”  Brea started.  “I- it's not like that, at all!  I have been your devoted servant for many years, Oh, Imery, and in that time, I have never surrendered my heart, following your dictate that I keep love for you alone in my heart!

“
But there is something in this Nathaniel Goodsmith that has broken me!  Aye, I
am
broken!  And he betrothed and with children!  I should be able to set thoughts of such a one aside, and yet I cannot!  He consumes me, Oh, Imery!  And he knows it not at all, for he did not return my interest, devoted as he is to his wife and offspring...”

“
He is only a man...” began Imery.

“
No!” interrupted Brea without considering the implications.  She did not notice the coals simmering below the surface of her Goddess' eyes before stumbling on, either.  “I mean, yes, he
is
only a man, yet to me, he is so much
more
.  I cannot explain it...  I...”  Brea's mind finally caught up to her actions as she suddenly realized that she had interrupted Imery, and her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wild with fright.

“
Be at ease, child,” cooed Imery.  Her tone beguiled the simmer she actually felt at the slight.  “You are distraught and unaccustomed to speaking with a God.  Well are you to remember your own proper place.  Boldness does not justify disrespect, after all.”

“
Forgive me,” muttered Brea.

“
Already done,” spoke the Goddess evenly.  “Yet another matter, and the true reason for my coming, is not so easily set aside.”  Imery's voice now dripped with the menace she had until now concealed.  “It is no wonder your faith is so easily unsettled when your love for me is corrupted under the taint of your faith in others.”

Brea was startled, uncertain what had prompted this change.  “O- others, Goddess?”

“You are smothered in the taint of the Old Gods, Lady Brea.”  The Goddess' smile was now one of wickedness.  “Were you truly so brazen that you thought you could hide such treachery?  That you could make such a pact without my learning of it?  A priestess of my fold taken to collaboration with the old ways is not something I nor any of the New Order would sanction, as you should well know.  Did they lure you with promises of protection, convince you they could mask your duplicity from me?  Speak!  Answer me!  Your Goddess demands it!”

“
I- I do not know what to say,” stammered Brea.

“
Do not expect to foster delay while you await salvation, stripling!”  Imery had raised herself in ire now and her sheer presence beat down upon her hapless servant.  “You summoned me, Lady Brea.  You invoked my name and you are subject to my power until I release you!  Even if the whole of the Old Pantheon itself appeared, they would not possess the might to stop me, even if they were prepared to breech covenant further by interfering in the practice of another God!  They have grown weak, fool.  You have fallen in with powerless beings and they shall leave you to face my wrath unaided!”

By now, Brea had been buffeted to where she could scarcely kneel.  “My – my Goddess!  Please!” she begged.

Imery withdrew her presence and the force it exerted upon Brea slackened.  In spite of this, the priestess remained shivering upon the floor.  “Confess your transgressions, child,” the Goddess said softly.  “There is still a chance of redemption for your soul if you speak now and renounce the false Gods!  If I must take your soul in charge to Mastif's realm, you will instead be one of the damned.”