Of the three gods said to preside over the intelligent races, it is the Goddess of Light who stands out as the most visible, the most tangible force in the daily lives of Her followers. Her presence is unmistakable; She empowers Her clerics with Grace to heal, comfort, and perform works in Her name. It’s small wonder, then, that the elves—so enamored as they are with Her divine constancy—find themselves baffled by humanity’s peculiar allegiance to the Protector. For unlike the radiant and ever-present Goddess, the Protector embodies the very essence of absent governance. No flashes of Grace here, no divine interventions – just a handful of scripture and a heavy reliance on human interpretation to muddle through. And yet, what truly complicates matters is the dwarves. Ah, the dwarves and their God of Iron—a deity swathed in secrecy. While the elves debate and the humans theologise, the dwarves do what they do best: close ranks and say nary a word. Try poking at the mystery of the God of Iron, and you’ll find your questions answered swiftly—not with words, but with a fist (or, worse still, a blade). In the end, while the Goddess of Light’s Grace dazzles and the Protector’s stoic silence perplexes, it is the God of Iron who remains the great unknowable force. And perhaps, for the dwarves, that is precisely the point. – Scholar Temin Temi, excerpted from the foreward of “Revolutionary Thinking on the Nature of Divinity.”
KURT
Kurt’s eyes fluttered open. Sharp pains in his back and side mixed with the collection of aches picked up over decades as a soldier, farmer, and adventurer. Pain was good. Pain meant he was alive. Groaning, he looked around. He was on a cot in a large tent. It was dim, but he could pick out the outlines of candelabras and privacy screens. Kurt slowly put together the last few things he could remember. Riding out on the Silk Trader to find out what the Purists were doing with those big towers. One of the Acolytes on the beach. The explosion that threw him into Lisandra Bay. The last thing Kurt could remember was sinking below the water. Whoever plucked him out of the bay bound his ribs and treated his other wounds. His armor, weapons, and clothes were nowhere to be seen. Kurt sat up on the cot. Movement brought more pain and an odd clinking sound. Kurt looked down. His leg was manacled to a heavy iron spike driven into the ground next to his cot.
His legs quivered as he stood up, but he managed to keep his feet under him. Gingerly, Kurt hobbled to the end of his chain – about a yard away from the spike. That was about halfway to the curtain dividing Kurt from the rest of the pavilion. He shuffled back to his cot and sat down. If the Purists rescued him from the sea and treated his wounds, they wanted him alive. Better to rest and get as much of his strength back as possible. It was maybe another ten minutes when two Purist soldiers strode through the curtain. These two had the hard look of veterans. They swept the room with their eyes before taking up posts at the entrance.
“First the son, and now the father,” said a tantalizingly familiar voice. The Edess Kul walked into the room. Her metal mask gleamed in the little light of the tent. Kurt looked at her for a long moment as his mind replayed the words and the voice. It was like a word on the tip of his tongue.
“Rin was here?” Kurt asked, “How did you survive that encounter?”
“The moment I told him about our people inside the Crystal Palace, he couldn’t leave fast enough to go to her side.” Kurt was so shocked to hear the Purists infiltrated the Crystal Palace, he almost missed the venom in the last words. That was the last clue he needed.
“Why do you still hate Rin, Ela?” Kurt asked. He surprised himself with how calm he managed to keep his voice. His mind was still grappling with the sudden realization the woman he thought dead was leading the enemy. Ela chuckled and motioned for the two guards to leave. They hesitated for only the briefest of moments before walking back through the curtain. Ela undid the heavy metal mask. She looked much as she did the last time Kurt saw her, right down to the wild look in her still-living eye.
“Do you know he told me that he thought of me as a sister?” Ela asked, the venom thick in her voice. “What brother does this to his sister?” She motioned at her dead eye. “What brother forces his sister to–” Ela bit off what she was about to say. Kurt didn’t need her to finish the sentence. He knew the moment Ela broke. The moment she was forced to put a shaft into Ral’s back to stop her soulbond from handing the princess back to Cull.
“Ral’s death wasn’t Rin’s fault. Or Illana’s fault. It wasn’t your fault either. The only person to blame for Ral’s death is Ral. He betrayed us. He betrayed you. He made you kill him,” Kurt said. Ela let out a primal scream of frustration.
“It was all of your faults! All of you pushed him to come with us!” Ela screamed, “He told you over and over that he shouldn’t be there, that he should go back to Lisandra, but none of you listened. She was just too precious, and that bastard Jevin manipulated me into joining his precious crusade because he knew Ral would follow me. I don’t even know why I joined.”
“You know why, Ela,” Kurt said, and gave her a sad look. “Because you wanted to save your people. Because you knew only Illana’s return would keep this empire from tearing itself apart.”
“Her!” Ela spat out. “I lost everything because of her!” Ela’s living eye bored into Kurt. For a moment, he was sure Ela was going to lash out. Instead, Ela wrapped her arms around herself and paced. Kurt heard her muttering something under her breath. It sounded like the same phrase over and over again, but he couldn’t make out the words.
Guilt flooded Kurt as he watched Ela. Ral broke her heart with his betrayal, killing him broke her mind, but it was their fault Ela was the Edess Kul. Instead of helping her heal, they locked her away. Oh sure, they were following Selene’s advice, but Selene wasn’t her normal, compassionate self at that time. Their cleric was grappling with her own broken heart from Marteen choosing Sonya over her as well as guilt from not saving Jevin from Ral’s poisoned dagger. None of them knew how to care for Ela, so they talked themselves into believing it would be best if Ela went away.
“Ela, dear, what are you doing in here?” asked a man’s voice. A human walked into the room. Shafford.
“He made me remember!” Ela half-shouted at Shafford, pointing at Kurt. “I don’t want to remember anymore.”
“Do you want me to take it from you again?” Shafford asked.
“It always comes back,” Ela cried into Shafford’s shoulder. “It always comes back.” Shafford stroked Ela’s short hair as he crooned to her. Ela stopped crying as her breathing slowed to a more relaxed pace. Shafford looked at Kurt and the dwarf recoiled from the sheer malice in the man’s eyes.
“Ela, we need you,” Shafford said, handing Ela her mask. “It’s almost time. You need to be ready.” Ela shook herself and then stood up straight. All outward signs of her madness vanished in an instant.
“Of course, my love,” Ela said. She gave Shafford a quick kiss on the cheek before donning her mask and striding out of the room. Shafford stood in the center of the room, regarding Kurt as if he were a particularly disgusting pile of sheep dung.
“When Rin showed up last night, and she didn’t have a breakdown, I thought I finally managed to banish the horror from her mind,” Shafford said. “I’ve worked so hard to mend her mind from what you did to her.” Much to Kurt’s surprise, there was true compassion in Shafford’s voice. Kurt was sure Shafford and the other Acolytes lied and manipulated Ela into becoming the Edess Kul.
“Do you really think you’re helping her by making her forget?” Kurt asked, using the same parental voice he used anytime he caught Rin doing something foolish. Kurt didn’t think Shafford could get any angrier. Kurt braced, but instead the human stood very still. The look of anger left the man’s face.
“Every time the memories break through, it hurts her more. I don’t know how she deals with the agony. Perhaps instead of suppressing it, we should excise the memory, instead.” Shafford’s sudden smile sent chills down Kurt’s spine. Rage turned to delight on the human’s face as Shafford mentally explored the idea.
“That just might work. Once we have the princess in hand, we will let Ela kill the girl. Perhaps, kill all of you as well. Let her cleanse her memory with blood.” As if he forgot about Kurt’s presences, Shafford spun on his heel and strode out of the room.
“Thank the Protector, I thought he would never leave,” came a whisper behind Kurt’s cot. The dwarf leaped out of his cot as a figure rose out of the shadows. The figure stretched before taking a step into the light. Kurt plopped down on the ground in surprise as the dirty face of Major Agnelli emerged. The human looked like he crawled through a muck pile.
“What are you doing here?” Kurt asked, in a low voice.
“Originally, I was just going to see if I could get some information on what trap the Purists were laying for the Capitol Army. Then I heard they captured a Hero of the Empire. I thought it was the sergeant, so I came to take a look,” the major answered, picking up the chain that bound Kurt to the iron spike in the middle of the room.
“How did you find me?”
“I saw them dragging you in,” Agnelli answered, tugging on the chain. “Elves, in my humble opinion, tend to be overly confident. It makes them miss little things. Like noticing someone skulking about their camp. Here’s your belongings, by the way.” Major Agnelli dropped Kurt’s clothing, his ruck, and his sword. He walked over to Kurt and looked at the lock on the manacle.
“We need to get you out of here. Something big is about to start. It sounds like they expect it to win this battle for them.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, but it sounded like it was some kind of magic,” Agnelli answered. The ranger inspected the lock and tugged at it a couple of times. “I might be able to break this lock open with a bit of gunpowder. I hope you’re ready for a very exciting escape.” Kurt grabbed the ranger’s wrist.
“Wait, there’s a quieter way,” Kurt said. He didn’t want to do it. He really didn’t want to do it. The dwarf grabbed the manacle, closed his eyes, and dove deep into his mind. It was a very long time since he walked down this hallway in his mind. Finally, he came to a dingy iron door with streaks of rust. Kurt braced himself and opened it.
The struggle was immediate and violent. It was always a struggle. Kurt hadn’t practiced for this fight since shortly after Rin came into his life. The force refused to be restrained and pushed against him harder. Just as Kurt feared he would lose the struggle, an opening emerged. Kurt grappled and forced the god in his mind into submission. With the struggle won, Kurt demanded his god grant his request. An instant later, the manacle surrounding his ankle melted off and pooled at his feet. Kurt quickly shoved the god back behind the door in his mind. Kurt stepped away from the melted metal as he panted. Struggling with the god always left him exhausted.
“What under the Protector did you just do?” Major Agnelli asked, his eyes wide with shock.
“The God of Iron…agreed…to help…with the…manacle,” Kurt managed between pants.
“Why didn’t you just do that before?” Major Agnelli asked, his tone somewhere between fascination and annoyance.
“The God of Iron…isn’t what one…could call…benevolent,” Kurt said, feeling his strength returning. He took a couple of deep gulps of air. “He’s not like your Protector or the Goddess.”
“Oh. So why did he help you now?” Major Agnelli said, helping Kurt into his clothes.
“Fought him for the favor,” Kurt answered, pulling on his breeches. “Maybe if the dwarves had a nicer god, like you humans, we would’ve had a very different outcome when the elves invaded our lands.” Major Agnelli chuckled at the comment as he held Kurt’s shirt out. Kurt tugged on the cotton shirt and then bent down to pull on his boots.
“Your clerics must be very strong,” Major Agnelli said as he moved up to the door. The human drew a pair of thick-bladed daggers long enough to be short-swords. He held his right dagger normally, but the left was in a reverse grip. It was eerily similar to how Ral used his daggers.
“Dwarves don’t have clerics,” Kurt said, “Wrestle with the God of Iron too much and He’s going to win – and once is all He needs. Then, you’re nothing but a thrall for him.” The human cursed softly.
“Well, Hero Volker, if you’re ready, I think it’s time we left the hospitality of the Purists,” Major Agnelli said.
“How are we going to do that?” Kurt asked. “I’m not like you or Rin. I can’t move quietly.” The ranger poked his head around the curtain, strode past Kurt and looked out from under the edge of the tent.
“I wouldn’t worry too much. The camp’s almost deserted,” Major Agnelli answered.
“We need to hurry,” Kurt said, hefting his sword. “If everyone’s gone to this ritual, then it’s something very bad for our people.”
