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The OP MC 8 Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2021-07-30 13:01:06 +0000 UTCThe kiss lingered and continued to deepen, and I moaned as Zenda’s tongue slipped between my lips, but then a noise behind her desk startled me. We broke away and turned around just in time to see High Priest Zeydon exit his office, but fortunately, we managed to compose ourselves before he looked our way.
“Oh, you are here already, Your Grace,” Zeydon said in a surprised voice as he raised his eyebrows. “I was about to have Zenda summon you to the library, but I see that is not necessary.”
My heart rate slowly returned to normal, and I breathed out a silent sigh of relief. I hadn’t been caught kissing the daughter of the leader of the Zaborial Isles, but I’d come close.
I’d just have to be more careful and discreet as I romanced the blue-skinned beauty.
“Here I am,” I said, but then my brow creased in thought. “Why were you going to summon me?”
High Priest Zeydon considered me for a moment while he stroked his long, braided green beard. Perhaps he was wondering how I didn’t already know the reason he was looking for me, and I held my breath as I waited for his eyes to flick to his daughter, but they remained locked on my face.
“You brought many witnesses to me,” the High Priest said at long last. “I have spent the last two days listening to their accounts of your deeds. They told me of your calm demeanor, and about how you led them safely home.”
“So, you couldn’t find any lies in my statements?” I chuckled. “I would have been shocked if you had.”
I slid on a mock offended expression, but I wasn’t really upset with Zeydon for doubting me. I’d walked into his office with the head of a man he’d never seen before and claimed it was a dead god, so I would have had my doubts if the situation was flipped around.
The High Priest cast his sky blue eyes to the floor as he cleared his throat, and I realized he was slightly embarrassed. His long turquoise robes swept across the floor and covered his feet, but there were vague bulges and shapes beneath that had me wondering just how armed the old man was. I didn’t think he would attack me, by any means, but it never hurt to be overly prepared.
“Forgive my initial skepticism,” Zeydon said in an apologetic tone. “While I had heard claims of your greatness, it is my duty to tell fact from fiction. I control which genre the story is placed in, after all.”
Librarian jokes. How rich.
“All is forgiven, my child,” I said in my most godly voice, and Zeydon’s eyebrow twitched briefly. “I am willing to patiently wait for you to catch up.”
Zeydon eyed me for a long moment, and it was obvious he was struggling to regain control over the conversation, but I pretended not to notice.
“The victims wish to speak with you,” the High Priest said with only a touch of annoyance in his voice.
I wasn’t surprised.
I’d been in this medieval fantasy world long enough to know the drill, and I was swarmed with well-wishers everywhere I went, so I straightened my clothes and lifted my chin proudly.
“I know.” I nodded. “This is one of the reasons I have come to your office today. The people need closure for their experience, and I wish to help them acclimate to their new reality.”
Evangeline’s words came to mind, and I wished I could summon my lady companions to the library to assist me with the crowd that would surely gather. Plus, this would be a perfect opportunity for Sarosh to dip her toes in the waters of being my priestess. If she could convince the Zaborians to follow me above their own religious politicism, then I would truly be able to say I’d mastered the Zaborial Islands upon my return home.
Not that there was anything wrong with High Priest Zeydon or his mysterious order of priests, but the caste system between the religious leaders and the rest of the people bothered me. Maybe the American in me couldn’t stand idly by while people were disenfranchised, but it was like an itch deep in my stomach that would only be calmed by equality of opportunity.
Besides, what else was a god supposed to do other than shake up the regular pattern of existence for the mortals of the realm?
“Much time could have been spared if you’d enlightened me to your knowledge earlier.” The High Priest tried to hide the smile that tugged on his lips by looking away, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid my detection. “I take it, you are ready, then?”
Well played, old man, well played.
“Just wait.” I smirked.
Then I reset back to my save point to show this Zaborian who was the superior being once and for all.
Chime.
I woke up early, and I nudged my beautiful companions awake immediately. Evangeline grumbled as she reached for her pillow, but Caelia started to yawn and stretch right away.
“The High Priest needs us to speak to the victims today,” I explained in an eager tone. “So, I want you both to come to the library with me today.”
This made Eva pop her eyes open with excitement, and I chuckled at my predictable wife.
“Can Sarosh come as well?” Caelia was, as always, thoughtful to the feelings of others. “I’d hate to reschedule our plans for the day, but maybe we can do both things?”
“After we speak to the victims, the three of you can still do your shopping,” I agreed.
“Great,” Eva said as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. The covers slid away to reveal her perfectly shaped breasts, and they rose and fell with her breath.
“Lovely.” I tore my gaze away from my wife’s bosom to smile into her smoky gray eyes.
“Let’s have breakfast first,” Caelia suggested.
We met Sarosh at the breakfast table, and she immediately agreed to our change in plans for the day. It seemed my First Priestess was eager to hear the tales of the victims, but it could just be the urge to stay with the group. Questions sprang to my mind about the silver-haired older woman’s past, but I brushed them aside as I focused on the tasks before me.
Woo Zenda, wow Zeydon, and amaze a crowd of Zaborians.
The life of a god was never dull.
We arrived at the Grand Occulta Athenaeum with the sun steadily rising toward mid-day, but the steps beneath the awning were still cool beneath my feet. I marched past Bertram’s desk, but he knew better than to hinder me in any way at this point, so I led my group of ladies toward the stairs to the upper levels.
Zenda looked beautiful as ever behind her desk, and I strode around it with my eyes locked on hers.
“You can’t be back here--” she started to say, but I cut off her words by placing a finger across her lips.
“I have read all of the books,” I said with a sideways smirk. “I know exactly which questions you will ask me about them, and I can answer them all in order.”
“You speak grandly,” the First Daughter said with one arched eyebrow, and she folded her arms over her chest.
I recited the answer to the first question she asked me in the previous run through, and her eyes widened ever so slightly. Then, before she could even open her mouth to ask, I answered the second question. Behind me, Eva and Caelia giggled knowingly, but Sarosh listened attentively with open amazement.
Zenda slowly reacted more and more until her jaw once more hit the floor, so I wasted no time at all in scooping it up in the crook of my pointer finger before I lifted her lips to mine.
The daughter of the High Priest hesitated for the briefest moment, but then it was like her nerves liquified, and she melted into my embrace.
“Woo!” Eva cheered while Sarosh and Caelia applauded.
The noise would likely alert Zenda’s father, who sat in his office behind the doors only a few paces away from us, so I cut the kiss a little shorter than I would have liked, but I reminded myself I could always do it again if I wanted to.
Next time would be even better, whether it was from a reset or the next stolen moment with the blue-skinned beauty.
“I… I apologize…” Zenda blushed the rosy coral pink hue I already loved so much when we finally parted, and her lips remained slightly open for a moment as she gathered her composure.
“That was lovely. Your lips taste like sweet berries,” I said as I winked at her, and the tinge on her cheeks deepened, but then I cleared my throat and turned toward the doors to her father’s office.
Right on cue, the wooden portal opened, and High Priest Zeydon emerged.
“Greetings, Zeydon,” I said, and I quickly crossed the distance to meet him. “I’m here to speak with the victims who requested an audience with me.”
The High Priest’s sky blue eyes widened to the size of saucers, and his mouth fell open ever so slightly, but it was enough for me to know he was temporarily speechless. Zeydon stared at me in amazement for a long, silent moment, and my grin continued to widen.
“Ready when you are.” I gestured down the hallway. “Lead the way.”
“Y-Yes, yes, of course,” Zeydon stammered as he stroked his beard absently. His eyes showed the internal debate raging in his mind, but he looked at me with a new gleam of faith.
Zenda fell into step beside me as I followed her father down the corridor, and I flashed her a sweet, sideways glance every few steps, which elicited blushes every single time. I was highly enjoying the game, and I barely paid any attention to the direction Zeydon took us in, but I wasn’t worried about getting lost.
My guide was by my side.
The High Priest led us to a large, crowded chamber, and I already recognized several of the faces as we passed through the sea of turquoise and gray robes. A few unfamiliar faces stood out to me, though, and I was eager to get to know every single one of them and their problems.
I considered making a new save point, but I wasn’t ready to give up the chance to relive the kiss with Zenda just yet, so I let time continue onward.
We walked to a dais on the far end of the room beneath a wall-to-wall and ceiling-to-floor stained glass window, and the sheer beauty of it took my breath away. Eva squeezed my hand affectionately, and when I glanced in her direction, the duke’s daughter had tears in her eyes as she gazed up at the masterpiece of color.
I knew enough of the history of the Zaborial Isles by this point to recognize the mentions to Zyne and his immediate successors, but I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the glass for a long moment regardless.
Finally, I looked down and realized Zeydon had provided a throne-like chair for me to sit in, and I sank into it gratefully. The people murmured amongst themselves below us, and from the height of the dais I could easily see over all their heads to the doors we’d just come through.
All two hundred or so people must have been present, and I was in awe at their patience. They’d probably been waiting in this room while the priests cataloged their accounts for the majority of the last two days, but such was the nature of bureaucracy.
“How are we doing this?” I asked Zeydon with a cooly arched eyebrow as my women took up positions behind me and Zenda stood behind her father. “Want me to give a speech, or interview them individually?”
“This depends upon your desires, Your Grace,” the High Priest said.
I imagined the old man bouncing one of those red playground balls back into my square on the concrete, and I smirked.
“I’ll try out a couple of different things and see which I like best.” Then I cracked my knuckles and shook out the muscles in my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
Zeydon looked on in curiosity as I trotted down the stairs of the dais and into the crowd, but I wasn’t worried about his reaction during this run through. Once I mastered the crowd, I’d reset and get one hundred percent completion, and the High Priest would be eating out of the palm of my hand even more than he already was.
Maybe enough to willingly let me take his daughter home with me.
Being a god was a full time job, but I was up for the challenge.
I found Zino first, and I greeted him with a warm clasp of his forearm with mine. The bald priest smiled so wide his eyes crinkled around the edges, but I could hear sounds of disappointment throughout the crowd when I chose to speak to Zino first.
“I will need your help with translating again, my friend,” I said as I wrapped an arm around the priest’s shoulders and carried him forward with me through the crowd.
“Anything you wish for, Great One,” Zino said with obvious eagerness.
The people parted in front of us without any prompting, and the respectful Zaborians naturally created a large empty circle around me. I moved to the back of the room, and then I scanned the crowd for inspiration on where to begin.
Eva, Caelia, Sarosh, and Zenda watched my every move with open curiosity on their faces, but the High Priest held a more unreadable expression on his face.
I decided on the person in the back left corner, and Zino followed me as I crossed the distance to him. The man was older, if the gray eyebrows were any indication, and the long, curly strands rose into his forehead when he realized I was approaching him directly.
“Hello, there,” I said with a friendly smile, and I nodded to Zino. “He’s going to help us talk to each other.”
My companion priest quickly said my words in his native tongue, and the older man’s eyes widened, but then he began to repeatedly bow his head.
“Tell him to stop that,” I told Zino, and the priest complied.
The man stopped the bowing motion, but his eyes were still filled with awe.
I could live with that.
With Zino translating, the man quickly poured out his heart and soul to me, and I nodded attentively as I listened to how he fell into the God of the Purge’s trap. His name was Zutram, and a follower of the Wannabe-Hitler had convinced him to abandon his life in a small fishing village on a nearby island in order to save the world from certain doom. When he’d arrived in Nanau, however, the mind control had kicked in, and Zutram’s memories ended abruptly.
After I spent plenty of time with Zutram, I realized all he really wanted was for me to listen to him and reiterate he was innocent of any wrongdoing. When we were done talking, I directed him to the dais to speak with Sarosh and my women, and he enveloped me in a tight embrace as he muttered something in Zaborian into my ear.
“Thank you for saving me,” Zino translated from behind me.
I heard jealous tsk sounds from people watching, and I cast a stern glance in their direction before I took Zino to the next random person at the back of the room and repeated the process I’d just completed with Zutram. I wanted to be as thorough as possible, which meant speaking with each person individually first.
Then I could reset and enter to give a grand speech that addressed all of their issues and concerns at once.
The God of Time was just efficient like that.
Just when the Z names began to blind into one big snore sound in my head, someone stood apart from the crowd and caught my eye. The person stood with their back to me, but the long silver braid hanging down along their spine stood in stark contrast to the bald and green haired Zaborians that filled the majority of the space. They wore a maroon robe that draped over their form and didn’t give anything away, but my trained eye spotted the outline of a dagger strapped around the waist.
I approached with a cautious attitude, but I didn’t expect any trouble among this particular group of people. They’d been vetted by the High Priest himself, after all, and while he had been skeptical of my powers at first, I didn’t think he disliked me enough to make an attempt on my life.
No matter how things worked out, I needed to know who this person was and what they were doing among the Zaborians.
The silver-haired person turned around, and the masculine features almost caught me off guard given how beautiful his hair was. I’d only ever seen hair of that particular metallic shade once before, and my eyes flicked instinctively to Sarosh. The First Priestess of Bastianville stared with wide gray eyes at the man in front of me, but then she quickly moved down the steps of the dais toward us.
Did she recognize him?
“Who are you?” I asked the silver-haired man before Sarosh could cross the room to us.
“I am called Risthan, Great One,” the man said as he staggered back a step.
“Where are you from?” I pressed as I furrowed my brow with thought.
“He is from my homeland,” Sarosh said from behind me. “Ajarah.”
I turned to face the silver-haired older woman, and I found her lips set into a thin white line as she considered Risthan closely.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“That depends upon this man’s next words,” Sarosh said as she jerked her chin toward Risthan. “It is forbidden to leave the island, to abandon the sacred land, so his reason must be dire.”
“One could question your motivations for abandoning the sacred island as well,” Risthan countered as he visibly bristled at her words. “Why did you leave Arajah?”
“Upon threat of death and doom if I stayed,” Sarosh said immediately, but she swallowed hard as soon as the words escaped her lips.
The man seemed mollified by this, and he bowed his head respectfully. Sarosh lifted her chin and stared down her nose at him, and I could tell she was on the verge of condemning him despite them probably having a similar story of leaving home under dire circumstances.
Still, the whole situation left me with a bunch of unanswered questions, and I was ready to get to the bottom of things.
“Tell me about Arajah,” I commanded in a firm tone, and I took in both Risthan and Sarosh in my gaze.
“To… speak to a foreigner about the sacred lands is forbidden,” Sarosh hesitated. “I apologize for withholding information, Great One, but I am deeply ashamed of my past.”
“There will be time for apologies later,” I said with a wave of my hand. “What’s so sacred about it? Why all the secrecy?”
Risthan and Sarosh exchanged a look, and I resisted the urge to sigh in frustration, but I kept them locked in my gaze until they came to some sort of unspoken agreement.
“The secret to great magic lies buried on the island,” Sarosh said finally, but she cast her voice so low that only the three of us could hear. “Our people have been tasked with guarding it for hundreds of years, since before we began to keep a written history. Our entire culture is built around this obligation, this promise, and to betray it means our souls will be doomed to wander in between life and death for all eternity.”
“Sounds ominous.” I shrugged. “But the two of you left. Why?”
Again, the two Arajians exchanged a look, and I raked a hand through my hair as I waited for them to get over their hesitation.
It was Risthan who spoke next, and his words made my blood run cold.
“There wasn’t much left to protect,” the silver-haired man sighed. “The pirates are the real ones in control of Arajah now. The God of the Purge promised me the power to defeat them from the afterlife… And the temptation was too great.”
His words caused Sarosh to lay a comforting hand upon his forearm, and Risthan flashed her a grateful smile.
“The God of the Purge was powerful,” my priestess allowed, but then her gray eyes turned to me. “But Bash is more so. He defeated my former master and freed you all from his clutches. We can trust in him to save Arajah, too.”
Wait, what?
Did Sarosh just volunteer me for another quest?
Typical.
Still, the pirates had been a thorn in my side ever since I’d set sail from Sorreyal, so I’d have to take care of them sooner or later, but I still wasn’t finished with my current task.
“Thank you, Great One,” Risthan said, and tears welled in his eyes as he took my hand.
Before things got too sidetracked from my original intentions, I decided to reset back to my save point. Now that I knew a little bit more about what was going on, I’d be able to address everything at one time, but I still needed to get to know the rest of the victims.
I had a lot to do.
Chime.
I woke up Caelia, Eva, and Sarosh, and I resisted the urge to tell the silver-haired priestess about the dire situation in her homeland. She would find out at the audience with the victims, and it would be better for her to hear it from the lips of one of her own people. When we were ready for the day, the four of us made our way to the library with the stack of books in tow. We got there a little bit earlier than we had during the previous run through, but that only meant I had more time to kiss Zenda before her father emerged from his office.
My steps were eager as I led the way to the upper floor, and I marched straight up to the blue-skinned goddess sitting behind the desk. Her sapphire eyes widened with shock as I placed the books down and pulled her to her feet, but then I jerked my chin in the direction of the volumes I’d spent several run throughs reading.
“Quiz me,” I said with a decisive nod. “I guarantee I’ll blow your mind.”
“What--” Zenda began, but I cut her off.
“What is the title of the book on the top of the stack,” I said as I pointed. “Language Beginnings for the New Zaborian.”
Zenda’s eyes widened slightly, and then she tried to ask another question, but I quickly finished her sentence for her before answering. Each successive question strengthened her reaction, and I swore it would never get old no matter how many times I went through it.
Finally, the quiz was over, and the beautiful blue-skinned goddess pressed her lips softly against my cheek.
My face burned where we’d made contact, and I closed my eyes as I savored the feeling for a little while longer, but then I cupped her cheeks and claimed her lips for the first time all over again.
Kissing Zenda was like diving into the deepest part of the ocean, and I quickly lost myself in the swirling dance of her tongue. I was more aggressive and demanding this time, and I nibbled on the edges of her lips as I struggled to catch my breath.
We were in our own little bubble, so I barely registered the sound of the wooden doors beginning to open behind us, but then Eva cleared her throat loudly, and we reluctantly pulled away from each other.
Zenda’s sapphire blue eyes were full of passionate fire, but she took a quick breath as she regained her composure, so we were both standing calmly and expectantly when the High Priest emerged from behind the doors.
“Greetings, Zeydon,” I said with a small bow of my head. “We have much to discuss.”
“Oh?” The High Priest’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he took my hand in his and shook it. “I was just coming out to have Zenda send you a summons.”
“Yes, I know.” I nodded. “The victims of the God of the Purge wish to see me, but we have other problems.”
“I am not aware of any other issues occurring in the Zaborial Isles,” Zeydon said as he furrowed his brow in a concerned manner. “What could be more urgent than your current goals?”
“Pirates ruining people’s lives primarily,” I said, and I worked the muscle in my jaw. “Do you mind if we step into your office before going to see the victims?”
I glanced at my companions to see them exchanging a confused look, but all would be explained in due time. For the moment, I needed to see what High Priest Zeydon was willing to do to help out the citizens of Arajah.
“We’ll wait out here and get to know Zenda some more,” Eva said as she flashed me an encouraging smile.
“Thanks.” I grinned back at my beautiful wife before I followed the High Priest back into his office.
Zeydon sat on the front edge of his desk, and the older man clasped his hands in front of his waist as he eyed me expectantly.
“There’s a man among the victims who isn’t from the Zaborial Isles,” I began to explain without preamble. “He and one of my companions come from the island of Arajah, and they need our help.”
“The Zaborial Isles do not interfere with the politics of other kingdoms,” the High Priest said immediately with a shake of his head. “I cannot get involved in the ruling of Arajah.”
“You mean you’re just going to let the pirates have it?” I frowned. “What kind of leader are you?”
“The kind preoccupied with governing his own people,” Zeydon countered. “You may expend your personal energy trampling all over the world fixing other people’s problems, but I cannot afford to do the same. Nanau, and the rest of the Zaborial Isles, remains my highest priority at all times. Nothing can sway me from this.”
I sighed and raked a hand through my hair as I processed his words.
On the one hand, I could probably take care of the situation on my own, but on the other hand, it would have been nice to have some magic wielding priests at my back, too.
No matter. I’d take care of things one way or another.
“Fine,” I said, and I shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t help, but the next time the Zaborial Isles needs help, and I’m on the other side of the ocean, you may find yourself looking to Arajah for aid.”
“We have enough allies as it stands,” Zeydon assured me. “Now, are you prepared to speak with the survivors of Za Isle?”
“Absolutely,” I said, and I followed him back out to Zenda’s desk.
The women were laughing when we approached, and the blue-skinned woman blushed when she met my gaze, but there was still desire in her sapphire eyes.
“Let’s go help some people,” I said as I wrapped my arms around Eva and Caelia’s shoulders.
“Lead the way.” Sarosh nodded in approval.
This time, I didn’t need Zeydon to show me to the audience chamber, and I marched straight in past everyone to the dais. I quickly spotted Risthan among the green-haired and bald Zaborians, but the Arajan stuck out like a sore thumb. I made eye contact with the middle-aged man, and I motioned for him to join me at the front.
Zeydon bristled slightly as the foreigner stepped up the first two tiers of the raised platform, but Risthan paused there, and the High Priest seemed to calm down a little.
“Your Holiness, Your Grace,” Risthan said as he dropped into a low bow.
Sarosh stiffened at my side, and I turned to give her a placating gesture.
“Wait,” I urged. “Let him speak his piece and try to listen without passing judgement. We all have our own reasons for doing things, after all.”
Sarosh nodded silently without taking her gray eyes off the Arajan man, but Eva and Caelia leaned forward with obvious curiosity after our exchange.
Everyone waited anxiously for me to speak, but I let the tension continue to build for a long moment. I’d play around with the timing with each reset, but I really wanted the weight of Arajan’s situation to be felt around the room.
Maybe if everyone clamored for Zeydon to help, then the High Priest wouldn’t have a choice.
It was worth a shot, anyway.
When the silence became almost unbearable, I stepped forward and nodded to Risthan.
“You come bearing ill tidings of Arajan,” I said in an ominous tone, and I heard Sarosh gasp from behind me. “Speak your piece, but just know that secrets are not allowed within my court.”
I flicked my gaze to Sarosh as I said the last words, and she nodded subtly in understanding, but her bottom lip quivered as her eyes filled with concern for her homeland.
Risthan eyed Sarosh suspiciously, and the same judgments passed across his features. It was a tad ridiculous how they each thought less of the other, but they’d both done the same exact thing. Whether it should be considered a crime or not seemed to be a whole other debate.
“Sarosh will not interfere,” I promised as I gestured to my First Priestess, and relief flashed briefly across Risthan’s face.
“The pirates have taken Arajan, if not in face, then in control,” the silver-haired man said in a loud clear voice. “The king is merely a puppet.”
“What would you have us do?” I asked with a cooly arched eyebrow.
“Save Arajan from the pirates,” Risthan pleaded. “As you saved the world from the God of the Purge. If you can kill an immortal deity, then surely you can free us from the Pirate King.”
“Pirate King?” I asked.
“He terrorizes the ocean around the Zaborial Isles,” Zeydon informed me. “They have been growing stronger each year ever since this alleged Pirate King has taken over leadership of their fleets.”
“Sounds like he needs to take on someone his own size,” I murmured as I scratched at the stubble of my jaw.
I was already on a mission to discover secret knowledge, but I couldn’t ignore a cry for help from innocent people. Besides, this was Sarosh’s homeland, and I knew the silver-haired priestess wouldn’t be able to turn her back on Arajah now that she knew it was in trouble.
“You will take on this war?” Risthan asked in a hopeful tone.
“Let me think about it,” I said, and the silver-haired man’s shoulders slumped in defeat, so I gave him a reassuring smile. “I need to make sure no one else needs me here first.”
“Very well.” Risthan bowed his head and melted back into the crowd.
The Zaborians murmured among themselves in their native tongue, but I managed to pick out a couple of words and phrases after all my book studying.
“He offers his hand to Arajah!”
“Truly a Great One!”
“His touch is magic!”
I chuckled at the things people said about me, but I was pleased with their attitude. It would be simple enough for my women to spread the good word about me among them, and then the seeds would sprout up followers for me all over the Zaborial Isles.
I spent the rest of the day spamming respawns until I’d learned to speak fluently enough in the Zaborian language to forgo Zino’s assistance, but I still greeted the blue-skinned priest every run through.
A few people wanted me to bless them in some way, and I obliged even though I knew my touch wasn’t actually magic. If it brought them comfort, then I was more than willing to help. Most of the people in the crowd just wanted to personally thank me for saving their lives, but once I got to know everyone, I was able to weed them out and talk to them all at once.
Finally, I felt ready to give a speech that addressed everyone at once, and I reset back to my save point one more time.
Chime.
I woke up beside my beautiful women, and we all had breakfast with Sarosh, but before we left for the library, I pulled the silver-haired priestess to the side.
I’d let Risthan tell her the previous times, but if I could lessen the blow by telling her myself, then that’s what I wanted to do.
“I have some bad news,” I said with a tight-lipped smile, and Sarosh stiffened. “Arajah is in trouble.”
“What?” Sarosh’s gray eyes bulged. “How did you know about it? Who told you? Where are they?”
“There was a man named Risthan among the survivors when I killed the God of the Purge,” I explained.
I proceeded to catch her up with everything that happened during the previous run throughs, and the color dissipated from her face as she listened. I finished by promising to help her people, but I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to do that just yet.
Like most things, I’d figure it out along the way and then reset to make it as awesome as possible.
“I must speak with this Risthan person,” Sarosh said after I finished. “He has broken the sacred oath.”
“Give him a break, Sarosh,” I sighed. “You broke your oath, too, but you had a good reason to. Risthan tells the same sort of tale, so it comes off as judgemental when you aren’t even willing to give him a chance to explain.”
Sarosh shook her head. “You do not understand.”
“No, you don’t get it,” I said. “You are my priestess, so I expect you to represent my values. Whatever you left in the past has no bearing on our future, or the future of the Bastian church.”
Sarosh considered my words in silence for a long moment before she spoke again, and her gray eyes were hard when they met my gaze once more.
“For you, I will put my beliefs to the side,” the priestess allowed. “But I still reserve the right to speak independently with this Risthan.”
“I’m not asking you to change who you are,” I said as I softened my tone and demeanor. “We need this Risthan to give us the full story, and I don’t think he will talk to me, or to you if you’re being hostile.”
“I understand,” Sarosh sighed, and she flashed me an apologetic smile. “Thank you, Bash.”
“No problem.” I grinned. “Now, let’s go talk to the survivors of Za Isle.”
A short while later, the four of us had made the trek up to the Grand Occulta Athenaeum once more, and I led the way to Zenda’s desk. The beautiful Zaborian historian attempted to quiz me on the books I’d read, and I amazed her once more, but just when she went to kiss me on the cheek, I spun to the side to catch her lips with mine.
The kiss was just as wonderful this time as it had been during every single previous run through, and I didn’t want it to end, but I was also eager to get on with the day.
The God of Time had a speech to give.
Zeydon emerged from his office, and the six of us made our way through the corridors to the audience chamber. I nodded to the Zaborians as I passed through the crowd, but mentally, I was writing my speech. Then I made eye contact with Risthan on my way through the room, and the silver-haired man met my gaze with an unreadable expression. The High Priest took his seat, and the ladies stood in a line behind the chairs, but I didn’t sit down.
I stood on the dais and eyed the crowd calmly for a moment, but then I cleared my throat, and silence fell across the audience chamber.
“The Zaborial Isles were once a thriving trade center, and the islanders were well known for their magical prowess, but there is a shadow hanging over the world these days.” I paused for dramatic effect. “The God of the Purge wasn’t the only one who wished to subjugate your people. The Pirate King is extending his reach further and further with each passing moon cycle. If we do nothing, all islands will meet the same fate as Arajah.”
I stared around at the silent people watching me with rapt fascination, and a few brows were creased with worry, but no one seemed to have anything to say, so I continued.
“Do not cower behind your walls, and do not think you will be safe if you do not join in on this fight.” My eyes were hard as I considered the crowd. “You fell victim to the mind control magic of the God of the Purge, but that doesn’t make you defenseless.”
I heard murmurs of disagreement, but I ignored them. The Zaborians would learn soon enough that I always came out victorious.
“I defeated the God of the Purge,” I said in a loud clear voice. “And I can free the Zaborial Isles from the pirate scourge, too! I am the God of Time, and with a little help from my friends, I promise to save you all!”
The silence was so thick, I could have heard a button fall from across the room. I wondered how much they understood my speech since I’d spoken in the common tongue, but then a massive cry of approval swept through the crowd. The noise was all the more deafening compared to the previous silence, and my eyebrows rose in surprise at the strength of it.
The Zaborians were ready to be freed from the pirate’s shadow.
And the God of Time was just the man for the clean-up job.
