Hlaeth Chapter 51 – A Bard Doth Arrive

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“Ten paces a day.” With a quiet rumble, the Pyramid began to drift forward, and everyone slowly stepped ahead of its slow advance, until it stopped once more. “The radius of its Domain will increase slowly and steadily. As it does, the rate of consumption of the Yellow will also increase.” I wasn’t going to compromise the integrity of its Domain by doing so any faster, making sure the Domain stayed as hard and formidable as it was now with every expansion.

In three months, double the current radius, eight times the current consumption. The Pyramid could sustain a three-mile Domain against the Yellow, which would be twenty-seven times the current consumption and likely more than the rest of any efforts combined.

Of course, I’d have to be here for six months for that to happen, which would be annoying. One of the reasons I bopped off down South was simply to hasten this process, of course. Killing a lot of Yellow creatures like I had was worth way more than even a couple days of the Domain at work… although the Domain didn’t require any further effort on my part, other than moving the Pyramid forward every day.

Well, it was what it was. I was going to crack a planetary ban sitting in place for centuries, put there by the gods themselves. It not being resolved overnight was par for the course.

“It will be a good thing to greet the dawn with, sir!” Hano exclaimed cheerfully, the big ogryn magi smiling widely. After over a month of combat, it was actually a really good confirmation that what I said was actually working. Belief, rewarded!

The dwarves were especially energized by this. They’d been quite patient about it, what with the threat to the Ward they had to do something, and me being a Truthspeaker, they could finally rouse themselves to fight back. Still, seeing it actually working was a validation they sorely needed, a break in their siege mentality.

Now, they were truly fighting back!

Others were starting to awaken, ready to eat and get ready for the fighting of the day. The news that the Ward had advanced would spread quickly, help out morale, and let them know what they were doing really worked.

Waves upon the shore, being beaten back one at a time, and draining down with each and every wave.

The Yellow was just a very tall and broad sea, and there was a lot to drain. Good thing my drain was two miles wide and now growing, growing, ever so slowly and implacably…

-------

“May I help you?”

Humans weren’t exactly common in the fighting area. It wasn’t that they didn’t love to fight, but I wasn’t encouraging them in the slightest, while I was encouraging the Children, and supporting them directly.

I’d been accused of being a race traitor by some of the disgruntled warriors who weren’t getting the help from me that the Children did. Now, those who got along with the Children were learning about One a Day, but I still wasn’t giving them spell support, I wasn’t giving them Marks, and I certainly wasn’t giving them money.

The dwarves were willing to feed them and repair their weapons and armor, but teamwork and spell support came from one another, as applicable… which meant no Healing Reserve, Cure spells cast for money or not at all in many cases, exclusive teams only looking after one another, less cooperation, etc.

Those who had Good Auras generally managed to find a group of Children they could work with and sponge off of, but they didn’t have the staying power with me up above providing free Healing in emergencies, or emergency obliteration of something that was dangerous or surprising.

As a direct result, they were not improving anywhere near as fast. None of them seemed to have made the cognitive leap that working together would yield much, much better results, and Healing Reserve required the unstinting and generous Casting of Cures on others, not hoarding and dickering over them.

Which was totally fine with me. I was here to satisfy the Prophecy that had Named me (which I could totally ignore, but responsible person here), and that meant making the Children something that could stand on their own two feet and didn’t need to knuckle under to their forebears. They’d never have the numbers to compete with humanity, but quality? Quality they could do.

I was totally aware that I was far, far more powerful than any of them, and I was human. The point was not lost on them, but there was also the simple fact that they could rise to rival me in power, and I was happily encouraging them to do so.

None of them had dared to grasp Mortus Dius yet, I wouldn’t let anyone but a Ten with reinforced willpower do so at this point. Naturally, there was a contest among them to be the first to be worthy of grasping the Master’s Staff and seeing what-all I had fought.

I was now being approached by a human Bard.

Bards were the ancient order of Heartsong-wielders, with strong ties to Druidism and the elites of the lands they dwelled in, while also being respected by the common folk as musicians, tale-tellers, and keepers of histories and laws. They dealt with high people and low, were welcomed even in the courts of their enemies, and acted as couriers, representatives, ambassadors, spymasters, and historians of various levels, as their inclinations led them.

Druids weren’t as affected by the hardened Veil here as pure Clerics were, meaning that they’d regained much of their lost influence during the past centuries, keeping access to the powerful magicks which the major religions had lost. Naturally they’d let this go to their head, insulting the gods who’d retreated from men and birthing radicals happy to strike down those who’d pushed back their circles and influence for so many centuries.

That meant this Master Bard had kept most of his magical ability, and if he’d stayed true to the Tradition, also had fighting and thiefly skills finally honed and usable. He was medium height, in fit shape, brown-haired and going gray at the temples, neatly bearded, and well-maintained in his leathers and weapons both, looking composed, professional, and distinguished.

That didn’t make him my equal, as he was a Ten, and I was much, much higher than that.

“Master Aelryinth,” he stated, sweeping into a formal and precise bow to acknowledge my superior status and power. He’d put time and effort into his manners, and I acknowledged them with a lesser bow of my own. “I am Cedrik Pursyr, a Master of the Doss College. May I have a moment of your time, sir?” he asked respectfully.

He was leading one of the human warbands out there, supporting them with Healing magic, Heartsong Buffing, and careful teamwork and leadership directing them in careful elimination of targets. They’d endured about half the day before having to retire, out of Soak and spells and not willing to rely on their Health to keep them alive in the face of some of the things they were fighting.

“A better performance on the field than many of your peers, Bard Pursyr,” I congratulated him, earning a flicker of satisfaction from him as his rank and accomplishments were both noticed and acknowledged. “Your standing and skill are also considerably higher than most of them. Come you here on your own merits, or as the voice of another?” I inquired of him politely.

“Both, great sir,” he answered simply. Perhaps he actually believed enough of the tales being bandied about me to realize that being obsequious and sly wasn’t going to hold any weight with me.

“I have questions, a tale, and answers, if you’ve questions of your own, sir.” I inclined my head slightly to his words. Reassured, he went on, “It is said that you are a servant of Heaven, sir?”

“The Warlock Tradition which I follow does not seem to be represented here, but that is absolutely true, Master Pursyr. I am Heavenbound by Pact,” I confirmed.

“Does that mean you are a servant of the gods, great sir?” he asked carefully, digesting that fact and wondering how to treat it.

“I am both a Hierophant-ranked Druid of the Four Seasons and an Archpriest of the Three Courts of Heaven,” I replied easily, at which his eyes almost popped out. “If you are wondering which side I’m on, I’m wondering why there are sides at all, and when the children will grow up and work together like adults.”

His jaw worked for a moment in total astonishment. “I was not even aware such a thing was possible, Master Aelryinth,” he murmured softly. A Cleric-Druid? Wasn’t that, like, self-contradictory?

“Combined with a Warlock Pact? It could easily be said I’m serving three sets of masters, but there are no elements within what I follow that are opposed, and most of them dovetail rather well. If I’m rather more benevolent and less harsh than most Druids seem to believe is required of them, well, they are welcome to butt heads with me and learn something about why I am so restrained.

“If you are here to inform me that there are Druids opposed to me destroying the Yellow, Master Pursyr, I will consider them blasphemers and traitors to the Land, Creation, and everything under Heaven, and it will probably be time for me to go hunting,” I added cheerfully.

Heartsong tweaked my words with Truth, and he shuddered from head to toe as suddenly the sun above us all seemed to be looking at things he didn’t want it to see.

“You doubtless understand why the return of the gods could understandably worry those who have profited by their absence,” he managed to utter.

“Yes. On the other hand, the clear decay of moral fiber because of the lack of those who aspire to higher codes since the withdrawal of the Divine from here is also incredibly obvious. You probably want to keep this quiet for your own survival, but from my very well-informed perspective, the ones who have to worry most about the return of the gods are those who are trotting the halls of their Churches now, because a great number of them are going to find out they aren’t followers of their gods, after all,” I said pleasantly. “Tales of the self-serving priests of the local sun god in particular, compared to the history and dogma of said god, lead me to believe that a great number of His faithful priests are going to burn for heresy and hypocrisy when the gods return.

“Your Druidic faiths will have time to retrench and work out how to deal with the gods, but as they live because of the gods, they had better not have any ideas about making war, calling them interlopers, and whatnot.”

He blinked. “Can you state your position on that more clearly?” he asked cautiously. “The tales being told by the… Children are somewhat unclear,” he confessed.

“Certainly. The gods did not abandon you. Gods of Heaven in particular do NOT do that. Furthermore, it is literally no effort at all to leave behind an Avatar or something to inform mortals as to what is going on.

“No, the Veil is a cage, Master Pursyr. Mortals did something very, very stupid, starting somewhere to the south, in the Empire that is no longer there.” I watched him slowly mouth the word ‘Houme’, and just nodded. “Whatever it was, it was dangerous enough that it could have easily provoked divine intervention to stop it, something that threatened the whole world.

“Alas, I believe there were instant disagreements between callous powers that would happily watch mortals reap what they sowed, demanding a price to intervene that likely would have been even more horrible for us in the long term, along the lines of conduits of faith being severed for centuries, sacrificing nations of worshipers, and so damning the world to fall into Evil’s shadow and doom millions or billions over time, all for the low, low price for saving your lives.

“Instead, the Good powers cut off everyone, and did so in a way to limit the power and influence of what was happening, slowing it down and giving mortals time to adjust, build, adapt, and potentially overcome what is happening here. Instead of the servants of Heaven being penalized for saving you, all the gods were cut off so that you could save yourselves without interference.”

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