GODSWAR: The Spear of Athena, Chapters 21 and 22

Couldn't post on Friday and the weekend was busy, so here, two for one! Raiagamor's getting ready for the new arrivals he expects, and our friends are busy learning from THEIR new friends!

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Chapter 21.

He divested himself of the constricting ceremonial armor with a sigh of pleasure. Of all the minor annoyances of pretending to be the General, Ares Incarnate, it was perhaps that armor that was the worst. Not only was it an impediment to the flowing free movement he preferred, it also incorporated, rather unavoidably, a significant percentage of silver in its ornamentation.

That didn't hurt him, precisely, but it did make it uncomfortable – rather, he thought from various conversations, in the same manner as wearing underwear soaked in seawater and sand as it slowly dried. Silver alone would never kill him, but it would always be at the least an irritant and distraction to any descended of the King.

And he'd had to be the fine, dynamic, courageous General-Ares for several days, spreading encouragement and advice throughout the cities they had captured… and leaving subtly different influences in each one. The vise had to be tightened carefully, so that in the end the people would welcome, or at the least not fight, the forging of Aegeia into a nation of warfare, blood, and glory, a nation that would naturally, once the Seal dropped, be ready for a mighty destiny of conquest and rulership.

With a Chaoswar imminent – already underway, in fact – and events already weakening the previously invincible State of the Dragon King and Empire of the Mountain, vast opportunities awaited those who could seize the initiative. The whispered hints, the implications, the suggestions dropped in the proper ears would make it inevitable that, once the time was right, all the Cities would join with the "great General" to bring order and wisdom to the rest of the world… whether they wanted it or not.

Whether Aegeia managed to actually conquer anything was beside the point, naturally; the important thing was that by making Aegeia turn outward at the time it should be completing the Great Play, by focusing everything on his new and quite blasphemous version of Ares, he would ensure the shattering of the Cycle entirely. The true Ares would be unable to be reborn with such damage done, Athena would never incarnate, and in all likelihood Aegeia itself would never recover from the damage.

But this had forced him to be traveling and mostly incommunicado to prevent any unexpected behavior on his part; he knew too well his own problems with self-control when under tension, and manipulating so many human beings was tension indeed.

Raiagamor assumed his true form, rather like a man stretching luxuriously after divesting himself of a tight suit, and touched his claws to key objects laid out on a table nearby. I have returned. What news?

There was no immediate answer. By itself, that was no terrible surprise; if his allies were engaged in conversation or combat they would wish to disengage, find a safe location in which to deliver reports, or at least to prepare to maintain a normal façade while carrying on two actions at once. At that, he reluctantly returned to his disguise. Even Deimos and Phobos did not know exactly what he was, and there was no reason to give them any more chance to deduce that.

But when the pause became a minute, and the minute became fifteen, and he found himself pacing, he knew it was something else. I grow impatient! Report immediately, or if you be in situations so perilous that you dare not leave, I require at least an acknowledgement!

For nearly a minute there was still no answer, and he felt his fists tightening, claws beginning to dig into his palms. Something is not right.

A shimmer above the table, and Deimos' face appeared, with Phobos standing somewhat behind. "Greetings, Lord."

"It's that bad, is it?" he asked from between gritted teeth halfway gone to fangs.

Deimos flinched, but tried to smile. "It is far from all bad, sir."

"Convince me, then, for the delays and your faces tell me a very different tale."

"Amoni Agapis has finally fallen, despite a far stronger and more in-depth resistance than we had expected," Deimos said quickly. "The city is entirely ours; no resistance remains."

He raised an eyebrow. That was pleasantly unexpected. Even if his allies had managed to beat down the city of Hephaestus and Aphrodite, resistance would be expected to continue for weeks, as it had in the other cities. "How was this achieved, then?"

A fractional pause. "Once they had demonstrated a greater resistance than expected, other tactics were considered. Our ally offered to assist. Athena gave it leave to do what it might to eliminate said resistance."

The crunch noise, Raiagamor discovered, was his fist closing on a part of the table and crushing it like splintering paper. "She did not give it specific instructions? Just in effect said to do what it would?"

Deimos' face was rigidly controlled. "Yes, sir."

"It was sent into Amoni Agapis with no restraints on its mission?"

"Yes, sir."

"By my Father's kills," he growled. "So, indeed, there is no remaining resistance. There's not a living thing left in the city, is there?"

In a whisper, "No, sir."

He let out a roar and whirled away from the table, knowing that otherwise he might destroy something of value, and instead tore the door from its hinges and reduced it to splinters and crumpled, torn metal fragments. Only when he had vented enough of the rage did he turn back to his frozen-faced allies. "So instead of a city of angry but beaten humans I can use in my plan, I have a graveyard. A graveyard, yet, that hasn't even bodies to bury, those having fed your little monster. This is your failing. Did you fail to instruct Athena in the nature of your ally?"

Phobos spoke. "Sir, we did summarize the nature of it to her, but I am afraid she did not sufficiently grasp," at his glare he hurriedly shifted his words,"… that we did not sufficiently emphasize to her its… absolute nature."

"Well. So rather than another fine base of operations for the plan, I have a ghost town. I suppose it's living there for now?"

"Yes, sir." Phobos and Deimos stood straight and silent again.

He turned away, took deep breaths, slowly reasserted full control. Finally, he sighed and looked back. "Very well, let it stay there. In fact, order it to stay there; I have no other targets for it yet, and no need to risk its… excessive enthusiasm yet. Now, let me have the rest. Have your targets arrived while you were distracted and passed your guard?"

"No, sir! Our guardians assure us the Seal remains unbreached here!"

"Then what has you standing as though I might sever your souls from your bodies at any moment?"

"We have… been unable to complete our action against the Camp-Bels," Deimos managed to say, after a moment.

He twitched, but said only, "Go on. Why not?"

"When Amoni Agapis fell –"

"Was consumed, I believe you mean."

"Sir. When that happened, there were a few who escaped. One in particular made her way to the hidden stronghold. Perhaps she already knew its location, or her own abilities revealed it to her, but she found it, and two of our agents escorted her in. Once she had entered, she suddenly killed the agents and ordered a systematic search for others."

"Ordered? Killed the agents? But who could…" He would have smacked his head with a boulder if one had been handy. "You wiped out all of the city… leaving one of the God-Warriors on the loose?"

"The Mirror of Aphrodite, sir."

"GRGGGH!" He could not speak for a few moments, just growl. At last he managed to get himself under control, at least for the moment. "So the one God-Warrior whose focus is on reflecting the truth in oneself – and thus ideal for seeing through disguises – is the one you let go?"

"We did not let her go, sir!" Phobos said, finally showing some spirit in his defense. "You know the power of the true God-Warriors. She evaded even our ally's attacks and saw through our traps, fought her way past Deimos directly."

"Not without help!" Deimos pointed out quickly. "Her entire honor guard was with her. None of them escaped."

Surprisingly, the rage began to die down on its own. Perhaps I am learning, becoming better. "So the Camp-Bels now have a God-Warrior in their midst, one who can see to one's heart?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hm. Did she succeed in finding and eliminating all of your agents?"

Finally a smile. "No, sir. You had treated four of them prior to your departure. We believe she has not detected anything amiss with them."

"Then we must go with one of the older plans. Continue to attempt infiltration, but far more cautiously; we cannot afford to be caught at this point, not with a God-Warrior and the remaining Camp-Bels already on the alert. And if our targets arrive, his parents must be killed, even if our assassin is to die in the same moment."

"As you command, sir."

Indeed, as I command. "What God-Warriors remain to me?"

Phobos raised an eyebrow, but answered, "Besides myself and Deimos, sir? The Sun of Apollo, the Anvil and Hammer of Hephaestus, and the Scythe of Demeter."

He nodded. That fit his recollections; the Harp of Apollo had fallen in the assault on Talaria, and most of the others had died fighting on the other side. Athena's Spear, Berenike, was of course the wild card – if that little group of heroes did make it through the Seal, it was possible she, too, would arrive.

"Excellent. Deimos, Phobos, I require you here. The secondary barrier will require both of you to assist us in its placement, and the Hammer and Anvil to assist in the crafting. Your Shadow-Queen Athena has done her part of the work; I can complete it with your help."

"And the Shadow-Queen?"

Raiagamor grinned. "She, along with the Sun and the Scythe, will go to await the coming of our expected guests from outside, who should arrive not far from your current location – though I admit, the exact location cannot be determined. But even if Berenike arrives with them, she will find herself at a great disadvantage against one who can successfully play a god, and two God-Warriors!"

The two bowed, and, with no further instructions forthcoming, disappeared from the image.

Raiagamor smiled. Yes, this was the right direction. He could feel it. Even if – against all odds – Ingram Camp-Bel's little party managed to defeat Athena and two God-Warriors, they would surely be badly weakened.

And then, in need of aid, they would arrive at the trap already baited for them… and have their hope torn from their grasp even as they reached to take it.

 

 

Chapter 22.

"Absolutely fascinating," Trayne Owen said finally, studying their group with new respect. The four girls with him – Holly, Seika, Tierra, and Cordy – stared at them with shining eyes.

"Oh my God," Seika finally said, "you're like epic fantasy heroes!"

"What?" Ingram asked. Urelle thought she almost grasped what the girls meant, but not quite.

"It is not that surprising," Trayne said. "True, their story is certainly epic, but the fact that it conforms to some of your society's expectations is not entirely coincidence – any more than your conformance to the mahou shoujo or magical girl genre conventions is an accident. Such epics happened in the distant past, after all."

Holly, the girl with straight black hair whose alternate form, "Princess Holy Aura", had been the one to first meet them, nodded. "I guess… yeah. Your own backstory, right?"

"And that of Lemuria and its predecessors and contemporaries, yes. And with magic now returning to this world in force, the same mystic and dramatic imperatives may return here as well." His gaze rested, with uncomfortable intensity, on Urelle. "But I am most interested in your descriptions of magic. I believe there may be much to learn from you – and much that I might teach you."

Urelle had covertly examined the five people, and the sight had nearly blinded her; the power wielded by the so-called "Apocalypse Maidens" was immense, and if brute power wasn't Trayne's forte, he was so ancient that sheer depth of knowledge more than compensated for that lack of essential force. The thought of being instructed by another being of ancient knowledge was fantastically tempting.

But… "Sir, I would like nothing more than to study with you, but as our story must show you, we have little time to spare."

"Alas, yes. And the fact that your world lies far from this one does not, in any way, mean that it is not our concern. As I believe we all believe your rather startling tale…?" he glanced at his young charges and allies, "… yes, as we believe you, it is now clearly part of our mission to ensure you can continue onward."

"You're okay to go on, Urelle?"

"Of course I am—"

"Do not of course us, Urelle Vantage!" Aunt Victoria's voice was affectionate yet somehow iron-hard. "You were pushing yourself beyond all bounds towards the end. We all recall the Wanderer's cautions about your power. How badly – and I require an honest answer – how badly are you strained?"

"If you will allow me," Trayne said, "I believe I can ascertain how injured she may actually be. Assessing one's own condition, especially in regards to spiritual injuries, is difficult."

Victoria glanced at Quester and Ingram, and then at Urelle. Urelle nodded. "I… already took a look at all of you, to make sure you were what you seemed to be."

Trayne laughed. "I sensed a bit of such magic from you, yes. And quite appropriate that you should have; as they say in this world, 'trust… but verify'. I have your permission, then?"

"You do," Victoria said.

Trayne instantly disappeared, replaced by the form of a white rat wearing a small golden crown. "I have far better access to my magic when not maintaining the human form," he explained, a trace of embarrassment in his voice.

"Wait, then you aren't actually human?" Ingram said in surprise.

"I… was human. Still am in my heart. This is the result of… well, we can discuss it later."

Urelle studied every gesture, memorized every word, as the little rodent bounced from point to point around her, muttering invocations in a language she had never heard before. Still, parts of his work were familiar. Trayne-Silvertail's movements created a five-pointed star about her, and while some of the symbols he inscribed were not identical to those she knew, she could make out clear connections to the Five Great Elements – called, rather inadequately but conveniently, Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. There were other magical traditions and conceptualizations of the powers, but that was one of the more common, most often used by people such as the Guardians of Nature.

As he completed his ritual, Urelle felt something sweep through her, a touch of crisp, cold air, a hint of coldmint, a subliminal sound of running water and crackling fire, a scent of earth in rain.

Trayne reappeared in human form. "You are not badly injured, but strained," he said. "There are signs – scars, one might say – of a prior serious injury, some months before, but it has healed well. I would not recommend you do anything of significance with your magic for at least a day or two, however, and if your tale of your travels is accurate, you would very much like to have your full strength available before you transition either to an unknown world, or your own – since your enemies may be waiting there."

"Then we shall wait here a day or two," Quester said firmly.

Urelle felt a twist of guilt. "I hate slowing us down. This is the third time we've had to delay because of me! I didn't think I was so, so, delicate!"

"You're not delicate at all!" Ingram said.

"No, you're not," Cordelia said, to her surprise. The tall girl, whose amazingly pale coloring and gold hair reminded her somewhat of the Wanderer, gestured at the others. "Your friends are basically fighting types, right?"

"Some kind of monk," Seika said, pointing to Victoria, "Straight-up fighter with two-weapon fighting," that being a nod to Quester, "and a higher-tech fighter-monk type. Yeah, they're the beatdown squad."

"Well… true enough, for the most part," Urelle agreed cautiously. "So…?"

"So, if they've overstrained themselves or gotten bad hurt, you can tell, right away. And more than that, that stuff can be healed pretty easy – both from your story, and from my own experience." She winked, and for an instant blue-green power flickered around her. "I'm the main healer in our little group, and it's not hard to put bodies back together as long as they're not dead. But if the spirit is hurt? You can't see if anything's wrong unless you can see the soul, and there's pretty much nothing except time and rest that'll heal it."

"And one of those three times," Ingram said, taking her hand, "was when you'd gone through that Ares-damned Crucible and been beaten down soul and body over a couple of days by yourself. So no, you're not delicate at all."

"It is decided, then," Victoria said. "We will stay here until our hosts are prepared to leave. You said this 'New York City ComicCon' lasts through tomorrow, correct?"

"Correct. This is a wise decision, Lady Victoria," said Trayne.

"What of these adversaries you mentioned? Will they be able to find us here?"

"It is my hope that they will not. These rooms are covered by concealment charms, and as long as we use only minimal magical power it should not be detectable from outside. If they detected your arrival, the search will be concentrated in that alleyway – but I very much doubt that they will be able to find much of interest, as the existence of ComicCon and the vast number of costumed individuals of all descriptions will render you rather less memorable than in almost any other circumstance. Quester would be the only possible exception, and he played a very convincing part. They may eventually analyze video footage and determine he is a target of interest, but I would think this will take them more than a day or two."

Urelle shook her head and smiled. "Well, then, if I'm going to be stuck here resting, Mr. Owen, could we get in a little comparative magical study?"

Trayne smiled brilliantly. "I would be honored, Miss Urelle Vantage!"

*****

"By the Balance," Urelle said, absently eating another of the tasty potato slices called "French fries" and tapping her notes, "the powers are at once so much the same, and so different!"

"Indeed." Trayne was re-reading some of his own notes. "Your mages – for the most part – draw from energies around them. You yourself appear to literally interface with the fabric of the universe to perform what you call 'shaping'. The power strains you, yes, but more because you are… hm, a support structure, a channel for energies that you can guide and control."

"While you have to literally burn up part of your own material substance to… what, catalyze, I guess, the connection, to allow you to get the universe to go along with your attempt to change things." Urelle let out a long breath. "That must be a strong limit on how powerful a wizard can be in your world. I mean, even if you could cheat it a bit – gain a lot of weight that you didn't really need – that'd be good only for a few big shots, and then you'd have to spend weeks or months stuffing yourself to try it again."

"Ha! Yes, although the power accessible can be exponentially increased both by the amount of mass sacrificed and the skill of the mage."

"Oh, of course, that word… 'sacrifice', as in willingly giving something up for the sake of your goal or magic, that covers the mass thing as well as things like giving up something less tangible but just as important." She flipped through some of her older notes. "On Zarathan, unwilling sacrifice is used by some of the nastier types."

"Oh, that is certainly part of the way our adversaries can operate," Trayne said. "Willing and conscious sacrifice, however, is much more powerful for those wielding the lighter magics. Is this not true on Zarathan?"

"I'm… not sure." She paged through more of her original notes, some on the more popular stories and myths. "Well, under the right circumstances, personal heroic sacrifice is certainly seen as a fine thing, but I don't see it as being something that directly drives magical power. You mean that literally, right?"

"He really does," Holly said, coming in and fiddling with one of her costume clasps that was being stubborn. "We were way more powerful than previous incarnations of the Maidens because we did some new and pretty important personal sacrifices along the way. Which was a good thing, since it let us end the Cycle by killing off Azathoth of the Nine Arms for real."

"So you people had a Cycle too," Ingram said in a pensive voice. "That's interesting."

"Parallels across worlds," Seika interjected, looking excited. "Maybe it's not coincidence! I mean, we've had theories that there's infinite universes out there, some just a tiny bit different than the one we're in…"

"Likely not coincidence… but the connections are likely to be hard to see. Seika, Holly, Cordelia, if you're bringing Ingram with you, you are responsible for him."

"Don't worry, Silvertail," Cordy said. "He's removed all the items Holly says were 'active' magic and you agreed the passive ones shouldn't be detectable."

"As have I," Victoria said. "I will keep an eye on all of them. It is a slight risk… but in all honesty, when will we have an opportunity to see such a world as this again?"

"I admit," Trayne said with a quick grin, "I would find it exceedingly difficult to resist the temptation myself. And who knows? Perhaps you will see or learn something of use. Just be cautious."

"Oh, I shall."

As they left, Urelle bent back over their notes. "I wonder… could either of us use the other's techniques?"

Trayne's eyebrows shot up. "You mean… use magic whose principles lie in another reality entirely? My initial reaction is that it's a ridiculous idea. Yet… there are many similarities between our magics, as well. The correspondence of the elements, the mechanics of spell design you have articulated, the nature of the interaction between spirit and magic, these are all very similar. Do you have reason to believe it could be done?"

Urelle reached into a pouch, touched a certain metallic book. "Maybe. The Wanderer that we mentioned in our story… he's said to come from a completely different world, one without magic at all. And he can do things that other mages simply can't do. I saw a vision… connected with him," she went on carefully, trying to avoid any truly dangerous knowledge, "that showed a city very much like this one. So maybe he even came from this world, before your victory over this 'Azathoth'?"

"I cannot say it is impossible; how he would have done so, however, is beyond me. Still… perhaps we could attempt it. You and I are well-trained beyond the basics of our knowledge; it would not be a waste of time to see if following the instructions of the other will yield any results."

Urelle smiled. "Then let's start!"

"One moment," he said, with a smile that acknowledged her eagerness with his own interest. "I must strengthen the wards first; as we do not know exactly what the results of our experimentation will be, it is best to assume that they may be obvious if not shielded against."

He made a circuit of the entire room, sketching symbols on the ceiling and floor, muttering phrases in a language Urelle did not know. Finally, however, he came back, and sat. "Now," he said, "we can begin."